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I mean, with 5 toughness and 1 armor he would actually survive with 1 wound left. Good thing there's a followup arrow whizzing toward him as well that'll take him to critical 8!
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Dec 23, 2015 14:42
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Crits in this actually work different. There's a chart with what critical level they're at that you roll 1d100 on. Even on crit 1 you have the chance to instantly kill someone, but you get a bigger chance with higher crits. Still, I have had a player instantly killed by taking one point of critical damage. I'm leaving for the holidays so updates will slow down until about Sunday. I'll resolve this combat this afternoon before I get on the road and get you guys to town and we'll break there. John Dyne fucked around with this message at 16:33 on Dec 23, 2015 |
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Dec 23, 2015 16:30
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Cavendish Locke, V.I. As the smoke cleared, Cavendish looked down at the fallen man. The pistol had made a ruin of him, the arrow would have been a mercy. "Two more for the grave, I fear. Thank you for your help, friends. Does anyone know if the victims had any next of kin in the caravan?" Cavendish picked up the Hochland bow and examined it. "A fine weapon, but not worth killing for. I suppose it escheats to the crown now. I will return it to the Magistrate, if the poor man had no relatives with us." Law: 1d100 41 To determine the appropriate procedure for disposing of the dead men's property. IRL, people without heirs will have their property revert to the state, as will weapons used in a crime.
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Dec 23, 2015 21:47
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Aelphas/The Watchman Aelphas is halfway back to the tree line when the sound of shouting barely gets the elf to turn around just in time to see one human brain another one with an axe. Before Aelphas can even begin to halfway muster a modicum of care in the situation, his traveling companions have the axe murderer dead on the ground. Aelphas shrugs and keeps heading towards the woods. Guess the killer was an idiot.
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Dec 24, 2015 06:07
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Holidays are done, back on schedule! Reacting quickly, Locke draws and fires his pistol at the deranged hunter, the shot tearing through his arm and staggering him, his face turning white with pain and shock. The nearby locals scream in terror, and all around, people turn towards the report of the elf's pistol with a mixture of terror and intrigue. Before he even gets a chance to wheel on the elf, however, Bernhart puts an arrow straight through his skull; the furious light in the man's eyes extinguishes quickly, and he slumps to the ground in a heap, dead. The crowd cheers for their saviors, and a close inspection of the bow reveals the initials of the dead hunter carved into the wood; it looks like the adventurers certainly found their man. Locke decides that the law in the area would likely have the weapon go to local law enforcement or the mayor, chief, or whatever the leader of the community is called. With Breitblatt only a day away, he decides to hang on to the weapon until such a time he can deliver it to someone who would put it to use or make sure it's taken care of properly. After a quick breakfast, camp is broken up and another day of travel is started. Mercifully, in light of recent events, the travel is uneventful, and a fair distance is covered before camp is once more set up. This time around, more of the refugees offer to help with the watch, and a perimeter patrol is set up, with specific guards sent to watch over the tents and what not in case someone else decides to go insane overnight. The Fourth Day Once again, the morning is calm and simple. Breakfast is made, conversation is had, and the camp is once again broken and packed up, and the road is once again pounded by the teeming mass of bodies seeking a new home. Most peasants in the Old World live, grow old, and die within a day's march of their home village, and the excitement in the air is palpable. Shortly before the sun hangs fully in the sky, the trip is finished; the refugees have made it to Breitblatt. Throughout the crowd, people cheer and begin to celebrate their safe passage. Flutes are produced, and people begin to sing, and festivity just simply blooms within the refugees. Breitblatt is nothing more than a small farming village a mile off of the Old Dwarf Road, but the recent battles have nearly emptied it; the few remaining villagers emerge from their homes to see their new neighbors, and a few come to inspect the goods that have been brought with them. The town's militia also comes to greet the newcomers, all six of them; one of them eagerly starts up a conversation to learn of news from the city. One by one, the group is thanked by the refugees, who are sad to see their protectors go but overjoyed to once again have a place they can call home. With their task done, there is time to shop around before the march back to Talabheim begins, and the peasants seem to be starting to put on even more festivities. Izzy has been MIA from the game since before Thanksgiving but has been active in other threads, so I'm going to assume he lost interest and drop Walter. I may have someone else join as his replacement. We will assume it was someone else that saw the sick child, and they can make the rolls as necessary.
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Jan 1, 2016 21:36
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 Olivid Ole New people! Perhaps even a caravan heading back to the city! Sweet relief. The villagers in Breitblatt are friendly and welcoming enough, and the speed and fluidity with which they've renamed established properties and farms borders on being actually interesting, but mostly Olivid's time here has been a waste. The local population was just too sparse to provide studies of worth (his maps of some years ago are sadly still accurate), and the local wildlife too dangerous to risk travelling back to the city without enough people to provide constant watch. He pauses on the edge of the open green where the village is meeting its new population, and surveys the arrivals. He notes that the trend in clothing seems to be rags, health seems low but morale high, and that most of the caravan are thanking a small group as though they have done them a service. A mixed bunch, look like freelance mercenaries rather than caravan guards or lord's men. He doesn't imagine they've come here to settle, travelling too light for that. The pale elf looks more like a merchant noble, travelling with a warrior priest and member of some sort of knightly order. Odd group. He waits patiently for the peasantry to finish filing past, then nips in at the end and thrusts a hand in their general direction, "Hello! Olivid Ole, cartographics and geography, University of South Nuln. Please tell me you're going back to the city?" pre:Name: Olivid Ole, lecturer in practical geography (on sabbatical) Race: Elf Career: Cartographer -> Forger -> Scholar Character Profile Primary : | WS | BS | S | T | AG | INT | WP | FEL| Starting : | 26 | 44 | 27 | 31 | 43 | 34 | 32 | 31 | Advance : | 05 | 05 | 10 | 10 | 20 | 30 | 15 | 15 | Taken : | 05 | 05 | 10 | 10 | 20 | 30 | 10 | 10 | Gained : | -- | -- | -- | -- | -- | -5 | -- | -5 | Current : | 31 | 49 | 37 | 41 | 63 | 69 | 42 | 46 | Secondary : | A | W | SB | TB | M | MAG | IP | FP | Starting : | 1 | 10 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 0 | 0 | 3 | Advance : | - | 09 | - | - | - | - | - | - | Taken : | - | 05 | - | - | - | - | - | - | Current : | 1 | 15 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 0 | 0 | 3 | Skills: Academic Know. (Geography, The Arts, Engineering) Charm Common Know. (Elves, The Empire, Bretonnia) Evaluate (+10 from Dealmaker, +10 for art from Artistic) Haggle (+10 from Dealmaker) Lip Reading (+10 from Excellent Vision) Navigation (+20 from Orientation, Super Numerate) Outdoor Survival Perception +10 (+10 with sight from Excellent Vision, +20 when estimating from Super Numerate) Read/Write +10 (+10 from Linguistics) Secret Signs (Thief) Speak Language (Breton, Classical, Dark Tongue, Eltharin, Goblin, Khazalid, Reikspiel) (+10 from linguistics) Trade (Artist[+20 from Artistic], Calligrapher, Cartography +10, Smith) Talents: Artistic Dealmaker Excellent Vision Night Vision Orientation Savvy Spec. Wep. Group (Longbow) Suave Super Numerate Advances: Free! Linguistics Free! Intelligence 100 Intelligence 200 Trade (Cartography) 300 Speak Language (Classical) 400 Academic Knowledge (Engineering) 500 Speak Language (Khazalid) Trappings: Writing Kit*2, Pony with tack, 10 map cases, trade tools (forger), a cheap long-knife (hand weapon), other usual guff goatface fucked around with this message at 17:35 on Jan 17, 2016 |
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Jan 3, 2016 03:18
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 Johann Johann isn't in the best of moods. Another group of recruits killed. These were worse than the last ones. Broke immediately when the vampire so much as glanced at them. To make it even more dire, Edouard's trail has gone completely cold. The witch hunter is wearing the characteristic tall hat of his order, is armed to the teeth, and is currently chewing out some poor villager for something or another. "...Which is WHY it's of vital importance that you leave your farm and come with me immediately. No, I don't care about your turnips. This is a..." There's a sudden convenient distraction of some of the village youth charging past to gawk at the incoming caravan, and with the farmer taking the opportunity to flee, Johann is left alone and with nobody to harangue. So he goes with the others to watch the refugees pouring in, and more noteworthy, the apparent leaders. He puts a hand on Olivid's shoulder and steps past and half in front of the elf with a muttered 'pardon me', addressing the group. "You look like sturdy sort. Templar Johann, of the Order of the Silver Hammer. I have need of people like you. Tell me. Are you true servants of the Empire?" IPlayVideoGames fucked around with this message at 05:47 on Jan 9, 2016 |
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Jan 3, 2016 21:07
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Cavendish Locke, V.I. Once the caravan arrived in Breitblatt, Cavendish went looking for a local magistrate or shire reeve. Even a militia commander would do, someone with sufficient authority to take responsibility for this mess. "I am glad to see that your village is so welcoming of these poor refugees; they have suffered much. I regret to report that one of the refugees, a man without family or home, went berserk and killed several of the refugees before we could stop him. The belongings of the killer and his victims are in the caravan; since I fear they have no next of kin, I leave them to you to dispose of." His duty to report the crime finished, Cavendish slips over to where the peasants are beginning to party. Even though he had no intention of staying too long, a chance for a warm meal and drink should not be passed by. sullat fucked around with this message at 00:12 on Jan 4, 2016 |
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Jan 3, 2016 23:47
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Snorri Snorri had grown sullen since the incident with the ogres; he felt cheated out of a good fight by that cursed wizard. Unfortunately, this attitude had led him to missing out on fighting the hunter entirely. Still, the prospect of free ale, even that weak piss humans drank, cheered him up no end. Pulling a battered tankard from his belt, he makes his way over to where a keg has been tapped and the amber liquid is flowing freely into anybody's cups. He tries very hard to ignore the revellers around him, even though an elf and a young human seem intent on gaining their attention. At the mention of being servants of the Empire, however, Snorri can't help himself. A derisive snort slips through his beard, and he cries, "The Empire! Bah, you'd better be careful who you're accusing of being a servant of the Empire, lad." He glowers up at the witch hunter before taking a long draught from his tankard.
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Jan 4, 2016 04:09
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Bernhart of the Western Wind The priest answer's the Witch Hunter's inquiry "As much a servant of the Emperor as any stout-hearted citizen. I am Bernhart, chosen of Taal." The priest extends his hand to shake the Witch Hunter's. "We've come bringing refugees from Taalagad to move them to a more permanent settlement. I reckon we'll be resting here for the night and starting on our way back to Talabheim in the morrow. What bring's Sigmar's Justice this far out in the country?"
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Jan 4, 2016 23:57
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Johann A long, appraising look and a "Hmm," is the only response Johann has to Snorri. He gives the Priest's hand a firm return shake. "Bernhart, I seek a roving undead monstrosity. I have pursued it for quite some time, but it is clever and desperate. It has killed many innocents and no doubt will continue to kill many more unless it is destroyed. If you are traveling to Talabheim then I will come with you. I suspect it is fleeing in that general direction." He steps in closer, lowering his voice. "Such monsters leave evidence of their corruption everywhere they go, should you have the eye for it."
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Jan 5, 2016 00:46
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Old Man Wiprecht Old Wiprecht perks up and shuffles nearer the new arrivals. He runs his fingers through his unkempt beard trying to rake off twigs and leaves. "University of South Nuln? My word, A fellow scholar! I am Professor Wiprecht, Department of Herbology, Amber Order."
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Jan 5, 2016 01:53
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Aelphas/The Watchman The final day of travel goes even slower than the prior ones, more to do with the anticipation of getting to their destination than anything else. Once there the elf slowly emerges from the forest, as the refugees start to assimilate into the town. When the two humans, one with a rather tall hat, approach, Aelphas sighs, hoping they don't have to now take refugees back with them. As The apparent witch hunter tries to recruit the group Aelphas just avoids eye contact and engaging him. The elf had enough of being press-ganged into this little babysitting; if this one man tried to press him into service, Aelphas would likely murder the man in the woods, and Aelphas hates murder. Instead, his ears perk up when Olivid indicates his profession. Cartography means maps, and maps are good business. There was an entire niche market when it comes to maps. Some of the illustrations on the borders of maps were artwork. Certain map makers have just as much a reputation and demand as artists. Sure, the map market is much more niche, but also lucrative. Aelphas slides right up to Olvid, and extends a snake-like hand, "Aelphas, owner-proprietor of Aelphas's Arts and Antiques. Nice to make your acquaintance. While I may not have any proper education like yourself, I have had to learn quite a lot about the academics of the art world. You are likely to be a better conversationalist than my company of late. Tell me, do you like art?" That's right Aelphas. Make his acquaintance first. If you come out asking to see his maps he might sniff you out. Make it seem like it's his idea to show you his maps.
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Jan 5, 2016 03:43
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Olivid Ole "An Order Professor? Here? I mean, uh, it's a pleasure to meet you." Olivid smiles awkwardly, unsure of protocol when dealing with such wizards. He is about to launch into some desperate small talk about the recent weather when Aelphas makes his opening gambit. Grateful for the escape he seizes the offered hand and shakes it vigorously. "Delighted, I'm sure. I have been known to dabble in the visual arts, most cartographers do, but I wouldn't really call myself an artist. I mean I've never really shown my works, though among such men of the..." He trails off and looks between the two figures, and then over at the rest of the group, his eye catching on the shock of orange hair. "An amber wizard, an art dealer, and a slayer... This is like one of those bad jokes where they all walk into a bar. What's going on?"
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Jan 6, 2016 22:26
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Just Jakob All in all, that job wasn't so bad after all. There was the scare with the ogres, and that nasty business with the crazed hunter, but the refugees were successfully move and could get back to their lives again. However, there was still one thing stuck in Jakob's mind, the image of that sick boy. He wasn't a doctor by any means, and it was probably nothing, but it just wasn't right to not tell someone about it. Then again, an Inquisitor had shown up out of the blue, and was trying to hijack the group to perform some task for him. Jakob should really just try to keep to himself, just worry on getting back home, especially since there's no telling what response an Inquisitor would have when he learned of a sick child. All the same... "Uh, excuse me, Johann? I am Jakob, a knight of Talabheim. Last night, one of the refugee families showed me their sick child. It's probably nothing, but there were rumors of a plague at Taalagad, and the boy's symptoms matched. I don't have any medical knowledge myself, but I was thinking perhaps we should ask around, and see if any other refugees have this sickness, and how severe it might really be? Hopefully in a way that doesn't cause mass panic."
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Jan 9, 2016 05:26
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Ironfoot Festivities mean free beer and no proper dwarf can pass up a free beer. I joined in the peasants festivities with a will. My tongue much loosened by a fair few pints, I probably gave the inquisitive militia man a far too honest account of the situation in Talabaheim. Rumors of plague, the city closed up as if under siege and up to their waist with refugees like this lot. No doubt more headed to Talabheim and then here; humans being so easily frightened and all.
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Jan 10, 2016 18:57
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Unfortunately for Ironfoot, the festivities most definitely did not include beer; the few kegs that had been brought along from Talagaad had already been tapped dry, and the little village itself had no one to keep the stuff that dwarves crave brewed, relying primarily on travelling merchants and neighboring towns for their ales. What little food that can be shared is shared, however, and the adventurers are treated to a light lunch courtesy of the refugees, including fresh rabbit hunted by the old hunter and his dog. The group sets back out for Taalagad; time is wasting, and everyone wants to get into Talabheim and get whatever they needed in the city done and finished with. The First Night Mercifully, the trip back is much less eventful than the trip up, which is in part due to having fewer people travelling between the two towns. The group passes their campsite from the morning long before setting up camp on their own, once again taking shifts on night watch. During the night, Jakob finds himself coming down with a cough and shivering in the night air, though it doesn't feel particularly cold. Snorri wakes up in his tent with a similar cough and shudders violently, even under his furs and blankets, and out on his own, watching the camp from a distance, Aelphas suffers similar effects. Jakob, Snorri, and Aelphas currently suffer -5% to all of their characteristics. The Second Day During the day's travels, the coughing fits of the slayer, Halfling knight, and dour elf are obvious to their comrades; Snorri seems to be handling the coughing and shivering fits with little more than annoyance, though Jakob and Aelphas seem more tired for it. Save for a spot of hunting by Bernhart and any who would aide him, the day seems to go by without much happening. A lunch of venison is had before the group presses on, and in two days of hard travel they see the towering walls of the Taalbaston ahead of them under the starry night sky. Once more, the group sets up camp, with Jakob and Aelphas opting to not take night duty this time around due to the exhaustion they feel. For the most part, the night passes by without much of note happening, but just before dawn, Ironfoot spots some furtive motion in the distance. Raising a silent alarm, he is joined by Bernhart and Locke, who arrive in time to witness several hunched figures suddenly racing from the woods across the road, moving towards the walls of the Taalbaston. The three men can tell that the figures are moving far too fast to likely be human.. Aelphas and Jakob fail a toughness test and suffer another -5% to their toughness score, putting them at -10% to toughness and -5% to all other stats. The three sentries have noticed something sprinting towards the city. If you want to track them, give me two -10% Follow Trail tests; the others can be assumed to be waking at this point either due to the commotion or just getting up because it's dawn.
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Jan 11, 2016 05:03
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Ironfoot Still disgruntled by the never to be sufficiently under-estimated fool human's lack of beer I was in no mood to let any chance of a bit of sport or a good fight escape unchased. Knowing there were ogres about I'd been standing my turn on guard on horseback. Not that I am scared of ogres, but it is much easier to fight them when my head is not level with their waist. I waited just long enough to be sure Bernhart and Locke had seen them too before kicking my horse into a gallop after the hunched figures. I have a horse! Can I ride them down? I also have a very lovely lance I would like to put to good use. Here's a roll for whatever you want to use it for. Chasing hunched figures: 1d100 39 That's a success if I can use perception (53) instead of Follow the Trail even after -10%
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Jan 11, 2016 05:35
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Johann "Jakob, I don't know much about disease about how to spot it. Probably much like anyone else. I'll keep my eye out for a doctor, and send him to you if I find one, hm? I'm not sure how forthcoming the refugees may be in giving me information. It seems sometimes people don't like to talk with me for some reason," Johann states dryly, toying with his crossbow pistol. --- Johann joins the others after the commotion, watching Ironfoot charge off. Dwarves, right? "What is he chasing?" he asks, squinting, before trudging after the dwarf and the figures. 88 and then 10 for the two follow trail rolls
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Jan 11, 2016 16:37
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Bernhart of the Western Wind The priest was up early for his morning rituals in the camp. He took a break from his routine to check up on Ironfoot on watch. The dwarf seemed to be sulking at the lack of alcohol, not that Berhnart blames him much, but he was worried about the dwarf's morale, hoping he wouldn't abscond to find a rural tavern. The priest was attempting his best at small talk when they both seen the scurrying forms in the road. Bernhart barely had time to question what he saw when the dwarf shot off into the wilds to give chase. The old priest sighs and curses out loud before giving chase into the woods bow in hand and quiver at the ready. ---- I was going to ask if I could substitute outdoor survival or navigation instead of taking a -30 on follow trail but I got an 83 (an obvious failure) and a 4 (an obvious success) for my results anyway.
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Jan 11, 2016 17:11
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I'll allow the sheer speed of the horse to overwrite the first Follow Trail, but your horse is going to churn up their tracks and will make the first test harder for anyone attempting it, making it -30%; I can't say if the evidence that'd be found is important or not, but people will be able to follow you by the fact you're on a horse and wearing plate and do the second test from there. e: and Bernhart, the one I expected to get the first Follow Trail, fails it anyways.  I'll let other people try and LLSix decide if he's going to make the test harder or not, and update tonight or tomorrow based on LL's decision.
John Dyne fucked around with this message at 17:17 on Jan 11, 2016 |
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Jan 11, 2016 17:13
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John Dyne posted:I'll allow the sheer speed of the horse to overwrite the first Follow Trail, but your horse is going to churn up their tracks and will make the first test harder for anyone attempting it, making it -30%; I can't say if the evidence that'd be found is important or not, but people will be able to follow you by the fact you're on a horse and wearing plate and do the second test from there. I literally do not have follow trail as a class skill. Being a priest of Taal and Rhea give me outdoor survival, Navigation, and Charm Animal. The skill bloat in WHFRP2 is kind of dumb. Edit: Even if I did have Follow Trail, putting a -10 modifier on it gives me a 26% chance to actually do so. DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 17:42 on Jan 11, 2016 |
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Jan 11, 2016 17:39
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Cavendish Locke, V.I. Cavendish saw the brash young witch hunter try to commandeer the party. Such unsubtle witch hunters rarely survived long, but had a tendency to draw out trouble. Cavendish resolved to keep an eye on the young man after they returned to Talabheim, since he might draw the renegade out from wherever he was hiding. A few nights into their journey, Cavendish saw some skulking figures around their camp. Although they were probably just peasants or hunters on some rural errand, the encounter with the beserk hunter had left Cavendish a little paranoid. Checking to see that his pistol was loaded, he slipped out after the figures. Unfortunately the tracks eventually disappeared. "Why am I out in these damned woods chasing shadows? I hate the woods," he muttered. Follow trail: 2#1d100 49 78 v. 58
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Jan 11, 2016 18:08
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DeathSandwich posted:I literally do not have follow trail as a class skill. Being a priest of Taal and Rhea give me outdoor survival, Navigation, and Charm Animal. The skill bloat in WHFRP2 is kind of dumb. Oh right, I keep assuming you have it because of the whole Taal thing, when it's Locke that has it. WHAT KIND OF HUNTER PRIEST ARE YOU SANDWICH
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Jan 11, 2016 18:09
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Old Man Wiprecht Wiprecht lighted up his pipe and took a few puffs to help him think. After a small while he reckoned that tracking isn't his forte and he should let others handle it. "Chasing shadows is easy, my man." he mumbles "It's when you are being chased by them the forest becomes really scary." I guess in theory I could
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Jan 11, 2016 19:35
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John Dyne posted:I'll allow the sheer speed of the horse to overwrite the first Follow Trail, but your horse is going to churn up their tracks and will make the first test harder for anyone attempting it, making it -30%; I can't say if the evidence that'd be found is important or not, but people will be able to follow you by the fact you're on a horse and wearing plate and do the second test from there. I like it. Going to make the first roll harder.
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Jan 11, 2016 20:32
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I am the map-king, lord of maps. Do I know of anything interesting that exists in the direction they were running? Navigation (int) in runners' direction vs 89: 1d100 47
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Jan 12, 2016 01:01
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With the alarm raised, Ironfoot takes off like a shot after the hooded figures; they glance backwards at him as he follows on his horse, and the panic of being trampled by a horse seems to pus them on, still moving at inhuman speeds. The path through the forest slows the knight and his horse down considerably, and before long he loses sight of the scoundrels. Behind him, the witch hunter, the warrior priest, and the investigator catch up with him, winded by their sprint through the forest; any tracks that the fleeing men would have left have been ruined by Ironfoot's pursuit. However, Johann realizes that they may well be following the wrong set of prints, and returns to the road, where after a bit of searching he finds a set of prints that would have lead towards where the fleeing pair had gone. Curiously, they are rodent-like footprints, but created by a man-sized creature. Leading the others back the way the prints came from leads the group to the bank of the Talabec River, where there is a large cluster of the footprints in one small section of the muddy riverbank. The witch hunter's keen eyes spy what looks like to be damaged parcels by a set of rocks nearby, and crouching down, he spies a strange, powdery substance has been left behind. Beyond this, there is nothing to tell the tale of what had happened in the area. Olivid's maps show that the direction the suspects fled in would take them towards the Taalbaston surrounding Talabheim, but the sheer rock surface surrounding the city would force them to head either west towards Taalagad, or east towards Brietblatt. Everything else would just be forest for miles and miles around. DAY THREE Once things settle down with the strange sightings from the morning, the group has a meager breakfast and packs up, heading back towards town. All but Johann and Olivid feel a bit under the weather after the morning exertion, but Jakob and Aelphas both look even worse than they did the night before. The group takes it slow, not wanting to overexert themselves and risk getting sicker, and Johann and Olivid find themselves the only two not coughing and shivering as the day goes by. Everyone stops at nightfall, despite only being a few short miles from Taalagad, and camp is set up once again, off further from the road to keep an eye on any other strange goings on. As Bernhart gets the fire going, he pauses, having heard something carried by the wind; any who strain to listen can hear unearthly wailing and agonized crying from far up the road. As they enjoy a simple supper, the group spies a handful of what appear to be zealots and flagellants, heading towards the town of Taalagad; the flagellants whip themselves, crying out to Sigmar to forgive the sins of man, and the zealots poke and prod them, screaming out into the darkness that all who carry the Pale Death will burn under the righteous flames of the eternal emperor of man, brandishing their torches as they do so. The zealots pause, spotting the campsite, but after a quick headcount simply move on, continuing to cry out to the world that Sigmar will purify and cleanse the wicked by fire. While the night goes on, the sentries on watch at the camp keep to the shadows, watching lone figures headed towards Taalagad, yelling out their prophecies and judgments about the sick and the twisted. Something seems to have happened in Taalagad, and the quiet of the night carries the voices of the zealous and the suffering quite well. Everyone but Olivid and Johann are at -5% on all attributes. Jakob and Aelphas fail another toughness test, and are at -15% on their toughness in total.
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Jan 12, 2016 05:33
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Olivid Ole Olivid sits by the fire, and stares into the flames, trying to ignore the cries in the distance. "I've no idea what this sickness is, but the cults are getting roused and there's some form of beastmen active in the area. I'd normally say we make for the nearest doctor, but I imagine letting the faithful know you're ill might be a bad move. You're sure you'll be allowed straight through to the city? It might be best to act healthy and head straight there rather than risk any more time outside the wall."
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Jan 12, 2016 18:04
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Johann A bit worried that he has attached himself to a plague caravan, Johann keeps himself separate when possible, though he is around the fire currently. "When did you all get sick? Has anyone died yet?" he asks, checking his weapons. The fanatics have left him edgy. More so than normal, at least. "I suspect I can get us here into the city if there are problems. Doubtful about the refugees, though. They may be stuck outside."
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Jan 13, 2016 04:08
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Snorri "That is their problem," Snorri replies gruffly. This illness on top of a lack of real combat had left the dwarf in a dangerously foul mood. "Besides, at least they can be thankful they won't be at the mercy of the wilds. If we can get in to the city and find a cure to this malady, I'm all for it. If we need to fight our way in, all the better."
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Jan 13, 2016 04:35
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Aelphas/The Watchman Aelphas shivers by the fire, completely surprised how he could be even sicker than the day before. "i swear when I get back into Talabheim I am never leaving the city again, because things like this happen." The elf snorts and spits some phlegm onto the fire and then continues, "Mark my words, if that bastard Hohenlohe cooks up some other reason to keep us out if the city, I will ruin him, even if it is the last thing I do, which at this rate it might be." Of course the blustering was in part for show. He was going to make Hohenlohe pay regardless. His real thoughts were toward what happens if he dies out here. His sister has enough smarts to run the legitimate side of the business, but Aelphas had kept her far enough from the criminal side that she wouldn't know what to do. None of his lieutenants were really savvy enough to run the whole operation. If Aelphas survived this, he'd have to start grooming some of them to eventually take over. Better make it some of the humans, that way Aelphas will outlive them, assuming his death was old age and not whatever sickness he had.
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Jan 13, 2016 05:05
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Bernhart of the Western Wind The priest shakes his head and lets out a hacking cough before addressing the Witch Hunter "We were all fine before we got to Brietblatt. At the time there was nothing out of the usual. One or two of the refugees got sick on the road but it wasn't spreading like wildfire like it is now." Bernhart takes some time in the morning before packing up camp to try and treat symptoms of the sick party members before moving out. -- Heal check to try and ease symptoms: 56 vs 46 failed unless you have a +10 modifier you can apply. DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 19:16 on Jan 13, 2016 |
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Jan 13, 2016 05:24
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"It's those drat children, running around wiping snot on everything," said Cavendish. "Anyone got any brandy? Can whip up an old elvish cold remedy we used to make back home."
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Jan 13, 2016 18:58
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Aelphas/The Watchman Aelphas laughs, then coughs, then cries from how hard the cough was, "Is that old elvish remedy just getting drunk? I have never been to the home country, Empire born and raised, so I always imagined those in the home land just getting hammered on good wine. Please don't correct me, if I'm going to die from this, I'd rather die with the image of drunk elves in my mind."
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Jan 14, 2016 07:05
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Olivid Ole "Always was with my family. Auntie Bee's home-distilled fruit-based liquor. Since leaving the wood the closest I've ever found is some cleaning fluid the war engineers use." Olivid looks up from the fire and around at the travelling party. "People in Breitblatt weren't sick. When I left the city a few weeks ago there weren't even rumours about disease in the graffiti on the walls."
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Jan 14, 2016 15:53
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Johann "Let's just get to the city," Johann grunts, lighting a pipe before settling in. Somewhat away from everyone else.
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Jan 15, 2016 21:51
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Old Man Wiprecht Old wizard lets out a phleghmy cough. "Oh great, war AND pestilence. The city will be a breeding ground of virulent diseases, surely. Whatwith all the sick refugees" sure, lets go to the city.
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Jan 15, 2016 22:11
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CHAPTER TWO: THE PORT AND THE PLAGUE[ Morning breaks, and the group enjoys another simple breakfast, before picking up and heading back on the road. It is a short distance back to Taalagad, but along the way, they notice still burning pyres and shrines out in the woods by the tendrils of smoke coming through the tops of the trees. Soon, they realize the unearthly wailing the night before was not the sound of beastmen or any sort of animal, but the cries of the sick and the dying. Moving through the streets back towards The Eel shows that the streets are all but abandoned, with the sound of deep, rattling coughs coming from all around. A weak looking old man, seated outside his home, looks up as the group passes, groaning as he lowers his chin back to his chest. The barkeep at the Eel looks up, the patrons of the tavern scattered away from one another, and the man shakes his head. "You're the lot Hohenlohe hired, eh? The magistrate's fled back into the city, but his lads are still holed up at the Muncipal Entry Office a block or two from the Wizard's Way." The barkeep stuffs a rag into a mug and cleans it, looking around the tavern. "Whole city's gone sick. Dead's manageable so far, but way things are goin', we're gonna have a lot of young'uns and a lot of old folk dead in the street before too long. Wizard Way's been sealed off; no one comin' or goin'. No boats are takin' anyone on, and there's nothin' for miles." He sets the mug down and sighs, rubbing his temples. "And then there's the bloody rats. No plague comes singly, I s'pose." After a minute, the man fills up the mug and begins setting out more. "Round's on the house, lads. Least you got some folks out of here before they could die in OUR streets, and that's worth a pint in my books." Everyone who is infected, save for Snorri, loses another 5% toughness for the new day. You are back in Taalagad and things look a little bleak. Time to come up with a plan.  Map at the bottom shows a portion of Taalagad as well as the majority of Talabheim. You have some options open to you; you can still get paid and maybe get your letters of entry from the clerks, though there is no telling if they'd be honored at this point. There is a local cult of Shallaya that is definitely going to be trying to give succor through the plague, as that's what they do, but beyond that, there are no obvious leads without asking around. Native Talabheimers may make a Common Knowledge test at -10 to think of any other options. You all earn 200 XP. 50 for getting the refugees to their town safely, 100 for defeating the ogres, and 50 for surviving so far.
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Jan 15, 2016 23:30
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| # ? Apr 25, 2024 05:16 |
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We can go to the priests and see if they can cure the sick people in the group. They're going to be very busy, though.
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Jan 15, 2016 23:33
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