(10)
Villhalas ceases his concentration on the illusory half-orc, instead electing to focus on the remaining griffon in combat.  Speaking a series of sibilant-sounding words that somehow convey an oily texture in their very pronunciation, the sorcerer fluidly gestures towards the griffon engaged in melee with Caylin.  A grayish smudge appears on the ground upon which the griffon stands, and some of the area nearby appears to be affected, as well.  The claws and paws of the creature slide slightly on the slick goo, but the griffon is able to retain its balance and stance.

(7)
Perrato is up.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:59, Thu 05 May 2005.

Arriving beside the half-orc, Perrato's dyspeptic muttering trails off, and he pauses briefly to look skyward to make direct spiritual contact with Vagrani. Assuming that he will not need to utter the prayer for Emancipation from Arcane Constraint [Remove Paralysis] in the near future, Perrato asks his deity to answer a prayer for Well-Being and Salubrious Mending  [Cure Moderate Wounds] in its stead [per Spontaneous Casting].

Placing his hands on the wounds of the barbarian, the cleric declaims, "O Vagrane, plagas amici mei sanare imploro!"
[14:01, Today: Perrato Viatomagne rolled 10 using 2d8+4. Cure Moderate Wounds-Totmacher. ]

The Palonard then resumes his muttering, "Orque tonto, porque piensas que puedes hacer todo sin ayuda...," produces a potion of Well-Being and Salubrious Mending from his robe, and turns his attention to the fracas directly to his west.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:50, Fri 06 May 2005.

(7)
Perrato chants the words to the Mithran Prayer for Well-Being and Salubrious Mending, healing some of the worst of Totmacher's wounds.  The barbarian is still severely injured, however.

New round.

(23)
Garryn is up.

(22)
Asher is up.

Thanks Bro--

Garryn rushes to the aid of Caylin, his rapier finding its mark in the tangled mass.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:32, Wed 11 May 2005.

(23)
Leaping ahead, Garryn executes a series of twisting somersaults, moving with bewildering grace through the terrain, and within reach of the griffon's beak and claws.  The creature tracks the rogue with its glittering eye, beak poised to strike, but seemingly cannot target the rogue.  Finishing his acrobatic move, Garryn lunges with his rapier, its point driving deep into the belly of the griffon.  The animal screams in pain once again.

(22)
Asher is up.

Seeing the lifeblood drain from the Griffon in front of him, Asher turns on his heel and rushes to join Garryn and Caylin in the fray to the west(ending in D-1). As he reaches the Griffon, Asher plants his left foot and spins 180 degrees in a pair of arcs: his torso spinning on a horizontal axis, and his right foot on a vertical arc high above his head and back down to connect with the beast.

13:16, Today: Asher Willbourne rolled 19 using 1d20+7. Unarmed strike.
13:17, Today: Asher Willbourne rolled 8 using 1d8+2. Unarmed damage.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:44, Fri 13 May 2005.

(22)
Asher's dash to Garryn and Caylin's aid, and his subsequent spinning, leaping kick results in a deadly coup to the griffon.  The descending heel of the monk, its force augmented by the torque of Asher's spinning body, shatters the cervical vertebrae of the animal with the sound of soggy sticks breaking.  A final exhalation of air coupled with a harsh rattle, and the griffon slumps over heavily.

OOC:  What's next?  This effectively ends combat for the time being.

Caylin emerges, bloodied but still vital, from between the dead griffon's claws.  The halfling nods to both Garryn and Asher.  "Ye've my thanks, lads.  Wasn't too keen on playin' mousie t' this o'ergrown farm cat fer much longer.  Pints on me th' next time we're bound fer a decent pub."  Caylin retrieves his bow, adding, "Th' bard-man took th' worst o' it.  How fare th' others?"

Totmacher, with his spiked gauntlets, will immediately begin to perform a Gynecological exam on the Griffon closest to him searching for any unborn young.

Once he completes the surgery on the first Griffon he will do the same to the other fallen Griffon.

If any eggs are found he will rip them from the womb.  Let me know if you need a dex check to ensure that he does not break them.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:07, Sat 14 May 2005.

Perrato dashes to the fallen bard/ranger and again seeks the assistance of Vagrani to utter a prayer for Well-Being and Salubrious Mending [Cure Light Wounds via Spontaneous Casting] in the stead of a prayer for Faithful Imbuement of Common Projectiles [Magic Stone]. "O Vagrane, plagas amici mei sanare imploro!"

[01:19, Today: Perrato Viatomagne rolled 7 using 1d8+4. Cure Light Wounds--Hau'dn.]

Turning to assess the health of the rest of the group, Perrato says, "Oye, amigos heridos, whom could I assist next? It appears that I have no shortage of work to do. No, no little amount..."

"Half-beast, you have night eyes don't you? Did you mark the direction the last Griffon travelled as he fled?" Asher asks Tot.

Totmacher begins to tear into the abdomen of one of the fallen griffons, using nothing but his spiked gauntlets.  The half-orc manages to rip a jagged incision into the peritoneal cavity of the animal, but midway through suffers from a draining of his heightened physical frenzy.  The barbaric post-mortem surgical technique manages to avoid puncturing the intestinal tissue--barely.  The smell is nonetheless overwhelming, as the intestines pop free of the parietal peritoneum, and peritoneal fluid gushes to the ground.

Caylin, wrinkling his nose, calls out, "Big man!  Are ye rumagin' fer somethin' t' eat, or d'ye have some'at o' a plan?"

Upon closer inspection, somewhat muddled by the gore of Totmacher's activities, it is clear that this griffon was a male.  The same holds true for the other fallen griffon.


Perrato's invocation to Vagrani heals some of the worst damage to Hau'dn, bringing the man back to a semblance of consciousness.  The ranger-bard takes a deep breath and moans, but is clearly better off for Perrato's attentions.

Totmacher completes the examination.  He then uses a generous amount of peritoneal fluid to slick back his dark grey locks and turns to Vil.

"Do you like Totmacher's red highlights?"

"You did a helluva job keeping that tree from falling..."

Then he lets out a somewhat fatigued laugh.

"Hey Monk, nice bit of dancing, now if you only had one of your male partners to join you."

Then he leans hid head forward and snaps it back hard spraying droplets of Griffon plasma into the air, then grunting to himself, "Damn, that felt good."

"Dominique, Totmacher would like some more medicine."

His body glistening in the moonlight, he surveys the carnage.

"No balls on these birds, Caylin--hard to tell gender."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:58, Sat 14 May 2005.

Clapping in mock admiration, Villhalas looks to Totmacher -

"Very nice Big Brother.  A wonderful display of your rather primitive skill sets.."
Smiling now, Vil adds in earnest - "Perrato - please send Vagrani my thanks..  Nice work."  Looking to the rest of the group (Garryn, Cay, Tot and Asher in particular), Vil adds "Nice work to all of you.  I see your recent stint in the Borderton Jail hasn't taken anything away from your Cleaving Abilities Tot.  Those were some nice hits.."

Looking to the sky now, clearly disappointed, the Sorcerer adds Well..  The interaction with the last griffon didn't turn out exactly as I had planned.    Once seeing its peers fall, it apparently lacked the stomach to stay around..  Perhaps it will make it's presence known to us again."    At this Vil shrugs it off - and begins to gather some more kindling - in an effort to bring the camp fire back to life..

V

OOC:  Scott, did I forget to mention that Vil has vowed not to engage in any more direct combat?  He's decided to take Conscientious Objector Status for the duration of the Campaign...  Much more Tree-Leaning to follow...
This message was last edited by the player at 22:27, Sat 14 May 2005.

Rising from the prostrate bard, Perrato's mien expresses deep concern as he strides over to Totmacher, assessing the wounds he incurred in the preceding melee. "Pobrecito...Yes that must hurt terribly, Señor Witzmacher," says the cleric as he frowns sympathetically.

"However, this is all I can offer. I sincerely hope you can find Dominique." The cleric then produces a potion of Well-Being and Salubrious Mending from his robe and hands it to the half-orc. "No la bebas toda en uno lugar, orque." The Palonard turns away, casting his eyes on the injured Caylin, Garryn, and Hau'dn, and says, "Truly, it is a shame that Dominique is not here. Especially for Señor Witzmacher. Now who really needs help?"

Garryn will begin selecting a variety of feathers and claws from griffon he participated in killing. He looks over and sees Tot resting and asks, "So any chance you'll be able to recover the surviving horses big fella?"

Asher looks to the sky in the east and shakes his head, "Can any of you gleen how near to the hour of sunrise we may be?" Secretly, he hopes it is near; he would not be able to sleep now, at least not until the adrenaline runs it's course through his veins.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:27, Sun 15 May 2005.

Totmacher calls out--"Well, Totmacher's watch is up, ladies.  So if you don't mind."

Totmacher then proceeds to fluff up some Griffon down against the tree in F-7, lays down and immediately starts to snore.

Totmacher, wounded, bloodied, and covered in the peritoneal fluid he had used to slick back his hair, lays down to sleep.  The big half-orc smells foul.

Caylin proceeds down to the stream, where he washes away the grime and blood around his own wounds, wincing a bit at the pain.  He nods to Perrato, saying, "Any aid or healin' ye can spare would be much 'ppreciated, man o' Vagrani.  An' th' big man'll need some help...sooner or later.  He's some'at thick in th' head, but I misdoubt 'tis more t' get a wee rise outta folk, an' less a lack o' native cleverness, eh?"

The hot night is ending as sunrise draws near.  A mounting chorus of birdsong heralds the dawn, and the day promises to be another hot one.  Asher paces the campsite, looking to the sky.

The sole remaining horse with the party is Caylin's little pony, too small to tear free of its traces during the griffon's assault.  Totmacher is pretty badly wounded, and Hau'dn can't travel without further healing...as it is, the ranger-bard is lapsing in and out of consciousness.  Without horses, the party is currently about two days' travel outside of Borderton, and about one full day's walking from where the caravan was supposedly ambushed.

OOC:  Actions?  Activities?  Plans?  Let me know...

Any of Tot's gear stored on the horse is accessible, since his horse is, well still here.

What did we lose with the other horses?

How long will it take to get some more Cure Moderate Wounds spells for Haud'n and Tot?

This message was deleted by the player at 05:10, Tue 17 May 2005.

Nodding in the way of his still hidden Familiar, Villhalas adds -
"Let's see if Mal'ach isn't able to spot our Horses...  In the meantime - let's stir up something to eat.  All that Hand-to-Hand combat has made me Hungry."

V
This message was last edited by the player at 05:11, Tue 17 May 2005.

Asher focuses on his breathing while busying himself with the task of packing his gear for travel. His hands vibrate with the mix of adrenaline and Ki that always seem to follow combat; trying to open his focus to the broader issues at hand, he addresses the party members who are awake and or nearby.

"If the bird is successful in finding our horses, how much time are we willing to devote to capturing them? Personally, I will not miss the beast greatly."

Seeing the emerging signs of PTSD in the Monk, Vil offers a look of concern.  Gotta remember to keep an eye out for these young punks..

"Aye, my flanks are still feeling yesterday's ride as well Asher.  However, I think it's a good idea to do what we can to get them back..  Considering the Distance that lies before us.."

V