DeepBlue's Vagabond - Act 1

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

Flare smiles gently. What it is... is someone who doesn't appreciate a friendly effort to be included. He places the star back in his pocket, but not before admonishing it. And how the hell could I have misspelled your name, I said it, I didn't write it.

[Deepblue706]

"Yeah, that's what you think." replies Zardulox. "Damn smart-talkin' prissy-pants..."

"Anyway," The knight seems to have lost his patience. "I think it is clear that the robes are for concealing the true nature of Magistrate Thaddeus' servants. I would suggest we wait for nightfall, but I can only wonder if the fiend releases his darker creations once the sun is set. Also, it would be difficult to know if we were running towards or away from their patrols." He waits a moment. "I think we're best with a blitz towards the keep. Atop our horses, we can remain swift enough to elude the creatures in the field, and grant less time for the magistrate to prepare for our attack. Should he spot us now, and we wait to act, we could easily fall prey to a devious trap."

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

Wait for nightfall? Lord, we can't see anything at night either. Well... I'm pretty sure that I'm not the only one that can't. At night it will be even easier to fall into a trap, and harder to fight if we have to do it outdoors. No... going straight for the keep is the right idea, but we need to do it now. We'll use the buildings in town for cover if we can, but if we are in danger of being discovered, then waiting around is just going to make it worse. Besides, if we get surrounded by walking corpses, the horses will spook and we'll all fall off and break our necks. I'd rather do that during daylight.

[Deepblue706]

"Glad we're in agreement, then." Titus offers Flare a nod. "What of the rest of you? Any reasonable objections? This is the time to speak up." He glances to the rest of the party members.

[Ya Ta Hey!]

Len, taken aback, stares at the eerily still figures. While at first, she merely sees people dressed in unusual manner, the collective air of lifelessness begins to concern her. Its no stretch to envision decaying corpses, once-innocent people reduced to horrifying, ravenous monsters, under those cloaks.

Nonetheless, she remains stubbornly rooted and takes out the spyglass; the Medician courts will not sympathize with the emotional impact of this or that spectacle, just the facts.

Spot: what's under them hoods? (1d20)[11]

Annoyed, she offers the spyglass elsewhere "Who's got good eyes?"

[amanodel]

Shimar

Let's get going already! - he says, and heads towards the vilalge - If they are zombies, we've got slightly better chances in daylight, if they are just normal farmers in a silly dress, it's all the same. Maybe if they are some kinda monk, or simply lepers.

Besides - he adds - I would like to have a good pint of ale, and my only chance is that there is a tavern in this god-forsaken village.

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

Flare doesn't follow Shimar immediately. Instead he glances toward the others with a distant look on his face. How can he think about ale at a time like this?

[Proven_Paradox]

The orc druid takes the spyglass offered by Len and tries to get a look at the figures under the hood as well. While he looks, he says, "My wounds are not healed. Allow me a minute to tend to them before we charge. Are any others injured still?"

Once he reports what (if anything) he sees from the spyglass, he will cast Lesser Vigor on himself.

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Spot: (1d20+7=18)

I'mma just prepare three lesser vigors today. That'll heal 12 HP over two minutes. Anyone else need a casting?

If I'm doin' it right, that casting bring Drahlo up to 15/16 HP.

[amanodel]

Shimar

Overhearing Flare's comment, the brute of a barbarian turns his head back, and winks.

The other thing would be the lasses, but if the people are turned into zombies, I would't advice getting to intimate! - he laughs - But I've never heard about zombie ale, I tell ya!

[Deepblue706]

Len can't really determine much from the spyglass. She does notice something "off", however, as birds and other animals seem to keep a large distance from them.

Drahlo, however, does notice that upon looking at the hooded figures through the spyglass, that their bare hands are a bit pale and discolored. Unfortunately, there is nothing else he can determine.

Then, invoking the power of the nature gods, the orc further heals the wounds he was given yesterday, and he noticably looks to be far more vigorous than earlier.

[Deepblue706]

Titus rests his hand upon the hilt of his sword, resting in a scabbard he holds on his belt. He gazes to the foreboding keep in the distance, his face blank, void of any emotion. "Remember - straight for the keep. Should alarums be made and the doors be barred, you needn't worry. I have the tools to get us inside, and he cannot house enough soldiers to pose us much a threat. Keep your wits about you, and stay as a group, and we will be fine." He draws his sword. "Are we ready to move?"

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

Ready sir. Flare tips his hat and his eyes briefly shine as though they were pools of water that had reflected the sun.

[Deepblue706]

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Okay, enough dilly-dallying. Time to get things rolling.

"Let's move out. Keep a fair pace until we are close - then we'll rush for the keep. If we charge immediately, they'll know what we mean to do, immediately, and we'll tire out our horses too soon." Titus urges his horse forward, and begins down the road at brisk gallop. For a while, you follow at this pace, with little problem. The dog, Whisper, manages to keep up as well.

For a bit, you follow at this pace, and you pass a few clusters of the strange, robed figures. They mostly ignore you, although a few do seem to stare.

Passing a wheat field to your left, you begin to see the edge of the village in slightly more detail. While you can see a few people in the distance, they're quite small, and indistinct.

The figures in the fields do not give chase - however, they do seem to watch from a distance. After some hesitation, a few among them call out to those at the watch towers, though their language is hard to place - from this distance, it sounds like nothing more than grunting.

Bells begin to ring, and more grunts are yelled, although you spot no activity near the keep. However, you can notice, at this distance, a few people in the town scurrying about, clearing the streets and heading indoors. As you near the base of the hill, upon which the keep stands, the village begins to look void of inhabitants. Everything outside looks to have been abandoned. It is not look neglected or necessarily poor - in fact, those among you to have gone to Epeschel note this village is in far-greater shape.

"Now, as one! To the keep!" Commands Titus, pointing his sword to the large wood doors that make the entranceway, at the top of the winding path up the hill. His steed carries him at an amazing pace, its tenacity seemingly fueled by its rider's fervor. It is a struggle for your horses to keep up - and even moreso for Whisper. The dog does not give up, however, and continues to follow swiftly as you make your charge.

The keep itself is of an old design, somewhat like a bailey castle -small fortresses that are known to have held things common to many towns, such as a chapel, a stable, and a blacksmith's workshop - and the walls served as great protection for nearby villagers. Its walls are thick and a dull color, and appear weathered, but are surely far from crumbling. A tower stands at each corner of the keep, although no one seems to man any of them. The entrance appears to have fitted a portcolis, but it appears to be completely absent (and not simply raised). You also spot a guardhouse, just a few feet from the keep's entrance. A young man stands outside it, loading an odd-looking crossbow as you near. He has undoubtedly heard the alarms, seen your approach, and will undoubtedly try to stand his ground, at about a hundred paces away. He remains within arm's reach of the guardhouse door as he loads his weapon.

[Ya Ta Hey!]

OOC:Yeahya

Len, looking a little relieved at the ease of their approach, leans forward in the saddle and draws her bow. She has little experience with cavalry warfare, but she may never get around to using upthese arrows otherwise.

Bucking and jostling, she draws back and lines up a shot on the guard's chest before releasing the arrow with a hissing snap.

Attack: Gary the Guard: 1d20+ BAB+ DEX - Mounted Running Penalty:
(1d20-3)[-1]

Damage: (1d6)[5]

[Proven_Paradox]

Drahlo, still visibly ill-at-ease with the situation, peers intently at the man aiming at them, trying to determine whether or not there is anything unusual (read: undead) about him.

Spot: (1d20+7=19)

[Deepblue706]

The man seems quite normal, at least, from what you can see. He wears a chain hauberk and a padded coif for armor - his face is bare and doesn't appear off. His reflexes seem to be in-order (which the undead so often lack), as he anticipates Len's shot, ducking a bit, despite the arrow coming nowhere near him. As the party nears, Len notes the man carries a sophisticated Guilderan weapon - a repeating crossbow. He fires a shot, which goes astray, and then hesitates a moment before retreating to inside the guardhouse. He re-emerges at a window, and appears to re-aim from a position of cover.

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Not logged onto my computer at the moment - I'll have a map up tomorrow.

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

Len stop it! Remember what Claudius said! We can't kill anyone yet! His eyes flash to the guard in the tower. Rest thy weary guard!

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Cast sleep at about the time Len is cocking back her arrow. Concentration DC 10 for vigorous movement or 15 for violent movement. Save DC is 15.

Concentration - (1d20+7)[16]

[Ya Ta Hey!]

As the arrow sails awry, Len's concentration breaks enough to register what Flare said.

Say what?

"That was just a warning shot...yeah..." she responds, a little sheepish at letting her attack mindset cloud her judgement. However, this wouldn't be the first time; her dual backgrounds in law and war are often in conflict.

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OOC: good thing that didn't hit, then

[Deepblue706]

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Nevermind about that map...

As the party continues to ride forward, Flare casts an enchantment upon the guard, and he quickly falls into a slumber. Surprisingly, no other guards come to aid him. You are free to approach the keep with no trouble.

As you noticed earlier, the portcolis is completely absent, and there is nothing barring you from entering the outer courtyard. It is a small courtyard, possessing a few small buildings, including a shrine dedicated to Faharam and a few neglected buildings that would appear to have been used to house servants.

Before you stands a pair of twin, wooden doors, bordered in a black metal, standing about ten feet tall. Above, there are a few windows, from which you can't spot anything other than blackness, within. There is an eiree silence around you - even the bells have ceased to ring. There are no distant shouts of soldiers arming themselves, or even bird calls. Just the occassional howl of the wind.

"Fortunate that the portcolis is up - or rather, not here," Titus says. "I know not why it's gone, but it is clearly the hand of God himself, aiding us in this holy task." He looks toward the entrance to the keep itself. "First, let us check that guard for keys."

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

Flare smiles as if he knows something that no one else does. I think God might have more subtlety than you give him credit for. I'm more curious about how it happened than to whose advantage it is.

Flare takes a few steps toward the keep, but stops purposely. Right, the keys. He reaches for his saddlebag and retrieves a bundle of rope, which he passes to Len. Would you tie him up Len? I want to question him.

[Proven_Paradox]

Drahlo reigns in his horse and dismounts, stroking the beast's neck gently and whispering something into its ear. He seems uninterested in the conversation about the keep's defenses, obviously more concerned about the lack of wildlife in the area. "No birds... Odd."

[amanodel]

Shimar

The barbarian is a tad bit disappointed by the cancelled fight, and the missing ale, but he keeps those thoughts to himself.

While the others look for the keys, he examines the door to decide how hard it would be to break it.

[Deepblue706]

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Those who cannot respond within 80 hours shall be subject to my whims!

"Right." agrees Len, as she takes the rope. "Question him? I hope you mean for later." comments Titus, who stands beside Shimar at the doors. "Lucian!" he turns for a moment to gaze at the man standing idle. "Grab the keys while Len is tying him up. No time to waste. The magistrate is mustering his defenses as we speak - I can feel it..." The small man complies, quickly digging through the guard's belongings as Len begins to tie his legs.

Shimar's inspection of the door leaves him confident he could break it down with the proper equipment - a small ram would be in order. Although, with enough determination, an axe would do the job for the hulking wildman. While the doors are not flimsy, they simply do not appeared to be made to ward against any real assault.

Harold, aside, keeps a lookout. Whisper stands at his side, whimpering a little bit. Over the fields, the two spot a few pockets of the hooded figures, slowly approaching the keep. While the threat is not immediate, Harold gathers it would be wise for the party to move about its business with no further delay.

"No keys." says Lucian. "He doesn't have any on him."

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

Now why would you think a foolish thing like that? Flare follows after Len but stops and glances back to Titus. Get out your standard. I want everyone who sees you to know exactly who you are. He gives the man a few rough slaps and kneels down, staring at him. What's going on here? What's happened to this place? Answer me!

[Proven_Paradox]

"No keys?" Here, Drahlo seems even more perplexed, and moves to the door, and tries to open it without force. (I.E. if there's a knob, he tries turning it. Both ways.)

[amanodel]

Shimar

As the people slowly start to advance upon them, Shimar takes his throwing axe in order to force the door open, if it wouldn't open otherwise.

[Deepblue706]

The guardsman groans as Flare wakes him with a few smacks. "What?" He hesitates a moment, seemingly not understanding Flare's question. "What do you mean? Don't kill me! Take whatever you want!"

"Waste no time with him, Flare. He knows the wrath of the righteous, and will spurt any words he must to save his own neck." declares Titus, who then turns to watch Drahlo as he tries to open the door. Unfortunately, it's locked.

As Shimar goes for his axe, Titus intervenes. "That'll take too long as well. As I said, I have the tools to get us to the necromancer's lair - I only hoped I would not have to use them so soon."

Titus reaches into a case that he holds at his side, and retrieves a worn scroll. Muttering the words that echo in the wind, Titus makes a few gestures with one hand, and a strange aura appears around him. There is a creaking in the wood of the door, and the wind suddenly dies. The door opens a couple of inches, and Titus drops the scroll to the ground - nothing but a blank piece of paper.

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

Titus, says Flare without taking his eyes off the guard. Shut up and get out your standard. Anyone who sees us needs to know who we are.

Listen, says Flare softly. I don't make a habit of killing helpless prisoners. Raising his voice, he continues. But that doesn't mean you can just play dumb! This town is crawling with zombies, and there aren't any townsfolk in sight. When we approached the gate you aimed a weapon at a paladin carrying out his duty to the kingdom. Explain yourself! What's going on?! A sudden gust of wind that seems to originate from Flare himself blows off his veiled surmac. His hair flies in the wind, glowing pure white along with his mystic eyes. Answer me! Now!

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Activating Celestial Sorcerer Aura, burning a 0-level spell. Will Save DC 14 or take a -2 penalty on attack rolls, saves, and checks for 24 hours or until he successfully strikes me in combat. This includes a level check to resist intimidate, speaking of which...

Intimidate - (1d20+6)[9]

[Deepblue706]

"The alarms rang! You charged in on horseback! Everyone ran inside! What do you want me to say?!" The guard screams back, desperately. He looks away from Flare, possibly for help from others nearby, but he eventually gives up. "What the hell do you want?!" he screams again.

Titus hesitates upon hearing Flare's command, if only because of the tone, but eventually agrees as he moves to his horse and draws his standard from a pack. He unravels it, and puts it upon a pike. Planting it into the ground, it stands high, but the now-dead winds do not seem to carry it.

Lucian, seeming to grow a bit impatient, moves in beside Flare. "Where the hell is the Magistrate? He inside?" The guard turns to him. "You needn't worry about finding the Magistrate - he'll find you! And when he does, you'll all be put into manacles, and thrown away into a dungeon to rot! You hear me? To rot!"

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
Harold snaps his fingers triumphantly.
"Edmund! That was his name! Damnedst thing," he continues, "I was trying to remember the name of that fishmonger I used to go to, but I- Hello, we've moved."
Harold looks around, a little puzzled.
"Oh. Right."
Tracing his chin thoughtfully with a long finger, Harold asks the guard.
"I realize this may seem like an odd question, but how would you rate the inhabitants of this particular fief? Lively? Not-so-lively? Inert?"