The Fey, the Far, and the Ugly Space In Between

Tecklenburg · Feb 22, 2015

I don't even think about making a break toward the path that leads past the waiting-in-ambush Roper. I have to start a fire here where I have the fuel and the kindling. Either I'm going to die...or they are...

The enemy above me is the most pressing. I search my memory banks for what this creature is and what he might do. I've scoured the underworld tunnels of the Feywild in dealing with fomorians and the goblins of Nachtur. I've likely come across all manner of ambush predators like Ropers and whatever this is.

[sblock]Spout Lore (Int)
5, 4 + 3 (+1 racial) = 13

The GM will tell you something interesting and useful about the subject relevant to your situation.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
Oh yeah. Plenty of times. Its a Darkmantle. These creatures are sort of like the stalactite, flying version of Ropers, replete with long tentacles, except a bit different. They have a huge membrane that spans their circular body which lets them fly and engulf prey. They see only by echolocation so you can screw them up with high frequency sounds. Sometimes they're able to snuff out light sources with magical darkness. Better get another tender twig ready!

Alright. Near range. Bones everywhere? I'm going to, very carefully and slowly, reach in my backpack for another tender twig. Then I'll bend down and pick up a nearby skull. I'll strike the second tinder twig on the ground and leave it at my feet - a 2nd AG spent. I'm going to put my first tender twig between the eye-holes of the skull. Before the creature can act, with the skull in my offhand, I'm going attack with blades of cutting air and simultaneously throw the skull with the tender twig so it smashes to the ground but well out of the Roper's reach.

My intent is to lay a barrage onto the creature while giving it a moving, noisy, well-lit target that hopefully it perceives as its prey.

[sblock]Wind Slash (Int)
5, 4 + 3 (+ 1 from DR) = 13

Deal your damage and apply 1 technique. d8 damage = 7 damage.

Soul-Siphoning: Your attack heals you for 1d4. Heal 1d8 instead if this attack kills your target.

1d4 HP healed = 1.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
Your blades of cutting air rend the creature from its perch and your nethermantic magic restores your vitality. At the same time, the tossed skull crashes to the stoney earth making a great clatter. Just as you had hoped for, the Darkmantle descends from its perch, swooping down on the skull and snuffing the tender twig's light with a mote of supernatural darkness. You hear the leathery sounds of it wrapping itself around the skull and the crunching of it as its unseen maw consumes it. However, you cannot see it due to the darkness.

With your perfect sequencing of magic and swordplay, your heart begins to thrum with a song of power. Time seems to slow down momentarily. Take + 1 forward to Flawless Bladework, Wind Slash or Defy Danger.

I grab another skull from the ground and throw it hard against the wall, away from the Roper.

Per Manbearcat
The creature flies out of the mote of darkness toward the wall and hovers right above the broken shards of the skull for a moment, trying to perceive prey.

I feel the trance of the Bladesong taking me. It must be it. What else could it be? The legends of my people hold that the lost art of the Bladesong was equal parts craft and gift. Only the rarest of the rare could hear the song. Rarer still were those who could fall into it. Become one with it.

I attempt to do so and vanquish this first threat.

[sblock]Wind Slash (Int)
6, 6 + 3 (+1 forward) = 16

Deal your damage and apply 1 technique. d8 damage = 8.

Soul-Siphoning: Your attack heals you for 1d4. Heal 1d8 instead if this attack kills your target.

1d8 HP healed = 5.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
Your blades of cutting air tear the Darkmantle to pieces and it falls lifeless to the ground. As its spirit ebbs, you feel your magical conduit funnel it into you, restoring your vitality and warming your freezing limbs.

The world slows to a crawl around you. Watching the creature fall to the ground seems to take forever as you step out of the normal flow of time. Everything is an instrument; your beating heart, your intake of breath, your blade perfectly severing the air around you, the sizzle of the tender twigs, the creature's death throes, and the subtle sounds of the earth in motion. Its a perfect orchestra. Your senses take in everything with perfect acuity and your body becomes the perfect conductor of battle.

You take + 1 ongoing to Flawless Bladework, Wind Slash, and Defy Danger until you roll less than a 12.

We can handle the rest of the scene tomorrow. I'm toast.

Tecklenburg · Feb 22, 2015

Alright, on to the Roper!

After I slay the Darkmantle, I walk over to its remains and slide my blade under its ruined flesh. I know the Roper's tentacles have extremely long reach so I want to be careful to stay just outside of Near range of it but I want to flick the Darkmantle's flesh just inside Near range of it. The idea is to tempt it to feed and thus reveal the length of its range to me.

Per Manbearcat
Easily enough done. The creature is not terribly heavy, so a flick of your blade sends a healthy portion of the ruined carcass toward the Roper, just inside what would be "the whites of its eyes" range. The creature doesn't stir.

We both know each other are here. There is little use in playing coy. I'm going to toss the tender twig that I laced through the skull's eyes nearer the Roper, illuminating the area as best I can. I sheathe my blade and draw forth my bow. Feeling my quiver, the well of my arrows is running dry - 1 Ammo. I back up as far as I can as I draw my bow and string an arrow, eyes never leaving the beast. When I'm as far back as I can, I loose.

[sblock]Volley (Dex)
3, 4 + 1 = 8

d8 damage. 7 - 2 armor = 5 damage.

I can't afford to give up 1d6 damage or the Ammo. For my complication I'll choose:

You have to move to get the shot placing you in danger as described by the GM.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
You feel the song ebbing from your heart and mind...the out of body experience ending and your mortal vessel returning entirely to your own command...time affixing to its normal pace.

The stoney floor slopes ever so slightly downward toward the water until you get to Far range from the exit (and where the Roper waits in ambush). There the grade is much more significant...and much more slippery. You cannot possibly set your feet there to get a shot and as you move back to solid footing, a gush of water explodes your way. Perhaps a piece of the ice sheet fell off or a large creature entered the water beyond your sight. Who knows, but something has caused something of a rogue wave to manifest and its going to wash you into the water if you don't immediately move much further into the cavern...toward the Roper...

You can freely move in to Near range as your shot is loosed, or you can Defy Danger to stay where you are. Your choice.

I dash back up the slope and into the deadly domain of the Roper. This creature frightens me little while the water surely promises a worse fate with less control over the outcome.

Per Manbearcat
As your arrow strikes the creature's rock-like flesh, all pretense of being an innocuous stalagmite is immediately given up. As you rush nearer to it to avoid being swept over, the creature oddly shimmies toward you and the huge reach of its many-fold tentacles, like a giant squid, are brought to bear against you.

[sblock]Defy Danger to avoid being stunned and dragged to its toothy maw![sblock]

I attempt to dive toward the creature, somersaulting through the web of tentacles, and closing the distance to it.

[sblock]Defy Danger (Dex)
2, 2 + 1 = 5

Marked 1 xp[/sblock]

Except not!

Per Manbearcat
You dive over one, somersault to your feet and begin a headlong sprint toward the creature...only to have your feet taken from you by a pair of grasping tentacles. Several more slam into you, slap upside your head, almost stealing your consciousness from you. You can sense you're being drawn toward your doom and you can feel your bare feet being scraped along the stone.

As you reach the toothy maw to be devoured, your senses foggily return in the nick of time. You're grasped by several tentacles and a wee bit wobbly. You can Defy Danger to get free, but you take - 1 ongoing until you are indeed free.

My head clears long enough to register the impending death before me. Right before the creature tucks me down its gullet, I swing my legs up and plant them firmly on the stony stalk of its body near its terrible hole for a mouth. I push off and flex my body with all of my strength to get free!

[sblock]Defy Danger (Str)
5, 6 - 1 (- 1 OG) = 9

Success but the GM will offer you a worse outcome, hard bargain, or ugly choice.[/sblock]

Your heroic desperation wins your freedom! Your summoned might and squirming causes the tentacles to fall away, but the exhaustive effort takes its toll on you! And you're right in the "face" of the nasty creature, its huge central eye staring at you, its hungry, toothy maw yearning to feast...

[sblock]Roll 1d4 environment damage to yourself - no armor[/sblock]

Go ahead and make a move.

[sblock]1d4 damage and no armor. 2 damage to me.[/sblock]

The split second my feet hit the ground I become a whirling dervish of blade and spell.

[sblock]Flawless Bladework (Int)
3, 4 + 3 = 10

d8 damage and 2 techniques. 2 - 2 armor = 0 damage.

Burst: Your attack deals an additional 1d4 damage and gains the ‘forceful’ tag. Rolled 4 damage.

Soul-Siphoning: Your attack heals you for 1d4. Heal 1d8 instead if this attack kills your target. Rolled 1 HP returned.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
The blast of thunderous force from your bladespell slams into the stalagmite-like body of the creature, upending it. It hits the ground with a stone-splitting crash, bones splintering all around it. Its tentacles flail wildly in a vain attempt to protect and upright itself. You stand over it with clear advantage.

Go ahead.

My onslaught continues.

[sblock]Flawless Bladework (Int)
1, 4 + 3 = 8

d8 damage, 1 technique and your opponent attacks you. 6 - 2 armor = 4 damage.

Torrential: Your attack ends with a flurry of strikes that your opponent must dedicate effort to blocking or avoiding. If they instead attack you in response to your attack, deal your damage again (this does not apply techniques).[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
Grey blood fills the air and wets the earth. Your feet are soaked in it. Two. Three. Four tentacles are eviscerated in the deadly exchange. The creature uprights itself in one last desperate attempt to murder this "prey" it likely wishes it would have never tangled with. The remaining flailing tentacles force you towards its mouth and it stretches the stalk of its body to chomp you!

[sblock]Roll 1d10 + 1 damage to yourself and you can make your counterattack for Torrential.[/sblock]

I throw my off-hand forearm, well-protected by my elven chainmail, into the creatures gullet. While the pressure of its bite aches my arm, the sting of my blade in the other hand sends this creature to whatever maker concocts such vile things.

[sblock]1d10 + 1 damage to me. 5 total - 2 armor = 3 damage to me.

Torrential counterattack is 5 - 2 = 3 damage.[/sblock]

When I'm sure the cavern has fallen silent, I begin the task of harvesting the driest mushrooms and fungus to start a fire. When I've got a significant pile for a firepit and a significant enough pile to keep the flame going for a few hours after that, I grab the tender twigs and watch the blaze take. When I'm satisfied with it, I'll shuck my poncho, my clothes, my armor, and my padded undergarments. The fire will be near a wall so I can use the wall's undulations and protrusions to hang my garments out so they can dry from the fire's warmth.

I'm running low on food and water. Well, I'm running low on everything. If these mushrooms are nonpoisonous or if the darkmantle's "wing" flesh can be harvested and smoked, I'm going to do that. I'm also going to boil some of the river water in a skull or something.

I'd like to check out the Roper's lair for any coin or items of interest.

Finally, I'd also like to try to fashion a torch out of the Roper's stalks and cover the top in the fat of the Darkmantle.

[sblock]Spout Lore (Int)
2, 3 + 3 = 8[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
That's good enough. You don't know the best means for harvesting the nonpoisonous parts of the fungus nor the best means to handle and smoke this meat, but you get enough edible food and potable water for 1 Ration accrued.

In the dust, debris and boneyard, you find a few (2) stray coins. More interesting than that, you find a leather choker with a an uncut, bright yellow stone set into some poorly worked silver. On the stone is an amateurish engraving in goblin; SUN. It clearly radiates warmth.

In the few hours spent there, your clothes get dry and you've got a poor-man's torch that might give you half an hour's worth of light for exploration.

Hmmm. After I've regeared, I'll pocket the coins and place the choker around my neck, feeling the welcomed heat in my breast. I'll then make sure all of my supplies are in order, light the torch, and warily head up the path that leads out of this chamber, a silent prayer on my lips that it might lead to somewhere hospitable.

OTTHOR

HP 10/21
XP 12
AG 1
RA` 2
AM 1

Manbearcat · Feb 25, 2015

[MENTION=6775039]Binks[/MENTION], as you said, you aren't going down the crevasse after Otthor so I'm going to transition you and your motley crew directly to Earthmaw. If you want to scribe a prologue capturing events from the loss of Otthor to the short jaunt ;eft to Earthmaw, feel free.

As the last rays of the day's sun work impotently on the frozen ice and snow, the expansive cavern, looking eerily the part of a huge mouth with two vast boulders-as-eyes resting asymmetrically atop its stoney roof, greets you with a tempered bustle.

The multiple goblin clans, the human settlement that you just left, and the barbarian tribes of the northern Coldlands make up the humanoids of this mountain realm. This neutral setting is the highland center for trade and has long been claimed by the strongest of the goblin clans. Their clan name literally translating to "dragon-favored" from the goblin tongue, they are strong because of the sponsorship of the great white dragon Averandox, this due to their consistent tribute. His glacial lair serves as the gateway to the northern Coldlands. With it abutting their home, they have no need to fear any enemy reprisal nor any raids from the northern barbarians. Their tenured, good stewardship of this place is mutually beneficial to all communities of the realm and this is well-understood and respected. Goods flow freely. Communities get what they need. Tribute is given to the dragon by proxy of the trade. The dragon stays fat and happy. Everyone gets to keep their heads on their shoulders. The peace is kept. For the most part.

There are three wooden signs prominently on display as you take in the view of the enormous cavern, lit by torches on stanchions. All are pictorial in nature:

* An open palm with coins accompanies an arrow pointing in. An empty palm has an arrow pointing away.

* A figure is shown stealing. The figure is then shown losing their hand.

* A figure is shown on its knees begging another figure. The beggar is then shown shackled and leashed.

Regarding the last, you see one such figure, shackled and leashed, amidst the quieting clamor of the "marketplace". Not all, but most of the stalls for jewelry, woven items, trinkets, dry goods, totems, foodstuffs, charms, weapons etc have closed up shop. However, the huge, iron portcullis in the back of the massive cavern lies 1/3 still open as hobgoblins and goblins still mill about, bartering last minute deals. Speaking of the last sign, nearby, a human male of middle age pours water on the frozen earth and mops up a large blood-stained area that probably served as a slaughterhouse where a butcher peddled live wares or good omens were purchased from a shaman/oracle. His hobgoblin master is clearly agitated by a deal going south as, while gesticulating to another goblin, he indifferently yanks on the chained leash tied to the man's neck and leg manacles, sending the man toppling to the ground, covered in the blood he is cleaning up. A young girl flashes into view trying to rush over to attend to him. She is immediately pulled back by the hobgoblin holding her leash who castigates her and points at a collection of laid-out furs that she, presumably, was rolling and binding.

The cowardly little goblin pulls a pouch from inside his coat, upturns it and empties it into your hand. 2 coins. He shrugs his shoulders.

What are you doing?

Manbearcat · Feb 28, 2015

Tecklenburg said:
Hmmm. After I've regeared, I'll pocket the coins and place the choker around my neck, feeling the welcomed heat in my breast. I'll then make sure all of my supplies are in order, light the torch, and warily head up the path that leads out of this chamber, a silent prayer on my lips that it might lead to somewhere hospitable.

The path moves upward and switches back a few times at a fairly steep grade. Soon you hear the sounds of spoken language echoing off the tunnel halls. Goblin tongue. Something about "King Ornrak not letting anyone leave is going to starve them all...tired of eating cave-shrooms...soon they're going to be sifting through their own dung or eating their dead...the starved dead...humans with their goats haven't been here for weeks." Someone answers with a "shut up and get rid of the garbage."

The sound of a portcullis raising. A "Hurrrrrk..." and then weird liquid sounding shuffling from further in. The first goblin calls back to the second "you say something?" A muffled sound and then wet, squishing sounds.

You round a final bend and as your torch-light plays off the stone walls of the narrow path, it exposes the edge of the raised portcullis you heard prior. Fresh blood emerges from somewhere beyond your line of sight...around that final corner...oozing down toward you with the steep decline of the path.

All is still save your dancing torchlight and the advance of the blood toward your feet.

Tecklenburg · Feb 28, 2015

Manbearcat said:
The path moves upward and switches back a few times at a fairly steep grade. Soon you hear the sounds of spoken language echoing off the tunnel halls. Goblin tongue. Something about "King Ornrak not letting anyone leave is going to starve them all...tired of eating cave-shrooms...soon they're going to be sifting through their own dung or eating their dead...the starved dead...humans with their goats haven't been here for weeks." Someone answers with a "shut up and get rid of the garbage."

The sound of a portcullis raising. A "Hurrrrrk..." and then weird liquid sounding shuffling from further in. The first goblin calls back to the second "you say something?" A muffled sound and then wet, squishing sounds.

You round a final bend and as your torch-light plays off the stone walls of the narrow path, it exposes the edge of the raised portcullis you heard prior. Fresh blood emerges from somewhere beyond your line of sight...around that final corner...oozing down toward you with the steep decline of the path.

All is still save your dancing torchlight and the advance of the blood toward your feet.

I don't want to step in that blood and leave tracks everywhere, possibly incriminating myself as well. The goblins surely have light sources in the chambers ahead of me. Assuming the tunnel is just a few feet wide here, maybe 3-4 feet like a normal hallway, I'm going to do a Spider Man thing and leap up and wedge myself with my legs, spread eagle. I'll sheathe my sword, put my torch in my mouth and use my hands to carefully move forward while wedged. When I get around the bend and can see the raised portcullis and into the room I'm going to take my torch from my mouth and throw it into the room, hoping to attract the attention of whatever is in there. With my legs wedged and my hands freed, I'm going to rip my bow from my back and string an arrow, training it on my line of sight into the center of the room and my torch.

What happens and what do I see?

Per Manbearcat

1) A dimly lit room with a worked stone floor, a few torches in recesses into the walls, and refuse-filled barrels.

2) The grisly remains of the two goblins you heard talking. They appear to have been engulfed violently with random appendages severed in the consumption. The legs of the goblin who raised the portcullis are the source of the blood that was seeping down the path.

3) Puddles of transparent, pinkish goo near where both of the remains lie.

For a moment, all is still and quiet as you survey from your wedged perch between the walls. Then, suddenly a grotesque creatures darts into view; a pile of amorphous pink flesh with an impossibly large mouth, 3 eyes aligned vertically above the mouth and tentacles strewn about the mess of a "face". Something of a "tail" trails the bulbous mass.

Its clearly an "advanced" version of what you've seen before. A rancid smell accompanies the nastiness it secretes. It skirts the torch you threw, a weird, sliding, squishing locomotion aided by the whip of the tail and the tentacles.

I don't waste any time. My strung arrow flies free.

[sblock]Volley (Dex)
4, 2 + 1 = 7

d8 damage. 5 - 1 armor = 4 damage.

I'm going to choose - 1d6 to my damage as my complicaton. Rolled 2. So 2 damage total.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
Your arrow sinks into the creatures flesh and it recoils. It darts away out of your line of sight with surprising quickness.

I stow my bow on my back, leap from my perch for the portcullis, grabbing the bottom and swinging into the room. When I hit the ground, I'm drawing my blade.

Per Manbearcat
The creature is gone but a clear trail of slime leads to a wall where the creature ascended vertically. It ends in a natural vent, not terribly large, that the creature must have squeezed into.

Well, this is not good. I want to look around the room for any more of these vents that the creature might have used to enter the room. I can't have it getting the drop on me.

[sblock]Discern Reality (Wis)
2, 3 + 0 = 5.

Marked 1 xp[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
As your eyes scan the room for any other points of entrance/egress in the stone walls and ceilings, the sound of a creaky hinged door from the far end of the room stirs you from your search. A squat goblin shambles into the room, flipping a coin and catching it on the back of his hand. Before his attention is drawn from his game of catch he says in goblin, "I heard you guys could use some...help..."

The moment he sees you and the carnage of the room, he bolts back from whence he came, the coin clanging off the floor and rolling before it comes to a rest somewhere amidst the tangle of refuse barrels. The shout of "Elf!" from his lips echoes off the corridor walls and rings through your mind like nails on a chalkboard.

Well, options are pretty limited. I can only hope that many didn't hear his call. I have to get to him before the whole place is alerted. With one final look of consternation at the vent that the creature went through, I break into a dead sprint.

[sblock]Defy Danger (Str)
6, 2 + 0 = 8.

Success but the GM will offer you a worse outcome, hard bargain, or ugly choice.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
Your much longer legs and athleticism are well equal to the task of the pursuit. Stairs wind upwards in something of a pronounced spiral and maybe twenty paces in and you're at the top within Close range of the goblin as he breaks through the doorway.

You can easily put your sword into his back (just roll damage), but you'll be doing so in front of a pair of goblin laborers who are busy eschewing their responsibilities (it looks and smells like they're supposed to be boiling and handling excess leathers for the creation of glue - pots and equipment for such is everywhere) and instead dicing it up in the corner.

When he bounds into the room with you hot on his heels, they both look up, annoyed, and then immediately look at the hallway opening several paces away from them.

I'll just grab him instead and I want to Parlay with these guys the best way I can. I'll grab him with one arm, manhandling him with something of a headlock. If he squirms, I'll tighten it until he stops. With my sword outstretched and pointing at the surprised laborers, I'll speak to them. "I am an elf of no small magical power. I could slay you both where you stand. But I wish not to. There is a predator loose in your halls. If we do not discover it, and quickly, many more will die beyond your two companions in your refuse basement."

[sblock]Parlay (Cha)
6, 5 + 1 = 12[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
The goblins exchange looks and one of them speaks in surprisingly good common. "Let Gnorl go and we will help you find it 'elf of no small magical power.' Can you slay it?"

The paranoid looks on their faces and their scanning of the walls and ceilings tells you they easily believe your story...perhaps they aren't unfamiliar with it.

Go ahead and respond verbally and let me know what you plan to do and then I'll reframe things in a bit.

"Can I slay it?" I gently let go of Gnorl and let him join his companions. "This beast is more advanced than the ones I've seen, and slain, before...but its flesh is no less vulnerable to my arrows than the other ones. Yes. I can slay it." I look at the vats of boiling leather. "Grab some tongs and bring your leather. I believe the beast to be in some sort of feeding phase before it cocoons again. Clearly it is hungry. Follow me." I search for a pot of already-made glue. If I find it, I begin to head back down the stairs to the refuse basement.

Obviously I want to set up some bait for the creature. I think the smell of the boiling leather should attract it nicely. I want the goblins to place the stinking boiled leather below the vent and I'll cover the surrounding stone floor with glue, hoping that the creature might get stuck for a moment. They can huddle safely in the corridor and keep watch. I'll hide behind a barrel nearby and engage it should the trap work.

Binks · Mar 1, 2015

Manbearcat said:
@Binks, as you said, you aren't going down the crevasse after Otthor so I'm going to transition you and your motley crew directly to Earthmaw. If you want to scribe a prologue capturing events from the loss of Otthor to the short jaunt ;eft to Earthmaw, feel free.

As the last rays of the day's sun work impotently on the frozen ice and snow, the expansive cavern, looking eerily the part of a huge mouth with two vast boulders-as-eyes resting asymmetrically atop its stoney roof, greets you with a tempered bustle.

The multiple goblin clans, the human settlement that you just left, and the barbarian tribes of the northern Coldlands make up the humanoids of this mountain realm. This neutral setting is the highland center for trade and has long been claimed by the strongest of the goblin clans. Their clan name literally translating to "dragon-favored" from the goblin tongue, they are strong because of the sponsorship of the great white dragon Averandox, this due to their consistent tribute. His glacial lair serves as the gateway to the northern Coldlands. With it abutting their home, they have no need to fear any enemy reprisal nor any raids from the northern barbarians. Their tenured, good stewardship of this place is mutually beneficial to all communities of the realm and this is well-understood and respected. Goods flow freely. Communities get what they need. Tribute is given to the dragon by proxy of the trade. The dragon stays fat and happy. Everyone gets to keep their heads on their shoulders. The peace is kept. For the most part.

There are three wooden signs prominently on display as you take in the view of the enormous cavern, lit by torches on stanchions. All are pictorial in nature:

* An open palm with coins accompanies an arrow pointing in. An empty palm has an arrow pointing away.

* A figure is shown stealing. The figure is then shown losing their hand.

* A figure is shown on its knees begging another figure. The beggar is then shown shackled and leashed.

Regarding the last, you see one such figure, shackled and leashed, amidst the quieting clamor of the "marketplace". Not all, but most of the stalls for jewelry, woven items, trinkets, dry goods, totems, foodstuffs, charms, weapons etc have closed up shop. However, the huge, iron portcullis in the back of the massive cavern lies 1/3 still open as hobgoblins and goblins still mill about, bartering last minute deals. Speaking of the last sign, nearby, a human male of middle age pours water on the frozen earth and mops up a large blood-stained area that probably served as a slaughterhouse where a butcher peddled live wares or good omens were purchased from a shaman/oracle. His hobgoblin master is clearly agitated by a deal going south as, while gesticulating to another goblin, he indifferently yanks on the chained leash tied to the man's neck and leg manacles, sending the man toppling to the ground, covered in the blood he is cleaning up. A young girl flashes into view trying to rush over to attend to him. She is immediately pulled back by the hobgoblin holding her leash who castigates her and points at a collection of laid-out furs that she, presumably, was rolling and binding.

The cowardly little goblin pulls a pouch from inside his coat, upturns it and empties it into your hand. 2 coins. He shrugs his shoulders.

What are you doing?

2 coins

That isn't so good. That is enough for a Bundle of Arrows but that is about it. We're low on Rations and Adventuring Gear as well. Losing my bag of coins was really not so good.

I'm going to have to think this all through here. I figure that these two humans are one of the two refugee families, father and daughter, from the now lost settlement. They were probably begging and now they're slaves by law. Break an unjust law to benefit another. I get it. I can't just let them stay as slaves here but I flat out can't do much about it right now. I can't take them with us. It will be infinitely more dangerous in the wilds and those are two more mouths to feed that we can't really support right now. We will have to free them on our way back when we can go directly back to their settlement, hopefully with the other refugee family in tow. It may be that they'll just have to forsake their highland settlement dreams and go to Giliad's Rest at the base of the mountain. We shall see.

I've got to think on what to do here. I'm just going to roll my Supply move for now and write out a bunch of stuff that needs to get accomplished for current and future reference.

[sblock]Supply (Cha)
4, 4 - 1 = 7

✴On a 7–9, you’ll have to pay more or settle for something that’s not exactly what you wanted, but close. The GM will tell you what your options are.[/sblock]

Let me know what comes of the Supply move while I think on what I want to do. Alright, in no particular order:

* Resupply - Rations, Ammo, Adventuring Gear

* Locate Otthor. Maybe these goblins know the underground river and where it leads to.

* Confirm the Earthmaw humans are one of the two refugee families. Secure their freedom and take them home.

* Locate the other refugee family and take them home.

* Secure an audience with the dragon or the king of the Earthmaw goblins. If we have to go to the upper highlands, the Coldlands, we will have to trek directly through his lair. He will either have to be placated or dispatched! Maybe he can help us? Being a dragon, I'm sure he sees this whole area as his territory. Its in his best interest to put a stop to whatever is happening here. Its claiming his food source and his subjects or minions.

* Find out what is in the major bodies of water that is creating the noise and imagery that is causing everything to go crazy, eventually morphing into an aberration. It must be Far Realm taint.

* Investigate the dark tower in the Coldlands.

Manbearcat · Mar 2, 2015

Tecklenburg said:
"Can I slay it?" I gently let go of Gnorl and let him join his companions. "This beast is more advanced than the ones I've seen, and slain, before...but its flesh is no less vulnerable to my arrows than the other ones. Yes. I can slay it." I look at the vats of boiling leather. "Grab some tongs and bring your leather. I believe the beast to be in some sort of feeding phase before it cocoons again. Clearly it is hungry. Follow me." I search for a pot of already-made glue. If I find it, I begin to head back down the stairs to the refuse basement.

Obviously I want to set up some bait for the creature. I think the smell of the boiling leather should attract it nicely. I want the goblins to place the stinking boiled leather below the vent and I'll cover the surrounding stone floor with glue, hoping that the creature might get stuck for a moment. They can huddle safely in the corridor and keep watch. I'll hide behind a barrel nearby and engage it should the trap work.

That all looks good to me. Gnorl and the other two goblins are pretty unnerved and meekly defer to your plan. They let you know that over the last few days in the compound, folks have come up missing and the physical evidence stacks up just like it does in this particular occasion; unrecognizable gore and trails of goo leading away from the scene into the walls/ceilings.

We'll open up just as you have written above here. Here is your move to lure the creature into your trap:

[sblock]ITS A TRAP!
When you spring a dastardly trap with some stinking leather and a pot of ACME glue - like Wile E Coyote (what could possibly go wrong?) -, roll + Int. On a 10 + it pretty much goes according to plan. On a 7-9, the creature shows up but on it's terms, not yours.[/sblock]

Binks said:
Let me know what comes of the Supply move while I think on what I want to do.

Adventuring Gear is out of your league, pauper. However, you can snag arrows at a ratio of 1 coin:2 Ammo and rations at a 1 coin:1 Dungeon Rations (dried/smoked cave-shrooms) ratio.

Also, there is a quick little goblin putting away his table where he was swindling folks at Cups and Balls (roll +Wis, 1 coin investment for double your money on 7-9 and take + 1 on another game with 10+) and an old "oracle" performing readings with cards (roll +Cha, 1 coin for basically a varied Discern Realities).

Listening to the conversations, its an eclectic form of Commlin (hybrid common, goblin). You can understand enough to trade.

Tecklenburg · Mar 4, 2015

Manbearcat said:
That all looks good to me. Gnorl and the other two goblins are pretty unnerved and meekly defer to your plan. They let you know that over the last few days in the compound, folks have come up missing and the physical evidence stacks up just like it does in this particular occasion; unrecognizable gore and trails of goo leading away from the scene into the walls/ceilings.

We'll open up just as you have written above here. Here is your move to lure the creature into your trap:

I'm crouched hidden nearby behind one of the many barrels in this basement, so when the creature comes out, I can pounce immediately.

[sblock]ITS A TRAP! (Int)
6, 6 + 3 = 15.

The plan goes off without a hitch.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
As the goblins huddle in fear on the stairwell leading up and out of the room to the the tannery/glue-factory, the malodorous boiling leather lies invitingly on top of your glue trap. The stench would be horrendous if your olfactory senses weren't so recently overwhelmed by the awful smell of the tannery. But that stench is clearly enticing to this aberrant creature.

The stooping in wait nearby doesn't last terribly long. Within 10 minutes, the odd creature is squishing its, seemingly invertebrate, body between the cracks of the natural vent. It almost oozes out of the confined space, but when it fully emerges, you can tell that it has already grown in size from when you last encountered it, the shaft of your broken arrow still protruding from the grey-purple mass of its "body."

When it hits the ground, its face opens up like a fish with a mouth that can swallow something fully its size. It consumes the pile of stinking leather scraps and when it tries to extract elongated body and a few of its tentacles that touch the floor, it finds itself stuck.

You're up.

I pounce with a flurry of steel, magical force and nethermancy.

[sblock]Flawless Bladework (Int)
5, 4 + 3 = 12

d8 damage and 2 techniques. 4 - 1 armor = 3 damage.

Burst: Your attack deals an additional 1d4 damage and gains the ‘forceful’ tag. Rolled 2 damage.

Soul-Siphoning: Your attack heals you for 1d4. Heal 1d8 instead if this attack kills your target. Rolled 2 HP returned.[/sblock]

For Burst, I don't want forceful to push him out of the glue. I want my force magic to smash it into stone floor and the glue trap, keeping its body stuck and hopefully trapping all of its tentacles.

Per Manbearcat
You feel the perfect harmony of your mind, body, steel and magic immediately. As before, time seeme to slow for you as the violence unfolds, hurtling toward an inevitable crescendo. But something has changed. It seems a part of you now...natural....an organic outgrowth that possesses you as much as you possess it...tell us what it is.

[sblock]No bonuses for any 12 +. That was just a deal to reinforce the up front. You can now build your PC into the Bladesong. I'll post the moves soon.[/sblock]

I've heard stories of elven blademasters earnestly seeking The Song for centuries and not finding it. I've heard stories of those who possessed it attempting to pass it down with a failure rate so high that it was believed that it couldn't be taught. I now believe that to be correct. I think Correlon instills very few with his mysteries. Why he invests them with this divine spark, this insight into the cosmic rhtyhm that binds sword to spell, can only be guessed at.

I will not guess at the reason. I will simply honor this gift, using it in defense of all of Correlon's children, his allies, and his principles. I will lay his enemies low and let him reveal his purpose as he might. This I swear to myself silently, knowing he will hear it, as I vanquish the Far Realm taint before me.

Per Manbearcat
The perfect strokes of your elven blade tear into the creature, rending grotesque flesh and a tentacle or two. Your magic siphons its life and ensnares its remaining tentacles in the gooey trap.

It is not quite done yet, however. Your mind is awash with psychic compulsion. A language born of deranged sounds assails you. While you cannot understand it, it clearly demands your fealty. While you resist the compulsion of this immature creature, the goblins fall under its thrall. They immediately dart from the steps and awkwardly, as puppets, rush you.

What are you going to do? If you don't deal with either them or vanquish this aberrant horror, the goblins will fall upon you. The three of them are enough to take you to the ground.

If I end this creature's miserable life, I'll end its sway over the goblins and won't have to risk harming them. I trust myself and The Song to finish this. I don't break the trance.

[sblock]Flawless Bladework (Int)
6, 6 + 3 = 15

d8 damage and 2 techniques. 3 - 1 armor = 2 damage.

Burst: Your attack deals an additional 1d4 damage and gains the ‘forceful’ tag. Rolled 2 damage.

Soul-Siphoning: Your attack heals you for 1d4. Heal 1d8 instead if this attack kills your target. d8 damage as its dead. Rolled 3 HP returned.[/sblock]

With the creature slain, I quickly turn to the the goblins and hold out my arm to catch them before they awkwardly run into me or fall into a heap themselves. As their senses return, surely they are wondering what they are doing in the room and charging me when their last thoughts were of cowering on the stairwell. With all the contact that cavern dwelling creatures have with mindflayers and other creatures of that ilk, surely there is a word in the goblin tongue for "mind magic." I simply say that to them and return my attention to the ruined aberration before us, inspecting it and culling my mind for the answer as to what it might be.

[sblock]Spout Lore (Int)
2, 3 + 3 = 8.

the GM will only tell you something interesting, it’s on you to make it useful.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
An immature Aboleth...the aquatic, mind-bending race of Far Realm creatures with ambitions so foreign that the mortal mind would collapse on itself if attempting to unravel their alien machinations.

How do you know this. Where have you heard of them?

I have never encountered the creature. Our people encountered their terrible inversion of all that is natural so long ago that confirmation of their actual existence is now scarce. Their legend runs deep as horror stories for our people. Mothers use them in precautionary tales. Friends use them in campfire tales. The mind magic and the anatomy stoke my memory.

They are here harvesting mortal creatures to renew their species.

As the goblins crowd around, I stand up and, without my eyes leaving the corpse, I flatly say "get your king" in their tongue.

Per Manbearcat
We'll wait on Binks before moving to the next scene.

Binks · Mar 6, 2015

I peruse all the merchants' wares and the hucksters' offers. Its tempting, but Saerie definitely isn't the type to gamble, especially when resources are so precious. And she doesn't care for false prophecy either. Peddlars of fortune and swindlers can go hang.

I turn to the goblins and pantomime the hands to the face nap sign and point to out here. I then rub my fingers together to intimate coin.

Per Manbearcat
They are a domino line of shrugged shoulders as they each look to the other to see if someone knows the answer.

Ok. Well this place will protect us from the wind, is naturally ventilated so we can start a fire, and is huge so there will be plenty of rooms for the animals. Hopefully after all the merchants have closed up shop and broken down their stations, we can camp here.

I want to walk up to the hobgoblin that looks like he runs the show here. On my way there, I want to stroll by the human male who is cleaning up the gore. I will quietly whisper to him as I walk by. "Hold strong. On my way back from the Coldlands, I will secure the release of you and your daughter and take you home. I swear it." When I reach the hobgoblin overseer, I will stand up as straight as I can and project confidence. "How much coin for shelter for myself and my band for the evening out here?" When I say "my band" I will turn and swing my arm out wide so he can see the many animals and the three goblins.

Per Manbearcat
The overseer is clearly military. His leathers and heavy cloak are well kept. He stands as straight as an arrow, hands crossed on his chest, eyes missing nothing. If you want to whisper the above to the human, you're going to need to Defy Danger (Cha) so we can find out if he missed your little interaction with the human and/or if he cares.

I definitely want to do it.

[sblock]Defy Danger (Cha)
6, 2 - 1 = 7

Success but the GM will offer you a worse outcome, hard bargain, or ugly choice.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat

[sblock]Peasant lodging for a week = 14 coins - Cha. For you, that is 6 coins. That is a slightly less than 1/day but its basically a lump sum deal. This is less ideal than even peasant lodgings but you've got quite the crew here. I'm going to charge you both your coins here for you and your pack.[/sblock]

The tight-faced hobgoblin unfolds his arms and holds up the number two with his fingers. "But if your animals make a mess that you don't clean up, it will be costing you more. He turns and points at the huge portcullis cutting off the cavern from the interior. Once the merchants have broken down their carts and tables and everything is inside, that's it for security." He points at the hobgoblins standing sentinel on the outer perimeter of the cave. Looking grimly at you, he says "...you're on your own. This place stinks of a good meal for scavengers and hunters come evening. Especially with your beasts. If they come a callin' for your bones, you better be extra handy with those weapons...because don't even think the gate will raise for you and yours." He has full mastery of the common tongue.

He comes in close. "And outlander. Don't think that I didn't catch you whispering to that criminal on your way over here. That is a lot of nerve. They're both property of King Ornrak. Wierd coincidence that several outlanders show up in such a short span. And no elves call this domain home. So why don't you go ahead and tell me your purpose here before things get nasty...you are not just 'passing through', as the humans say..." A few armed hobgoblins take note of this exchange and move in to flank the overseer.

I'm going to use this to my advantage. I'll just tell him the truth...well, most of it at least.

"Your people pick their leaders well. I can see why hobgoblins are renown for their insight, shrewdness, and pragmatism. I''m more of an outlander than you know. My people hail from the Feywild, as do I. They sent myself and my companion, another elf, here to protect our homes from Far Realm threats using this place as a staging point for an invasion. These lands have a problem with aberrant creatures, no doubt from the Far Realm. Ending their malignant purpose is why I am here.

I'm sure your King Ornrak recognizes this threat already. Surely you have felt the weight of it. I offer my aid in this cause. Perhaps our people can assist one another?"

Hopefully he is distracted by the respect offered and the boldness of my plea so he disregards that I didn't address what I said to the human. My leverage here being legitimate aid from myself and Otthor in their plight. They are right in the epicenter of this.

[sblock]Parley (Cha)
4, 5 - 1 = 8

On a 7-9, they will do what you ask, but need some concrete assurance of your promise, right now.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
"Our king is dragon-favored. What makes you think he needs the help of frail elves? You've proven nothing of your merit." He turns to one of the largest of the stout, helmed hobgoblin soldiers behind him. "Ruka." The figure comes over and removes its helmet, revealing a feminine but brutally scarred and menacing face. "Test of Flame" he says to her. She takes off her gauntlet and holds her hand out before you both, again revealing terrible scarring, palm down. On cue, one of the other hobgoblins grabs a pair of torches from the stone wall and brings them over.

The overseer looks at you, clearly a beckon to do the same.

If you're going to do it, DD.

I stare hard into the eyes of the hobgoblin overseer and do not break it. My glove comes off, revealing the calloused hands of an endless hunt in the harsh wilderness. I place my bare hand out before all, palm down. When the fire tickles it, then stabs at it, I use all the hardship of my life as my armor...and focus on my mission.

I figure I can either physically or mentally endure here. Its probably more mind than it is matter but I'll go ahead and go with Con anyway.

[sblock]Defy Danger (Con)
4, 2 + 1 = 7

Success but the GM will offer you a worse outcome, hard bargain, or ugly choice.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
The moment seems to stretch out toward infinity. The pain becomes a searing thing and when it combines with the stink of your burning flesh, your stomach turns. Ruka is a statue the entire time.

"Enough," says the overseer. The goblin pulls the two flames away from your hands. Ruka puts her gauntlet back on without even addressing the wound. He dismisses her and she goes back to her position, putting her helmet back on. He watches her go and as he does so, he says "not one of my troops has held their own with Ruka in the Test of Flame."

[sblock]You take - 1 forward to do anything with that hand.[/sblock]

Suddenly, the sound of chains fill the air. When the great portculis raises enough for a figure to stoop through, two figure emerges in a hurry. The two hobgoblin warriors salute the overseer. He bids them to speak. "Sir. An elf has slain the stalker of our tunnels. Its not of this world. The King requests your comapny in addressing him."

The overseer looks back at you with a raised eyebrow. "Bring your group inside."

I work hard to keep a smile from crossing my face when I find out that Otthor is ok.

I call the goblins and my animals over and we follow the hobgoblins. We're all more than happy to be out of the cold. I'll wait until we're alone to wrap my burned hand. I don't want to show any weakness in front of the hobgoblins.

Manbearcat · Mar 8, 2015

The antechamber is a spartan, minimalist room. It is large with high ceilings, yes, but the few accommodations are stone wrought chairs that align the two walls perpendicular to the shared wall of the king's chambers. There is no formal throne room. He clearly receives worthy visitors there in his own chambers. The only noteworthy aspect of the antechamber is a large statue of a rearing ancient white dragon. The artisan was clearly of average ability.

The overseer who brought you in has been called out by underlings as High Constable Ozark. You are briefly reunited in the antechamber before you are debriefed on presentation and protocol. Two hobgoblin servants approach you and go over things while High Constable Ozark looks on. In short:

- You are allowed to keep your weapons, but each of them are peace-bonded with a frilled leather strap tied to a rock weighing enough to make the use of your weapons awkward (literally awkward tag). This signifies and functionally reinforces that you come in peace.

- Once you enter the chamber, you will both bow, arms out wide and loudly utter "may we humbly enter the lair of the dragon's chosen?" When the king bids you to enter, follow the servants directly to where he will receive you.

- The animals and goblins stay out in the antechamber.

Shortly thereafter, the great stone doors to his chamber are knocked upon and opened from the inside. The room is not remotely the lavishly adorned display of opulence one would expect from a king. Again, stone wrought furniture, including the throne in the back (cut from the very wall) and a great, long table for feasting and receiving. All furniture is covered in heavy white furs as are the stone floors pocked with a few area rugs. The only bit of wealth on display is the huge round bed where his harem inevitably serves him. Their quarters must be elsewhere.

The king is standing at the head of the long table. He cuts a striking figure with hefty lamb chops, whitened by age. He bears a long white fur cloak with a pair of bone claws as a clasp. On his head sits a crown in the motif of a swept-back white dragon frill. High Constable Ozark is regarded by King Ornark and he moves next to him. The resemblance is striking...they must be closely related.

After the small bit of entrance ceremony, his strong, gravelly voice bids you "enter." On the table are several bowls with spoons and mugs. The bowls must have just been served as the soup inside is piping hot with steam. "Join me for a delicacy" says the king. "Darkmantle-Wing soup. I slayed the creature's mother when it was a pup and brought the entire brood back. Within a year, this was the lone, hardy survivor of the group. He lived a good life. A noble predator. He served my kingdom well. We will honor him by ingesting his remains." He clearly doesn't look pleased that you killed his "pet" Otthor.

"Sit" he says.

The Fey, the Far, and the Ugly Space In Between

Tecklenburg

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Tecklenburg

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Manbearcat

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Manbearcat

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Tecklenburg

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Binks

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Tecklenburg

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Binks

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Manbearcat

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