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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 5008028" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p>The heat of the summer day beats down on the party as they move along, footsore and weary. The afternoon is long and clear, bright with the overhead sun.</p><p></p><p>“Look,” Vann-La says, pointing into the distance behind them. “Did you see that? Something is glinting in the distance- it could be someone in armor or something. It’s definitely metal, though.”</p><p></p><p>“You have really sharp eyes,” Torinn comments, as nobody else caught a glimpse of it. The party proceeds, casting frequent backwards glances. Indeed, whatever the metal thing is, it seems to be drawing closer. “Do you have any better idea of what it is?” the dragonborn asks the Kree warrior.</p><p></p><p>Squinting, she replies, “I think it’s a single figure in armor.” Then, she exclaims, “No- not in armor- it’s a warforged!”</p><p></p><p>“Then it is probably an ally,” muses Heimall, “although they have been playing their cards pretty close to the vest, so to speak.”</p><p></p><p>“We don’t even know what they have been up to, since the end of the siege,” Cook points out. </p><p></p><p>“There’s one way to find out,” Ligir says. “Let’s wait and talk to it.”</p><p></p><p>The party takes cover beneath an oak tree, both from the sun and from the figure behind them. Soon enough, the warforged overtakes them. They step out to hail it.</p><p></p><p>“Hey there, what are you doing way out here?” calls Iggy.</p><p></p><p>The figure stops and surveys them. It looks slightly different from the majority of the warforged that the party freed from the Cathedral of War just before the siege of Fandelose started, as if it were a slightly different model. “Hey there,” it says. “I’m on a mission, but hey, I can’t share the details. Gotta keep moving, very important, don’t want to miss it, hey!”</p><p></p><p>“What is your name?” asks Vann-La. “Do you work for NC17?”</p><p></p><p>“Sure, not exactly, kind of doing my own thing, hey! Not to worry, not to worry, we’re on the same side, but listen, I gotta go. Oh, I’m 240Z, but it doesn’t really matter at the moment, gotta go! The sooner the better, hey hey!”</p><p></p><p>“Here,” Torinn says, “take these.” The cleric of Lester hands the warforged his spectacles, with their darkened lenses. “Lester go with you.”</p><p></p><p>“Sure, gotta go,” 240Z replies, already starting to walk off at a brisk pace. </p><p></p><p>“What is that thing? Do you trust it?” asks Summer.</p><p></p><p>“Well, I don’t know about this particular one, but its <em>kind</em> are our allies,” Heimall muses.</p><p></p><p>“Oi, let him go. He is not interfering with us. Why should we interfere with him?”</p><p></p><p>“Let’s hope you’re right,” Hkatha murmurs as the strange warforged walks off into the brown grass, kicking up a trail of dust behind him.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Several days ahead on our heroes’ journey are a series of plateaus, Summer tells the others. She notes that they are artificial- according to her, there is no natural explanation for their presence. Heimall declares that they are probably the sites of a series of legendary fortifications and armories. “I wonder if anything useful is left up on them,” he muses.</p><p></p><p>“You know this area pretty well,” Torinn says to Summer. She just smiles in response.</p><p></p><p>The plains are empty of people, but over the next six days, the party sees many rabbits and groundhogs, several small herds of antelope, dozens of different species of birds and many others. They find the tracks of a herd of horses- unshod, notes Vann-La, and Summer assesses them as either feral or wild. </p><p></p><p>”If we want some, we could probably track them and hunt them down,” points out Shakgar. “But they probably couldn’t carry me anyway.”</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The dominant predators of the area are fierce, flightless birds with heavy, axe-like beaks. The larger specimens are known as terror birds. Inevitably, they come to poke their beaks at our heroes and see if these new forms on the plains are suitable prey.</p><p></p><p>They are not. </p><p></p><p>With devastating efficiency, our heroes put them down. “The meat is tough,” says Shakgar, “but edible.” Summer nods agreement.</p><p></p><p>“Oi, I can cook it until it is good and tender,” threatens Cook.</p><p></p><p>“Tell me again,” sighs Summer, “why you have a dwarf for a cook?”</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The sound of crickets playing their legs calls out the change from afternoon to evening. The first plateau looms ahead of the group. Vann-La’s keen eyes spy signs of life upon it. She concludes that whoever dwells atop it must go to great lengths to avoid being seen.</p><p></p><p>“It doesn’t sound like the Hand,” notes Torinn.</p><p></p><p>Heimall says, “More likely, it’s some survivors.”</p><p></p><p>With a shrug, Shakgar says, “Let’s go see.”</p><p></p><p>The group starts to ascend a narrow trail that switches back up the face of the plateau, but in short order Vann-La halts them. “There is something following us,” she says. </p><p></p><p>The group looks. A man-sized figure, dressed in archaic-looking full plate armor and wearing a greatsword across its back, is starting to climb the trail below them. “Let’s find a wider spot to stop, in case it comes to blows,” suggests Heimall. He gestures ahead. “Maybe at that landing up ahead.”</p><p></p><p>The party moves to the landing, which is built into a natural shelf along the plateau’s face, and turns to wait for the figure that is following them. It is making no effort at concealment, closing the distance openly. When it reaches them, it halts, studying them. </p><p></p><p>It appears to be a clockwork man of some sort, made of metal rather than flesh and blood. A patch bearing archaic Imperial insignia is fastened to each shoulder of his armor. “You are not to be here,” it says. Its voice is male, but mechanical. “Go.”</p><p></p><p>“Who are you?” demands Heimall.</p><p></p><p>The figure does not reply. It merely draws its sword. “Withdraw from the plateau,” it orders. “You are not cleared to be here.”</p><p></p><p>”We are on the business of General Argos, of the Imperial Army,” Torinn says. “I’m Major Torinn, of the Imperial Marines. We are commissioned officers-” </p><p></p><p>“This is your last warning,” the figure says. </p><p></p><p>“Who are you?” Vann-La asks again. “By what right are you barring our passage? Who do you work for? Put your sword away!”</p><p></p><p>The figure starts forward, and Vann-La hits it with a <em>tide of iron,</em> but it parries her blow. Iggy yelps, turning <em>invisible</em> even as he draws his pistol. </p><p></p><p>The sword-wielding mechanical figure moves with unbelievable grace, hitting Vann-La with a <em>devastating strike</em> and following up with another attack, but the Kree warrior manages to parry that one. Then it drops into a deadly stance that Vann-La recognizes all too well: it is a <em>rain of steel</em>.*</p><p></p><p>“Two can play at that game!” she cries, and enters her own <em>rain of steel</em>.</p><p></p><p>Seemingly from nowhere, a shuriken flies out and hits the figure in the knee. Cook emerges from hiding. “He’s not going nowhere!” the dwarf calls.</p><p></p><p>However, the figure doesn’t really <em>want</em> to go anywhere. It lays about itself with its sword, doing immense damage and stunning Vann-La with a <em>followup strike</em>. As it does so, a momentary vision of another face flickers across its visage as if superimposed.</p><p></p><p>Summer studies their attacker carefully. “This thing is supernatural!” she tells them. “It isn’t just a powerful mechanical warrior- I think that it is from another plane!”</p><p></p><p>Some of our heroes’ attacks deflect off the strange swordsman’s armor. Others he parries, deflecting them harmlessly and offering up <em>counterstrokes</em> that send their victims sprawling. Its <em>flawless katas</em> slice into Shakgar, Torinn and Vann-La, over and over again, and it keeps one of them stunned pretty much constantly (although which one it is varies from moment to moment). Even Iggy’s spells don’t seem to be able to hit it!</p><p></p><p>Iggy gasps. “Of course,” he says. “This thing- it must be a sword saint, from the cult of the Sword Emperor!” He raises his gun again. </p><p></p><p>“Your mastery of the blade is superb,” gasps Vann-La as she parries another of its blows and watches in disbelief as the blade springs away to swat one of Iggy’s bullets out of the air before it can hit. </p><p></p><p>A few of our heroes’ blows manage to sneak in; Torinn nails it with a <em>lance of faith</em>, Shakgar with a <em>stone bear rage,</em> Vann-La with a <em>flanking assault.</em> Cook keeps darting in and out of the shadows, throwing shuriken from hiding, and a few of Iggy’s spells do some damage despite missing. Finally, Vann-La manages to bloody it.</p><p></p><p>Unfortunately for our heroes, <em>they</em> are already nearly out of healing abilities, and the sword saint just keeps throwing more deadly attacks their way. But then Cook tricks it with a <em>bait and switch</em>, pulling it into a position where Shakgar and Torinn are flanking it. </p><p></p><p>Heimall cries out, “You must see that we will defeat you! Stop, throw down your weapon and we can talk things out!”</p><p></p><p>“Never,” the figure replies, the strange face flickering across it again. It is a human face, with plain features and shaggy brown hair. It is gone almost as soon as it appears. It begins to execute another <em>flawless kata,</em> but Heimall rams his glaive in with a <em>disruptive strike</em>, staggering the sword saint.** </p><p></p><p>The others attack with everything they have, but their blows turn from its armor again. It hacks into Shakgar’s side, bloodying the goliath, then stuns him with a <em>followup strike</em>. It raises its greatsword to finish him off-</p><p></p><p>And, suddenly, a shuriken hits it in the eye. </p><p></p><p>The sword saint topples to the ground with a crash like cymbals. </p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The top of the plateau does indeed have survivors on it. However, they are not as pleased to see the party as our heroes would have thought.</p><p></p><p>“We saw you fighting from up here,” cries one of the peasants. “All those explosions- don’t you realize that the Six-Fingered Hand can see them from miles away?” </p><p></p><p>Another of the refugees wails, “You have drawn them to us!”</p><p></p><p>The first speaker continues, “We have already seen one group headed our way. Probably about 20 strong. We have no weapons or armor, and only a few of us can fight at all. We came here to hide, not fight!”</p><p></p><p>“Oops,” mutters Ligir. </p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> Ornithopters!</p><p></p><p>*The sword saint was a solo with half normal solo hps and roughly double normal damage dice. So some of its attacks included: </p><p></p><p><strong>[Melee] Powerful Blow</strong> (standard; at will) <strong>Weapon:</strong> +22 vs. AC; 2d10+7 damage, and the target is marked until the end of its next turn.</p><p></p><p><strong>[Melee] Devastating Strike</strong> (standard; recharge 5 6) <strong>Weapon</strong>: +22 vs. AC; 8d8+7 damage. </p><p><strong>[Melee] Flawless Kata</strong> (standard; at will) <strong>Weapon</strong>: The sword saint makes up to four powerful blow attacks against different targets.</p><p></p><p><strong>[Melee] Followup Strike</strong> (minor; at will) <strong>Weapon</strong>: Only against a target that the sword saint has hit this turn. +20 vs. Fortitude; 4d8+7 damage and target is stunned until the end of its next turn. </p><p></p><p><strong>[Melee] Counterstrike</strong> (immediate interrupt; when targeted by a melee attack; at will) <strong>Weapon</strong>: The sword saint makes an attack on the triggering creature: +20 vs. Reflex; 2d10+7 damage, plus the target is either knocked prone or takes a -4 penalty on the triggering attack (sword saint’s choice).</p><p></p><p>**He has magic armor, umm can’t recall the name, that is basically spell storing armor for martial characters; Vann-La, being a multiclassed ranger, put <em>disruptive strike</em> in there for him. Heimall didn’t just hit here, he got a critical hit.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 5008028, member: 1210"] The heat of the summer day beats down on the party as they move along, footsore and weary. The afternoon is long and clear, bright with the overhead sun. “Look,” Vann-La says, pointing into the distance behind them. “Did you see that? Something is glinting in the distance- it could be someone in armor or something. It’s definitely metal, though.” “You have really sharp eyes,” Torinn comments, as nobody else caught a glimpse of it. The party proceeds, casting frequent backwards glances. Indeed, whatever the metal thing is, it seems to be drawing closer. “Do you have any better idea of what it is?” the dragonborn asks the Kree warrior. Squinting, she replies, “I think it’s a single figure in armor.” Then, she exclaims, “No- not in armor- it’s a warforged!” “Then it is probably an ally,” muses Heimall, “although they have been playing their cards pretty close to the vest, so to speak.” “We don’t even know what they have been up to, since the end of the siege,” Cook points out. “There’s one way to find out,” Ligir says. “Let’s wait and talk to it.” The party takes cover beneath an oak tree, both from the sun and from the figure behind them. Soon enough, the warforged overtakes them. They step out to hail it. “Hey there, what are you doing way out here?” calls Iggy. The figure stops and surveys them. It looks slightly different from the majority of the warforged that the party freed from the Cathedral of War just before the siege of Fandelose started, as if it were a slightly different model. “Hey there,” it says. “I’m on a mission, but hey, I can’t share the details. Gotta keep moving, very important, don’t want to miss it, hey!” “What is your name?” asks Vann-La. “Do you work for NC17?” “Sure, not exactly, kind of doing my own thing, hey! Not to worry, not to worry, we’re on the same side, but listen, I gotta go. Oh, I’m 240Z, but it doesn’t really matter at the moment, gotta go! The sooner the better, hey hey!” “Here,” Torinn says, “take these.” The cleric of Lester hands the warforged his spectacles, with their darkened lenses. “Lester go with you.” “Sure, gotta go,” 240Z replies, already starting to walk off at a brisk pace. “What is that thing? Do you trust it?” asks Summer. “Well, I don’t know about this particular one, but its [i]kind[/i] are our allies,” Heimall muses. “Oi, let him go. He is not interfering with us. Why should we interfere with him?” “Let’s hope you’re right,” Hkatha murmurs as the strange warforged walks off into the brown grass, kicking up a trail of dust behind him. *** Several days ahead on our heroes’ journey are a series of plateaus, Summer tells the others. She notes that they are artificial- according to her, there is no natural explanation for their presence. Heimall declares that they are probably the sites of a series of legendary fortifications and armories. “I wonder if anything useful is left up on them,” he muses. “You know this area pretty well,” Torinn says to Summer. She just smiles in response. The plains are empty of people, but over the next six days, the party sees many rabbits and groundhogs, several small herds of antelope, dozens of different species of birds and many others. They find the tracks of a herd of horses- unshod, notes Vann-La, and Summer assesses them as either feral or wild. ”If we want some, we could probably track them and hunt them down,” points out Shakgar. “But they probably couldn’t carry me anyway.” *** The dominant predators of the area are fierce, flightless birds with heavy, axe-like beaks. The larger specimens are known as terror birds. Inevitably, they come to poke their beaks at our heroes and see if these new forms on the plains are suitable prey. They are not. With devastating efficiency, our heroes put them down. “The meat is tough,” says Shakgar, “but edible.” Summer nods agreement. “Oi, I can cook it until it is good and tender,” threatens Cook. “Tell me again,” sighs Summer, “why you have a dwarf for a cook?” *** The sound of crickets playing their legs calls out the change from afternoon to evening. The first plateau looms ahead of the group. Vann-La’s keen eyes spy signs of life upon it. She concludes that whoever dwells atop it must go to great lengths to avoid being seen. “It doesn’t sound like the Hand,” notes Torinn. Heimall says, “More likely, it’s some survivors.” With a shrug, Shakgar says, “Let’s go see.” The group starts to ascend a narrow trail that switches back up the face of the plateau, but in short order Vann-La halts them. “There is something following us,” she says. The group looks. A man-sized figure, dressed in archaic-looking full plate armor and wearing a greatsword across its back, is starting to climb the trail below them. “Let’s find a wider spot to stop, in case it comes to blows,” suggests Heimall. He gestures ahead. “Maybe at that landing up ahead.” The party moves to the landing, which is built into a natural shelf along the plateau’s face, and turns to wait for the figure that is following them. It is making no effort at concealment, closing the distance openly. When it reaches them, it halts, studying them. It appears to be a clockwork man of some sort, made of metal rather than flesh and blood. A patch bearing archaic Imperial insignia is fastened to each shoulder of his armor. “You are not to be here,” it says. Its voice is male, but mechanical. “Go.” “Who are you?” demands Heimall. The figure does not reply. It merely draws its sword. “Withdraw from the plateau,” it orders. “You are not cleared to be here.” ”We are on the business of General Argos, of the Imperial Army,” Torinn says. “I’m Major Torinn, of the Imperial Marines. We are commissioned officers-” “This is your last warning,” the figure says. “Who are you?” Vann-La asks again. “By what right are you barring our passage? Who do you work for? Put your sword away!” The figure starts forward, and Vann-La hits it with a [i]tide of iron,[/i] but it parries her blow. Iggy yelps, turning [i]invisible[/i] even as he draws his pistol. The sword-wielding mechanical figure moves with unbelievable grace, hitting Vann-La with a [i]devastating strike[/i] and following up with another attack, but the Kree warrior manages to parry that one. Then it drops into a deadly stance that Vann-La recognizes all too well: it is a [i]rain of steel[/i].* “Two can play at that game!” she cries, and enters her own [i]rain of steel[/i]. Seemingly from nowhere, a shuriken flies out and hits the figure in the knee. Cook emerges from hiding. “He’s not going nowhere!” the dwarf calls. However, the figure doesn’t really [i]want[/i] to go anywhere. It lays about itself with its sword, doing immense damage and stunning Vann-La with a [i]followup strike[/i]. As it does so, a momentary vision of another face flickers across its visage as if superimposed. Summer studies their attacker carefully. “This thing is supernatural!” she tells them. “It isn’t just a powerful mechanical warrior- I think that it is from another plane!” Some of our heroes’ attacks deflect off the strange swordsman’s armor. Others he parries, deflecting them harmlessly and offering up [i]counterstrokes[/i] that send their victims sprawling. Its [i]flawless katas[/i] slice into Shakgar, Torinn and Vann-La, over and over again, and it keeps one of them stunned pretty much constantly (although which one it is varies from moment to moment). Even Iggy’s spells don’t seem to be able to hit it! Iggy gasps. “Of course,” he says. “This thing- it must be a sword saint, from the cult of the Sword Emperor!” He raises his gun again. “Your mastery of the blade is superb,” gasps Vann-La as she parries another of its blows and watches in disbelief as the blade springs away to swat one of Iggy’s bullets out of the air before it can hit. A few of our heroes’ blows manage to sneak in; Torinn nails it with a [i]lance of faith[/i], Shakgar with a [i]stone bear rage,[/i] Vann-La with a [i]flanking assault.[/i] Cook keeps darting in and out of the shadows, throwing shuriken from hiding, and a few of Iggy’s spells do some damage despite missing. Finally, Vann-La manages to bloody it. Unfortunately for our heroes, [i]they[/i] are already nearly out of healing abilities, and the sword saint just keeps throwing more deadly attacks their way. But then Cook tricks it with a [i]bait and switch[/i], pulling it into a position where Shakgar and Torinn are flanking it. Heimall cries out, “You must see that we will defeat you! Stop, throw down your weapon and we can talk things out!” “Never,” the figure replies, the strange face flickering across it again. It is a human face, with plain features and shaggy brown hair. It is gone almost as soon as it appears. It begins to execute another [i]flawless kata,[/i] but Heimall rams his glaive in with a [i]disruptive strike[/i], staggering the sword saint.** The others attack with everything they have, but their blows turn from its armor again. It hacks into Shakgar’s side, bloodying the goliath, then stuns him with a [i]followup strike[/i]. It raises its greatsword to finish him off- And, suddenly, a shuriken hits it in the eye. The sword saint topples to the ground with a crash like cymbals. *** The top of the plateau does indeed have survivors on it. However, they are not as pleased to see the party as our heroes would have thought. “We saw you fighting from up here,” cries one of the peasants. “All those explosions- don’t you realize that the Six-Fingered Hand can see them from miles away?” Another of the refugees wails, “You have drawn them to us!” The first speaker continues, “We have already seen one group headed our way. Probably about 20 strong. We have no weapons or armor, and only a few of us can fight at all. We came here to hide, not fight!” “Oops,” mutters Ligir. [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i] Ornithopters! *The sword saint was a solo with half normal solo hps and roughly double normal damage dice. So some of its attacks included: [b][Melee] Powerful Blow[/b] (standard; at will) [b]Weapon:[/b] +22 vs. AC; 2d10+7 damage, and the target is marked until the end of its next turn. [b][Melee] Devastating Strike[/b] (standard; recharge 5 6) [b]Weapon[/b]: +22 vs. AC; 8d8+7 damage. [b][Melee] Flawless Kata[/b] (standard; at will) [b]Weapon[/b]: The sword saint makes up to four powerful blow attacks against different targets. [b][Melee] Followup Strike[/b] (minor; at will) [b]Weapon[/b]: Only against a target that the sword saint has hit this turn. +20 vs. Fortitude; 4d8+7 damage and target is stunned until the end of its next turn. [b][Melee] Counterstrike[/b] (immediate interrupt; when targeted by a melee attack; at will) [b]Weapon[/b]: The sword saint makes an attack on the triggering creature: +20 vs. Reflex; 2d10+7 damage, plus the target is either knocked prone or takes a -4 penalty on the triggering attack (sword saint’s choice). **He has magic armor, umm can’t recall the name, that is basically spell storing armor for martial characters; Vann-La, being a multiclassed ranger, put [i]disruptive strike[/i] in there for him. Heimall didn’t just hit here, he got a critical hit. [/QUOTE]
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