Death-Consent On

 

Arianwen: Ranger 1/Paladin 3, 22 HP, 17 AC, FF 13, Touch 14

Rowena: Cleric 5, 32 hps, 20 AC, 14 touch, 16 ff

Eira: sorcerer 7, hps 41, 14 ac, 12 touch ac, ff ac 13

 

Encounter 1: Ettin Skeleton

CR: 5

APL: 4

 

Encounter 2: Goblin Wizard (Level 6)

CR: 6

APL: 4

 

 

Like many days on the front, the good weather is lost on the soldiers, who are still busy going about the day-to-day procedures of continuing a siege. However, there are sometimes problems which threaten to interfere with even such an organized fighting force as the Myrrish kingdoms. And sometimes, that’s where mercenaries or, 'irregulars' sometimes come in. A job is available. A heavy built human with a criss-crossing lattice of scars waits for the adventurers to arrive for their briefing in one of the war tents.

The sun alights on Arianwen, setting her hair ashimmer, ablaze. She glances up at it, feeling the warmth on her skin, before cutting off its influence entirely by pulling up the cowl of her dove gray cloak. By the time she's in the war tent, greeting the waiting human with a polite nod, it's as though the light never touched her at all.

"Ooooh! I hope I'm not late!" A small dwarf all but stomps her way in while tending to her skirts. The clothing's the same as the rest of her--plain, with dust and mud from work generously sprinkled upon it like an old maid would apply her makeup. "Didn't see the sign, and then it was all but covered...well. I don't know why they leave it in the middle of the sick tents, anyway..." Bustle.

The Stormgardian is the last to arrive, and somehow at the warfront Eira manages to stay mostly unruffled, not even a hair out of place. She ducks into the tent, summoned for a task. Her pet mink curled up on her shoulder, nose twitching at the scent of the soldiers inside. She takes a moment to glance at the bodies assembled before she speaks up, "My girl said that my aid was needed on a task...” And that explains how she manages to stay so clean; the sorceress has someone here to keep everything in order for her.

The man turns around when the three women arrive, and he raises a brow. Let's hope his name isn't Charlie. "There have been reports of undead attacking our flanks, fighting like Guerrillas, they rarely engage for long. We suspect a Bludguni necromancer to be the source. And we need you to go investigate and, if possible, eliminate the problem."

Arianwen bows her head in greeting to the other two adventurers, her expression difficult to read in the shadows of her hood, and takes a step forward to receive whatever maps or intel the man is planning to hand out to them. If any. "What flavour?" Bony, meaty or ghostly, she probably means.

Sniff. "Those Bludguni need better things to do, if they're off disturbing someone's old bones. I'm starting to think their mothers left them off the apron strings too early, the way they're behaving." Rowena straightens, and the scowl reaches her eyes in a grumpy, dwarven glitter about the whole thing. And falls silent to listen to Arianwen's question.

"Then the Garnaks are involved." Eira speaks as if she has firsthand knowledge of the source of Bludgunni necromancy. She reaches up to nudge the mink off her shoulder and into her hand, petting his fur as if it’s a placebo to keep her from getting agitated at the subject. "Expect the worse if haven't already dealt with the Garnaks, they like to create the most horrific manner of undead, and they themselves are hobgoblin vampires."

"The Garnaks need put back on their apron-strings, too," Rowena says, the tone as though she'd do it herself, and maybe, just maybe, she would, this crazy little dwarf. "I don't know if you've run into them," she looks briefly to Ari, then the not-Charlie, and back again. "But they're a mean bunch. I think they're Kinnevack's new pets..." sniff. "Woman must be all sorts of lonely to go after something like them."

The man nods his head, "It might be Garnaks. That's up for you to find out. We need to keep the lines in fighting condition, so that we can take and hold Gettys when the preparations are in place." He explains. "So far, there have been reports of zombies and skeletons."

Arianwen pages: Before we leave, Aria goes out and buys a pair of normal light maces, and a pair of normal handaxes. I'll buy 'em off the grid later; the total comes to less than 30g. X)

"That seems almost like a mundane distraction for them, but we will go check it out. How long till you need us prepared to depart?" Eira asks, her jaw tensing some at the types of undead they are expected, "I've had a couple of run-ins with Eshranti in particular, he is a most unholy and disturbing creature. You should be on guard if it is him or one of his brothers involved in this." Her fingers continue to stroke at her pet.

Arianwen's eyes crinkle in a very small smile of thanks, to the man answering her question, though her lips remain in a serious line. She listens intently to the wisdom that Rowena and Eira have to share. "I will meet you at the path," she says to them, departing the tent unless the man has something else to say.

"I've not heard of him, but I appreciate the warning, just the same." Rowena nods to Eira, quickly, before turning back to not-Charlie. And listens. And, too, nods, when he continues to speak. She seems restless, by the small movements of foot, the gesture of hands, the way they twist and clench in her skirts. "Well. Well, let's be off, then. I'll see you along the--the path, then," a glance at Arianwen. Another straightening of skirts.

"As soon as possible." The man responds to Eira's question. "Every moment that these vile creatures and their master continue to exist, detracts from the glory of what was once our proud land." She explains.

"Then we will be off." Eira moves her pet into a pocket, checking its contents along the way. "I should have what I need already."

The group finally meet up near the roughly scored path just behind the main line, ready to set out towards their destination and the ass-kicking that will no doubt shortly ensue.

"Have we any plans?" asks Arianwen along the way, arriving with a bandolier of sheaths strapped across her back that wasn't there in the tent. Habitually, for the road ahead, she draws her favourite lovingly crafted wooden instrument of death from afar, and keeps it lightly clasped in one hand, along with an arrow.

Rowena brushes her hands against each other. Dust trails along in a small path behind the barefooted woman and her rough clothing. "They're going to be hiding around here, someplace," with the certainty of someone who Just Knows mischief is just around the corner. In this case, the culprit is errant Bludguni, and the healer's found a spot on the trail to stand, and scowl over the road ahead. "Plans? Kicking them in the head, I suppose." And, where the elf's patient, elegant, Rowena...isn't. The words are blunt, and the dust-covered hands make dust-covered imprints on her skirt-hips, where they're now residing.

"Plans, track down the undead and dispatch them, I believe that is all we need to do." Eira is still sans any sort of weaponry, it’s odd that she'd be selected for any task such as this, but then again it seems she knows something about undead. She reaches into her pocket, "Tuuli can help sniff them out." Speaking of the wriggly white mink she's now holding.

"Very well," Arianwen murmurs gravely. "I shall scout." She moves a ways off the beaten path, rapidly disappearing into high grasses or low undergrowth, whatever's available, with the ease of a lifetime in the wilderness. Her vivid eyes look for interesting things, like movement and tracks. Her nose twitches, poised to inhale the stink of death.

GAME: Arianwen rolls Hide: (2)+8: 10

GAME: Rowena rolls spot: (16)+5: 21

GAME: Arianwen rolls Move Silently: (19)+8: 27

GAME: Arianwen rolls Spot: (16)+9: 25

GAME: Eira rolls spot+2: (2)+1+2: 5

<OOC> Eira says, "Can I also roll for the familiar?"

And so--off they go. Or, off she goes. Rowena stomp-steps after the elf's quicker movement. Her legs move like two, short statuettes, bludgeoning themselves into the dirt. The flap-flap of bare feet slap-slap over the earth in skin-and-dust tones, and a small trail of dust goes behind. Her skin, as she walks, takes on a rock-like quality. Planning? Why? And what is it? The undead need their heads bashed in. It'll take experience to teach the Vardaman that this doesn't need done just immediately.

GAME: Eira rolls 1d20+3: (11)+3: 14

GAME: You secretly roll 1d20: 4

GAME: You secretly roll 1d20: 8

The whole party soon sees it- skeletal remains, some seven feet tall, with a pair of vaguely porcine skulls. The thing is dragging along a rather huge mace which tears up the grass as it drags along the floor. It seems to be trudging rather single-mindedly towards the camp.

Although Eira doesn't see it right off, the little white pet of hers does. It chitters once at her to get her attention, the rest of the communication seems to be nonverbal. She raises a brow and looks to the others, bringing her voice to a whisper, "It seems we have found something.."

"...well, wouldn't you know it..." Rowena stops where she is. The dust-cloud of stomp-stomp-stomp sounds, too, and the priestess looks fit to walk up there, herself. She dusts off her arms, then, and looks...piqued. Piqued, and a little intimidated, by the widening of her eyes and the paling of skin. And promptly covers it by more dusting.

Arianwen's nostrils flare, and of all things, she actually unstrings the longbow, storing it and the arrow back into their quiver. Carefully she rejoins the rest of the party. The look in her eyes is one of readiness.

It’s almost as if instinct kicks in, Eira whispers turn to an ancient tongue. Clearly she's not talking to anyone in the group, a faint green glow shimmers around her for a moment. Some sort of protection no doubt.

<OOC> Arianwen says, "And Aria's up to 19/FF 15/Touch 16."

Dust. Dust-dust...dust. From somewhere in the small puff-clouds, Rowena produces a scroll that's been are fully wrapped, and spiralled into a tight cylinder. She sniffs and begins unrolling it. "See if this helps a little," she says, to Arianwen. And, once unrolled, the scroll is quickly read in whispers...and tumbles into gray, cold ash at their feet.

GAME: Rowena used a Scroll of Shield of Faith.

And the thing just keeps walking. Not too bright in life, even less bright without its brain.. Or other organs.

Rowena rolls initiative: Roll: 3 + Bonus: 3 = Total: 6

Eira rolls initiative: Roll: 17 + Bonus: 1 = Total: 18

Arianwen rolls initiative: Roll: 11 + Bonus: 4 = Total: 15

You roll initiative for Skeletor!: Roll: 11 + Bonus: 4 = Total: 15

GAME: Eira casts magic missile.

GAME: Eira rolls 4d4+4: (9)+4: 13

===== Current Initiative Order =========

----------------------------------------                     

 18                  Eira

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 15                  Arianwen

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 15                  Skeletor!

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 6                   Rowena

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========================================

GAME: Arianwen rolls 1d20+10: (10)+10: 20

The spell of protection in place, Eira doesn't waste time on luring the creature’s attention. She begins to incant in an archaic tongue. Energy coming together in her hand. It strikes out with precision. Striking the ribs of the of bony creature and cracking them. It seems this is how the sorceress says hello to the undead.

GAME: Arianwen rolls 1d6+1: (2)+1: 3

GAME: Rowena rolls 1d20+8: (12)+8: 20

Arianwen doesn't waste war cries on the dead. Swiftly and silently, low to the ground, she closes the distance between herself and the great construct of bone. She runs up its huge mace to bash it in the side with one of her own tiny ones, sending a bone chip flying, then lands neatly on her feet in a readied stance.

GAME: Rowena rolls 1d8+1: (3)+1: 4

GAME: Rowena casts spiritual weapon.

GAME: Arianwen rolls 1d20+6: (9)+6: 15

GAME: Arianwen rolls 1d20+6: (1)+6: 7

GAME: Arianwen rolls 1d6+1: (4)+1: 5

Vardama's Lamentation fades into the space behind the bone-creature--a heady, oversized mace, it moves silently towards its head, and connects--chipping away at the bone, pieces of the creature and laying them out along the ground. The dwarven woman brushes her forearm over her brow and steps towards the brush.

Eira doesn't relent, the whispers of the esoteric poems that flow off her tongue brighten the energy again. Until it smashes into him, knocking off a chunk of bone. She remains in her place, not getting any closer to the undead.

Before the deathly creature can even react, Arianwen is at him again. She nearly trips over his huge, skeletal feet, but turns the fall into a graceful swirl of green and gray, her second mace connecting with a lower rib, which cracks.

GAME: Usha rolls 1d20+10: (4)+10: 14

The great monstrous skeleton grips the club in both hands, and then gives a mighty swing, missing the nimble Arianwen, and sending a spray of dirt out of the ground where he hit. The vibration from the impact travels, and even Rowena and Eira are likely to feel it in the soles of their feet.

GAME: Rowena rolls 1d20+8: (18)+8: 26

GAME: Rowena rolls 1d8+1: (5)+1: 6

"Ooooh...go away, already," Rowena gestures and the mace swings down again, and impacts bone. More shatters, as the priestess jogs forward. She doesn't appear--well, yes she does. The cheeks are white, but the eyes are angry.

GAME: Eira casts magic missile.

GAME: Eira rolls 4d4+4: (10)+4: 14

Eira begins to move to follow the others, the energy building in her hands as she repeats the strange phrase that seems to aid in harnessing the energy. It lashes out and strikes the creature, dead centre. Its bones cracking and crumbling from the force. Eliminating the problem for them.

GAME: Arianwen rolls Spot: (16)+9: 25

GAME: Arianwen rolls Listen: (17)+7: 24

GAME: Eira rolls spot+2: (19)+1+2: 22

GAME: You secretly roll 1d20+4+3+3:14

GAME: You secretly roll 1d20+3+3:15

GAME: Rowena rolls spot: (15)+5: 20

GAME: Rowena rolls listen: (9)+5: 14

GAME: Eira rolls listen+2: (8)+2+2: 12

<OOC> Usha says, "Man, my monsters suck at rolling these days. You all spot a goblin hiding behind a bush not too far away, looking somewhat upset that his toy just got smashed to pieces. he is quite obviously aware of you."

Arianwen rolls initiative: Roll: 2 + Bonus: 4 = Total: 6

Eira rolls initiative: Roll: 4 + Bonus: 1 = Total: 5

You roll initiative for Necromancer: Roll: 7 + Bonus: 3 = Total: 10

Rowena rolls initiative: Roll: 13 + Bonus: 3 = Total: 16

GAME: Rowena rolls 1d20+8: (16)+8: 24

GAME: Rowena rolls 1d8+1: (7)+1: 8

<OOC> Usha says, "He casts Ray of Exhaustion on Arianwen."

<OOC> Arianwen says, "Cool, I'm at Touch 16. :)"

GAME: Usha rolls 1d20+4: (19)+4: 23

GAME: Arianwen rolls Fortitude: (4)+9: 13

Rowena grasps cloth--and heads for the hills. The grasses, rather. The young dwarven woman plops right down in the middle of a set of them as the ghastly mace swings down, battering the goblin about the shoulders and head. It connects solidly, and she chews her lower lip.

The goblin in dark robes decides to take his revenge on the people who smashed up his toy, starting with the closest target, Arianwen. He mutters a dark incantation, and then points his finger at her, a ray of negative energy striking her square in the chest, and causing her to feel like she's spent the last six hours marching on an empty stomach.

GAME: Arianwen rolls 1d20+7: (14)+7: 21

===== Current Initiative Order =========

----------------------------------------                        

 16                  Rowena

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 10                  Necromancer

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 6                   Arianwen

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 5                   Eira

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========================================

GAME: Arianwen rolls 1d8-2: (6)+-2: 4

GAME: Eira rolls 1d4+2: (1)+2: 3

Arianwen sways on her feet, her maces dropping from briefly nerveless fingers, as pins and needles of the pain of a long day's labour run up her spine and through her muscles. Trembling like a leaf, she draws her bow, barely managing to string it, yet nonetheless displays the talent of all of her kind, smoothly sending a green-feathered shaft into the goblin's leg. "You're not going anywhere," she says weakly.

Eira glares at the necromancer. She moves forward, whispering as she moves up to where the undead is now in pieces. Suddenly, there are three more Eira's on the scene. Truly a frightening concept.

GAME: Rowena used a Scroll of silence.

<OOC> Usha says, "Roll your SW's attack"

GAME: Rowena rolls 1d20+8: (1)+8: 9

<OOC> Usha says, "The goblin moves back 20', out of the AoE, and then casts Deafness on Eira."

GAME: Usha rolls 1d4: (3): 3

<OOC> Usha says, "Yeah, he hit one of your mirror images. So you're not deaf after all."

GAME: Arianwen rolls 1d20+5: (11)+5: 16

The goblin rather quickly notices the sudden lack of sound- after all, there's plenty of noise to be heard out here, and sudden silence is as loud as a drum roll. he moves back until his ears feel like they pop, the way he can hear again, and then with more evil incantations, he causes silence to descend upon Eira in turn, as if her ears were plugged.

GAME: Arianwen rolls 1d8-2: (1)+-2: -1

<OOC> Arianwen says, "1, minimum."

Arianwen is not to be denied; narrowing her eyes at the change in battlefield noise, she staggers along behind Rowena, and sends a second arrow into his other leg, drawing a little more blood.

GAME: Eira rolls 1d20+4: (6)+4: 10

GAME: Eira rolls 1d20+4: (14)+4: 18

GAME: Eira rolls 4d6: (14): 14

The lack of hearing doesn't seem to affect Eira. She talks a little loudly, "I suggest you give up.." And with that she begins to incant. Bringing her hands together until a ball of fire builds between her palms, a pair of rays strike out, one going wide and scorching a tree. The other strikes and drops the goblin.

As he goes down, the goblin collapses in a heap. He whimpers at the smouldering hole in his chest, and then backs up a bit. he coughs, "Ah... ah." He mutters, Prisoner. You take. yes? No kill?" he practically begs, even while he drags himself away from the rather (rightfully so) angry people.

Eira rubs her ear, annoyed. She glares at the spineless, smouldering goblin. She shouts again, "Which of you has rope.." Seems she can tell from his snivelling that he's given up. "We are going to take him back for proper punishment."

Arianwen glances over at the scorched tree, but doesn't comment. She's busy yawning enormously, her spine cracking in three places, and stumbles back over to where she dropped her light maces, putting the little weapons back into their leather sheaths. "In exchange for our mercy, please tell us what you know of any further Bludgun necromancy along our lines." Being tired doesn't make her any less intimidating than usual; it adds a grating edge of impatience to her tone.

"Yes! Tell! I know lots. I tell lots. Big zombies, with wings. But big boss wizard only give Gorlog wolves and ettin. No wings." The goblin readily admits. "Just no kill! Big boss wizard say, if die, turn to monster. No want to be monster." The goblin says then. Still shuffling away a little. Till he finds his back against a rock.

Rowena pulls out a small coin, and--pinches it between her fingers. She shakes her head to the sorceress, but kneels down by the goblin, instead, and unless someone, or something, prevents it, pushes him against the rock with one hand, while searching for, and grabbing, his spell book, with the other. This, if grabbed, is held in a grubby dwarven fist and shaken at him, like a parent having evidence of a child's wrongdoing.

It seems it was just the silence effecting Eira, she stops rubbing her ears. "Let's get him and take him back..." She glares at the goblin, obviously not believing his act.

And so, the group drag their new goblin friend back to camp, where he is promptly handed over for interrogation. The group are thanked for their hard work, and paid for their efforts.