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Roland Tactically, Roland reflects on his limited options. Happily he had a lot of arrows. He puts two more into the bear for good measure, making a note of the quickling as well. TS on DB1 again. Also marking the quickling as quarry while I have a moment.. code:
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Sep 30, 2008 13:30
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Landra Things had been going so well, but her escape was short-lived, the other quickling had popped up in the predictably worst moment, and now the bear's sheer strength was starting to tell, squeezing the breath out of her. Still, she had to keep at it: if she couldn't get the fight back onto her terms, it would end very, very soon. Move: Escape again, Acrobatics +16 v. Reflex. If I escape, shift into O13. Standard: Comeback Strike. If I escape, target the quickling: otherwise, target the bear. (Reliable, +15 v. AC, 2d8+9 damage and can spend a healing surge.) No marks. code:
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Sep 30, 2008 17:44
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Perhaps having learnt from its previous failure to contain the swordswoman, the dire bear's grip is altogether merciless this time; Landra tries hard to slip out of its grasp, but to no avail. Busy as it is holding on to the eladrin, it can't dodge her blade very well, however, and it pierces one of the beast's natural armour plates, drawing copious amounts of blood. Landra feels revitalised by her successful strike. Finding itself surrounded by grim-looking foes, the quickling decides on a tactical retreat. With a ridiculous speed for such a heavily injured and dazed creature, it eludes the blades of its opponents as it scampers beneath the bear crushing Landra and out of sight, though it does accidentally catch on the edge of the eladrin's scimitar as it dashes away. Landra fails to escape from the dire bear's grab. She does land her Comeback Strike for 20 damage though, enabling her to spend a healing surge. The quickling gets out of dodge and goes invisible; Landra, Petra and Taldrel each get an OA against it as it moves out of an adjacent square, but all three attacks miss, with Landra at least dealing 5 damage thanks to Scimitar Dance.  code:
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Sep 30, 2008 18:17
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Alagand All that, and it got away. drat it. Well, there would be time to deal with the quickling later. For now, Alagand hopes that the bear holding Landra is on its last legs and that Roland can drop it. He swings his blade at the bear holding Petra, summoning dark energies to aid the paladin's attack. Unholy brand on DB #2. Giving the bonus to Petra code:
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Oct 1, 2008 00:13
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Even with a glaive, a raging bear isn't necessarily an easy target. This holds doubly true if said bear has its arms wrapped around one of the attacker's companions, whom he is trying to avoid hitting. Alagand finds out about this firsthand when his glaive's blade strikes metal instead of hide, failing to penetrate Petra's scale armour with an audible clang. The paladin isn't hurt by the attack, but then again, neither is the bear. Balancing lightly atop his boulder, Roland has a fairly good vantage point for sending arrows into the mêlée. This time, one of them goes astray, thudding uselessly into the muddy ground far away from its target; the other projectile hits squarely though, piercing the hide of the wounded bear with ease and sending a shudder through the monster. Alagand misses. Roland hits once for 21 damage. The map didn't actually change. code:
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Oct 1, 2008 00:45
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Annetta "gently caress! I hate those bloody little annoying little fuckers and their loving flickering out of loving sight!" Stress, annoyance and a nice long string of profanity, cursing perhaps of a different sort as she once more felt the sting as the Arcane renewed itself through her flesh, this time splitting her lip a little, the metal-salt taste of blood trickling across her tongue as she once more tried to channel her witchfire, on the wounded bear this time in the hopes that the stupid thing would finally die. Once again renewing the missed Witchfire, trying this time for DB1. +13 vs Reflex, 4d6+8, -6 attack penalty till end of my next turn for it. Still will teleport to Q7 when something dies. code:
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Oct 1, 2008 05:29
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Roland How much can that monster take, Roland asks himself as he readies more ammunition.
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Oct 1, 2008 14:37
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Taldrel Darlhunt "Enough of this!" Taldrel yells, taking a mighty swing at the bear that just won't die. His helm glows brightly. Using Lead the Attack on DB1, +14 vs AC, 3d8+9 (+3d6 crit), on hit allies in 5 squares gain +4 power bonus to attack rolls against the target, +1 if I miss. Using helm of heroes (free action) to grant Roland another shot at +2 damage. code:
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Oct 1, 2008 19:58
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Coreladdabar IV of Lockhaven Coreladdabar frowns. These things just wouldn't die, and he was running out of damage dealing spells. One more spell rattles from his fingertips. An image of a bottomless chasm forms directly under the remaining bear. Casting Phantom Chasm to K-12, burst 1, +12 Int vs Will. Hit: 2d6+7 damage, target is prone and immobilized until end of its next turn. Miss: target immobilized until end of Coreladdabar's next turn. Gonna use Storm Spell to retrieve a used spell. code:Stormtrooper fucked around with this message at 04:37 on Oct 2, 2008 |
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Oct 1, 2008 20:15
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Petra M'orderial Petra struggles against the bear's grip. He tries to whip himself around, so he can at least match the bear's gaze. He roars, "Get thee hence, beast!" and stabs viciously at the bear's midsection with his sword. Move: Attempt to escape, +7 vs. Reflex or Fort (whichever's lower, I'm guessing Reflex). Minor: Divine Challenge to bear. Standard: Invigorating Smite, +15 vs. Will, hit: 2d8+9 fire damage (crit: 25+2d6 fire damage) and I and bloodied allies within 5 squares (Landra) regain 7 hit points. code:
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Oct 1, 2008 20:42
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To end their struggle with the wounded bear is Taldrel's goal, and the half-elf achieves just that, neatly putting the tip of his spear through its eye. The creature freezes as the weapon penetrates deep into its skull; then, letting out a low, drawn-out growl, it collapses, Landra just barely avoiding being buried beneath its now lifeless bulk. The death of the bear brings about a surge of fey energies within the nearby warlock, and she vanishes, reappearing a short distance to the west. Again she sacrifices some of her own strength to wield her bewitching fire, and flings it at the remaining dire bear. While the third time sometimes is the charm, in this case it isn't; different bear, same result – the beast shakes off the mystical flames, no worse for wear. Coreladdabar, meanwhile, has only marginally more luck. His illusion fails to take hold in the monster's tiny mind, and causes no mental damage as the beast's notion of reality remains intact; it merely seems reluctant to leave its current spot, perhaps as an aftereffect of the vague image he attempted to create. As the eladrin did a few moments before, Petra pits his dexterity against the bear's reflexes, and emerges from their contest victorious. Taking a few steps back, he flashes his burning longsword at the creature and lands an awesome blow that leaves a long, scorched cut running across the beast's nose and past one of its eyes. So righteous is this blow that its divine might soothes some of Landra and Petra's wounds. Infuriated by both the paladin's attack and the death of its companion, however, the bear then strikes back equally mercilessly, almost knocking Petra senseless again. Its attempts to take him up in another hug go astray, at least. Taldrel hits, reducing DB#1 to exactly 0 HP. (Incidentally, since the description of the Helm of Heroes specifies that you "[use] this power when you grant an ally a basic attack", you couldn't use it in this case, since Lead the Attack doesn't grant anyone a basic attack. It could be used with Surprise Attack, for instance.) Annetta's pact boon goes off, teleporting her to Q17. With only one bear left I've assumed she'll be targetting the other one with Witchfire instead, but misses. Coreladdabar misses as well, but at least immobilizes the bear until the end of his next turn. Petra escapes the grab, challenges the bear and promptly crits for 33 damage, restoring 7 hitpoints each to Landra and himself. The bear then hits him twice for 30 damage, but fails grab to him.  code:
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Oct 1, 2008 21:20
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Landra Scrambling out from under the tumbling hulk of the dead bear, Landra looks around hurriedly, but there's no sign of that bothersome quickling. It was past time for it to pop up again and gut someone, and realising that cut short any celebrations that she might have done at being able to breathe again, or feeling Petra's divine energy knitting some of her broken bones. Not to mention the giant bear still menacing them - it, at least, was easy to see. Moving around the back of the trio holding the bear at bay, she throws her momentum into a heavy, cutting swing. Move to O11, then N10, then M10. (around Alagund's back to avoid OAs), then use Crack The Shell against the bear. Crack the Shell: Reliable, 1 melee target Standard: +15 v. AC, 2d8+9 dmg, target takes ongoing 5 and -2 to AC (save ends both) code:Dallan Invictus fucked around with this message at 21:49 on Oct 1, 2008 |
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Oct 1, 2008 21:39
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Finally free of the ursine's embrace, the eladrin swordfighter moves past those of her companions already locked in battle with the remaining bear before laying into its flank with a wicked scimitar stroke. The strike cuts deep and deeper still, hot blood spilling over Landra's hand, and for a moment she actually fears the weapon might slip out of her hand and disappear into the beast's guts entirely. With a spray of gore, the blade is ripped out again. It has drunk deeply, having scored a vicious blow indeed; a large wound in the bear's side both expelling a continous flow of blood and hindering its movements now. With everyone amazed and, perhaps, a little disturbed by this grisly display of carnage, the quickling, appearing out of nowhere once more, easily manages to slip its knife beyond Petra's defences and into his vitals. His eyes rolling back in his head, the paladin collapses. Again. Grinning cruelly, the quickling stops and licks his blood off its blade. Landra crits on the bear for 53 (!) damage. Until it saves, it is subjected to ongoing 5 damage and a -2 penalty to AC as well. Everyone's favourite quickling drops by to hit Petra for 22 damage, dropping him to -9 and ending his mark.  code:MMAgCh fucked around with this message at 22:04 on Oct 1, 2008 |
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Oct 1, 2008 22:02
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Annetta Annetta lets out more curses, profanities in both the common tongue and elven, skin splitting painfully across her upper right forearm as the witchfire returns to her, unspent. And once again, she attempts to bring out the eldritch flames to burn the great bear from within. Once more will renew the Witchfire through the Sacrifice, and once more will attempt to Witchfire the Bear. +13 vs Reflex, 4d6+8 (+2d8 on crits), -6 attack penalty etc etc. I hate the dice as much as they apparently hate me. code:
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Oct 2, 2008 00:05
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Alagandcode:
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Oct 2, 2008 02:23
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Taldrel Darlhunt Ripping his spear from the dead bear's eye, Taldrel whips around to the next available target - the final bear. Rather than kill it himself, Taldrel yells for Landra to strike again, thankful that she has been doing a lot of the work for him. Commander's Strike on Landra. Her basic melee attack. code:Clanpot Shake fucked around with this message at 04:11 on Oct 2, 2008 |
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Oct 2, 2008 02:56
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Petra M'orderial Petra gets up, visibly not shaken at all. Being brutally struck down in combat is a paladin's job. It's another day at the office for him. He takes a deep breath before exploding into fury. Move: Stand up. Minor: Divine Challenge to bear. Standard: second wind, +2 to all defenses until start of my next turn. Burning action point, standard: Enfeebling Strike, +15 vs. AC, hit: 1d8+9 fire damage (crit: 17+2d6 fire damage) and bear takes -2 to attacks until the end of my next turn. code:Aschlafly fucked around with this message at 04:04 on Oct 2, 2008 |
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Oct 2, 2008 03:37
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Roland That loving quickling had to go down. Roland had a few tricks left. AOTR on the quickling, both attacks. Elven Acc if I miss. code:
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Oct 2, 2008 03:40
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Coreladdabar opens his mind to the arcane storm surrounding him, surrounding everybody, even though they who can sense and knowingly benefit from it are few in number. He finds it more than receptive and clearly visible to him, pulsing and flowing in everchanging patterns of a myriad colours, a dance more hypnotising and enchanting than anything he can imagine. There are possibilities here, so many possibilities, so much power; he need only reach out and take what he desires. After experiencing a streak of bad luck, Alagand finally gets his glaive to pierce the bear's natural armour and draw some blood. Even as the beast roars in irritation, Landra senses a blessing swirl about her scimitar's blade, urging her to strike at the bear. Positively fed up with the quickling, Roland takes careful aim and unleashes two more arrows. The fey, regarding its handiwork in the form of the unconscious Petra, still is grinning smugly when one of the projectiles slams into the side of its head and goes clear through, catapulting one eye and most of its brain out the other side and onto the ground with a subdued squish. The other shot barely keeps up with the rapidly collapsing quickling, taking off its nose and hitting the ground not far from where the body fell. Taldrel shouts words of encouragement at the gravely injured paladin, and somehow, they bring Petra back to consciousness, revitalising him in a way that seems should be magic, yet by all appearances isn't. Afterwards, the warlord urges Landra to strike against her foe again, which she does; however, even Alagand's added boon of accuracy cannot turn that swing into a full-on hit. The eladrin merely deals a shallow cut to the bear's chest, but it is enough. Being backed into the proverbial corner, the mighty ursine furiously lashes out at its opponents in a mindless rage; only Taldrel manages to duck beneath its claws in time, but none of the others is spared – not even Petra, who still lies prone, or Alagand, who has wisely remained several feet away from the creature. Landra even finds the bear paying her back for that serious wound she dealt it earlier, its claw smashing into her side with great ferocity, adding some more broken bones to her growing collection. Meanwhile, Annetta finally gets her magic to do its job. At first, it seems the fey flames again will be shaken off by the beast, but then they suddenly and rather violently burst into its eyes, eliciting a startled, pained roar from the bear. This ghastly radiance continues to shine from its eyes, appearing to almost blind the monster; it snarls in confusion as its massive head wavers from side to side, clearly disoriented. Corel gets a 28 on his Storm Spell roll, so he can regain whichever power he wishes. Alagand hits for 12 damage and gives Landra +4 to her next attack against the bear. Roland hits once and misses once; total damage is 45, which obliterates the quickling, so I didn't bother with Elven Accuracy. Taldrel uses Inspiring Word on Petra, healing 9 hitpoints in addition to a healing surge. He then uses Commander's Strike to let Landra get in another attack on the bear, which misses on a natural 1. She deals 5 damage anyway, which bloodies the bear and causes it to go into Dire Rage: Landra takes a crit for 26 damage, Petra and Alagand are hit for 21 and 17 damage respectively, Taldrel is missed. Annetta ~HITS~ for 25 damage, bestowing a -6 penalty on the bear's attack rolls until the end of her next turn.  code:MMAgCh fucked around with this message at 15:58 on Oct 2, 2008 |
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Oct 2, 2008 04:51
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Roland That put paid to the quickling, but the bear seemed to be in a death frenzy. Nothing for it but to put it down as fast as possible.
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Oct 2, 2008 15:46
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Coreladdabar IV of Lockhaven Ah, another spell. How convenient. Coreladdabar manifests an instance of a spell already used, and bestows its effects upon the hapless bear. Once again lighting and thunder fill the air. Casting Storm Cage to I-12, burst 2, +12 Int vs Ref. Hit: 4d6+7 damage, any creature that starts its turn adjacent to the wall or moves into a wall square takes 10 lightning damage. Moving into a wall square costs 1 extra square of movement. The wall does not grant cover or concealment. It lasts until the end of your next turn. code:Stormtrooper fucked around with this message at 18:05 on Oct 2, 2008 |
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Oct 2, 2008 17:55
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The wizard almost casually reaches into the spell storm, drawing forth a tempestuous accumulation of lightning and thunder that already served him well once in this fight. It lingers in his mind but briefly as Coreladdabar calls it down on their last remaining opponent, and it appears that even Kord himself could not strike the creature more mercilessly; it is shocked and scorched by lightning and battered by thunder when the half-elf's spell bursts into existence around it, creating another cage of lightning. Those near the bear, while remaining uninjured by it, can nevertheless feel the hairs on their arms and necks rise as the spell violently discharges, the sudden smell of ozone overpowering even the stench of steaming blood. Not one to be discouraged by merely falling unconscious, Petra rises to his feet again and presents the bear with his blade once more. He takes a moment to catch his breath and ensure his defences are in order before drawing on a last surge of energy to propel himself towards the bear blade-first; this determined display of action lightens some of the exhaustion of battle in his nearby comrades, even though the stroke itself goes wide. The bear itself is on its last legs by now; beset from all sides, a red, primal rage clouds its mind, smothering all notions of self-preservation or escape as it furiously lashes out as those who seek to injure it. It shakes off the last afterimages of the wizard's illusory chasm, but blood still gushes from the great wound Landra cut into its side, Coreladdabar's freshly wrought lightning barrier scorches the bear some more, and Annetta's witchfire radiance blinds it to a considerable degree; despite all this, the bear's sheer wrath sees one of its raging blows come through, hitting Petra with a fury he wouldn't have expected the monster to be able to muster anymore. It is quite possible that this was its parting shot, however; its guts appear to be starting to work their way out from the gash in its side, and it seems unlikely the bear will hang on for much longer. Corel regains Storm Cage and promptly crits with it for 43 damage. Petra gets up, challenges the bear and uses his Second Wind; he then spends an AP (which, thanks to his paragon path, restores 2 hitpoints to all allies within 5 squares and, thanks to Taldrel, gets him +1 attack and +3 damage on his next attack) to use Enfeebling Strike, which misses anyway. On the start of its turn, the bear takes 15 total damage thanks to Crack the Shell and Storm Cage, then hits Petra once for 20 damage. It fails to save against its ongoing damage and AC penalty.  code:
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Oct 2, 2008 18:40
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Landra She was out of tricks and staggering from the blows she had taken, but the bear was clearly worse off, bleeding and smelling of lightning-burnt fur. She could rest when it was dead: for now, she moved to exploit the wounds she had already left. Just basic-attack the bear: +15 v. AC, 1d8+9. code:
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Oct 2, 2008 20:21
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Roland Roland's harp sings once more with the sweetest of songs as he continues to turn the bear into a big rear end pincushion. TS on DB code:
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Oct 2, 2008 20:39
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Alagand repeat action: unholy brand on DB, bonus to Landra. Note that the bonus lasts until the end of Alagand's next turn, so Landra has it for her attack. Will also allow the bear's crit on Landra to trigger Tiamat's Vengeance, giving her CA for a total of +6 to hit  . code:
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Oct 2, 2008 22:29
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Somewhat eerily, Landra feels a desire for vengeance take hold of her in response to the resounding blow the dire bear struck her. It is as if something inside her is urging her to strike back at the beast right this instant, to return unto it its transgression against her person thousandfold. It's definitely not a natural feeling, and arguably not very pleasant either, depending on whether or not one enjoys reveling in the bloody slaughter of those by whom one has been wronged. Personal stances aside, at any rate, the eladrin definitely is more aware of her enemy all of a sudden; the minor movements of its muscles are like an open book to her, and she is fairly certain she will know what it is going to do before the creature itself acts. All anticipation aside, however, Landra also remembers the basics of swordfighting, the fundamental techniques taught to her countless years ago, and swings her sword at the bear in a good, honest arc. There is nothing flashy to it, and sometimes, it turns out, the simplest aims in life are achieved the most easily, as the blow hits its mark soundly, almost taking the bear's nose off. Alagand's glaive, too, strikes true, avoiding its protective bone plates and almost, but not quite ripping the beast's throat open. It is a telling blow at any rate, one that drives the bear to rear up, trying to focus on the offending elf with radiance-seared eyes. Again Alagand whispers a few words as the blade hits, and again his fellow swordfighter feels a divine hand prepare to guide her blade, courtesy of the former cleric of Tiamat. Here is where the established hunter steps in and ends the matter, though. Here is where years of experience at stalking his quarry shine through, here is where he wills his arrow to strike where it must and when it must to take down the prey. Silhouetted against the grey-clouded evening sky stands Roland, his trusty longbow in hand, and smoothly nocks two arrows as though the nearby fight were entirely incidental. A slight jerk of the hand, and they go flying, parting no rain drops as they fly, for the rain has ceased; blood is all that is dripping on the earth now, but Roland's arrows contribute nothing to this, striking as they do with marvellous accuracy. One slips just so between the plates covering the beast's chest, entering the body and, the elven archer simply knows, striking and stilling its hammering heart; the other finds its mark between the bear's eye and ear, penetrating smoothly into the skull and destroying the brain, both projectiles hitting simultaneously. Still rearing up, the beast freezes for a moment, a growl dying in its throat. Its eyes' unnatural radiance expires. Staggering, stumbling forward, the dire bear collapses just a foot or two shy of Petra and Taldrel, smashing heavily into the soft ground and dousing the two half-elves in mud from the chest down. The evening grows peaceful again. Coreladdabar's conjured sheet of ice melts as though a dozen dragons had breathed their fiery fury on it; the large magical web disappears soon afterwards, first falling apart at the nodes before vanishing into thin air; finally, with a last crack of thunder, the cage of lighting devours itself and is gone. All is quiet once more. Only the heavy breathing of this battle's survivors breaks the silence at ragged intervals; somewhere in the distance, an owl hoots, and the cool evening breeze is not heard in the grass as much as it is felt on the skin. Though it lasted less than a minute, the fight felt like it took hours to most of the adventurers, and as night continues to set in, exhaustion finally begins to take its toll. Landra hits for 16 damage. Alagand hits for 12 damage and grants the eladrin some bonus or another. It is quite irrelevant however, as Roland then hits for 31 damage altogether and kills the bear. Combat is concluded.
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Oct 2, 2008 23:10
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Taldrel Darlhunt Taldrel takes a moment to survey the field. All threats down. Closing his eyes, Taldrel takes a long, deep breath. He reflected briefly on the fight and his own performance, and that of his companions. They fought together well, Landra in particular seemed eager to swing at a yell, but he thought he might need to keep a closer eye on the Paladin. Coming out of his short rumination, Taldrel again surveys the field, this time taking in his companions. A person's actions following such a fight told you a lot about their stance toward killing. Taldrel knew what his would say, to the perceptive among them - he enjoyed the fighting. Granted, he found these beasts from the woods less interesting - if powerful - foes, but it was an entertaining fight overall. He watched his companions with interest, particularly the warlock. Never could trust a warlock. Taldrel began wiping the gore off of himself and his weapon. Not that his weapon or armor would rust, he just didn't like the smell of old blood. When he finishes, "We should move on - it's getting late. Shall we continue into the woods or make camp here? I doubt we'll make it to Farling before nightfall."
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Oct 3, 2008 03:49
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Petra M'orderial Petra calms down from the battle quickly. His adrenaline high departs as the realization of what he's just done hits him, so he doesn't waste any time. "Are all of you well?" He extends a healing hand to Landra's side, mending her broken bones with some of his life force. Years of battle have weaned Petra from his sense of sorrow and pity for the fallen, but they haven't beaten it out of him completely. "We ought to make camp soon," Petra says to the group. "But we have taken five lives, and at least two of them"--he gestures to the bears--"knew not that they did anything wrong. I shall request a moment of silence for the fallen, but I won't judge any among you who don't join me in it." As he speaks, he purposefully checks the necks of the two bears to make sure there's no pulse. In the one Roland fell, he notices a weak, residual heartbeat. He takes a moment to quench the flame on his sword before making a quick, shallow cut to an artery on the bear's neck. It's a technique he learned as a hunter and as a paladin of Melora, a painless way to hasten their drift into oblivion. Of course, the arrow in the bear's brain is likely to kill it before it can bleed to death this way; this is as much a way to ease Petra's conscience as it is to ease the beast's suffering. Petra repeats the process with the owlbear. He has a little more trouble locating the beast's jugular, but eventually he finds it. Unsurprisingly, there's no pulse. The two quicklings are pretty obviously dead, but Petra still regards them with a sad eye. He kneels over the creatures and hastily whispers a prayer. Anyone who's close (Landra, Alagand, Taldrel): "Blessed mother of the wilds, forgive us that we have trespassed upon thy quarry. May the blood of these creatures hallow thy grounds, not stain them, and may their souls quickly be spirited away, that no further suffering may come to them. I am thy humble servant and have taken life only that I may preserve it. Na." Lay on Hands on Landra. She can spend a healing surge and regain an additional 5 hit points.
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Oct 3, 2008 04:06
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Annetta Annetta wanders in towards the group, avoiding the worst of the mudholes that make up far too much of this place. As she approaches, a hand sweeps under her nose, smearing the blood a bit before pulling her hand, scowling at the red that quickly dissipates in the rain. "That was highly annoying. I agree with the idea of setting up camp, and further, I would say somewhere that is not here. Nothing quite unsettles sleep like the charnel house scent of spilled blood and voided bowels," she said with an indifferent shrug, but before she would leave she would check the quickling corpses for anything of interest, be it wealth or knowledge or magic.
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Oct 3, 2008 04:52
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Roland Roland is down from his perch instantly, heading over to the bears. Dire bear steaks were fine, fine eating. As he draws his long knives out, wickedly sharp curved blades going to work, he replies, "Aye, a bit of rest is just the thing. Still, it's fair play that we've been blooded as a crew now. Good to see where the strengths of each man lie before facing darker foes." Cutting big rear end bear steaks
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Oct 3, 2008 14:20
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Landra Exhausted, she sways into Petra's outstretched hand and immediately feels just that little bit better, as Melora's energy drains into her. "Thank you," she murmurs to him, and she's actually grateful to the saintly young man - no chiding from her this time as he moves past her to pray over the vanquished. Looking around the broken, muddy landscape, she reflects while idly cleaning her bloody blade, every wipe bringing her closer to calm, down from the cackling arrogance or desperation that had marked the past moments. That fight had been closer than she had expected, and they would need to take every lesson they could to avoid falling the next time. Glancing across to Taldrel and Annetta, she nods sharply. "We should try and camp in the woods. They might even offer a clue as to where these came from. Aside from 'the Feywild.', of course, before some wit suggests it."
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Oct 3, 2008 18:08
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Alagand Alagand frowns thoughtfully as he watches Roland go to work on the bears. "Do you think that this is the same sort of thing that's been happening everywhere monsters have been appearing, or do you think something more interesting is going on here?" he asks no one in particular. "What was it the little fey said?"
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Oct 3, 2008 18:19
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Petra M'orderial His conscience satisfied for the time being, Petra removes his armor and the tunic underneath to have a look at his wounds. His body is thinner and leaner than one would expect for a warrior, and it's covered with scars and small deformations, the result of a thousand powerful blows and stabs he's suffered without complaint, as well as a lush, rich landscape of vine and branch tattoos. One of his arms is pretty far from where it's supposed to be, so he pushes it back into his shoulder as neatly as he can. Additionally, he's got a few powerful gashes and bruises on him, including a deep, nasty-looking wound where a broken rib is jutting out slightly and blood is slowly leaking out. Getting stabbed by a fey and mauled by a bear in the same spot tends to hurt quite a bit. He sits on a rock and removes a needle and thread from his backpack. He wills his sword aflame so he can sterilize the needle; then, he grimaces as he pushes his rib back into place and begins sewing that wound shut. "It was not a dialect I am familiar with," Petra says in response to Alagand's query, "but it was something like 'he is more mighty than you'." Turning to Annetta and Corel, he inquires: "We were drawn to this position by signs of powerful magic. Do the two of you still sense anything? We should not forget why we were diverted from our quest." He bites the thread as he finishes closing the wound before checking the rest of his body. He reaches around to check his back; there's a bit where two of his lumbar vertebrae seem to be sticking out, another result of the fey's sword, and he's lucky not to be paralyzed from the waist down. "I cannot reach this one," he gestures. "Could someone set the spine into place and sew it shut for me?" He offers the needle and thread, as well as his two leather gloves. Spending three healing surges.
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Oct 3, 2008 19:19
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Knives in his hands and steaks on his mind, Roland makes his way towards the bear carcasses, already thinking about how to best carve them up. There's enough meat on these two beasts alone to feed the lot of you for weeks, assuming you could find a way of lugging several hundred pounds of bear meat around without it spoiling, that is – or getting sick of eating nothing but bear, for that matter. It turns out to be a moot point, in any case: the elf hasn't quite reached the corpses when they simply disappear and are gone, all bodily fluids and severed limbs included. If there was any magic at work just then, no one present sensed any – it was rather the opposite in fact; for the briefest of instants, something like an absence of magic lingered where the bodies lay. Coreladdabar saw the gaps in the spell storm quite clearly while they lasted, as though a maelstrom of indeterminate nature swallowed all traces of arcane energy for a moment. He has never seen such a thing before; even fields created to negate the presence of magic, rare as they are, ultimately use magic themselves, drawing out any magical energies from the warded area and randomly radiating them out into the surrounding world. Whatever this phenomenon might have been, it was something entirely different, something he has no explanation for. At a second glance, not all bodies are gone; one of the quicklings', the one slain by Landra, remains for some reason. Annetta kneels down to examine it more closely. Aside from the weapon its lifeless hand still grasps, a simple cloak woven from dark grey stuff is all the fey seems to have had to its name. The garment itself is of little interest, but the brooch holding it together at the creature's neck causes the warlock to take note, as it clearly tingles with magic. It is a beautiful thing, a little less than two inches in size, wrought flawlessly of what appears to be silver, reinforced around the outer edges with some type of more ordinary, heavier metal. A masterfully carved emerald in the shape of an oak leaf is set in its oval form, looking almost uncannily like an actual, if unusually tiny leaf. An enchantment of warding has been worked into it as well that keeps safe both the body and the mind, and it appears that the brooch provides additional protection against attacks based on pure force. As soon as the magical piece of jewelry is removed from it, this body, too, vanishes. Though it would appear that the removal of the brooch had something to do with its disappearance from this world, there seems to be no magic to the thing other than the obvious protective enchantments. To a casual observer, the blades formerly wielded by the quicklings – which, along with the brooch, are all that remain behind – would appear to have been crafted with form over function in mind; the cross-guard is made to resemble a single, slender branch with blooming buds at both ends, and the pommel is shaped like the delicate blossom of a wild rose. Their blades are slightly curved and quite keen, almost dagger-like in shape, fitting given the way the quicklings used them; however, someone skilled with this type of short blade could readily use them as swords, as they are surprisingly sturdy, despite their appearance. Some minor magics have been laid on the weapons as well; nothing spectacular, only a common enchantment or two that make them more likely to penetrate or slip beyond armour and leave deep, painful cuts. Brooch of Shielding +3. For the AV-less, it has an enhancement bonus of +3 Fortitude, Reflex and Will, as well as granting resist 15 force. Power (Daily): Immediate Interrupt. Use this power when you are hit by an area, close, or ranged attack. Gain resist to all damage equal to the brooch’s resist force value against that attack. The quicklings' weapons are equivalent to shortswords +2. MMAgCh fucked around with this message at 20:20 on Oct 4, 2008 |
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Oct 3, 2008 20:19
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Roland Roland frowns. His dinner had vanished. That just was not fair. Man a guy with +1 shortswords sure could use some better ones doot dee dooo
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Oct 3, 2008 20:26
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Annetta Annetta plucks the broach up, watching with some consternation as the corpse quickly disappears...somewhere when it was gone. "Well, that is most curious..." she says, lips pursed as she examines the broach, examining it to understand it's underpinnings. "Anyone interested in the swords? Those and this broach seem to have been left behind. I am now exceedingly curious as to what brought these things about here, and even more what pulled them back... and why did the broach appear to hold this last one in place longer..." she glanced over the amulet once more, to see if there were no marks of creation or any hint as to it's creation and who or where they might be. Though her guess would wend most likely to the Feywild, which just raised more questions then it solved. Just one among a growing pile of mysteries. Lovely. Looking for any markings that might indicate who or what made the broach, as well as trying to sense any further arcane disturbances. Also, I pass on any of the loot, the broach would be nice, but I am sure there are others who it'd be a better upgrade for. +13 Perception, +14 Arcana
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Oct 3, 2008 21:15
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Taldrel Darlhunt Taldrel was surprised at the dead bears' disappearing act, but the look on Roland's face made him chuckle. "You weren't really going to eat those, were you, Roland?" Taldrel asks him, amused. "They seemed a little bony." Turning to Annetta, "I'm sure none of us have any use for a sword we found in the woods, but if it's agreeable we could split the profits from selling it later. Who knows, with magic disappearing, enchanted weaponry could become a hot commodity." Taldrel glances to Petra's gaping wounds, "and if that brooch offers any magical protection, I'd say Petra more than earned it." Those wounds looked nasty. "But we should move on soon. Camp will take some time to pitch and I'm sure after that we could all use the rest." No interest the in loot.
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Oct 4, 2008 02:37
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Roland "I've heard tales of quickling blades, mayhap they ring true. I'll carry them for now, then the pawnshop for them, eh? Can't never have too many blades. As to the bear, I've eaten the beasts before. Ye got to cut deep for the good cuts, far from horn and hoof is the wisdom of it, but critter that big got sweet meat buried deep within." He looks around. "Best not to bunk down here. Battle draws things. Move on a bit, make camp. See if I can scare up some proper game. Even some rabbit or a goose would be a treat." We can sell them later, I can stab things with them now!
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Oct 4, 2008 16:27
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Even on a very careful examination, the identity of the brooch's creator remains a mystery; whoever wrought this trinket was either too modest or too secretive to incorporate something resembling a signature anywhere on the piece. Still, a very broad guess or two can be made based on the quality of the craftsmanship and the general design. Unlike elves, who generally prefer to work with wood, the eladrin are widely renowned for their skill at smithing and crafting jewellry, and this brooch is exactly the type of intricate trinket they are fond of fashioning. Given the presumed origin of the creature that bore it, it is not impossible that this brooch was, in fact, crafted by eladrin hands – how it ended up in the possession of a quickling would be a different issue, though it's unlikely it changed owners by legitimate means if it is indeed eladrin-made. Another possibility, one perhaps slightly more credible given the late owner of the brooch, is that it was crafted by cyclopes; as Feywild natives, their sense of aesthetics is not as dissimilar from those of elves or eladrin as some tend to assume, and a trinket such as this would actually be considered but a minor display of skill among them. At the end of the day, it's impossible to say with any degree of certainty who was responsible for crafting this particular item, though – for all you know, it was made by a particularly skilled human craftsman years ago and somehow ended up in the hands of the quickling. Night continues to fall. With darkness slowly but surely creeping over the lands, it is becoming ever harder to see anything, particularly for the only human in the group, whose eyes cannot see well even in dim light, unlike those of her companions. With the rain having ceased, it is a cool, but not unpleasant evening, whose quiet extends into the invisible realm of the arcane as well; there are no signs of any other strange incursions into this world. Everything seems as peaceful as it could possibly be. Edit: decide on a leader. You can do this IC or OOC, I don't care, but you need someone who calls the shots for the group so we don't have to wait for seven people to find a consensus every time a choice has to be made. MMAgCh fucked around with this message at 03:05 on Oct 5, 2008 |
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Oct 4, 2008 19:04
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Petra M'orderial Petra remains seated, his back still giving him some trouble, but he examines the brooch as it makes its rounds throughout the group. He likes the leaf motif; from a purely aesthetic perspective, it's a good choice for a paladin of Melora. "I certainly appreciate the sentiment, Taldrel," he says. "Landra, if you'd like to take a look at it, feel free, but otherwise I'll be honored to put it to use." He sets it down, then feebly goes back to work repairing some of the damage to his body.
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Oct 4, 2008 20:12
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