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

[Manbearcat]

The satyr warlock leads you through the nearly opaque fog to a pole and bough lean-to. Next to it is the structure he is working on; a partially constructed log cabin with a heavily pitched, thatched roof. Runes are carved into every timber. Foundationless, it rests on temporary stilts. Nearby, a pair of impossibly large, disembodied chicken legs stand motionless.

Stoppered potions. Bundles of varying alchemical reagents. A dormant firepit. A small black kettle hanging from a spit. A simple bedroll and foodstuffs.

He grasps a mortar and pestle, retrieves varying components and goes to work. Once finished, he pours the powdered mash from the iron receptacle into one hand. In the other he takes up the necklace Saerie provided him. He holds both skyward. As the granules sift through his fingers, he begins an incomprehensible chant of ancient arcane power.

The answer is cold. With it comes pervasive, overwhelming despair. It spreads like the fog, only an emotional one...and more weighty.

Whispers. So quiet. A wail so sorrowful, so filled with despair that it bleeds into your heart. They gather and crescendo with suddenness. A malevolent shriek cuts the air. All malice. It carries physical power along with its mental assault. The lean-to explodes under the force of it and loose items are shunted everywhere accompanied by various sounds of clanging and breaking.

A pair of silhouettes manifest from the epicenter, flurries of snow somewhat masking their spectral nature. So very faintly can you make out the nearly lost features of a pair of lovely eladrin females, orbs peering at you with a collage of twisted, negative emotions.

Farmer Barnum, a powerful warlock, is reduced to tears and terror...a grovelling goat-man in the fetal position.

[sblock]Both of you need to Defy Danger (Wis) and lets see where this goes. The figures are at Reach range in the center of the debris field of the obliterated lean-to.[/sblock]

 

[Tecklenburg]

I'm not certain something is wrong when the cold pall settles over us. Nonetheless, my hand instinctively goes to the hilt of my sword. Half-drawn, the pale blue it was shedding due to the heat becomes increasingly indigo as the dropping temperature begins to bite at our flesh.

When the whispers begin, I'm certain something is amiss. I watch the consternation on the warlock's face as the perfectly honed, curved edge of the wintry blade is immediately exposed and out before me. My body is supply like a cat, but poised for strike or defense.

When the mental assault comes, the steel of my nerve is tested rather than that of my weapon-play.

[sblock]Defy Danger (Wis)
3, 5 +0 = 8

Success but a worse outcome, hard bargain, or ugly choice.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
Having dealt with the supernatural intrusions of the most powerful creatures the Far Realm has to offer, your will is easily the match of the siren call to despair.

However, the effort to battle it requires concentration. Concentration that allows one of the wraith-like figures to launch another attack at the both of you. Shrouded arms raise ominously, and a pair of weighty chains explode from the pitch black; one toward Saerie...one toward you. Unlike the insubstantial nature of the silhouette-figure that launches them, these appear to possess more solidity.

Given her small increase in distance, you're certain that you could parry the one threatening Saerie. However, if you do so, the other's links would be wrapped around you before you could react.

[sblock]You can auto-stop the effect on Saerie, but face the brunt of the effect on yourself. Conversely, you could leave you both to defying the danger.[/sblock]

Meanwhile, the second apparition seems transfixed with the increasingly catatonic warlock curled up on the ground. As he slobbers on himself, he clutches the necklace that Saerie gave him in the unconscious grip of a titan. "She" floats toward him with a ghostly hand outstretched toward him, a torn look on her incorporeal "face."

My senses take all of it in in the blink of an eye. My instincts to protect take over as my regard for myself sinks into the depths of my priorities. My brandished blade flashes in an arc to intercept the chains heading for Saerie. A twist of my wrist, a flip of my hips and they're jerked from the air and to the ground, momentum completely stolen.

Knowing I'm about to accept the hateful caress of the other chain, rather than tense, I try to loosen my body as best as I can.

Per Manbearcat
[sblock](b[2d10+2] damage 2 piercing) and Forceful tag.[/sblock]

As the chains bind you, you can feel the transference of torment to you and the draw of life from you. A violent yank pulls you from your feet and onto your back. Both arms pinned to your body, you slowly slide on the peat bed toward the coldness of the specter.

[sblock](b[2d10+2] damage 2 piercing)

2, 7. 7 + 2 = 9. 9 - 2 (4 armor - 2 piercing) = 7 damage to me.[/sblock]

Moonstride is probably a contingency spell that doesn't require elaborate gestures. Maybe I can cast it in such a situation?

Per Manbearcat
That would make sense. Let's say you can do it under the circumstances, but you take -1.

But hold tight on that. Need to move Saerie along.

 

[Binks]

The cold. The pitiful moan. Its all familiar to me.

[sblock]Defy Danger (Wis)
5, 5 +3 = 13[/sblock]

The call to despair barely registers. But I know malice when I hear it. These eladrin phantoms mean to bring us to a terrible end.

I watch my valiant companion parry the chains intended for me but my mind is elsewhere.

"Muffy." Barnum's beast is either a huge fey constrictor or a croc. My senses when we first came into this place took in the subtleties of its movements in the mire and nature of its fog-shrouded girth. Muffy must be a croc. I reach into the magic imbued within me at the graduation of my ranger training and call to the beast in its tongue. Its master is in danger and in need of its aid.

[sblock]I want to use one of my take +1 from DR earlier and use some animal empathy mojo to call Muffy into battle.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
Alright, lets find out of Muffy is a croc or not, if you can call her to your side, and how she feels about you.

[sblock]Roll +Wis. 10+ and here comes Muffy (the Feymire Croc) to your aid. 7-9 and here comes Muffy (the Feymire Croc) but you are neither friend nor foe...but you might be "in the way." 6-, here comes...something...with bad intentions.[/sblock]

[sblock]Call Muffy (Wis)
1, 4 +3 (take +1) = 9

Here comes Muffy (the Feymire Croc) but you are neither friend nor foe...but you might be "in the way."[/sblock]

per Manbearcat
The explosive, sucking sound of something monstrously huge moving rapidly through the murk. The resilient peat bed trembles beneath your feat.

A muzzle the size and girth of one of the recently slaughtered Wooly Pigs emerges from the peeled-back mist. It sways this way and that. Scanning.

The spectral form haunting the air above the prostrate Farmer Barnum reaches for the his hand which grasps the necklace you gave him. In elven, it whispers in a melancholy, longing inflection. "Sister..."

A flash of teleportation magic later and the ungodly large form of the crocodile explodes into the phantom. The two of them smash through the debris field of the lean-to and are swallowed by the mists.

In the midst of the chaos, the beast's muscular tail whips wide with the effort, threatening to take you square in the chest.

I breathe..."sister?..."

No time to contemplate it, my body acts on instinct to prevent my death by collateral damage. I feel myself diving under the oncoming tail. At the same time my brain kicks in and I'm envisioning coming up in a roll and launching an arrow at the phantom that has Otthor in its chains!

[sblock]Defy Danger (Dex)
3, 3 +3 = 9

Success but a worse outcome, hard bargain, or ugly choice.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
A near miss...on your body. Your dive and roll is perfectly executed. However, you come up empty-handed. The thick scaly tail slams into the top portion of your bow, the force of it sending your weapon spinning end over end out of your stinging hands. No splash-down, it comes to rest somewhere on the peat-bed well outside of the range of your visibility.

Sit tight while I move Otthor along.

 

[Tecklenburg]

The wind is knocked out of me as I'm abruptly forced onto my back. As the chains wrench my heart and press in on the fine armor protecting my torso, I work to get the necessary air into my lungs to speak the complex arcane tongue that powers my spells.

[sblock]Cast a Spell (Int) Moonstride
2, 4 +3 = 9

I pass through a physical object.

After it is cast, the spell is forgotten. You cannot cast the spell again until you prepare spells.[/sblock]

I become like a wraith myself for a moment, intangible, and the chains that bind me pass through my form as if I wasn't there. I explode to my feet and rush the specter, running on the chains she just used against me.

Do I need to DD to get in Close range? If not, I'm closing to melee to unleash sword and spell.

Per Manbearcat

You don't.

However...

You rush up the chains (I guess I'm imagining Legolas in FotR here against the Cave Troll) and close to melee with the shadowy silhouette of a figure. As you draw near, you immediately understand how a powerful warlock could effectively be rendered an infant.

The shadowy face of the female eladrin is a visage of sheer torment...torment she shares with you. A crushing weight of hopelessness, sadness, and a dozen more complex emotions washes over you. Or perhaps it slams into you. Its so palpable it feels physical.

[sblock]You take-1 for any move in Reach range of her. If you get a 6-, you're stunned and will have to DD (Con). 7-9 on that and you're taking damage...6- and you're taking your Last Breath. Physical damage against them is the worst of two dice.

This counter is d10 psychic damage - ignores armor.[/sblock]

I push through the sorrow welling up inside me. I will not be overcome by it...

[sblock]Master's Bladework (Int)
5, 4 +3 (take -1) = 11

Deal your damage and apply 3 techniques. w[d8]. 7, 2 = 2 damage.

Burst * 1: 1d4 force/thunder damage and forceful tag. 2 damage.

Soul Siphoning * 2: Your attack heals you for 1d4. 3 + 2 = 5 HP returned.

Bladesong (Int)
1, 4 +3 (take -1) = 7

1 Bladesong for:

* Void Note - Teleport somewhere nearby within your line of sight.
* Guarded Flourish - When you have no weapon or shield in your offhand and you take damage, take + 2 armor.
* Blade Crescendo - When you deal damage to an enemy within your melee weapon's range, gain 2 piercing.[/sblock]

Despite the emotional weight of being near this terrible creature, I'm a torrent of steel and spell. I fall into the rhythmic ebb and flow of The Bladesong as my magic reinvigorates my emotions. Fairly certain that the satyr warlock will soon be slain by this creature's horrific aura, I grasp the strands of magic that surrounds all things and forcefully fling the creature away from myself and Farmer Barnum.

Whether he is roused after being away from the creature or not, I grasp him under the armpit. If I must, I'll forcibly drag him away from the malevolent spirit if he is not capable.

Per Manbearcat
The shadow floats violently backward at the prompting of your magic. The satyr's quivering lip stops. His catatonic eyes clear. His infantile posture unwinds. When you grasp him, he looks at you with shock, protesting for the briefest of moments. That moment passes, however, and he hobble-crawls as best as he can as you drag him away.

In the process, he leaves the necklace behind on the torn surface of the peat bed.

This spectral figure, like the other, suddenly becomes transfixed on it. Cloaked arms reach out longingly as it floats toward it.

Bink's turn.

 

[Binks]

Covenant of Winter splooshed in the swamp. My bow lost in the fog somewhere. Down to my elven short sword and long knife, I draw them both. However, I'm going to reluctantly stall to see what this creature does once it has its hands on my necklace. I call to Otthor as he pulls the struggling warlock away from the ghostly figure's wilting presence. "Hold." I watch.

Per Manbearcat
The shadowy dress hangs in tatters. No feet carry it or the creature within to the necklace. As it draws near, the darkness begins to give way. The cold supplanted by a mild chill. Its insubstantial hands grasp it. Gloomy features clarify to momentary radiance. A stunningly beautiful, youthful eladrin maiden holds the necklace to her chest as her head falls back as if taking in sunlight for the first time in an age.

The insubstantial form "melts" from your sight, carrying the necklace with it.

The sound of struggle ceases from beyond your sight and Muffy, the massive Feymire Crocodile, ambles out of the fog and toward her master. He lets go of Otthor, falls to his knees before the creature and strokes her reptilian head.

"The Sisters of Lament. The deathly heralds of the Prince of Frost. Locked in eternal suffering for the actions and loss of their sister who is adrift on the river of time. Made immortal through their hatred, pain, and the Pale Prince's cultivation of it."

He looks around at the destruction of his workshop with a slow shaking of his horned head.

"These are powerful enemies you have made. I will have no part in it. You have been nothing but a blight upon me. Be gone from my sight."

Muffy senses his unease and "honks" menacingly while baring her teeth. He looks back at his strangely named familiar and continues his patting.

I look to Otthor. "I think we have what we came for, yes? Let us go."

If he agrees, I'll spend the time to fetch my bow from the bank of fog that it disappeared into. I'll then ask Otthor to aid me in wading through the reed swamp for the Winter Fey artifact. The glow of his blue blade under the water should do nicely in helping locate the staff. Or maybe a Light spell? Perhaps it would remove the take -1?

[sblock]From earlier:

When you search for Covenant of Winter in the Murkendraw reed swamp, roll +Wis. On a 10+, you find her! On a 7-9, you find her but you also find something that you wish you hadn't!

5, 3 + 3 (take -1...or not!) = 10 or 11. Either way.[/sblock]

Once finished, we'll grab the rope, give it a tug and give a final long stare as we're hauled through the dimensional rift.

Per Manbearcat
I'll let Otthor have his input and move things forward pending that.

 

[Tecklenburg]

I look to Otthor. "I think we have what we came for, yes? Let us go."

I stare down at the oddity of the satyr warlock-as-carpenter affectionately petting his gigantic croc-as-pet. "Yes. Coin well spent."

When Saerie turns to go I follow her away.

If he agrees, I'll spend the time to fetch my bow from the bank of fog that it disappeared into. I'll then ask Otthor to aid me in wading through the reed swamp for the Winter Fey artifact. The glow of his blue blade under the water should do nicely in helping locate the staff. Or maybe a Light spell? Perhaps it would remove the take -1?

The blue light of the enchanted blade should suffice here. I wade through the swamp with her, blade below the surface, until we finally come upon the lost staff.

Once finished, we'll grab the rope, give it a tug and give a final long stare as we're hauled through the dimensional rift.

On our way up, I simply say "locked in eternal suffering for the actions and loss of their sister who is adrift on the river of time. That is what the warlock said. Sadia's shadowy figures lost in the wintry storm of her dreams. You and I can discuss this on our journey to Shinaelestra but let us spare the child for the time being."

Hand over hand we pull ourselves over the stone wall and emerge back at the farm. The sudden change in gravity is still disorienting, but I manage to pat my student and fellow outcast on the shoulder as he catches his breath from the effort of anchoring the rope and pulling us out.

"You did well. I was certain that you would protest."

I grasp Saerie's forearm and help her over the top. "Discipline is our greatest ally. We all must suffer the distractions of this crude mortal shell. But we get to decide if it will prevent us from harnessing our best self. Or surrendering to the Bladesong's call...should it call you."

I'm sure that Saerie will Scout Ahead and I'll Navigate as we Undertake a Perilous Journey to Shinaelestra. As we go through our packs to make sure our supplies are in order for the trek, I'm considering the best route and the possible resources along the way.

[sblock]Spout Lore (Int)
5, 3 +3 = 11

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

I'll go ahead and take care of this.[/sblock]

"An old friend is a ferryman on The Fading River. He tired of war and chose a simpler life. He will see us through the second leg of our journey for a better than fair price."

Here is the course I will chart.



[sblock]Undertake a Perilous Journey

Navigate
When you plot the best course through dangerous or unfamiliar lands, roll +INT
3, 3 +3 = 9

GM chooses 1 from the list below:

* You happen upon a Discovery missed by the scout.

* The going is slow, or you wander off course. The GM says which, and where you end up on the map.

* You encounter a Danger; whether or not you’re surprised depends on whether the scout has the drop on it.[/sblock]

Sadia will stay with me. I will tell Leonel to join Saerie in scouting ahead. I will instruct him to observe the way she moves. Her combination of balance, posture, and instincts, feet being one with the terrain rather than fighting it, is the perfect incarnation of the Form of the Leopard. I want him to show me what he learned when we make camp.

 

[Binks]

On our way up, I simply say "locked in eternal suffering for the actions and loss of their sister who is adrift on the river of time. That is what the warlock said. Sadia's shadowy figures lost in the wintry storm of her dreams. You and I can discuss this on our journey to Shinaelestra but let us spare the child for the time being."

And then later while we're preparing for our journey:

"An old friend is a ferryman on The Fading River. He tired of war and chose a simpler life. He will see us through the second leg of our journey for a better than fair price."

"You and I can discuss matters privately while on the ferry. Once safely within Shinaelestra, we can speak to Sadia about it. We can discuss it the morning after rest so she will be fresh mentally. It will be a lot to take in."

I'm sure that Saerie will Scout Ahead and I'll Navigate as we Undertake a Perilous Journey to Shinaelestra. As we go through our packs to make sure our supplies are in order for the trek, I'm considering the best route and the possible resources along the way.

Sadia will stay with me. I will tell Leonel to join Saerie in scouting ahead. I will instruct him to observe the way she moves. Her combination of balance, posture, and instincts, feet being one with the terrain rather than fighting it, is the perfect incarnation of the Form of the Leopard. I want him to show me what he learned when we make camp.

Correct. I will be scouting ahead while you navigate.

Also, the land north of Senaliesse would definitely be a land of plenty. We'd be moving into a river valley bisecting the lands of Mithrendain to the west and Shinaelestra to the northeast. It would be a thriving and wild ecosystem filled with all manner of predator and prey. My Dire Wolf and Rawr should be able to Forage as we move. My wolf has the Organized and Self-Sufficient tags and all the hunting and tracking moves. Perhaps the two of them can work together to sustain themselves along the way so they don't have to eat into our rations? Maybe take +1 to Forage for Rawr's abilities and the wolf's Organized tag?

[sblock]Undertake a Perilous Journey
Scout Ahead

Elven Ranger: Automatic 10+ to Scout Ahead.

Choose 2:

* You discern a beneficial aspect of the terrain—shortcut, shelter, or tactical advantage (describe it).

* You get the drop on whatever lies ahead.

Dire Wolf and Rawr - Forage (Quality)
When you spend a day seeking food in the wild, and your surroundings are not Barren, roll +QUA:
2, 4 +1 (whether I get take +1 for Rawr doesn't matter) = 7

7-9: As 10+ (You gain 1d4 rations, +1d4 rations if you have the knowledge and gear needed to trap or hunt), but first face a Discovery or Danger of the GM’s choice. 2, 4 = 6.

Each of them are large, so they'd need 2 rations apiece. Their hunt would satiate them for the day.[/sblock]

Halfway there I locate a familiar marker and point it out to Otthor's Bladeward. A large stone has a subtle carving of a tower in a circle on a bluff overlooking a lowland river valley. "Do you see this?" After the boy takes in the marking and confirms what he sees, I point off into the distance at the rising land. "Does that look familiar? Though you cannot see it, at the top of that rise lies an invisible tower. Outside of the Summer Queen's realm, the sun rises and falls and the moon takes its place. When the moon is at its zenith, the tower will be revealed to us. The structure is long since ruined as the Mithrendain builders who constructed it had to abandon it. But the magic persists. We will camp there tonight."

Lucky rubs up against me with a tail-wag. I pat my spirit dog on the head and smile. I quickly signal to Otthor, a ways behind us, with a glint of fading sunlight off of the blade of my knife. "Let us go", and the boy follows me toward the distant rise.

 

[Manbearcat]

[sblock]You guys have a pair of soft moves incoming due to your Forage and Navigate moves. Let us introduce them one at a time so we can handle chronologically.[/sblock]

Rolling hills with a stray copse of trees dotting the meadows lazily gives way to vast fields of long, red Songweed. As the day wears down the sun until he begins to set, the wind playing through the bulbs at the top of the waist-high grass fills the burgeoning evening with the beautiful organization of varying chimes.

The hypnotic sound is perfect to mask the predator's skulk. Legend has it that the red grass derives its hue from drinking of the blood of the countless prey in these killing fields. Today is no exception.

After a few mishaps and false starts, the great grizzly and the dire wolf finally work in concert to funnel a pair of loafing, meaty members of a Bandlerwug herd to their violent demise. The rest of the herd of fat, furry herbivores scatter.

The eladrin boy never strays far from your hip Saerie, but he is transfixed by the dance of the hunt and the furious feasting afterward. While he watches, you spot something moving rapidly in the long grass from the north toward your animals' buffet. No doubt the smell of blood is thick in the air. You quickly are able to make out that the grass isn't just parting for the movement of one creature, but rather six. Six lines cutting at great speed, bearing down on the unwitting, gorging Rawr and Dire Wolf. The fading light of the sun catches their forms in a bending of light. But they are not revealed...

You and Leonel are on top of a ridge looking down upon this. You are to the North of Otthor and Sadia (Far), to the East of the 6 creatures and your beasts (Far). Your beasts and whatever is rushing them are at Near range relative to each other.

 

[Binks]

The eladrin boy never strays far from your hip Saerie, but he is transfixed by the dance of the hunt and the furious feasting afterward. While he watches, you spot something moving rapidly in the long grass from the north toward your animals' buffet. No doubt the smell of blood is thick in the air. You quickly are able to make out that the grass isn't just parting for the movement of one creature, but rather six. Six lines cutting at great speed, bearing down on the unwitting, gorging Rawr and Dire Wolf. The fading light of the sun catches their forms in a bending of light. But they are not revealed...

You and Leonel are on top of a ridge looking down upon this. You are to the North of Otthor and Sadia (Far), to the East of the 6 creatures and your beasts (Far). Your beasts and whatever is rushing them are at Near range relative to each other.

Given that I have the drop on them, can I alert Rawr and my Dire Wolf and make a move as well?

Per Manbearcat
Yeah, but they'll take -1 to Do Their Thing unless you can buy them some time to recover. They're pretty preoccupied with their gorging.

The lead edge of the 6-pronged attack is bearing down on them and will be upon them without some kind of intervention.

[sblock]Due to their invisibility, you're going to take -1 when attacking them. Further, at range, the best you can get is a 7-9.[/sblock]

I hone in on the disturbed long grass up front.

Six of them. They appear to have some kind of Predator-like power of invisibility. What are they? Pack hunters? Are the trailing ones circling to flank? Would that front one be the alpha?

[sblock]Discern Realities (Wis)
2, 2 +3 = 7

1 question and take +1 forward when acting on it.

* What is about to happen?[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
A diamond of discrete creatures parts the red long grass at extremely high speed. As the four members of the pack converge on the position of your two beasts, the rear pair circle right and left to flank.

Classic wolf-pack tactics by highly intelligent predators.

With cover from the ridge-line, I draw, load, aim for what I believe to be the head of the leader up front, and release.

[sblock]Called Shot (Dex)
4, 6 +3 (take -1 for invisibility and +1 forward from DR) = 13

7-9 is the best I can get so:

Head
✴ 7-9: They do nothing but stand and drool for a few moments.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
The lead creature staggers with the dull thud of your arrow cracking into its thick skull behind the jaw. It fills the air with a strange, aggressive trill as the other three members of the pack quickly bunch up on the creature.

Rawr and your Dire Wolf are immediately alerted and their hulking masses both pop up out of their feasting positions in the red meadow.

Rawr sniffs the air, the scent of the hunting pack thick in the air. He rears and growls with ursine fury! The massive grizzly then charges the source of the trill and the scent like a runaway horse-drawn wagon!

The dire wolf, a bit unsure of things at this point, lopes behind him.

[sblock]Do Their Thing (Quality)
Rawr's Trample move
1, 6 +2 (take -1 for invisibility) = 8

7-9 They do it, but there’s an unforeseen cost, consequence, or limitation (ask the GM what).[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
[sblock]You can roll Rawr's damage and apply that and his Forceful and Messy tags to all 4 of the bunched up predators. However, he is going to eat a counterattack of the three that aren't stunned:

Teeth & Claws (b[2d8+2 for the extra ones] damage)[/sblock]

[sblock]Rawr 1d8 +1 (Forceful, Messy). 3 +1 (-1 armor) = 3 damage to each.

Counterattack (b[2d8+2] damage). 5, 5 +2 (-1 armor) = 6 damage to Rawr.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
The ground shakes violently. 600 lbs of terror moves like a crimson wave of death as the long grass bends forward with the assault.

The lead creature suffers the sound of cracking bones and is smashed into the earth.

One of the next three has its head stomped on and smashed like a grapefruit (dead from Messy).

Of the last two, one loses an eye while the other has its shoulder socket mangled, rendering an arm useless.

The trailing three are all flung hard to their backs, but they all are able to leap onto Rawr momentarily and deliver a nasty payload of claws before its done.

The amazingly athletic Fey Raptors are back on their feet almost instantaneously, circling and feinting with fang-filled mouths despite their gruesome injuries. Their leader tries to pull itself to its feet but can't due to a ruined hip. It would likely give the call to retreat after such a costly exchange. However, given the circumstances, it gives a command that you can easily understand. "Attack!"

Wanting no part of the deathly promise of the grizzly bear, the other two circling raptors charge your dire wolf.

Sit tight while Otthor and his Bladeward go.

 

[Tecklenburg]

When he sees the proud bear under siege, Leonel snaps into action. Without any provocation, he calls upon the magic inherent to his race.

[sblock]Bamf (limited-use, near-range teleport)

Aegis of Shielding (Defend Near range w/ +Quality)
5, 2 +1 = 8

Hold 1 for:

Halve the attack’s effect or damage.[/sblock]

He disappears in a flash of teleportation magic and reappears in the red fields below, cutting the distance between Rawr and himself in half (from Far to Near). As the raptor pack closes in for the kill, the young eladrin's blade whirls before him producing a protective web of warding magic around the enraged grizzly bear.

I smile at his courage and instinctive willingness to protect an ally. I knew I made the right choice.

Seeing the melee unfold from a fair distance away, my left arm instinctively feels for Sadia behind me. When I confirm her presence, I say "stay behind me." My free hand works an arcane gesture while my mouth utters a command word.

[sblock]Cast a Spell (Int)
Magic Missile on the lead raptor
4, 5 + 3 = 12

Projectiles of pure magic spring from your fingers. Deal 2d4 damage to one target. 3, 3 = 6 damage. No armor applies. Dead.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
The silvery projectile flies across the battlefield with alacrity and purpose. When it strikes the grievously wounded raptor alpha in the side of the head, the decisive wound leaves little to the imagination. As the creature flops on the ground in its death throes, the bloodied, newly demoralized pack hesitates.

However, the oblivious two intercepting the Dire Wolf converge! Clearly used to having the numbers and edge in ferocity on his side, the large lupine cringes at the prospects of having to engage with these two dangerous predators without any backup of his own!

[sblock]Saerie can go ahead and make a move.

If you want your Dire Wolf to engage with these two raptors, you're going to have to Order Followers! If something doesn't happen quickly, he is going to take their damage +1![/sblock]