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

[Tecklenburg]

Per Manbearcat
As Saerie's form disappears from sight, the sounds of growling, nipping, and yapping fills the air. Three Bird's eyes roll back into his head for a moment, channeling the sight of one of his falcons. "Huntsmen with hounds, Argoth's men, head our way."

"Quickly Saerie." My words are hushed, urgent, and aimed no where in particular. "We will handle this. Find a way to up the mountain and into position."

The dogs will surely smell us as they draw near. I'll think about what to do and get back to you.

I've thought about it. Time to save the day with some quick thinking.

In a hushed tone I'll lean into the huddled hunters and Three Bird and give them quick instructions. "Carry on as if nothing was amiss and draw them away from here if you can!" Turning to Rawr, Exel and Xanob, I'll motion toward the deep snow resting against our side of the ridge line. "Quickly, get in!"

I'll help obscure my three companions before hiding myself in the snow. I'm hoping that we can catch them unawares, ambush them, and dispatch them as quickly and quietly as possible.

[sblock]Defy Danger (Int)
1, 4 + 3 = 8

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

 

[Manbearcat]

I've thought about it. Time to save the day with some quick thinking.

In a hushed tone I'll lean into the huddled hunters and Three Bird and give them quick instructions. "Carry on as if nothing was amiss and draw them away from here if you can!" Turning to Rawr, Exel and Xanob, I'll motion toward the deep snow resting against our side of the ridge line. "Quickly, get in!"

I'll help obscure my three companions before hiding myself in the snow. I'm hoping that we can catch them unawares, ambush them, and dispatch them as quickly and quietly as possible.

[sblock]Defy Danger (Int)
1, 4 + 3 = 8

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

It goes off as you plan...save one hitch...

The hunts"men" round the final bend of their path and emerge from behind the snow-hewn walls of the carved trail. Their husky/wolves (Hybrids? Purebloods? Impossible to know.) are excitedly and doggedly (!) yanking against their leashes. They clearly have the scent of something that interests them. Two fur-wearing, imposing men and their equally imposing (and equally fur-wearing) hounds file out into the open space where you've been loitering. The third, trailing figure follows suit. Although his beast likely packs a weight fairly comparable to his own, he manages it with tenacity and youthful vigor. He is a boy no more than 12 but the nasty axe adorning his hip has surely bled a thing or two...and can do it again if necessary.

Their cloaks all bear the many-red-eyed, black sphere that is the symbol of Ranyon Argoth's Far Realm cult.

Your newly acquired allies attempt to address the men but are sharply and tersely cut off by the leader of the huntsmen. "You were instructed to be back within an hour of first light. Sending a search party after a search party is the sort of folly that weak lowlanders must stoop to. You shame us."

The word "us" comes out as more of a yelp as the large beast (the alpha of the pack to be sure) on his leash snarls and darts, dragging the man a few paces toward Rawr's "hidden" position in the heaped snow. The other man's beast quickly follows suit and he struggles to keep the leash from tearing out of his hands, his feet sliding on the frozen earth.

Good ole Rawr. He is just too damn big. Just filled with too much fury. Those dogs are a good fight and you find the snow covering him shifting slightly as his patience in the ruse begins to wear. As the master of the huntsmen perceives the oddity, he says under his breath "...what the hells..."

The 12 year old, trying desperately to restrain his now frenzying hound backs up and leans back, lowering his center of gravity and planting his bottom on the drift obscuring you from sight...literally right next to you.

You could easily put your elven knife through the (no doubt dangerous) boy's neck.

---

What are you doin' there guy?

 

[Tecklenburg]

You could easily put your elven knife through the (no doubt dangerous) boy's neck.

---

What are you doin' there guy?

He may not survive the day and he probably will turn into a monster anyway, but Otthor won't kill a child. Even with the world at stake I don't think he could do it.

Hand range, right? Can I just grab him by the neck and put an elbow up the side of his head? Deal my damage and try to knock him out.

Per Manbearcat
Yup, you can do that rather than just ouright killing him. You don't have to roll Hack & Slash. Just deal your damage, apply 1 armor, 3 HP, and we'll see what happens.

[sblock]d8 damage. 3 - 1 armor = 2 damage. Still in the fight.[/sblock]

...

Per Manbearcat
From your hidden position, your arms slither out of the snow like snakes and grasp the stout human boy around the neck. Your elbow rings his bell but the kid has some fight in him. He doesn't go down. He lets go of leash to grab your arms and thrash against you.

All hell breaks loose then.

Rawr explodes out of his position and the other two canines become a frenzy of growls, yaps, and snarls. The two men holding their leashes let go of them and draw their spears fro their backs. They level them at Rawr as he looks prepared to charge.

Suddenly Exel and Xanob appear from the snow adjacent to the two barbarians causing them to wheel and give their back up to your new allies and Three Bird.

You can't focus on keeping track of too much of what is happening there however as you're locked in a grapple with a strong, thrashing young man and his hound has turned on you and is intent on tearing your thigh open.

I’m going to put this kid to sleep while I fend off his four legged hunting friend with my armor and a boot to its mouth.

[sblock]Hack and Slash (Str) the kid
3, 4 + 0 = 7

D8 damage and counterattack on me. 4 – 1 = 3 danage. The boy is out cold.

W[2d6 + 1 for dog-wolf]. 4, 3 + 1 = 4 damage – 2 armor = 2 damage to me.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
[sblock]Dog-wolf has Forceful.[/sblock]
You either choke him out or knock him out but the boy stops struggling all the same. You stamp the canine in the face and deflect its first go at your leg, but the determined creature isn’t done yet. It barrels into the side of your knee, your fine elven chain absorbing its teeth, but causing you to collapse to the snowy ground in a heap with its toothy maw snapping at your face.

As I’m sure you can surmise, there is no chance to combine sword and spell here. You’re roughing it with either your knife or your hands. FYI ahead of time. If you do end up physically attacking the creature and roll a 7-9, your complication won’t be a counterattack. The worst case scenario here doesn’t include a threat physically to you guys. You overmatch them clearly…but what if the fight lingers for too long and interested parties inside the courtyard are alerted?

We cannot afford a protracted skirmish here that would sound the alarm. I’m going to use my Preparation from last night’s Bolster move.

I breathe steadily, focusing my warrior senses. Everything but myself and the canine ceases to exist. The rotting stench of the of the canine’s breath is all I can smell. The sound of its growling, snapping jaws are all I can hear. Its weight and movements are a puzzle that I solved long ago.

With perfect dexterity, I control its neck and one of its legs, throw my legs toward my head and wrap them up and around the creature, scissoring it in a perfect head and arm triangle. It struggles to no avail. My elven longnife, strapped to my right boot, comes free with ease. I use the creature’s heart as sheathe.

[sblock]Hack and Slash (Dex)
6, 1 + 2 (+ 1 Prep) = 10

D8 damage. 6 – 0 = 6 damage. Dead.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
The sound of the rest of the world comes back into focus as the writhing beast you are tangled with yelps and goes still. Your allies are too many and too fierce for the other four. They’re overcome, lethally, as you roll to your feet. The world is a gray, white, and red place. It goes quiet save for winter’s moaning winds.

Sort out what you’re going to do with the boy and I’ll move you forward after I handle the rest of Binks stuff.

 

[Binks]

Per Manbearcat
Your nimble feet, perfect balance and well-practiced technique serves you well. You’re exposed entirely up there with wind whipping your invisible cloak this way and that. However, the cold and the wind mean nothing to you. Nary a foot slips and nary a rock shifts under your light feet. Once you reach the face itself, your climb sideways is a pretty simple one, shimmying to your right, hand over hand, hugging the mountain. The footing is sound until you get over top of the position you need to climb down to. The descent is always more difficult and dangerous than the way up…

I take a deep, steadying breath and watch my frozen exhale dissipate. My adrenaline is pumping. Hand climbing on deadly faces has always exhilarated me, this one probably more than any other given the gravity of the stakes. If I lose a handhold...if a fissure bearing the weight of my foot fails me...

I think back to my most precarious climbs in the Feywild. The eternal summer of my homeland won't help me with the slippery ice, but lack of sound footing is something all climbers must deal with whether its loose scree, the slippery spray of a nearby waterfall, or a crumbling face. I consult the accumulated wisdom of my hard-earned experience for the answer to the slippery footing on my descent.

[sblock]Spout Lore (Int)
3, 1 + 1 = 5

Mark 1 xp[/sblock]

Gulp...

 

[Manbearcat]

Gulp...

As you invisibly cling to the sheer, icy wall, your clenched hands growing ever more weary as your mind ponders the best way down, you hear a faint noise from the slope above you and to your right. The degree of slope is much more muted there, allowing you to see further up onto the mountain. Intermittent growling, hissing, and playful chirping noises lead your eyes to a pair of world-exploring snow leopard cubs. They're batting each other, bounding and rolling toward the weak ice/snow-pack above you. If they get there...

...well, things will be bad for you...things will be bad for them. But, on the bright side, things will surely be bad for the group of sentinels directly below you as well!

So there you are, locked in a belly-to-belly embrace with the mountain, trying to slowly shimmy downwards. The drop to the landing below you is probably 40 feet (d10 damage no armor). That narrow stone landing separates the two avalanche zones and runs horizontally along the mountainside like a belt for a great fat man. It is surely to be as slick as the ridge you crossed and the fall would (1) require DD for sure death or d10- NA, and would trigger an avalanche upon you (and the bad guys).

May the shwartz be with you.

 

[Binks]

For a very brief moment I consider trying to get my bow off my back, an arrow strung, and somehow get a shot off to scare away the cubs from setting off the inevitable calamity. I quickly come to my senses. I have to get down fast and get clear of this nature's wrath that is about to set down upon me. Throwing caution to the wind, I just rely on instinct, feel, and brute strength. Grabbing every handhold and putting my foot in every fissure, no matter how precarious or unsound, I scurry down the vertical face like a spider.

[sblock]Defy Danger (Str)
6, 1 + 0 = 7

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

Per Manbearcat
You almost fall more than once in the next tense moments of your life...feet slip and handholds fail...but you don't. With the terrible sound of tons of snow, ice and rock being loosed and gaining momentum above you, your feet dangle slightly less than 10 feet from the landing when the rock gives way to nothingness. When your feet meet the stone after the short drop, you find that the narrow landing is a hell of a lot more slippery than you'd like.

And the avalanche is coming. Now.

This is the closest I've ever come to death in the entirety of my life. For a fleeting moment, I think of my loved ones and my duty. My heart is wrenched as I consider that I'll never see them again and I'll fail to fulfill my oaths. I certainly won't be able to signal Otthor as we had planned!

Sheer adrenaline throws my body into action. I find myself making a quick invocation of the primal spirit of the mountain, Stoneroot, hoping that he will protect me in my time of need. I cut toward the group on the left that Otthor was going to fireball, which would be my companions' right.

[sblock]Defy Danger (Dex)
3, 3 + 3 (+1 using my Preparation from Bolster) = 10[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
With the grace and agility of a cheetah, and perhaps some help from the mountain's spirit, your egress from certain doom is successful. Boulders smash the landing literally right behind you, sheering it like a razor might stubble from a face.

The quake of the avalanche is tremendous. It rocks the face of the mountain. It rocks the ground floor. It shakes the ground of your allies at the ridge that serves as the protective wall for this Coldland settlement.

A white powder covers everything in the courtyard of the settlement. It is thrown high into the air and disperses like ash spewn from a volcano. When it finally settles and the rumble dies to nothing, you find yourself rising from a crouch with your hand's on your head (presumably to protect from collateral) though you do not remember taking the posture.

The group in the middle is utterly destroyed under an enormous amount of snow and debris. There can be no hope for them. That cave is utterly buried. The two groups on the left and the right stand there shell-shocked for a moment until one of the men on the right shouts loudly the name of a man, likely one of the dead. He begins a trot that quickly turns into a sprint. This stirs the other men on both side from their stupor and the two groups now start to collect around the outskirts of the destruction.

I'm sure Three Bird's Falcons weren't waiting on the landing to be obliterated by the avalanche. When I spot one of them flying in the air around the disaster, I speak to them in their language so they can signal to Three Bird that I'm in position and ready. Otthor will take back his Invisibility magic shortly so I find a nearby rock or notch to obscure myself, get my bow out and string an arrow.

 

[Tecklenburg]

Well that...certainly was...something..

My heart catches in my throat when the sound of the avalanche from the upper slopes begins. This was not supposed to happen. This puts Saerie flatly in the dangerzone. It was supposed to just be a contained avalanche in the zone below her. When the entire world turns to white, I hit the deck like everyone else nearby. When the airborne powder settles on the ground I slowly rise, looking for any sign that Saerie might be alive. With the invisibility spell still protecting her, there is no chance to see her on the stone landing high above the frozen floor. Besides, much of that landing was sheered off by the avalanche anyway.

Just as I begin to make a run for the ridge and off to the right, one of Three Bird's falcons swoops in and lands on his arm. Otthor locks eyes with him as the creature delivers its message. She's alright. I exhale at length and looks over at Rawr, Lucky and the two goblins. I give them a smile and a nod to let them know that Saerie is alive.

We have to act quickly. Assuming the central path isn't ruined by the avalanche, I'm going to tell the humans to set off up the central path. If there are any scouts that we've missed, and I don't think there could be, they won't bat an eyelash at the group of them making their way up the central trail. My companions and I will wheel around along the outside of the right ridge that spills out near the, now abandoned, right cave. I'm not worried about invisibility now that those men have abandoned their post.

Once we get to * the area the spills out near the cave however, I'm going to have the rest of the stay back, crouched near the ridge, while I Invis and get in range to Fireball the gathered group. The middle group is to stay back until The Fireball goes off.

If there are any further impediments or anything that has to be dealt with, let me know. Otherwise, I'm going to assume that we're at * and the humans are nearing the end of the central trail, waiting for my Fireball.

[sblock]Cast a Spell (Int) Invisibility on me
1, 3 + 3 = 7

The spell goes off normally but you draw unwelcome attention or put yourself in a spot. The GM will tell you how.[/sblock]

Let me know what happens.


EDIT - Oh and the boy. I'm not worried about him. I'm not going to bind him or anything. We don't have time for it and I want him to be able to get off the mountain if things go poorly and the Far Realm invasion is successful. If he wakes up in a few minutes after we've left, it will likely be too late for him to make a difference in the fight to come.

 

[Manbearcat]

Once we get to * the area the spills out near the cave however, I'm going to have the rest of the stay back, crouched near the ridge, while I Invis and get in range to Fireball the gathered group. The middle group is to stay back until The Fireball goes off.

If there are any further impediments or anything that has to be dealt with, let me know. Otherwise, I'm going to assume that we're at * and the humans are nearing the end of the central trail, waiting for my Fireball.

[sblock]Cast a Spell (Int) Invisibility on me
1, 3 + 3 = 7

The spell goes off normally but you draw unwelcome attention or put yourself in a spot. The GM will tell you how.[/sblock]

Let me know what happens.

A terrible vision of an aberrant horror assails your mind's eye. Psychic backlash overwhelms you momentarily as you behold a dark, bulbous mass with many glowing red eyes. Eyes from another dimension that can see you through the momentary rift caused when you reach into the spellstorm and tear at the binding arcane fabric that separates this world from the next and all the others.

You disappear from sight as your invisibility takes hold. The involuntary tremors that wracked your mind and seized your form slowly cease as the material world before you comes back into focus.

At the site of the carnage, the two remaining warlocks seem alarmed. They immediately stop their sifting through the debris and stand. One of them loudly imparts "There are enemies in our midst..." Without a word of command, the ten men-at-arms rush outward and form up ranks, two-by-two they set up 5 mini-phalanxes as a protective perimeter. The two spellcasters climb the debris and begin invoking their patrons. A field of rubbery black tentacles begins to emerge and spread from just in front of the men-at-arms outward some thirty feet, making a secondary perimeter. The other caster seems to summon a sensor from the end of its staff. A field of divination appears, its form resembling that of the Far Realm fetish they carry and the image you saw in your moment of psychic backlash. He peers through it intensely.

What are you guys doing?

 

[Binks]

At the site of the carnage, the two remaining warlocks seem alarmed. They immediately stop their sifting through the debris and stand. One of them loudly imparts "There are enemies in our midst..." Without a word of command, the ten men-at-arms rush outward and form up ranks, two-by-two they set up 5 mini-phalanxes as a protective perimeter. The two spellcasters climb the debris and begin invoking their patrons. A field of rubbery black tentacles begins to emerge and spread from just in front of the men-at-arms outward some thirty feet, making a secondary perimeter. The other caster seems to summon a sensor from the end of its staff. A field of divination appears, its form resembling that of the Far Realm fetish they carry and the image you saw in your moment of psychic backlash. He peers through it intensely.

What are you guys doing?

The two warlocks have retreated to a defensive position on top of the heap of ice, snow and rock, right? Assuming the warlocks use their staffs with the Far Realm fetishes on the end to channel their spells, the warlock we captured did after-all, I want to pick off the warlock conjuring the field of black tentacles. Maybe I can fire an arrow into his forearm and he'll drop that staff mid-casting and shrink the area of effect of the field of tentacles?

From my hidden position behind and above my enemies, I inhale deeply, exhale, and release my strung arrow.

[sblock]Called Shot (Dex) on the warlock casting Black Tentacles
5, 5 + 3 = 13

Arms

✴ 10+: As 7-9, plus your damage.

✴ 7-9: They drop anything they’re holding.

d8 damage and he drops anything he's holding. 1 damage - 2 armor = 0 damage.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
Your arrow cuts through the air with perfect precision, screaming toward an evisceration of the Warlock's elbow. At the last moment, a warding spell manifests as an ethereal tentacle bats the arrow out of the air, splintering it into several harmless fragments. The Warlock cuts off his invocation with a startled yelp, nearly falls from his perch, and drops his staff. It clangs off the rubble and slides to the base some 10 ft below.

The field of black tentacles matures only to some 15 ft (rather than the 30 in the post above, take note Otthor).

At Far range, you are certainly out of spear throwing range. The other Warlock, in the midst of his Divination, snarls "...I've got you..." He points his staff in your direction and speaks loudly in the insane gibberish of deep speech, invokes the name Pisaethces and calls her "his queen."

You feel the air begin to thicken around you...as if an otherworldly haze is settling upon your position...

Pisaethces, eh? Ok, Ill remember that.

From recollection, the other direction is a pretty nasty climb down off the mountain to my allies. I'd be very vulnerable trying to climb in the midst of this and I need to give my allies support from up here anyway. I can't stay here obviously. Looks like he is summoning something like the aboleth mucus haze. Looking around briefly, after there any areas that I can quickly climb to so that I can get out of this haze and still be in Far range?

[sblock]Discern Realities (Wis)
4, 2 + 2 = 8

1 question and + 1 forward when acting upon it.

* What here is useful or valuable to me?[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
By descending some 40 feet, you can reach another landing that would give you some legitimate cover (+ 1 armor in case of any physical attacks against you). However, it would put you in Near Range.

You can stay in Far range by navigating the obscenely dangerous landing that you're on and continuing opposite the way you came in. The landing narrows considerably and is slick and crumbly. You would have no cover but no spears could possibly reach you there. A fall from there would literally be to the bottom - b[1d10 + 5 (no armor)].

Think about it and get back to me. I need to move Otthor and his motley crew of infantry forward.

 

[Tecklenburg]

Per Manbearcat
Your arrow cuts through the air with perfect precision, screaming toward an evisceration of the Warlock's elbow. At the last moment, a warding spell manifests as an ethereal tentacle bats the arrow out of the air, splintering it into several harmless fragments. The Warlock cuts off his invocation with a startled yelp, nearly falls from his perch, and drops his staff. It clangs off the rubble and slides to the base some 10 ft below.

The field of black tentacles matures only to some 15 ft (rather than the 30 in the post above, take note Otthor).

Noted.

I see the arrow interrupt the Warlock's spellcasting and his staff trickle to the bottom of the avalanche pile. This is our chance. I whisper to the raid force gathered behind me. Rawr and Lucky will surely follow once they begin their mad dash. "I'm going to cut a swathe right through the middle. When you see it, and you'll know what 'it' is, make your charge." With that I sprint off toward the group to get in Fireball range.

Once I get to Near, I'm unleashing a Fireball on the 15 ft of the tentacle field barrier in front of us. Is my Fireball big enough to immolate all of the tentacle field and get the two myrmidons directly next to it? "You evoke a mighty ball of flame that envelops your target and everyone nearby" My target is the center of the tentacle barrier.

Per Manbearcat
Yes sirree Bob. Should destroy all of the tentacle field between you and them (give you a clean run to engage), a nice stretch of that tentacle field on the periphery of the blast, and get those two bad guys immediately inside the barrier as well. Roll your dice.

I sprint to get in range for the Fireball, dismiss my Invisibility and bring my sword and free hand together. A word of power, a slash of my blade, and a magical gesture with my offhand later, a ball of fire streaks toward the middle of the grasping tentacles.

[sblock]Cast a Spell (Int) Fireball
6, 1 + 3 = 10

You evoke a mighty ball of flame that envelops your target and everyone nearby, inflicting 2d6 damage which ignores armor.

2, 6 = 8 damage to the two myrmidons and to the tentacle field.[/sblock]

Per Manbearcat
When your Invisibility shimmers and fades, the spear and shield-bearing warriors each assume a tighter formation and a more defensive posture. Through their helms you can faintly make out the whites of the eyes of the two nearest. They are saucers as the ball of fire erupts and a wreathing sphere of flame emanates from the epicenter.

The tentacles before you flail momentarily and disappear from whence they came. The men taken by your ball of flame writhe and scream in abject misery and horror for a moment and then lie very still. A second wave of shock sets in on the group. Death by ice. Death by fire. What a start to the day!

They recover though and the remaining 8 men rush out to fill the void created by your destructive evocation.

Invigorated by the raucous charge of my allies behind me, I sprint toward the assembling myrmidons!

Per Manbearcat
Sit tight. Need to move Binks forward.