log in or register to remove this ad

 

Dread Marches in Sion - Act 1: Scene 1

narayan

Explorer


________________Act 1
: Scene 1________________

Continent of Mgorongoro:
Commonwealth of Athenea

Year 3500 - Mid Spring
< We are using DMS 11 on rolz.org... ​>

____________________________________________________________________________________________________



From a low vantage point within a copse of fever trees Shelladda Jianjo surveys remains of a horrible slaughter. Carcasses and corpses of men and bison spread out across a half-mile of meadow covered in clouds of flies and wakes of vultures. Her jaw clenches in rage, her eyes wet with tears. Already scavengers had come... jackals, hyenas, lions... eager to feast and redden their muzzles; but this was not her concern. Nature had its way and everything had to eat.

What bothered her was the awful manner of the killing. Seeing it for the first time almost made her vomit. ~Such a waste!~ Shelladda thought as she swallowed back her bile. Of course it had to be Gnolls, the most ancient and hated enemies of the native Mgorongoron tribes.

Her people were the first to herd wild cattle through these grazing lands over three thousand years ago, profiting off their meat and hides by domestication. These shepherds and warriors put up a valiant fight, but the odds were decidedly not in their favor as not a single fallen Gnoll lay among them.

Shelladda recognized the style of garments, piercings and colorful beads on some of the nearer corpses. These men belonged to the Omoro tribe, one of the largest and most prosperous in the Commonwealth. She estimated perhaps two to three dozen bodies, and likely five times that number in bison.

Custom dictated she undertake the responsibility to report this atrocity to the nearest Omoro village. Many wives, sons and daughters would weep at this news, but due diligence required her to take a closer look first. Slowly, Shelladda moved out of the shadows of the low trees and stood to her full height. Shelladda was a large woman, six feet tall, well fed and thickly proportioned. Stronger than most men who attempted to lay hands on her.

Thankfully that happened less and less nowadays. Shelladda was never beautiful to begin with, but now in her forties she was too old to be at all attractive. She was a druid besides, animals and other natural living things were her focus in all their many forms, and she often preferred their company to other humans.

Closeby, her personal animal companion and mount, a mighty wild bison named Ruddah, bellowed his discomfort sensing she was about to go nearer to danger. ~Calm yourself old friend, we will avenge them all I swear!~ She said soothingly via mental telepathy.

Steeling herself, Shelladda made her way around the outskirts of the killing zone, avoiding the hyenas and big cats. Not because they were likely to attack her, but out of respect. Her eyes scanned through the bloody grasses, counting Gnoll paw-prints, deconstructing the battle with how they lay. A stream of mental pictures came through her mind, a vision of the attack as it unfolded.

This was not like any ambush she had seen before. These Gnolls were not lying in wait for this herd, they seemingly appeared directly within their midst! Signs of stampede were evident in all directions. These animals bolted every which way to avoid the awful fangs and claws of their attackers. Some of their shepherds and the warriors were trampled by their own herd. She knew at least a dozen Gnolls were necessary to chase down so many panic-stricken men and beasts in such a broad area. More impressively, From the look of these tracks, all this killing was accomplished within ten minutes or less...

Shelladda quickly recognized signs... strange impressions in the earth, the odd-scattered spear and crude axe, the brutal rending tears of claws and teeth on flesh. Different species of Gnolls behaved differently and Shelladda already surmised this slaughter was not the work of the militant Warmonger Gnolls. If this had been their doing the killing would be cleaner, more efficient.

Warmonger Gnolls always peppered their foes with arrows and ranged weapons, hoping to provoke a panic before they surrounded them, closing in with heavy shields and bristling polearms in disciplined ranks until victory was assured. Only then would they charge to savor battle in closer quarters.

Tribal villages, Athenean towns and army patrols faced down Gnoll war parties at least once a month as dozens of Athenean soldiers died on the border wall attempting to keep them at bay every day. Attacks within the walls were usually tracked back to a weakness in the border defenses. A tunnel dug out by goblin slaves, ladders and ropes brought over the wall, holes breached through the wall itself by giants, etc.

Typically it was common Gnolls, or perhaps Flind Gnolls (The Elite Hunters) who infiltrated in groups small enough to evade patrols. Strangely, their tactics were usually smarter than this, often relying on ambush in favorable terrain to ensure none survived. This was different. The terrain was completely unfavorable to contain their prey. Stranger still... these Gnolls didn't move on again after their killing was done. As far as she could tell their tracks disappeared, as if the beasts vanished mid-step, likely with meat still hanging from their jaws?!

Shellada shook her head. How could so many Gnolls make it this far inland without being spotted? Especially ones so ferocious and fearless as these? Her mind itched as she remembered sites of other killings, similar in ferocity but not in scale, over two decades. An unlikely and eerie explanation resurfaced in her thoughts, the seed of a theory she’d never fully proven or fully discounted.

Shelladda realized only the most savage and bloodthirsty of Gnoll species... the so-called Rabid Gnolls could accomplish this carnage. She had only glimpsed one small pack in all her years of ranging across the frontier. Her memory of those hulking, bestial, canine humanoids covered in dull orange fur with the head and shoulders of hyenas striped in red or yellow patterns stretched down to large, powerfully clawed hands kept her up at night. The look of their bloodthirsty bloodshot eyes and the hauntingly snarling tone of their blood lust, foaming jaws, and oversize fangs was the stuff of nightmares!

Not much for armor or weapons, Rabid Gnolls preferred crude garments of coarse fabric, hides, or none at all. Stealth, self-restraint and patience were not in their nature either which meant some sort of dark magic was at work here! How else could they appear and vanish without a trace?!

[Shelladda: Please make Spot & Listen checks..It is late afternoon, hot but not mercilessly so in mid spring. Please describe any active spells, abilities or spell like effects you may be using. Feel free to attempt any other skill or knowledge checks you wish. You do not need to make rolls for your animal companion at this time.]
 
Last edited:

log in or register to remove this ad

97mg

Explorer
Shelladda - Grasses & Blood

The stench of bloody death. Shelladda stood amongst the aftermath of a massacre, overwhelmed trying to make heads or tails of it all. A primitive woman, who'd led an often solitary life in the wild, wasn't blessed with knowledge of dark magic, nor the motive that had ended these poor souls.

What she did have, was empathy and wisdom. An ability to whittle down to basics and gauge truth through what she witnessed and felt in her heart. She saw things simply, and oft this was a blessing in itself.

Death as such, was part of living. She knew the unbreakable link between the two and understood the needs of both. Yes, she'd witnessed death countless times. The hunting to survive. The work of herding and butchering to support their tribes. The need to establish rules and punishments as communities grew, tribal wars and misgivings too. Never though, had she seen such wanton killing as this. It appeared as brutality, plain and simple. One race's violence fueled by hatred alone. If there was more to it, she didn't know.

Shelladda's was a life of simplicity. Simple to those who didn't need to live it perhaps, with their razor-sharp weaponry, elite tactics, scrolls and modern ways. She was a wanderer, a friendly face in many of the villages though she never stayed long. The world around her was changing, yet just like a bison, she was firm and resolute in the path of her existence. She cared little for the concept of settling down, nor did she aspire to marriage, children and all that follows. She was too old for that anyway. Instead, the woman roamed here and there among nature's friendship, slowly gaining a reputation for her healing hands and warming spirit among her kind.

Shelladda lived hand-to-mouth as best she could, yet the cold clutches of currency and commercialization had also had their way. A people who once bartered or traded were becoming monetized. Coin. It was changing everything. Even in the wilderness the old ways were slowly being unlearned. In order to survive, she'd had to adapt. Still though, it was a good life, visiting peoples who respected her skills with their flocks, packs and herds. She had a knack with animals, her ability to both understand and heal bringing trust and friendship wherever she walked. Coin. She was running low, but it didn't worry her.

The scene was like a great black cloud. An ominous symbol that her way of life was truly under threat.

In an old fur cloak upon simple underclothes of woven field-grass, stood with spears strapped to her back and a blade by her side, Shelladda began to sing.

From the fields we arose and from the land we return,
our blood with the soil to grow trees and ferns.
Hand in hand we watch Karfulu as she cuts,
laying trenches for our youth, our seedlings and nuts.


Soon, it would be time to walk. A visit to the Omoro. The concept of relaying her testimony to them was as if a great weight had been strapped upon her back. But she was Karfulu's! She would carry! She would walk! She would tell them what she knew! This was the way of her people.

As much as she wished to leave this hell immediately however, she knew further respect than this was due. She'd depart when she was certain, knowing without a doubt that all before her had been branded on her mind.

She turned her head to the light breeze in the air. She narrowed her gaze and scanned everything once more.

(Spot: = 10)
(Listen:
= 24)

This, she told herself, she would never forget. Their kin would request details and truth. She would do her best to learn what she could.

[sblock=Shelladda Stats]
SHELLADDA - a big woman with a big heart and some small ideas

Sheet:
http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1034457
Level
4, Init 1, HP 32/32,
AC 18, Touch 11, Flat-footed 17, Fort 7, Ref 3, Will 9, Base Attack Bonus 3
Spear: +7 to hit (d8+3)
Scimitar: +6 to hit (d6+3)
Spells: 5/4/3
Ruddah (Animal Companion): 37HP, AC13, INT +0, SPD 40, Gore +8 to hit (1D8+9)

[/sblock]
 
Last edited by a moderator:

narayan

Explorer
Shelladda

From a distance of perhaps 15 yards, you hear a pair of high pitched voices in a harsh guttural language.

Voice 1: "Taal or! Kuush dhuur dekhaaraan."

Voice 2: "Kuush ar dar Lhalach! A dac duun ghalaan a khraal merthaan dhuur ghec tech dhuul ar merthaan."

Voice 1: "Druuc o kaalkaalkaar Grauls rhuur rhaalec or ker daan kan delkaan o dreruukaal?"

The language is easily enough to identify as Goblin, if not so easily understood. At this moment you cannot yet spot the evil little humanoids among the boulders, shrubs and fever trees around the outskirts of the meadow. But you do surmise their distance and the direction of their approach. It seems they're following the trail of tracks left by the herd.

Goblins are reviled by most intelligent races here in the Commonwealth, a hatred shared by the Goblins themselves who disrespect all life for no other reason than to defile, despoil and profane. Their tribes are dug into the frontier as thick as ticks, usually in caves, emerging at night to lurk around the fringes of towns and villages. Good people keep their children close to home for that reason, and travel in groups of four or more to discourage Goblin ambush.

You are also aware there are some who make a habit of dealing with them once they learn their vile tongue, hiring and training them for nefarious deeds. (Usually bandits, smugglers and thieves guilds) For this reason it is not uncommon for certain tribes to learn deadly skills like poison making, trap making and sometimes alchemy. Certain trading posts and villages permit regular visits by Goblin traders, a practice largely frowned upon. Druids typically consider Goblins a menace to all life deserved of extermination.

At this moment, the scavengers also take note of those voices. Raising their ears and staring into the brush. Lions and Hyenas will sometimes charge and chase away Goblins defending their kills, but otherwise avoid the filthy humanoids and their deadly poisoned arrows.

[Shelladda: Roll initiative. Note: You can take a single move action to rush for cover. (Normally if you also intend to move silently while you move for cover, that reduces your speed by half and thus takes two move actions. But both Hide and Move Silently are not class skills for Shelladda.) I will permit you to use Move Silently and Hide as cross-class skills in this situation because this is the natural environment you are most familiar with.]
 
Last edited:

97mg

Explorer
Shelladda - Grasses & Blood

Shelladda flinched.

~Goblins Goblins!~

It sounded like their were only a pair, and the tribal druid would have had no qualms making herself known and dealing with them first-hand, except for the circumstances. The closeness of their proximity didn't bode well. It was strange that they had arrived here so swiftly to the scene of a massacre. Perhaps they were involved somehow? Or merely here to disgrace the dead by nabbing personal belongings? Surely herders wouldn't have much though. She chose to restrain herself, and let her burning hatred be little more than a firm face... for now. Better to linger, and see what information they might add to the horrific mess.

Now Shelladda wasn't really a hider, nor a runaway type. Her physique simply didn't suit it. She was large, thick, heavy, and had no reputation for swift movement nor grace. She would try though, hoping to quietly duck for cover and make shelter behind one of the land's lonely boulders. Perhaps they'd be stupid enough not to notice.

[Initiative = 19. Pre-emptive Move Silently = 3. Hide = 2 (Natural 1!) ]


~Bulaggara Rikkorik!~


She cursed in her native tongue. Her mass and lack of tact had probably only served to make her more obvious!

[sblock=Shelladda Stats]
SHELLADDA - a big woman with a big heart and some small ideas

Sheet:
http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1034457
Level
4, Init 1, HP 32/32,
AC 18, Touch 11, Flat-footed 17, Fort 7, Ref 3, Will 9, Base Attack Bonus 3
Spear: +7 to hit (d8+3)
Scimitar: +6 to hit (d6+3)
Spells: 5/4/3
Ruddah (Animal Companion): 37HP, AC13, INT +0, SPD 40, Gore +8 to hit (1D8+9)

[/sblock]
 

narayan

Explorer
Shelladda

You manage to move first and conceal yourself somewhat. (You have used one move action)

The pair of goblins move out of the brush into view a mere 30 ft. away. One is shorter, merely three feet tall wielding a crossbow. The other is over three and a half feet tall holding a shield and spear with a battle axe at his hip. Both are dressed in tattered leathers with crude wrappings fashioned like mocassins around large dirtied feet protruding with dirty claws. Their thin bodies have assorted sacks, pouches and other equipment tied and hanging from straps around their shoulders and hips. This pair appears to be outfitted for a longer trek as if they were trailing this tribe for days.

Their faces are ugly and animalistic with oversized brows and sloped forheads. Long wiry hair tufts around oversized and pointed ears. These creatures seem to move with a purpose, already scanning the corpses with their deeply set glassy black eyes.

Short Goblin: (Initiative 2) "Graul Hach tan daan akhaal an shagel rhec a talkac. Kuush dhuur a dhakec dhaakhaagaal maarthaan."

Tall Goblin: (Initiative 2) "Dar't a maarthaan?"

Clearly the short one has a bit more brains than the taller one. He seems to talk at him with annoyance, but the taller one seems to merely ask questions instead of dominating him the way larger goblins tend to do to with smaller ones.

[Shelladda: What do you do? For the moment they appear distracted enough that you could possibly attack by surprise with a ranged weapon or spell, or you can remain still, do nothing and hope you aren't spotted for the rest of the round? If they don't spot you, you will still act first the following round.]
 

97mg

Explorer
Shelladda - Grasses & Blood

She clenched her jaw and dropped lower into the undergrowth, which wasn't nearly tall nor thick enough to offer decent concealment. Till now though, it had worked just fine.

Shelladda resisted the urge to just lob a spear at one of them. Had things been different she would have just cleansed the land of the ugly pair, but right now too much was unknown.

No, better to wait and see if they offer up some insight through their actions or deeds. The druidess waited quietly in a defensive pose.

[sblock=Shelladda Stats]
SHELLADDA - a big woman with a big heart and some small ideas

Sheet:
http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1034457
Level
4, Init 1, HP 32/32,
AC 18, Touch 11, Flat-footed 17, Fort 7, Ref 3, Will 9, Base Attack Bonus 3
Spear: +7 to hit (d8+3)
Scimitar: +6 to hit (d6+3)
Spells: 5/4/3
Ruddah (Animal Companion): 37HP, AC13, INT +0, SPD 40, Gore +8 to hit (1D8+9)

[/sblock]
 

narayan

Explorer
Shelladda vs the two Goblins

Short Goblin: (Spot Check: = 13, Success)

The short goblin spots you crouched a mere stones throw away and shrieks "Molkac!" before he raises his crossbow and fires!

(Ranged Crossbow attack: = 22, Hits!)(Location: = 3: Right Shoulder )(Damage: = 1)

The goblins aim is much better than average for one of his kind and the black-tipped bolt pierces your hide armor on your right shoulder, though only barely, dealing minimal damage. [-1 to all checks until the bolt is removed; see Combat House Rules]

[Shelladda: Make a Fortitude Save vs. poison. Because you used a delayed action you can still react before the tall goblins turn. You can only take one move action, cast a spell, or make one ranged attack with a readied weapon before the end of the round. What do you do?]
 

97mg

Explorer
Shelladda - Grasses & Blood

The large native woman glanced to her shoulder, a fresh site of stinging pain.

"Evil vermin!" she exclaimed in native tongue.

Thankfully, the woman's muscles were protected by a firm and age-old layer of fat. The arrowhead had neither detached nor dug too far. That didn't really change anything though. Now, on principal alone, these two scoundrels had it coming!

A firey glare came from her deep dark eyes as she looked to her assailants. So many options to deal with these two, but sometimes the traditional method is best. Tried and tested. She stepped back and drew a spear into her right hand, and brought her wooden shield out before her whilst stepping back.

"Jugga juggo!" She called, waving the spear up and down in her first. ~Come get some!~

[Fort Save = 17. Shelladda is taking a 5ft step back and using free-actions to prepare herself for next round.]

[sblock=Shelladda Stats]
SHELLADDA - a big woman with a big heart and some small ideas

Sheet:
http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1034457
Level
4, Init 1, HP 32/32,
AC 18, Touch 11, Flat-footed 17, Fort 7, Ref 3, Will 9, Base Attack Bonus 3
Spear: +7 to hit (d8+3)
Scimitar: +6 to hit (d6+3)
Spells: 5/4/3
Ruddah (Animal Companion): 37HP, AC13, INT +0, SPD 40, Gore +8 to hit (1D8+9)

[/sblock]
 

narayan

Explorer
Shelladda vs the two Goblins

__________________________________________

<Round 1>


Bleeding Damage ( * )
Fire Damage ( # )
Cold Damage ( @ )
Spell Damage ( ^ )
Spell Healing ( ^ )
Poison Damage ( ! )

The order of initiative is:

(19) Shelladda (-1)
(3) Short Goblin
(2) Tall Goblin

__________________________________________

As you ready your stance, the tall Goblin does likewise, on the defensive as he speaks to the short goblin.

Tall Goblin: "Or huuruuc an'd duugec Gnadrezz?! Taan't rhec, ogaac dhuur a molkac dhaalkal'daan. Daan tuuch dhaan!"

Short Goblin: "Graul dech haaguukal'dec hoch or hor or ar daan druun Cravekz. A'k araan ghec ghuun draarthec huuruuc. O tac hor!"

The short goblin ends the round by reloading his crossbow... but he does not grab one of several from his quiver, instead he grabs a single bolt from a wrist sheath sewn into a leather bracer on his forearm.

__________________________________________

<End of Round 1>


[Shelladda: You are first to act on round 2. Declare your actions.]
 

97mg

Explorer
Shelladda - Grasses & Blood

Shelladda noticed little beast's ongoing conversation, but that didn't change anything. They'd started this! She drew a quick breath between her ample lips, held the air in her lungs a moment, and then with a great exhale let her spear take to the air.

"Gula!"


It wasn't a lobbing to be overly proud of, as it sped off "vaguely" towards the shorter of the two nasties.

Before the primitive weapon had even landed, she drew another. Even if she wasn't the best shot where agility was concerned, she always favored its reach as a melee weapon, if it came to that.

[Attack Short Goblin = 10. Probably a miss but rolled the following just in case: Hit Location = Left Arm, Damage = 11. For her move action she is readying another spear.]

[sblock=Shelladda Stats]
SHELLADDA - a big woman with a big heart and some small ideas

Sheet:
http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1034457
Level
4, Init 1, HP 31/32,
AC 18, Touch 11, Flat-footed 17, Fort 7, Ref 3, Will 9, Base Attack Bonus 3
Spear: +7 to hit (d8+3)
Scimitar: +6 to hit (d6+3)
Spells: 5/4/3
Ruddah (Animal Companion): 37HP, AC13, INT +0, SPD 40, Gore +8 to hit (1D8+9)

[/sblock]
 

narayan

Explorer
Shelladda vs the two Goblins; Round 2

__________________________________________

<Round 2>


Bleeding Damage ( * )
Fire Damage ( # )
Cold Damage ( @ )
Spell Damage ( ^ )
Spell Healing ( ^ )
Poison Damage ( ! )

The order of initiative is:

(19) Shelladda (-1)
(3) Short Goblin
(2) Tall Goblin

__________________________________________

Your spear flies harmlessly over the head of the short goblin landing behind and to the left of where he stands. [Roll of 6 on the 1d8 thrown weapon chart on Page 158 of the Players Handbook] Both goblins appear encouraged by the missed attack and retaliate with missile weapons of their own.

Short Goblin: (Ranged Crossbow Attack:= 12, Miss)

Tall Goblin: (
Ranged Spear Attack: = 4, Miss)

Neither of their weapons fair better than yours for aim this time. The Tall Goblins small-sized spear lands to your left. [Roll of 7 on the thrown weapon miss chart] Undeterred the Short Goblin appears to ready another reload on his crossbow while the Tall Goblin readies his battle axe having tossed away his only spear.

[Shelladda:
What do you do? You can still take a move action before the end of round 2, or if you wish you can declare new actions for round 3.]
 

97mg

Explorer
Shelladda - Grasses & Blood

It seemed that Shelladda's poor luck was contagious, the woman of the wilderness smirking as a crossbow bolt and spear flew past. The evil little people's intention was clear. They wanted her dead, and the feeling was mutual.

Goblins. An un-natural, viscious and venomous pest on this earth. The plains would be better with two less of them.

Shelladda narrowed her eyes on the shorter of the two, bent her elbow, and took careful aim with a gaze down her spear's shaft. Hopefully, she could adjust the launch angle based on her earlier failure. As it took flight though, things didn't look quite right.

Time to move onto other things. With a battle axe being presented by the larger of the enemies, Shelladda responded by whisking out her scimitar. Things were about to get close and personal.

[Spear ranged attack = 12 (Assuming miss. Let me know if it isn't.) Roll for where it lands = 1. Drawing Scimitar as move action.]

[sblock=Shelladda Stats]
SHELLADDA - a big woman with a big heart and some small ideas

Sheet:
http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1034457
Level
4, Init 1, HP 32/32,
AC 18, Touch 11, Flat-footed 17, Fort 7, Ref 3, Will 9, Base Attack Bonus 3
Spear: +7 to hit (d8+3)
Scimitar: +6 to hit (d6+3)
Spells: 5/4/3
Ruddah (Animal Companion): 37HP, AC13, INT +0, SPD 40, Gore +8 to hit (1D8+9)

[/sblock]
 

narayan

Explorer
Joseth Occius

Joseth Occius walks with the smooth strong strides of an experienced traveler. From a distance he is just another Mgorongoron making his way along the rough-worn roads of Athenea's eastern frontier; sandals stepping beside deep ruts worn in from trains of supply wagons accompanied by scores of Commonwealth soldiers. Travel through eastern Athenea's frontier is dangerous, especially for a lone man on foot, but Joseth is no common tribesman. Beneath weathered robes of purple, gold and white, armor and weapons are well conealed along with visual clues about his unusual heritage, upbringing and religious indoctrination.

Men of Joseth's faith are whispered of throughout Sion as 'The Doomed', a term of both wonder and derisement. Mysterious as they are feared, Clerics of Cronus are wanderers without a homeland, pilgrims without a temple. Harshly pragmatic, their attitude about the world is poignantly cynical, suspicious, dogmatic and rarely law-abiding. Clerics of Cronus walk in the footsteps of the prophet Hozia, a figure of history little loved by other mainstream faiths on Sion. The Church of Pentos actually hunts down followers of Hozia with paladins, executing them mercilessly as heretics and idoloters. A fate Hozia himself suffered in martyrdom. Clerics of Cronus are the leaders and defenders of the followers of Hozia, wandering throughout the world to uncover relics and establish settlements.

Joseth felt his lips muttering one of Hozia's holy chants, a favorite of his tutor Zedekiah who suffered horrible burns from the spells of searing light employed by the paladins of Pentos. Zedekiah escaped death and survived in obscurity Llong enough to finish Joseth's religious education years after Joseth's father (and the rest of his settlement of Hozia's followers) perished. Joseth often heard himself muttering that chant whenever his mentors memory haunted him. He missed the old rascal a great deal and carried his staff as a memento.

Joseth himself only survived the destruction of his fathers settlement because Joseth's mother was the daughter of a Mgorongoron tribal chief and quite a fierce woman. She fled back into the Commonwealth of Athenea for protection into the tribal territories with her son, already nearly a teenager. Joseth grew up torn between two ways of life. His grandfather Kimotho (the tribal chief) and the rest of the tribe mocked the Gallian customs and lifestyle he was raised in as 'foreign foolishness.'

Joseth was educated harshly in the ways of tribal life... herding cattle, hunting, fighting and back-breaking labor. The other youth called him 'Bulu Fojusi', Mgorongoron for 'Blue-eyed idiot'. At a certain age he was expected to marry and take his place in the tribal order, but after his mother died Joseth left the tribe for good. Or so he thought.

Joseth returned to the Gallian settlement of Gallicus to the south, hoping to find some answers in the ruins of his fathers settlement, but all he found was ashes and dust. Joseth tracked rumors of other survivors for close to a year before he finally found Zedekiah, an elderly Cleric of Cronus who tutored his father before him. Joseth learned many things from Zedekiah...

The Origins of Lutheria and the Reign of Luther

Long ago, before the Great Republic of Gallia formed the continent was divided into city-states ruled by oligarchs turned tyrants. One such state went through a period of revolution led by a Warlock named Luther, an outsider trained in the arcane arts by the evil Kingdom of Khimera across the sea on the island of Chival. Luthers powers inspired great fear, but he claimed he never sold his soul to the demons the way other Khimeran Warlocks had.

He credited his powers instead to an ancient and powerful artifact. Luther claimed this artifact possessed a great magical intelligence belonging to the great god Cronus. Other priests spoke against Luther and this artifact, claiming Cronus was a god of chaos who could not be trusted. Nevertheless, Luther's genius paired to the powers of this artifact convinced many would-be allies of his right to rule.

Luther's ideas were highly unorthodox and advanced for his time. He credited many to the artifact as 'revelations of Cronus'. Luther preached about a system of laws that held all men as equals with mutual responsibility for the greater good. A doctrine that was highly unpopular with petty lords, yet welcomed by commoners.

Slowly over the course of several years, Luther gathered an army of followers and prepared to lead an uprising to overthrow the reigning nobles and depose the seated King. His campaign was frighteningly effective, aided by his own cadre of trained warlocks, advanced alchemical items and superior masterwork weapons of steel forged by spell and enchanted with wicked powers.

In victory the people rejoiced and named Luther the new Lord Ruler and renamed their lands Lutheria in his honor. Luthers government was equal parts magocracy and oligarchy. His code of laws was erected in stone at the center of every town square chiseled into a stone obelisk. Luther's reign was long and prosperous. His people were well fed, educated and empowered. Lutheria's wealth, marvels and monuments soon became the envy of the continent.

A highly independent and intelligent lot, Lutherians were craftsman, artists and architects without rival. Yet still were they also debauched, greedy and sinful. Luther's laws had little basis in morality, so long as order was observed. Slavery and all manner of indebted servitude quickly became the norm.

The Gallian Church of Pentos

Neighboring nobles saw Lutheria as an intollerable growing threat, attempting several invasions, pressing their borders, slowing Lutherias expansion as much as possible. Nevertheless, Lutheria's smaller military managed to fight off armies of far larger size for decades with their warlocks, advanced siege-weaponry and impressive defensive fortifications.

It was the the advent of the Church of Pentos in Gallia that threatened Lutheria more than the enemy lords ever could individually. Its tenants labeled Lutheria's laws blasphemous and Cronus as evil and unjust. A rising fervor of religious fanaticism promised to crusade against Lutheria. All the enemy lords had to do was join the faith and find their ranks swelled to an overwhelming advantage.

The Prophet Hozia

It was during this period the prophet Hozia came to Lutheria. The Lutherian people were stunned to witness Hozia's uncanny resemblance to Luther himself. Paintings and sculptures everywhere proved it.

However Hozia was a much different man than Luther, in many ways his opposite. Though every bit a genius and individualist, Hozia was a Cleric, not a Warlock. He claimed to receive powers directly from Cronus through prayer. Labeling Luther as an idolater and false prophet who misused an artifact to gain absolute power. He went further to say Luther was beholden to demons with a plan to strip the land of its wealth and conscience.

Like Luther himself, Hozia went underground and went about gathering followers and preparing an uprising, though he had far less time to accomplish it than Luther had. Hozia warned of the holy crusade gathering against Lutheria, preaching it would destroy them all within the year if they did not depose Luther.

Unlike Luther, Hozia preached that man should not live in gluttony and sin just because he could. Hozia believed in honesty, humility, passionate expression and individual freedom.

He believed laws should serve the greater good by protecting the individual. That the prosperous many should uplift the unfortunate and unlucky few. A dogma that directly contradicted the laws of Luther where the old, weak, sick and disabled were discarded.

As Hozia's following grew, Luther became incensed at the threat to his rule by this 'impostor'. Luther quickly became every bit the evil tyrant Hozia warned he was, cruelly imprisoning and executing anyone known to associate with Hozia's cause.

In the worst days of Luthers reign, Hozia revealed a remarkable secret to his closest followers explaining that he was not actually Luther's brother at all, but that they were in fact the same person, split in form and consciousness. In essence, Luther was another version of Hozia who had been corrupted by the unholy Demon God Herod.

Herod lured Hozia into retrieving a crystal shard beneath the caverns of Khimera under the guise of a stranger. The moment he touched the shard, Hozia became enlightened about Cronus because the shard was actually a piece of his consciousness, lost at the doom of the old world at the start of the first ice age. Hozia was overwhelmed with knowledge, and in that moment of vulnerability Herod convinced Hozia to imagine what sort of tyranny he could accomplish with such a powerful relic.

A part of Hozia's consciousness split as he imagined such a thing, manifesting a villainous version of himself named Luther. Luther snatched away the shard from Hozia and immediately undertook the tutelage of Herod becoming a powerful Warlock. He then made his way to the continent of Gallia where Herod hoped to spread his influence.

Hozia meanwhile was imprisoned by Herod, but protected and empowered by Cronus who saw in him a true believer worthy of his power. Many years later, after Hozia spent enough years in meditation to gather his strength, he escaped Herod's prison and made his way after Luther.

in the end the secret to defeat Luther was Hozia's martyrdom facing off against the Crusaders of Pentos... for by allowing himself to be destroyed, Hozia also ensured Luther was destroyed. Hozia's meditations on Cronus brought forth wisdom beyond most mortal beings understanding which he preached to his followers. Here is but one example...

The Nature of Magic & the Great Wheel

To understand the nature of magic one must first comprehend the nature of the great wheel. Time is the mechanism that keeps the great wheel of The Planes turning. As time moves, things change. The relationship of time and change is measured with age. Time is a constant omnipresent force, or rather, the relationship of change to the passage of time is constant.

Nothing on the great wheel is permanent. Time changes all eventually and the breadth of time itself is inconceivable. The planes were not always as they are known now, nor will they always be. It is likely that the planes shrink and grow and merge in every possible way. It is also likely that innumerable variations of the planes will exist, and have existed.

Magic is the antithesis of time. Magic creates, magic changes, magic destroys when it can at the will of those that manipulate it. Magic should not be confused with the spark of life, light and dark, the substance of the soul, or part of the nature of good and evil. Magic is apart from all those things, and also part of all those things because just as energy and matter never disappear magic merely changes form.

Think of a rock. That rock was not always a rock. A rock is made up of other things in a different state and combination then they were before. A rock can cease to be a rock. It can crumble to dust or melt into magma but as a rock it can only be a rock. A rock will not grow into a tree but a seed can. A seed is alive and therefore designed to grow, live and die when conditions permit it. Likewise the rock only came to be when conditions permitted it to form over time and it will not change again until time passes or something changes it. This understanding of things living and not living as we know them, does not apply to magic.

Magic is a unique form of energy that exist in all things. Magic bonds everything to everything else. It is invisible and intangible and amorphic. It can be anything at anytime but it will not always exist as it was or could be. A magic rock is still a rock, and just as the rock can only exist in certain circumstances for an impermanent amount of time so will the magic in the rock.

Magic can be used in innumerable ways by anyone with knowledge of spellcraft. No being is immune to magic entirely or live apart from magic because magic is everywhere, and part of all things. The force of magic is invisible and intangible and undeniably powerful. In some ways magic is like a living force. It can grow stronger, or weaken, when other magic is added to it. Magic can be used to block other magic, absorb other magic, or change other magic.

There are some questions about magic that will probably never be answered. Does magic exist as part of something else outside the great wheel? Is magic finite like energy and matter seem to be? Will there ever be a version of the universe without magic? Only Cronus can grasp such concepts, as most gods are merely ascendant versions of the mortals they once were.

No being, or god, has lived long enough to watch a world form and disappear. The origins of the planes, magic, and time itself will forever be a mystery. Most believe they intimate a design of a supreme power. However If you believe in free will, then surely those beings that think for themselves have some impact on the nature of the great wheel. Or If you believe in destiny you could say that everything that was and will be has already been anticipated by the creator and nothing you do will ever change your fate.

Regardless of its origin, the nature of magic is still largely unknown. Commonly held theories about magic in its various forms are at best quaint observations. There is no difference in arcane and divine magic other then the means to summon it. Faith and spellcraft are more or less equally daunting disciplines to master.

Magic does change form in a sense. It is believed that compressed magic, like that in magical items, is dangerously unpredictable. A magic artifact for instance will actually gain strange properties or powers it never had after enough time passes, especially those with sentient personalities. Cronus himself exemplifies this property of magical intelligence. As his own magical consciousness changes over time, his power and influence over the world grows (he acquires new domains as his clerics learn and explore the world, using his spells to manipulate the world in many different ways).

Zedekiah's final Words

Zedekiah's last words to Joseth revealed a secret about why his father sought out his mother. He explained that an ancient relic revered highly by her tribe might actually date back to the age of Cronus and thus hold great secrets of great powers of that lost age. If so, Clerics of Cronus had a responsibility to study and safeguard it.

Joseth's Quest

Of course the tribal ancestors believed Mawu was the source of most magical power on Mgorongoro and the maker of the sacred relic, but Joseth knew better. Mawu and the oldest gods of mankind were not the oldest gods on Sion at all. His god, Cronus, predated all others, (except perhaps for Herod and the major demihuman gods who also existed on many other worlds) and for that reason tribal shamans and druids didn't trust Cronus.

Joseth knew some ruins and relics predated all known history, a fact many clerics and shamans would never acknowledge. Joseth was careful not to speak of things as fact beyond the scope of tribal knowledge, making claims about the relic they honored and alternate theories about its origins.

When he came back to the head village of the Omoro tribe to study the relic, he learned it had recently been stolen by a shaman who stole away with a group of warriors and shepherds herding cattle to market in the nearby town of Dreadhill. The chief and the tribal elders were beside themselves with worry. Never before had one of their own betrayed them like this. Joseth remembered his conversation with the chief quite vividly.

Kimotho: "You must hurry and find the sacred relic Mtoto." (Mtoto = Mgorongoron term for grandson) "It's loss will anger Mawu and weaken the tribe without its magic!"

Joseth: "Oupa, Mawu will do no such thing. That relic wasn't created by him in the first place." (Oupa = Mgorongoron term for grandfather)

Kimotho: "Yes it was! Mawu left it for our ancestors to find it thousands of years ago, a gift for our worship! If you question this, you risk the wrath of the shamans who will curse you as a non-believier!"

Joseth: Swallowed and rephrased. "I believe the relic belongs to the Omoro tribe. Regardless of its actual origins I will do my duty and recover it."

Kimotho: "I will hold you to your word Joseth! You're just as foolish as your mother Mtoto, your fascination with the foreigners ways will twist your mind with lies. If you are not careful you will loose your way!"

Joseth resisted the urge to react to the harsh words about his mother. His grandfather was nothing if not blunt. Somehow Joseth managed to maintain his calm and received the chiefs blessing to retrieve the relic, despite the fact Joseth wasn't quite convinced he would actually honor his promise to return it to the tribe.

Chief Kimotho's choice upset several other tribal warriors who all clamored for the honor. Bitter and harshly opinionated though he was, Kimotho understood Joseth was the best suited to recover the relic because he was best suited to interact with the foreign world to find it.

And thus Joseth found himself on the road to Dreadhill, following the tracks of the great herd of cattle with a full days lead on him...
 
Last edited:

narayan

Explorer
Shelladda vs the two Goblins; Round 3

__________________________________________

<Round 3>


Bleeding Damage ( * )
Fire Damage ( # )
Cold Damage ( @ )
Spell Damage ( ^ )
Spell Healing ( ^ )
Poison Damage ( ! )

The order of initiative is:

(19) Shelladda (-2)
(3) Short Goblin
(2) Tall Goblin

__________________________________________

Your spear flies short, sticking near the feet of the short goblin. The taller goblin appears quite upset that you attempted to injure the shorter goblin and reaches to heft your larger spear into his hands and hurl it back at you! Meanwhile the shorter goblin fires yet another crossbow bolt at you.

Short Goblin: (Crossbow Attack:= 23, Hit!)(Location: = 14, Chest)(Damage: = 1) A second black-tipped bolt pierces your hide armor, this time on your chest. [Additional -1 to all checks until the bolt is removed; see Combat House Rules]

Tall Goblin: (Medium-Sized Spear Attack: = 5, Miss) The goblin has some difficulty hefting the heavier spear. His throw is worse than before and your spear thrown back at you lands next to where the tall goblin's spear landed last round.

[Shelladda: Make a second saving throw vs. poison for being hit by another crossbow bolt. Declare new actions for round 4.]

__________________________________________

< End of Round 3 >
 

narayan

Explorer
Joseth Occius

Your travel from the village has been uneventful giving you time to think. Why was the relic taken and exactly by whom? Mgorongoron tribesman are largely superstitious and fearful of angering their god. It was doubtful any of the warriors or shepherds would risk touching the relic, much less making away with it. The village shaman had a pupil, a student, who also left with the heard to bless their endeavor and be sure there was no foul play.

His name is Tiassal, someone who's viewed relic before under the guidance of the shaman. Of everyone who left with the herd, Tiassal seems the most likely thief, though in truth you know very little about him. Tiassal was one of four pupils the head shaman was currently training to watch over smaller villages. Training usually lasts about one full year. Tiassal was the newest of the pupils and had only been with the shaman for a few month's time.

Kimotho and the shaman have thus far kept the fact the relic is missing a secret from the rest of the tribe so you were unable to question anyone else in the tribe about Tiassal without raising suspicions. As soon as you arrived in the village Kimotho and the shaman pulled you aside, explained the situation and told to make haste immediately in pursuit of the herd.

You are still a few days away from Dreadhill on foot, but you are you sure you will catch the slower-moving herd before they reach the town. There is no difficulty following the tracks of the herd, even for someone like yourself who is not a tracker, but if Tiassal or whomever stole the relic ditches the group before it reaches the town it will be far more difficult for you to track them individually.

Presently it is late morning, warm but not yet hot, (though mercifully now in mid spring the heat is still bearable). You have followed the herd away from the road for a while, which is not unusual whenever there is a favored grazing area or water hole along the route. (Local Mgorongoron's are usually very familiar with the land).

Joseth: (Make a Spot check)
 

97mg

Explorer
Shelladda - Grasses & Blood

The bulky frame of the primitive druid absorbed another bolt. She visibly winced, a stab of pain and lingering annoyance. They were peppering her, restricting her freedom one tiny piece at a time. Thankfully, yet again the poisonous tip seemed to fail to make contact with anything other than muscle and meat.

With a grunt she loosened two fingers from the scimitar's grip, wrapping them around this new shaft protruding from her chest, and with a small squeal wrenched it free.

Further spear-throwing was out of the question. Hunting game and trying to pierce active, angry little bags of scum was very different.

Shelladda howled, "varsullu!" and ran, scimitar raised, straight at the smaller of the two with the intention of cutting him down. Hopefully Ruddah, her Bison companion would hear her animalistic call and charge in upon them too.

[Fort Save vs Poison = 20 (22 -2 for arrowheads). Swift action to remove one bolt. Move action to enter into melee with small goblin if close enough. Attack roll = 11 if she gets there]

[sblock=Shelladda Stats]
SHELLADDA - a big woman with a big heart and some small ideas

Sheet:
http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1034457
Level
4, Init 1, HP 29/32,
AC 18, Touch 11, Flat-footed 17, Fort 7, Ref 3, Will 9, Base Attack Bonus 3
Spear: +7 to hit (d8+3)
Scimitar: +6 to hit (d6+3)
Spells: 5/4/3
Ruddah (Animal Companion): 37HP, AC13, INT +0, SPD 40, Gore +8 to hit (1D8+9)

[/sblock]
 

Aust Thale

Explorer
Your travel from the village has been uneventful giving you time to think. Why was the relic taken and exactly by whom? Mgorongoron tribesman are largely superstitious and fearful of angering their god. It was doubtful any of the warriors or shepherds would risk touching the relic, much less making away with it. The village shaman had a pupil, a student, who also left with the heard to bless their endeavor and be sure there was no foul play.

His name is Tiassal, someone who's viewed relic before under the guidance of the shaman. Of everyone who left with the herd, Tiassal seems the most likely thief, though in truth you know very little about him. Tiassal was one of four pupils the head shaman was currently training to watch over smaller villages. Training usually lasts about one full year. Tiassal was the newest of the pupils and had only been with the shaman for a few month's time.

Kimotho and the shaman have thus far kept the fact the relic is missing a secret from the rest of the tribe so you were unable to question anyone else in the tribe about Tiassal without raising suspicions. As soon as you arrived in the village Kimotho and the shaman pulled you aside, explained the situation and told to make haste immediately in pursuit of the herd.

You are still a few days away from Dreadhill on foot, but you are you sure you will catch the slower-moving herd before they reach the town. There is no difficulty following the tracks of the herd, even for someone like yourself who is not a tracker, but if Tiassal or whomever stole the relic ditches the group before it reaches the town it will be far more difficult for you to track them individually.

Presently it is late morning, warm but not yet hot, (though mercifully now in mid spring the heat is still bearable). You have followed the herd away from the road for a while, which is not unusual whenever there is a favored grazing area or water hole along the route. (Local Mgorongoron's are usually very familiar with the land).

Joseth: (Make a Spot check)

OOC: Joseth rolls Spot Check: 16



~ Bloody well easy to find. ~

Joseth finds himself mildly amused at the irony. A thief travelling among a herd of cattle, likely among the least stealthy manners to travel in any kingdom. Cattle herd left wide swaths of hooved ground and piles upon piles of manure. He chuckled as he walked, amused at the irony and useless trivia that came to mind. Nearly nobody paid much attention to it, but cattle droppings were the primary means of vegetation moving from area to area. He a laughed again to himself.

~ Fill them full of sage, cedar, or gold-weave barley, and they will squeeze out useable crops all the way to the town. ~
In turn, the herd droppings would provide more vegetation to graze on during repeated travels. The herd's manure provided more than enough fuel for the seeds to grow. It had been going on so long, even among lean and dry years, it was easy to see where cattle travelled, where they would travel, and where you could count on a great game of "tip the cow" in the evenings.

"I'll tip that cow indeed," Joseth mumbled, smiling at his own witticism, talking as if to his walking staff. Tiassal was his first suspect, until proven otherwise. The circumstantial evidence suggested there was fire to go with his smoke. He'd start there as soon as he found him. Tiassal was also easy to spot. Younger than most, he was erudite, pleasant to look at, a quick-study, and uncomfortably humble. Joseth found him unpleasantly calm and pleasant. Something was a little...off...about him. Joseth had paid him little mind at first until he saw how quickly magicks came to him. He had brushed it off as 'beginners fortune'. But now....

He weaved around the dung in his path while walking. "Oh! And maize. How lovely." Looking at his walking staff, Joseth talks to it, "Pei, I'm really sorry about this."
Joseth pokes several maize-laced herd droppings along the road as he is walking. They appear to be fresh. Not brand new. But no longer than a few hours old.

He scanned the horizon, looking for the fertile patches of green, or rather, less brown off of the road. Perhaps a water hole was nearby.

"No, Pei, I am not sure how to persuade him to tell the truth. I suspect it will involve him groveling, though."
 
Last edited:

narayan

Explorer
Joseth Occius

OOC: Joseth rolls Spot Check: 16

You spot a local Water Buffalo (Wild Bison) grazing near a large thicket of thorny shrubs and Fever Trees. Water Buffalo's normally graze nearer to rivers, ponds and lakes in their own herds, yet this one was singular. As you peer closer you notice this is no ordinary bison, for it carries packs and a crude saddle of sorts. It is not unheard of for Wild bison to be used as mounts, but only the bravest and strongest dare to ride such strong beasts.

It seems unlikely this buffalo belonged to one of the warriors escorting the herd of cattle. Horses or Mules would better suite the job, and this buffalo doesn't bare any of the usual flair of tribal decoration if it belonged to an Omoro tribesman. The cattle tracks meander through the thicket towards what could be a huge clearing on the other side. At this moment you also realize there are many vultures circling in the air above. An ominous sign.

A bad feeling comes over you as a vision of an attack on the cattle herd enters your imagination. Tribal cattle herds are often roving feasts for Dire Lions, Hyenas, Jackals, and much worse...

Meanwhile the lone buffalo appears to snort and rut its hooves with aggravation. Not towards you specifically (you doubt very much that the beast has picked up your scent yet) but something nearby clearly has its ire up. Perhaps there are predators lurking in the brush? Perhaps you are too late to recover the relic and some monstrous evil has made away with it?!

As that thought gets your blood pumping you suddenly hear a voice howl "Varsullu!" from just beyond the shrubs like some sort of battle cry. The buffalo reacts to the howl like a summons, charging into the thicket swinging its massive horns to and fro ready to trample and gore anything in its path!

[Joseth:
What do you do? You will can reach the edge of the thicket in one round if you charge forward as a double move. If you move more cautiously, you will have another chance to make spot and listen checks first.]
 

Aust Thale

Explorer
Joseth Investigates...

You spot a local Water Buffalo (Wild Bison) grazing near a large thicket of thorny shrubs and Fever Trees. Water Buffalo's normally graze nearer to rivers, ponds and lakes in their own herds, yet this one was singular. As you peer closer you notice this is no ordinary bison, for it carries packs and a crude saddle of sorts. It is not unheard of for Wild bison to be used as mounts, but only the bravest and strongest dare to ride such strong beasts.

It seems unlikely this buffalo belonged to one of the warriors escorting the herd of cattle. Horses or Mules would better suite the job, and this buffalo doesn't bare any of the usual flair of tribal decoration if it belonged to an Omoro tribesman. The cattle tracks meander through the thicket towards what could be a huge clearing on the other side. At this moment you also realize there are many vultures circling in the air above. An ominous sign.

A bad feeling comes over you as a vision of an attack on the cattle herd enters your imagination. Tribal cattle herds are often roving feasts for Dire Lions, Hyenas, Jackals, and much worse...

Meanwhile the lone buffalo appears to snort and rut its hooves with aggravation. Not towards you specifically (you doubt very much that the beast has picked up your scent yet) but something nearby clearly has its ire up. Perhaps there are predators lurking in the brush? Perhaps you are too late to recover the relic and some monstrous evil has made away with it?!

As that thought gets your blood pumping you suddenly hear a voice howl "Varsullu!" from just beyond the shrubs like some sort of battle cry. The buffalo reacts to the howl like a summons, charging into the thicket swinging its massive horns to and fro ready to trample and gore anything in its path!

[Joseth:
What do you do? You will can reach the edge of the thicket in one round if you charge forward as a double move. If you move more cautiously, you will have another chance to make spot and listen checks first.]

~ You are bigger than I am, buffalo, so you get to go first. ~

Not to be outdone by the buffalo, Joseth stows his tall walking stick in his magical quiver and draws his sword from its scabbard as he moves quickly but cautiously toward the bushes.

~Ranged and up close and personal. Perhaps after the buffalo has a go, so shall I. ~

He listens and peers into the bushes as he begins to step through, but armored and with weapons, concentrated effort is difficult.

OOC: Listen Check: 12; Spot Check: 6


His sword is a mighty weapon. Fierce. Ugly looking with designs resembling runes (but are not). Joseth likes it that way. Weapons are for killing. They should invoke fear and be feared. He certainly feared others' weapons. He chose his own such that an opponent would find themselves pre-occupied with it.

Frustrated with not seeing anything through the brush, he simply stepped through.

~ Oh bollocks. To Acheron with waiting. Time to beat the children. ~
 

narayan

Explorer
Joseth, Shelladda vs. the Two Goblins

__________________________________________

<Round 4>


Bleeding Damage ( * )
Fire Damage ( # )
Cold Damage ( @ )
Spell Damage ( ^ )
Spell Healing ( ^ )
Poison Damage ( ! )

The order of initiative is:

(19) Shelladda (-3)(1 Arrow stuck in your flesh)
(3) Short Goblin
(2) Tall Goblin
__________________________________________

Both goblins get wide-eyed with concern as you shriek a war-cry and charge forward with your scimitar prompting a bellowing water buffalo to charge through the brush after you. The tall goblin appears to be protecting the shorter one and steps before you brandishing his shield as he reaches for his battle axe.

Shelladda said:
(Attack roll = 11)

Your sword strike misses! You will have to dispatch the tall goblin first to get at the short one, unless you are willing to step past the tall one and provoke attacks of opportunity?

[Shelladda: Roll initiative for Ruddah. Next round (Round 5) you will roll a new initiative as a new combatant (Ruddah) has entered the fray. Ruddah will act on your initiative next round but not this round, as his action was prompted by your yell. Also make a spot check.]

[Joseth: What do you do? As you move into the brush behind the water buffalo you glimpse a large clearing beyond the brush littered with corpses of the cattle herd and Omoro tribesman you were tracking. The slaughter is horrible to behold, ruthlessly carried out with claws, jaws and blades. You also see a lone Mgorongoron female wielding a scimitar charging two goblins.

It is difficult to ascertain much about her from behind (other than the fact she is clearly a fierce warrior) but you are fairly certain you have never seen her before and have your doubts she is a member of the Omoro tribe. She appears to have command of the buffalo, it must be hers trained to come to her aid.

You have already used a move action this round to reach the brush at this point. Roll initiative for this round which will not change for round 5.]
 

Halloween Horror For 5E

Advertisement2

Advertisement4

Top