"Let's go!" enthuses the death cleric.
D&D 5E Storm King's Thunder
seriousmoonlight
Explorer
|
Tranio has no need to wait, but will if others desire. As he leaves, he looks for a short sword or rapier among the victims, or possibly a chain shirt that would fit him.
The wagon (he presumes) continues to wait for them outside the village area. He'll take a ride with Spud if it's going that way (or if he can convince the wagon to go that way). He also remembers to pick up the war hammer he left in the grass outside.
The wagon (he presumes) continues to wait for them outside the village area. He'll take a ride with Spud if it's going that way (or if he can convince the wagon to go that way). He also remembers to pick up the war hammer he left in the grass outside.
KahlessNestor
Adventurer
Nightstone
Evening
Round 0
“Aye, we best be after ‘em,” Dren said. “If the goblins ‘ave ‘em, they need rescuin’, an’ if the wee buggers dunnae, then we need t’ keep it tha’ way. Shuildnae be tae ‘ard t’ track a pack o’ fleein’ villagers. Where are these bat caves?” Dren asked the guards.
[sblock=Actions]
Move:
Action:
Bonus Action:
Reaction:
Conditions:
[/sblock]
[sblock=Stats]
AC: 14
HP: 12/18 HD: 2/1d8
Ki: 2/2
[/sblock]
seriousmoonlight
Explorer
|
Eveyone: The guards introduce themselves while you catch your breath.
Torem Breck is the cranky Veteran guard. The young drunk is Sydiri "Syd" Haunlar. There is also a red headed warrior who seems the most distraught over Lady Nandar’s passing. She said little to all of you and mostly cried into her drink. She did introduce herself as Alara Winterspell. Finally, there is Kaelen Zam. She is the guard most concerned for the villagers.
Tranio: You are able to find a short sword and chain shirt, but not luck with a rapier. Torem scoffs at even the mention of such a flamboyant weapon.
Dren: The guards explain the bat caves are to the north, the same direction the tracks Eldrath found head.
Fistan: The curious cat from before suddenly flies through the keep window and lands on your shoulder. You now see it has a collar that reads “Rillix”.
Everyone: Torem and Alara lead everyone back to the village. They’re going to lower the drawbridge and take the first watch while the party is away. After crossing the bridge, you all spot fresh goblin tracks in the bank. It appears that a few goblins hid during the fighting. Once the coast was clear, they swam down river to safety.
As you all approach the raised draw bridge, a magical green glow starts flickering in Fistan’s hand. Someone or something is outside the village.
“Kella! Kella, where are you,” a voice desperately screams beyond the walls.
Alara creeps up into one of the watch towers and peers outside.
“Cloak wearing swordsmen on horseback,” she whispers. “Seven of them.”
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Tranio takes the chain shirt, and tries it on for size. Apart from the huge tear over the heart, and the associated bloodstains which redden his undershirt, and one or two arrow holes, it fits fine. He seems overjoyed. He leaves his scale mail, still shining and newly polished, and offers it to one of the guards. "Perhaps you'd like it, or it would be fitting to bury someone in?" he asks.
In any case, he seems happy with the exchange, even if the deceased does not give formal approval. Then he sets to work, beginning with the arrow holes. A quick mending spell over each causes the chain links to animate and reform, knitting themselves together the way a crystal might grow in an alchemist's lab. First one, then the next, reaching behind him, his elbow akimbo in order to reach the hole that now is no longer there.
Finally, the rent over the heart. The mending is less perfect this time, and you can still see where the opening has knitted itself together, a long gash across Tranio's chest signifying a life lost in a battle in which he himself never fought. The blood will wash off in time, the cleric thinks.
The sword was easier to find, still clutched by a hand that stretches from beneath one of the boulders that he now realizes must have been thrown by the giants. There was probably a scabbard there too, he thinks, but Tranio has no means to move the boulder, and so finds another, decorated with a horsehair plume as if it once belonged to a cavalry officer, or a teenage girl.
It was then that mention of other horsemen (or were they the same?), approaching quickly, rung in his ears. Tranio ran to a defensive position -- a window perhaps, or an arrow slit, from which he could see the horsemen approach.
He readies a spell, chill touch, to send into the middle of whatever pack should appear.
In any case, he seems happy with the exchange, even if the deceased does not give formal approval. Then he sets to work, beginning with the arrow holes. A quick mending spell over each causes the chain links to animate and reform, knitting themselves together the way a crystal might grow in an alchemist's lab. First one, then the next, reaching behind him, his elbow akimbo in order to reach the hole that now is no longer there.
Finally, the rent over the heart. The mending is less perfect this time, and you can still see where the opening has knitted itself together, a long gash across Tranio's chest signifying a life lost in a battle in which he himself never fought. The blood will wash off in time, the cleric thinks.
The sword was easier to find, still clutched by a hand that stretches from beneath one of the boulders that he now realizes must have been thrown by the giants. There was probably a scabbard there too, he thinks, but Tranio has no means to move the boulder, and so finds another, decorated with a horsehair plume as if it once belonged to a cavalry officer, or a teenage girl.
It was then that mention of other horsemen (or were they the same?), approaching quickly, rung in his ears. Tranio ran to a defensive position -- a window perhaps, or an arrow slit, from which he could see the horsemen approach.
He readies a spell, chill touch, to send into the middle of whatever pack should appear.
Tranio suddenly thinks of poor Spuds, waiting all this time, and looks to see if he is at all safe, even if alone he is beyond the wall and between attacking hooded riders and safety.
Charwoman Gene
Adventurer
Bethany readies herself for combat, moving close to where the drawbridge might open.
seriousmoonlight
Explorer
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TallIan
Explorer
Fistan
Wizard 1
Fistan spends some time petting Rillix. Now that he has had some time to see the creature he is quite excited to have attracted the attention of such a favoured familiar. As he feels the bond form, Fistan looks around the town for a store, planning on getting some items for a spell. Finding what he needs he sits in front of a small fire chanting magical syllables and sprinkling various herbs onto the fire. Coloured, scented smoke rises from the fire and Fistan's chanting resolves it into the shape of a basket, gradually becoming more and more solid. Lulled by the chanting Rillix sniffs around, showing ever more interest in the basket. When the basket appears solid, Rillix settles himself in it and doses off. With a wave of his hand, Fistan finishes the ritual and Rillix in his new basket disappear with a soft pop.
As he finishes, the alarm spell that he set up outside the gate goes off and shouting comes from outside. Fistan goes to investigate, trying to find out who they are and heading for the bell tower of the church.
[SBLOCK=Mini Stats]
Passive Perception: 12
AC: 12 (15 with mage armour, 17/20 with shield)
Initiative: +2
HP: 8/8 (HD: 1/1d6)
Conditions: Mage armour
Offense
Spell attack: +5 to hit Spell DC: 15
Firebolt: +5 to hit 120ft 1d10F
Quarterstaff: +1 1d6-1B
Luck: 3/3
Spells
CANTRIPS (3): FireBolt, Light, Minor Illusion
LEVEL 1: (2/3): *Mage Armour; *Shield; *Sleep; *Fog Cloud (C); Thunderwave*; Unseen Servant (R); Alarm (R); Find Familiar (R)
[/SBLOCK]
Wizard 1
Fistan spends some time petting Rillix. Now that he has had some time to see the creature he is quite excited to have attracted the attention of such a favoured familiar. As he feels the bond form, Fistan looks around the town for a store, planning on getting some items for a spell. Finding what he needs he sits in front of a small fire chanting magical syllables and sprinkling various herbs onto the fire. Coloured, scented smoke rises from the fire and Fistan's chanting resolves it into the shape of a basket, gradually becoming more and more solid. Lulled by the chanting Rillix sniffs around, showing ever more interest in the basket. When the basket appears solid, Rillix settles himself in it and doses off. With a wave of his hand, Fistan finishes the ritual and Rillix in his new basket disappear with a soft pop.
As he finishes, the alarm spell that he set up outside the gate goes off and shouting comes from outside. Fistan goes to investigate, trying to find out who they are and heading for the bell tower of the church.
[SBLOCK=Mini Stats]
Passive Perception: 12
AC: 12 (15 with mage armour, 17/20 with shield)
Initiative: +2
HP: 8/8 (HD: 1/1d6)
Conditions: Mage armour
Offense
Spell attack: +5 to hit Spell DC: 15
Firebolt: +5 to hit 120ft 1d10F
Quarterstaff: +1 1d6-1B
Luck: 3/3
Spells
CANTRIPS (3): FireBolt, Light, Minor Illusion
LEVEL 1: (2/3): *Mage Armour; *Shield; *Sleep; *Fog Cloud (C); Thunderwave*; Unseen Servant (R); Alarm (R); Find Familiar (R)
[/SBLOCK]
