Post by TheUdjat on May 11, 2009 9:02:01 GMT -5
SEA GREEN
(Rolling for Neg. Levels)
[It hasn’t been 24 hours, so you don’t have to worry about rolling. I wouldn’t advise waiting until you do, either.]
Finally with a moment’s rest, the group congregates in a common room at the center of their little suite of rooms, there to discuss plans and enjoy a more comfortable reunion. Henrick seems at least somewhat comforted by Natsumi’s words, but undoubtedly still harbors enmity for the cloud giant. In response to her admission that Amassu allowed her to look on them, he frowns. “He can look in on us? Any time he likes?” He does not seem pleased at all with this notion, but says nothing more on the matter.
The others summarize their dealings with the dwarves for Natsumi.
(Summary) [Pretty much. They had to sneak into the mountain in the middle of their big religious festival to fight the Master’s clerics/fighters (and save a whole mess of dwarves), found out another group of good hailing from Tertia took the bone that was there, and ultimately left. The dwarves reported that because of this attack, and urgings from the others that were there before, that they were headed off to war with what they called Deathspeakers and the Yexuhl (not sure if you got all of that, but you guys certainly should have). The dwarves can now be counted as allies but didn’t have the resources to offer anything at the time.
Those should be the major plot points.]
While they talk, Sean quietly excuses himself from the group, breaking open the book given to him by Caelith the Chaotic, able to see it once again. But he also consults his memory, trying to make sense of this dragon they fought, the Harbinger, using descriptions from the others to aid his hunt for legends and lore. [Various Knowledge Checks] [whisper=TheUdjat][Know (Bardic): 32, Know (Arcana): 35, Know (Religion): 28, Know (History): 27.][/whisper] Sean can indeed remember the name of the Harbinger from ancient tales and legends, and in some places has heard talk of such a dragon referenced in his studies of the arcane. The Harbinger is an ancient and feared evil from ages ago, ‘Death on Black Wings’, sometimes known as a god and others as a monster, and oft-times both. Stories of the Harbinger have strong associations with death and undeath, so a connection to the ‘Master’ and his forces is certainly plausible.
The dragon itself, spoken of in arcane circles, is rumored to be of a type unlike most of its kind. Black, but not dwelling in swamps nor looking quite like those lesser creatures, this dragon is instead composed of shadow and darkness. Such so-called ‘Shadow Dragons’ are naturally smaller than their other brethren, but far more deadly for their intelligence and associations with negative energy—as evidenced by the breath weapon, which Sean has experienced firsthand. It is not known where such creatures prefer to dwell, nor why they act as they do or how they originated, but they are known to be able to manipulate the shadows themselves, teleport short distances, and cast magic like other dragons.
While Sean pours through his notes and studies his book, the others discuss Scaland, their eventual destination when the matter of the dragon’s noxious breath has been settled. Wicksy and Natsumi bounce around the idea of disguises, posing as servants of the Master—certainly possible with a couple suits of full plate of the kind the clerics favor, hiding all of one’s features. Henrick looks at his own platemail, taken from such a foe, though he has done his best to conceal their wicked symbol with a plain white tabard, and does not wear the helm except in a pitched fight. “That is certainly an option,” he concedes. “Though we will need more suits for all of us to do this, and an armorer to fit them. And I have yet to see one of the Master’s clerics that is Ella’s size.”
But Ella does not seem as favorable to the plan, pointing out that the lizards may very well be at war with the Master’s clerics, putting them on the wrong side of a potential conflict—perhaps plans for a disguise should wait until they know more.
Eventually, the group grows weary of discussion, more than eager for a night of rest after the day’s trials. In the morning, Madrigal has some breakfast sent over, and then meets with the companions some time later to bring them before the council, bright and early. He’s dressed in his usual gear, but perhaps a bit less weathered, anticipating the audience with the council. “Are you all ready?” If everyone is, Madrigal nods and quickly escorts you on the familiar walk to the council, a place you were not too long ago, under far more tense conditions.
Today, the council’s audience chamber is not the empty place with only five angry council members as it was then—rather, it is a bustling place of activity where citizens of all races come to voice their grievances, submit their petitions, and request boons. The chamber isn’t exactly full, but even at half-capacity it is a boisterous and active place, but as well-ordered as such a place can be.
When Madrigal enters with you and the matter-at-hand is dealt with—a request for more help with repairs from the siege—the council grants you immediate audience ahead of any others, no doubt saving hours of lengthy waiting. The elven woman on the council speaks to your case first. “Welcome again, heroes,” she says, unabashed in giving the title. “We are pleased to have you in our city again, though Madrigal has briefed us as to your reasons for coming, and explained that this is no mere visitation.”
The human male nods, and continues for the council. “We have prepared a writ for your use in the city’s temples—all will honor it, so you may take it to the servants of whichever deity you favor. These are difficult times for such things, as you certainly know, but the Gathered Nations does not forget debts it owes, nor those that have done it a great service, and you are both.” He hands a scroll from his place on the bench to a half-giant guard standing idly nearby, who quickly moves to give you the writ. As promised, it bears the seal of the council and instructs those reading it to honor the requests of the bearers for curative aid. It is a fairly nebulous statement—certainly the council is trusting you to specify your needs, not knowing the details of the malady.
When this is done, the human female speaks. “Is there any other business you would bring before us, or requests you would ask of us? We are ready to listen.”
[Ask away or depart to find a temple. You can specify anything else to be done in the city—such as picking up a new riding dog for Ella. I know a few of you still have considerable money on hand, so purchases can be made.]
(Character Status)
Ella – 77/77 HP, 5 Neg. Levels [Temp HP: 52/52]
Sean – 47/47 HP, 5 Neg. Levels [Temp HP 22/22]
Gro-bug – 100/100 HP, 5 Neg. Levels [Temp HP: 75/75]
Henrick – 70/70 HP, 5 Neg. Levels [Temp HP: 45/45]
Antyca – 2 Neg. Levels
Natsumi – 52/52 HP
Negative Levels:
Sean, Ella, Gro-bug, and Henrick all suffer -5 on all skill checks, ability checks, attack rolls, and saving throws, and -25 to HP. The HP amounts have been reflected above.
DARK RED
Gildas-
The clerk breathes out in exasperation. “Great gods, you really are from out of town, aren’t you?” She closes her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before she continues. “Okay. Please, listen carefully, sir. You are at the University right now, do you understand? At the University, we can only tend to University business, like scheduling a meet with the Dean, signing up for classes, or acquiring a library pass. What you’re looking for is the city council, which deals with matters like visiting dignitaries, paying the city guard, signing treaties and other international and governing business.” She pauses, perhaps for emphasis. “I cannot bring you before the council. Understand?”
Lockheart clears his throat at this point, still hiding a smile. “What she’s trying to say, Gildas, is that the council building’s across the city and we have to go there and speak to those people to get an audience with them.”
“Yes!” the woman cries, practically throwing her hands into the air.
“Frustrating, I know,” Lockheart says, more quietly. “Don’t you just love bureaucracy? This is why I left the place.”
The clerk quickly sorts through some drawers until she finds a map, laying it out on the counter with impressive haste. “Here, see, is a map of the city. You’re here,” she points. “You want to go here.” Point. “And this is the best route to take. You should get going quickly if you want to get on the day’s business. Audiences and meetings fill up quickly, dignitary or no.” The woman seems very eager to be rid of Gildas and Lockheart.
Lenny, Wystfalrun, Norven-
Hallen watches the conversation, clearly feeling out of the loop. “Now listen,” he says. “I don’t know anything about questioning and murdering and revenge and all that, you just let that be your business. I’ll pretend I never heard about any of it. War out on the battlefield is one thing, but this isn’t my sort of talk.”
Norven and Lenny continue to talk, and it appears resolved that the stranger will tag along with the Tertians, in hopes for an opportunity to exact revenge. Given their propensity for running afoul of Deathspeakers, Lenny and Tyrano have no doubt the man will find his opportunity sooner rather than later. Amusing, in a way, that this man struggles so hard to find them and cannot while the Tertians are eager to be rid of them, but crash into them at every turn.
Lenny returns to the dwarf and his knowledge of history and lore surrounding Garor Skullsplitter.
Hallen shrugs. “The museum curator, no doubt. Studying this time period is his life’s work, you know, so certainly he knows it better than anyone. But he’s been hard to find of late—meetings with the council or some such, can’t say as I know all the details. You might try asking the front office to arrange a meeting, but I can tell you that can take days sometimes. Always with the damn schedules. Might be better off hoping to bump into him going to and fro, catch him coming out of a meeting or heading home for the night. He stays on the grounds, after all, like most of the faculty.”
“Or you could go to the council. I don’t know what dealing with those folks is like. Could be just as bad as the quill-pushers around here.”
(Character Status)
Gildas – 69/69 HP
Lenny – 61/61 HP
Wystfalrun – 62/62 HP
Norven – 71/71 HP
Lockheart – No damage
Wanderer – 90/90 HP [Absent]
(Rolling for Neg. Levels)
{from an OOC perspective how do you want to handle rolling for neg levels? If we can cure some of them on our own, it will not be such a burden on local resources.}
Finally with a moment’s rest, the group congregates in a common room at the center of their little suite of rooms, there to discuss plans and enjoy a more comfortable reunion. Henrick seems at least somewhat comforted by Natsumi’s words, but undoubtedly still harbors enmity for the cloud giant. In response to her admission that Amassu allowed her to look on them, he frowns. “He can look in on us? Any time he likes?” He does not seem pleased at all with this notion, but says nothing more on the matter.
The others summarize their dealings with the dwarves for Natsumi.
(Summary)
-go to mountain
-fight with some clerics of the Master
-find out that our bone is in another castle, Mario
-something about an army of undead
-fly away
-fight with some clerics of the Master
-find out that our bone is in another castle, Mario
-something about an army of undead
-fly away
Those should be the major plot points.]
While they talk, Sean quietly excuses himself from the group, breaking open the book given to him by Caelith the Chaotic, able to see it once again. But he also consults his memory, trying to make sense of this dragon they fought, the Harbinger, using descriptions from the others to aid his hunt for legends and lore. [Various Knowledge Checks] [whisper=TheUdjat][Know (Bardic): 32, Know (Arcana): 35, Know (Religion): 28, Know (History): 27.][/whisper] Sean can indeed remember the name of the Harbinger from ancient tales and legends, and in some places has heard talk of such a dragon referenced in his studies of the arcane. The Harbinger is an ancient and feared evil from ages ago, ‘Death on Black Wings’, sometimes known as a god and others as a monster, and oft-times both. Stories of the Harbinger have strong associations with death and undeath, so a connection to the ‘Master’ and his forces is certainly plausible.
The dragon itself, spoken of in arcane circles, is rumored to be of a type unlike most of its kind. Black, but not dwelling in swamps nor looking quite like those lesser creatures, this dragon is instead composed of shadow and darkness. Such so-called ‘Shadow Dragons’ are naturally smaller than their other brethren, but far more deadly for their intelligence and associations with negative energy—as evidenced by the breath weapon, which Sean has experienced firsthand. It is not known where such creatures prefer to dwell, nor why they act as they do or how they originated, but they are known to be able to manipulate the shadows themselves, teleport short distances, and cast magic like other dragons.
While Sean pours through his notes and studies his book, the others discuss Scaland, their eventual destination when the matter of the dragon’s noxious breath has been settled. Wicksy and Natsumi bounce around the idea of disguises, posing as servants of the Master—certainly possible with a couple suits of full plate of the kind the clerics favor, hiding all of one’s features. Henrick looks at his own platemail, taken from such a foe, though he has done his best to conceal their wicked symbol with a plain white tabard, and does not wear the helm except in a pitched fight. “That is certainly an option,” he concedes. “Though we will need more suits for all of us to do this, and an armorer to fit them. And I have yet to see one of the Master’s clerics that is Ella’s size.”
But Ella does not seem as favorable to the plan, pointing out that the lizards may very well be at war with the Master’s clerics, putting them on the wrong side of a potential conflict—perhaps plans for a disguise should wait until they know more.
Eventually, the group grows weary of discussion, more than eager for a night of rest after the day’s trials. In the morning, Madrigal has some breakfast sent over, and then meets with the companions some time later to bring them before the council, bright and early. He’s dressed in his usual gear, but perhaps a bit less weathered, anticipating the audience with the council. “Are you all ready?” If everyone is, Madrigal nods and quickly escorts you on the familiar walk to the council, a place you were not too long ago, under far more tense conditions.
Today, the council’s audience chamber is not the empty place with only five angry council members as it was then—rather, it is a bustling place of activity where citizens of all races come to voice their grievances, submit their petitions, and request boons. The chamber isn’t exactly full, but even at half-capacity it is a boisterous and active place, but as well-ordered as such a place can be.
When Madrigal enters with you and the matter-at-hand is dealt with—a request for more help with repairs from the siege—the council grants you immediate audience ahead of any others, no doubt saving hours of lengthy waiting. The elven woman on the council speaks to your case first. “Welcome again, heroes,” she says, unabashed in giving the title. “We are pleased to have you in our city again, though Madrigal has briefed us as to your reasons for coming, and explained that this is no mere visitation.”
The human male nods, and continues for the council. “We have prepared a writ for your use in the city’s temples—all will honor it, so you may take it to the servants of whichever deity you favor. These are difficult times for such things, as you certainly know, but the Gathered Nations does not forget debts it owes, nor those that have done it a great service, and you are both.” He hands a scroll from his place on the bench to a half-giant guard standing idly nearby, who quickly moves to give you the writ. As promised, it bears the seal of the council and instructs those reading it to honor the requests of the bearers for curative aid. It is a fairly nebulous statement—certainly the council is trusting you to specify your needs, not knowing the details of the malady.
When this is done, the human female speaks. “Is there any other business you would bring before us, or requests you would ask of us? We are ready to listen.”
[Ask away or depart to find a temple. You can specify anything else to be done in the city—such as picking up a new riding dog for Ella. I know a few of you still have considerable money on hand, so purchases can be made.]
(Character Status)
Ella – 77/77 HP, 5 Neg. Levels [Temp HP: 52/52]
Sean – 47/47 HP, 5 Neg. Levels [Temp HP 22/22]
Gro-bug – 100/100 HP, 5 Neg. Levels [Temp HP: 75/75]
Henrick – 70/70 HP, 5 Neg. Levels [Temp HP: 45/45]
Antyca – 2 Neg. Levels
Natsumi – 52/52 HP
Negative Levels:
A creature takes the following penalties for each negative level it has gained.
–1 on all skill checks and ability checks.
–1 on attack rolls and saving throws.
–5 hit points.
–1 effective level (whenever the creature’s level is used in a die roll or calculation, reduce it by one for each negative level).
If the victim casts spells, she loses access to one spell as if she had cast her highest-level, currently available spell. (If she has more than one spell at her highest level, she chooses which she loses.) In addition, when she next prepares spells or regains spell slots, she gets one less spell slot at her highest spell level.
Negative levels remain for 24 hours or until removed with a spell, such as restoration. After 24 hours, the afflicted creature must attempt a Fortitude save (DC 10 + 1/2 attacker’s HD + attacker’s Cha modifier). (The DC is provided in the attacker’s description.) If the saving throw succeeds, the negative level goes away with no harm to the creature. The afflicted creature makes a separate saving throw for each negative level it has gained. If the save fails, the negative level goes away, but the creature’s level is also reduced by one.
A character with negative levels at least equal to her current level, or drained below 1st level, is instantly slain. Depending on the creature that killed her, she may rise the next night as a monster of that kind. If not, she rises as a wight. A creature gains 5 temporary hit points for each negative level it bestows (though not if the negative level is caused by a spell or similar effect).
–1 on all skill checks and ability checks.
–1 on attack rolls and saving throws.
–5 hit points.
–1 effective level (whenever the creature’s level is used in a die roll or calculation, reduce it by one for each negative level).
If the victim casts spells, she loses access to one spell as if she had cast her highest-level, currently available spell. (If she has more than one spell at her highest level, she chooses which she loses.) In addition, when she next prepares spells or regains spell slots, she gets one less spell slot at her highest spell level.
Negative levels remain for 24 hours or until removed with a spell, such as restoration. After 24 hours, the afflicted creature must attempt a Fortitude save (DC 10 + 1/2 attacker’s HD + attacker’s Cha modifier). (The DC is provided in the attacker’s description.) If the saving throw succeeds, the negative level goes away with no harm to the creature. The afflicted creature makes a separate saving throw for each negative level it has gained. If the save fails, the negative level goes away, but the creature’s level is also reduced by one.
A character with negative levels at least equal to her current level, or drained below 1st level, is instantly slain. Depending on the creature that killed her, she may rise the next night as a monster of that kind. If not, she rises as a wight. A creature gains 5 temporary hit points for each negative level it bestows (though not if the negative level is caused by a spell or similar effect).
Sean, Ella, Gro-bug, and Henrick all suffer -5 on all skill checks, ability checks, attack rolls, and saving throws, and -25 to HP. The HP amounts have been reflected above.
DARK RED
Gildas-
"Bring me before your council then. They may not yet know of our visit, but this is a matter of great urgence and I cannot waste time on lines and schedules like this."
The clerk breathes out in exasperation. “Great gods, you really are from out of town, aren’t you?” She closes her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before she continues. “Okay. Please, listen carefully, sir. You are at the University right now, do you understand? At the University, we can only tend to University business, like scheduling a meet with the Dean, signing up for classes, or acquiring a library pass. What you’re looking for is the city council, which deals with matters like visiting dignitaries, paying the city guard, signing treaties and other international and governing business.” She pauses, perhaps for emphasis. “I cannot bring you before the council. Understand?”
Lockheart clears his throat at this point, still hiding a smile. “What she’s trying to say, Gildas, is that the council building’s across the city and we have to go there and speak to those people to get an audience with them.”
“Yes!” the woman cries, practically throwing her hands into the air.
“Frustrating, I know,” Lockheart says, more quietly. “Don’t you just love bureaucracy? This is why I left the place.”
The clerk quickly sorts through some drawers until she finds a map, laying it out on the counter with impressive haste. “Here, see, is a map of the city. You’re here,” she points. “You want to go here.” Point. “And this is the best route to take. You should get going quickly if you want to get on the day’s business. Audiences and meetings fill up quickly, dignitary or no.” The woman seems very eager to be rid of Gildas and Lockheart.
Lenny, Wystfalrun, Norven-
Hallen watches the conversation, clearly feeling out of the loop. “Now listen,” he says. “I don’t know anything about questioning and murdering and revenge and all that, you just let that be your business. I’ll pretend I never heard about any of it. War out on the battlefield is one thing, but this isn’t my sort of talk.”
Norven and Lenny continue to talk, and it appears resolved that the stranger will tag along with the Tertians, in hopes for an opportunity to exact revenge. Given their propensity for running afoul of Deathspeakers, Lenny and Tyrano have no doubt the man will find his opportunity sooner rather than later. Amusing, in a way, that this man struggles so hard to find them and cannot while the Tertians are eager to be rid of them, but crash into them at every turn.
Lenny returns to the dwarf and his knowledge of history and lore surrounding Garor Skullsplitter.
"Harlen, is there any person that would know more of this 'Master' or of this battle against the undead? Books are good and all, but I fear that pouring through them all would only use up precious time we don't have the luxury of."
Hallen shrugs. “The museum curator, no doubt. Studying this time period is his life’s work, you know, so certainly he knows it better than anyone. But he’s been hard to find of late—meetings with the council or some such, can’t say as I know all the details. You might try asking the front office to arrange a meeting, but I can tell you that can take days sometimes. Always with the damn schedules. Might be better off hoping to bump into him going to and fro, catch him coming out of a meeting or heading home for the night. He stays on the grounds, after all, like most of the faculty.”
“Or you could go to the council. I don’t know what dealing with those folks is like. Could be just as bad as the quill-pushers around here.”
(Character Status)
Gildas – 69/69 HP
Lenny – 61/61 HP
Wystfalrun – 62/62 HP
Norven – 71/71 HP
Lockheart – No damage
Wanderer – 90/90 HP [Absent]
]
