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As she walks the perimeter in ever widening circles, the dainty, deadly one comes up to her and begins asking questions. "Uh..Mel....Mel's fine. Um. Uh-huh. Oh. Ah...a little fishing village....west of ah......Stonemarch Mountains. Family's been there a while.....seven generations. I'm the first to really..leave. I just couldn't stay, you know? I heard the calling of..a bigger world, one where the fish in the sea were only one aspect of the great flow of Melora's tide. Since stepping my feet upon the path from home, I've experienced things untold even by the story weavers of our village! I...um..." Mel catches herself getting lost in conversation, the first time that's happened since leaving the comfort of her village. Viola has a very relaxing effect on the goliath. She gives a small smile for this little gift, but rededicates herself to checking for hazards and searching the area. "Tell me more about the Darkhaven Gardens."
"A fishing village? I never would have guessed, Mel; you hold yourself with such poise and confidence -- not that a fisher shouldn't have confidence, of course. Ah, but the Gardens -- they are a very special place. You see, in the beginning of the town, one of the prominent families planted an exquisite rise in the center of Darkhaven. (It was the Silentshades, though there is nothing silent about them! They will talk your ear off about nothing and, oh yes, the garden) Anyway, after the Silentshades made the first move it quickly became a tradition -- like a War of Roses I suppose -- where one family after the other tried to create the perfect flower. The gardens began to grow and spread as more and more flowers were planted, and now we have an absolutely astonishing rose garden at the center of town. Breathtaking." Viola hardly stops for breath as she talks on, making round with Mel. She dorsnt seem interested in securing the perimeter, and spends most of her concentration avoiding low-hanging branches and skipping around pools of murky nastiness.
"Perhaps someday you will be able to come see it yourself, Mel." she smiles easily at her companion.
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Thanks Gigi Digi for the avatar.
Satisfied that the area is secure, Mel settles herself down for a rest, thankful that the Fey's watch will allow her some slumber. She nods off wondering what happened to the wearer of the armor. Not seeing any sign of foul play was not very reassuring. He may be alive but what would get him to remove his armor voluntarily? She fades into sleep, dreaming of puppet-masters and shadowy figures.
After a few hours (but still well before dawn) Bugbear wakes with a shiver. He has certainly woken up in stranger places, but age, battle, and the cold dampness of the swamp have left him stiff, sore, and uncomfortable.
"mmfghrumbbllrrrgghhh..."
Bugbear knows that he won't be able to sleep any longer, so he gets up and tries (as quietly as he can) to gather some dry tinder and start a small fire. Looking around at his allies, he sees Melhved, Wolfen, and Wilian sleeping close by, Viola perched on a log, cross-legged and eerily still.
Spoiler
This is all just fluff RP, so it's up to you guys if you want to use these rolls; but hey, let's see how Bugbear does:
Stealth (1d20+3)[19] to try and not wake up the rest of you.
Nature (1d20+3)[9] to gather wood and make a fire.
Having observed her companions' during the night, meditating on their various eccentricities, Viola is moderately surprised by Wolfen's latest oddity. Certainly, these mortals were... Energetic.
She opens an eye and looks at the campsite from her perch lazily, curious what was coming next.
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Thanks Gigi Digi for the avatar.
Wilian was woken up abruptly by Wolfenīs call to arms, springing to position with his staff raining little harmless blue sparks everywhere, and stumbling into the dragonīs carcass. "Zzzzzz... Buh? Wha? Attack? Attack! Where? Aaah! No, Iīm being eaten... by... a dead dragon missing a head."
Completely awake, Wilian went to help Bugbearīs attempts to make a fire by briefly sparking the wood and tinder around lit.
"So, how was the night, everyone?"
Spoiler
Cast Presdigitation into Bugbearīs fire to lit it when he finishes gathering the neccesary materials.
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Bugbear concentrates with all his might, eyebrows tight, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth, trying to build a little tee-pee out of the dry twigs he gathered; like he remembers from childhood. Just as he leans the last tiny stick against the pile of tinder...
Quote:
Originally Posted by thereaper
"We're under attack!"
Bugbear's huge hands reflexively snap closed, crushing the stick pile. He jumps up, fists at the ready, head whipping around looking for the threat.
"Fight!! Bring it on! Let's go! I'll crush ya! I'll..."
"..."
Seeing nothing, Bugbear looks at Wolfen with a quizzical raised eyebrow.
Mel rolls to her left as she draws her sword with her right, flashing here eyes in all directions looking for what could cause such an uproar this early. Seeing nothing she listen's to Melora's tune for clues. Hearing the naught but Mother's sweet song she relaxes slightly when she sees her teammates are up and unharmed.
"Hmm...Twelve seconds. Not great, but better than I expected. If this had been a real ambush, Willian would probably have two swords in his chest, but he wouldn't be dead and digested, at least."
"Since you're all up, I suppose we might as well get ready to go. Viola, keep up the good work for another few minutes. Willian, prepare your arcane whatsawhosits. Melhved, help Bugbear with that fire. He seems to be having a bit of trouble."
Viola smiles to herself as she gets up and smoothes out her skirts, picks up her parasol, and looks ready to go shopping ... Or adventuring in a stinky, slimy, wet, humid swamp.
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Thanks Gigi Digi for the avatar.
"Sir, yes sir!" Said Wilian, while standing half-jokingly like the village guards on his hometown when standing post. "All spells and enchantments ready to deploy!"
In his hand, the spellbook glowed blue, coloring known runes and diagrams, and perhaps unknown ones too.
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Wolfen misses the fact that Willian is making a joke. He also takes a moment to write an entry into his journal.
Spoiler
Joined an adventuring party. Good thing, too. They need someone to whip them into shape.
Bugbear: Grappler. Strong but not too smart. Good for anything requiring muscles or blows to the head, bad for anything requiring brains or subtlety.
Melhved: Strong yet subservient. Tough yet aware. Easily the most competent of the group. Appears to suffer from a speech impediment of some sort.
Willian: Typical Wizard. Wasted his gods-given talents to learn magic in an ivory tower, when a little more time in the real world would have given him more practical knowledge. Nevertheless, he has his uses.
Viola: She's good at what she does, but something feels off about her. Is it because she's nobility? Because she's a little too willing to kill? Something else? Hard to say.
So far we've killed a dragon (if it had been just a little less selfish and moronic, we might have let it live, too), and today we'll be trying to rescue some hostages.
Fully roused and ready for the day, Mel secures her belongs, tidies her sleep area, and stands ready to move on for the day. She begins looking for signs of where the path to the savage's village may lie.
Bugbear, still grumpy from a poor night's rest, stands and stretches out the kinks in his spine, leaning far back with his hands on his hips and a loud yawn on his face. The brawler's back cracks with the sound of a long dead tree splitting in a windstorm. Shaking like a wet dog to wake up the rest of his muscles, Bugbear throws on his pack (checking to make sure Krakkael's head is still securely wrapped and tied down) and starts following Melhved further into the woods.
Sidling up to his young friend Wilian, Bugbear pats him congenially (if a bit too enthusiastically) on the back. "That was quite a thing you did back there with that overgrown iguana! I thought I was gonna end up a broiled Bugbear when your magic bonfire light up all around me, but once I realized I wasn't the one getting cooked, woooo-BOY that was fun! You had that lizard squirming like... well... like he was on fire!" Bugbear roars with laughter. "I had a hell of a time keeping a grip on him, 'specially with that nasty breath of his. Wheee-ew... you're lucky you stayed back where you did. I'm gonna smell that thing in my hair for a week!"
Mel half smiles at her new friends arrival. Concentrating on finding a direction, she scans the underbrush, searching for signs of passage, footprints, changes in nature's favored path, anything. The dragon had dragged itself up from the bog, its distinctive footprints leaving obvious divots, but the giant lizardmen had wandered around. Finding their initial path of entry would take a little work. Mel points out some footprints to Viola, speaking quietly,"Lizardmen passed by here, but I'm having trouble finding their trail. Can you see anything?"
Squinting in the early dawn sunlight, Viola peers about. "They all look the same to me, I'm afraid, but perhaps there is a rather large cluster off this way? Is that what we're looking for?" She indicates a spot in the soft ground that is particularly trampled.
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Thanks Gigi Digi for the avatar.
Wilian rubs his back, aching from Bugbearīs pat. "Just how much strenght does this man have?" He thinks to himself.
""Jeah, I saw the particular brand of bad breath he had, and Iīm happy about being far from that as well. Hey, Wolfen! How much time do you figure we have before the little guys discover their big boss has gone missing?
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Finally finding telltale marks in the mud that lead off in an obvious direction, Mel calls, "Um.. I think there's.....ah...some footprints, tracks ....uh....this ....here. Over here.....come." Turning and breathing deeply, she shakes her head to clear the sweat from her eyes. "Dragons, nothing. Talking, fear." She begins trudging through the swamp in the direction the tracks came from. Eyes sweeping left and right, she watches for new signs, hazards, and slithery beasty things.
In Krakkael's treasure hoard Bugbear had found a heavy, leather-padded iron helmet with two large curved boar tusks running down the side, pointing forward at the jawline, and two smaller tusks curving up from the forehead. Between the massive tusks and the thick iron, this helmet felt like you could charge head-first through a castle wall! Who knows what creature wore such a thing before falling to the dragon, but it fit Bugbear's gigantic head perfectly (and only smelled a little of it's previous owner).
Spoiler
Boar Tusk Helm - Level 7+ Uncommon Your enemies are but standing obstacles through which you can rush.
Head Slot Property
Gain a gore attack while wearing this helmet: an unarmed weapon with +2 proficiency bonus to attack rolls and deals 1d10 damage. The wearer gains proficiency with this weapon. The gore attack has a +2 enhancement bonus to attack rolls and damage rolls. This attack counts as a melee basic attack. Power Daily (Free Action)
Trigger: You hit with a weapon at the end of a charge.
Effect: The target takes extra damage equal to your Strength modifier, and you push the target 1 square and knock it prone.
Surviving the battles in the swamp, in particular dealing with Krakkael and his toxic breath, toughened up the old grappler even more.
Spoiler
Superior Fortitude Prerequisite: Strength 15 or Constitution 15 Benefit: You gain a +2 feat bonus to Fortitude.
You also gain resist 3 to ongoing damage.
The village of Helmaren was having trouble with some swamp creatures and missing people. Some brave souls stepped forward to meet the challenge! BUGBEAR BOULDER
WILLIAN FIELDERSON
MELHVED BROMBRIAR
and the rest (Shaderage, Krivesh).
Their journey took its toll but new heroes entered the fray. WOLFEN HOUNDOG
VIOLA DARKBOUGH
Together, they not only slayed the dragon of the swamp, but tracked down the evil village, performed all sorts of heroicy things, destroyed some, saved others, and returned mostly victorious to Helmaren.
As the sun rises on the cool summer morning, not a soul stirs, not a sound is heard. Small fires still burn in the streets where only a few bodies lay, some in strange, twisted positions, some in gentle repose. Bottles, casks, broken crates, and furniture litter the empty streets. Festoons of colored paper and bouquets of flowers are singed with ash and strewn about the town square as if tossed by some great malestrom. A lone, riderless horse walks the main byway, stopping to eat from an overturned wagon that had been laden with a farmer's bounty. An air of stillness floats over the spent town.
The party had been EPIC.
Those that survived the night might have flashes of memories. The victorious return. The good news tinged with bad. The sudden celebration. The wine, the mead. A handsome young man creating fantastical shapes from fire and pyrotechnics until his third mug of dwarven ale when things began to blur and catch fire. A petite drow dancing the night away with a variety of young suitors. A grumble throated, battle-worn solider slurring recounts of his heroic to all that would listen. The drunken, giant man who challenged a horse and wagon to wrestle and won. A goliath woman off in the corner consoling the town butcher about his son and later sneaking of with him into the night. The rest of the evening, as they say, was a blank.
Viola's head was spinning. The drink she had imbided last night -- what was it called? Shining Moon? No, Moonshine. -- had not agreed with her. Large parts of her night were blurry, and she woke from her deep trance to a disaster scene she could scarcely believe.
Carefully, the Drow woman picked herself up and, wobbling slightly, made her way outside of the inn. The sunlight would do wonders for her clarity of thought.
She looks for a shady area to brush her hair and get herself a bit more presentable -- after all, she is above all else a practical girl.
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Thanks Gigi Digi for the avatar.
Radiel sighs at the disheveled appearance of the temple grounds following the party - vomit-soaked rags and bits of shattered glass litter the ground. First, to avoid this happening further, he thought, I should clear the alleyways of ruffians.
Radiel begins scanning the nearby back roads and alleys for any signs of partygoers, eventually noticing a droven woman examining them as well. He approaches her and, for lack of a better word, looms over her before speaking. "Ah, you are helping with clean-up as well," Radiel offers impassively. "Perhaps you could tell me what occurred here last night?"
__________________ HOMEBREW The Panelemental Construct - A memorable boss encounter for characters levels 14-17 The Projector - A class capable of punching people from across a room. Among other things. The Card Shark - A chance-based PrC that wields a Deck of Battle to fill any role in a party (Currently competing in PrC Contest XXXIV).
The petite Drow lady twirls her parasol lazily as she squints up at the gentleman who approaches her. "It would appear that there was a party..." she murmers nonchalantly. "I am Viola Darkbough, and I'm afraid I don't recognize you from... Last night. What is your name, and why bother yourself with cleaning up another's mess? I am certain the servants will get to it once they awaken from their drunken stupor." she quickly finds her tongue.
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Thanks Gigi Digi for the avatar.
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