[Triboar - A City Ablaze]

The crossroads city has changed much since the War of the Silver Marches, where the bustling trade-city was transformed into a staging point for the war efforts of the Lord's Alliance against the massed orcish hordes from the North. Tall stone walls each over 30ft high surround the the entire city. Watch towers dot the perimeter, guarding the four archways welcoming travelers into the busy trading post, now each sealed behind sets of thick, wooden gates. The tall tower of the Lord Protector in the North-West wing of the city stands as a testament to the military power of the Lord's Alliance, the three-headed boar of the city's namesake flying high and mighty above.

Tonight, it all burns.



Rushing towards the city Moira can see that the massive gates have been shattered open, the discarded remains of an enormous ogre-sized battering ram tossed to a side, broken in two. Warehouses and buildings blaze with uncontrolled flames, thick plumes of smoke blotting out the night sky. Amidst the low tolling of the city bell one can catch the lingering cries of battle - steel on steel, the crack of wood, the low roar of an ogre.

The air smells like burnt flesh.

Triboar's inner fort, the tower and keep of the Lord Protector, seem to be one of the few places not ablaze. U'lin and Moira can catch the faint figures of humanoids in armor launching arrows from the top of the keep. The thick smoke and heavy glare from the flames makes it difficult to make out the activity in the streets of the city- but U'lin does notice small bands of figures breaking into burning houses, or engaging in combat amidst the chaos.

LINK TO MAP

The party is approaching from the West road.

Both Eastern Wings are heavily ablaze, the Western ones only partially.
The fortified location on the North-West wing is the Lord Protector's Keep, and seems to have some surviving defenders.
The streets are populated with an unknown number of what might be looters/soldiers(?).
The outer walls are littered with signs of a pitched battle or siege, one long over by the time the party arrives.

How do you guys wish to proceed?
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:48, Mon 05 Oct 2020.

At some point amid her curses and grumblings, Moira's language turned totally unintelligible to those gathered amid the wagons - she'd shifted back to her native tongue, which was always a clear sign that she was genuinely angry.  She brought the wagon to a halt as they crested the hill to see such chaos before them, only to quickly come to a decision and yank the reins to pull northward.  Not into the fray, but rather along the road of the outer wall that led toward a smaller community of buildings to the northwest.

Moira's going to steer the wagon further northwest toward what I think is a quarry?  Given the whole situation as it stands, we can't really risk driving right into the fray and I doubt the horses would be keen on running right into a blazing battle anyway.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:59, Mon 05 Oct 2020.

The quarry appears abandoned - and for good reason. In the light of the burning city, Moira can see that the houses have been ransacked, their doors and windows smashed open (in one case, the walls as well). Two corpses, bloodied and broken, lie where they were tossed haphardly onto the road, limbs bent at odd angles.

There is an empty stable here, though the doors have been broken in. Some old stacks of hay and a rusty trough are all that's left.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:17, Mon 05 Oct 2020.

A hasty drive amid the already-ransacked buildings was as good as Moira could hope for in the whole mess.  She worked the wagons amid the buildings where they would have some cover amid the far-cast shadows and set the brake, though she'd barely had time to lock it in place before she was already clambering for her crossbow.

It was Nightstone all over again... but this time something could still be done.

"Miss Emma, y'stay in th'wagons.  Keep y'self and Thente safe.  Anythin' comes pokin' 'round like a threat, y'take th'reins and haul outta here, y'understand?" the Halfling barked a sharp order back at Emma as she leaped down from the driver's seat.  As she landed she staggered and stumbled - the immediate surge of adrenaline at the onset of danger wasn't enough to fully overcome her fatigue, but she steadied herself all the same.  She shook her head to try and clear her wits, then waved to her companions.  "Y'three, we're goin' on foot!  Stay close and don't get separated."

The long ride through the night had been draining, but Claire's youth and rural upbringing had gifted her with a robust constitution, allowing her to stay awake and relatively alert. If anything, the scent of smoke and the glow of distant fires prompted rising adrenaline in the young woman. Tireless Glory kept pace the whole way, only halting with a whinny as the burning town came into view.

"Merciful Mother..." she breathed.

Jolted back to reality by Moira's commanding presence, she began preparing for battle. Sword unsheathed, bow slung and arrows sat ready in their quiver. Even were it not for the divine prompting stirring her soul, it was clear what had to be done. She would not fail the Great Mother.

There was to be no rest for the wicked.

DC 10 Con save vs exhaustion: 11
14:10, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 11 using 1d20+1.

U'lin staggered, shaken and disturbed as he emerged from the Beetle.  Tears ran ashes down both cheeks, crying for the lost creations and works of quality, the cradles of innovation and bonds of friendship and civilization, creating to protect and defend the world.

He swallowed, echoed Moira's direction for Emma to remain in the Beetle, looking after Thente.
"They have taken it.  They have taken it."  "Yes, they have taken what they sought here, for this scene to remain.  But what did Triboar once hold to warrant such horror, to strive against such strength, to ravage with such vehemence."  With his work on great craftsmanship, his workings on mighty items of power... concern was a clarion trumpet of his feelings.

Gently, gathering himself, he encouraged his fellow Gondite, "Hrmph.  Herrm.  Emma - keep praying.  Gond hear you.  Gond's voice is truly with you."

The firbolg offered another prayer for those remaining behind, then stepped up alongside Moira and Claire, near a pair of haystacks, and readied for trouble.

"You may come out.  That haystack will not provide you cover against the raiders inside.  Come tell us what has occurred - perhaps we can still aid some of the poor folk - I see many heroic guards protecting at least part of the city."

Silence greets U'lins' words for a few seconds. There's a soft hiccup, then a rustle as the haystacks part. From within emerges a human boy, barely seven years of age. Dirty, sodden and covered in straw. His eyes are red from crying, his wild dirt-stained hair still recognizably the same shade of blond as the bodies outside.

The child looks from U'lin to Claire, then bursts into tears once more.

Though Moira had paused in her haste when U'lin spoke up about someone in hiding, part of her wished she hadn't.  Realization painted her with a stricken look that immediately boiled back up into the keen fury her company had so often seen mar her.  Without so much as a word the Halfling turned sharply on her heel and took off at pace for the distant city gates.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:06, Tue 06 Oct 2020.

Moira, if you're rushing for the gates, give me a Perception check (I assume she is looking for targets? What are her goals?)

Same for anyone else immediately following her. Feel free to cast spells, prep buffs...etc.

Anyone can attempt a Charisma check to calm the boy down enough for him to talk. As a human cleric of Chauntea and a familiar sight to most villages and towns, Claire makes this check at advantage.

As mentioned in the OOC, Moira's hoping to get the attention of some Triboar soldiers she can whistle down so they can A) point her in the right direction and B) not shoot her thinking she's a threat in all the confusion.  Otherwise she's just going to identify the first obvious threat she sees attacking the guards or citizens and shoot it.

Perception at Disadvantage from Exhaustion
Moira Ruadh rolled 8 using 1d20+4

Moira's real tired, y'all.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:25, Tue 06 Oct 2020.

"Oh you poor dear..." Maternal instinct stirred within Claire as she set her sword down, gently planting the blade in the dirt beside her. Fighting back tears of pity, she scooped the crying boy up with outstretched arms, embracing him tightly and planting a kiss on his forehead. "There, there, you're safe with us now..."

She quickly brought the child back to the relative safety of the Iron Beetle and Emma's care. Setting him down inside the Gondite sanctuary, she dabbed his face clean and offered him some food and water. "You've been a very brave young man, sweetie. Now, I need you to be even braver, okay? Can you tell us what happened? Everything you remember." The priestess' tone was soothing but urgent, conscious of both the boy's fragile spirit and the need to move quickly.

By Chauntea's mercy, there had been one less tragedy today. But there would be vengeance for the rest.

Persuasion (with advantage): 26
11:33, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 26 using 1d20+6.
11:33, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 8 using 1d20+6.

OOC: Expend 1 trail rations.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:07, Tue 06 Oct 2020.

The boy simply continues crying, hugging Claire tightly and refusing to let go. He refuses the hard, dry rations but sips the water, blubbering almost incoherently into the priestess's waist;

"Big green men...came on axebirds," he shudders, "mamma said to hide. Papa took the stick. Big green men kept coming, they laughed. Papa shouted. Mama screamed. I kept hiding, I'm-I'm a good boy, mama s-said to hide."

"T-the ground shook. Big green men searched. Took the horses. Took everything. Ground kept shaking. Something r-roared. I smelled s-smoke but I didn't leave. I hid. I was s-scared..."

---

As Moira approaches the western gates she can see that a small battle had been waged between the defenders and the attackers. The dead bodies of orcs and guards litter the broken gates. No one seems to be manning the walls. Burning buildings surround the town square, mostly on the eastern side of town. From her position near the west gate, Moira can hear sounds of fighting echoing down the alleyways to the north- frightened screaming mix with gutteral laughter, though her senses are unable to make out the exact numbers involved.

All the smoke, the choking heat of the fires, and the exhaustion in her body that was fended off only by stubbornness and adrenaline didn't make for especially good conditions or judgment.  Nor did the raw fury that seared through the Halfling's blood which drove her to defy even her own orders to not split up.  Somewhere in the back of her thoughts was a more sensible voice demanding she wait, that she hold place for the others to catch up with her, that she remember what happened at Nightstone and at Hillsfar when going alone would only lead to tragedy.

But that really was the problem; she did remember Nightstone and Hillsfar.  She remembered them all too well.

Full movement and Dash to continue on into town, following the sounds from the north

Bonus Action - Hide for stealth, at Disadvantage from Exhaustion
Moira Ruadh rolled 14 using 1d20+9

Hiding is easy - the chaos and smoke that thickens the air and blots the moon casts long shadows in the alleywaays on the North-West wing. Mostly military buildings, an absent part of Moira's mind notes- built of stone or brick, hence their resistance to the flames.

Fire-proof doesn't mean ogre-proof however. And that is what Moira finds.

A big, gray ogre; sack held over one shoulder, a longspear (more a battering ram really) in the other. A pair of Triboar guards- one already bleeding out on the floor, stand between it and a group of frightened-looking civilians. Circling them are two burly orcs, also carrying sacks, riding what seem to be trained axebeaks mounts.



The raiders laugh mockingly as the ogre takes another lazy swipe at the remaining guard, while the civilians scream in terror.

Is U'lin, Claire and/or Zaiya following Moira? You may assume you are right behind her (though Claire might be delayed, depending on how long Moira waits)
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 00:22, Wed 07 Oct 2020.

In her time at Goldenfields, senior priestesses had wisely advised clerical aspirants that their flocks would look to them as the very face and hands of the Great Mother, especially in times of trial. They were to be serene and stable as the very earth on which they stood. Yet earth unlike stone, was not cold and unmoving, but possessed of the warmth and ardor as the creatures it sustained. It was all Claire could do to keep her composure as the little boy sobbed, telling her of an experience that would likely scar him ever after. Save by some miracle, his parents were probably gone. She hugged him tighter against her waist, that he would not see the tearing anger welling up in her own eyes.

But she could wait no longer, not while there may be lives to be preserved yet. "You did the right thing. Exactly as your parents would have wanted. You're safe with us now, and that's what matters." She gestures to the war wagon around him. "Welcome to the Iron Beetle, blessed by Gond, the god of smiths, himself. Now, I need you to stay here, with big sister Emma, until we return. Do what she tells you to do, okay?"

Difficult though it may have been, Claire eventually pries herself away...only to find Moira missing. "Moira?" she calls out. It was not like the halfling to have gone on ahead alone. Confound it.

There was no time. Picking her sword back up, Claire mounts Glory once again, thundering off toward the western gates with no heed for stealth.

Moira's glaring eyes scanned the scene quickly to assess what could be done.  Her judgment may have been clouded to the point that she was willing to strike out alone, but not so much that she'd be dumb on how to counterattack.  She quickly picked a suitable target and leveled her crossbow, safe behind the cover of an overturned barrel and the drifting plumes of dense smoke.

All things considered, she actually felt like she could handle an Ogre on her own.  But not when there were a pair of riders backing it up.  One on one was its own affair, but numbers needed whittling down.  She leveled a bolt at the back of one of the Orcs and let fly, already on the move to take cover in a new hiding spot before the bolt could even strike its target.


Action: Crossbow vs. Riding Orc 1 w/Advantage from being Hidden
Moira Ruadh rolled 24 using 1d20+6

Damage: 20
Crossbow - Moira Ruadh rolled 11 using 1d8+3
Sneak Attack - Moira Ruadh rolled 9 using 3d6

Bonus Action: Hide - Stealth at Disadvantage from Exhaustion
Moira Ruadh rolled 13 using 1d20+9

Movement: to a new spot within 30' if necessary to maintain hidden status


And here goes Moira, doing the exact thing I always say Rogues should never do.

Re: Claire catching up - Moira moved at a Dash to the gates but, once she went into Stealth, would have to move at half-speed, back down to 15' per round beyond that point.  So even with the delay in leaving, Claire should be able to catch up pretty quickly at Glory's full 120' per round Dash speed.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:01, Wed 07 Oct 2020.

U'lin had backed off several feet, positioned between any troubles of the town and the boy, trying to give Claire's warmth and better speaking skills a space to work their magic.  He didn't try to hide here, for a firbolg face was the least of worries in this space, and that little bit of misdirection might be needed later.

He smiled as Claire once again turned a horrible nightmare of a place into a confirmation of safety, and peace.  Even his own mental footing found repurchase, and he wiped away his cheek stripes, and offered a gentle, supportive smile, nodding in agreement to Claire's suggestion of peace in the wagon.

~"Moira?  She's right..." he half-turned to where the halfling had been standing moments before, stopping when she wasn't there.  His head looked both ways, and he half-turned back quizzically.  "Well now.  She was just here.  Do you think she scouted ahead?  She always says to tell people where you're going.  Or was that walking - big feet? Why would sh- oh gods, no!  Moira!"

"EMMA!  Protect the boy inside!"

The firbolg took off running, long legs cutting swathes of distance, spurred by memory flashbacks of the hin archer refusing to back off when the giant had attacked the Amphail feast, and refusing to flee when badly hurt in the second hill giant fight.  And spooked by the hag.  And upset about orcs in the area.  And exhausted, not thinking clearly.  Had U'lin been discussing the catapults or was that just in his head - No!  Focus! Not blaming!  Get to Moira!  Protect his family!

As he charged forward into the unfolding scene, it felt like another's hand reaching for Thente's javelin, waiting a stride or two for one of the circling axebeak riders to circle back in front, and then releasing...

A snaking bolt of hungry white and azure lightning leapt across crates, fallen spars, fallen bodies and bit at the axebeak rider and his mount, continuing on to draw together into the javelin once more, driving deep for the giant's barn-sized meaty back.

U'lin lifted his shield of faith, bellowing for attention as he tried to pull attention away from the halfing - and the huddled, helpless townsfolk.  Part of U'lin's attunement to the world mentally pegged 'Hin archer, mobile, unhurt' to the blur of shadow off to his left, but he was committed.

---

U'lin's passive, even at a -5 for disadvantage here catches a 14, so thanks for thinking of us in your rolls, Moira - always thinking you are :p

Mv to 120' of the giant.

*If it's possible to hit both axebeaks and the giant, U'lin will angle as works - not quite sure about their circling pattern but figured at somepoint at least one rider would be the party's direction.

21:26, Today: U'lin rolled 13,21,6,20 using d20+4,d20+4,d6,4d6.  javelin/adv/dmg/lightning.
Not bad, not bad.
AC 21 on the giant.
26dmg on the giant

DexSv13/half 20(lightning) for axebeak, orc rider.

Another sob from the boy, who simply clutches Claire tighter. Only after careful coaxing from the cleric and Emma herself (and what might be a small bag of sweets the girl had smuggled from her shop) does he nod, settling down inside the wagon as though it was the safest place in the Realms.

Emma simply nods at U'lin as he leaves, continuing her quiet prayer to Gond. Her hands though, unpack a heavy-looking crossbow from her baggage, along with several vials of rather nasty looking acid.

"Gond be with you, U'lin," the alchemist forces a smile as she ratchets the crossbow, "may he bless your tools - in peace and in war."

---

As Moira fires her bolt there is burst of thunder, an almost familiar crack of lightning as U'lin hurls the Javelin from behind her. The sudden explosion of sound catches the entire group by surprise, just as Moira's bolt pierces the nearest orc, killing him instantly. Meanwhile, U'lins' javelin practically disintegrates the remaining orc and her mount before punching a black, fist-sized hole in the ogre's chest.

The orc falls, her mount burnt to crisp. The ogre doesn't. (Both Orcs are dead, one Axebeak mount is panicked and the other dead as well)

The huge, hulking brute roars in pain and agony, flailing wildly with its pole. The standing guard catches the blunt end of the makeshift weapon on his chest and is sent careening into the civilians. Beady eyes fix on U'lin as the source of it's pain- and the creature turns to flee.

Not gonna bother with initiative. U'lin and Moira- go ahead and make your second turns attacks. Claire and Zaiya may assume they arrive the round after.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:42, Wed 07 Oct 2020.

Just kind of rolling with the cinematic quality of this one since we never established clear distances or positions, so here we go!

The crash of lightning made Moira reflexively flinch away, though she cast a look swiftly back the way it had come when she recognized the tell-tale crackling line of Thente's javelin.  She could only just make out the charging outlines of U'lin and Claire rushing along in the distance amid all the smoke, though she paid them little mind beyond the reassurance of backup.  The Ogre had turned to run in the face of the odds and she would not abide.

Rather than load in another bolt, Moira hoisted her crossbow over her shoulder onto its latch and took off in a dead sprint for the lumbering menace.  Golden streaks of magic crackled from the Halfling's limbs - enchanted steps carried her swifter than normal and, as she whisked out her blades, the flesh of her arms shone as spiraling lines of divine light ignited in unfurling, daffodil-shaped patterns.  That same golden illumination swiftly enveloped her swords, turning cold steel into gleaming gold even as the Halfling let out an uncharacteristic battle cry; a furious, full-throated shout that carried with her as she leaped and plunged both swords into the Ogre's scorched back.

Action + Bonus Action: Dual Attack vs. Ogre
Main Hand - Moira Ruadh rolled 12 using 1d20+7
Off-Hand - Moira Ruadh rolled 24 using 1d20+7
I believe Ogres don't have more than AC 12 normally, so that should be two hits.

Damage: 21
Main-Hand - Moira Ruadh rolled 7 using 1d8+4
Off-Hand - Moira Ruadh rolled 6 using 1d8+1
Sneak Attack - Moira Ruadh rolled 8 using 3d6

Reaction Set-up: Moira will Uncanny Dodge if the Ogre hits her with an attack.
Uncanny Dodge - When you are hit by an attack you can see, you can use your Reaction to halve the attack's inflicted damage.

As the path before melted clear towards the fleeing ogre, U'lin continued his charge forward, and pulled forth his hammer, spinning it high overhead with intention to launch it to finish off the beast.

Moira's golden form leaping onto the ogre's form - well, that checked U'lin's throw, not wishing to risk striking her.  The Hin was amazing in combat, and U'lin knew her skills far beyond his own even before she began to exhibit the golden magics - had she been holding them back all this time?

Emma's words seemed to echo in U'lin's mind, and he smiled at the memory of seeing her comforted and sharing Gond's word.  Gond's blessing was always with U'lin's tools... but it was very nice again to hear another offer the benediction.

"Great God of creation, ring clear your disfavour at one who brutely destroys works of improvement of the world!"  U'lin's symbol of faith glowed much like Moira's magical tattoos, but a forge-warmed fire-golden glow in comparison to her more pure golden colour.

---

OOC:
Mv closer to ogre
08:04, Today: U'lin rolled 12 using 2d12.  Toll the Dead WS14.

The ogre screams in outrage as Moira's steel sank into the soft flesh in its neck. With brutal strength it tosses and turns, trying to shake the halfling off, golden light trailing through the air. U'lin steps forward, and the mighty gong that seemed to erupt from his symbol was felt, if not heard, by now awe-struck bystanders.

Blood pours from the ogre's eyes, ears and mouth. With a sick squelch and a mighty thud, the creature collapses onto the blood-stained pavement. Hushed whispers erupt from the group of civilians- three men and two woman, all covered in soot and sporting minor injuries.

The thud of hooves causes them to start in alarm and pull together, while the groggy guard jumps to his feet in alarm, spear held frantically at ready.

Claire arrives around the corner upon Glory, carrying Zaiya with her.

"...w-who are you? Are you reinforcements?" the surviving Triboar guard hefts the spear, eyes siding from U'lin to Moira and occasionally to the unconscious body of his fellow guard a few feet away.

Moira rode the fall of the collapsing Ogre as it toppled under the brunt of the various divine strikes and rolled deftly off its shoulder to the ground.  Though it had barely settled with its last breath leaving it than the Halfling did the same thing she did back at Nightstone; a swift thrust of a blade through a soft point within the beast's head to double-tap and ensure it was good and dead.  Even after the immediate battle came to a halt the luminous, subtly shifting trails of divine filigree continued to swirl about the Halfling's arms; vines subtly budding with new flowers yet to blossom across her skin.

"...w-who are you? Are you reinforcements?"

"No, but we are here t'help." Moira didn't waste a moment as she snatched up the enchanted javelin and lobbed it back over to U'lin.  She bounced a look briefly around the scattered alleyways where the flitting shadows of looters and who-knew-what-else darted about.  Too many, too chaotic to pin down.  Instead her eyes swept to the gathered group of citizens and then up to the distant Keep.  As quickly as ever, Moira's military presence and decisiveness kicked into gear, though it was obvious she was still anxious to act and barely contained herself all the same.

She gestured quickly to the guard who was laid bleeding out with a swing of her sword, having swiftly turned it about in an underarm hold to point with the pommel instead.  "Claire, see if y'can get that'n back on his feet.  U'lin, Zaiya, watch th'surroundin's for any more threats comin'.  We need t'move fast and be ready t'overwhelm anythin' that tries gettin' in our way." Back to the surviving guard.  "Soldier!  Gather these folk and lead th'way - we'll escort y'where y'need t'be.  Outta town t'th'Quarry or t'th'Keep, wherever's safe."

"T-the Keep!" stammers the guard, as he lowers his spear to check on his comrade, "the Lord Protector will need- Triboar desperately needs help! Please!"

I'll need at least one Perception check as the group is moving. The fallen guard can be stabilized with a DC 10 heal check or any being spell. He is just concussed.

Prompted by Moira, Claire immediately got from her steed, swiping her trusty medicinal kit to see to the fallen guard. Sensing a regular, if weak pulse, she pulled out a strip of cloth, swiftly cutting it down to size and wrapping around the man's head wound. It was fortunate that they had gotten here when they did. "He got beat up good, but he'll be alright," she assured the guardsman's compatriot.


"To the Keep it is then," allowing Zaiya to continue on foot, Claire clambered back up on Glory. She walked her steed to the front of the motley convoy of refugees and guards - mounted on the mighty warhorse, she would draw attention away from any threats from the vulnerable civilians, and allow Moira and Zaiya to unleash bolt and magick unmolested from the rear.

"Stay behind us, and stay together!" She called out to the unarmed townsfolk behind, before riding out a short distance ahead of the main body, far enough that those on foot would have time and space to react to an ambush, but near enough to hear her companions' shouts. With the remaining able guard on foot beside her, she prompts him to begin leading the way. "Let my companions and I handle any danger, guardsman. Your main responsibility," Claire points back to the fearful civilians, "is seeing to them." She does her best to emulate Moira's firm but reassuring tone. Perhaps she was even getting better at it.

Medicine: 17
20:42, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 17 using 1d20+3.  Medicine.

Perception: 6
20:57, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 6 using 1d20.

OOC: If no one can carry the stabilized guard and it seems necessary to get him up on his feet, expend 3 charges of Lay on Hands (17 charges remaining).
This message was last edited by the player at 02:17, Thu 08 Oct 2020.

U'lin gestured for Claire to check at the fallen guardsman, while he gave a check to the townsfolk - he nodded that they all seemed fine - and moved to check the orcs and ogre for clues about the military forces and their plans... and to make certain they were not simply shamming or unconscious.

"Thanks be to Gond, no injuries here among the folk.  Not much  found on the orcs...

"Moira, I'll run back and grab the wagons - we may need to transfer wounded, and we don't want to be leaving Emma and Thente and the boy out of response range.  Or did you want to do that while Claire and I guard the group?"

---

OOC:
19:04, Today: U'lin rolled 15,11,3 using d20+6,d20+6,d4.  Perception.
So 15, or 18 if guidance can be applied (watching for trouble/survivors)

"Emma'll be fine guardin' th'rest, U'lin - she's got th'horses, her crossbow, and y'armored wagon.  Trust her and y'own craftsmanship t'handle it.  There's bound t'be fightin' outside th'Keep what needs breakin' through and these folk'll need all of us t'get 'em t'safety."  Moira sheathed both her swords at either hip and unlatched her crossbow once more; every motion in swapping, loading, and readying a smooth, practiced gesture of second nature to her.

With that, Moira quickly cast a look about to double-check for any possible threats but her vision suddenly swam with the motion.  She didn't even realize she'd staggered and rebalanced on reflex with a quick step to catch herself with - while she didn't necessarily register her own fatigue, it was obvious her body did.  The Halfling shook it off, then pulled down her bandana across the lower half of her face and Nightvision Goggles over her eyes, both to help fend off the ash-laden air and hide her exhausted expression.  Stubborn to the bitter end.  She gave a sharp whistle for attention and a "get moving" gesture pointed up toward the Keep for them all to get a move-on.

Perception at Disadvantage from Exhaustion
Moira Ruadh rolled 9 using 1d20+4
This message was last edited by the player at 03:29, Thu 08 Oct 2020.

With practiced hands, Claire swiftly bandages the unconscious guard's wounds, much to the gratitude of his companion. The civilians line up behind Glory is an odd shuffling position, muttering to themselves or shooting an odd word of prayer to Tymora or Waukeen. One of them, a middle-aged, hawk-nosed woman, seems to have taken note of the little magical display by Moira, and is feverently (though quietly) giving thanks to the Coinmaiden.

The orcs and the ogres were carrying sacks, the contents of which were unfortunately partly mangled by the lightning. The orc's sack apparently contained a mix of silver and other baubles - now all melted and fused together from the magical lightning passing through it. The ogre's sack is filled with food - mostly meat - though the pouches around his waist contain several pieces of expensive (for a commoner) silverware (OOC: the party can claim this as loot if they wish, though if they ask its clear that the some of the owners are in the civilian group in front of you).

"T-this way! Quick!" shouts the remaining guard, pointing down one alleyway. Though a bit of a squeeze for Glory's uh, glorious frame, the ragtag group eventually makes it towards the keep. Though alert, U'lins' senses detect no other orcs or hostile groups around- none following them at least.

The outskirts of the inner keep are surprisingly open, with a large cobblestone courtyard surrounding the tall stone walls. Sandbags have been stacked around the courtyard in a rough perimeter, each "fort" manned by a pair of soldiers. The bodies of several orcs, axebeaks and two ogres have been stacked in a corner of the keep, still riddled with arrows. Small squadrons of guards, about 3-4 strong, move in and out of the keep. Some seem to also be escorting civilians, while others are carrying buckets of sand, water and other firefighting equipment. The rest are carrying injured - both military and not.

"Halt!" calls one of the sentries, "state your-"

"Corporal Greene, callsign Hawk-Four, passphrase is Lonely Salmon!" the guard quickly jabbers out, "I brought reinforcements! And the civilians! Let us in quickly, the Lord Protector will want to meet them!"

There is a brief pause from the sentry, who turns to look up at the battlements. A few of the archers then stare back at the group, before a thickly-bearded dwarf gives a thumbs-up.

"Acknowledged. Enter!"

---

The inside of the Keep is somehow even more chaotic. One corner of the inner courtyard is lined with rough bedding, upon which dozens of injured have been placed. Most of them appear have severe burns, attended by a mere two healers. Officers exchange orders with squads, receive reports from returning scouts, or direct civilians to one of several holding areas in the back.

"...got two more injured! Heavy burns, need immediate-"
"Looters still in sector SW-A3, two fled, one tried to fight back-"
"...thing in the flames. Water just pisses it off, sand doesn't work, its spreading worse-"
"Bird from Platoon Red-O-One, ETA one hour..."
"-lost two men to those blasted gargoyles already, where are our mages!"

In the middle of the chaos is a heavily bandaged woman still partly clad in armor, right arm clutching a longspear for support.  Her left arm is gone, the bandaged stump jutting out of the shoulder of her breastplate. Yet, she exudes an undeniable commanding presence, a pillar in the storm of activity around the Keep. Tall, dark-haired and in possession of an almost bear-like frame, even with one arm the Lord Protector Daratha Shendrel of Triboar remains an imposing sight. To every panicked question comes a swift, yet measured reply. Frantic scout reports are met with a nod and a gesture to update the sprawling map laid upon the nearby table. Confused orders are quickly straightened out, guards reorganized, plans made clear.

"Ma'am! Lord Commander! I brought reinforcements! Casters, too! They offered to help!"

The crowd around the Lord Protector parts at the guardman's words (but also because a pure-bred Amphail warhorse is a very imposing sight), as Daratha looks up from the map. Her brows furrow as she takes in U'lin, Moira, Claire and Zaiya in turn- going up as she notes how well-armed and magically-proficient your group appears to be.

"Excellent job Greene," Daratha Shendrel's voice is deep, especially for a woman, with a slight raspiness at the edge, "I see you have secured the civilians as well. Hand them off to Sergeant Marks, then see to yours and Corporal Rickson's injuries. Dismissed."

Corporal Greene snaps off a quick salute, lifts his friend in a fireman carry, then heads off to the tents - the civilians trailing quietly behind him. As he does so, Lord Protector Daratha Shendrel turns her attention back to the four adventurers before her;

"Now. You are here to help? Good," the woman nods curtly at Moira and Claire, apparently recognizing their military training, "I am Commander Daratha Shendrel, Lord Protector of Triboar. State your name, rank or profession and any magic you can use. Triboar is burning, our primary wizard is dead. Any aid you can offer, we will accept."
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:34, Thu 08 Oct 2020.

While she'd been ready to have to fight their way into the Keep, it was a boon to find that the forces had already been fended off when they arrived.  Good - that meant there was opportunity to mount a counterattack instead.  Though when they all got into the crowded halls Moira looked furtively about the injured laid along the walls with so keen a gaze it was clear she hoped - or perhaps feared - to spot someone specific amid the numbers.  It was only the Lord Protector's introduction that snapped her attention back to the fore and she quickly tugged down both bandana and goggles to show her face properly.

"Moira Ruadh - Waukeenar, Fourth Captain of th'People's Army of Thentia."  A curt salute was offered, albeit a different gesture than the one the Triboar soldiers gave.  She waited long enough for the others to announce themselves as they would, then continued with all due haste.  "We've come up from th'south through Westbridge, found th'body of a Triboar scout carryin' some sorta orders or figures from th'Orc bands.  Sorry t'see whatever he was hopin' t'warn of came too late."  She couldn't help a moment's distraction pull her weary gaze aside as a soldier hustled by with an injured civilian in tow, but returned her focus once again all the same.  "We ain't a proper company, so I won't volunteer m'companions without their say-so, but we've been fendin' off all manner of threats up th'coast from Nightstone.  At th'least, y'have m'swords and service as y'please."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:31, Thu 08 Oct 2020.

Though Claire had never served in a fighting hierarchy more formal than a village militia, she knew enough to show some respect to a Lord Protector who not only seemed to be doing some real protecting, but had clearly paid the price too. Fortunately, she could always count on Moira to deal with these military types, dismounting and taking the opportunity to introduce herself when the halfling paused.

"Claire Larkspur, devoted of the Great Mother. I'm no soldier, ma'am, but I reckon I've got a decent sword arm," the plight of the wounded drew her eye, as it always did, "and some familiarity with the healing arts." Her manner was modest, but as her mighty warhorse and formidably-sized claymore testified, her small frame belied the martial skill the young woman had honed on their journey.

It had been a long way in a short time, from farmgirl to heavy cavalrywoman.

One eyebrow rises;

"...Thentia? I see. Officially, I know nothing about the People's Army," the woman nods, with all the air of someone who thinks politics should be left to bleed out and dry, "But a good sword-arm is welcome. Hand me the orders- there might still be useful intelligence. Do you have the scout's body? Or a name?"



"Magical or mudane healing?" Daratha Shendrel's voice is clipped, "divine or arcane? Single or mass? Is that horse summoned, or a druid morphed into a steed? Will it charge into the flames?"

The firbolg's head popped up disapprovingly from a parchment of repair suggestions, "Wouldn't hold against a feather pillow," and he nodded politely to the Lord Protector, appreciating her military abruptness, and the pressures upon her, but also not overly impressed with the capabilities in defence, nor the courtesy in welcoming and accepting allies to a desperate cause.

Still, now was not the time to quibble or wander.

"Well met, Lord Protector Shendrel," U'lin addressed gravely, but with a gentle strength instead of weary shortness.  Between Emma's support, the party's protection of the guards and townsfolk, and seeing efforts to hold together the city, U'lin's spirits, so crushed at the devastation, had recovered themselves and rebuilt for action.

"I am U'lin, servant of Gond, smith-crafter.  The upper level blessings given unto me are spent in our travels against giants and werewolves, but I retain steel and divine punishment in defence, and first and second order divine blessings.

"I have skills and art remaining for:
- combat,
- triage and area healing, and
- creation of water.
Longer-term, I can continue with:
- ranged and front-line offence
- defence, and
- repair or construction.  Personal arms and armour, siege-work devices, and so forth - though that is tasks of longer time work.

"With a solid rest -if the matter protracts- I can summon spirits to help defend with radiance against incursion of thirty feet around me,  or potentially address other needs - speaking with the fallen, Sendings, other healings... such manner of things, for instance.

"I expect that you have many needs, but don't know us.  If you wish to outline a few of the more pressing, we can outline what is within our skills confidently, or that we can try.


"We brought the orders with us, as well as a pair of the arrows.  The good scout's body is below -in one of our wagons, under watch of our wagonminder- to permit final resting rites."

"As U'lin has said, our travels have greatly taxed our strength. Where mundane care, supplies and prayers are concerned," she patted her substantial pouch of salves, bandages and tinctures, "I will spare nothing to treat your wounded. But as for divine healing, I cannot presume more of the Great Mother's mercy, not without a lengthy period communing with Her. Neither has she seen fit to gift me with the ability to heal the masses. As for Glory here...she's exactly what she looks like ma'am. A fine Amphail-bred warhorse." Having never attempted such a feat herself, Claire was unsure if Glory would charge willingly through fire, but she trusted the military-trained Lord Protector to have a sense of what Amphail stock was capable of on the battlefield.

For a more meta sense of remaining resources:
10 charges Lay on Hands
1x L1 spell
1x L2 spell
This message was last edited by the player at 17:19, Thu 08 Oct 2020.

"Zaiya Avina, Wizard of some small ability"  Zaiya introduced herself.  "I've done my best to be frugal on the trip up here, and while I'll admit that I'm not perhaps equipped for straight up warfighting, I can still hurl a few Fireballs if it comes to that."

She paused for a moment.

"Or barring that, to neutralize the effects of a hostile spellcaster.  Truthfully, I'll admit that a place like this being under fire came as something of a surprise.

Not sure where the Orc letter ended up since we all took a hand at examining it, so for convenience I'll just say Moira stashed it with the other notes she's been keeping on the Uthgardt and Orcs.

"...Thentia? I see. Officially, I know nothing about the People's Army,"

Moira gave no reply to that aside from a finger tapped gently at the side of her nose.  The request for the procured orders was met promptly as she shuffled the paper - darkened with dried blood as it was - to offer up to the Lord Protector.  "None of us are fluent in this dialect of Dethek, but we puzzled out a bit of it.  Seems like it might be some kinda marchin' orders and timetable countin' th'moon stages.  Given th'Orc tribes' feud with th'Uthgardt war parties, m'best guess is they're keepin' an eye on when th'Uthgardt'll be their most powerful at th'next full moon." she theorized simply and hoped there was someone more linguistically skilled in Triboar's ranks.

"The good scout's body is below -in one of our wagons, under watch of our wagonminder- to permit final resting rites."

"Truthfully, I'll admit that a place like this being under fire came as something of a surprise."

There was no other choice but to nod in agreement on such remarks.  Moira also gave a brief description of the scout's appearance, as it seemed the Lord Protector was well-versed in recognizing her own troops.  "They're right.  Findin' that scout's body was a worry after we'd been hearin' th'roads were bein' patrolled, but I never thought t'see Triboar under siege.  What sparked all this off?  Did somethin' happen, or was it just a bolt outta th'blue?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:18, Thu 08 Oct 2020.

As the Lord Protector flips through the letter, she gives a heavy hiss;

"...you're not entirely wrong. The Uthgardt organize their feuds and warbands by the moon," Daratha sighs, tapping the paper, "which is why we organize our patrols by them as well. These are mobilization orders to attack Triboar. Tonight."

The woman quickly hands the slip of parchment over to a nearby officer, who immediately begins transcribing it onto the map;

"It also mentions possible rendezvous points. Vinderi, see if we can spare the men to look into this. If the bands are reorganizing for a second attack, we can intercept them."




"Essentially, we were betrayed," Daratha says, in the manner of one discussing the time of day, "our resident wizard, Hyuth Kolstagg, apparently allied with the local orc tribes and a pair of Fire Giants. Triboar was designed to fend off the full might of an Orcish horde. It was not prepared for the very geomancer who set up its wards and defences to disable them all before the attack, nor for a pair of Fire Giants to burst through the North-East wall and rampage through the entire wing."

Gesturing for the party to approach, Daratha begins to point at the more detailed map sprawled across the table, various markers and pieces indicating different types of activity across Triboar;

"Hyuth is now dead. My soldiers reported him and his gargoyles arguing, even fighting the Giants. They pulverised the warehouse he owns in the North-East wing, dug up some enormous chunk of metal, then left. The remains of Hyuth's constructs still guard the area, attacking anyone who approaches in a blind frenzy."

MAP OF TRIBOAR

"Orange marks are the worst of the flames. Grey are enemy sightings, green is our forces. Red is epicenter of Hyuth's fight, and the main problem we have right now."

"I need someone to neutralize the remnants of Hyuth's constructs along with whatever wards he might have remaining, so my men can enter the North-East wing to fight the flames there," the commander taps a bright red piece on the map, "Hyuth's miscreations are resistant to all but magical weapons and spells. I cannot spare my remaining spellcasters, they are too depleted and are focused on using their remaining skills to contain the blaze."



"Magical healing would be appreciated, but if you are short on resources, I rather have you focus on neutralizing key targets. Repair works can come later. The main force of the orcs scattered after the giants left and their apparent warchief was slain. All that's left are stragglers and greedy looters. Our focus now is on containment," she nods at each of the party in turn, apparently decided, "I am not your commanding officer, so I cannot order you- but given your unique skillset, I believe the four of you are best suited for dealing with the aftermath of Hyuth's actions. If you have any objections, state them now."
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:59, Thu 08 Oct 2020.

Claire glanced over at her companions with raised eyebrow. "A pair of giants wanting a chunk of rock bad enough to stamp all over a town? Sure is mighty fishy..."

"It's unfortunately a story all too familiar to us," she explained somberly to the Lord Protector. "Miss Moira and I are from Nightstone, you see. Headed up this way after the giant attack. As you probably know, it's trouble with giants all the way up the coast."

"Anyway, I've no objections to giving a shot at tackling that problem of yours," she points her thumb at the red marker in the northeast of Triboar. "What kind of 'constructs' are we talking about?"

U'lin coughed discretely at the suggestion of sending the limited forces out of town.
 “Perhaps leeriness about sending patrols out to the locations, Lord Protector.  A Great Hunt has been declared with the death of Greyback-Red-Clawed.  The Grey Wolves of the Three Directions have united to exterminate their Ancient Foe – a pair of members who were the driving force in the attack here, unless my guess is grossly off the calibrated mark.

“She-of-Six Claws, the leader to the south – south of Westbridge and farther south- has sortied against us twice, retreating twice from our full strength, but quick to challenge perceived isolation or weakness.  She and her band of Uthgardt werewolves have been tracking a fire giant that raided one of their holy sites, and looted an ancient giant storage vault of relic pieces too dangerous to be kept together.

“You might have mileage of a message being relayed to them of the giants’ location, if you knew, but they won’t care about orc armies any more than your town or people – I’m given to understand it’s the philosophy of either the hammer or a nail.  Rather poor analogy, of course, as you could melt down and reforge one into the other, but that’s what happens when folk try to philosophize about smithing works without understanding of the process.”

One of U’lin’s long, armoured fingers tapped directly upon the destroyed warehouse/theft of metal.  “I suspect the fire giants made some agreement with your mage for power, with no intent of keeping the agreement – then betrayed him back and simply stole their true goal of another fragment of ancient giant relicwork.  It explains how they moved so directly to their goal, and likely enough why your untrustworthy wizard wanted that particular place over all.  The fragment would have called to the pieces held by the fire giants, especially with their ability to read its signatures.  The mage likely found the magical aura, and concealed it, or was unconsciously drawn to the area – no sense to attribute all to craft what unconscious interest might explain.  Could be relic, could be artifact of giant make - but the fire giants are working hard to regather such for pushing their position in heirarchy.

“These two concentrations – do you have compositions of their forces, Lord Protector?” U’lin inquired, tapping the north and north-east grey group markers.  “Whether one or the other would be a path through to preserve our resources for the constructs?  Numbers on the constructs, and their types – all gargoyles?  Statuary?  Mechanical devices?  Animated blades and so forth?   No golems, I hope?

“Oh, unless you have storm or flood control tunnels below – I notice the two water systems circling the town?  Or sewer system?  A nice tunnel shortcut coming up around the far north-east side would certainly gain us much time, hmm?”
This message was last edited by the player at 00:52, Fri 09 Oct 2020.

A pause.

"That matches our own reports. Uthgardt mobilization was why we had so few forces here- however reinforcements would have arrived within-" the Lord Protector twitches, "was the entire thing a feint? How did- the signals were entirely crafted to mislead us. The Orc tribes, the Uthgardt response, the village attacks...all of it was manipulated? For tonight? That requires a level of tactical coordination far beyond what I expect of Orcs. But if they're working with Fire Giants..."

Daratha slams her longspear into the ground, gritting her teeth as she mutters to herself.

"We have some associates with the Uthgardt - they hate the orcs as well, though if a Great Hunt has been organised, they will likely ignore our requests. Can't send a bird, they don't trust magic...and they might turn on Triboar in our weakened state. No, I'll not be drawing the Uthgardt's attention here, not until the situation is more under control. We can revisit that possibility then."



"There -is- a sewer system," Daratha answers, voice icy, "we sealed the nearby manholes after the first wave of orc assassins burst in, past the disabled wards, and took out the people holding the Western gate. Chances are, even more of the orc stragglers are present there than in town."

"The grey markers are sightings, but most are small squads, no bigger than three or four Orcs mounted on Axebeaks. Maybe an ogre. No spellcasters so far. No further assassins."



"Gargoyles," the commander makes a gesture with her hands, and one of the officers around the table hands her a crude sketch of a bat-winged humanoid made of stone, "about half a dozen lesser ones, medium sized, along with a single large one that functioned as his personal bodyguard. They all look like deformed Dragonborn, if you are familiar with the race. Hyuth claims he created them, but my own sources suggest he found the main dragonoid construct and modeled the lesser gargoyles off it. They can fly, are resistant to non-magical attacks, and have nasty claws and a bite. Good senses too- Hyuth primarily used them as scouts and guardians for his properties, occasionally loaning them out to our patrols."

"The big one also has some sort of dragon's breath- three weeks ago some thieves tried to steal from him and the whole of Triboar got treated to the sight of a flying, fire-breathing dragon-construct chasing a pair of dwarves up into the creek."

In the brief moment U'lin paused for breath somewhere in between his explanation of the Uthgardt behavior recently and moving onto theorizing about the Fire Giants' methods, Moira gently interjected.  "We've become a mite gnarled in th'whole affair plaguin' th'coast as we've traveled up it.  Encounterin' these sites, meetin' leaders from Waterdeep, Amphail, Red Larch... there's a lot goin' on.  We can give y'a broader report of what's been afoot when th'opportunity comes.  Short of it is that th'Giants are th'cause of everythin' goin' amiss of late - seems it starts and ends with 'em." she didn't interrupt U'lin to silence him, but merely to offer the Lord Protector a bit of context as to why he spontaneously seemed to have such in-depth knowledge.  With that, she let the Firbolg continue while she examined the map alongside Claire.

The Lord Protector's continued explanations as to what they would face with the gargoyles ensured a sour look out of Moira.  Despite her initial respectful manner in line with military protocol, she couldn't help but blow a hiss through her teeth at the prospect of such beasts being within a town.  "A nastiness of Gargoyles?  In Triboar?"  Moira resisted the urge to spit. "Ain't never heard of one spewin' dragonfire though.  Hate t'speculate, but sounds more like y'wizard was lyin' and got himself a bunch of genuine Gargoyles and one big... somethin' else.  Whatever it is.

From what I know of th'talk and supplyin' trade for mages past?  Gargoyles ain't constructed critters but sorta like Elementals - genuine livin' stone.  Mages like harvestin' their horns as potion ingredients, and they're vicious guards on account of 'em bein' tougher than Ogres and only just smart 'nuff t'be cruel.  Damn things are pure evil and delight in torture.  Roads are full of tales of those beasts draggin' travelers into old ruins they guard and havin' a party rippin' 'em t'shreds.  Don't even eat 'em - they just like hearin' th'screams."  There was clear, outright disdain in the Halfling's manner, galled by the very notion of such monsters being among people.  "Never should've been allowed within a hundred miles of civilization.  They might be confused now, but they're gonna get bored and bloodthirsty real damn quick."

Arcana/History, to see if Moira has any folklore knowledge about Gargoyles
Moira Ruadh rolled 18 using 1d20
This message was last edited by the player at 02:21, Fri 09 Oct 2020.

"Possible. We were skeptical at first, but the ones 'loaned' to us behaved more like constructs than living creatures," Daratha explains, "Hyuth claimed he had them fully under his control, and while I had my doubts about the man's character his contributions were too useful to turn away. If these gargoyles were...enslaved rather than created, that would explain why they are going berserk now instead of merely shutting down."

"Either way, they must be stopped."

"This shit right here's exactly why I don't trust mortal magic." the Halfling cursed, only partially under her breath.  It most certainly wasn't the time to throw insults or accusations about, but the compromise in principle - that the Lord Protector would permit such dangerous monstrosities, to actually indulge their use herself - because of a mage's assurances and because they merely seemed useful?  It disgusted her.  But her own feelings on the topic were irrelevant for the moment; what mattered then was addressing the threat for the sake of the survivors.

"Are th'Gargoyles stickin' close at th'mage's estate or d'ya figure they can be lured away?  If we can get 'em up near th'north gate, our builder here's got a set of half-pint catapults mounted on our wagons.  Bet they'd do a great service in this sorta fight.  Mundane shot won't hurt 'em, but it'll knock 'em outta th'sky sure as any." she gave a look U'lin's way, knowing how eager he'd been to put his creations to the test.  And in a fight against such foulness, she could think of no better application of Gond's designs.  "Too much a risk t'use 'em inside th'walls though, what with survivors scattered 'bout who knows where."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:52, Fri 09 Oct 2020.

"The gargoyles refuse to move more than a hundred feet from the area- we tried that tactic and nearly paid for it," the Lord Protector explains, "you can try setting up nearby, but the entire area is thick with smoke and there might still be orc stragglers wandering around. I can spare a squad of three men to help arm your catapults, assuming you can clear a staging area..."

"Kolstagg's actual estate is in the South-West wing actually. No one's investigated it yet- too heavily warded. The gargoyles are all concentrated around the warehouse he built recently- a cover for whatever artifact he was digging up, based on the information from your friend here," she nods at U'lin, "its possible that something important remains there, or that they are simply protecting his corpse."

"The presence of the gargoyles have made it difficult for my men to evacuate the area- many survivors likely remain trapped in the North-East wing, especially since the Giants basically cut a straight path through the wall to the warehouse and all buildings in between," Daratha rumages through the documents, and pulls out a sketch of what appears to be a very old and very surly looking dwarf, "among the missing civilians is one Gheryn Foehammer, a master dwarven smith who retired in Triboar long before it was turned into the encampment it is today. His shop was in the path of the Fire Giants, and may contain magical weapons that could aid you against the gargoyles. If Gheryn is still alive, I would ask that you rescue him as well - though he refuses to smith for the Guard, his skill will be essential for rebuilding Triboar."
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:32, Fri 09 Oct 2020.

U'lin stiffened at Moira's jab towards his catapults.  The Hin had been ever difficult in acceptance when it came to the Iron Beetle, but didn't she know that now was _not_ the time to throw insults about?

"They are most decidedly _not_ half-pint catapults.  They are quite excellently paired and balanced light catapults, with superior range, and an automatic rewinding mechanism, with offset triggering pulls, so you can manage both catapults even at a full gallop of the pulling horses...

"Ahem.  Yes, they are equipped for assistance.  They were designed for clearing a path of obstruction, but would work suitably for reach support."

OOC: Okay I laughed way too hard at that. Thanks for brightening my day - gain Inspiration as well U'lin, that  piece of characterization was a completely on point.

EDIT: Regarding actually using the catapults- the map's not properly to scale, but if you could secure the area the small garden/park near the pond to the west of the Red Marker would be an appropriate staging point. The smoke and buildings would obscure anything further.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:40, Fri 09 Oct 2020.

The way U'lin bristled caught Moira a bit off-guard, though she hardly had it in her to banter or bicker in her usual manner just then.  "Never said they weren't, U'lin.  Just smaller, is all." she could only give a helpless shrug.  The Firbolg was hard to gauge and she couldn't get a handle on him even on her best day, let alone when she was running purely on adrenaline fumes.

"Among the missing civilians is one Gheryn Foehammer... If Gheryn is still alive, I would ask that you rescue him as well."

At the mention of the Dwarf, Moira felt a sharp prickling across the backs of her hands and raised one to examine her gilded fingers.  By that point the metallic gleam that had surged along her limbs had faded away outside of the immediate threat of battle but, as she balled her fist, the crawling vines of golden-inlaid ivy across her flesh shone all on their own.  "We'll be helpin' him out too then.  Foehammer's still alive, no doubt of it." The absolute assurance in her voice made it obvious that, wherever that confidence was drawn from, Moira was positive the Dwarf yet lived.  "Seems a plan then.  We cut through th'wreckage for Foehammer's shop t'see if we can find any trace of th'fella, salvage what we can t'help for th'fight, then route th'Gargoyles from where they nest.  If they won't move far, means we can use guerilla fightin' t'pick 'em off one at a time."

Though she seemed to have every confidence that Foehammer was fine, another shade of doubt cast itself over Moira's features as she looked about the gathered wounded once again.  "Lord Protector, I know it's a longshot but... where's th'local branch of th'Lionshield Coster at?  It's proprietress, Alaestra; d'ya know of her one way or another?"

The commander shoots a look at one of the scribes, who skims her records for a moment before shaking her head;

"...not reported. Still missing," the Lord Protector's tone remains clipped, though a bit of sympathy eases it's way into her voice, "the Coster is not far from Foehammer's smithy in the North-East wing. Three houses east."

U'lin made a nod and flick away gesture of all good, even a bit sheepish expression on his face for biting on a sensitive spot, when the language clearly was appropriated back by the little folk to no longer be a depreciation of effect or quality.

"Yes, that seems wise a plan, Moira.  Certainly the chance to rescue a dwarven mastersmith is too important to pass, let alone resources to aid our battle against the gargoyles and constructs.  He may have much valuable information in addition to his priceless skills.

"Depending on the scale of this map... I should think here, the small remaining piece of greenspace.  We would prefer a minimum of 60', longer if possible to extend the range.  Here is the outer range, in clear air, but with all the smoke occlusion in the air, I would think
that is about the farthest we can extend the engagement.  So, either north of the fire, along the road, or in the greenspace, if we clear out the north-east group of orcs."

Ooc: I'm going to pause here to let Zaiya and Claire a chance to ask their own questions or at least comment in the situation. If there's anything that doesn't require Daratha to specifically answer, Moira and U'lin, feel free to PM me for now.

"Foehammer..." The name rang a bell with Claire, who recalled the letter from her father's Waterdeep vault. "I think my da knew him." It was settled then, they'd go get him, dead or alive.

"I presume it would be wise to remove Emma, Thente and that little boy to safety before we begin bombarding the gargoyles, yea?" Not to mention Stoor and the scout's bodies. "Let's take into account time for that too," she suggested, anxious not to put the helpless Thente in needless danger.

"Iron Beetle or no, if we can bring 'em here safely now that we know th'way's clear, that'd be for th'better, yea."  Moira agreed before she addressed the Lord Protector once more.  "We stowed our wagons at th'quarry when we first got here.  We've two more in our company - one of who's taken ill - as well as a survivor.  A boy; his folks didn't make it.  Can y'spare those men t'help get our lot in th'Keep?  Miss Emma's an alchemist - she might be able t'give a hand for th'wounded here if y'got supplies she can use."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:31, Fri 09 Oct 2020.

"Gargoyles are a touch matchup if they're resistant to conventional harm"  Zaiya muttered.  "I can restrain them--I can even hurt them a bit if I put all of my power towards that...  A good deal though depends on how resistant they are to fire--most of my attacking magic is based on explosive force and heat, if they're hardened against that as well, I'll have only a handful of options--enough to take out one or maybe two with some help, but I'd tap out in a hurry and then we'd be in a pinch.  Better to find Foehammer I think and see if he has anything to offer and go from there."

"Hyuth Kolstagg was a skilled transmuter and abjurer- he supplied most of the city's anti-siege wards, which includes fire-proofing. Whether he enchanted his servants with the same protections, I never managed to find out. But I'm reasonably certain he would have, given that he expected to meet with Fire Giants tonight."

"Now, do we have a squad we can spare for the mission?" asks Daratha, signaling one of the officers near the map table. Said man seems to think for a moment before nodding;

"...Grimes and his squad were goin' to take a crack with heavy crossbows 'n whatever few magic bolts they could scavenge inna'alf an hour. This'll be 'bout the same, we can shuffle them over," the soldier (a captain, from the looks of it) explains.

"Another trained healer would ease the pressure...we've yet to lose anyone that's been brought in but an extra pair of skilled hands would be immensely helpful," another officer dressed in light green fatigues adds.

"Good! Everyone's heard the plan, now move! You there, go get Staff-Sergeant Grimes and the rest of his marksmen," Lord Protector Daratha points at a nearby messenger with her one good arm, her voice carrying over the low din of the crowd, "Simmic! I need a space cleared for the wagon, and a volunteer to look after an orphan. Setup a third healing station at the South-West bloc! Someone get me the latest scout reports from the area. Who has the last known gargoyle count?! Report!"

UPDATED MAP OF TRIBOAR

Orange = Flames, still spreading
Green = Friendly units
Grey = Recent Enemy Sightings
Red = Gargoyles
Purple = Foehammer's Smithy
Yellow = The Lionshield Coster

Alright, it'll take about ten minutes or so for the wagon to be escorted over and the men saddled up. Feel free to take this time to cast spells or prepare buffs.

What's the party's first approach? Stealth will be trickier with Glory and the catapults, but not impossible. Which location is he party heading to first? And via what route (no need for specifics, just tell me if you are taking additional precautions like staying to alleyways or trying to disguise the cart)
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:32, Fri 09 Oct 2020.

Looks like there's no efficient way to hit everything in one circuit.  If we hit Foehammer's property first, we could either double back around to the south to come up through the greenspace like U'lin mentioned, or just get right to the fight from thereabouts outside the shop - assuming there's enough room to skirt the 100' known limit the Gargoyles travel within.  Either way we're going to be dealing with fires on two sides and the possibility of encountering at least one enemy group en route.

I'd say I probably prefer the greenspace for an angle of attack, if for no other reason than that there's more cover with all the trees and water.  We know one of the enemies has a breath weapon, so having more things we can hide behind and obscure line-of-sight with is better.

Ideally we can plunk the Iron Beetle and any non-stealthy folk right at the edge of the 100' and try to lure one or two Gargoyles to us at a time, rather than having to deal with the entire gang of them all at once.  Even if we can't manage that and have to fight their full numbers, hopefully they actually do have a hard limit on their range and we can whittle them down with hit-and-run tactics.

Unfortunately for Moira, there's no good way to get to her friend's shop straight-away without abandoning the other two missions in the process, so there's no choice but to reserve that for last and hope for the best.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:18, Fri 09 Oct 2020.

OOC:
The map seems much more favourble to clear the north baddie patrol, giving us a straight shot to the armoury/smith recovery, and option to have a retreating fight back towards our reinforcements along the north road.
OR obtaining arms, then circling around for the woods cover... though that does put us into direct conflict with a second group, and close to two other groups, including that central group, and the east group - the two I'd expect to be the largest/strongest.

The biggest thing I don't like about the woods is baddies on all sides, and no good retreat lane.  If we went directly to the woods, any reinforcement call could have us surrounded on all sides, facing unknown number of rampaging gargoyles, a fire-breathing construct, a handful of ogres, and upwards of sixteen axebeak orcriders.

Now if I had my 3rd levels, it might not concern me :p

I'm leaning towards agreeing with U'lin about the risks of staging from the pond/park area. It does look like we could potentially be sandwiched from all sides if we're unlucky.

Shall we clear out the north road and see how it goes from there? If it looks like there's an opportunity to slip in and grab Foehammer without getting into a fight with the gargoyles, we could exploit it. These sort of things might be more evident from the ground.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:02, Fri 09 Oct 2020.

Works for me, sure.  I'm assuming/hoping the chance of encountering an enemy at the grey point is based on an encounter dice roll, so we might get lucky.  Either route has the potential for our escape route to get blocked off by spreading flames, so that's a moot point.

OOC: North grey dot it is!

Eventually, a trio of soldiers in light armor turns up with the wagon. A oddly calm Emma is quickly escorted to the medical tents, while an elderly woman (the boy's grandaunt it seems) takes charge of the orphan. Meanwhile, the leader of the trio introduces himself as Staff-Sergeant Fidelity Grimes, part of an elite ranger unit with the Triboar guard. They bring with them a set of heavily-modified crossbows and half a dozen magic bolts.

"Last sighting was twenty minutes ago. Orc party got into a skirmish with the gargoyles - with luck, there might be one less. So you only have five and the big one," the Lord Protector taps the circle on the map as the party makes to move, "the mansion to the left of the Northern Gate belongs to Sir Esta Immet- she was a skilled knight and duelist in her younger days before she retired to Triboar with her husband. Both are currently residing inside the Keep- they have asked, and I quote, that you 'are free to bring our lovely mansion down on those orc bastards if you need to' but to 'avoid wrecking the front yard'."

"Staff-Sergeant Grimes, you are to defer to Deputy-Captain Moira's authority for the purposes of this mission. In lieu of additional orders, use your best judgement. Dismissed!"

---

Bringing the cart up the northern road is fairly straightfoward. No much in the way of fires, though the horses are clearly tired and reluctant to approach to north-east park. As the group approaches the mansion where the previous orc stragglers were spotted, they hear an unusual sound. A loud crack, followed by the heavy thud of stone crushing against stone.

Just outside the ruins of the Immet estate are two ogres. One of them grips a long stone pillar about five-feet tall. The other has a pile of rubble next to him, along with several tied-up burlap sacks that have been loaded onto a cart. As you watch, the second ogre grabs a chunk of mansory rubble and hurls it at the first ogre. With a resounding crack the first ogre smacks the hunk of stone into the main wing of the mansion, punching through the collapsing walls while throwing up huge plumes of splinters and dust. The creatures laugh, then move to swap places, continuing their game of demolishing the once beautiful estate.

"So, eh...what's the play Ma'am?" Staff-Sergeant Grimes whispers to Moira.

Currently, the ogres are still ~100ft away, and seem too engrossed in their game to notice the Iron Beetle for now. Anyone trying to get closer or engage them will need to make a DC 11 stealth check to see if they notice.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:45, Sat 10 Oct 2020.

"If I can get a bit closer, I can drop some grease down there..."  Zaiya mumbles, considering her options.  "Trip them up and slow them down a bit...  Web wouldn't be the best choice though, they'd break out too easily."

She paused briefly.

"Or I could just chuck a fireball at them and see it go boom, I don't think Ogres are known to be particularly fire resistant, your call."

Back in command again...

In her time at Nightstone and traveling with everyone north, Moira had certainly been in the habit of barking out orders and managing what others did.  Perhaps too much, she'd realized a bit too late.  She'd been doing it for years - managing caravans, businesses, and even military units.  Taking the responsibility of leadership and asserting command came naturally to her even to the extent that it urged her to do so when she really would've been better off letting others step up instead.  But having a deputy-title dropped on her head gave Moira a sickening feeling of deja vu as, for another fleeting moment, her memories spirited her away to Hillsfar.

---

In the smoke-laden midst of Triboar, Moira scrutinized their options for getting the Ogres out of the way.  Of course a full-frontal attack was always on the table, but that guaranteed injuries when they needed to be in the best condition they could be in for the Gargoyles.  The Halfling looked about to the distant ruins of the mage's manor where their next targets awaited and - perhaps in the somewhat addled state of exhaustion she was in - couldn't help but feel a crazy plan brew about in her thoughts.  Back at Nightstone when they'd encountered a pair of Ogres prior, she'd played at confusing them.  It hadn't worked at all because of the violence of the encounter, but...

"Think I might got somethin' goin'.  U'lin, y'feel like takin' point for us here?" Moira prompted.  "Y'use that shape-changin' magic y'can do t'make y'self look like an Orc boss and go shout at those Ogres that there's treasure and survivors hidin' in th'manor.  Get 'em t'have a go at fightin' th'Gargoyles for us and let th'monsters rip each other apart while we slip past t'Foehammer's place.

Meantime, th'rest of us hang back with weapons and spells ready t'hit th'Ogres hard by surprise if they don't take th'bait.  Grimes; y'self and y'men should stay with th'Iron Beetle.  Keep th'horses ready t'move at a moment's notice and man th'catapults t'back us up."

Diversions and deceptions were fundamentals in any battle, especially with dull-witted enemies like Ogres.  They were just smart enough to hold a conversation with and trick as has been her experience, given their base desires driving their choices.  Even so, it would still be dangerous and she offered U'lin an out.  "Y'would be puttin' y'self up in front though, U'lin, so I ain't gonna ask y't'make that sorta risk if y'don't wanna.  We can just make a surprise attack on th'two if y'would rather."

"It's always been a natural protection for us, for ancestral avoidance of trouble," U'lin mused, nodding at Moira's suggestion.  "It's not dissimilar to the giant gambit earlier... just less hiding from rocks, and more trying to redirect rocks in advance.

"And I mean, look at that gratuitious smashing of the building, just wanton and cruel destruction of creations.  Horrible.

"I'll go, Moira.

"Staff-Sergeant Grimes - are you able to describe what the leaders wear?  Colour, shape?  Do the leaders do different hairstyle or tattoos?  Hmmm..hhmmm.. Okay, so more spiky, like this?  Even though the spikes interfere with movement, and would help channel swordblades into the joints?  Strangeness.  Colours?  Mmhmm... okay.  Neutrals, mmhmm.  Really, that much in the way of scarring?  Okay.  So, something along this?  REally, bigger?

"What's their speaking style?  The orcs to the ogres, I mean."  The firbolg blinked... more than once, but nodded along with replies.

Gathering his mental image was a different process this time - not a copy of an image, but a piecing together of sketches, examples, and mental crafting.  This was a gradual change, the firbolg thickening, shrinking slightly, but into a much stockier form, and much larger than a human.  The elegance and quality of U'lin's self-crafted plate armour blurred into broken spikes of scratched and bloodied chain and spiked shoulders, with a banded torso of overlapping metal plates.  The hammer he carried became jagged, bloody, and festooned with signs of battle, and a pair of ugly daggers hung upon his hips, even as his legs turned thick with muscle within torn and bloody leather pants that, moments later, found themselves garbed in crude greaves.

The smiling face of U'lin sharpened, broadened, and snarled menacingly.  His left eye turned milky-while, reinforcing the scar running across it and down to one orcan ear, festooned with golden ear rings, and multiple scars; the remaining eye blazed an angry green.  His lip split, thickened with scar tissue, and other scars emerges across his neck and bared forearms.  Thick, long black hair spilled in a matted and knotted mess down his back, and he growled, again lower, then marched directly at the ogres.

Ready or not, here I come.

---

OOC: Disguise self to look as an orcish commander, then marching over.
22:12, Today: U'lin rolled 1,12,2 using d20-1,d20-1,d4.  Deception .
Not great, but it's ogres.
Disguise14

The ogres pause as U'lin approaches, stiffening slightly at the sight of his many 'tattoos'. The one holding the pillar moves it behind him, as if his bulk could somehow hide the make-shift blunt instrument.

"What's their speaking style?  The orcs to the ogres, I mean."

That question got the most dour, serious-toned expression from Moira that any had ever seen her wear as she squared herself to U'lin with all the somberness of asking him to endanger his own life.  "U'lin, this is th'hardest part of all: y'gotta say as little as possible."

She continued to try and explain as best she could on the matter given her own experiences.  Orcs she'd dealt with prior were curt to say the least; harsh, brusque statements with no flowery embellishments or figures of speech.  They said what they meant and let violence handle any miscommunications.  Ogres, meanwhile, were practically monosyllabic and generally couldn't even understand the most simple of flowery analogies.

"They respond t'strength, so y'gotta be forceful.  Commandin'.  Remember, you're their boss.  Y'ain't askin' 'em t'do somethin', you're orderin' 'em t'do it.  And y'gotta do it in as few words as possible.  Think of it like sendin' short reports t'SEER.  Short and t'th'point."

---

Once U'lin was off, Moira lingered in wait with the others, crossbow at the ready to strike at the first sign of things going awry.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:42, Sun 11 Oct 2020.

I Should compliment their effor- NO!  Absolutely not!  U'lin shook his head, grimacing at the mere idea, and the orc face snarled in kind.  'Say as little as possible.' Say as little as possible.'

"Get off yer ass, and get rid of the gargoyles!  NOW!  Knock down their building if you want, but get rid of them - they attacked two other patrols.
Well?  GET MOVING, BLOCKHEADS!!" He gestured his bloody axe-hammer in direction of the gargoyle residence.

Should something else be said?  No - Moira said less-is-more.

U'lin glowered, the orc commander expecting action.

 the nearest ogre gestures at the cart piled high with sacks.

U'lin, you may make me an Intimidation or Persuasion check along with your reply to the ogres at Advantage. No guidance for this one.

U'lin-the-orc commander spat in direction of the wagon, but kept his eyes focused on the two ogres, as though the idea was simply too dumb that he had not thought of it before, and didn't even need to look at what the ogres had to point.

""  U'lin cursed and growled, pointing towards the gargoyle warehouse, whether or not it was visible - thankfully, with the map, he knew where to point.

---

OOC:
13:28, Today: U'lin rolled 19,17 using d20+1,d20+1.  Persuasion .
Persuasion19!
EDIT: oops, ty, yes, DM.  I keep forgetting about the language groups.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:30, Mon 12 Oct 2020.

OOC: I assume U'lin is still speaking in Giant

[Language unknown: "Es, ugh os." "Illlatith an."]

The ogres nod frantically at U'lins proclaimation. One of them grabs an empty sack and fills it with rubble. The other dumps the pillar and begins dragging what looks like an enormous wooden greatclub. The two shoot one last look at U'lin, shudder, then dash off in the direction of the park.

A few minutes pass in silence.

Then, a horrid screeching fills the air, echoing from the direction of the warehouse. From their position, U'lin can see shadowy winged figures flitting up into the air against the orange glow of the fires. Then, a familiar crack sounds out, followed by a chunk of rubble hitting the flying creature with disturbing accuracy. The creature- gargoyle, screechings angrily again, the sound carrying easily across the city, then dives back down.

It appears you have your distraction.

What's the next step? Entire party to Foehammer's shop? Split up and setup at the park? Go straight for the commotion? The fight won't last more than a minute or two.

"Oh gods, this is actually workin'."  Moira seemed equal parts amazed and delighted to see her scheme come together in the end.  She'd fooled Ogres before by talking them in circles, but U'lin really came through with his performance.  Once the Ogres lumbered away she hurriedly gestured for everyone to get on the move and hustled herself on over to the disguised-Firbolg's side.

"Fantastic job, U'lin!  C'mon, let's hurry and get 'round t'Foehammer's place while th'gettin's good." she urged the others along with a wave.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:41, Mon 12 Oct 2020.

Skirting around the flames and smoke while the gargoyles are preoccupied with the ogres is...considerably easier with the ogres, Moira quickly realises. For one thing, the horrid, monotonous screeching that surely emits from the creatures is beginning to take its toll. As the Iron Beetle strafes around the corner and rumbles towards the location of Foehammer's workshop U'lin can see one of the flying figures pause for a moment. It turns to face the group, but then gets swatted out of the sky by another rock. Deep roars meet heavy screeching and interestingly enough- seem to attract the attention of other orcish patrols. Black arrows and guttural shouts mix with the screeching of the gargoyle creatures as the chaos unfurls a scant two hundred feet away.

Foehammer's smithy is a wreck.

The roof has clearly caved in, from what appears to be an enormous boulder the size of a fully grown orc. Unlike the ones used by the Hills this rock looks rather aerodynamic, smooth and round like a cannonball. The boulder has smashed through the western wall of the smithy, collapsing the roof and sparking a small fire somewhere. Plumes of smoke and sparks gutter from cracks in the rubble. Searching through this wreck would take considerable time and strength.

Digging through the smithy for people/tools will require a mix of Investigation/Perception and Athletics. Specifically, it will need 3 successful DC 15 Investigation/Perception checks and 3 DC 15 Athletics checks, made across the party. Everyone may make the attempt, however each repeated attempt will cost more time, especially if the same PC is making all the checks. Help actions and guidance can be used, but will also count against the time. Sergeant Grimes and his squad are busy manning the squad and keeping a watch on the gargoyles, and thus cannot help you with this search.

Since this is a PbP - I would ask that anyone attempting make 3 rolls of whatever check you want to attempt (if you are using the help action or guidance, it takes the place of one of the rolls), and I'll resolve them in the order than most benefits the party..

No longer wound up like a spring atop Glory, waiting to charge out to U'lin's aid, Claire grinned for the rare bit of luck that they'd been blessed with. "Wonderful acting there U'lin!" Dismounting for the sake of a lower profile, she leads her mount along with the rest of the party to Foehammer's shophouse.

Or at least what was left of it. "Sure is a piece of work, alright. Let's not dally any longer, he might still be inside, hopefully safe in a basement." Glancing around urgently, Claire searches for a good-sized timber to use as a lever. Identifying the bigger pieces of rubble, she yokes them to Glory with a length of rope, attempting to pivot the largest pieces of rubble out of the way with the help of her loyal steed's brute power.

Athletics: 21, 8, 24
00:20, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 14 using 1d20+5.  Athletics.
01:14, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 21 using 1d20+5.

00:20, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 6 using 1d20+5.
01:14, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 8 using 1d20+5.

00:20, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 9 using 1d20+5.
01:14, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 24 using 1d20+5.

OOC: 2 successes!
This message was last edited by the player at 06:15, Mon 12 Oct 2020.

I'll say yes. Go ahead and make those checks at advantage.

It sounded as though their ploy was dragging more Orcs into the fray as well, which could go either way.  It might've resulted in more of the invaders being killed or driven off if they didn't have magic weapons, after all, or any spellcasters in their ranks burning their reserves of energy in fighting the winged monstrosities.  So long as the party didn't end up in the crossfire, it seemed like a win-win.

"Damnation, what a wreck..." Moira was far from the most burly of folk, but that's what tools were for.  She pulled a stout crowbar from where it was latched at the side of her pack in preparation to lend a hand once Glory finished pulling the bigger portions of rubble away.

I'm just going to hold off on making any rolls at the moment to see Claire's final dice results.  The Crowbar item thankfully gives Advantage on Strength checks on its own, so even with Moira's -1 STR mod she might be able to pick up the slack.  Moira's got a +4 to Perception and +0 to Investigation, so those checks might be better saved for U'lin and Zaiya.

OOC: Looks like Claire has 2 successes. Your go Moira

After doing my rolls, I remembered that Moira's still Exhausted, so she's making checks at Disadvantage.  So it'd just be a flat-roll thanks to the Crowbar, but...

Moira Ruadh rolled 10 using 1d20-1.  Athletics.
Moira Ruadh rolled 13 using 1d20-1.  Athletics w/Advantage.

Moira Ruadh rolled 8 using 1d20-1.  Athletics.
Moira Ruadh rolled 4 using 1d20-1.  Athletics w/Advantage.

Moira Ruadh rolled 4 using 1d20-1.  Athletics.
Moira Ruadh rolled 13 using 1d20-1.  Athletics w/Advantage.

Moira's heckin' tired, y'all.  If U'lin can spare a Guidance for that 13 roll, I might be able to bounce it up past the DC 15 threshold.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:37, Mon 12 Oct 2020.

OOC: I'll allow that retroactive guidance (since U'lin can cast it at the start and hold it until Moira decides to spend the boost), though that would mean U'lin can only make 2 attempts at persuasion before events "progress".

Ooh, wait, didn't I get a point of Inspiration a while back for that "Constitution Checks/Saves" thing?  Could I use that for the roll instead?  Is it a re-roll, Advantage, or a bonus to the roll?
This message was last edited by the player at 07:05, Mon 12 Oct 2020.

OOC: Its advantage, not a reroll I'm afraid. Also I believe multiple sources of advantage/disadvantage just negate each other completely. You can use Inspiration to give someone else unconditional advantage on THEIR roll though - wink wink nudge nudge
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:17, Mon 12 Oct 2020.

Good to know then.  I'll save it for someone else's roll then, if we come up short in the next batch.

"Right!  Go, go, go..."  Zaiya mumbled as she hopped out, opening her book and checking her notes against the debris.  "Not a lot of time...  But if there's anything to find, we'll find it here.  Just make sure to clear things out for me!"

She took very, very good notes after all, even setting aside the other properties of her reference.  Shouldn't be too hard in light of that to figure out what's valuable and what isn't.

OOC:  Three investigation checks with advantage courtesy of my book, all of them scored 15 or higher, huzzah!

OOC: I'm not sure why Zaiya is getting her advantage from, currently waiting on her response in the PMs. U'lin, you should rolls without considering Zaiya's results for now

Unlike Zaiya's disciplined and precise examination, U'lin split his time between watching for trouble in his disguised form, and periodically being drawn back into movement of things, leaning over to help hold a broken beam, poking his head around in quick curiosity - where his quick observance of the forest of things would not become lost in the trees.  The process worked significantly well, and raised interesting question if it was U'lin's mind that shapes his observation, or his observational skills that had shaped how he focused and thought.

"Don't forget to use the leverage point -a bit farther up the cross-brace... yes, there!  Well done, Moira!  Well done, Claire and Glory."

---

OOC:
08:43, Today: U'lin rolled 19,8 using d20+7,d20+7.  Perception.
08:43, Today: U'lin rolled 13,26 using d20+7,d20+7.
third action spent on the Guidance for Moira's success, but that does give her the third physical success

OOC: why is everyone rolling with advantage lol. I will take the left most values that U'lin has put down. So one success, one failure.

Based on this you guys have three athletics successes and one perception success. Moira, if you spend your Inspiration on Zaiya's rolls, I will basically treat her attempts as having two effective successes (first roll advantage got a 15, the next two rolls had a 24 as the higher of the two rolls, so that's two successes total). What do you think?
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:56, Mon 12 Oct 2020.

Digging through the wreckage is difficult work, made more so by the ever-looming threat of the battle a few houses away. With the help of Glory, some prayer and the mighty crowbar however, the four adventurers are able to make some progress through clearing a path into the smithy itself.

Though the inside appears unlit, the small flames nearby provide sufficient illumination. Broken tools and furniture litter the ground, mixed with gravel and rocks. Zaiya, with her darkvision and penchant for magical items, immediately spots the remains of some sort of enchanted bow. Said weapon had apparently been dismantled into seventeen different pieces, each of which is now scattered hapazardly over the floor.

In another corner, half buried by rubble, is a broken glass case in which one can see a long, slim rapier etched with dwavern runes. Thick bronze chains have been wrapped around the entire blade, as if to bury it in bindings. In the darkness of the smithy, the blade itself glows a faint, shimmering blue. Moira and Zaiya recall tales of supposed "sentinel" weapons, items that reacted to the presence of specific creatures or danger by flaring with a warning light.

However, that is far from the most unusual sight the party finds.

Sprawled in the middle of what might be the living room is a small child-like figure with wispy brown curls. As the group gets closer, they realize that the unconscious figure is actually a goblin. A female one, judging from the servant's attire she is wearing, brown with a simple dress for movement. Her thin form is sprawled over a what appears to be a portable display case, as long as she is tall. The glass cover of the container is cracked from some sort of impact, while several pieces of rubble lie next to her prone form.

Outside, the noise of battle seems to grow louder and more frentic, as the fight between the orcs and the gargoyles moves closer down the streets. Noticing this, Sergeant Grimes and his men back further away, trying to stay out of sight. It seems the party slipped in just in time.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:51, Mon 12 Oct 2020.

Even with tools and the watchful eye of an engineer, heavy labor was decidedly rougher than than one might initially think.  Or perhaps it just felt that way to Moira as she found her strength flagging very quickly when the extra exertion made her exhaustion catch up to her.  There were quite a few moments where she lagged down behind the rest of the group in their progress, unable to keep pace with the work as her vision swam and forced her to spend a few moments to regather herself.

While the others worked at tugging away a fallen support beam with Glory's hauling power, the Halfling inched aside just out of immediate line of sight and drummed her fingertips on her heirloom belt pouch.  "Ginger root, please." As requested, the enchanted trinket produced a cluster of fresh root that she quickly hefted up into her mouth whole.  A very bad idea in most cases, really.  The Halfling took a moment of clapping her palm across her mouth to force herself to chew in spite of the eye-watering burn.  Washing it down with a drink from her waterskin actually made the whole experience even worse somehow!  But it gave her the jolt she needed to force herself back into alertness.

---

Amid the rubble and ruin, Moira tugged down the Nightvision Goggles once more to help with any gloom brought on by collapsed portions of the shop.  What scattered items they did find didn't appear to be of too much use, all things considered, but any little bit helped.  She left them to U'lin and Zaiya to sort given their specialties.  It was the sight of what she first thought to be a child that urged the Halfling forward, only for her to stop short when she realized it was a Goblin.

"Th'hell's a Gobbo gal doin' here?  Gobbos never let their ladies outta th'tribe..." She hadn't heard or seen anything of Goblins being among the invading forces, nor did the manner of dress make it seem like she was a combatant.  Hells, Moira had never even seen a female Goblin outside the company of a handful of male Goblins since, as far as she knew, the women were jealously guarded more as commodities than people.

All the same, Moira toed a bit closer to try and roll the presumably unconscious-or-dead Goblin from atop the display case over onto her back.  If she was still alive she might be of help.

The female goblin doesn't resist as Moira turns her over- can't resist really, seeing how she's unconscious. The thick bump on the back of her skull is probably why. Still alive though, though her breath is shallow and her face pale from the lack of clean air.

Without the goblin's body covering it, Moira can see into the portable display case. Three thick, stubby bolts vertically line the case, with several other empty slots in between them. Tiny brass plates etched in dwavern label each of the bolts (along with the empty slots)

[Language unknown:
--(papeng)
--(resami)
1-(houwildayome)
--(ar)
--(insidich)
--(preenttra)
1-(lila)
--(etdissng)
1-(arenteticres)
--(peilio, eeth)
--(terearort, mi)
--(pahane)]
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:24, Tue 13 Oct 2020.

Ever since Nightstone, Claire had not an iota of love for goblinkind, her hatred for their cruelty forever burnt into their memory. After all, her dear father had been slain at their and their ogre allies' hands...

But Moira was right - this goblin was quite clearly out of place. "Didn't see any goblins mixed in with the orcs and ogres. Think this one might be Foehammer's helper or sommat?" Claire frowned. It felt pretty odd to be calling on Chauntea's blessing to aid a goblin, but neither did it seem right to simply leave her for dead. Putting aside her prejudice, the priestess laid a hand upon the back of the goblin's head and called upon her goddess.

Expend 3 charges of Lay on hands (7 remaining).

The bump on the goblin's forehead recedes as the golden glow washes over her. For a moment, nothing happens. Then the creature screams.

"Nonono don't go don't-" the small figure starts up, large black eyes blinking almost comically at the sight of Claire. As she takes in the dour-faced Moira, the horns on Zaiya's purple-skinned head and the now rather savage-looking U'lin, her confused expression quickly changes to that of fear.

"DON'T KILL ME!" it- she sobs, immediately throwing herself onto the floor, "t-there's nothing left here! Master t-took all the good stuff. H-he's gone to f-fight the giants! There's no gold here! I've checked! A-all the foods in the larder, you can have that! Just don't kill me p-pleaseeeeee..."

There is now a significant amount of goblin mucus all over Claire's forearm.

Of course, if anyone's suspicious they're welcome to an Insight check
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:39, Tue 13 Oct 2020.

Claire gives a start, having been given nearly as much of a fright as the goblin had. "Oh, calm down will you? We're not some bunch of common bandits, and we're certainly not going to kill you." The reassurance was almost reflexive - under different circumstances, she would have had little qualm about dispatching a goblin. She grimaces at the dribble on her forearm, wiping it off roughly against a piece of ragged cloth debris.

"I take it Foehammer is your master? Dwarf smith? We just want to know where he went, that's all."

Insight: 14
22:51, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 14 using 1d20.

"Y-yes! Master went outside, went to fight giants," the goblin doesn't get up, still prostrated on the floor, "I tolds him not to go! He did! Everything was shaking, I-I tried to protect the works," her eyes grow wide as they shift to the case, "ohnononono its broken! The glass! The pretty glass!"

Insight 14: the goblin does in fact, seem to be telling the truth, mostly out of a sense of self-preservation. She seems genuinely distraught about the broken case. That said she's sufficiently terrified of you lot that she's liable to agree with almost anything you say.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:59, Tue 13 Oct 2020.

"Leave it t'a Dwarf t'go Giant-slayin'." Moira sighed.  A noble death to seek, perhaps, but it meant that Foehammer had either been buried in rubble outside or had left Triboar entirely in pursuit of the Fire Giants and taken all the really useful gear with him.  They'd probably be able to track him down easily enough though... a heavily-laden Dwarf wouldn't be a difficult trail to follow, especially not since he was bound to be on the even-easier-to-trace Giants' path.  Wherever that lead...

While the Goblin fretted over the cracked glass case, she'd end up with Moira's gilded hand on her shoulder to pull her attention back up.  Rather than bearing a weapon, as she might've feared, the Halfling instead offered over her waterskin.  "Keep y'voice down and calm y'self already.  Y'keep screechin' like that and you'll draw Orcs in on th'lot of us." she urged.  Moira was traveled enough to know that sometimes creatures like Goblins and Kobolds could actually co-exist in civilization.  If this one had been allowed to live in Triboar and work, then she was just as much a victimized citizen as the others.  "We're here t'help, yea?  What's y'name?"

The screeching immediately stops. The goblins eyes grow wide.

"Yes miss. Tetri, miss," she mumbles, mostly to the floor, "c-could you save Master? Please? All the golds' with Master, b-but I'm sure he'll pay you! Y-you can have all the food in the larder f-first," the goblin continues, betwen greedy gulps of water from the waterskin, "a-and the ores. And uh, I gues you could take some of the other stuff too. Like weapons. Like uh, borrowing. I'm not supposed to give them out and Master doesn't sell anything anymore but either he'll take them back from you himself o-or he's already d-dead so it doesn't matter anyway please save hiiiiim-" Tetri hiccups, cutting off her steadily rising screech, then in a softer hiss continues, "pleaaaase~"

"Easy, easy... we ain't here for profits.  We're helpin' th'guard t'secure th'town and get things under control, not t'fill our pockets with loot.  We'll get y'outta here too.  There's safety up at th'Keep.  And I'm certainly of a mind t'help y'boss as well.  But right now - focus, love, focus - t'do that, first we gotta get rid of some of th'threats still kickin' 'bout th'place." Moira gestured vaguely in the direction of the neighboring mage's manor where all the current noise and battle shrieks were focused for the time being.

"There's a nastiness of Gargoyles out there what's runnin' amok.  Th'Lord Protector told us t'come here, borrow any magic weapons that might help us bring 'em down, and get rid of 'em so's the'guard can get a better handle on things." she explained slowly to try and help calm the Goblin with a steady tone.  "Now there's only a few things left here we dug up.  Can y'tell us what they are, in case they'll be of help?"
This message was last edited by the player at 04:50, Tue 13 Oct 2020.

The goblin pales a little at mention of the Keep and the gargoyles;

"I-I can't go to the keep. They're humans there," she shoots another fearful glance at Claire, "They'll take me again. B-back to the Gargoyles. I don't want to go back...I don't-" she mumbles, zoning out for a moment before Moira's calm words brought her back, "I- uh M-master doesn't have much in the forge. He took most of it with him. The stuff that's left uh,"

"The swords bad. Master said so. Its for killing orcs but it likes it too much," she squints, "not supposed to clean it even. Not supposed to touch it."

Breaking the chains on the rapier will take a DC 16 Strength check or a DC 14 Thieves Tools check

"The uh. Bow? Master got it recently. A gift I think. He took it apart it for study then forgot about it. I uh, put the pieces on the table but he doesn't seem to care. I dunno how to put it back together. Its kinda complicated."

The bow would require a mix of Arcana and Woodworking checks to reassemble (1 each). Smithing would also work, but at Disadvantage. No DC, higher check will result in a more 'successful' reassembly

"There's also uh, these," she points at the glass case with the bolts, "Master doesn't make them anymore. Doesn't want to," the goblin fingles the necklace around her neck nervously, "I- I think its supposed to be really nasty stuff. I-important stuff. Master sometimes would just sit in front of t'case for hours and sigh. I-if you think it'll help him then-" she gestures at the case openly, eyebrows raised.

Identifying the bolts would require either an Identify spell or a DC 14 Arcana/Smith tools check (using Intelligence)
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:10, Tue 13 Oct 2020.

"Just what we needed.  Another cursed blade hungry for blood." Moira deadpanned at the mention of the chained rapier.  She left figuring out the items to the scholars, as something Tetri had said amid her fretting caught her ear.  "What d'ya mean 'they'd take y'back t'th'Gargoyles'?  Tetri, love, I know you're plenty scared but this ain't th'time t'be coy on details."

"T-the Gargoyles are H-his. T-the wizard. He's with the Keep. They'll take me back," the goblin mutters, looking at the floor again, "Master protects me but if he's g-gone, they'll take me back. I escaped. I escaped. The others were screaming but I escaped."

"Wizard's dead, love.  From what th'Lord Protector told us, he was responsible for all this chaos and it did him in - they know he's a traitor, so ain't nobody gonna be favorin' him now." A blunt offer of information, but it certainly didn't seem like the Goblin would have any love lost to find out of the Wizard's fate.  "D'ya mean t'say there's other folk still in that manor though?  Other Gobbos or...?"

"I-I think its gobbos," Terri responds after a while, apparently not quite believing news of the wizard's death, "I didn't look back."

So, what are folks looking at or grabbing?

"Oh goodness," the fierce-looking orc commander replied in sincere concern, a very odd juxtaposition with the evil cut-you-for-a-copper visage.  "Hiding slavery in his building, and treachery of the city atop, putting at peril all the lives and creations for his own gain again.  Traitor and wretch indeed.

"And this whole situation putting the good smith at risk, in doing what he felt needed be done, and putting his items at risk of being coopted by ill actors, if his venture isn't fully successful.

"Oh, say - very nice necklace you wear.  Good dwarven runework on the smithwork.  One of the broken ones from the case, I should think?  He must trust you greatly.

"Tetri, did you wish to come with us, to help stop the gargoyles and orcs, or stay here?  We don't want you to think you have to come with us, nor that you have to stay.  "

U'lin carefully gathered up the pieces of bow, putting them into a thick sack, considering if the party would try to fix it now, or take more time but be lacking the bow for short term.  "I can try to put this together now if Claire or someone would be using it, but all things equal, I'd do it when less rushed for time, and we can work carefully on it, seeking guidance and double-checking.

"Those bolts - likely enough baned against certain targets, but I'll look at them more deeply to identify them when we know how goes the situation outside.  There are three bolts - marked grey with two ticks - that's 'werewolf', and the green with one tick - that's 'fey', and the grey with one tick over the rune - that's 'construct.'  Possibility of stronger magic, but with that many slots in the display case, less likely.  I can examine them more later.

"Oh, Tetri, did you mention ore?  It might be a wise plan for us to take some stock for the road, in case we need materials to craft items to rescue the good dwarf, or stop the forces that are incoming.

"Friends - the precautions on the chained sword suggest great concern and strength.  I'm concerned about leaving it here, to be picked up by looters or simply less mindful folk, and potentially putting them at peril, if the spirit of the blade is as the young goblin miss suggests.  I'd recommend we take it with us to ensure it stays safely in the Beetle until we can return it to the smith's responsibility."

---

OOC:
Identifying the bolts would require either an Identify spell or a DC 14 Arcana/Smith tools check (using Intelligence)
10:39, Today: U'lin rolled 13 using 1d20+3.  Smithing ID with Int.
If guidance is okay, auto-makes the ID.

U'lin will gather the bow for later repair
and bolts (to give to Moira, I'm presuming?)
And put the chained sword in a carrying box to put in one of the Beetle's internal lockboxes for safety unless party objects

"...mine!" the goblin snaps, before remembering the exact company around her and paling again, "Uh. I mean. Y-yes. I-its broken. Not useful. Y-you can have the ones in the case instead- much better. Much more useful."

Tetri shuffles away from the firbolg, apparently wary of him.



"I'll stay. Master said to stay. I'll stay."

Passive Insight 13: While some of Tetri's response is true, a large part of it is seems to stem from a general fear of the outside.



"G-go ahead. Payment. T-tetri will take responsibility with Master if you save Master."



In fact, the bolts are not bane bolts.

They're something far more dangerous.

Arrow of Slaying:

Very Rare
An arrow of slaying is a Magic Weapon meant to slay a particular kind of creature. Some are more focused than others; for example, there are both Arrows of Dragon slaying and Arrows of blue Dragon slaying. If a creature belonging to the type, race, or group associated with an arrow of slaying takes damage from the arrow, the creature must make a DC 17 Constitution saving throw, taking an extra 6d10 piercing damage on a failed save, or half as much extra damage on a successful one.

Once an arrow of slaying deals its extra damage to a creature, it becomes a nonmagical arrow.

The three inside the case are targeted at Werewolf, Fey and Construct respectively.

A few enchanted bolts were better than nothing, Moira figured, as she set them specifically into particular slots in the spare bolt latches mounted to the side of her crossbow.  They were special so they needed to be kept apart from the rest and in a particular arrangement so she wouldn't go mistaking them in the heat of the moment.

"Well, here's hopin' th'big'n actually is a robbit then." the Halfling muttered as she looked over the Construct-killing bolt.  "If y'wanna take th'sword as well, I can pop th'locks."

"I'll stay. Master said to stay. I'll stay."

Moira gave a look about the ruins of the forge and sighed.  The roof had already fallen in on Tetri and it looked like it might do so again at any time.  "I'd rather not leave y'here, love.  This place might collapse and there's still fires spreadin' outside all over.  Y'might get trapped." the Halfling insisted.  "Look, we got an armored wagon outside with some guardfolk who're helpin' us out.  Th'Lord Protector put 'em under my command for th'moment - if I say you're t'be protected, they gotta do as I order.  Come with us and hide in th'wagon where it'll be more safe for now, yea?  We can sort everythin' out later, but for now we gotta make sure everyone gets outta this alive."

Moira, gimme a persuasion check.

Can I plea-bargain for Advantage (thus a flat roll because of Exhaustion) because of Moira's position of deputy-command ensuring the soldiers won't trouble Tetri?

Hmm, I'll say you need something more to entice her. She's pretty untrusting at the moment, for good reason.

That said, Moira does still have that Inspiration...

True enough.  Let's see what happens.

Persuasion w/Disadvantage from Exhaustion
Moira Ruadh rolled 12 using 1d20+6
Moira Ruadh rolled 19 using 1d20+6

So 12 no matter what, it seems, since that was my first roll.  Hopefully the DC isn't too high considering the alternatives.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:41, Wed 14 Oct 2020.

"...I want a weapon," Tetri eventually answers, "a-a dagger. Or something. Master doesn't let me have any weapons. But i-if he isn't around-"

Having said that the goblin tenses up, getting ready to bolt in case of Moira's refusal.

Moira offered an empty hand out to the Goblin and pulled up her sleeve to expose a slip-style sheath strapped to her forearm, in which awaited the handle of a keen throwing dagger.  In the past, Claire had once witnessed Moira seem to just manifest a pair of knives out of thin air from how suddenly they appeared in her grasp, so it was a slight-of-hand trick revealed.  Though the notion that Moira - always openly armed to begin with - also carried concealed weaponry was perhaps a bit concerning in its own right.

"Honestly, I'd feel safer with y'havin' a blade than without one." she gave a smile as well, arm outreached in a show of trust to allow Tetri to take the dagger from its sheath for herself.

Moira will loan Tetri one of her Daggers - 1d4 Piercing, Finesse/Light/Thrown 20/60
This message was last edited by the player at 02:58, Wed 14 Oct 2020.

U'lin scratched the side of his orc-head at Moira's revelation.  How might such a display of subterfuge and sneak-killing be treated?

He pointed at her arm, strongly.

"We could arrange a set of gears and reflex arms, so when you twisted a certain way it would release a dagger.  With enough tension, that could provide a good range increase, I should think.  Now, you'd have to ensure a clear enough discharge path, and consider release speed with the balance of the throwing dagger, of course, and likely wish to have a safety mechanism if you're prone to muscle fits...."

The gathered up bow, like the chained sword, like the ore supply... all seemed to have momentarily faded beneath the new creation puzzle.

The goblin gingerly takes the dagger from Moira, looks at the blade, then back at the halfling. Her eyes sidle over to Claire for a moment, taking in the woman's armor, greatsword and general air of nonchanlent deadliness.

She stows the dagger.

"...Tetri will come."

From the outside, there's a brief but loud scream, then a sickening thud.

[Language unknown: "CEEL CON EENEATUREKCK!"] an orcish voice bellows, as malicious cackling drifts over through the smithy's windows. It seems like the fight is starting to spread closer to the smithy.

OOC: Gonna wait a bit for Claire/Zaiya to chime in on the bow/rapier.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:29, Wed 14 Oct 2020.

Claire frowned and averted her gaze, opting to keep a watchful eye on the approaching sounds of battle. She admired Moira for having the patience to deal with the goblin's frankly pathetic, servile attitude - in some ways she was more inclined to have sympathy for bandits. Yet it was becoming uncomfortably clear that not all goblins were of the same stripe as the troglodytes that had killed her father and tormented her fellow villagers.

The priestess shifted uncomfortably as Moira passed Tetri a spare dagger, wariness tempered by respect for the halfling's prior judgements. Perhaps there was a reason Foehammer hadn't entrusted her with weaponry...Her look of disapproval made it clear she was going to be keeping an eye on the now-armed goblin.


On this, Claire was quick to concur with U'lin. "I've no love for hauling a cursed blade around, but we'd best not leave that thing here for the orcs to find. We'd best move quickly-" out of reflex, she ducked as the orcish cry rings out from closer than was comfortable. "If battle's to be joined, best it be on our terms."

U'lin looked out the window to judge their time and report to the others...

It seems at the rate things are going, battle will -not- be joined on your own terms. Glancing out, U'lin watches as what might be an orc in ramshackle armor gets dropped into the rubble of a nearby building by a pair of cackling gargoyles. A few arrows fly up at the creatures, but mostly clatter of its tough skin. The orcish war cries and ogre bellows are nearer, and growing less excited, more frantic.

You estimate the group has about half a minute, maybe a minute between the battle spills over to the forge itself.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:41, Thu 15 Oct 2020.

With all the mounting noise coming from outside, their window of opportunity was closing fast.  Moira looked about to check their possible routes but even then there were only a few and they still needed to go to the same end anyway.  "Right, that's all we got here then.  Y'lot pack up and get ready t'move - we need t'get outta here and back t'th'wagon sneaky as we can.  I'll give th'security on th'sword a go, but otherwise we're leavin' it for now."

Circumstances forced their hand on the matter, so Moira simply didn't have enough time to waste on picking the chained lock carefully.  There were a few different ways to pop a lock though - carefully manipulating the interior mechanisms to loose it without harm to cover one's invasion was preferred.  But when all else failed, just busting the inner workings apart did the trick.  The Halfling quickly pulled a shunt tool from her kit, slid it into the keyhole to wiggle for a joining point, and then gave the flat of it a few sharp whacks to see if she could bust the latch.

Thieves' Tools DC 14 at Disadvantage from Exhaustion
Total: 15

Moira Ruadh rolled 19 using 1d20+9
Moira Ruadh rolled 12 using 1d20+9

+Guidance from U'lin
U'lin rolled 3 using 1d4.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:40, Thu 15 Oct 2020.

There's a soft clink as Moira undoes the heavy lock binding the chains with the rapier, the entire assembly going slack immediately. There is a sense of emptiness, of something previously there- now gone. The rapier itself seems to glow even brighter in front of Moira- the light bringing it faint whispers.

-take the blade kill the orcs take the blade kill the orcs take the blade kill the orcs-

"Y'all hearin' that bloodthirsty voice or is it just me?" Moira deadpanned even as she unlatched one of her rapiers from its spot at her hip.  Her own blade was removed and fed through the securing straps about her back alongside her crossbow for the time being so that, with a newly spare sheath, she could slide the magicked sword into it without touching the weapon directly.

Moira's going to do her best not to touch the sword, but lemme know if just moving it around is enough to merit any sort of saving throw, DM.  Barring that, it's coming with the party as we head out to return to the Iron Beetle.

Sleigh of Hand, DC 14. If you fail, gimme a wisdom saving throw Moira :P

Slight of Hand w/Disadvantage from Exhaustion
Moira Ruadh rolled 5 using 1d20+3

Dice roller denies me my Halfling Luck.  It too wants to see what happens.

Wisdom Saving Throw (thankfully not at Disadvantage)
Moira Ruadh rolled 19 using 1d20+1

So the real question here is whether or not that was a DC 20 check.  :3

As Moira tries to slip the rapier into the straps, the weapon seems to almost twitch of its own regard. A bit of the metal brushes against the halfling's wrist, and the faint whispering voices suddenly surge into a crescendo-

TAKETHEBLADEKILLTHEORCSTAKETHEBLADEKILLTHEORCS-

Wis Save 19 - Success

And then falls back to a whisper again as the rapier slips fully into the straps.

Outside, the battle rages on.

So- back to the Iron Beetle?

OOC: What can we tell of the battle, DM?

Can we tell where the crux is?
Are we able to catapult to keep helping beat down the stronger side, trying to keep forces evenly destroying each other?

"Yea, yea, take th'blade and kill th'Orcs.  We're gonna be doin' that anyway, so pipe down already.  Why mages would wanna make a chatterbox weapon's beyond me..."  While Moira's weariness impaired her abilities and judgment in some cases, it was a boon in others; she was simply too tired to tolerate the sword's demands.  Away it went like a noisy child sent to time-out.

I'm personally of the mood to just evacuate the immediate area back to the Iron Beetle and allow the two sides to keep killing each other.  No reason to get involved against two enemies if we can wait it out instead.  If the fight spills over too close to us, we'll have no choice, but still.

If you want to join in the battle, that will involve rolling initiative + a combat map.

The fight does appear to be winding down though. Getting back to the Iron Beetle doesn't require any check, but rejoining the fight will involve a group stealth check so the fighters don't notice you (assuming you don't take too long anyway).

"Wait, wait, hold up a tick"  Zaiya pauses and raises a hand.  "A talking weapon?  That's..."

She takes a moment to wrap her head around that.

"Well, that's both really good and really bad, those tend to be fairly strong as far as magical weapons go, but tend to have a lot of influence on their wielder.  If you're going to wave that around, you'll need to be especially careful"

Zaiya can attempt an identify spell, or an Arcana check or a History check regarding the weapon

Arcana 13: Zaiya has heard of cursed weapons that over the years, develop a rudimentary sentience based around their curse or cause. Such items are dangerous, as in the hands of an inexperienced wielder the weapon itself may take control. Whether this rapier is one such weapon is uncertain, but quite possible.

With the weapons in hand and a rather skittery goblin trailing behind, the group swiftly makes it out of the smith and back to the Iron Beetle. As the party exits Foehammer's forge, they can see that the battle is starting to tilt. The orcish arrows don't seem to be doing much to the hardened gargoyle bodies, often missing entirely. Meanwhile, at least three orc corpses lie scattered around the streets, limbs bent at unusual angles from being dropped at a great height.

Back at the Iron Beetle, Sergeant Grimes looks well, grim. His eyebrows raise at the sight of the goblin but seeing the dagger in her hands, declines to comment.

"...got the weapons?" he grunts, shifting in his seat, "right. Me and the boys'ave been taking a look at your mechanisms'ere, Mister uh, U'lin. And its pretty similar to some of the artillery stuff we used to operate during the War, before we had to sell those off...anyways, I reckon' the three of us should be able to operate these little beauties right fine...about a shot every six seconds."

UPDATED MAP OF TRIBOAR

The bright blue circle is the Iron Beetle, the brown-red circle is the radius of the fight.

Approaching the warehouse through the streets without drawing the attention of the combatants would require a group stealth check. Note that you guys don't have a good view of the battle from where you are right now.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:59, Fri 16 Oct 2020.

"Got th'weapons, such as they are.  Ain't gonna be much use - Foehammer took th'best stuff t'go nippin' at th'heels of th'Giants on his lonesome." Moira grumbled as she hoisted herself into the Iron Beetle and sorted about for somewhere safe to stow the magicked rapier.  She gestured briefly with its hilt to Tetri, then back to the soldiers.

"Grimes, Tetri.  She's Foehammer's assistant and apparently someone y'traitor wizard was keepin' captive in his manor, 'mongst other folks.  So our rescue mission might be a bit bigger now.  Y'keep her safe, yea?  Tetri, love?  I'll be havin' that dagger back later on, so keep y'head down sit tight." the Halfling was as curt as ever when it came to catching folk up and paused only momentarily to waggle the rapier about.  "Magic sword, cursed as all hells.  Don't touch it.  At all."

With that she stuffed the chatterbox sword away somewhere amid the wagon's shelves and piled a few heavy items atop it just to make sure it would remain impossible to accidentally fall loose or bump into.  All in preparation for the next stage of the plan, which she set to getting the men up to speed on in the meantime.

Group Stealth (Moira at Disadvantage): 17
Moira Ruadh rolled 17 using 1d20+9.
Moira Ruadh rolled 29 using 1d20+9.

Moira will explain the plan to the soldiers via the magic of montage.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:33, Fri 16 Oct 2020.

U'lin beamed at the specialist indicating that not only could they use the catapults, but maintain a very respectable rate of fire.  "They do work smoothly, don't they?  Oh, I'm quite pleased that you've had pleasure of trying them.  I built them, but I just couldn't bring myself to fire at the trees, and we wanted to preserve ammunition - the only good thing about the rubble here is that we can store a good bit to preserve/restore on the move.

"Good initiative, and skill, of course.

"So, if we circle around the outer walls, we can attack from behind here, through their breach.  With the gargoyles and orcs both drifting NW, we should have a straight run at the warehouse, and that construct in charge.  The smith is most likely to be found inside there, or along the trail of where we're going in, so keep sharp eyes for dwarven and giant tracks heading outwards."

As Moira outlined the party advancing, with the trip remaining, U'lin confirmed about the support group falling back if pressed, but keep eye on the area if possible to either reunite if path took the party back out the city in pursuit of the giants, or ranged support of return.

"Certainly possible to meet a patrol or rearguard outside, but the interest and looting is within the walls, so even if there are watchers, their focus is away from our path.  But we will definitely be ready for trouble in case."

OOC: U'lin, Zaiya, I still need that stealth check. No rush, but I'll roll on your behalf (ignoring Portents) in 24 hours if I don't get any response and push ahead with the plan you guys have outlined (go around, charge through the breach, look out for Foehammer/Giants along the way).

U'lin pointed out several interesting plantlife and arrangements as he did his best impression of a brass band walking through a china shop.

OOC:
21:42, Today: U'lin rolled 6,1 using D20+0,d4.  Stealth
6... that's a failure

"Whatever'y say Ma'am," Grimes nods sagely, while allowing himself a small smile at U'lins praise, "we can setup near the walls themselves, start shooting from there. Whats your signal? Magic light, flare? Or we wait for screamin' and just start pelting the gargoyles?"

---

As the party discusses their tactics, the Iron Beetle moves out of the Northern Gates, circling around to the damaged section of the wall. Bathed in the orange light of the lingering flames, one can easily see the swathe of destruction paved by the Fire Giant's attack. Massive footprints leave a long trail and a deep furrow in the soft earth around Triboar, leading to and from a large gap in the stone wall, which appears to have been quite literally smashed through. Broken wreckage, some still aflame, littles the 20-foot wide path towards Hyuth's warehouse.

As the Beetle returns to the battle, Moira calls for stealth. Slowly, the group approaches- but it seems that conditions of the battle have changed. Where there was once loud clashes and guttural orcish screams, the streets are now quiet. Something seems to have happened while the party was circling around, bringing an end to the clash between the two forces.

Staff Sergeant Grimes carefully halts the Iron Beetle at the edge of the broken wall, eyes squinted at the smokey sky;

"...somethings off. They stopped."

Group Stealth check result: Success(?)

The silence was indeed concerning, and possibly speeding up their timeline for action.

Despite that, as U'lin looked about, he tapped Moira on the shoulder, and climbed down from the Beetle.

"Hammer and a hand - over this way..." he advised quietly before angling over towards the weapon and hand, and hoping it was not the dwarven smith.  Calling upon his armour, he walked over carefully to investigate the body - being mindful of the possibility of a trap, but not truly expecting one - but in his armour and faith for protection.

 he attempted as he neared, and called again in a volume only carrying a few feet.

"A sizeable crafting - hammer and gauntlet - hopefully not a statue, but with life sign?" he relayed back, just as quietly, but with keeping the area under watch as he continued to move.

There is no answer from the rubble. The hand seems to be made of metal, not stone.

Moving the rubble will require some effort, but no checks since we aren't in a combat situation yet.

"Well, with any luck it means th'Gargoyles either killed 'em all or drove th'rest off." Moira could only hope for the best in that case as she skimmed the area with a glance about.  The Gargoyles were berserk, after all, so if they'd gone quiet it hopefully meant they had no more foes left to attack.

U'lin's call to attention had Moira wary.  While he went to prod about what he'd discovered, she readied her crossbow in case trouble emerged - figuratively, or literally from the rubble.

Moving forward from the party's rear, Claire cast a wary glance about. "Aye, if the orcs had won, I'd reckon they'd not be so quiet." Claire's greatsword remained unsheathed but unignited as she followed a few paces behind U'lin.

U'lin moved carefully to unearth the gauntlet, not seeking to free the entire body immediately, lest it was a construct, but enough -at first- to see if the gauntlet was removeable or fixed in construction.  Even an injured smith would have ability to remove the gauntlet from a suit for hygiene, intimate times, or more efficient prostheses, let alone potential political issues.

The firbolg used his tall frame and some helpful larger pieces of rubble to fulcrum-work gentle adjustments to the rubble, wishing to avoid it collapsing or crushing the body if a living person, and wishing to check the arm before freeing another of the traitor-wizard's constructs.

Now, was this gauntlet dwarven-make, or .. well, the wizard could have ordered a suit, so that was not determinative, merely encouraging.  Removing the gauntlet would be the test, and permitting a check for life signs.

The gauntlet was certainly of dwavern make - very fine work too, clearly custom tailored for the body. It fits - and slips off - like a glove, revealing a scarred (burns), thickly muscled and definitely humanoid hand.

It flops limply on the ground- still warm, but sweaty and faint.

"Great Gond, crafter of wonders and patron of smiths, share your healing word with this fallen smithy, fanning the embers of his life-forge," U'lin prayed simply, offering the healing word of his faith, woven into his words.

Tossing his a free end of his rope towards the wagon, U'lin gestured to the nearside catapult for to be fixed in termination.  The other end of the rope he tied in a rough net around the largest pieces of rubble - accepting help if offered - and slid a series of bracing rods from whatever he could find about to help lift and slide the rubble from the captive.  If the rubble could be simply lifted clear without collapsing, all the better, but a few steps to help secure against shifting or collapse could help slide the person free even if there was to be a surprise, and potentially without pinching the armour such that dent work would be required.

Well, considering he was buried beneath a pile of rubble, the odds were high that _some_ restoration work would be required, but this was personalized dwarven plate, and likely almost as fine quality as U'lin's one hand-crafted armour.

---

OOC:
healing word now that I have a target
Use rope/catapult gears/rods and levers to safely remove the rubble to free the person - here's to hoping on our missing smith

The golden glow travels down the hand, and the fingers twitch. Rubble begins to shift as a loud, angry voice begins swearing from beneath the rocks.

[Language unknown: "HOU CKSOM Leompalo TANDNI!!"]

Inside the Iron Beetle, Tetri pokes her head out, eyes wide;

"M-master Foehammer! Ohno, oh no we must save him!"

The goblin immediately rushes out of the wagon and begins struggling with the rubble, spindly arms too weak to lift much despite her best efforts. Meanwhile, U'lin begins setting up tools to shift the rubble, even as the buried smith(?) struggles to escape. If anything, his swearing seems to only grow louder and more angry with each passing second.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:48, Mon 19 Oct 2020.

Moira jerked in surprise as the buried fellow proved to not only be alive, but precisely who they were looking for.  She was certain he'd made it outside the walls but it was fortunate for their needs that he'd been caught in the rubble.  What wasn't fortunate, however, was the matter of volume.  The Halfling was swift to pounce over alongside Tetri but, rather than pull rubble away from the revealed Dwarf, she instead clapped her gilded palm across his mouth to muffle his bellowing.

"Shut it, y'lunk, before y'give us away!" she hissed and gave Foehammer's jaw a firm shake to stifle his swearing.  Once she was certain the Dwarf wouldn't resume raising a ruckus, she withdrew her hand and set to helping unearth him with the aid of her crowbar to leverage off chunks that pinned lower on the heap.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:25, Mon 19 Oct 2020.

"I am U'lin of Gond.  We found your assistant, Tetri, and she is helping us.  If you wish to help speed the effort, can you determine what leverage points we need to focus or reinforce to speed the process or protect your equipment in the rubble removal?"  U'lin didn't truly require the information, but it was not only wise to give the other smith a project as it was wise to obtain the additional information into the best practices of the recovery.

'Never be too proud to accept help, nor too self-conscious to try without', as the saying went, he reminded himself mentally.

The swearing doesn't stop, but it does quieten down significantly, turning more into a stream of muttered dwarvish curses questioning the parentage, hygiene and general mental capacity of everyone and everything around him. Still, the buried dwarf cooperates, more interested in getting out than arguing with his would-be rescuers.

Indeed, it seems that this -is- Foehammer, quite worse for the wear. With help from U'lin, Moira and Tetri, the dwarvern smith eventually manages to uncover himself. Gheryln Foehammer is a stout, broad-shouldered dwarf covered from head to toe in thick, well-forged dwavern plate. Intricate runes have been carved in the segments of the armor, many of them apparently magical (Arcana check). Said armor bears many significant bents, while parts of it appear to be partially melted, as if from an intense flame.

Coughing and spluttering as he climbs to his feet, Foehammer carefully removes his helmet, revealing an aged, wrinkled dwarf with a massive white beard and thinning hair. His eyebrows are huge and bushy, covering most of his brow and almost hiding his eyes from casual view. Bruises and burns stain his wrinkled cheeks, but the protective suit seems to have done its job, and most of his wounds appear largely superficial (Medicine check).

He looks from Moira to U'lin, gives a brief nod at Tetri, then scowls at the gathered party and the Iron Beetle behind them.

"...'ppose ah ouwn ye mah thanks," he spits, rubbing his beard while digging from a flask, "where'smedri- ah," the smell of strong alcohol briefly fills the air as the Foehammer takes a long pull from a thick metal flask, "bloody'giants dropped tha walls on me afta that wizard pansy bit'it. Was givin'em a good kneecappin' too! Couldn't get proper'leverage, n'the smoke made it'ard ta breathe...y'with the Guard or sum'thin? Don't recall seein'bastards'like ye arounde Triboar.  Woulda'remebered folk so distinctive, 'specially'handsy lasses like this halfing'."

The smith seems to regard the sight of the burning city with an deep sense of resignation, his voice heavy with sorrow;

"...best'ammer, special'armour- but it dinna'make ah differance."
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:09, Mon 19 Oct 2020.

Once they'd gotten the Dwarf back on his own two feet, Moira looked him over with a cursory check to make sure he wasn't bleeding out.  She'd seen enough cases of people caught in collapses who didn't realize they'd been impaled by a shard of debris from the shock of it.

Medicine
Moira Ruadh rolled 19 using 1d20+1

"Deputy-Captain Ruadh." Moira introduced herself with a tone of curt authority.  Foehammer's boasting about his attack on the Giants had her rolling her eyes though; a Dwarf could swing his hammer at the ocean and claim he'd had the waves running in defeat.  "We're here helpin' get th'city back under control and find y'as well, so don't y'go mopin' yet.  If y'feel like y'still got a fight in ya', we're takin' on a nastiness of Gargoyles what that traitor wizard's left runnin' loose.  Need t'get 'em taken care of so's th'guard can mobilize and retake this district."

The eruption of Dwarven profanity prompted Claire to cringe - her tactical instinct for preserving stealth having been sharpened by battle and travel with Moira. Even after the halfling managed to put a damper on his runaway mouth, she still glanced around what she could see of their surroundings before going to lend a hand.

In what had become reflex by now, the priestess-turned-battlefield medic looked Foehammer over for signs of more serious injury. In the happy instance that none were present, she turned her attention to the superficial injuries. "Hold still, don't want that burn getting all nasty and inflamed tomorrow, do we?" she admonished him, dabbing a dose of pain-killing salve onto his facial burns.

"Claire Larkspur," she introduced herself by the by - judging from the letter of introduction, the priestess had an inkling that last name might mean something to him. "Moira and I came all the way from Nightstone. Didn't quite expect to see another town in as dire straits." Salve stowed, her herbalist's kit clapped shut. (If the Medicine check reveals no serious wounds...) "How d'you feel? Think you could take those gargoyles on with us?"

Medicine: 21
01:02, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 21 using 1d20+3.  Medicine.

Use 1 dose of Pain-relief ointment.

Didn't actually think Moira's roll could be meaningfully improved on, but I'll take it. :P
This message was last edited by the player at 06:20, Mon 19 Oct 2020.

"Aye dinna'need y'concern lass, ahm fit as I was born, me armors taken the worst of the blows. An'fcourse ah ken help y-" the dwarf brushes off Claire's concerns with an irritated grunt, though at the mention of the name "Larkspur" his bushy eyebrows rise;

"-didye say Larkspur?" Foehammer takes a short step back, his gaze suddenly assessive as he takes in Claire's armor and weapons, noting her stance and features, "...mmhm. Y'his kid then? Whatsis'name- Arkhan? So'that sun-crazed zealot actually managed ta git laid huh? Good'fer 'im."

The smith slowly crosses his arms, frowning;

"Well if'ye originally coming'ere for a sword too m'fraid I don't smith weapons anymore. Can't help ye there, s'pecially with me forge well-" he gestures at the smoking ruins of the town, "now whats this'bout gargoyles? Y'gotta plan'r sumthing, Miss Deputy-Captin? Just lemme get'me hammer and we're good ta go-!"

U'lin blinked a few times as the dwarf's comments about Claire and her father fathering her.  Now, it was a natural enough process, so that wasn't the issue, but the crudity of the discussion was off-putting at the least.

The firbolg looked down to the nugget he held in his hand, and half-put the stone back away before his curiosity won out over his social intimacy shyness.  He loosed and recoiled his rope, then carefully gathered the mastersmith's hammer, taking care to not touch it directly, and brought it over to Foehammer and group.

"The town forces suggested that you might have items of assistance in battle against the gargoyles, but my interest was assisting a fellow smith, in the possibility at least.

"While we're walking or riding on the wagon, I did have this interesting nugget of metal that I found, and it has grown in absorbing other metals tested with it, and I had heard that you might have insight into it?  Quite fascinating find."

---

OOC:
Show the nugget to Foehammer for info on it/unlocking it.

Arkhan Larkspur had indeed been a devotee of the Morninglord, but his daughter had not recalled him to be enthusiastic about his faith to the point of zealotry. Then again, she hadn't known he had a good fortune in his Waterdeep bank either. As their journey progressed, Claire grew less surprised that there was yet more to learn about her parents' past... "Aye, that's my da. I'm only the youngest too." She indulged the old dwarf's sense of humour with a wry grin while picking out a potion of healing from her pouch. "You're in fine health for someone who just got out of a brawl with fire giants, but there ain't no use for me hanging onto this when it could do some good now."

Physically, Foehammer was not actually in good shape, and the priestess was neither optimistic for his survival in pitched battle, nor the seemingly-stubborn dwarf's willingness to accept sitting out of a good fight. But Claire's intuition for the egos of older men told her he'd be in a more malleable mood if indulged.


"Say, speaking of our companion's 'wagon,' I reckon we might have a special role for someone with a smith's arithmetic sense while we attack those gargoyles. We've got a couple of catapults that Sergeant Grimes and his lads here will be manning. All we need is someone to call out our targets...with flawless precision, considering we'll be closing with those gargoyles. And I'm no better than my da at numbers." Was that how catapults worked? Claire hoped that was enough of an excuse to get Foehammer off the frontline - Triboar could scarcely afford to lose its master smith.

OOC:
Use 1x Potion of Healing on Foehammer.

EDIT:
Persuasion (w/advantage): 19
21:41, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 19 using 1d20+6.
21:44, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 17 using 1d20+6.

Greatsword was out, ready to deal with anything that got drawn by Foehammer's yelling.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:46, Tue 20 Oct 2020.

Persuasion check with Advantage Claire

Also, does Claire have her greatsword drawn or sheathed at the moment?

A bit of curiosity flits over Foehammer's face, and he almost reaches out for the nugget- then immediately withdraws his hand.

"...aye ain't workin'fer free, lad. 'sides, nows na'the time," he grunts, turning back to Claire as the healer offered a potion from her pouch. That the smith takes, squinting at the red liquid for a moment before downing the entire thing without a word of thanks;

10:53, Today: GM rolled 7 using 2d4+2.  Pot.




"I knows whatcha'y doin' lass," the smith grumbles, as he moves to pick up his hammer. With a huff, he lifts the entire thing and hefts it on his shoulder, "no need ta beat'round da bush. Y'want old Gheryln ta sit this out, with his failin'liver n'wet lungs. Tetri probably put you up to this, lil'worrywart. 'tis fine, I knows when I'm beat. Bloody giants hava'heck of a good throw...oof me hips..."

As the dwarf trudges over to the wagon past Claire, he suddenly freezes. Foehammer's gaze slips to the sword held in Claire's hand, and his expression turns ugly- almost angry;

"...that ye'da's sword? The hells'r doin' with it? Hand'it over here lassie."
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:33, Tue 20 Oct 2020.

Stunned, Claire looks to her sword and back to Foehammer with an incredulous look. "It's my da's sword alright. All I got left of him." The sudden onset of the dwarf's brusque manner left her more astonished than offended...though that was like to change should he fail to explain himself.

The sword slid with a click back into its scabbard. "He was killed after cloud giants attacked Nightstone. My ma too...That's why I'm all the bloody way up here," she explained in a curt, clipped tone that signaled straining patience.

"What- what do you want with it?" Now properly sheathed, she held the blade pommel-first towards the dwarf with a wary frown...still maintaining a firm grip on that prized memento.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:51, Tue 20 Oct 2020.

"Fixing it, of cours- by Moradin's balls the enchantments are scratched!" Foehammer basically wails, "look at the flow! Ruined! Haven'ye da t- oh he- ah."

A bit of calmness returns to the dwarf as he gingerly takes the sword from Claire;

"...mah condolences lass. Arkhan was a good man. Crazier'n ah drunken'battlerager sometimes, but a good man nonethess."

If Claire releases her grip, the smith pulls out a pair of goggles from a pouch strapped to his waist, squats down in the middle of the rubble and immediately starts inspecting the blade, muttering quietly to himself;

"...chipped, but expected if- least three years...ye'gods, did he break- he did," he looks up at Claire, "y'done no meditations with this'ere sword? And ye'father never told ye what this blade really was, eh? Nah need ta reply, I can see it all over ye face."

"Lassie- this'eres an Oathblade. I dinnah make many of these even in mah prime- ye'da was one of the few. Grows with the wielder, power tied ta their convictions. When I first forged'it, ye da'swore 'n oath," Foehammer explains, pulling vials of oils, dust, tweezers and filings, the pouch never bulging or changing in size while he does so, "an oath he broke, judgin'from the fadin'- 'tis barely magic now. If ye'goin' ta fight them gargoyles," the dwarf carefully applies a layer of oil to the pommel, then begins tracing something invisible with his file, "ye'need it fixed up. I'ken reinforce'sum of it, but the oath itself- well."

He looks up at Claire, brows furrowed;

"Ah suppose it has a new wielder now. Hmmm...a new oath. Sworn under ceremony, blood and battle," Foehammer suddenly reaches out and grabs Claire's hand, branishing a small scapel at her, "the first we'ken skip, th'seconds just a prick- 'n the third well," he grins, turning to Moira, "so theres'a bunch of gargoyles eh?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:05, Tue 20 Oct 2020.

"A what?" It wasn't too surprising to find out that her father had his blade specially-made, as many veteran warriors did. But this was something else. "So...you're saying you made this?"

Whatever annoyance had tinged Claire's mood before had all but evaporated, and she let slip the sword into the elderly dwarf's hands. "I...I never ever heard of such a thing," she shoots U'lin a quizzical glance, looking to the firbolg smith for a second opinion on this outlandish revelation. "If not for that letter in my da's vault, I'd be having a second look for a big old bump on your head." Indeed she couldn't quite resist craning her neck to peer over Foehammer's cranium.

"I mean...knowing my father's sword has some interesting history, is nice and all...But I don't know. I don't plan on using it for much longer, you know? We're just off to Yartar after this and then...maybe I'll head back home," Claire blurted out. She couldn't keep dragging Thente around forever - Nightstone would be a better place to care for him if a more senior cleric couldn't help. "I'm not some Knight of the Gauntlet or anything. Don't got any code of chivalry or allegiance to some king. Sure can't think of an oath just like that..." She scratched the back of her head awkwardly.

"Uh, not that I don't appreciate your help of course. If it doesn't take too long to fix the 'flow' or enchantments, or whatever, I'd not refuse that. Just well...don't get your hopes up too high. I'm not quite as great as my da." Great Mother permitting, she'd get some tales of the past out of Foehammer over a cider. Particularly about that broken oath of her dad's.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:56, Tue 20 Oct 2020.

"Hrmmr..." Gheryln Foehammer grunts as he squints at Claire. A trace of...disappointment(?) flickers across his face, and then softens as he sighs;

"'sppose that's how it is," he makes a few more purposeful scratches with a small scapel on the pommel and center of the blade, then packs away the tools, "just dab some blood on this base'ere. Ah fixed up the base enchantments, but without n'Oath it'll gradually start wearing off'gain. Gotta be ah proper Oath too- all fire'nd conviction'n the like."

"But if yer just usin' it till Yartar, it'll hold up till then," he shakes his head, sounding resigned, "ain't gonna ask'fer a heirloom back, wasted'r not. Dinnah let me hold'ye lot back- ye gots a Gargoyle nest ta clear."

The dwarf hands the Oathblade back to Claire, pats her on the shoulder, then makes to head to the wagon.

"Wounds aside, we've two catapults and only three men runnin' 'em.  Extra hands t'load and fire'll do us a world of good in keepin' those Gargoyles from tryin' t'snatch-and-drop any of us.  And if any of th'Gargoyles get past us, you'll be th'one who's got t'hold that line, Foehammer."  Moira added in as the Dwarf headed for the wagon.  In his condition it would be irresponsible at best to demand any further of him - she only hoped that the guards would know well enough to follow her call and flee for the safety of the Keep if things went south in their attack.

The whole matter of Claire's sword and what would become of their efforts after the fact was one that Moira let go by without comment.  It wasn't until Foehammer loaded himself up into the wagon that she eased near to Claire and offered a sympathetic pat on the hip.  "We can talk it all out later, love, but... well, an oath ain't gotta be somethin' so grand as all that.  Sometimes it's just holdin' dear t'what y'love and bein' willin' t'do somethin' 'bout it." the Halfling offered what comfort she could given the less-than-cozy situation they stood in.  Frankly she didn't think that it would be so easy to go back to Nightstone.  Even if Claire really did intend to simply walk away from the troubles from the north and go home - a choice which Moira would never dream to hold against her - it seemed that things wouldn't be so simple.

For when we do get underway, should Moira stealth ahead and try to scout things out/lure a portion of the Gargoyles out further?  Or do we just want to head right into the thick of it?

With a turn of the wrist, Claire felt for the balance of the Oathblade. It certainly didn't feel any different. Or perhaps she just wasn't experienced enough to sense the effects of the dwarf's tinkering. It was promptly re-holstered.

The young woman stood, looking somewhat dejected, gaze averted towards the ground amongst the rubble. The tip of her boot nudged a fragment of masonry, raising a wisp of dust. In that moment of relative quiet, she realized how surreal it felt to be standing amongst the ruins of a town so far from home. Foehammer had not been the first to treat them like they were big enough for the tumultuous world the party found themselves in, but it sure was difficult sometimes, not to feel like her feet were too small for her boots. In this, she envied U'lin in particular, whose easy confidence seemed to grow to match the challenge at hand, but never into arrogance.

A familiar pat at her waist drew Claire's attention to her stalwart halfling friend. The priestess forced a smile, grasping Moira's hand in a gentle squeeze. "You're right," she sighed. "Maybe I'll try to think of it that way, yea?" Though she yet harbored some self-doubt, the halfling's words succeeded in buoying her spirits somewhat.

Small steps at a time.

OOC:
How about a cautious approach? Always good to see what we're potentially getting into. :)
This message was last edited by the player at 06:53, Tue 20 Oct 2020.

It has been eeriely silent for the entirety of the exchange between Claire and Foehammer. By your estimates, almost 10 minutes have passed since the silence started.

If Moira wants to scout ahead, that would be fine- I'll need a Stealth check from her to sneak, as well as Perception check vs potential obstacles. Also, I would need to know how far behind the Iron Beetle is hanging around, and how you mean to communicate over the distance (unless you're just gonna wait for her to come back)

"Yea." Moira offered a wink before she drew her bandana once more over her mouth and nipped off ahead to begin the scouting work.

Stealth w/Disadvantage from Exhaustion
Moira Ruadh rolled 14 using 1d20+9

Perception w/Disadvantage from Exhaustion
Moira Ruadh rolled 19 using 1d20+4

I really can't wait for Level 11 so I can have "Reliable Talent"...

Moira still has her Hooded Lantern, so she can use it to blink a light signal back to the group by covering and uncovering it.  Something like slow blinks for 'stay where you are' or rapid blinks for 'come here'.  And loud Hin obscenities for 'I screwed up and am under attack, come save me'.  :3

Slipping from the main group, Moira makes her way through the rubble and ruined buildings, the churned stone and broken walls providing ample shadows and dark places to hide in. Flickering light from the nearby fires are the only source of illumination, and the air is heavy with the smell of smoke, sweat and blood.

As Moira makes it back towards the ruins of the smithy she spies, perched on a crumbling support, a lone gargoyle keeping a look out. Its form is unnaturally still- the only difference between it and a statue being the blood stains on its claws and teeth. What seems to be a small, icy-blue gem glimmers in the center of its chest. The creature slowly swivels in place, looking away for a moment to let Moira get past (Stealth success)

There, sprawled on the main road are the corpses of the two ogres from earlier. Surrounding them are clear signs of a large battle- broken axes, arrows and spears litter the street. What seems like a long, black scorch mark covers the broken remains of the pavement around the two large corpses, as if made by some sort of...beam? (Arcana check) The crumbled remains of a gargoyle lie next to them, wings shattered and torso split in two.

Curiously enough, besides the bodies of the two ogres, there are no orc corpses around. Nor any other humanoid bodies. This, coupled with the odd silence, makes for a rather unsettling scene.

Where is Moira heading to?

What's everyone else doing while Moira is scouting?
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:51, Tue 20 Oct 2020.

U'lin was too polite to spit or curse like the dwarven smith, but the lowering of eyelids a fraction, and facial muscles settling into a very neutral expression - that was very much an U'lin-version streak of profanity to put the dwarf's paltry efforts to shame and back again.

When the firbolg spoke, as he returned his nugget to his belt pouch, and slipped his gauntlet back upon his hand, it was very neutral, very polite in words, very distant.

"If it is simply work for you, then you are indeed not the smith to puzzle through this with me.  My respectful apologies for the confusion and in disturbing your first-priority billing.  With such a busy schedule, please do not feel obligated to deviate from your business to even look in direction of the catapults."

U'lin turned back on his fellow smith without further word, not discussing his efforts to rescue the dwarven smith, and ignoring any comments as he moved to take up the driver position unless one of the archers had chosen to do so.

"Let us proceed slowly, once Moira has had a reasonable time to move ahead, and everyone is ready.  She will be keeping us within sightline to update us, so she needs us to move forward likewise, and be ready to support her as needed.  If one of you instead prefer to drive the wagons, by all means, and that will free me for engaging with steel and faith."

"Oh hoooo- that sarcasm I hear lad? Keep workin'at it," Foehammer chuckles, taking another long sip from his flask, "y'more a diplomat than'ah smith if that's the way yer react ta refusals."

Arcana
Moira Ruadh rolled 7 using 1d20

Yep, that's fire alright.

The scorched line along the earth was confusing to say the least.  Was it from the big Gargoyle that could breathe fire?  But one of the beasts had been destroyed and only magic could really do that... perhaps there had been a caster among the Orcs?  Given that there were no other beings around other than the watchful guard perched on high, Moira could only assume the Gargoyles had done their job of driving off the invaders and resumed their vigil.

The Halfling carefully revealed a portion of her lamplight to blink a signal back the way she'd come.  A few rapid blinks, one slow, and then a few more rapid: 'Found one, get ready'.  She waited only a few moments before her crossbow was raised, leveled, and set with a careful aim for that glittering gemstone mounted in the Gargoyle's chest.  She didn't know if such creatures had so apparent a weak point or if it was somehow involved in the magic that bound it to obedience, but it seemed as good a spot as any to snipe at.

Moira will move to just the edge of her 80' firing range nearest the Iron Beetle and Sneak Attack the Gargoyle for as many shots as she can manage.  If it spots her or starts calling for its friends, she'll Full Dash to try and lure it back toward the Iron Beetle.

Action: Crossbow w/Advantage attacking from Hidden
Moira Ruadh rolled 26 using 1d20+8

Damage: 16
Crossbow - Moira Ruadh rolled 8 using 1d8+1
Sneak Attack - Moira Ruadh rolled 8 using 3d6

Bonus Action: Hide at Disadvantage from Exhaustion
Moira Ruadh rolled 16 using 1d20+9

Three +1 bolts remaining

Having crept forward ahead of the Iron Beetle, but well behind Moira, Claire made a beckoning gesture toward U'lin and Zaiya. "Hush now," she mouthed from her forward position, sword already drawn.

Catching sight of Moira's lamp signal, she conveyed the discovery with a single pointed finger in the direction of the threat, drawing in a breath and waiting on further developments from just ahead.

Moira's bolt pierces straight through the creature, shattering its stony flesh and almost causing it to fall off its perch. As the halfling begins booking it back to the Iron Beetle, the gargoyle gathers itself. Wings flapping indignantly, it opens its fanged mouth and shrieks;

KEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Answering shrieks echo from beyond. Winged shapes rise against the light of the fires.

[Combat Start]

Everyone has 1 round to make prep actions - Moira's was spent attacking the Gargoyle.

Map will be loaded in a second post soon. Post your prep actions now or after, either is fine.

The gargoyle, with its wings outstretched in apparent rage, presented a target of opportunity for the waiting Claire. Planting the tip of her blade in between the soft dirt of shattered cobblestones, she swiftly drew her shortbow and sent two arrows headlong at the creature in quick succession.

It was uncertain how much effect the mundane shafts would have on the construct's stony hide, but at the least, it might serve to cover Moira's withdrawal, and lure the gargoyles within reach of her lethal blade.

Shortbow Attack: 24
23:20, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 24 using 1d20+5.  Shortbow Attack.
Shortbow Attack Damage: 8
23:22, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 8 using 1d6+2.  Shortbow Damage.

Shortbow (Extra Attack): 17
23:20, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 17 using 1d20+5.
Shortbow Extra Attack Damage: 3
23:22, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 3 using 1d6+2.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:24, Wed 21 Oct 2020.

Claire's arrows fly at the gargoyle as it dives after Moira, but the mundane shots only serve to nick the creature's stony hide (resisted, -5 damage total).

Angry shrieks echo from around the northern quarter as three other winged figures begin to congregate on your location.

Round 1 - A Nastiness of Gargoyles

U'lin and Zaiya, you get a prep round action in addition to your regular rounds actions, go ahead and post both.

Combat Map
Lighting Conditions: Dim Light
Terrain: Rubble, pavement

LINK TO MAP
Warning: BIG MAP
Credits: original image taken from here: https://imgur.com/bke09Px

To make things easier to see, I've marked the enemies with a red square and allies with a green square

Gargoyle-B (blue dot) - 30ft in the air
Gargoyle-R (red dot) - 30ft in the air

Rubble marks the path of destruction caused by giants. Any square that intersects with rubble is difficult terrain.
Consider all the buildings in the center path "destroyed" - you can move and see past them. Though difficult Terrain issues still apply

The severely damaged gargoyle is the one that was shot and the one directly to the right of Moira's token

Initiative:
19  - Claire (39/39) [] <<<<
17  - U'lin (38/38) [] <<<<
11  - Moira (33/33) [Darkvision] <<<<
10 - Zaiya (32/32) [] <<<<
10 - Gargoyles-B (?/?)  [Moderately Damaged]
1  - Gargoyles-R (-21/?) [Severely Damaged]
1  - Gargoyles-R (?/?) [Moderately Damaged]
0  - Iron Beetle (?/?) []

This message was last edited by the GM at 02:49, Thu 22 Oct 2020.

Off to a good start, it seemed.  Moira was rather relieved to see that the mundane arrow strikes did actually seem to harm the Gargoyle somewhat.  Apparently they weren't quite as immune to such damage as a Werewolf - all the better for the catapults.

She reloaded as she ran and, with nary a pause, deftly leaped over a portion of debris.  Mid-leap the Halfling twisted back and let fly another bolt for the Gargoyle she'd already shot in hopes of finishing it off before it could give chase.  As ever she didn't wait to confirm the hit - Moira trusted in her accuracy as she landed in a deft tumble back to her feet, never once breaking stride.

Action: Crossbow w/Advantage attacking from Hidden
Moira Ruadh rolled 23 using 1d20+8

Damage: 14
Crossbow - Moira Ruadh rolled 6 using 1d8+4
Sneak Attack - Moira Ruadh rolled 8 using 3d6

Bonus Action: Hide at Disadvantage from Exhaustion
Moira Ruadh rolled 20 using 1d20+9

Movement: Continuing toward the Iron Beetle, G 32-ish.  Moira will want to stay near the buildings for the sake of cover.

2 +1 bolts remain

DM, I realized I messed up my damage on that first turn.  I forgot to add my DEX bonus to the damage and only added the +1 from the magic bolt.  Total damage dealt should've been 19 instead of 16.

OOC: thankfully, that doesn't change the outcome

Moira's second shot pierces the Gargoyle's gem, and the creature screams. Instead of falling, its body seems to disintegrate, turning to ash and dust that disperses in the wind.

The other gargoyles immediately focus their gaze on the halfling's last location.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:35, Wed 21 Oct 2020.

At Claire's urging, Glory bounded over the low fence separating the side road from the storeyard Moira had dashed into. With scarce subtlety, the warhorse interposed itself between Moira and her winged pursuers, sending boxes and barrels crashing in disarray and creating yet more chaos - perfect circumstances to lose a halfling within. From atop the great white mare, Claire nocked another pair of arrows.

Two more feathered shafts whistled through the air, this time, aimed at the gargoyle approaching from dead north. Claire laid her hand on the handle of her father's oathblade - judging by the speed of those creatures, those were probably the last or next to last shots she would have before they closed.

Move: To F-G 30-31, taking a shot at the northwest blue gargoyle while in line with columns C-D.

Shortbow Attack: 14
00:24, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 14 using 1d20+5.  Shortbow Attack.
Shortbow Attack Damage: 4
00:25, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 4 using 1d6+2.

Shortbow (Extra Attack): 15
00:25, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 15 using 1d20+5.
Shortbow Extra Attack Damage: 6
00:25, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 6 using 1d6+2.

Possible to grant advantage or at least neutralize Moira's disadvantage on her next hide check?

CHA: 7
02:18, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 7 using 1d20+3. Sorry Moira D:
This message was last edited by the player at 07:18, Wed 21 Oct 2020.

OOC: Depends - how are you trying to cover for Moira?

U'lin's arm gestured the catapult crew towards the D6 gargoyle, and set his long legs to churn up the distance across the streets.  Unlike Moira's wiser strategy of avoiding detection -although dispatching one of the gargoyles so effortlessly seemed to have resulted in exactly the opposite there!- U'lin sprinted east down the cobblestones -interesting, how well they had survived, although that was likely in part due to angle and deflection of impact; perhaps reinforcing residences, and being able to angle them to deflect incoming attacks?  Or simply deflection berms to absorb bombardments, which would also help control fire, and assist safe reinforcing under fire.  Certainly have to arrange as open for targeting from within to prevent attackers using...- and slid down the side of a couple piles of rubble, but back onto his feet and rounding the corner, hammering on his shield.

As he slid to a stop, searching for targets, Moira's second shot took down the only close foe, so U'lin waited, shield and hammer raised and ready with the wall of steel that was U'lin's armour to protect Moira and Claire (and Glory, though the last seemed most reliable in her own).  Even U'lin's orc disguise might draw more attention towards himself, though that latter point was not something running through his thoughts, judging from how he stood normally.

"Lord of Creation and Wonder, bring forth your divine construction to strike down those who would so gleefully destroy great works of creation." The firbolg's voice called out resonantly, the holy symbol upon his shield glowing the warm forge fire-gold glow.  Again the familiar matching aura of his Gondish spiritual weapon emerged into being before U'lin, swinging towards trouble, and an obvious magical target at that - the gargoyles might even waste an attack or two upon it, but either way, he wanted it ready to deliver Gond's might upon the wanton evils.

---

OOC:
prep round:
double move towards Moira.
Bon: shield of Faith on U'lin

---

Round1:
Mv to N or O 30, depending how far away Moira hisses at him to move :)
Std: Ready Toll the Dead on first Gargoyle to fly within 60' range.
Bon: casting Spiritual weapon
EDIT: correct Spiritual as bonus
Remove casting Shield of Faith because would interfere with holding spell
 
This message was last edited by the player at 16:39, Wed 21 Oct 2020.

NPC'd

Prep-round: Mage Armor

Round 1:

With a cry of arcane power, Zaiya adds her own spell to the mix- a bolt of flame at the nearest gargoyle.

Move to group with party, cast Firebolt - hits AC 14 for 6 fire damage

The gargoyles hiss and scream as they swarm towards Moira's last known location. However, a flurry of arrows and arcane power meets them halfway. The northwestern-most gargoyle gets near only for a pair of arrows to fly at it from Claire. One bounces off its hide, the other nicks its wing, causing the creature to hiss in annoyance (miss, hit for 3 damage). This is joined by a bolt of flame from Zaiya that it somehow manages to pirouette around mid-air (miss). U'lins Toll however, sends it stumbling. Minute cracks appear on the creatures gem as the necrotic energies strike (U'lin, please roll damage for toll the dead. 2d12). Off-balance, it is unable to dodge as a piece of rubble is launched from the Iron Beetle right at its face (hits, resisted 9 damage)

Meanwhile, taking advantage of the opening the other two gargoyles close in as well. The north-eastern gargoyle immediately begins searching for Moira- however Claire's little distraction and the clear display of arcane power from the other two members of the party give it due pause (Perception check- 10, fails). The other Gargoyle swoops closer, but, eyes alternating between Zaiya and U'lin, as if trying to figure which one is the bigger threat.

As before, the streets are strangely empty - of sounds save those of your battle; and of corpses save the two ogres from earlier.

Round 2 - A Nastiness of Gargoyles

Combat Map
Lighting Conditions: Dim Light
Terrain: Rubble, pavement

LINK TO MAP
Warning: BIG MAP
Credits: original image taken from here: https://imgur.com/bke09Px

To make things easier to see, I've marked the enemies with a red square and allies with a green square

Gargoyle-B (blue dot) - 30ft in the air
Gargoyle-R (red dot) - 30ft in the air

Rubble marks the path of destruction caused by giants. Any square that intersects with rubble is difficult terrain.
Consider all the buildings in the center path "destroyed" - you can move and see past them. Though difficult Terrain issues still apply

I assumed all attacks are focused on the one Claire hits, since that moves closer first anyway

Initiative:
19  - Claire (39/39) [] <<<<
17  - U'lin (38/38) [] <<<<
11  - Moira (33/33) [Darkvision] <<<<
10 - Zaiya (32/32) [] <<<<
10 - Gargoyles-B (?/?)  [Heavily Damaged]
10 - Gargoyles-B (?/?)  [Moderately Damaged]
1  - Gargoyles-R (-21/?) [Severely Damaged]
1  - Gargoyles-R (?/?) [Moderately Damaged]
0  - Iron Beetle (?/?) []

If only she had a dozen more enchanted bolts and an hour, Moira figured she might've been able to handle the Gargoyles all on her lonesome purely through hit-and-run tactics.  A smoke-filled wreck full of lots of places to hide was perfect for guerilla warfare.  But time was limited and resources even more so, thus there was no choice but for all of them to wade into the fray together.

"Keep y'eyes up for th'bigg'un.  Gotta be 'round here somewhere!" Moira called amid the screeching of the swarming monstrosities.  She popped up from behind some rubble for a quick shot and promptly dove away once more, quick to relocate before the Gargoyle could even realize it'd been shot.

Action: Crossbow vs. Gargoyle-R @ J-36 w/Advantage because Hidden
Moira Ruadh rolled 19 using 1d20+8

Damage: 16
Crossbow - Moira Ruadh rolled 5 using 1d8+4
Sneak Attack - Moira Ruadh rolled 11 using 3d6

Bonus Action: Hide w/Disadvantage from Exhaustion
Moira Ruadh rolled 13 using 1d20+9

Movement: to J-32

1 +1 Bolt remains
@DM - is it possible for Moira to retrieve any of her bolts mid-battle from where they fall?
This message was last edited by the player at 04:10, Thu 22 Oct 2020.

"Here they come!" Claire yells, drawing her freshly-reenchanted oathblade from its sheath. Grasping Glory's reins tight in her left hand, the warhorse cantered about, its rider's eyes darting back and forth between the winged silhouettes circling overhead, ready to launch herself at any gargoyle that landed - with special attention to the one closest to Zaiya. "Steady old girl, we'll get 'em on the dive," she muttered, half as an aside, to Glory.

The sun-touched blade glowed, its light cutting through the smokey gloom that swaddled the still-burning city.

Ready action (Glory): Charge any gargoyle that lands. If the rider can influence the direction of charge, priority to defend 1) Zaiya, 2) Moira, 3)Iron Beetle crew. Sorry U'lin, but I have full confidence in your AC :)

Ready action (Claire): Attack target within melee range.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:12, Thu 22 Oct 2020.

The firbolg's legs crossed him to the far side of the wagon as U'lin stepped onto the tang of the nearby wagon for higher vantage point, and cast about his gaze.  The gargoyles remained too far to strike with spiritual weaponry, so U'lin called upon Gond's protection once more, and to draw more attention towards himself and away from the party.  As the golden gears glowed into existence around U'lin, they reflected light upon his gleaming steel plate girding his form, and turning the priest into a giant beacon for attention.

"Great Gond, sound your displeasure against they wanton destroyers!" he beseeched again, and again, in response, the heavy, dolorous notes echoed around one of the gargoyles, concentrating focus against it.

---

OOC:
R1dmg:
21:08, Yesterday: U'lin rolled 6 using 2d12.  Toll the Dead WS14.

---

R2:
Mv: J29(because difficult terrain, I believe this is as close as U'lin can move to the party)

Std: Toll the Dead on worst looking
06:47, Today: U'lin rolled 14 using 2d12.  Toll the Dead WS14.

Bon: Shield of Faith (concentration)
U'lin AC 24 for the next ten minutes

NPC'd

Zaiya runs to Claire for cover, launching a firebolt at the same gargoyle Moira attacked;

12:01, Today: GM, on behalf of Zaiya Alvina, rolled 8 using 2d10.  Damage.
12:01, Today: GM, on behalf of Zaiya Alvina, rolled 22 using 1d20+7.  Firebolt!~.

Another magical bolt catches the south-most gargoyle as it approaches, followed swiftly by a blast of flame from Zaiya. Both attacks hit, piercing stone and scorching its wings (hit for 16 and 8 damage). The creature hobbles weakly in the air, seemingly about to run- but it abruptly freezes as the gem on its chest pulses. With a snarl, the heavily damaged gargoyle instead circles closer, scanning for the hidden form of Moira instead of approaching. Meanwhile, another rock smashes into the west-most Gargoyle, but the creature mostly shrugs off the blow (takes 7 damage)

Each of the gargoyle's gems pulse in unison as the south-most one sniffs the air, head swiveling to look right at Moira as cackles in glee (Perception check to find Moira 19- success);

Immediately, its two companions swoop down. U'lins Toll goes off as the north-east one dives for him, drawn by the display of magic and power, but the stony creature resists the spell! (Wis save 14, pass) Instead of clawing at him however, it instead grasps the Firbolg's armor- and with powerful beats of its wings begins to fly;

U'lin, make your choice of Athletics or Acrobatics as an opposed grapple check vs 22 as the Gargoyle tries to carry you 10ft into the air (yes, it is strong enough)

The second gargoyle dives for Moira, somehow knowing exactly where the halfling is. In the air, its injured companion laughs;

Moira, Athletics or Acrobatics as an opposed grapple check vs 11. Claire, you may make your readied action attack. If both of you fail, Moira is carried 10ft into the air as well.

Round 3 - A Nastiness of Gargoyles

Combat Map
Lighting Conditions: Dim Light
Terrain: Rubble, pavement

LINK TO MAP
Warning: BIG MAP (Apologies for the low quality this round, was in a rush)
Credits: original image taken from here: https://imgur.com/bke09Px

To make things easier to see, I've marked the enemies with a red square and allies with a green square

Gargoyle-B (blue dot) - 0ft in the air
Gargoyle-R (red dot) - 30ft in the air

Rubble marks the path of destruction caused by giants. Any square that intersects with rubble is difficult terrain.
Consider all the buildings in the center path "destroyed" - you can move and see past them. Though difficult Terrain issues still apply

Initiative:
19  - Claire (39/39) [] <<<<
17  - U'lin (38/38) [] <<<<
11  - Moira (33/33) [Darkvision] <<<<
10 - Zaiya (32/32) [] <<<<
10 - Gargoyles-B (?/?)  [Severely Damaged]
10 - Gargoyles-B (?/?)  [Moderately Damaged]
1  - Gargoyles-R (-21/?) [Severely Damaged]
1  - Gargoyles-R (?/?) [SeverelyDamaged]
0  - Iron Beetle (?/?) []

This message was last edited by the GM at 04:32, Fri 23 Oct 2020.

NPC'd

Arcana 13: The gems on the gargoyle's are obviously some form of magical communication. You are reminded of a sending stone, or perhaps a message spell?

Acrobatics vs. DC 11
Moira Ruadh rolled 10 using 1d20+6

Up to Claire to see if Moira stays on the ground.

Even though she had been anticipating their attacks, the gargoyles were simply too fast. The oathblade glowed brighter, and Claire made a desperate strike at the winged fiend attempting to carry Moira off.

Greatsword Attack (w/advantage): 9
00:15, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 8 using 1d20+5.  Greatsword Attack.
00:15, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 9 using 1d20+5.

I assume this one misses. D:

Edit: Removed Extra Attack, since it isn't technically my turn.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:29, Fri 23 Oct 2020.

Still cackling, the gargoyle in between Moira and Claire grabs the halfling and swoops away, moving 10ft into the air.

Claire can't AOO because she's used her reaction already I'm afraid. However, I'll say that being mounted on Glory gives you enough reach to get it this round with your greatsword.

Regular turns are up

The way the Gargoyles seemed to hone in on her all at once clued Moira into how they might work with one another, though it was only an instinct on her part.  But she was ready as one in particular took a dive her way and tossed her crossbow up over her shoulder to its latch.  As Claire's strike went wide and the beast got past, the Halfling braced herself and lunged with the impact of being snatched up as the ground fell away from her.

On one hand, the Gargoyles were clever to target her since she was the most dangerous one in their perception.  On the other, getting right up in her face didn't change that level of danger in the slightest.

Amid the smokey air and devious cackling, Moira's gilded arms flared brightly with a shimmering glow of gold as she whisked her swords out.  With its claws occupied in holding her fast, the Gargoyle left itself wide open for her to drive both magically-infused blades in hard for that gemstone target on its chest.

Action: Dual Attack
Main Hand - Moira Ruadh rolled 11 using 1d20+7
Off Hand - Moira Ruadh rolled 15 using 1d20+7
I think a 15 hits?

Damage: 18
Off-Hand - Moira Ruadh rolled 4 using 1d8+1
Sneak Attack - Moira Ruadh rolled 14 using 3d6

Is Moira Grappled right now?  If not, would it be possible to use her Bonus Action and/or Movement to get out of the Gargoyle's hold before they go any higher?  Any way her Rogue bonus Disengage or racial Halfling Nimbleness might factor in there for an attempt?
This message was last edited by the player at 06:59, Fri 23 Oct 2020.

Surprise crosses the expression of the gargoyle as it swoops away, Moira's stab with the rapier shattering the gem on its chest. The creature let's out a wordless scream as its body turns to dust.

Of course, this means Moira had nothing holding her aloft, plummetting 10ft to strike the hard rubble below (Moira takes 6 points of falling damage and falls prone)

OOC: yes Moira was grappled. Cunning action or nimbleness wouldn't have helped, though she could have used her action to attempt to break/slip out of the grapple. All moot now though.

Feel free to continue moving Moira.

Claire you may want to wait to see how U'lins initial grapple check does

Moira was, thankfully, quite confident in her skills as an acrobat.  She'd fallen from much greater heights and had learned long ago how to roll with the impact - even as she dropped, she twisted about like a cat to redirect her momentum.  A quick curl let her absorb most of the hit as she rolled over her shoulder and sprang back up to her feet, trailing a cascade of loose debris and crackling golden energy from her brandished blades once more at the ready.

Movement: Half movement to get up from Prone, heading right back to her previous position on the map.

Anticipating a sweeping strike or scrabbling barrage, U'lin was caught out of position by reacting to the wrong attack, and in a shocking display, his heavy, heavily armoured body, was lifted into the sky.  Even as his body scrabbled -"Whaaaa-uh"- like a shellcrab flipped over by a hungry gull, part of his mind considered incorporating a giant sail to help land like a feather.

Drifting back into introspection ironically focused the distractable priest, as that was a neural path from which he'd had a lifetime of pulling himself.  Another sonorous resonance hammer at the gargoyle, even as the fire-golden spiritual weapon smashed brutally into U'lin's gargoyle, and the priest grinned fiercely back at his captor - firbolg were free folk, and had fought much greater captors.

---

OOC:
08:53, Today: U'lin rolled 4 using 1d20+2.  Athletics .
... just missed it.  By 18.

Std: Toll the Dead
08:54, Today: U'lin rolled 7 using 2d12.  Toll the Dead WS14.
WS14/7dmg

Bon: Spiritual Whammer
08:53, Today: U'lin rolled 26,11 using 1D20+6,d8+4.  Spiritual Wep.
NAT20 ba-byyyy!
18 dmg. (ok... it's good for a priest, hush!)

As the gargoyle lifts U'lin into the air, the firbolg's magics strike at its hide. Though the creature manages to resist the Toll (wis save 17, success) the force-hammer of Gond cracks it right on the gem (takes 18 damage, really, really badly injured). The force of the blow causes it to nearly drop U'lin, yet the creature maintains its grip, soaring higher and higher despite the spreading cracks on its body...

Zaiya/Claire, you're up :P

To Claire's relief, but not surprise, the gargoyle that had attempted to carry Moira away had bitten off more than it could chew, paying the price before it could get proper aloft.

One might have thought that its fate might have taught the others to be less audacious, but in what was an even more ridiculous sight, U'lin was already rising into the air, grasped by a straining gargoyle.

If it reached great enough heights to drop the firbolg, it would certainly not be as comical. Glory started forward, knocking yet more crates and barrels aside to allow her rider to sweep the gargoyle from the sky.

Move: To I-J 29-30, under U'lin.

Greatsword Attack w/advantage: 23
12:47, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 23 using 1d20+5.  Greatsword Attack w/advantage.
12:47, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 14 using 1d20+5.

Greatsword Damage: 13
12:48, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 5,6 using d6,d6.  Greatsword Damage, re-rolling 1s and 2s due to GW fighting style.

Greatsword Extra Attack w/advantage: 18
12:47, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 6 using 1d20+5.
12:47, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 18 using 1d20+5.

Greatsword Damage (Extra Attack): 8
12:49, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 1,1 using d6,d6.  Greatsword Damage, re-rolling 1s and 2s due to GW fighting style.
12:49, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 3,3 using d6,d6. Rerolls.

Total Damage: 21

"Right, let's see how this works..."

A burst of red flame sailed across the sky...  And completely flew off into the distance, fizzling out shortly afterwards.

Zaiya cursed.

OOC:  Was going to roll a Firebolt to attack the one carrying U'lin...

But nat 1 gonna nat one T_T

Bobbing, tumbling, the gargoyle steadily lifts U'lin towards the smokey night- only to be interrupted by a charging horse. Almost leaping from the saddle, Claire unleashes a pair of powerful strikes, the glowing light of her sword leaving a faint after-image as she cleaved the damaged gargoyle in two (last Gargoyle-B is dead).

With a rather unceremonious *thump* the firbolg crashes back on the ground (take 4 points of fall damage U'lin).

The remaining Gargoyle shrieks in surprise and terror- realizing perhaps a little too late that the entire party was well-prepared for them. With a cry of rage it turns to flee, dodging Zaiya's hasty bolt and the last rubble shot from the Iron Beetle (gargoyle dashes 120ft away). The creature zips away with unnatural speed, making to dive towards the warehouse where its master had fallen;

I would say that only Moira has a good chance of hitting it- you may make a ranged attack roll at disadvantage (due to range increment) to try and take it down.

EDIT: actually, Firebolt has a range of 120ft holy shit. Zaiya can try too. Anyone who can shoot things 120ft away and in the air can try.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:56, Sat 24 Oct 2020.

U'lin's hard landing earned a sympathetic wince out of Moira - hopefully his armor absorbed most of that.  But she couldn't spare distraction for long as the remaining Gargoyle turned to flee with the sudden realization that it was in way over its head despite its greater altitude.  All it took was a quick twirl to sheath her swords and take off in a sprint in the wake of the retreating beast.  Moira deftly stepped and bounded across portions of rubble, right up the length of a collapsed building support column to get herself a little more altitude just as the Gargoyle began its dive for the manor.

Just like at Amphail when she taught Rosalind target shooting, just like in so many times past when plucking dinner from the top of a moving merchant wagon... and just like when she'd perched atop Hillsfar's parapets with marching troops on patrol below.  Moira reached back over her shoulder and in a single fluid motion drew, latched, and leveled her shot.  She only had one magicked bolt left and thus literally couldn't afford to miss.  Moira hesitated a moment; breath held to still her aim and blot out the din of the burning city all around her, settling her focus as she gauged the intersection point between the Gargoyle's swoop and her bolt's trajectory.

Movement + Bonus Action Dash: 60' in pursuit of the Gargoyle to get within standard firing range

Action: Crossbow
Moira Ruadh rolled 16 using 1d20+7

Damage: 5
Moira Ruadh rolled 5 using 1d8+4

The bolt catches the fleeing creature before it can make it much further, piercing straight through its chest. The gargoyle crumbles midair, form turning to dust.

[Combat End]

"Uhmp.  Well done, all," the firbolg complimented his allies, and placed a hand upon the ground to shift his weight, retake a knee, and re-take his footing.  He rubbed his bottom, and waggled his shoulders to confirm that his ride and subsequent fall had not thrown his suit of armour out of whack.  From the pleased smile upon his proud face, the quality craftsmanship had done its work and then some, for he moved as smoothly as before.

"That was an interesting experience, Claire, but my thanks on helping before it became TOO much a interesting experience.

"Moira, such fine shooting.  Have you considered an Igniter like mine?  Especially if we don't have enough of magical bolts, terribly nice.  Oh yes, well done."

The firbolg checked on his allies, signalled the wagon to move up to cover the warehouse, and moved to enter the warehouse (first or behind the scouting hin).

---

OOC: whew, thanks again C

"Aye, I'm shocked it managed to lift you at all. With that sort of strength, I imagine they'd make competent quarry-hands," she quipped. "Pity they're such unpleasant creatures...and nasty-looking at that." She batted away flecks of stone dust suspended in the air - a silver lining to fighting such creatures being the lesser blade maintenance required.

All in all, things had gone as smoothly as they could. Moira and U'lin seemed to have come out with a few scraps and bruises, but they'd all seen worse. "What's the plan now?" she looked to Moira, awaiting her tactical assessment. "Seems as good an opportunity to press on? We still haven't seen the biggun."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:56, Sun 25 Oct 2020.

Though there was a distinct sense of satisfaction for having cleared out the Gargoyles, Moira's mood was dampened as she shifted another look into her bolt case and found nothing but a sundry mixture of mundane shots left to fire.  "Sure hope th'biggun's more like t'scrap on th'ground with us..." the Halfling sighed.  A look back over her shoulder proved that she needed to regroup with the others and she hopped down from her perch--

Con Save for funsies
Moira Ruadh rolled 8 using 1d20+1

--only to hit her knees and skitter forward to the ground as her legs gave out from beneath her on landing.  Her vision swam once more despite her efforts to shake it off quickly and she staggered back up to her feet, driven by sheer stubbornness more than anything else.  Even if her drive refused to acknowledge how exhausted she was, her body couldn't ignore the fact that she was running on adrenaline fumes.  Moira only hoped the others didn't notice how she'd faltered as she jogged back to rejoin their company.

"That went as well as we could've hoped.  Havin' those Ogres sicc'd on 'em sure seemed t'take a lot of th'fight outta th'bastards.  Fear that'd been a far sight messier if they'd been in better shape." she offered a good-natured pat up on U'lin's thigh.  "Claire's got th'right of it, U'lin - y'might do well as a bard with th'performance y'put on before."

Mention of the Igniter crossbow aside - she still recalled the Gnomish inventor back at Amphail explaining how they had a risk of exploding - Moira nodded to Claire's appraisal.  U'lin already seemed to be on top of it himself with signalling for the wagon.  "Yea, we're pressin' on in.  Th'last one's gotta be inside if th'straggler was runnin' back there for safety.  Doubt we're gonna be able t'get th'drop on it though - not with all th'noise those Gargoyles were makin', or those crystals they were sportin'." the Halfling drummed her fingertips at her chest in demonstrative echo of the gem the Gargoyles all had embedded prior.  "Gargoyles don't naturally got gemstones in 'em, and I was watchin' 'em searchin' for me before.  Th'one that tried t'snatch me wasn't th'one that spotted me in th'first place - seemed like they were communicatin' with each other, like those fancy stones SEER's got.  Gotta figure th'biggun inside's got one of 'em too and knows we're comin' already.

We gotta figure we're walkin' into a waitin' enemy, so best we spread out a bit and go in with a strong front.  Better we try and keep th'fight inside th'buildin' best we can t'limit how much air th'biggun can get.  Gotta keep it grounded as much as we can."

"Well, the good news is I've kept most of my magic topped up, and I've confirmed that they are not especially resistant to flame"

Zaiya grinned toothily, a spark of fire dancing between the fingers of her outstretched hand.

"Having something to clear out the numbers should go a long way to evening this out, don't you all agree?

"Well, if we're lucky then it's just th'one left, but y'magic'll most certainly be pullin' its weight all th'same.  'Specially if this fancy shot don't cut it.  Only got one of these things." Moira double-checked the few especially magical anti-target bolts they'd plundered from Foehammer - with luck he wouldn't be too upset they'd taken them.

The Halfling cast a look out across the ruined span of buildings and let her gaze fall to the eastern quarter where the Lionshield Coster - or whatever remained of it - laid.  Part of her mind screamed at her to rush off once more in hopes of finding her friend, hopefully cowering amid the rubble as they'd found Tetri.  But the decision came down to whether or not she could abandon her companions in a moment of need... to which she could only sigh and curl the hand that bore her platinum ring into a tight fist.  ~Please, be alive.  Stay alive...~ Moira silently prayed.

"C'mon, let's gird ourselves and get this over with."

Unless anyone's got any different ideas for an approach, Moira's all set to head in the most direct route and see what jumps out at the party.

Backed up by the Iron Beetle, the party carefully approaches the ruins of the warehouse. Despite the amount of devastation and smoke in the area, the warehouse itself does not seem to be on fire. The entire front of the building however, has been caved in as if by some massive force, revealing an enormous pit in the center. Scorch marks and deep gashes cover the remaining walls of the warehouse, both inside and out. The broken remains of some enormous pulley system can be seen to a side, wrenched out and scattered over the streets.

Between the dim light and the bits of tattered roof still remaining on the building, it is difficult to see clearly into the warehouse itself, let alone into the dark pit. At least, not without getting closer. The sounds of the Iron Beetle behind and the slow collapse of the nearby buildings (many of which are still burning) make it difficult to hear much else.

Except- was that a flicker coming from inside the pit? Some sort of blueish-white glow? Bright for a moment. Then gone.

U'lin's head pivoted back and forth as he walked towards the pit, examining the pulley system, damage to it, and measuring what weights the lines and brackets would likely bear.  His eyes focused in concentration, then his eyelids lowered as he concentrated upon something.  He pointed towards the unseen bottom of the pit, and shifted sideways, foot over foot, knowing he was not particularly quiet, but sidestepping to spread the party's clustering.

"Stone moving in the pit.  Might have a captive as well - heard a choked off scream, or something very similar sounding.

"Spread around, but stay close enough to move and attack if it moves to attack one of us."

The spiritual trebuchet poked forward towards the centre of the pit, and the glowing form  of U'lin edged closer to the pit, and away from the party.  At the last moment, he picked up a piece of glass, stuck it into the broken side of a broken-off piece of wood, and angled it to look into the pit without exposing himself.

---

OOC:
Mv: towards pit/away from party
Std: make an improved mirror on pole to look into pit without exposing himself
Bon: move spiritual weapon to centre of pit, or to attack if that can reach the baddie

"Giants sure done this place in..." Claire muttered, eyeing the scorch marks plastering the structure - no doubt from the earlier fight between the fire giants and the turnout wizard. With a light tug of the reins, Glory came to a halt a distance away from the ruined warehouse. "Stay right here," she commanded the warhorse, gently patting its muzzle.

Gripping her greatsword tightly, she caught up to U'lin, fanning out towards the party's right as they collectively advanced on the pit.

OOC: Dismount and move towards pot, on U'lin's right flank.

"Wonderful... wanted t'keep th'damn thing on th'floor and there ain't no floor." Moira groused under her breath as she brought up the rear along with Zaiya, intent on sticking closer to their Wizard for the sake of an extra line of defense.

As U'lin peeks the mirror over the edge, the shining device briefly illuminates the bottom of the pit, revealing a horrific sight.

Bodies, at least a dozen of them, strewn haphazardly around the edges of the pit. First glance suggests the majority of them to be orc, but there are a few that are too small to be anything but the natives of Triboar. They lie prone, half-shrouded in shadow, making it difficult to discern in they are dead or alive.

At the far end is a dragon, made of stone.



The creature is large, at least a few feet taller than an ogre, and just as bulky. Serrated stone plates engraved in complex runes cover a faintly glowing core of blue energy that seems to threaten to leak from the creature's eyes and mouth. A large blue gem, similar to that of the gargoyles sits in the center of its chest- the crystal cracked. Its right arm is a shattered mess. Its left holds the limp form of what might be a Triboar guard, still dressed in armour. No, not holding- its claw seems to have...merged with the guard's shoulder...?

The draconic construct turns and glares at the bobbing mirror, eyes flaring with a blueish-white glow. It growls, a horrid sound like stone grinding on stone, then hurls the guard at U'lin and the mirror!

The limp body soars 20 or so feet through the air, jutters against the pole holding the mirror aloft, then smacks into the ground next to Claire with a heavy, dull thud. It does not move.

The creature roars, then moves to grab another body-

[Roll Initiative]

As the creature roars, the entire warehouse seems to shake and flicker. Zaiya and U'lin catch sight of what might be the remanants of old wards in the woodwork, pulsing in resonance with the creatures screech. There's a faint hum, and an oppressive weight seems to flare from dragonoid statue- an aura of dominance and power, a warning to GET OUT;

LAIR ACTION: Dragon Fear - Wisdom save vs DC 11 or be Frightened of the dragon construct. You may reattempt the save at the end of your turn each round. Due to the amplifcation by the remanants of the local wards, passing the save once does not grant future immunity to this effect.

As the warehouse shudders the stone statue bounds over to the northern corner, where U'lin and Claire can see it reach over to grab the body of another Triboar guard. As it hovers over the man the construct seems to tap the gem in the center of its chest- then plunge its claw into the guard's chest.

The man's eyes and mouth open in a silent scream. Blood pools around the wound in his armor.

The creature turns and hurls the guard's bleeding body at the floating spiritual weapon above the pit. Said body passes through the ghostly weapon and slides across the cracked floor until it smacks into the half-collapsed western wall with a sickening crack (???).

From U'lins vantage point and the mirror, one might get the sense that the creature is smirking at them.

Round 1 - Rock and a Hard Place

Combat Map
Lighting Conditions: Dim Light
Terrain: Rubble

LINK TO MAP

Lower level of the pit is 20ft down steep drop, can be scaled safely with a DC 10 Athletics or Acrobatics check. Failure means you instead land prone and take 3 damage (note that if you do not have at least half movement left, you cannot get up from prone)

The different tokens look different and reflect different "bodies". The status of these bodies is unknown- verification needs a medicine check to be made while standing next to them, made as your 1/round Object Interaction Action.

Stuff in the lower level of the pit has three-quarters cover from anything trying to shoot into the pit without being right at the edge. This includes support strikes from the Iron Beetle.

Initiative:
20 - LAIR
20 - Guardian Statue (?/?)  [Lightly Damaged]
12  - Claire (39/39) [] <<<<
12 - Zaiya (32/32) [] <<<<
10  - ??? (?/?) []
8  - Moira (27/33) [Darkvision]
7  - U'lin (34/38) []
0  - Iron Beetle (?/?) []

This message was last edited by the GM at 07:38, Wed 28 Oct 2020.

A churning feeling welled up in Claire's stomach as she recalled the horror of the kobold tower. "Gods!" The sickening thuds of the guards' bodies landing nearby made her jump in fright. Even more horrible was the possibility that they had not even been granted the mercy of death, rag dolls reduced to...playthings for the arcane abomination. It was probably for the best that Grimes and his men were not close enough to have to witness their comrades' and neighbors being treated as such.

Gravel crunched under Claire's boot as her soul was blasted with a psychic anathema, just as the werewolves had done. But this time, she was not caught entirely off-guard by it. Acting on instinct, she dashed up to the nearest guard, preparing to pull him to safety on the off-chance he was still alive.

There was no time to carefully take the guard's pulse. Instead, she took a knee by the body, inching an eyelid open to watch for any movement that would indicate a wisp of life.

Move: 5ft to K10

Wisdom save: 19
11:53, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 19 using 1d20+3.

Medicine: 18
13:00, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 18 using 1d20+3.  Medicine.

Will continue the rest of my action after figuring out if the guard is still alive or not.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:15, Wed 28 Oct 2020.

The man is- alive. Horrifying, painfully alive. Almost unnaturally so-

-there, in the wound caused by the statue. A shard of blue crystal, pulsing in faint mockery of a true heartbeat. The area around the bloodied flesh is gray, oddly hard. Almost like...stone?

As Claire stares, the pulsing intensifies and the guard releases a winded gasp as the grayness spreads.

Medicine 18: This appears to be a type of curse. Crude, but potent. Claire isn't sure of the exact effects, but she knows that removing it will take careful surgery and precise use of healing magic. She also knows that she has about one round, maybe two before it spreads through the guard's entire body.

To extract the shard without killing the man, Claire needs to expend an ability that cures at least one point of magical healing and succeed on a DC 15 medicine check. Failure results in the man's death, though the shard will still be extracted. Note that this healing will not revive the guard, simply put him into a stable state.

OOC: I believe you still have an action remaining Claire

Hah.

Hahahaha.

"... Hahah"  Zaiya giggled--maybe just a little bit hysterically--at the sight.  She was expecting problems and concerns ahead.  Dangers and difficulties but nothing unmanagable.

SHE WAS NOT PREPARED TO FIGHT SOME KIND OF...  GARGOYLE DRAGON!

"AHHH!!"  She dove for cover, pulling her hood up over her horns and tugging it in, before reaching for her spellbook.  "Magic...  Magic...  Magic....  Uh....."

This was THE WORST!

She flipped the pages to the end of her studies, the scribbled mnemonics for her most recent breakthrough.  She took a deep breath to steady herself.  And then withdrew her athame.

"In the beginning there was a spark of light"  She read out, power rising at her chant, flickers of artistic runes flashing into view on the blade of the witch's blade she bore.  "Cold, alone, it darted from place to place to find company.  In the end, it reached within, and from its heart was born all things."

Violet flame spilled into the world, collecting into a tiny mote of light at the tip of her dagger.  Zaiya steadied herself, then rose up beyond her cover to point into the warehouse.

"And so the world began!"

A whip-crack of twisting air, and the mote of fire blasted off, a shockwave ruffling Zaiya's clothes as it tore unerringly into the room, faster than thought.  It caught the giant flying dragon in the side.

And exploded  Filling the corner of the chamber with twisting flame.

OOC:  Zaiya moves to G7 to take cover behind the wall there, and casts Fireball with a Level Three Spell on the gargoyle-dragon thing.  There might be some collateral damage from the downed people...

But honestly she's suspicious of why they'd still be alive fighting a monster like this anyway, she'll throw up after the giant monster dragon is reduced to rubble

26 Fire Damage, reflex halves

Also, a bit late, but she made the Wisdom Check to avoid the Dragonfear, but just because it's not impacting her doesn't mean she's not feeling it, you know?
This message was last edited by the player at 19:51, Wed 28 Oct 2020.

"That thing's put a curse on em-!"

There was no time for horror or revulsion as Zaiya's arcane explosion kicked up a layer of layer dust. Claire reflexively dove protectively over the poor guard, looking up to see the stone dragon engulfed in magical fire.

The strange, glowing shard had to be excised, that much was clear. And Claire absolutely cared not to find out what would happen if given the chance to spread its venom further throughout the guard's body.

With luck, pitching a fireball to the monster's face would stagger it enough for her to perform the crude but necessary procedure to save the man's life.

"Oh Great Mother, here are my hands. Use them as your own."

The scent of fresh wildgrass, out of place among the ruined masonry, wafted through the air. Claire reached for the shard, wincing as she attempted to carefully pry it from the guard's flesh. Chauntea's divine magicks closed up the gash.

Flinging the extracted shard far from its victim, she looked to the man's vital signs hopefully.

Expend 1 charge of Lay on Hands (6 charges remaining).

Medicine: 10
16:27, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 10 using 1d20+3.  Medicine.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:34, Wed 28 Oct 2020.

Fire fills the pit as Zaiya launches her spell, the dragonoid construct lifting its broken claw to shield itself from the explosion, but to no avail (Dex save 6, fails). The force of the blast sends it staggering away from the bodies in the upper-right corner of the pit (takes the full 26 fire damage).

U'lin catches a brief glimpse of panicked eyes and half-formed screams on the faces of the three men and women in the corner, before the flames burn them to crisp. (OOC: Yes, they were alive. No. They aren't anymore. 26 is three times the health of an average Commoner. Sorry.)

Meanwhile, Claire struggles to remove the shard- and slips, wet blood and shaking floor making it nigh-impossible to operate. Before her eyes, the pulsing gray seems to surge from the wound, covering the man's left arm as he continues to silently scream, expression frozen in perpetual agony.

Claire- you can either remove the shard -now- and end the man's life, also sparing Moira her help action. Or try again with the Help action from Moira, but the DC is now significantly higher (note that doing so will eat your reaction, since I'll be treating this as a "readied" medicine check that you are delaying to Moira's turn).

Down below, the smoke clears- revealing a charred stone construct that appears largely intact. The creatures eyes seem to swivel in the direction the fireball came from, and a grinding noise emits from its throat;

[Language unknown: [Hasect'onsdin. Yinho Santerpre.]]

The cracked gem on its chest pulses. And answering moans arise from the around the pit.

The first sign that something else was wrong was the sight of an orc(?) crawling his way out of the pit to the north of U'lin, scrabbling steadily up the lip with his thick, right arm.

His thick, gray arm made entirely out of stone.

Clambering to its feet, the once-orc shifts to face U'lin. Its right arm and chest appear to have taken a dull, gray color akin to that of stone, while horrid blue veins pulse along the fleshy bits of its face and remaining limbs. Its eyes are dull white, veined in blue. A single shard of glowing sapphire pulses from its shoulder.



The creature moans and steps forward, swiping at U'lin with gargoyle-like claws! (Hits Misses AC 21)

More moans echo from the pit, as another two (guards this time) clamber up- one landing right next to Claire, the other caught on the lip of the pit, still struggling to rise. While the degree and place of petrification on each of them is different, the once-guards appear to share the same mentality and condition as the half-petrified orc. With a rattled scream, both of them lunge at the healer! (Ledge one makes the attack at Disadvantage at Claire. Misses with an 8. Other one hits AC 23 for 5 slashing damage)

Meanwhile, the guard that had been slammed into the wall earlier groans, as his left shoulder begins to petrify...

Round 1 - Rock and a Hard Place: Midround Update

Combat Map
Lighting Conditions: Dim Light
Terrain: Rubble

LINK TO MAP

The fire is largely aesthetic, though yes some stuff was heavily damaged by the fireball, including the bodies.

Lower level of the pit is 20ft down steep drop, can be scaled safely with a DC 10 Athletics or Acrobatics check. Failure means you instead land prone and take 3 damage (note that if you do not have at least half movement left, you cannot get up from prone)

The different tokens look different and reflect different "bodies". The status of these bodies is unknown- verification needs a medicine check to be made while standing next to them, made as your 1/round Object Interaction Action.

Stuff in the lower level of the pit has three-quarters cover from anything trying to shoot into the pit without being right at the edge. This includes support strikes from the Iron Beetle.

Initiative:
20 - LAIR
20 - Guardian Statue (-26/?)  [Moderately Damaged]
12  - Claire (34/39) []
12 - Zaiya (32/32) []
10  - Stone-Cursed Zombie (?/?) []
8  - Moira (27/33) [Darkvision] <<<<
7  - U'lin (34/38) [] <<<<
0  - Iron Beetle (?/?) []

This message was last edited by the GM at 04:05, Thu 29 Oct 2020.

U'lin stood strong against the roiling fear from the pit, and doubly so against the shambling monstrosities - when raising the dead into mockeries of life wasn't evil and horrible enough!

A pair of fingers pulling back was echoed by the spiritual hammer's movement, and the glowing spiritual trebuchet smashed into the back of the zombie, even as U'lin jammed his shield against the gargoyle claws, keeping the creature at bay.

Whatever was happening on the other side with Claire... that didn't want to be considered, but the rising threats needed to be.

"LIGHT OF INSPIRATION!" he called out stridently, raising his shield's symbol of faith high, and sweeping it in an arc to face both nearby undead.  The golden cogs protecting U'lin flared in response, a smaller version of Zaiya's fireball, but passing over Claire and the injured guard harmlessly, but burning radiant light against the undead.

"This abomination here ends!  Your corruption of creation will not be permitted!" he called out to the gargoyle dragon.

---

OOC:
Codex Alera coming to mind in the scene for me.

00:07, Today: U'lin rolled 13 using 1d20+8.  Wis Save.
Pass.  Not frightened.

Bon: spiritual weapn moves to around K9, attack north zombie
00:01, Today: U'lin rolled 25,11 using 1D20+7,d8+4.  Spiritual Wep.
AC25, 11dmg

Std: Both zombies around U'lin Cnsv14 or 2d6 radiant
00:09, Today: U'lin rolled 7 using 2d6.  Word of Radiance CnSv14/2d6.

OOC: U'lin, the northern Stone-Cursed Zombie crumbles after a single spiritual weapon blow - do you want to change your action or stick with Word of Radiance?

WIS save vs. Fear
Moira Ruadh rolled 21 using 1d20+1
Nat 20 on another lair-based fear effect.  Moira is scared of werewolves, but not spooky voices, apparently.

While the rushing force that invaded their minds was shrugged off by the bold Halfling, the dawning realization of recent information that came together within her thoughts was a whole other matter.  The sight of that shambling, half-petrified soul, the gems embedded within the citizens' bodies that shone with the same gleam as that of the abomination in the space beyond.  That the Orcs had been dragged into the den rather than slaughtered on the field as the Ogres had been.  Those gems shared amid beast, victim, and the prior Gargoyles.  Claire's shout of a curse at play widened Moira's eyes with horror.

---

"They all look like deformed Dragonborn, if you are familiar with the race. Hyuth claims he created them, but my own sources suggest he found the main dragonoid construct and modeled the lesser gargoyles off it."

"The ones 'loaned' to us behaved more like constructs than living creatures..."

"Master protects me but if he's g-gone, they'll take me back. I escaped. I escaped. The others were screaming but I escaped."

---

"Oh gods, oh gods oh gods oh gods...!" Moira wheezed like the wind had been knocked right out of her as she turned past the portion of ruined entryway she'd been set behind to rush to Claire's side.  Her friend was already in the midst of what could be done and Moira hurried to shuffle through her satchel for something - anything - to help.  The first thing that leaped to mind was one of the fine vials of painkillers that they'd purchased a while prior - hopefully they were still potent.  If the body suffered, numbing its ability to feel pain could hopefully prevent the man from going into shock at the removal of the gem.  "Claire, we gotta get th'gems outta 'em!  Hurry!"

Movement: to I-10 beside Claire

Action: Using the Help Action to administer some painkillers and give Claire Advantage so she can reroll her medicine check.

Bonus Action: Hide - Stealth w/Disadvantage from Exhaustion
Moira Ruadh rolled 20 using 1d20+9

Just gonna go ahead and use that lovely Halfling racial ability to hide thanks to Claire blocking line of sight between Moira and the Boss Monster.

OOC: If U'lin can step into Claire's square to catch both remaining zombies, he'll stick.

Otherwise Toll the dead on the nearest one to give Claire room to work/retreat as needed, and to potentially come up alongside her to free her up next round.

You already have the Word damage, so I'll provide Toll damage if U'lin can't poke in :)
08:53, Today: U'lin rolled 11 using 2d12.  Toll the Dead WS14.

OOC: The issue with stepping into Claire's space is you can't end your turn there. So entering the space then moving out will provoke aoos from the zombies.

Which will it be?
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:06, Thu 29 Oct 2020.

OOC: if the edge is okay that U'lin can move through to stand at K11 like the zombie above, let's do that with Word v. the two zombies.
If the zombie is attacking from a slope, or the ground looks dicey, let's do the Toll instead on the hanger-on.

Under ideal circumstances, this sort of surgery would be challenging. But in the stress of battle, it was neigh impossible. Batting away the hand of an encroaching stone-cursed only earned Claire a set of raking scratches on her forearm.

Her other hand fumbled with Moira's proffered painkillers.

Medicine: 9
10:39, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 9 using 1d20+3.  Medicine.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:46, Thu 29 Oct 2020.

With a burst of divine magic, U'lins spiritual weapon shatters one stone-cursed zombie, the half-statue crumbling to the floor. The second one hanging off the slope screeches as its hands are eroded away by necrotic energies, and it too crashes to the bottom of the pit (weapon and toll both suceed, both Stone-Cursed dead).

Meanwhile, Claire and Moira struggle to prevent the guard from his ghastly fate- yet the shard itself seems almost maliciously sentient, fighting the healer's attempt to safely extract it from the fallen man. The blows from his zombified companions come at the worst possible time- one minute Claire has the shard almost out, the next her hands are a bloodied, grainy mess.

The cursed man lets loose a rattling sigh as the life drains from his eyes (Medicine check failed).



In answer, the dragon gargoyle stomps the ground. Rock cracks and the earth shakes-

LAIR ACTION: Stomp. Everyone make DC 11 Strength check or be knocked prone. If you are next to the pit, you fall inside, take 8 Falling Damage and land prone. (hence, both Claire and U'lin)
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:40, Fri 30 Oct 2020.

As the waves of ground shook and rippled, U'lin's grace would have put a sailor to shame, for he rode the shock with barely moving, still fixed upon the gargoyle dragon.  Clearly the time as passenger in the Beetle had done his balance well, and his natural strength absorbed the rest.

OOC:
10:12, Today: U'lin rolled 15 using 1d20+2.  Str chk DC11.

"Your power is nothing compared to the inspiration of the Wonderbringer!" he roared back, serious and determined.

---

OOC: and I can't move 5' back until my turn, so we'll play this fierce determination :P
EDIT: for clarity, U'lin's tone isn't baiting, or using Gond's name inappropriately.
More stubborn resistance: "You.Shall.Not.Pass" or "I get knocked down, but I get up again... "
This message was last edited by the player at 19:34, Fri 30 Oct 2020.

"No wait-!" Claire cried out in desperation, as though she could command the guard's spirit to stay with them through sheer force of will.

It was not to be. But there was scarce time for the stabbing despair that followed as the ground wobbled like pudding beneath the party's feet. Claire's heels chafed against the dusty floor, bracing in vain, shocked expression the last thing her companions saw before she slid over the edge.

A thud from within the pit signaled Claire's not-at-all graceful landing, followed soon after by the loud metallic clang of her oathblade, which had slid into the pit with her. A soft groan of pain wafted up as Claire gripped the hip she had landed unceremoniously on.

At least she was still alive.

Strength save: 9
12:17, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 9 using 1d20+2.

As the thundering slam from the dragon-thing shook the crumbling manor around them, Moira had to throw herself to the side to dodge a chunk of debris that crashed down from above.  She only just caught sight of Claire wheeling over the side of the pit and lunged to try and grab the young woman - a leg, her armor, anything - but fell short.  "Claire!"

Strength Saving Throw DC 11
Moira Ruadh rolled 9 using 1d20-1
Twinsies!

As Claire slips down the pit, a heavy projectile zips over Moiras head and smashes into the zombified guard next to her, pulverizing the undead creature to dust (Iron Beetle support fire hits for 11 damage). However, the attack came just seconds too late, as Claire is knocked into the pit.

As the shaking subsides, the eyes on the dragon statue seem to gleam, fixing on the prone form of Claire as she tumbled onto the stone floor beneath (Claire takes 8 falling damage). With a massive roar, the creature leaps across the pit, landing on the opposite end in front of the healer.

Electrified jaws snap at Claire, biting off a few strands of hair as the paladin ducks. The follow-up claw, heavy and sharp, catches the tumbling woman in the shoulder. Though a glancing blow, the strike easily tears of bits of metal from her armor (bite and claw at Advantage, bite misses with a 15, claw hits AC 26 for 6 points of slashing damage).

Behind the intimidating form of the stone dragon, Claire notices one of the bodies from Zaiya's ill-aimed fireball slowly flip over and groan in pain (Survivor Death Saving Throw - 1 failure).

Round 2 - Rock and a Hard Place

Combat Map
Lighting Conditions: Dim Light
Terrain: Rubble

LINK TO MAP

The fire is largely aesthetic, though yes some stuff was heavily damaged by the fireball, including the bodies.

Lower level of the pit is 20ft down steep drop, can be scaled safely with a DC 10 Athletics or Acrobatics check. Failure means you instead land prone and take 3 damage (note that if you do not have at least half movement left, you cannot get up from prone)

The different tokens look different and reflect different "bodies". The status of these bodies is unknown- verification needs a medicine check to be made while standing next to them, made as your 1/round Object Interaction Action.

Stuff in the lower level of the pit has three-quarters cover from anything trying to shoot into the pit without being right at the edge. This includes support strikes from the Iron Beetle.

Initiative:
20 - LAIR
20 - Guardian Statue (-26/?)  [Moderately Damaged]
12  - Claire (20/39) [] <<<<
12 - Zaiya (32/32) [] <<<<
10  - Stone-Cursed Zombie (?/?) []
8  - Moira (27/33) [Darkvision]
7  - U'lin (34/38) []
0  - Iron Beetle (?/?) []

This message was lightly edited by the GM at 05:46, Sat 31 Oct 2020.

A tortured metallic screech echoed in the pit, the giant stone claw shattering the corner of Claire's breastplate into fine ferrous shards. Were it not for the quality of U'lin's craftsmanship, the strike might have taken her arm clean off. Even so, the battering strike stung intensely - adrenaline alone kept her in constant motion. Rolling with the blow, Claire leapt for her sword from the edge of the inner pit, where it had fallen.

A flicker of motion at the corner of her eye, brief as it was, caught her attention.

"One of em's still alive!" Never mind that they must be on the edge of death, there was still hope so long as they had not crossed that threshold into oblivion. [Language unknown: "We tio ca ta, fowa ervir wawi Nocane!"] she yelled, not chancing discovery of her attempted ploy by the construct's malign intelligence. Even if it was only seconds, she would buy as much time as she humanely could for someone to get to the dying. As soon as the words left her lips, Claire sprang forward towards the dragon, gripping her sword tight enough to leave marks on her palms. Two swift strikes whistled through the air, aimed at the dragon's underbelly.

Exposed by her own aggressive stance, Claire knew that unless the statue crumbled there and then, its counterattack would be both swift and deadly. The priestess also knew that were she to cry out to Chauntea for protection, her goddess would surely answer, sending her devotee a shield of faith.

Her mind raced. Presenting a hard target risked turning the creature's attention to those more vulnerable. Unacceptable! Claire had no idea what the monster in front of her was capable of, or the priorities of its alien intelligence, but she gambled that it would not ignore an opportunity to dispatch a foe right in front of it. Faithful rather to the spirit of the Earth Mother's command, the paladin forwent her own litany of protection, leaving nothing but pure faith and battered armour to defend her mortal flesh.

"Mark me abomination. Today you fall by my hand." Wide open, there was little basis for her bold taunt, but the young woman lacked not for conviction.

Move: Stand (15ft) and move to M10.

Greatsword Power Attack: 16
01:17, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 16 using 1d20.  Greatsword Attack.

Greatsword Damage: 21
01:40, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 16 using 2d6+12.  Greatsword Damage, re-rolling 1s and 2s due to GW fighting style.
01:41, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 6 using 1d6.  Re-roll damage roll of 1.

Greatsword Extra Attack: 6
01:19, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 6 using 1d20+5.

That's probably not a hit, so no damage roll.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:38, Sat 31 Oct 2020.

Zaiya was a ways out, but was never known for being particularly tough--the shockwave knocked her off her feet, leaving her cursing quietly off in the distance.

But just being knocked down wasn't enough to finish her off.  She slowly clambered to her feet, and began reading off another incantation from her book.  Power gathered, and she peered over.

"Bit of a long shot here..."  She mumbled.  "But worth a shot anyway!"

She traced out a design, and threads of mystical binding winked into view, seeking to entangle the dragonoid beast.

OOC: Casting Web centered on N5, using the sides of the hole and the surface as the anchoring points, no other people should be in the 20 foot cube that manifests from this.  Only the dragon is caught in it, and it needs to make a Dex Save or be Restrained.  It can break out with a Strength Check afterwards as an Action

Also, getting back from prone but otherwise not moving.  Dragon gargoyle is scary!
This message was last edited by the player at 07:35, Sat 31 Oct 2020.

As Claire swings her glowing greatsword, the statue grunts. Its left claw suddenly flicks upwards, and with almost contemptuous ease the crystaline tips of its claws deflect the paladin's swing. The follow-up attack is dodged with ease, as the creature cranes forward with its long, serpentine neck such that its jaws loom over Claire's head, still crackling with arcane power.

Sticky strands of web erupt all over the creature's hide, dragging it back (Dragon is caught in web, but the save vs restrain is made at the start of its turn, so not yet). The dragon snaps its head up in the direction of Zaiya, and Claire can almost see its eyes narrow. The cracked crystal on its chest pulses...

...and the second guard, the one it had thrown earlier into the wall, screams.

Rapidly, the man's arms and torso are transmuted into flaky, gray rock. The scream cuts off as the now-zombified man lurches to his- no, its feet. Blue veins pulse from a tiny fragment of sapphire-blue crystal, as the undead abomination turns to glare at Zaiya (Guard converts into Stone-Cursed Zombie).

With surprising speed it lunges forward, stony arms impacting brick and tearing small chunks out of the wall (moves to H8, attacks Zaiya. Misses with a Nat 1)

Round 2 - Rock and a Hard Place

Combat Map
Lighting Conditions: Dim Light
Terrain: Rubble

LINK TO MAP

The fire is largely aesthetic, though yes some stuff was heavily damaged by the fireball, including the bodies.

Lower level of the pit is 20ft down steep drop, can be scaled safely with a DC 10 Athletics or Acrobatics check. Failure means you instead land prone and take 3 damage (note that if you do not have at least half movement left, you cannot get up from prone)

The different tokens look different and reflect different "bodies". The status of these bodies is unknown- verification needs a medicine check to be made while standing next to them, made as your 1/round Object Interaction Action.

Stuff in the lower level of the pit has three-quarters cover from anything trying to shoot into the pit without being right at the edge. This includes support strikes from the Iron Beetle.

Initiative:
20 - LAIR
20 - Guardian Statue (-26/?)  [Moderately Damaged]
12  - Claire (20/39) []
12 - Zaiya (32/32) []
10  - Stone-Cursed Zombie (?/?) []
8  - Moira (27/33) [Darkvision] <<<<
7  - U'lin (34/38) [] <<<<
0  - Iron Beetle (?/?) []

This message was last edited by the GM at 08:02, Sat 31 Oct 2020.

"One of em's still alive!"

Only one?!  For someone like Moira - who's life had been dedicated in both business and warfare to helping those in need - such wanton abuse of the citizens was a horror.  But if even one more life could be saved, it was worth the effort and the risk.  Even if she had to do something really stupid in order to try.

"Miss Zaiya, fall back t'th'Beetle if y'gotta!  Y'two, hold th'line!" while the risk of being swarmed was there, the zombified townsfolk didn't seem like too great a threat, especially not with the guards shoring up cover fire.  Moira cast a look at the shambling corpse at her flank and, with a grim hiss of breath, took off running.

Swift steps carried the Halfling along as she darted full tilt along the line of defense, faster and lighter in her stride than ever before thanks to her enchanted gear.  A damn good thing too as she hit the edge of the pit and - like the construct beast had before - vaulted herself in a full dive through the air.  Past ally and foe alike, past the sprawling magical webs, and through the lingering wisps of flame.  Her acrobatic skills remained in full as she tucked at the end of her dive into a tidy curl and roll over her shoulder to eat the momentum and bring her skittering to a halt amid the dead and dying.

Movement + Bonus Action: Full 30' and Bonus Dash to make it 60'
Because she's a Lightfoot Halfling, Moira can move through others' spaces without it costing extra movement.  Moira will move to J7 as part of a 10' running start and making a Running Jump (hers is 24' with the Boots of Striding) to get over the Web.  She should have enough movement to end her turn at S6.



Illustration for the sake of making sure everything is valid, both in the "we move in 5' square increments" game logic and for the actual physical leap being a straight line itself.  With the elevation of the edge of the pit, Moira's horizontal momentum should let her clear the Web range just fine.  That said, Moira may provoke an Opportunity Attack from the Boss Monster as she passes by it - it depends on how big its reach is considering she's jumping from a higher elevation and descending potentially through its threat range.

Acrobatics DC 10 to handle the drop w/Disadvantage from Exhaustion
Moira Ruadh rolled 15 using 1d20+6

Action: [pending]
Moira's intent is to use her Action to save the NPC, likely by using her Potion of Healing.  I'm not holding/preparing my Action - I just want to give the DM a chance to clarify what Moira sees when she arrives, specify if she needs to make a Medicine check for gem extraction, and so forth.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:48, Sat 31 Oct 2020.

As Moira leaps over the web, boosted by a faint rush of air that seems to emit from her magical footwear, the dragon statue cranes its head at the halfling. One claw swipes in the direction of the halfling- but finds the rogue just out of reach (OOC: I'll saw it doesn't have the reach for it).

With a clatter of stone and cracked tiles Moira tumbles into the corner of the excavation pit. The rocks here are still warm to touch from the earlier explosion, small flames flickering off the bits and pieces of ruined machinery and cloth. Three bodies lie in a heap, all badly burned from some heavy flame. A quick look by Moira reveals two men and one woman, all badly burnt, but without any major wounds or signs of a blue shard implanted in them.

The woman groans, and turns.

Despite the harsh burns scarring her cheeks and the amount of dust and soot caked to her forehead, Moira recognizes this woman as Alaestra Ulgar, owner of the Lionshield Coster branch in Triboar and Darthag's ex-wife.

Moira was quick to shuffle herself to Alaestra's side with her own body to shield the woman from anything that might come from the battle beyond.  She sat her friend up against herself as best she could manage as she shuffled in her satchel, desperate for the familiar press of reinforced glass to find her palm.

"C'mon, c'mon... keep with me, love, please..." the Halfling urged as, with a quick bite to the cork that held her potion capped shut, she spat the stopper aside and brought the vial to Alaestra's lips to ease the restorative liquid in.

Action: Moira feeds a Potion of Healing to Alaestra for 7 HP
Moira Ruadh rolled 7 using 2d4+4

Are the other burned folk all clearly dead already, or are they in the process of death saving throws as well where subsequent Medicine checks might stabilize them?

Claire's fall down the steep slope - she was out of reach before he had barely seen her disappear - that was an unfortunate situation, and a dangerous one, with the dragon attacking Claire on top of the fall.

U'lin was sliding down the slope before he had done much more than consider if the risk was high on Zaiya -only one, and she was likely the strongest in magical power remaining, and had the Beetle and the archer trio and dwarforamus- before deciding that she was safe, or at least much safer than Clai- holy flying Hin!  With Claire down, and Moira distracted, U'lin's sturdy leather boots guided him down, keeping purchase with help of a shield-tip acting as a brake/balance.

A flick of will send the spiritual trebuchet to engage the dragon, but U'lin hit a large protruding rock, jogging aside his direction, and sending the spiritual weapon off worse than the dragon trying to reach Moira.  Stumbling large strides threatened to pinwheel U'lin across and down into the next pit, but his long legs managed to gather themselves in time to launch him from the wall.

U'lin's magical hammer swung a warning, checked strike, then whipped back around an expected block - it might not have packed the explosive power Claire could unload, or the exquisite precision Moira dished out... but a smith didn't forge a blade in one blow, and each helped, and might take some attention from Claire.

He held a shield high, trying to ward his companion.  "A helping hand, daughter of the Earthmother?"

---

OOC:
Slide down to K9
21:05, Today: U'lin rolled 15 using 1d20+2.  Athletics .
Success.

21:04, Today: U'lin rolled 16,20,7 using 1D20+6,d20+6,d6+3.  Hammer of Throwing.
AC20, dmg7

20:43, Today: U'lin rolled 8,11 using 1D20+7,d8+4.  Spiritual Wep.
Big wiff w/ nat1
EDIT for clarification: Adv on U'lin's attack b/c Zaiya's web restraining dragon
This message was last edited by the player at 13:48, Sun 01 Nov 2020.

"...w-who? Moira?" Alaestra groans softly as the healing potion takes effect. The woman is alive, but clearly delirious. The other bodies are far worst off, and do not seem to be breathing - though whether thats from the gargoyles or the flames, is hard to tell.

The other nearby body is a bit more unusual - the bisected upper body of a grey-haired man in wizard robes, his clothing heavily singed, a burnt satchel clutched in his right hand while bony fingers reach out towards a cracked, sapphire-blue orb.

Meanwhile, the dragon statue struggles towards U'lin as the firbolg slides down to meet it. A powerful swing from the firbolg forces the creature to dodge, sending it skeeting back into Zaiya's conjured web, sticky strands engulfing its hide (Dex save 9, fail!). Angered, the statue lets loose with another powerful roar;

LAIR ACTION: Dragon Fear - DC 11 Wis save from everyone again, or be frightened of the Dragon Guardian. You may reattempt the save again at the end of each of your turns. This is a fear effect.

As it does so, lightning seems to crackle around the dragon, and a faint hum accompanied by the tang of ozone fills the air. The glow from its gem brightens in intensity as it begins to pulse rapidly. With a deep snarl, the dragon statue violently tears itself out of the web (Action to break free, rolls a 17 for its Strength check). It lunges out of the web and spins to block off Claire and U'lin, claws and teeth looming over them while the lightning surging from its core begins to pool and gather in its mouth...(???)

A boulder soars through the air and crashes against the far end of the pit, the Iron Beetle operators attempting to home in on the lightshow occuring inside the pit (Iron Beetle attack, 9 misses)

Round 3 - Rock and a Hard Place

Combat Map
Lighting Conditions: Dim Light
Terrain: Rubble

LINK TO MAP

The fire is largely aesthetic, though yes some stuff was heavily damaged by the fireball, including the bodies.

Lower level of the pit is 20ft down steep drop, can be scaled safely with a DC 10 Athletics or Acrobatics check. Failure means you instead land prone and take 3 damage (note that if you do not have at least half movement left, you cannot get up from prone)

The different tokens look different and reflect different "bodies". The status of these bodies is unknown- verification needs a medicine check to be made while standing next to them, made as your 1/round Object Interaction Action.

Stuff in the lower level of the pit has three-quarters cover from anything trying to shoot into the pit without being right at the edge. This includes support strikes from the Iron Beetle.

Initiative:
20 - LAIR
20 - Guardian Statue (-26/?)  [Moderately Damaged]
12  - Claire (20/39) [] <<<<
12 - Zaiya (32/32) [] <<<<
10  - Stone-Cursed Zombie (?/?) []
8  - Moira (27/33) [Darkvision] <<<<
7  - U'lin (34/38) [] <<<<
0  - Iron Beetle (?/?) []

This message was last edited by the GM at 05:44, Tue 03 Nov 2020.

"Thanks for the save!"  Zaiya waved over to U'lin--only to shudder down to the bones as the stone dragon beastie roared out again.

Why!

Why was this thing so terrifying!

"AHHHH!!" Zaiya shrieked, athame lashing out a staccato of firebolts that slammed into the dragon's flank.  "WHY IS THIS EVEN A THING ANYWAY!"

Of course, whatever it was doing...

Did not look good at all.  For anyone.  Was it a dragon's breath weapon?  Preparing some kind of spell?

Either way, Zaiya wanted no part of that!

So she ducked and covered, trusting in the security that is 'Having a wall between you and the monster' to give her some level of sanctuary.

OOC:

Action: Using Firebolt, hits AC 17 (I think that's enough?), does 12 Fire Damage
Movement: To G4, I'm presuming that's both difficult terrain and breaks line of sight with the dragon--if it's about to breath weapon that should make me safe?

Wisdom Save DC 11 vs. Fear w/Advantage
Moira Ruadh rolled 5 using 1d20+1
Moira Ruadh rolled 3 using 1d20+1

It was rarely a case that Moira was afraid for herself so much as for others.  And when she had her wounded friend, helpless and barely hanging on, in the midst of all that danger?  The roar that shook the building and made it all too clear how easily things could shift in an instant toward doom put an awful dread in her.  She wanted to take a shot at the beast's back but couldn't risk it turning its attention around on her when Alaestra was there...

"I'll explain later.  Just keep still." there were many things she'd rather do just then, but matters being what they were demanded haste.  Moira gingerly shifted her friend to lay down and tried to urge her more toward the corner to huddle in whatever cover could be gained.  In the meantime she looked about for anything that could be of use - any angle she could take, any advantage to be gained.  Her hands shook too much for her to trust herself with the only precious magic bolt she had to fight such a monstrosity.

As Moira's gaze found the ruined body of what she assumed had been the Wizard responsible for everything, she immediately seized on that blue orb and the satchel.  "C'mon, gotta be somethin' that'll help t'stop this thing..." the Halfling hurriedly pulled the bag to her knee to dig through it while she kept the cracked orb in her other hand.

Action + Free Action
Moira will retrieve the Wizard's things and look through the satchel for anything that might be useful.

Bonus Action: Hide w/Disadvantage from a whole bunch of stuff
Moira Ruadh rolled 15 using 1d20+9
Moira's out of the Boss Monster's line of sight and amid bodies, so odds are she's got stuff to hide behind.

End of turn Wisdom Save DC 11 vs. Fear
Moira Ruadh rolled 3 using 1d20+1
This message was last edited by the player at 00:02, Mon 02 Nov 2020.

Covered in dust, blood dripping down her arm's length from shattered left shoulder, the junior priestess from Nightstone hardly cut a heroic figure. At least there was some comfort to be had from the sight of Moira safely making her incredible leap, arriving at the stricken townsperson in the corner of her vision.

Fully expecting oblivion's embrace in the next split-second, the thunderous crack of U'lin's hammer amid dragon howl jolted Claire's attention back to the foe before her. As the monstrous statue staggered, entangled by arcane threads, she looked incredulously to the firbolg, who heedless of his own safety, had dived into the pit beside her.


U'lin's calmness was almost entirely out of place considering the mortal danger they found themselves in, but it nonetheless coaxed a smile from the battered paladin.

She would not squander the precious few seconds her allies' assault had bought. Shrugging off both pain and fear alike, Claire dove out from under cover of U'lin's shield. The monster had proved unnaturally fast for its size, and she looked desperately for an opening.

"The gem!" she yelled to U'lin. As the monster flailed, freeing itself from Zaiya's magical strands with brute force, she dashed in under it, as close as her stance would allow. The hilt of her oathblade dripped with red, covered in the blood that soaked her left sleeve. There was barely time to recall Foehammer's words, but perhaps it mattered not. The young woman aimed a powerful blow at the abomination's heart.

"I am a servant of She Who Shapes All,
Great Mother of the mortal races.
Called to defend Her creations,
I answer, obedient to Her will."

The oathblade flared to life, and glowing vines erupted from between the stone cold floor, surprising even the priestess herself. In that moment, all doubt was eradicated, all her dreams made sense.

"With my plowshare,
I will bring forth new life.
With my sword,
I will scour the unnatural from Her Earth.
In Chauntea's name,
Perish, abomination."

There would be no going back to Nightstone.

Wisdom save: 17
13:55, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 17 using 1d20+3.

Big damn hero music begins: https://www.youtube.com/watch?...;ab_channel=animelab

Greatsword Attack: 23
14:41, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 23 using 1d20+5.

Greatsword Damage: 9
15:54, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 1,3 using d6,d6.  Greatsword Damage, re-rolling 1s and 2s due to GW fighting style.
15:54, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 4 using 1d6.  Re-roll damage roll of 1.

Bonus: Ensnaring Strike (Oath of the Ancients)
Target must succeed on a DC 14 Strength check (w/adv as it is large) or be restrained by magical vines. While restrained by this spell, the target takes 1d6 piercing damage at the start of each of its turns.

Greatsword Extra Attack: 25 (Nat 20 CRIT)
14:42, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 25 using 1d20+5.

Greatsword Damage: 19
15:57, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 5,5,5,1 using d6,d6,d6,d6.
15:57, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 2 using 1d6.  Re-roll damage roll of 1.

Divine Smite Damage (expending L2 spell slot): 19
16:02, Today: Claire Larkspur rolled 19 using 6d8 ((3,2,3,6,4,1))

Total: 46 damage (+ any damage that may be incurred by Ensnaring Strike later)
This message was last edited by the player at 01:07, Mon 02 Nov 2020.

U'lin's focus weathered the rolling waves of dragonfear, but shrugged aside its debilitating effects.  That was not to say it had no effect, for he lost a mental force of step as he called upon the deepening belltone of necromantic energy.

The weakness of the attack did help pull aside the inhibiting curtains, however, and U'lin's will send Gond's spiritual weapon crashing into the back of the deranged construct.

But Claire's cry and oath... that drew a nod of agreement from U'lin.  He knew he was far from a powerful person, but Claire's faith and amazingly powerful strikes - the party succeeded in great part because of her faith and power and Moira's craftiness and skill, and this was a very strong, and immediate demonstration of just such power.

---

OOC:
Dragonfear...
17:43, Today: U'lin rolled 17 using 1d20+8.  Wis Save.
Success.

---

Std: 17:49, Today: U'lin rolled 7 using 2d12.  Toll the Dead WS14.
-not so good

Bon: 17:47, Today: U'lin rolled 14,12 using 1D20+7,d8+4.  Spiritual Wep.
AC14, dmg12 - not bad