Post by K Man on Aug 25, 2004 10:53:01 GMT -5
{Can I just take a moment to say..."I LOVE THIS CAMPAIGN!" Man, it's so much fun for me as a DM to run. Thanks yet again to everyone playing. You all role-play so well.}
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Garor, Newt, Hero, Callian, Caelith and Angelus -
{Hero, your sense for evil picks up nothing. Camir, Theld...the machine and all near are clear.}
{Garor, you think back to your childhood. [WIS Check] You do recall a younger, somewhat caustic dwarf that was exiled from the mines within the mountain for theft of the metals he mined. He claimed they were being used for science, not building. Infuriated, the king had him exiled and never to return. His name was Theld.}
Master Theld seems impossibly more bothered by your presence. Especially by the one crawling all over his machine and asking inane questions.
"The machine is this juggernaut here behind me."
Theld points to the massive stack of gear and cogs complied into a machine.
"The 'things' that were stolen were nothing of importance, outside the function of the machine that is. They were three cogs..."
"Would you get back over here, those are personal!"
Theld snaps his fingers as he would for a dog. He rubs his temples as the questions continue to fly.
"Three cogs. Each about the size of a hand spread outward. They are made of a special alloy, weighing little more than a pound a piece. Anyone could have taken them."
"I took the issue of security very light for who would want to sabotage my work? This machine and its benefit will help the Blackwing Kindgom transport troops, supplies and weapons nearly instantly. It will be free to use, cheap to operate and does no one harm."
"This is why this theft boggles me."
Looking to Artemis, Theld responds.
"But of course...you can pour over my work, record my spells and trade information."
"...Only if I were mad would I allow that."
"I'm sorry ambassador, you will have to offer me more than that for my spells."
Theld can be quite...brutish in his words. The dwarf goes about collecting the scattered pieces and does little beyond grunt more responses. He does motion with a finger to the place there the cogs have gone missing from.
{I have Caelith searching the perimeter and everyone else...?}
[Caelith, search check.] Heading towards a darker section of the house, you spot light pouring in from an unnatural hole. There, in the corner of a rather shoddily built wall, you see that several boards have been pried out and quickly placed back. There are some light scratches on the boards, from amateur rogue skills and hanging limply from a sharp corner of the boards is a small sample of green cloth...like from a tunic.
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Krysta, Girud and Galdren - Moving along, you all take positons around the elves as the warriors get underneath the stretcher and heave it into the air. The crystal shudders slightly, rocked by the movement. Irinys moves forward, waving his hand over his shoulder, motioning for all to follow.
As one group, you leave the cave and head out into the bright afternoon light.
The trail travels slowly. Often times you must stop and the guards must again touch the crystal for the strength to carry it. Mordrock leads the way, humming slighty and weaving through the fauna. More than you want to, you can hear the pathetic goblin mutter about the lusty desires he feels for Krysta.
This goes on for the remainder of the afternoon, into the night as the sun sets, cooling the earth. Despite your anxiety, little has crossed your paths to make you draw your sword aside from the plant life in the way.
You hear a collective sigh of relief as you reach the river edge with little to no trouble. Mordrock motions for you all to stop as he scans the embankment for any signs. He comes trotting back a moment later, his face soured.
"Boats all there. Five in all. But ten orcs and five goblins have made camp here."
"Excellent work goblin."
"Anyone volunteer to take them out? We need those boats..."
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Yuri, Romar and Sehanine - You watch with horror as the animated orcs stumble towards you.
Yuri's tattoo peels itself from his skin, leaping across the glade. {Attack Roll = 18} It strikes the wounded undead, {Damage Roll = 3} doing little to slow the advancement of the undead.
Undead Orc 1 is wounded.
Romar, slightly quicker than the dwarves, holds his arror knocked, waiting to see what the three clerics do. {Delay Action.}
The three clerics simultaneously chant the same thing and weave the same patterns in the air. They weave letters and symbols of fire that hang in the air as though written by the elements themselves.
[Flame Strike X3]
As if the gods themselves finally took notice of the artocities taking place on this plane, three columns of fire errupt like volcanoes of pain. They envelop all five of the orcs in a hot cylinder of ash and sparks.
[Reflex Save, 3 successes]
Although not entirely comsumed by flames, all the undead are struck by them. {Damage Rolls = 41, 25, 19} The undead can do little to avoid being burned to a second death.
Undead Orcs 1, 2, 3 and 4 are dead. 5 is near death again.
As the ashes of the burned and flaming trees rains down, Romar looses his arrow at the only standing undead. {Attack Roll = 18. Damage Roll = 8} The arrow flies directly into the chest, flinging the undead horror to the ground with feet protruding upwards at a comical angle.
{Yuri, I'm not sure how to rule this, but I think your tattoo is toast.
}
Two of the dwarves reflexively move to the burned area, ensuring their spells were lethal. The remaing dwarf turns and looks you all over.
"Sorry if you got a little singed lassy, but we take no chances with the undead. Most of our profession would turn or repel them...but we feel that a more...agressive approach in necessary."
"I'm Marg, Marg Rockhammer."
The dwarf extends a solid hand forward in friendship.
"It's a good thing ye got the drop on them, otherwise we could never have gotten our spells off."
"It be best if we get moving, surely those flames will alert more to our presence and we cannot do that again."
"Perhaps we could travel together? I could use some new faces to talk to and we can discuss our destinations? Perhaps they are the same?"
Marg waits for a response while his companions gather the camp supplies.
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Garor, Newt, Hero, Callian, Caelith and Angelus -
{Hero, your sense for evil picks up nothing. Camir, Theld...the machine and all near are clear.}
{Garor, you think back to your childhood. [WIS Check] You do recall a younger, somewhat caustic dwarf that was exiled from the mines within the mountain for theft of the metals he mined. He claimed they were being used for science, not building. Infuriated, the king had him exiled and never to return. His name was Theld.}
Master Theld seems impossibly more bothered by your presence. Especially by the one crawling all over his machine and asking inane questions.
"The machine is this juggernaut here behind me."
Theld points to the massive stack of gear and cogs complied into a machine.
"The 'things' that were stolen were nothing of importance, outside the function of the machine that is. They were three cogs..."
"Would you get back over here, those are personal!"
Theld snaps his fingers as he would for a dog. He rubs his temples as the questions continue to fly.
"Three cogs. Each about the size of a hand spread outward. They are made of a special alloy, weighing little more than a pound a piece. Anyone could have taken them."
"I took the issue of security very light for who would want to sabotage my work? This machine and its benefit will help the Blackwing Kindgom transport troops, supplies and weapons nearly instantly. It will be free to use, cheap to operate and does no one harm."
"This is why this theft boggles me."
Looking to Artemis, Theld responds.
"But of course...you can pour over my work, record my spells and trade information."
"...Only if I were mad would I allow that."
"I'm sorry ambassador, you will have to offer me more than that for my spells."
Theld can be quite...brutish in his words. The dwarf goes about collecting the scattered pieces and does little beyond grunt more responses. He does motion with a finger to the place there the cogs have gone missing from.
{I have Caelith searching the perimeter and everyone else...?}
[Caelith, search check.] Heading towards a darker section of the house, you spot light pouring in from an unnatural hole. There, in the corner of a rather shoddily built wall, you see that several boards have been pried out and quickly placed back. There are some light scratches on the boards, from amateur rogue skills and hanging limply from a sharp corner of the boards is a small sample of green cloth...like from a tunic.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Krysta, Girud and Galdren - Moving along, you all take positons around the elves as the warriors get underneath the stretcher and heave it into the air. The crystal shudders slightly, rocked by the movement. Irinys moves forward, waving his hand over his shoulder, motioning for all to follow.
As one group, you leave the cave and head out into the bright afternoon light.
The trail travels slowly. Often times you must stop and the guards must again touch the crystal for the strength to carry it. Mordrock leads the way, humming slighty and weaving through the fauna. More than you want to, you can hear the pathetic goblin mutter about the lusty desires he feels for Krysta.
This goes on for the remainder of the afternoon, into the night as the sun sets, cooling the earth. Despite your anxiety, little has crossed your paths to make you draw your sword aside from the plant life in the way.
You hear a collective sigh of relief as you reach the river edge with little to no trouble. Mordrock motions for you all to stop as he scans the embankment for any signs. He comes trotting back a moment later, his face soured.
"Boats all there. Five in all. But ten orcs and five goblins have made camp here."
"Excellent work goblin."
"Anyone volunteer to take them out? We need those boats..."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yuri, Romar and Sehanine - You watch with horror as the animated orcs stumble towards you.
Yuri's tattoo peels itself from his skin, leaping across the glade. {Attack Roll = 18} It strikes the wounded undead, {Damage Roll = 3} doing little to slow the advancement of the undead.
Undead Orc 1 is wounded.
Romar, slightly quicker than the dwarves, holds his arror knocked, waiting to see what the three clerics do. {Delay Action.}
The three clerics simultaneously chant the same thing and weave the same patterns in the air. They weave letters and symbols of fire that hang in the air as though written by the elements themselves.
[Flame Strike X3]
As if the gods themselves finally took notice of the artocities taking place on this plane, three columns of fire errupt like volcanoes of pain. They envelop all five of the orcs in a hot cylinder of ash and sparks.
[Reflex Save, 3 successes]
Although not entirely comsumed by flames, all the undead are struck by them. {Damage Rolls = 41, 25, 19} The undead can do little to avoid being burned to a second death.
Undead Orcs 1, 2, 3 and 4 are dead. 5 is near death again.
As the ashes of the burned and flaming trees rains down, Romar looses his arrow at the only standing undead. {Attack Roll = 18. Damage Roll = 8} The arrow flies directly into the chest, flinging the undead horror to the ground with feet protruding upwards at a comical angle.
{Yuri, I'm not sure how to rule this, but I think your tattoo is toast.
}Two of the dwarves reflexively move to the burned area, ensuring their spells were lethal. The remaing dwarf turns and looks you all over.
"Sorry if you got a little singed lassy, but we take no chances with the undead. Most of our profession would turn or repel them...but we feel that a more...agressive approach in necessary."
"I'm Marg, Marg Rockhammer."
The dwarf extends a solid hand forward in friendship.
"It's a good thing ye got the drop on them, otherwise we could never have gotten our spells off."
"It be best if we get moving, surely those flames will alert more to our presence and we cannot do that again."
"Perhaps we could travel together? I could use some new faces to talk to and we can discuss our destinations? Perhaps they are the same?"
Marg waits for a response while his companions gather the camp supplies.
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)
