Among the Rough - Waiting Room

I'm proposing a scenario that allows us to do something other than sit around in a tavern, while we wait to be introduced into the game proper.

BelGareth's initial thread referenced that a horde of humanoids were laying seige to "Starlit halls of the Thuendweir dwarves". I'm going to propose that we be a group of reinforcements paying off an old debt to the dwarves (or hoping to be paid by them, if you'd rather) by coming to their aid. Hobgoblin sorcerers have made teleportation and flight into the Starlit Halls treacherous, and there's an army on the surface between us and the dwarves. So the group of us are sneaking in through a seriees of monster-filled passages in something that is most definitely not a ripoff of the Underdark.

I figure that this scenario lets us chat when we want to chat, and if any of us want to invent monsters for us to fight along the way, they're free to do so.

And...if you hate this idea, say so and we do something different! :smallwink:

Yalla and Mahmoud

It had been two days since this odd group had banded together for companionship and protection as they carefully descended into the stuffy, damp and insanely dangerous passages and caverns the Night Realm. After a sharp descent that lasted a day, the tunnels more or less evened out, and the group had made reasonable progress toward the Starlit Halls.

The mother and son team had proved amiable enough travelling companions. Yalla, the mother, was as cheerful and gregarious as her son was brooding and withdrawn. Her magics had helped to protect the group in a dozen scuffles so far.

Now, as the group passed through a veritable forest of oversized mushrooms, the odd couple slipped side by side through the rough terrain. As was their habit throughout this trip, neither stayed in their natural forms. Mahmoud was a tall but gangly man, and who would be afraid of the grandmotherly Yalla? But here, in the dangers of the Night Realm, they became a hulking toll and an elegant angel, plowing through or drifting over problems as they emerged.

Yalla glanced over at their companions with a new but genuine fondness.

"Anyone feel like mushroom steaks for lunch?"

The metallic dragonborn doesn't turn from his guard position when he answers, "None for me, thank you, unless there are scraps after the lot of you eat." He has yet to do otherwise during this foray into dangerous territory. And he has made sure no scraps have been left over to assist any enemy followers in finding them. His body, currently composed of matte black adamantine, sports numerous patches of slightly shiny cuts and scratches. The only evidence of injuries taken repaired nearly as quickly as the damage was done, he appears entirely unaffected by them.
"If you'll hand me your canteens, I will fill them for you."

https://pasteall.org/media/3/c/3c993...031d5aa90b.jpg Nisha Zhao

Nisha was far from home. So very far from home.

When she had set out West from her magocratic society, she had done so with the purpose of opening new markets, gathering new lore and creating trade channels back to her home nation. As the youngest ever recipient of the dark robes of the Black Wizards of Kul Turas, Nisha was uniquely suited to carry the authority of her homeland and represent her elite circle in its dealings abroad. Thus, when the stunted, ugly-folk of the Thuendweir Dwarves required assistance in protecting their homeland, Nisha Zhao had seen it as an opportunity to make friends and create economic inroads.

"None for me, thank you," she politely declined the dragon-things offer. The ring around her left pinky provided her physical form with all the sustenance it needed through the various spells woven into its design.

"But! Some taste is always appreciated..."

The wizard drew up a finely made leather satchel, opened its top and reached inside to produce a bottle of aged, white wine and several glasses.

As a show of manners, she gestured an offer to the dragon-thing and the mother and son duo, pouring them a glass if they so desired, before attending to her own.

Reclining on her chair - which she had doubtless produced via magical means - the wizard's figure was hugged by a beautifully woven black regalia with silver trimmings. Her jet black hair was drawn back and styled, while the gentle angles of her eyelids were coloured with a rosey application that accentuated her exotic features. Well, exotic to these lands anywhere. To Nisha, everything in this region was strange and foreign.

"I would not have taken the dwarves to be incapable of resisting hobgoblins on their own..." Nisha floated the idea, her voice both accented and smooth.

Yalla and Mahmoud

Mahmoud pauses to pull out a knife - looking childishly small in his troll-hands - and slips among the mushrooms to look for especially delectable and non-poisonous options for supper. Yalla gratefully passes a pair of waterskins from her pack to Phideaux.

"I don't think that we're likely to be short on options for supper. And thank you for the water."

She sees Nisha settle in her chair and nods agreeably - this space seems as good as any to rest in for a brief spell. She shakes her head slightly when Nisha offers wine.

"You're most kind, but we do not partake of alcohol. But if anyone has thought to pack percolator, I am very much regretting not bringing our coffee from home."

The angel's smooth dark-chocolate features melt into a wistful frown for a moment.

"I've also found the dwarves of Thuendweir to be immensely capable and self-reliant, so if they're calling on the likes of us, they must be hard pressed. Perhaps the horde has fiendish support? Perhaps it's simply a numbers game.

"It's been a long while since I've been involved in anything like this kind of mass battle, and Mahmoud has never faced a horde like this."

Mahmoud's head pops up from the fungal forest nearby. The whine of an embarrassed child conveys just fine, even from the raspy voice box of a troll.

"Mom! Don't tell them that!"

Yalla smiles.

"I meant, by bringing this up, to ask if any of you have pointers for surviving, and contributing to, such an effort."

Spoiler: some notes

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You picked two very awesome nations to get in between, and i love it.

so a few things:

The hobgoblins of the Rising Star Nation are incredibly formal, and elite. They maintain one of the most capable armies on the plateau, and boast a litany of victories as evidence to their prowess. Their armies are road builders, fort makers, and most of all, citizen soldiers, honor is the prime resource in this society.

Which means something incredibly wrong has happened, or a matter of honor has been broached for a mercenary band (for that is what they must be) to be involved in The Hordes attack upon the Thuendweir dwarves.

(Think Japanese roman legionnaires)

Similarly, the Dwarves have long held a truce with the Star Nation, and hold to similar belief in honor, as they worship, and revere their forefathers and ancestors, the two cultures are incredibly similar, so anything that violates this ancient accord is a threat to the peace that has held for generations of both nations.

The Dwarves utilize their ancestors to field massive weapons of war, and are, as you have noted, incredibly capable of defending themselves, something is, very off in this situation.

(Think Russian Incarnum engineers, who pilot mechs powered by their ancestors spirits)

the Horde however? well, that is a new development, and not many are really sure what is going on, or what they are.

Mahmoud moves around to gather mushrooms, he rounds a corner of a particularly large cap, and almost walks straight into something! Looking up, he sees what seems to be a mechanical beast, metal, wood, rivets, and gears. Not to dissimilar to Phideaux, but this is much larger, squat, heavily built, and the front portion seems to be open, as if someone could climb in and out of it. It is currently motionless, standing still, it's canopy open, and empty, you can hear some whirring inside, and a muted soft glow of something highlights a leather bound seat for the pilot.

Phideaux speaks as he fills the waterskins, "Accountability to the group is among my highest priorities in situations like this. And that means several things. First and foremost, we must always know where each other is. This is to prevent harm by accident as well as enabling the rest of the group to provide help should trouble rear it's head. The second part of group accountability is to make sure we all know how each of us fight. This is to prevent misunderstandings. In a life or death situation, a simple misunderstanding can cost a group far too much."

He hands the waterskins back to Yalla. "As an example, if you were to see me get tossed into a deep, dark body of water, your initial concern is likely to trend toward rescuing me from a watery demise. That could well take your attention away from whatever knocked me in there in the first place." He turns to watch Mahmoud, "Instead, focus on the threat at hand. I am, despite my appearance to the contrary, extremely well suited for aquatic environments. So much so that I could fill these tunnels with water and explore them with the greatest ease."

White Shell makes his way back from slightly ahead as the group walked when he here's the call of food. While by all means a poor scout, one is often slightly better than none. Indeed, he's been an invisible insect, the sort that'd be a quick snack for most under-dark denizens as he looks but a short distance ahead of the main group. It's with a slight glow he returns to visibility, and then his own form, the large white painted Diopsid shimmering in the light.

"We're it that we all could. It might make for an interesting swim. Fortunately it's hard for an extended stretch of tunnel to become water filled. It's just a shame we lack a scout who knows the local area, travelling by shadow would be quicker even if it raises the risk of meeting a dragon."
Confident words in a friendly from White, who looking to Phideaux sounds like he's trying to one up the Warforged, clearly treating the excursion somewhat as a game. Instead of doing this for some greater good or favours, he instead is here to calm the dwarves, having recently claimed a citadel they abandoned (More a forward fort on their scale).

But then he turns his eyes to Mahmoud. The beady things somewhat smaller and duller than a normal Diopsid, it was still disconcerting since it made his head about three times wider than most humanoids.
"But he's right. When walking into danger one needs to trust their comrades, and that means knowing. Which is why I warned you clearly when I told you I had access to magical shapeshifting and used it, before telling you what I'd often be."
His description of a Giant Ormyrr, a semi-aquatic slug-centaur like beast the size of a small house was not fun, even if his voice was magically enhanced at the time. The idea of it riding a great Roc while a bellowing troll assisted him was equally unpleasant.

Then he shrugs.
"For hordes, the most important thing is assessment, of the terrain, how organised, and how skilled the individuals are. A unified Mob or group of trained men is still dangerous even if the individuals are weak. If it's more than 10, particularly around 20, their coordination matters most, and the first matter is finding somewhere we can fight that can break their coordination, or find a choke point to put our skill to the test in an endurance format. Less, it depends more on their skill. A handful of umberhulks is a nuisance given our skills. A pair of dragons of reasonable size is a pair of dragons worth talking to very carefully."

Switching his glance to between Nisha and Yalla with a few shakes of his head, he speaks confidently.
"First, we try to take a few moments to assess them, either fighting defensively or from stealth, and we take the time to see what terrain we can think. If it comes to a fight, from what I remember of your abilities, you three should be a back line, and your job then is simple. Break cohesion. Area magics, mass dissuasion, or even effects such as fireballs, that's what's needed. Or in Nisha's case, a few warm bodies should Phideaux and I need a breather... But for now, Mushroom steak sounds lovely, and I gladly accept the wine offer. I'm more partial to mead, perhaps we can try that next meal if you're interested, I've some in my space unless Thrak'rr's decided to steal it in annoyance."

"I heard that!"
The foul smelling troll mercenary shouts from far back, where he and the uncomfortably calm Roc have been following the group at a safe distance.

"You were meant to!"

Smiling slightly, White looks around.
"Wait. Did anyone see where Mahmoud wondered off?"

Yalla and Mahmoud

Yalla smiles as she settles into the conversation, and receives her water flasks back from Phideaux.

"Your point is well made, Phideaux. While we each clearly have an extraordinary and diverse set of skills, we haven't spoken at length about how those might unfold in a dangerous situation."

The chocolate-skinned angel form tilted her head to one side as she listened to White Shell's description of his combat form.

"Normally, I stay in this form in dangerous situations, unless there's a reason to do otherwise, because I need to be able to cast spells. It's worth noting, though, that sometimes Mahmoud chooses to be a dragon, or, um, this."

In the blink of an eye, the angel is replaced by a nightmarish shape, a central beak with ten suckered arms, each ending in a vaguely humanoid head. The heads turn at each other and hiss briefly, and then the angel is back. She shudders briefly.

"The boy likes it, but it always makes me feel like I need to take a bath. In such forms, he will doubtless strive to hold his own alongside the rest of you. Oh, and while we're talking about fighting horrors with horrors, I use these as well."

She gestures, and a strange creature appears beside her. It looks a bit like a vulture crossed with a person, made out of wax and melted slightly. One of its bulging eyes lifts out of its sockets, revealing a slimy orange tentacle connecting it to its skull. Yalla gestures again, and the creature vanishes.

"Oh! And as for keeping track of where we are - as long as you stay within 100' feet of me"

The angel smiles. Her voice continues directly in everyone's minds.

*I can track you, and relay messages. Mahmoud, for example, is 55 feet to my left. Oh! Make that 40...20..."

Mahmoud rushes into the clearing where the others had settled. He has abandoned the gathering of mushrooms.

"Hey, there's some kind of machine over here. It looks like a, a craft that someone can climb into."

Spoiler: OOC

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A relatively easy knowledge (Planes) check identifies the bird-thing as a vrock. A somewhat harder one identifies it as pseudonatural. Knowledge Dungeoneering might identify the starfish creature as a Shrieking Terror.

Except for a few minutes each day when she's renewing her bindings, Yalla has 100' telepathy and Mindsight active, and is watching for the appearance of anything that isn't mindless. Right now, she's checking for signs of any intelligences, especially in the area Mahmoud has just come from.

GROUP BUFFS

Unless I hear otherwise from you, here are the 24 hour buffs that Yalla will be sharing with the entire group (including minions etc) every evening:
Death Ward
Divine Agility
Divine Favour
Divine Power
Holy Star
Recitation
Superior Resistance
Mass Lesser Vigor

All of these are at CL 22. The benefits break down as follows:
+6 enhancement to strength
+10 enhancement to dexterity
BAB Reset to Character Level
22 temporary HP
+3 Luck to attack rolls
+3 Luck to weapon damage rolls
+6 Resistance to saving throws
+2 Luck to saving throws
+6 Circumstance to AC
+2 Luck to AC
Fast Healing 1

Merry Christmas!

"Who needs to extend a tunnel?" a blast of water strong enough to throw a man on his back surges forth from Phideaux's hand and hydrates the tunnel behind them. "I can keep that up indefinitely."

When Mahmoud returns with his news, the warforged shuts down his water-works and immediately moves to place himself between this machine and his group. "Whatever it is, please allow me to approach it first. I may have some insight into its workings and thus be able to discern it's function and purpose."

"It's an piloted dwarf warsuit by the sound. I'd have better chances, but take care for booby traps. I'll take a sniff for tracks if you think it's safe, maybe hop in."
White manages to sound only moderately interested while he lets Phideaux move on ahead, mushroom steak temporarily forgotten as he moves to follow him. From a safe distance.

Yalla and Mahmoud

Spoiler: Current appearances

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https://www3.pictures.zimbio.com/mp/PJgGlk6_88ol.jpghttps://dungeonsmaster.com/wp-conten...0/troll-01.jpg

Mahmoud cheerfully leads the group back to where he found the device. While White Shell checks it out, the mother and son team circle the area, looking for tracks or other signs of what might have happened to the previous occupant.

Spoiler: Rolls

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Mahmoud:
Spot: [roll0]
Survival (he has track): [roll1]

Yalla:
Spot: [roll2]

Phideaux stalks close to the dwarven tech and spreads his wings to act as a barrier in case anything goes awry. He peers into it's workings, past it's exterior to see if he can make sense of it's design.

Spoiler: OoC

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[roll0] Spot
[roll1] Knowledge Architecture and Engineering

https://pasteall.org/media/3/c/3c993...031d5aa90b.jpg Nisha Zhao

There was much ho-hum from the others about the clash of the dwarves and the hobgoblins. Being a stranger to this part of the world, Nisha knew very little of the factions they described, instead only knowing what motes of knowledge had travelled the trade roads into her corner of the world.

Well...that wasn't entirely true.

Her people had had a hobgoblin problem.

Had, being the key word.

Their hobgoblin problem was solved, however, by a cultural exchange of metallurgic instrumentation, field work analysis and, finally, persistent cessation of hobgoblin activities. The Black Wizard suppressed a little smirk. Yes, those had been interesting times.

Hearing her fellows excited tones over the discovery of...something, Nisha first finished her glass of wine before ascending from her seated position. At 5'4", she was the shortest among the group, by far. Her trim shorter figure and friendly, exotic looks belied what went on within her pretty head, and as the wizard approached the group she kept an eye-out for what had grabbed their attention so.

Engineering was not her forte, but Nisha knew a little about a lot, and a lot about a little, so she peered at the contraption from a safe distance...

ooc:
Knowledge (Engineering): [roll0]

Yalla and Mahmoud

Spoiler: OOC

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I'm making this all up so as to keep this narrative flowing. I'll change in response to new information from Bel as needed.

Yalla and Mahmoud come back to rejoin the group. Mahmoud is carrying a helmet with a length of rope dangling from it, and a strange silver rod.

"How's the examination going over here? About fifty feet further west, by a trickle of what we'll call water for the sake of argument, there's a body of a dwarf wearing glorified underwear. The only injury is a hole in the back of his skull, and his brain's been removed. Besides his underwear, he was wearing that helmet, and holding this rod. We thought they might be important to operating this thing. Both have powerful transmutation magics laid over them, but I didn't get more than that. Perhaps someone else would have better luck?"

Mahmoud gingerly sets down both objects near the device.

"The dwarf looked to have been lying there for weeks, not years. Pretty amazing, though. He already has some mushrooms on him."

White shifts so most of his weight is on his left leg.
"Looks like a control helmet, and I'm betting there's Illithid about. Once Phideaux's cleared the construct for safety, I might be able to use it for running it. However we're going to need to keep double watches from here on out... At least two of us don't need to sleep."

White sounds rather concerned as he talks, obviously considering the Illithid a potential trouble.

Yalla and Mahmoud

Yalla seems more intrigued than upset by the prospect of illithid.

"Interesting, and excellent deductions. I have never met the brain stealers myself, but have long wanted to try to make friendly contact.
From my readings on extra planar goings on, we may have a common enemy. But that is the great game, macro rather than micro, as it were. In the interim, I would absolutely agree that ensuring that my brain is not extracted and devoured is a much higher priority."

The angel smiles a lopsided half-grin.

"If the dwarves are as hard-put topside by the hobgoblins, it's interesting to find a powerful tool of theirs deployed this far down, away from that battle site. Perhaps they've been fighting two battles all along?"

Your combined knowledge is sufficient to understand how powerful a tool the mechanized suit is. The dwarves power the artifacts with the soul's of their ancestors, they have larger flying craft powered by the dead dismembered bodies of ancient family members, powering the weapons and soul-engines, this warsuit is similarly powered, and barring any of you becoming a dwarf of the family that it belongs to, it would be impossible to utilize, let alone power on, such are the restrictions to the pilots and the safety protocols in place.

The body poses a true problem, Mind-Flayers are not know to be in this area, and could definitely be a culprit, there are others that it could be, to include unknown monsters who lurk in the darker places of this realm.

You DO know one thing that should be done, and can be done, the dwarf burial rights, treating the body and laying it to rest, would be a welcome process, but defiling it is another matter, and the dwarves see one or the other, nothing in between, their dead are holy relics to be revered....and used.

But, as you are sitting by your campfire and coming back from the grove of fungi, you hear a cacophonous laughter echoing through the tunnels, something that could only be from a large mouth screams "HAHahAHaA, YoU are GoinG to die!" it yells, almost incoherently.

White steps back from his investigation of the construct and debating getting in it to turn it on when the voice calls out. He take a moment to turn to Yalla as he softly glows through one of the red stained glass panels on his armor.
"It looks like you might have been right about a second foe. Perhaps they'll be small and this is a Dwarven scout."

White sounds entirely unimpressed by the deaththreat, moving towards the sound slowly enough to give Phideaux time to catch up and form the frontline towards the voice.
"Why so stranger!"
And then with a motion, he disappears in the darkness of the cave.

Spoiler: OOC Note

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Enervating Shadow.

Yalla and Mahmoud

Yalla smiled, thinking about all of the creatures who had claimed her death over the years. Many were still alive, and two had sort of succeeded. But on the whole, the percentages did not seem to be in their favour.

She reached out with her mind to try to better apprehend the creature approaching.

*We are only seeking swift passage through these lands. There is no need for violence. Perhaps we can stop and come together to share stories.*

In negotiations, however, sometimes it was useful to have a big stick. Or in this case, a 30' tall spider standing in front of you. Yalla's eyes briefly flash silver, and the creature was there in front of her.

Mahmoud ceased his work tearing out chunks of the mycelium to create a burial place for the dwarf. Trotting to stand in front of and to one side of his mother, he moves smoothly into a ready crouch and sniffs the air.

Spoiler: OOC

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Yalla's using her mindsense to get a location, creature type and approximate intelligence for whatever's out there. Then telepathy to say hi.
Then Zceryll's Summon Alien ability to bring in a pseudonatural fiendish colossal spider in front of Yalla, next to White.

Mahmoud simply takes up a ready position in War Troll form.

Phideaux let's the others focus on the direction the strange voice came from and takes a guard position over the rear of the party. "Consider your backs covered. We will not be caught unaware."

Your telepathic communicae fails to connect with anything, and your extra senses do not 'see' anything, either they are out of range, or do not have a mind to detect.

However, you do start to feel a consciousness swarming the area, as if....the very ground was sentient? You have not felt anything like this before, it's surging from everywhere, as if you were a focus point of...something.

The being just laughs at your words "Hahehahhehahahahehha"

Yalla and Mahmoud


Yalla hefts an eyebrow. With a few strokes of her wings, she rises up to about 30'. She sends a message to her colleagues.

*I can't pinpoint a single mind, but there's a sense of a presence coming up from below.*

In response, Mahmoud transforms and also drifts upward next to his mother. In his new shape, he is a kind of nightmarish starfish, with each arm tipped with a gaping head.

Spoiler: OOC

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Yalla simply flies up a bit and hovers, waiting to see what emerges. She is in Solar form, with the pseudonatural template.

Mahmoud shifts into a 10-headed Shrieking Terror (MM3 pg 154) and also floats up to wait.

A summary of the effects of shared group buffs:

Summary of Group Buffs:
+6 enhancement to strength
+10 enhancement to dexterity
BAB Reset to Character Level
22 temporary HP
+3 Luck to attack rolls
+3 Luck to weapon damage rolls
+6 Resistance to saving throws
+2 Luck to saving throws
+6 Circumstance to AC
+2 Luck to AC
Fast Healing 1

White Shell looks to his feet, tightening his mandibles in a frown. While merged perfectly with the black he's no desire to have the ground open up under his feet.

"Thrak'rr, get Skykiller hovering."
With that, the invisible insectiod becomes a large dragon, his patch of the cave darkening slightly before he launches into the air.

Spoiler: OOC

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Activating Skin of the Proteus, turning into a Young Adamantine Dragon.

Cast Beguiling Whispers, Walk Unseen and Darkness on the square I was in, and then fly up to 100ft up while staying 30ft below the roof of the cave.

Active invocations Personal: Devil's Sight, Beguiling Influence, Walk Unseen and Enervating Shadow (4 round timer)

Phideaux stalks to what feels like the epicenter of The voice. He brandishes his battlefist and scrapes it loudly against the stone floor. His rose gold eyes penetrate the darkness and rock, seeking the source of the vocal intrusion.

Spoiler: OoC

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Armored Sense: Spot
[roll0]
X-ray vision, 18' range

*Poke poke*