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Thread: WotR Chapter 1: The Worldwound Incursion

  1. #11
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    Default Fhaora Songsteel

    Seeing that the wounded were being tended to, Fhaora addressed everyone.

    "Greetings citizens. My name is Fhaora Songsteel. Iomedae be praised that we survived what just happened. It seems that the forces of darkness have broken free once again. Fear not, we have fought them back before and we will do it again. If anyone needs assistance, please just ask."

    OOC
    Diplomacy d20(13) + 8 = 21

  2. #12
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    Approaching respectfully, Celtar spoke to the man. "Hello Sir. Is there any assistance I can provide you?" he asked while trying to assess the man before him.

    Aravashnial tilted his head, trying to discern where the friendly young man’s voice was coming from, then tapped his staff on the ground making certain that the way was clear, then stepped forward. “Thank you, young man,” the elf said slowly, turning his head once more as he seemed to zone in on where Celtar stood. Although he may not have had use of his eyes, his elven hearing was as sharp as ever. As he studied the elf, Celtar took note of the familiar scents associated with his own craft, and recognized a similar pouch at the elven man’s belt. Aravashnial practiced the art of the arcane.

    “I am Aravashnial, friend. Your voice…it sounds…familiar to me,” said the elf, stepping cautiously closer, “Have we met?”

    "Greetings citizens. My name is Fhaora Songsteel. Iomedae be praised that we survived what just happened. It seems that the forces of darkness have broken free once again. Fear not, we have fought them back before and we will do it again. If anyone needs assistance, please just ask."

    Using her bow once again as a crutch, Anevia spoke up first, as Aravashnial and Celtar exchanged words. “If you can do something about my leg, that would be great!,” she stated hopefully, but doubtful. She looked toward Fhaora, then at the young brazen man next to her. “I’m Anevia, by the way,” she added over her shoulder.

    Horgus listened, his complaining ceased, as the others conversed. His patience seemed to wear thin at last, and he burst into the conversation. “Well, I don’t know about the rest of them,” he said, waving his hand at the other two townsfolk, “But I’m willing to reimburse you should you deliver me safely back to Gwerm Manor.” Scratching his chin, he seemed to add numbers in his head, then continued, “Say a sum of a thousand gold coins?” He looked at his potential saviors for their reaction to his proposal as any good negotiator would.

    Cocking his head toward the master Gwerm, Aravashinal smiled. “Leave it to the wealthy to try and buy their way to safety,” he whispered to Celtar. Had he not been blind, Celtar was certain the elf would have winked at him.

    “I heard that!” Horgus grumped, but left the elf to his blindness, seemingly satisfied at the elven man’s plight.

    “That was the point, Horgus Gwerm,” Aravashnial said, then changed his tone, “My apologies, Master Gwerm, as I meant it only in jest.”

    “Whatever we do, we should do something. And fast!” Anevia said, hoping to change the subject and keep the elf and the aristocrat from further debasing of each other. “You never know when a foul demon will rear its damnable head, especially after what happened to poor Terendelev! It’s just awful! She was the defender of Kenabres. What are we supposed to do now?” Her tone was solumn, and she bowed her head, the magnitude of what had happened to the dragon weighing heavily on her.

    “Hey, what’s that?” Anevia said, pointing to several silver flashes amongst the debris from the cave in. Hobbling over, she reached down and plucked out a dragon scale. It was silver. There were more mixed in with the rubble. Florence, his interest piqued, aided her in gathering the scales.

    As he touched one in particular, he seemed to hear a voice from deep within himself. The voice told him of the properties of the scale, and how he could use it to levitate. Excited, he picked up another, expecting the voice to speak to him again, but he heard nothing. Handing the first scale over to Anevia, he again heard the voice speak to him. This scale would allow him to disguise himself even better than he normally was able, being able to convince the unwitting of his guise. He continued to pick up one scale at a time, never having more than one in hand at a time, and he determined that another scale could cast the spell resist elements on him, while others would cast align weapon, but only to make them lawful or good, and even on his hand if he so chose.*

    OOC
    Celtar: Knowledge Arcana, success – determines that Aravashnial is some type of wizard. Diplomacy, success! Aravashnial is now FRIENDLY! Also, Celtar has never met him before. Hmm….interesting!
    Fhaora: Diplomacy, Success! – Aravashnial is now HELPFUL, Anevia is now FRIENDLY, and Horgus is INDIFFERENT. NICE!

    *Your final boon from the DM and Terendelev herself! You find magical dragon scales that hold the following properties:
    Cloudwalking:Three times per day as a standard action,
    a scale can be used to cast levitate. A pillar of roiling clouds
    rises below the levitating object or creature, growing and
    shrinking with the target's altitude. This pillar is 5 feet in
    diameter (regardless of the target's size) and provides
    concealment (20 0/o miss chance) to any creature or object
    wholly contained within.
    Disguise:Three times per day as a standard action, a scale
    can be used to cast alter self. While disguised, the target gains
    a +4 bonus on all Bluff checks made against evil creatures.
    Resistance:Three times per day as a standard action, a scale
    can be used to cast resist elements-but only against electricity
    or cold.
    Sacred Weaponry:Three times per day as a standard action,
    a scale can be used to cast align weapon, but only to make a
    weapon lawful or good. Unlike a normal align weapon spell,
    this effect can be cast on an unarmed strike or natural weapon.
    You may choose which type of scale that your character would like, but they will only be effective if only ONE scale is possessed. Your character hears the voice which explains its properties, and yes, it is Terendelev’s spirit in her last effort to aid the Heroes!
    These scales function as Caster Level 19th. I know, I was shocked too!
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    Last edited by Dorgyn Angylaxe; 03-13-2015 at 11:03 PM.
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  3. #13
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    Default Fhaora Songsteel

    Fhaora glared at the opulent and corpulent Horgus with obvious derision.

    She quipped, "If we do get you back to your home, one would hope that you would use your wealth to assist those in need."

    She turned a quick, cold shoulder and addressed the poor woman with the broken leg, "Maybe we can contruct you a splint of sorts."

    She began to rummage through the flotsam, looking for something to help with that endeavor. She came across one of the dragon scales.

    She tossed it to Anevis and declared, "That should help you float along and avoid limping."

    She picked up a scale and tucked it into her pouch.

    OOC
    Look for splint making supplies... No ranks in heal
    Toss Anevia a levitation scale
    Take a sacred weapon scale for myself
    Last edited by Drakestendor; 03-13-2015 at 11:31 PM.

  4. #14
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    Quote Originally Posted by Aravashnial
    “I am Aravashnial, friend. Your voice…it sounds…familiar to me
    "No, Master Aravashnial, I do not believe I've had the honor," Celtar replied. "My name is Celtar Wardenson, and I would be honored to assist you out of this place."

    Celtar turned in shock at the vast some of money the Gwerm had offered and then turned back as the blind man made his joke. He tried to contain a giggle but it was hard; a little levity to brighten a grim time.

    Turning to face Anevia, "Mistress Anevia, I should be able to set your leg and I have some mystical healing I could offer, but that will only work if you are good of heart. I warn you, only so that you are aware of the risk," Celtar paused to allow the words to sink in. "If you are not, the power may simply not work or worse, cause more injury. It is the limiting nature of this particular power, not a choice of mine," Celtar explained.

    "Would you like me to attempt to set the leg? And try the mystical healing? Or just the setting of the leg?


    OOC

    Some rolls to save time in case Anevia excepts the help. If not, the ignore the rolls.



    Heal Check to set the leg/provide first aid/treat deadly wounds (14)+5 +2 (healer's kit)=21

    Ranged Touch to use Heavenly Fire (20) (seems like a waste thanks dice roller) +2=22
    3 Hp healed to a good creature, damaged to an evil creature.
    Krieger Kegsplitter, male Neidar Cleric 9 of Reorx (luck, strength(resolve)) - Hourglass in the Sky
    Celtar Wardenson, male human sorcerer (celestial bloodline) 4 -Wrath of the Righteous

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    Evelyn sheathed her sword when it appeared the the spider was already dead. She looked to Fhaora who announced herself first, then to Aravashnial, Anevia, Horgus and Celtar. She gave a heart warming smile to all. "It appears fate has brought us all together. I am Evelyn Morninglory, priestess of Sarenrae. We will all make it back together or none of us will." She said in a stern tone of truth.

    "It seems we are all in good hands, Celtar allow me to assist you if Anevia will allow us to help." She stepped over towards Celtar and the man who first went to Anevia's aid. "We need to be careful and stick together if we're to make out of here. Let's tend to wounded then see if there are ways out. Master Horgus, will lead Master Aravashnial over to us please?"

    OOC: Diplomacy check: 1d20(15)+7= 22

    Heal check to aid Celtar: 1d20(6)+6= 12, success... Celtar gets a +2 to his aid check.
    Last edited by Spasseltock Nimblefingers; 03-14-2015 at 02:17 PM.
    Spasseltock Nimblefingers kender CN (with good tendencies) Rogue/13, Handler/ 8
    Shayle Wist'lya Bothan Noble 3/Scoundrel 1/Scout 3/Infiltrator 2 Star Wars: Dawn of Defiance
    Evelyn Morningory Aasimar Warpriest of Sarenrae 2 Wrath of the Righteous
    Virgil Halard Human Ranger 4/Fighter 2/Rogue 2/Knight of the Lily 1 Hourglass in the Sky

  6. #16
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    The arrow had whizzed by Florence's ear too close for comfort, and he flinched and jigged in alarm. The broken-legged damsel behind him appeared not to appreciate his chivalry. But at least she had revealed the giant spider was already dead, already dead. She appeared wily, independent, smart. He turned back to look at her. THAT close? his eyes said, his hand still protectively over his ear.

    Approaching respectfully, Celtar spoke to the elf. "Hello Sir. Is there any assistance I can provide you?" he asked while trying to assess the man before him...

    Florence turned to see the arcanists gather. They would undoubtably conspire, for good or for worse. He'd seen Celtar around Kelabras before, circling in wizardly circles. Then a voice rang out, echoing through the caverns.

    "Greetings citizens. My name is Fhaora Songsteel. Iomedae be praised that we survived what just happened. It seems that the forces of darkness have broken free once again. Fear not, we have fought them back before and we will do it again. If anyone needs assistance, please just ask."

    Just another idealistic crusader likely to die in the Worldwound, Florence thought initially. He'd seen more than his share.

    But her message hit home. The silver dragon protector of Kenabres was dead. War might even be raging above in the city this very moment, the battle between demon and dragon being only the first wave, a potential second wave hoards of Abyssal terror swarming the city. Florence shrugged mirthlessly at Songsteel's implication that Iomedae be praised in thanks for their survival. Florence placed little stock in the gods, despite his own childhood experience. That was different. It was natural selection and sheer luck that any of them lived, he realized as he surveyed the dead body parts protruding everywhere from the rubble. Survival of the fittest, and dumb luck. Yet Songsteel had rallied the shaken group with bold and protective words. He was grateful for that. Who knew what was to come. It would take their combined efforts to find their way out of this hole alive. Florence glanced up into the shadows of the ceiling of the cavern. Might it collapse at any moment, especially if a battle raged in Kenabres above, killing them all and Songsteel's hopes with it?

    Florence had yet to speak, now listening and studying the dynamic of the blind elf and the wealthy Horgus Gwerm, the word gold capturing his attention. Keep your friends close, and the wealthy closer. Florence would make sure to gain Gwerm's good favor, but before he spoke, the broken-legged woman behind him did. He appreciated her efforts to distract the elf - an oft snooty race - and Master Gwerm, dispelling their unnecessary rabble. Meanwhile Florence scoured the ceiling again, this time with his eyes in search of more spiders. Spiders could creep and climb and yo-yo up and down thin strands of their strong webs, slinking silently down from above to drop upon unsuspecting prey.

    “Hey, what’s that?”

    Silver dragon scales. A voice deep inside Florence seemed to impart secret powers as he touched each of them as he and the broken-legged woman picked them from the rubble. He was fascinated. Florence said nothing, nor did the broken-legged woman. Yet somehow Songsteel knew the powers of the scales, and was the first to stake her claim of one. He then wondered if perhaps this miracle of survival and the dragon scales was truly Iomedae's work. Songsteel seemed a paladin, in attire, demeanor and claim. Then Florence's brow darkened. Songsteel's actions spoke otherwise. True paladins could heal it was said, yet Songsteel could do nothing for the woman's leg, merely tossing her a dragon scale instead. Florence leaned suspicious of Songsteel and her claims. More likely, she was no paladin, but a petty thief or cultist or demon in disguise. He would watch her actions closely. She had taken for herself the most sacred of the scales, and stowed it away where one would have to get by her sword to take it. If Florence was a demon planning to entrap them all to their doom, that's exactly what he would do.

    "Mistress Anevia, I should be able to set your leg and I have some mystical healing I could offer..."

    It was Celtar who came and knew what to do for...Anevia - that was her name. The arcanist seemed genuinely kind and helpful, and carried a kit of gauze and splints to aid the damsel's leg.

    "Mistress Anevia, it is," Florence said with a bow and wink, attempting to distract her from the pain of Celtar's configuring of her leg. "I am sure good Celtar here will do his utmost to help you with your injury," he reassured. "You're pain will surely lessen and your ability to walk improve quickly." Florence didn't know if what he was saying was true for certain, but it seemed like the right thing to say. Hope and morale were powerful allies. "I am Florence Nightingale, at your service. And thanks to you, Celtar," Florence added. "I have heard of your kindness."

    Angel Eyes.

    Florence was dreamily enraptured at the approach of Evelyn Morninglory. This woman - no, she was no ordinary woman. Angel-touched she was, and was known to Florence, though she did not likely know him. Her presence was reassuring. Once she began assisting Celtar, Florence took a step back at the power of Evelyn's presence, entranced by her eyes, though he tried not to show it. Gods at work or no, she was here. He remained silent, partly out of awe.

    Without keeping a dragon scale for himself, even the one that resonated strongly with him, Florence's fearless curiosity took him. Why was the spider dead? The question gnawed at him. It had not been crushed by rubble. From this distance, it did not appear it had been torn apart by some demon or dragon. Anevia's well-placed arrow might have slain it, but again, it had already been dead. It was unlikely the spider had died of old age. That would be too strange of a coincidence. Today was already strange enough.

    Florence looked over at the one woman who had not yet spoke. He knew not who she was, but she wore leafed armor and her bow was zeroed on the spider, her eyes keenly studying it still. Florence gave a small whistle in her direction as he came a bit closer to her, enough to let her know by his body language that he intended to inspect the spider.

    "I am Florence Nightingale, lovely mistress," he said to her. "You are wise to keep your attention on the spider. There may be something suspicious about its death, or it could be nothing. I will inspect it closer. Cover me with your bow, if you will, milady," he requested respectfully and charmingly. He kept his voice low in the echoey cavern.

    Florence slipped a long thin rapier from its sheathe, and dared to carefully approach the large dead thing. He spied around and searched, using the tip of his rapier to sift about spindly-haired legs and bulbous protrusions of black disgust.

    OOC
    Perception check on ceiling for clues of its stability and to spot for any more spiders. d20+5= 21.
    Diplomacy with Anevia d20+2= 15.
    Florence makes a roll to try and determine the cause of the spider's death (wounds, burns, etc.) and look for any other clues or items around it...
    Perception (search) check d20+5= nat 20 for 25!
    Last edited by Bong Bellowsmoke; 03-14-2015 at 02:49 PM.
    The Red Condor shrieked at Sir Darvig in full wrath. Wings flapped storms of fire across the sky. "The Mage-God grows in power swifter than it appears to Paladine. This I know. A warning," Sargonnas told Darvigl, "for you to give to Paladine in your prayers."

    “I will,” Darvig uttered.

  7. #17

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    Hael lessened the stress on her bowstring, lowering her bow as she studied the creature. It is dead, she would realize, after puzzling over its withdrawn limbs.

    She held her bow at her side, listening to the promises of gold and escape around her, though they held no merit in her mind. She felt little need for gold and trade as she was raised to live off of the land. Her time in the city was a strange and uncomfortable one. At every turn she needed to trade or pay for food or lodging. It had led her to a short hunting trip away from the city a few days prior to this whole mess.

    "The spider is dead." She spoke loudly, her words holding a thick elven accent. "We need to attend to the wounded and the dead." Her words were directed to those who stood at the ready, as though the arachnid would spring from the grave and devour those in the cavern.

    Her interest was drawn to the shimmering scales that the others were looking over. Moving to them to see the scales herself, she would pick one up, hearing the familiar voice of nature explain to her that the scale would grant her the ability to move as a storm would across the sky. She looked over the scale for a moment, wiping away a streak of blood and watching it shimmer from the light of her leaf.

    "She did not spend her life so that we may fret over a lifeless husk and the weight of our coin purses." Something as large as that creature was surely killed by something, but had the ground above it not collapsed? Surely it was possible that creatures below the rubble could be harmed. The elf glanced toward those who were speaking of gold. "I will not dishonor her sacrifice over petty material reward. I will help you return to the surface as our lives were traded for hers." The woman spoke calmly, despite the pang of remorse she felt for the dragon's demise.

    OOC
    Moves to Anevia, picks up a scale that grants Cloudwalk
    Last edited by Twitch Thistlefoot; 03-15-2015 at 03:53 PM.

  8. #18
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    Fhaora searched the area for pieces of wood and scraps of cloth to craft a splint, but was unable to find anything worthwhile. Tossing Anevia a dragon scale, the injured woman caught it in her hand. Turning it over, admiring the sheen of the Silver Dragon’s scale, she quickly handed it back.

    “It doesn’t seem right for me to have this,” she said softly, “I think it was meant for you,” she concluded handing the scale back to Fhaora.

    "No, Master Aravashnial, I do not believe I've had the honor," Celtar replied. "My name is Celtar Wardenson, and I would be honored to assist you out of this place."

    “Wanderson?” Aravashnial said, cocking his head as he seemed to ponder the name. “The name sounds familiar. It is possible that I’ve had dealings with your father. I have done business with so many people in my travels, selling magical components, scrolls, and other arcane interests. What is your father’s profession, if I may ask?” he inquired, genuine interest in his voice.

    "Would you like me to attempt to set the leg? And try the mystical healing? Or just the setting of the leg?

    "It seems we are all in good hands, Celtar allow me to assist you if Anevia will allow us to help." She stepped over towards Celtar and the man who first went to Anevia's aid.

    "Mistress Anevia, it is," Florence said with a bow and wink, attempting to distract her from the pain of Celtar's configuring of her leg. "I am sure good Celtar here will do his utmost to help you with your injury," he reassured. "You're pain will surely lessen and your ability to walk improve quickly." Florence didn't know if what he was saying was true for certain, but it seemed like the right thing to say. Hope and morale were powerful allies. "I am Florence Nightingale, at your service. And thanks to you, Celtar," Florence added. "I have heard of your kindness."

    “If you have the skill, I’ll gladly accept your help, lady and sir!” Anevia said. Her demeanor toward the others of the group was warming. Although Fhaora wasn’t able to do much for Anevia’s leg, she inspired Celtar and Evelyn, who were able to set the leg with the aid of the sorcerer’s kit of healing gear. The woman grimaced in pain, but held back, biting her lip. She was a strong woman, with strong, masculine features. Once the pain receded, she smiled weakly. “My thanks. I owe you a debt that I intend to repay. I will help in any way possible to remove us from this underground tomb we have found ourselves in.”

    "We need to be careful and stick together if we're to make out of here. Let's tend to wounded then see if there are ways out. Master Horgus, will lead Master Aravashnial over to us please?"

    Horgus looked over his shoulder to where the blind elf stood, leaning on his staff, a look of dislike on his face. However, seeminly sensing the man’s discomfort, and before the aristocrat could speak, Aravashnial spoke up.

    “I can lead myself quite well,” the elf stated. “I will not hinder your progress, I assure you.” Those watching could see the obvious tension between the blind wizard and the noble. It appeared that the two were familiar with one another. Even Anevia seemed shocked at the prospect of Horgus lending aid to Aravashnial. There was something more to be learned about the survivors of Kenabres.

    "I am Florence Nightingale, lovely mistress," he said to her. "You are wise to keep your attention on the spider. There may be something suspicious about its death, or it could be nothing. I will inspect it closer. Cover me with your bow, if you will, milady," he requested respectfully and charmingly. He kept his voice low in the echoey cavern.

    "The spider is dead." She spoke loudly, her words holding a thick elven accent. "We need to attend to the wounded and the dead."

    As Florence spoke, Hael looked the man over, taking little interest in his silvery comments and compliments. She seemed distant, even though she had indeed heard him, lending more to her mystique. This only furthered Florence’s interest.

    "She did not spend her life so that we may fret over a lifeless husk and the weight of our coin purses."

    She accepted the dragons dying gift, and yet, it was obvious that she was truly dismayed at the death of the dragon Terendelev. Kenabres would diminish with her loss.

    Walking slowly, the bard glanced upward, hoping not to see more of the massive arachnids dangling from the ceiling, ready to pluck him from the ground, spin their web around him, and then suck the life from him. Unfortunately, his vision was obscured by thick darkness above. The ceiling was well beyond the light being cast by the spells and sunrod.

    Upon approaching the spider, his hand went instinctively to his weapon, as his ears heard the strange sound of chewing coming from within the belly of the dead spider, which smelled of death from several days of decay. As he took another step closer, he noticed the abdomen wriggling in a sickening, disgusting manner. Suddenly, an enormous maggot burst forth, followed rapidly by another. They had greasy, pale flesh and a dripping, circular mouth filled with tiny, sharp teeth.

    Shocked and disgusted, Florence was unable to react in time, as the first giant maggot bit him, inflicting a wound on his leg. Simultaneously, the other maggot wretched its dinner of dead giant spider all over his torso and legs, causing him to gag. However, Florence had seen many a disgusting scene in the taverns around Kenabres, and was able to keep from retching himself.

    OOC
    And now...A word from our sponsor:


    Please excuse the chaos of this post. It has been a long time since I ran a game on the forums, and a lot happened this round! If I missed anything, we'll fix it. If I need to change something on the map, we'll do so on the next round and just leave this map as it is for now.


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    And now we return to our regularly scheduled program!




    Fhaora: possible to find wood and cloth to craft a splint, requires a survival check. Anevia picks up scale, doesn’t hear any ‘voices’, returns it to whoever is interested in the scale from the PC’s. Takes Scale of Sacred Weapon.
    Celtar: Heal Check, success – knows Anevia’s leg is broken. Treats injury, creating a splint and DOES heal 3 points of injury.
    Evelyn: Diplomacy Check with Anevia, success. Anevia does not resist his aid. Heal Check to aid Celtar, success – grants Celtar +2 to his Heal Check.
    Florence: Perception Check on ceiling, does not spot any Spiders, but unable to see the ceiling as it is further than current light allows vision. Diplomacy check, success – Anevia is currently Friendly, but his sweet words move her to Helpful! Perception Check to search Spider, success – smells the foul smell of death, indicating spider has been dead several days, then hears strange noises coming from within the carcass of the spider. It sounds like muffled chewing, then sees a bulge wriggling inside the spider’s abdomen! Sets off initiative!
    Hael: chides those who seek profit, takes Scale of Cloudwalk.

    Initiative Time!

    Heroes (+2 average) 5 – rolled by Hael herself! Haha!
    Monster (-1) 12 – rolled by another friend at the game table.

    Monsters go first!

    Giant Maggot (#1) – Bursts from spider at Florence’s approach. Bite attack on Florence, 17 – hits! Does 3 points of damage.
    Giant Maggot (#2) – Bursts from spider at Florence’s approach. Uses Regurgitate ability to empty its stomach upon Florence. Fortitude Save (DC 13), 18 – success! Is NOT sickened for one minute!

    Heroes Turn!






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  9. #19
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    Florence wasn't unprepared for some sort of entanglement, if it was to be. A jack-of-all-trades, the bard had picked up on many things in his life in the city of Kenabres, including a knack for small tricks of magic. The maggot burst forth, but the moment it lunged to gnaw at his flesh there was no flesh to be found. Instead, a brief and vaporous shape of the bard gusted and swirled. In a split second the vapors were gone and replaced by Florence again in the flesh and blood, unscathed and reacting with swift diligence, though covered in foulness that nearly made him wretch when a second maggot burst from the arachnid and doused him with liquid disgust.

    Holding his mouth and nose in revulsion with one hand, Florence thrust forward, jabbing true with his rapier gripped in the other. The precise strike punctured the maggot, and with a deft withdraw he somersaulted back to stand defensively against the wiggling repulsive crawlers seeking food. He risked the defensive retreat to give clearer shot to the archers.

    But having wondered why she hadn't already loosed her bow, Florence turned his head quickly to see the elven woman in the leafy armor had already let her guard down. Elves were said to be quick and skilled with their bows. Perhaps this one wasn't. Most elves were certainly snooty enough on such matters as their marksmanship and speed. This one seemed more interested in claiming a dragon scale for herself than caution, all the while insinuating his own careful curiosity was instead greed of fortune. Elves, the human sighed. Yet elves had their eternal beauty that enraptured the eyes and hearts of men upon first sight. That alone was enough to evoke a soft spot for them in the bard's heart.

    Florence whirled his gaze back to face off with the maggots, as if to protect one and all if need be.

    "En guard!" he called to the crawlers jovially, as if they were instead a host of drunken excuses for swordsmen ganging up on him in a tavern. The point of his rapier twirled guardedly in front of him, ready. Florence wiped away some of the slime from his face with one sleeve, clearing an eye. He composed himself from the further urge to gag, and displayed a confident battle stance that spoke of dispatching of the menaces all by himself with systematic skill and patience if they came for him.

    OOC
    casting Windy Escape as immediate action to grant Florence DR 10/magic against the maggot attack that (would have) bit him. (Presuming Dorgyn that the maggot's bite is not magical, in which case Flornce won't take 3 damage.) Florence will take the regurgitation in stride lol. Nice one!
    Standard fight defensively (-4 attack/+2 AC) attack with rapier d20+5-4= nat 20. confirm crit d20+5-4= 10. presuming that's a hit but not a crit. 1d6+2= 4 piercing damage to Maggot #1.
    Move Action Acrobatics skill to tumble back from maggots: d20+9= 19. will tumble 15-feet (2 squares) NW. Current AC 18.
    Sweet, our first battle!
    The Red Condor shrieked at Sir Darvig in full wrath. Wings flapped storms of fire across the sky. "The Mage-God grows in power swifter than it appears to Paladine. This I know. A warning," Sargonnas told Darvigl, "for you to give to Paladine in your prayers."

    “I will,” Darvig uttered.

  10. #20
    Join Date
    Aug 2013
    Location
    NeverNeverLand
    Posts
    1,477

    Default Fhaora Songsteel

    Fhaora reacted calmly, but her stomach turned at the sight of giant maggots.

    She raised her shield up to her chin and stepped past Evelyn, unbuckling a chakram from her belt as she advanced. She took Florence's tactical retreat as her cue and decided to use her training in shield-wall tactics and act as a buttress. The smell of her lilac perfume masking the vile stink of maggot bile.

    She took position in front of the lightly-armored Florence and threw the sharpened ring of steel at the wounded maggot.

    OOC
    move 4 spaces to the East

    attack maggot #1
    Roll(1d20)+3:
    13,+3
    Total:16
    damage:
    Roll(1d8)+4:
    7,+4
    Total:11
    Last edited by Drakestendor; 03-16-2015 at 04:50 AM.

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