Six From Gate Pass - Chapter 3: Shelter From The Storm

[Adjuntive]

Alric stands behind the witch watching her for signs of treachery and leaving his sword bare and ready to drive into her disgusting ichor strewn body. Though thoroughly revulsed by the creature inside it, he admires the plate armour worn by the witch. He appreciates how each of the well forged plates of steel intricately protects the wearer's body at almost every point, yet allow virtually full freedom of movement. He rememebers seeing such armour worn only by the wealthiest of cavalrymen due to its prohibitive cost in gold. Suddenly he's filled with reminiscent images of the Ragesian cavalry resplendant in their well polished steel plate, helms with full red plumes, upon their spirited black chargers, and wielding wicked looking lances strewn with red banners of Coaltongue.

He considers for a moment ordering the witch to give it up and claim it as his boon in battle, then cringes at what she might look like underneath the plate.

OOC: Bannock, if your character wants the plate, I suggest a roll-off since Alric could definitely make use of it and it's much better than the armour he currently wears. Let's say a d20, high roll wins? If not, I'll take the armour (after a thorough cleaning and having Arnir and Hrimr confirm it won't give him some disease).

 

[Bannock]

OOC: Ok! Bannock isn't so cautious about diseases. Which armor are we talking about? The masterwork breast plate I assume, not the full plate? I'm less interested in the full plate. *EDIT*: Nevermind, yeah, the full plate... I forgot I was wearing half plate.

Bannock looks over the filthy full plate, and its stink almost turns him off, until he realizes that he probably smells just as bad. He looks down at his dirt-strewn half-plate, all scratched and dented, pulled off that dead mercenary ages ago.

"Alric, if you want that armour desperately, I won't stop you, since I don't fancy needing a squire to help get me armour on in the morning, but that shield you carry already gives you a good deal of protection more than what I can muster."

OOC: I'm wearing half-plate. If Alric's armor is any worse, he should take mine.

 

[Gregor]

"There are more treasures at my home." squeals the witch, "Come, let me show you!"

[sblock="for Hrimr"]The following items register magical auras: the four glass bottles, the scroll, the spell book and the strange glass orb filled with blood. [/sblock]

 

[The Bashar]

Hrimr picks up the four glass bottles and tries to determine what they are.

"Arnir, you'll probably want the scroll and spellbook. The strange glass orb is magic as well. I don't want to touch it, but maybe you can make use of it."

 

[Gregor]

[sblock="for Hrimr"]you cannot identify the properties of any of the items [/sblock]

 

[The Bashar]

"I cannot make heads or tails of what's in these bottles. Kirio can you make out what is in them?"

 

[digimattic]

Arnir hacks and coughs up a wad of spit, rich in his crimson-red life's blood, spitting it square in the face of the surviving witch. "Don't be fools, she clearly means to lead us into a trap. Let's kill her now and be done with it."

As he looks over the bloody mess of his shirt and shoulder he turns to Hrmir and says "I have seen better days Hrmir, and could use your healing touch, but please mind your hands! Oh, and Kirio, I'd have one of those daggers."

Finally he looks over the hoard of treasures and casts read magic on the scroll and spellbook, before tearing off some cloth from a fallen witch and wrapping the ever-bloody orb in it, careful not to touch it directly. "I will identify these items tomorrow after a rest, unless Kirio fancies a try at it."

 

[The Bashar]

Hrimr begins casting and reaches out to touch Arnir's wounds. He channels positive energy into Arnir and his wounds begin to heal.

 

[Bannock]

Bannock packs up the pieces of the full plate armor. He'll wait to don the suit until there is time to clean it up and size the straps and fasteners properly.

To the surviving witch he delivers a shove with the shaft of his polearm and says gruffly, "Come on then hag, let's see this prisoner of yours. If I see any funny hand wavin', I'll take off the hand that does it."

 

[Gregor]

GM: I'll assume you've taken any items of value from the pile, such as the breastplate (which Alric indicated he would carry) and the magic items. They can be identified en route or later at your convenience. I'm just moving things along.

[sblock="for Arnir"]Arnir, the scroll contains a divine spell called cure serious wounds. The spell book contains the following arcane spells: all cantrips, burning hands, magic missile, sleep, comprehend languages, identify, detect thoughts, locate object, arcane sight, web, hideous laughter, scare, clairvoyance/clairaudience, slow, stinking cloud.[/sblock]

You pick up your items of interest and pile into your and the witches' boat. You pole through the dark swamp for a half hour, being guided by your captive who gestures and mutters which way to travel. Finally, you reach your destination.

The witches live on a broad, soggy island covered with bare-branched trees in which no birds perch. Their home is a sprawling, half-sunken cluster of five wooden shacks in the island’s center, each barely ten feet across, surrounded by a low, uneven fence.

A rotted dock stretches out from the island, and a cluster of thirteen boats float nearby or are propped up on fallen logs. The skeletons of a number of humanoids, presumably the boat’s former owners, lie along the outside of the fence in a scattering of different piles.

As your boats moor with the old dock, you see that no lights are on in any of the shacks, but a few torches and low burning fire are scattered about the yard.