In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 381):

The Campsite

The remaining swordsman looks around himself, suddenly significantly outnumbered.  He throws down his swords and raises his hands, nudging the ally who was just subjected to Boreas's assault to do the same.

The two archers fish themselves out of pond, bows forgotten on the ground near the western path as they join the swordsmen in submission.

~~ End Combat ~~

[Private to Boreas Highwind: The gem feels a little cooler now, purring softly in the back of your mind.]

Ding!  Maeve, Lyriel, and Boreas have reached Level 2!  Please update your sheets accordingly.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:13, Mon 30 Sept 2013.

As soon as the last of the blackbands flees the clearing, Maeve drops her aggressive stance and sags to the ground near the campfire, too inordinately weary to do anything more productive.  She ruefully takes stock of her various injuries.

I don't suppose the goddess would be able to do anything about. . . . .? she gestures at her wounds, addressing Lyriel, then thinks better of it.  No, probably not.  You look nearly as done in as me.  Maybe Tassada will be willing to grant some of her healing energies come morning.

She shoots Boreas a hard glare.

"I will stay out of sight until they show themselves?!"  I tell you Boreas Highwind: if I had perished, I would have personally haunted you for the rest of your days for that little stunt."

Maeve wraps herself in her cloak, wincing a little and muttering to herself.

And they say chivalry is dead.  Too right.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:16, Mon 30 Sept 2013.

I would provide a more biting retort, but you'll have to forgive me.  I was a bit distracted by the green energy shooting from my eye.  Still, I hid myself to catch them off guard, and it worked.  Pity they had more focus than I would have assumed.

He steps toward one of the quivering bandits whose hands are still thrust into the air.  The bandit makes tiny backpedaling steps away from him.

Stand still, just removing any other weapons you might have.

Boreas takes the blackarm's possessions, then moves to the next one, picking up their discarded swords and slipping them into his pouch.

Still, I think I might have something for you. he says, reaching into the pouch and extracting a small, round flask filled with bubbling red liquid.

Bottoms up!  This should do the trick.

He hands the bottle to Maeve.

You lot there in the water!  Come on up.  Surrender yourselves peacefully and we will do you no harm.  Resist, and you've seen what will happen.

Looking back to Maeve and Lyriel, he adds, Don't worry, we'll divvy up the spoils once we have everyone secured.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:31, Mon 30 Sept 2013.

Maeve accepts and drinks the red potion [HP:9]

Right, about the green energy.  Is that something that, um, happens often?

Thank you, by the way, for the healing draught.  You didn't have to do that.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:13, Tue 01 Oct 2013.

Nonsense, I'll just take it out of my cut of the spoils. he says with a smirk.

As for the eyebeams, it doesn't happen very often.  Never, actually.  It was like some kind of door opened in my mind, a door something had been knocking at for quite some time.  It's connected to this - he points to the gem - somehow, but I'm not entirely sure how just yet.

Side note:  As the party rounds up the Blackarm, Boreas relieves any that surrender of their gear, collects their discarded weapons, and retrieves Maeve's torch, returning it to her.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:54, Tue 01 Oct 2013.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 386):

The Campsite

The four Blackarms sit miserably near the bank of the pond, singed, scraped, and bruised, but otherwise no worse for the wear.  Their equipment sits in a pile off to one side, having received a thorough going-over by Boreas while Maeve and Lyriel rest and tend to their wounds.

These Blackarms are equipped identically to those you defeated before, with a total of 70 golden pieces among them along with four short bows, six short swords, and about three dozen arrows, four of which are marked with white fletching instead of the traditional black.

The Southern Path

The whimpering continues, growing louder and more pronounced with each passing moment.  Now that you've identified the sound, it's difficult to ignore.  Or is it getting closer?
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:21, Tue 01 Oct 2013.

In reply to DM (msg # 387):

Without a sound, Sir Giles darts off toward the whimpering.

"Shep! Shep! I'm coming boy!"

In reply to Giles Thistleworth (msg # 388):

The Southern Path

The three of you set off toward the sound of the whimpering, Giles bounding ahead at an impressive pace.  The path winds and twists as it weaves its way down a steep decline, until you finally reach the source of the whimpering: small cave tucked into the underside of the hill you just descended.

A most disturbing scene awaits your curious eyes at the mouth of the cave: a wolf laying helplessly on its side against the stone walls, whimpering softly as a small, toad-like quadraped dances awkwardly in front of it.  As you watch, it leans closer to the wolf and sinks its teeth into its flank, causing the animal to yelp sharply and then fall silent, motionless.

The creature has two arms, two legs, and two fleshy wings hanging limply from its back.  Its misshapen head looks grotesquely human, though the pallor of its skin is an ashen green and its nose is rather pig-like.  Your approach does not go unnoticed, and the thing turns its beady eyes in your collective direction before flashing an awful grin that's missing quite a few teeth.

Giles recognizes the wounded animal immediately and draws his bow in what can only be preparation for a righteous drubbing.  "Shep!"

The creature, for its part, ambles deeper into the cave, dragging the unmoving wolf unceremoniously behind it - though with some difficulty, given how much larger the wolf is in relation to itself.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:49, Tue 01 Oct 2013.

Zuriel draws his sword, looking at their misshapen adversary in disgust. "What in the hells is that thing?!" he cries, preparing to do battle.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 390):

Keef looks to both Zuriel and Giiles for guidance and seeing their preparations, raises his waster.

Chubbs makes a low chortling noise, and Keef mutters something under his breath both unintelligible and strange.

A reddish sheen wavers around his body for a moment, and then fades from view.

[Mage Armor, +4 AC for Keef and Chubbs]

Sirs, what IS that?  There is no fear in Keef's voice, mostly curiosity and excitement.
This message was last updated by the player at 13:10, Tue 01 Oct 2013.

In reply to Keef (msg # 391):

The Southern Path

[Private to Keef: You can actually make a Knowledge (Arcana) check, if you'd like.  Perhaps you recognize this particular creature...]

With the strange creature seemingly content to remain in the cave with its prize, you are forced to approach the opening yourselves.

Giles tromps toward the opening without a second thought, bow at the ready, followed closely by Zuriel and, at a slight distance, Keef.

The cave is quite shallow, all things considered -- a small chunk carved out of the hillside like a calculated bite taken out of an apple.  It also appears to be inhabited.

The walls are lined with shelves which seem built into the stone itself, each cluttered with vials, jars, and the occasional sheet of parchment.  Dried herbs and the carcasses of various small animals hang from the ceiling.

Luminescent moss and lichens carpet the cavern floor, and a stone table with two benches has been built into the far wall.  On top of this table is a cast-iron cauldron and several beakers, all connected through a series of tubes.  These each contain bubbling liquids of various shades, none of which seem particularly natural.

The overall affect reminds you of a kitchen [Private to Keef: or laboratory], albeit in a far less sterile setting than you'd expect.

The strangest feature is the one that arrests your immediate attention.  Against the far side of the room, between the shelves and the table, two animals lay chained to the wall by iron collars.

The first is a black bear, while the second is the wolf you saw earlier.  Both seem to have sustained puncture wounds in various places, with blood matting their fur, and neither seem to be conscious - though the agonizingly slow rise and fall of their chest indicates that they yet live.

Stranger still, the bear has what appears to be an upside-down flask jammed into the back of its neck, half-filled with a sparkling liquid.

The toad-like thing is hopping around near the animals, flapping its fleshy wings uselessly as it takes advantage of your slackjawed expressions to click the wolf's collar into place.  It then turns to face you, flashing another hideous grin, but utters no sound whatsoever.  Instead, it points insistently toward the cave's exit with one of its fingers.

Whatever this place is, the creature clearly wants you to leave it.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:49, Tue 01 Oct 2013.

Zuriel blinks, repulsed by the hideous creature. "Whatever this thing is, it has Shep, and it is thoroughly evil. "

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 393):

"Vile fiend!  That is no mere wolfhound you hold helpless in your lair -- 'tis Shep, faithful companion of that same Sir Giles Thistleworth who now stands before you.  Unhand my four-legged compatriot immediately, or face the magnanimous might of the People's Champion and his courageous allies. What say you?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:29, Tue 01 Oct 2013.

In reply to Giles Thistleworth (msg # 394):

The creature seems to consider these words for a moment, then shambles over the wall.  One hop brings him onto Shep's back, and a second brings him to the iron ring that holds the chains in place.

The creature looks over his shoulder at you, cocks his head to one side, and detaches a chain from the wall.  Another hop places it onto the sleeping bear's back, and the thing twists the flask deeper into the bear's neck until it clicks into the place.

The bear awakens with a start, its eyes dead and glossed over like sheets of glass.  Still, its vision seems unimpaired, as it stares straight at you and lets forth a roar tinged with rage and pain.

The toad-like creature gives a comical semblance of a shrug, then pantomimes a throat-slitting gesture.

~~ Initiative! ~~
Giles 20
Keef 19
Zuriel 11
Toad-Like Creature 5
Bear 3
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:44, Tue 01 Oct 2013.

In reply to DM (msg # 395):

The animals of the woods are never an enemy to Sir Giles Thistleworth, and I am woefully unimpressed by your despicable bastardization of this poor creature. Make peace with whomever your maker is vile one, for today you face Sir Giles Thistleworth. He is your judge, your jury, and he has found you wanting, and will serve as your noble executioner.

Obviously overcome by his own adrenaline and anger, Sir Giles arrow flies into the cave, twanging harmlessly at the wall and sending Sir Giles to one knee as his trusty bow leaps impotently from his hands.

[Shoot 5, Crit Fumble, Reflex 9]

"Until there is no blood left in my body will I oppose you, and until there is none left in yours will you know the error of your actions this day"
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:00, Tue 01 Oct 2013.

In reply to Giles Thistleworth (msg # 396):

Keef wiggles his fingers and mutter to himself.  The toad-like creature shakes it's head but seems unaffected.

Keef frowns and pulls out the delicious sandwich.  He eyes the toad creature and whispers 'Nom'.

(OOC: designate the Bear as target for my Dodge feat)
This message was last edited by the player at 16:43, Tue 01 Oct 2013.

**At the Campsite**

Boreas and the ladies secure the bandits, using his rope to tie their hands in a sort of daisy chain.  As dusk begins to fall, they set to sorting and dividing the spoils.

This brings us to an important point.  How exactly are we going about dividing up whatever we find on these little romps that the bard sends us on?  I have a feeling we'll need everything we can get in order to survive, so there's no room for selfishness.  But I'm certainly not in this for my health, on the other hand, and neither are you - he sends a smirk toward Maeve - especially you.

I'd like to replace my healing potion and - he rummages through his bag, producing the small iron orb used to bind Giles - have someone tell me how to work this thing.  Hells, Keef might be able to do it, but I hear those spells cost money.  We can sell off these extra weapons here to help unless someone wants to claim any of them.

Also, any objections to me taking the arrows?
This message was lightly edited by the player at 16:47, Tue 01 Oct 2013.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 398):

In The Cave

The toad-thing stares at the sandwich for a moment, considers it, then puckers its lips into a dismissive raspberry.

[Private to Keef: Great idea to use the sandwich; this thing just happens to be immune to that kind of magic.  It would have been immune to Daze as well.  I really wish you'd have rolled 10+ on that Knowledge check :( The bear, however, is likely far less picky...]

At the Campsite


By all means take what you need to replace the healing potion.  It was lucky that you had one; in the future it would be wise for us to have at least one on hand at all times. Take the arrows as well; you're the only one who uses a bow regularly.

As for the orb, I have no idea how it works but I do have some idea of how much it's worth.  I saw one once in a magic shop in Gaelia--a proper magic shop, not one for cheap conjurers or sleight-of-hand artists Maeve adds as an afterthought.  The one I saw was selling for 20,000 gold.  It's probably worth rather less if we can't figure out how it works, but it would still fetch us a handsome sum.  This last is whispered in an undertone, to prevent their now-submissive foes from realizing just how much money the device is potentially worth.  No sense in their trying to fight for it.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:55, Tue 01 Oct 2013.

Zuriel leaps forward towards the tiny abomination, yelling in defiance and the exhilaration of having finally found a simple, easy to understand battle against a clearly evil foe. His longsword is wreathed in a halo of holy light as it arcs down to deliver the creature a grievous blow.

[Attack Roll (Charge and Smite Evil): 23]

[Damage Roll: 11]

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 401):

Your blade plunges into the toad-thing, flaring with holy energy as it reacts to the tiny creature's base nature.  Despite taking what appears to be significant damage, it utters not a word.

Zuriel being the natural target, standing in his face and holding a sword dripping his bits of his skin, the toad-thing appears more than happy to oblige his zeal for combat by leaping for the paladin's face with his tiny, misshapen teeth.

[Attack: 22 Crit? 20]

The teeth hit home, though they don't seem sharp enough to do much damage.

[Damage: 3]
[Fort Save (Zuriel): 12]

His jubilation at having survived what looked like a solid hit so handily is short-lived, however; poison courses through his veins, and in short order the paladin finds it quite impossible to remain awake.

[Private to Zuriel Silendril: Sleeping Poison: Slumber for 10 rounds (one minute).  Standard action from an ally can awaken you.  You will have to make another saving through in one minute to avoid its secondary effects.]

Zuriel staggers, then falls to the ground, sleeping soundly.

[Private to Giles Thistleworth: You know a lot about animals, and a lot about natural poisons, and you can think of very, very few who can do that.  None, in fact.  You surmise this enemy to be a magical entity of some kind, though not a beast.]

The bear, seeing the paladin out of the fight, advances clumsily toward Giles and takes a swipe at him with his paw.

[Attack: 8]

The heavy blow misses entirely as Giles ducks out of the way with a flourish.

~~ Round 2 ~~
Giles 20
Keef 19
Zuriel 11 (HP:9, Asleep, Prone, Useless)
Toad-Like Creature 5 (HP:4)
Bear 3
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:24, Tue 01 Oct 2013.

"I've no idea what you are, or where you came from foul creature, but you are not the only beast within these woods! NOT BY ANY MEASURE!"

Sir Giles draws his sword and slashes wildy at the toad creature, his blade finding its mark and cutting adeptly into the toothy beast.

(OOC- Pretty unclear where the toad is. I'm technically on one knee, but he technically leapt to Zuriel's face from the bear who is directly in front of me. I'm assuming the toad thing is basically at ground level within 5 feet of me based on previous action descriptions. Correct and allow me to amend at your discretion)

[Slash 15]
[Damage 8]

Keef! Stay back! I'll tame this bear yet!

In reply to Giles Thistleworth (msg # 403):

The toad-thing erupts into a million disjointed pieces of scattered flesh, blood, and ichor at Giles' blow, and an unmistakable crackled of amber energy pulses from its remains for a moment before they grow cold and still.

The bear, however, remains a sizable threat.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:56, Wed 02 Oct 2013.

***Campsite***

As dusk fades into evening, Boreas steps over to the bandits, motioning his comrades to join him, and speaks to them.

Been a rough day for you, I know.  You got kicked out of your commune, mildly singed, lost some of your friends, albeit in an attempt to deprive me of some of mine, and are going to jail.  Still, consider that last part a mercy.  We could let you go, but you would fare worse out there tonight.  The woods are angry. The eye gem glints briefly.

So I want to know.  What did you do?  What did you do to make the spirits of the forest so furious?  Tell me, and it's a lighter sentence in the courts.  Don't, and it's nature's justice.

[Intimidate 6 plus any circumstance bonus for just having shot magic at them and strange glinting eye gem]

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 405):

At The Campsite

The Blackarms look hesitantly at each other, then one shrugs.

"The forest spirits are a picky lot.  They've been more ornery than usual ever since the Chief got all obsessed over the feyic vaults. Small group managed to get into one; a handful of them managed to escape with their lives and little else.  Since then, it's as if the forest itself has a score to settle."
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:08, Wed 02 Oct 2013.