The Reckoning of Hollow Torn[IC]

[chrisrawr]

OOC:
First post TBC

[drack]

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Ah, took your OOC bit as meaning this was the OOC XD

The medicine man sat in the corner, much out of place in the tavern, looking much older then the oldest man n town, and still frequenting places like this... Still he didn't mind. Silently he gestured for the barmaid to bring him another ale, it could be a while until those old friends returned, and he wished to savor the silence.

[Gnomes2169]

Standing in the middle of the training grounds, Gloria took a few more practice shots at the target dummy and went to collect her arrows. "I may not be the best shot, but at least I can hit most of the time." She muttered to one of the snickering archers behind her. She could take a hit and hold her beer as well, which those two had proven very clearly last night was beyond them. Gloria retrieved the last of her arrows and walked off, "I'm going to see if I can find any more information about my family ring. Don't shoot yourselves in the foot while I'm away."

[chrisrawr]

A breeze moves through the city of Hollow Torn, carrying on it the stench of orc and goblin, and things more foul beyond.

It is not a natural breeze. It is unrelenting, filthy with disease. Open wounds fester, children grow ill. Rats flourish and multiply, and grain spoils.

Hollow Torn is the last bastion of the confederation. You stopped in the city during your travels, for whatever reasons, and now are unable to leave.

The gates close at night, and there's no safe passage during the day - everywhere to the east has fallen to the hordish armies, and they've begun to surround even the city's great walls.

The armies of the confederation have rallied here, the last defensible position this side of the great oceans. To the north and south, great mountains rise - their denizens unknown and unknowable, ancient and fickle beyond good or evil, orc or man.

The city itself is built around a massive lake, in many places extending onto it. Large rivers carrying mountain run-off split the valley in half, forcing any attackers to break and split their assault against the city's walls.

The walls themselves are powerful works of magic, an enchanted stonework crafted by mages long passed, in the era of legends. No ladder or grapple finds purchase upon them, no siege engine created could more than scratch their rough stone bricks.

Aside from Gloria, you sit in an inn. Or various inns. They're all alike - full of soldiers, serving girls, and weak ale. More often than not, clean water costs more than a good wine. The city council had made it illegal to any drink water except that which they sold to merchants and vendors, a move that was both upsetting, and life-saving.

The news around you was unmistakable: "We need to break this siege, strike back - even a Pyrrhic victory at this point would be better than starving to death, or catching ill."

"The healers are taxed to their limit, sick and dying everywhere. My platoon is stuck cleaning up any messes that arise, never thought I'd see so much crap in one place than after having kids, but this..."

"We're running out of arrows. We're running out of swords. We're running out of recruits. For all the good it does, we might as well be throwing rats at the buggers."

The situation was indeed dire. It took every man, elf, and harpy just to keep the bodies from piling up high enough for the enemy to simply ramp over the walls. The dwarves and minotaur were busy below, resisting incursions to the lands beyond - a single fist of goblins could carry dozens of orc spawn covertly into the farmlands, and in weeks there would be nothing important left to defend, and no food to feed the defenders with.

All around the city, the question is asked, "What can we do?"

[drack]

OOC

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This changes things slightly.

Finishing his sour ale the aged man leaves the inn in search of the dead. It would be best to have them off the streets, and with them he could at least help with the water issue. The cracking of a strange skull in his hands goes unnoticed as the aged man vanishes.

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Cast invisibility on self, for the next five rounds wander town picking up anything dead from animals to people and tucking them into bag of holding. Mind you once they're in the bag they're invisible too, and so long as they're unattended my invisibility lasts. What do I find?
(somehow forgot to grab cure spells and my favorite level zero spell, create water)

[AttilaTheGeek]

A tiefling sits in a room in the Overused Plot Device tavern. For once, his red, horned face is unhooded, and he gazes at the sheathed blade in his lap. He says, seemingly to himself, "But I can't just betray the people of this city! They've done nothing wrong!"

The Blade whispers into his mind. No, not yet, but take a single step outside and you'll see how suddenly they change their minds. Fight with the orcs, and you shall be received as a hero. No longer must you hide your skin. Wear it proudly, as the commanding general of the most fearsome army the world has ever known!

"But what makes these people deserve to die?"

They would do the same to you.

"So you want me to be just as malicious as they are? If I can get out of here and flee, then I will. But I'd be shot by both sides."

Look at me. Cairn drew the blade. It was jet black with mysterious sigils winding down the blade that pulsed faintly with a dim light. Why flee? You and I could carve a swath of destruction through this city. All you need to do is step outside and defeat the city guard. The orcs shall sweep through the walls, and you will be hailed as a hero.

"You may be powerful, but you can't command me. I won't let this city fall."

That's what you think.

[Gnomes2169]

She sat outside of the tavern, bow at her side and falchion on her lap. For some reason, Gloria felt that she should be sharpening it, but its magical nature meant that it did not need to be sharpened. So instead, it seemed that she had nothing to do but sit around and wait for something to happen. Gah, what is going on here? Someone needs to do something, and soon, or this place will be dead and gone... She had helped a few times already, firing off pot-shots at random enemies when they had come too close to the gates, but otherwise hadn't been able to help or show her true strength. "If anyone was willing to go out there with me, maybe I wouldn't feel so useless..." Gloria mumbled, pulling out the whetstone she used for her dagger so that she could pretend that she was sharpening her sword and doing something useful.

[Erik Vale]

There is little chatter to be had between the three in the taverns corner. All outsiders by trade and by slight quirk that makes them seem wierd, something indefinable but present.

They drink the weakest swill, something that could be called water but is clean by plesentry of it's Alcohol content. Each of them seem figity, the same sort of figity that has overcome all the adventurers in the city waiting for a mission. However they are begining to take not of things around the tavern as it gets louder.

[chrisrawr]

Not for Players

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Rolls: 1: (1d20+3)[6], 2: (1d20+3)[4],
3: (1d20+5)[11], 4: (1d20+5)[13],
5: (1d20+3)[11], 6: (1d20+5)[22],
7: (1d20+1)[20], 8: (1d20+1)[4], 9: (1d20+1)[4],

Drack

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You begin to notice something odd about the bodies you pick up - mostly small children and elderly. Orange, puss-filled sores adorn their skin near hands and feet. On some, they're small and barely noticeable, feeling similar to normal skin.

On others, the pustules rupture upon being disturbed, releasing an oily substance.

All in all, you manage to collect a fair amount of unsoiled humanoid bodies, given the general state and the amount of time you spend searching.

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You collect 13HD of medium humanoids over 4 bodies (2, 2, 4, 5). I'm going to need 3 spot checks, a search check, a knowledge: nature check, and a heal check.

Attila

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"That's a fine blade there, stranger - not one my people would like to see used against us."

You look up, drawn from your struggle by an elderly Elvish face. Wizened brow and deeply furrowed mouth twitch with nervousness. He glanced around as if seeking support, though from whom you know not - the tavern seems to have grown scarce since you last looked.

"We're looking for those of... your kind" - he quickly corrects the implied misconception, "Warriors, fighters, travelers with strange artifacts or skills. We're forming a... group, of sorts. There's a plan - if you're interested, we could use a blade like that."

He cuts off, as if having said too much.

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2 Spot checks and a Listen from you. Sense motive if you want.

Gnomes

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A tingling up your spine alerts you to a presence behind you, and turning, you see a small child - gnomish or elven, you're unsure. "Hey, lady - you wanna help? You gotta come this way!" In a singsong voice, she hums, skips, and twirls away, beckoning you to follow.

You feel yourself drawn to a cause you can't quite understand, for reasons you don't quite agree with or know.

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Spot check, 2 Will saves. If spot is above 20, a third will save.

Erik

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A general sense of unease permeates the tavern you're in, and slowly you realize that - for once - it's not from you. A character sits in the corner. A low buzzing makes itself heard as the room quiets. Finally, only the staff, yourself, and the stranger remain. Hood and cloak make features impossible to make out.

Scrape, Click. Scrape click, Scrape, click *thunk*. The stranger stands, buzzing intensifying. Scrape, Click. Something is dragging as they move. Scrape, click. The stranger leaves two small furrows in the ground as they exit the room, the sound repeats at each step as they ascend to the sleeping quarters.

A short time passes. Screaming begins.

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Make a reflex save for your right-most character (your choice for now), and 3 listen checks. Each listen check passed (DC 20) adds +1 to the roll of your reflex.

[Erik Vale]

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I assume 1 check per character. Right most would be the warlock.

Listens
(1d20)[19]
(1d20+2)[3]
(1d20+7)[16]

Reflex, +1 per roll above 20.
(1d20+4)[22]

Ok, I cant post until I know what the reflex save was for, but thats no succesful listens for a reflex of 22.

[AttilaTheGeek]

I'm listening.

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Since my character is technically pathfinder, I'll just use Perception for both Spot and Listen. (They all also work off wisdom).

Spot 1:(1d20+2)[12]
Spot 2:(1d20+2)[15]
Listen: (1d20+2)[5]

[drack]

rolls

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spot
(1d20+3)[20]
(1d20+3)[9]
(1d20+3)[13]
search
(1d20+3)[18]
knowledge nature
(1d20+3)[7]
heal
(1d20+11)[27]

Also gonna toss out a reminder that RHD matters for reanimating, not HD. (was expecting more with 1 or less HD, mayhaps some twos if I'm lucky, unless there are things like ogres living here with higher RHD...

[Gnomes2169]

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Spot: 19+7=26
Will saves: 1: 5+6=11, 2: 17+6=23, 16+6=22

[chrisrawr]

Erik

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A figure out of nightmares crashes down through the roof, sending rubble and timber in all directions, a plume of dust obscuring the area. Gavanak barely darts out of the way, dodging the falling form of the stranger who'd disappeared just before.

On top, a ferociously snarling wolf - quite large by Eastern standards - bites and rips at the stranger's cloak, revealing the green skin and over-large blades of an orcish war dancer.

Without warning, the aforementioned blades find themselves buried in the wolf, which keens as it dies. A blade whips towards Markus, and the Orc turns to bolt for the door.

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Your characters are in the north-west corner of the tavern (for ease of building up the battle scene). The tavern is 40 feet W-E, and 60 feet N-S. Starting from 0,0 WestX NorthY, and ending 40,60 EastX SouthY, the entrance is 20-25X, 60Y. The orc is 20X, 20Y, and you are 0X5Y, 0X0Y, and 5X0Y.

One half of (1d3+1)[4] damage from rubble on Gav.

Difficult Terrain for 5 feet around you (Square from 0,0 to 10,10); partial concealment equal to 10% miss chance for projectiles through the dust cloud for (1d4)[4] rounds.

Initiative: Orcish Blade Dancer (1d20+9)[22]

Surprise Round Attack:
Thrown Dagger Attack Roll: (1d20+5)[10]; Miss chance from 1-10(1d100)[30]
Damage if necessary:

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(1d4+3)[6]
Crit if necessary:

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(1d20+5)[25] (1d4+3)[6]

Attila

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A flicker catches your attention, but turns out to be a curtain. The wizened elf continues. "We're arranging a mission of sorts, a stab at what we hope is the heart of our troubles." He waits for your nod, "We'd like your help - you'd be one of a few groups of... strangers. Immigrants. Volunteers and outcasts, all willing and able-bodied. You'll be..." He looks around again. "Well, you'll be informed more if you accept, and we can talk more openly elsewhere. For the good of civilization, will you help us, sir...?"

Drack

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Class levels for humanoids with no RHD count as RHD for determining undead because that's how I'm gonna roll with it or whatever wololol.

From what you can see, everywhere there's bodies, there's holes. Behind you is a wagon team piling bodies; the wagon is littered with holes as well.

An orange pustule, large and hidden, bursts as you reach towards a body - you're forced to reject it, but your proximity reveals dozens - no, hundreds of small, orange insects, hidden almost perfectly by the pus.

They burrow quickly into the ground, the skin, the wood... any substance nearby. You can see a few obvious holes where some of the larger insects have done so all over the place, now that you look for it... even rock.

You don't know what it is, but you've heard tales of similar holes in patients and bodies before - not of this magnitude, of course... You're simply happy you weren't any closer.

Gnomes

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You feel yourself begin towards the girl, before your vision doubles. A sharp pain creases your mind, but you resist the urge to call out.

A crone appears, overlapped with the girl. In her hand, a glowing wand - you shake off the compulsion trying to take hold of your mind, only to find your feet still follow. The crone's voice cracks as she speaks, a twisted harmony overlaying the girl's.

"We will not hurt you, but require your presence. The council forbids what I do, but you would have come in any case - I can see it in your heart of hearts, oh child. We have not time - haste is necessary. You must go before..."

Her eyes dart around then, and she whispers, "No time, no time - hurry - RUN!" You begin running behind her as she scampers down a back alley. Twists and turns lose you in the maze of the city's heart, but finally you catch up to her.

You begin to feel your own control returning - magic is not strong in this age, and what once could have dominated your will for hours lasts mere minutes now.

"Duck inside this building, go!" She aids her command with a small amount of pushing, overcoming your still-feeble control. Rough hands grab you, pat you down, a drink is forced into your grip and your shoulders find themselves blissed under unseen fingers. Then, a voice in the darkness. "So, you've finally found one - And just in time!" You feel its attention turn toward you. "Speak your name, adventurer, let us record it for your heroism. Welcome to the Resistance!"

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You're shaken for the next 3 rounds, but otherwise able to act normally. From what you can see, you're 10 feet from a heavy wooden door, and before you is a dark, circular room.

Also, if you can, please roll in the post you use; I don't otherwise know where you rolled, though I trust your rolls no problem -- I just prefer to have them sourced in front of me /spergin

[Erik Vale]

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The wolf wadn't particularly large by the measure of this lot, however that didn't stop them from being shocked. When the orc attempts to escape, Markus almost by reflex attempts to restrain him by striking out at her mind, the two sitting next to him immediately leap up to surround the orc. The orc's mind when struck resounds with the blow, that those on the material from even outside the tavern can detect as a deep voiced shout, acompanied by Markus's own shout of "HALT!"



Innitiative

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Me: (1d20+2)[3]
Warlock: (1d20+3)[9]
Ranger:(1d20+0)[19]

Actions

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Markus uses Ego Whip on the Orcish blade Dancer. Deals (1d4)[3] Charisma damage [save half, minimum 1] and dazes [save to negate] for 1 rounds. [DC's 17]
Ranger moves to 15X20Y [In front of Orc], Redies a grapple if the orc attempts to move.
Warlock moves to 15X10Y [Behind Orc], Uses Baleful Utterence on any weapon still held by orc [DC 15], redies grapple on orc if the orc attempts to move.

[drack]

Calmly the old man reappears unnoticed in the bustling streets, trekking his way back to the overused plot device tavern. Perhaps those young-ins had arrived by now...

[AttilaTheGeek]

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Yes, you must do it, join them. Then strike down their leader on the eve of battle. They will be thrown into disarray, and the orcs will emerge victorious.

"I'll do it." Cairn sheathes the blade, and the runes dim. While putting on his cloak, he continues. "Where do I go? What's next?"

[Gnomes2169]

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The first number in each equation is what I rolled on a d20, the second is the modifier and the third is the result. I can use the same method that everyone else is using though, if you need me to.

Gloria looked around the room cautiously before sighing. "My name is Gloria, now what is this resistance you are talking about?" She had just been kidnapped and brought to a strange place, diplomacy was not really one of her strong points at this moment.

[chrisrawr]

Erik

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A screeching sound is heard as Gavanak's invocation slides off of the orc's blade.

Drack

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You pass a line of elves exiting the tavern, followed by a confused-looking man.

Attila

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"Splendid! Oh just wonderful, you've really taken a load off my bones, young man - and the bones of the city. We go to The Gathering, right this way - I might have forgotten to mention a small rush is needed, now. Getting old, you know." With that, the elderly elf - somewhat more spry than he'd been a moment before - is off through the tavern, passing an elderly male on his way out. Shadows peel from the walls around the tavern, resolving into elven rangers - an unseen bodyguard - and follow him out.

Gnomes

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"Why, the resistance of the Free Peoples! The resistance against the rampaging evil that has threatened our lands for too long! Surely Matilde spoke to you of-" The voice no longer seemed directed towards you. "Matilde, oh my dear Matilde - did you truly think that... but no, of course you did." The hag shrunk down, cowering away from the disembodied speech. And shrunk. And shrunk. Finally, a cowering rat was all that was left of the woman who'd kidnapped you, scampering off into the darkness with frightened squealings.

"My apologies, Gloria, Matilde has had delusions of grandeur for some time. If you are here against your will, you are free to go - though, I would prefer you stayed, and heard us out. Our alliance is one of revolution and violent resurgence, of taking back the lands stolen by the orcs - given them by our own corrupt leadership.

If you would join us, your blade would be put to good use, for the will of the people - the will of the land itself. What say you?"

[AttilaTheGeek]

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Cairn takes a minute to put on his armor and attach his scabbard, but covers it to give the appearance of being unprotected. He hides his face under the hood of his cloak and follows the man out.

[drack]

Silently the old man follows the group as they move through the crowd.

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Also gonna take my time remembering and take 20 on knowledge local (23 total) as to where all the bodies are going, and the same on whatever knowledge may be applicable to the bugs to see if I have any idea what they are.

[Gnomes2169]

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"If you are going to fight against the forces attempting to kill this place then... Yes, I will be more than happy to join you." She told the assembled people making up the resistance. "What are you planning to do now? Are there more of you... of us?" With the numbers gathered here, she was doubtful that they would be able to do much... especially since there were more people on the walls right now than there were in this basement.