DnD 3.5 - A Tyranny of Mages - IC

[Zmeoaice]

Paedrig

"Probably because I wouldn't be missed," he replies wryly.

Wow.... that's awful. I certainly hope things get better for you. Perhaps when this mission is done you can move to a different duchy.

Plus it shows a lack of respect or concern Kanaster has for this mission that they would send someone they didn't care about, I'm sure that it's for the best that you were sent instead of someone else.

[ilinares]

Phyrra and Louis Styles hear something out of place in the street outside the front of the building: the sound of weapons being drawn.

At the same time, Paedrig and the vigilant Mr Styles spot something out of the side window: a woman in a battered chain shirt, a round shield on one arm and a spear over her back, throwing open the window of a building opposite and making a curious flickering motion with one hand. An instant later, there is an uproar of sound, like an explosion far too close, and the side window shatters inwards in a shower of jagged shards.

As if on cue, four burly thugs with an array of clubs and cheap swords rush through the door and spread out, taking note of each House representative and rushing towards the nearest.

[Sgt. Suitable]

His ears pick up the sound of weapons being drawn.

A drop of the shoulder swings Louis' longbow around his body and while he pulls a cord with his right hand he simultaneously draws an arrow with his left. He catches the longbow in midair as its protective sheet unravels and falls to the floor allowing the stringed weapon freedom, making it ready for use instantly. He spins around dropping to one knee in the same movement as he notches the arrow and draws it.

He is startling fast, but when he spots the woman outside he can only bend his head and brace himself from the shattering window. However when the shards of glass are falling on the floor and the thugs move into the store, Louis is already down on one knee with his longbow aimed at the front-door.

He whistles, short and loud. He fires at the one coming his way, and shouts: "Get him boy!" From next to him Maxwell, the large hunting dog, doesn't bother with barking. His masters commands gave focus to the sudden chaos and he is happy to oblige. Teeth bared he runs up and jump-bites the thug Louis fired an arrow at.

Spoiler: OOC:

Show

Quick draw; full ranged attack:
(d20+5)[24]
Damage:
(d8+1)[4]

Handle animal:
(d20+3)[10]

[redzimmer]

Paedrig

"Mr. Styles, I believe we are under attack!" Paedrig announces helpfully.

Spoiler: OOC Re: Initiative

Show

Not sure if you want us to wait our turn or post as we go and adjust for initiative after.

Bringing to mind a spell to bring misfortune to his enemies, he casts bane (DC 13) at the attackers.

[ilinares]

The thug nearest Mr Styles staggers, the arrow piercing his abdomen and embedded deep within his vitals. As Paedrig's spell takes effect, the agony on his face gives way to panic, and he falters, looking back towards the door.

The other thugs look uncertain, but are still closing with the party.

Spoiler: Initiative

Show

Your turn Illven. After that, surprise round ends and it's Spiras.

[Illven]

It is at that moment Phyrra starts dancing.

The hell is going on. She calls out, as her allies weapons coat in flame

Spoiler

Show

Using Dragonfire inspiration. Allies get +1d6 fire damage to damage rolls.

[Zmeoaice]

Nope, you're not going to harm us tonight! DOOM!

Spiras casts Doom on the thug charging towards them (I think Thug 2)

Spoiler

Show

Thug 2 needs to make Will saving throw, or is otherwise shaken for the next 10 rounds

DC = 10 + 1 (Spell level) + 3 (WIS mod)

[ilinares]

Spiras feels the spell take hold of its enemy's spirit, brushing past his meagre efforts to ward it off.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

It would be useful for future reference if you could post the save DC when casting, so I don't have to go into your character sheet to work it out.

Deadguy, it's over to Mallet. Happy for you to place him anywhere you want in the room.

[hand ax ranger]

Heris cannot help but be grappled by the half orc.

It akward and sweaty.

He is not happy.

Spoiler: Ooc

Show

umm ok i fobt recall what happens next...so help?

Oh and ill just roll my initiative.

(1d20+1)[9]

[ilinares]

The half-orc grabs hold of Heris, struggling to bear him to the ground. In the process, he delivers a headbutt that sends stars flying in front of Heris's eyes.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Heris takes 3 damage. His turn next - have a look at your options while grappling here http://www.d20srd.org/srd/combat/spe...ngConsequences

[hand ax ranger]

The half-orc grabs hold of Heris, struggling to bear him to the ground. In the process, he delivers a headbutt that sends stars flying in front of Heris's eyes.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Heris takes 3 damage. His turn next - have a look at your options while grappling here http://www.d20srd.org/srd/combat/spe...ngConsequences

Realizing that the other two are shortly going to gang up on him, Heris tries hia best to get this half orc of him.

Short of that, not much else.

Spoiler: grapple check

Show

(1d20+1)[7]

[ilinares]

The half-orc keeps his hold on Heris, and attempts to pin him against the wall of the passageway. As he does so, the halfling draws his bow again, sighting along the arrow and preparing to loose it when Heris is least able to avoid the attack - but the arrow flies wide, the furious struggles of the combatants spoiling the would-be robber's aim, shattering against the wall.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Opposed grapple check please to avoid being pinned - the half-orc scored a 7.

As this is going on, the third man enters the alley. Heris watches him out of the corner of his eye, too busy fending off his assailant to get more than a general impression: a man in a chain shirt and leather trousers, a sword at his side and a buckler on his left arm, with long brown hair and a misshapen nose, most likely having healed crooked after being broken in the past.

The halfling notices the direction of Heris's attention, and sees the newcomer for the first time.

"Friend of yours?" he sneers - but his footing is already shifting, Heris notes, making ready to fight or flee. "Well, you know what's good for you, you'll walk away and pretend you never saw nothin'."

There is a flash of orange light and a blast of heat on the side of Heris's face, and the next glimpse he has of the halfling is a charred corpse on the ground, his clothes smouldering.

[hand ax ranger]

The half-orc keeps his hold on Heris, and attempts to pin him against the wall of the passageway. As he does so, the halfling draws his bow again, sighting along the arrow and preparing to loose it when Heris is least able to avoid the attack - but the arrow flies wide, the furious struggles of the combatants spoiling the would-be robber's aim, shattering against the wall.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Opposed grapple check please to avoid being pinned - the half-orc scored a 7.

As this is going on, the third man enters the alley. Heris watches him out of the corner of his eye, too busy fending off his assailant to get more than a general impression: a man in a chain shirt and leather trousers, a sword at his side and a buckler on his left arm, with long brown hair and a misshapen nose, most likely having healed crooked after being broken in the past.

The halfling notices the direction of Heris's attention, and sees the newcomer for the first time.

"Friend of yours?" he sneers - but his footing is already shifting, Heris notes, making ready to fight or flee. "Well, you know what's good for you, you'll walk away and pretend you never saw nothin'."

There is a flash of orange light and a blast of heat on the side of Heris's face, and the next glimpse he has of the halfling is a charred corpse on the ground, his clothes smouldering.

Heris takes this opportunity to try once more to get this smelly half-orc off him, while tryingbto recall justbwho this person is.

Spoiler: rolls

Show

Grapple check to get him off me
(1d20+1)[15]

I also try to get a looka the guys who torched the halfling, to see if i recognize him. Part if me think he might be an old friend.....
(1d20+1)[8]

[ilinares]

The thugs close with the House representatives as swiftly as they can - all except the one Louis injured, who turns and bolts for the door.

The club-wielding degenerate nearest Grace charges her, swinging his heavy weapon in a vicious overhand swing that the woman is too slow to avoid - it impacts with her skull, making a sickening crunch before Grace collapses, blood pooling from her cracked skull.

Spoiler: Damage

Show

10 bludgeoning damage to Grace, who is now unconscious and dying.

His companion glances at the side window, now a gaping hole, and pauses to consider. Reaching behind his back, he draws a brace of throwing knives before taking cover behind a display, hunkering down and resting his sword on the floor so he is wholly concealed.

On the east side of the room, the remaining assailant rushes along, face red with rage and bloodlust. He rounds the corner nearest the scribe, and pauses long enough to drive his sword into her belly. The gnome's awful scream rends the air, even as her blood soaks into the maps she had so painstakingly been illuminating.

Spoiler: Initiative

Show

End of their turn. Mallet is delaying and can act at any time. Next formal turn is Grace (to stabilize!) then Louis.

Meanwhile, Heris has broken free of his attacker and is finally able to get a good look at the man who just evened the odds for him. He can't remember the man's name, but he has seen him before: he is a House Mayn mercenary, trained as a warmage.

The half orc rounds on the man who killed his ally, charging for him in a frenzy. A wild knife thrust is turned aside by the warmage's shield, and the mercenary calmly steps back, his face looking almost bored. With a twist of his hand, he calls up a sphere of crackling lightning about the size of a mouse's head, and he hurls it into the half-orc's face at point blank range. The criminal bellows in pain and fury - but only for a moment, before he falls to the ground, his face an unrecognisable mess of burns and blisters.

The mercenary looks carefully at Heris.

"I thought it was you, Tregel. How the hell did you come to be representing House Wugur in this business?"

Shaking his head, he draws his sword.

"I'd say this was just business, but I'd be lying. I always thought you were too smug for your own good; now I get to execute a traitor, get paid handsomely, and give you what's coming to you at the same time. A good day all round, wouldn't you say?"

Spoiler: OOC

Show

He's used all his actions for the round. Over to Heris!

[neriractor]

Grace lies on the floor, helpless... Was this it? She'll die to a common thug on a tiny shop without ever advancing beyond her given spot in life, but there was no light at the end of the tunnel yet, perhaps there was some hope left...?

Spoiler: ooc

Show

stabilize roll: (1d100)[96]
Grace takes one damage, currently at -3 HP

Why do bad things happen to bad people?

... But no, a small torch-like object appears before Grace, to the people outside she shakes in pain, gurgling on the blood in her mouth, she followed the shiny object, to wherever it may take her...

[Sgt. Suitable]

At the same time, Paedrig and the vigilant Mr Styles spot something out of the side window: a woman in a battered chain shirt, a round shield on one arm and a spear over her back, throwing open the window of a building opposite and making a curious flickering motion with one hand. An instant later, there is an uproar of sound, like an explosion far too close, and the side window shatters inwards in a shower of jagged shards.

The combat is in full swing. A growling Maxwell has his jaws firmly around the neck of one of the assailants by the door and isn't of mind to let go anytime soon. As Louis draws a second arrow and looks for a thug to shoot he notices one of them hitting the deck. He swings his aim over to the shattered window (and if he sees the woman he will send an arrow her way. If not, his arm and aim will swing over toward the thug that just made a garden ornament of the gnome.)

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Attack: (d20+4)[18] (+1 if its the gnome killer thug)
Damage: (d8)[8] (+1 if its the gnome killer thug)

Maxwell the dog:
(d20+2)[18]
Damage:
(1d4+1)[4]

[Sgt. Suitable]

Paedrig

"Mr. Styles, I believe we are under attack!" Paedrig announces helpfully.

"Master Paedrig, I believe you are right. We shall remedy this. I also think there's a reason they chose to break the window.. Brace yourselves." Louis answers coolly whilst he takes aim and shoots.

[ilinares]

Mallet, having previously been observing events unfold with no discernible emotion on his metal visage, breaks into sudden violent motion when he sees Grace fall. With a hiss of pistons and a crash of steel, he covers the distance between him and the triumphant attacker in a fraction of a second. His immense hammer moves in a blur, faster than human limbs could withstand, the blow striking the enemy in the sternum and lifting him bodily from his feet, his ribs and chest collapsing inwards, sending blood and viscera flying.

The dog meanwhile clamps its jaws around the fleeing assailant's throat, audibly snapping the man's neck as it shakes him like a terrier with a rat.

Louis Styles is just in time to spot the woman reappearing at a different window, seemingly having moved to get a better angle of attack. His arrow soars across the intervening distance, but having to judge the angle between not just one, but two windows spoils his aim: the arrow strikes the window pane beside the woman, and sticks there quivering, serving only to attract her attention to the archer.

[redzimmer]

Paedrig

Anticipation wells up in Paedrig's chest.

At last a chance to test my theory!

He scurries over to the fallen Grace, intones some words in Celestial...

"δεν είναι παρά μια γρατσουνιά!"

If his theory is true, you need no God's favour to mend wounds...

Spoiler: In OOC terms

Show

Ten foot movement, casts cure minor wounds (1 hp) If a successful cure will stabilize, Paedrig will be very pleased with himself.
For bilingual fun:
Celestial= Greek
Draconic= Latin
Infernal= German
Abyssal= Welsh

Best to save the more powerful healing spells for himself.

[hand ax ranger]

"Oh great...its Decan the slow sword....niw im probably...going to have to kill him, get all the others peeved off...." he thinks, slightly rolling his eyes.

He cast his defenseive spell, which happens to be one of his favorites, and stares him down.

Heris speaks with intention, perhaps letting reconsider this. Perhaps they could work something out.........

"Duncan....you REALLY going to try to slay me!? After the tens if thousands of times I knocked your sorry hide to the ground when we trained? I must admit....im really not fazed. And whose loyalty did i exactly forsake? The house i wasn't from, or the college that only saw me as their class pet!? "

He quickly blurts out in his mind"Except Rosetta. ....."

He twirls the sword once in the hand, then doubles up on the handle.
"Tell you what, im feeling generous. Perhaps we can work out a deal that benefits up both. One where I don't have your pathetic soul on my conscious, and you blood all over this back alley."

Spoiler: actions

Show

I cast Shield on myself, then i attempt to intimidate him to cease the attackimg me.

Intimadate:
(1d20+5)[23]

[ilinares]

"It's Decan," the mercenary growls - but he licks his lips, eyeing Heris's sword warily. After a moment's pause, he lowers his blade to point at the ground. "I suppose I'm not being paid that well. But a hired sword who double-crosses the guy paying his fee doesn't get a lot of of work once word gets around - and what would the family say, if they heard of it?"

He shakes his head, clearly undecided.

"No harm hearing you out, I guess. What do you have in mind?"

[hand ax ranger]

"It's Decan," the mercenary growls - but he licks his lips, eyeing Heris's sword warily. After a moment's pause, he lowers his blade to point at the ground. "I suppose I'm not being paid that well. But a hired sword who double-crosses the guy paying his fee doesn't get a lot of of work once word gets around - and what would the family say, if they heard of it?"

He shakes his head, clearly undecided.

"No harm hearing you out, I guess. What do you have in mind?"

Heris lowers his own blade.

"There see? We can be civil Decan. By the way I do remember your name, just wanted to mess with you a bit.

Anyway, im pretty sure I know who sent you, and ill save you saying it. But not how much they're paying you. What I do know....is your not truly important in the eyes of House Mayn......"

Spoiler: for Dm only

Show

"..... but to me your help would be invaluable. To be honest, serving House Wugur only serves a means to get myself to a respected position. And I can offer more than just wealth......."

He drops the sword. Heris walks slowly towards him, arms exposed as to show there's no trickery.

"....I need a loyal partner to help me achieve my goals. I was about to offer those goons the same offer, if they were to jyst bow to me And serve without question....but not you.....I consider you too respectable for such. I want to make you a much better offer....why kill for a few gold, when you can help me and gain what you really want...


He stosp directly in front of him, placing both hands on his head. He stares Decan straight in the eyes, both to show hes not lying and to show the fire in his eyes as he envisions the task before them.

"wealth...power.....respect! To them your nothing but a disposable runt, but join me and we will pave our own fate. Together we shall gain the respect and glory we know we both deserve!"

He turns around and raises his hands to the sky, high off the visions he has seen since as long as he can remember. He shouts to the heavens

" it is my...no..our fate! To be powerful! To be rulers of men! To becone legends written upon the pages of time, names spoken with fear and respect throughout all of eternity! All we must do is reach out and claim our destiny!"

Heris turns to offer Decan his hand, the other still raised to the sky.

"Will you join me brother? To seek that which is ours, if we only claim it for ourselves!?"

[Illven]

Phyrra moves up to D5 and shoots at Thug 4

Spoiler

Show

(1d20+2)[6]
(1d6)[5]
Fire (1d6)[2]

[ilinares]

Phyrra's bolt flies far wide of its target, the unfamiliar stress of battle perhaps making her aim more difficult than in practice.

Spoiler: Hand Ax Ranger only

Show

Decan stares at Heris warily.

"Are you bat**** crazy? You're a demonspawned blacksmith! You've got a good swordarm, I'll give you that, but let's not forget how the world works: those with magic do whatever the hell they want unless someone with stronger magic comes along and stops them. The rest of you lowly mosslickers? You're lucky if you get through a whole day without someone killing you because you're inconvenient."

Decan seems to realise he might have gone too far, and holds up a hand in a placating gesture.

"All right, fine, you're good enough in a fight that I'd rather not take you on. But let's face it, I'm at the bottom of the ladder as far as power is concerned. You go up against one of the real nobility - or, angels forbid, a Duke - and they'd hardly notice you were there before they called a servant to clean up the remnants."

He shakes his head, and then adds:

"Besides, I really don't like you."

[Zmeoaice]

Spiras noted the smeared remains of the first thug. It was an uneasy site, one which Spray did not enjoy.

Shield of Faith. Alright, we're adventurers, not murderhobos, I believe we can solve this more civilly.

Hey Thugs! You both are clearly outmatched, outnumbered and weakened. If you surrender and drop your weapons, we can guarantee you a nice cozy prison cell. Attack us or try to flee and you will pronably end up like two of your friends here.

Mallet, please restrain Thug #2 regardless of his decision, I prefer we take at least one prisoner.

Spiras walked up to the thug while talking and kicked the display over, removing his concealment.

Spoiler

Show

Spiras has +2 AC bonus

[hand ax ranger]

Spoiler: Hand Ax Ranger only

Show

Decan stares at Heris warily.

"Are you bat**** crazy? You're a demonspawned blacksmith! You've got a good swordarm, I'll give you that, but let's not forget how the world works: those with magic do whatever the hell they want unless someone with stronger magic comes along and stops them. The rest of you lowly mosslickers? You're lucky if you get through a whole day without someone killing you because you're inconvenient."

Decan seems to realise he might have gone too far, and holds up a hand in a placating gesture.

"All right, fine, you're good enough in a fight that I'd rather not take you on. But let's face it, I'm at the bottom of the ladder as far as power is concerned. You go up against one of the real nobility - or, angels forbid, a Duke - and they'd hardly notice you were there before they called a servant to clean up the remnants."


He shakes his head, and then adds:

"Besides, I really don't like you."

Spoiler: for dms eyes only

Show

Heris walks back to his sword and pick it up. He only points his left hand at Decan however, still unwilling to give up the negotiations.

" you're pathetic! Even now, as you stand in the very city of the king, do you say one man cannot change the world. If our king united the house in relative peace, what's to say I cannot change my stars!

There are men of greater magic and talent, this much is true, but did not seek it themselves? Were they just given such talent? No! They're their own result of hard work and high ambition, neither of which I have a shortness of. To merely dream of power and glory is not my nature, I know I was born for great things! I will not stray from that which I've dreamt of, because unlike yur I'd rather lie a corse than kiss the feet of lesser men!

And if such it beyond my reach, If my fall be long and painful, I will not regret it! For I have reached for heights most men dare not even look to without fear! And when I look into the eyes of those who smite me I will laugh! I will do so because I, even as a broken shell, defy them and their belief that a man's will is not enough to make giants quake!

You disgust me! A life of bootlicking might suit you, but I will seek the fate I make for myself, or perish in attempt!"

He laughs proudly, gone mad with his own unshakable self-belief.

"....and it is my drive and my ambition that attracted the attention of such a powerful person......they whose backing I have are no mere whelp themselves...."

[ilinares]

The display wobbles slightly in place, but remains upright, the array of goods combined with the solid timber construction simply too weighty to be moved by the scholarly elf.

The thug crouching behind the display is moved, however, swallowing visibly as he listens to Spiras's words and stares at the remains of his comrade, which slump to the floor with a sickening thud.

"Yeah," he says hoarsely. "Yeah, maybe we can talk about this..."

His friend, on the other hand, is not so easily convinced. Charging towards Louis Styles, he lunges with his blade - still dripping with the gnome's blood - but Louis's bow sweeps up, knocking the thug's arm aside as the ranger spins in place, one hand reaching for his sword.

But the ranger has forgotten for a second the woman in the other building, and he is forcefully reminded as a pair of incandescent bolts of crimson energy slam into his body, tearing through his armour and pummeling the flesh beneath with enough force to crack ribs.

Spoiler: Damage

Show

7 force damage on Louis Styles.

Mallet takes in these new developments with a sweep of his impassive gaze, and then is moving again. Probability calculations whir through his mind, as he seeks the optimum tactic to resolve the situation; measuring the distance along the shortest path to the man attacking Louis Styles, and calculating the speed with which he could cover that distance, he refocuses on the man who seems on the verge of surrender - his lack of a ranged weapon ruling out for the moment the enemy in the other building.

Seeming to ignore Spiras's plea, he strikes out at the thug with his greathammer...

Spoiler: Rolls

Show

(1d20+1)[7]
To confirm crit if relevant: (1d20+1)[8]
Nonlethal damage on hit (1d12+6)[12]
Extra nonlethal damage on critical hit (1d12+6)[18]

...but the thug twists out of the way behind the display, swearing profusely. "Call off your metal man! I want to surrender!"

[Sgt. Suitable]

The hurt is instant. He wants to curse or scream but can only produce a flat grunt from his sudden battered chest. The wind knocked out of him, he drops to one knee to keep from falling over completely. His vision was blurred and gone for a split-second but luckily his eyes refocus and he sees the thug within striking distance.
His hand still around his longsword he draws it out of its sheath and slashes with it in the same movement. He then makes a headroll away from the thug.

Maxwell, who picks up the sound of his master making noises unbecoming of himself, turns around and bolts towards the thug. Teeth first.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Quick draw, attack, 5ft step back

Attack: (d20+2)[3]
Damage: (d8+1)[7]
+fire damage? Rolling just in case: (d6)[1]

Maxwell attack: (d20+4)[14]
Damage: [roll]d4+[/roll]
+fire: (d6)[3]

[ilinares]

Louis's breath hisses out between his teeth as the effort of lifting his swordarm pulls at his fractured ribs, and the blade falls short of his opponent - but in that moment, his dog appears, tearing into the hamstrings of the attacker and coming away with bloody flesh between its teeth.

The swordsman screams, struggling to turn to meet this new danger.

Spoiler: Initiative

Show

Paedrig, then Phyrra

[redzimmer]

Paedrig

"Mr. Styles, I hope you are not mortally injured," the scholar says, pointing a finger at his assailant.

"αυτό θα βλάψει" he says, a nimbus of light coalescing around him. "Drop your weapon, brigand! The longer you hesitate, the worse your suffering shall be."