Valley of the Dead: Chapter 1 "A gathering of heroes"

[Myth and Legend]

Vivian nods and slowly turns her gaze back to Herriman. Her features are predatorial and give off a sense of dread and lust that has nothing human in it. The Halfing, being quick of wit and sharp of eye, notices that the half filled glass pitcher next to the woman, probably left there by the previous patrons, gives off no reflection of Vivian's image. It is no mirror to be sure, but a blurred view of the fireplace and the tip of the bar are visible, as well as Vivian's empty chair.

Herriman is far from a sage of occult lore, but even he has heard the storis of Vampires and their unnatural agility, beauity and their lack of reflection. When he combines that with her ancient accent and her pale, cold skin, there is little doubt in the Halfing's mind. Meanwhile, the woman speaks with a clam tone.

"Hm... Yes you have a point. Be careful when entering the Valley though. It's not a place where one can let his guard down, even for a second. Also, there are sevral artifacts, not one. They are detailed in that booklet the Wizard obtained, but I'm not sure how you will be able to obtain it or read it. The guard - I'm sure he will not last lon where they are headed. I won't be able to..."

Vivian's voice trails off as the door swings open, and the two in question walk in, followed by a tall man with dirty blond hair, clad in full plate and with a glowing mace in his hands. His eyes shine with blue light and his attention is drawn towards the fight for the moment. Vivian makes a face as if she had eaten something sorrow, and puts her soaked red hood back up, while standing from her chair with a graceful motion. "Clerics with a taste for wine, I never did understand them. Well then, time to leave. I will be seeing you soon Herriman." the woman states with her alluring voice, blows the Halfing a kiss while smiling charmingly, and then proceeds to walk towards the staircase leading up to the rooms with haste.

***
​

Ferviel looks at Latham, squinting his eyes and clenching his jaw. "Yeah right, and I ride a pink unicorn in a dress when no one is looking. Just shut up and let's get some wine!" At the mention of wine Ferviel grins and follows inside, mace in hand, and is almost swept away by the deranged Dwarf. With clanging sounds the wounded muscular fighter parries two strikes thrown at him by what seems to be a Cleric of Helm.

Ferviel reacts immediately, eyeing the all-seeing eye of Helm on the priest's shield, and then the blood covered Half-Orc and his oppinent, who are about to slay each other in mortal combat. He reaches for a pouch on his belt, and retreieves s pair of small iron bars attached to two small canine statuettes, one black and one white. "Lathander repell thine enemy!" he shouts, while raising his hand and holding his deity's Holy Symbol. Ferviel's aura, present around every Cleric, now grows bright and extends around him for a few feet.

Nothing seems to happen but Bolgrim stands there for a moment, then tries to bash Thok's head in, but his axe jumps off an invisible wall with a thud. Seeing how it is utterly futle, he ceases his attack and breathes heavily, holding his gut wound and trying to prevent his insides from spilling on the floor. He drops his axe as his left hand is obviously numb, as Thok's last attack almost lobbed it off. The Dwarf breathes heavily and laughs, blood clogging his throat. "GOOD FIGHT ORC MAN! GOOD FIGHT!"

It seems that in the far end of the room, the other Dwarves are being scolded by an angry female Paladin with curly blond hair, while the two human warriors stopped their fight with a Dwarf, still staggering on his feet and obviously drunk beyond reason.

[sblock=Spellcraft, DC 22]Ferviel casts Repulsion.[/sblock]

[sblock]Bolgrim failed his Will save vs the spell, but got a 19 and ended his Frenzy willingly.[/sblock]

 

[Dragonwriter]

“Curious… Very curious,” Herriman says to himself in a hushed tone. His eyes follow Vivian as she goes up the stairs, mind slowly pondering the question of vampirism. It would certainly explain her knowledge of redemption, he thinks as he turns in his chair, away from the stairs and towards the entrance and the fighting, now ended. He chuckles quietly as he sees it is a priest that ended the fight, and with both fighters badly in need of one’s healing.

Then his eyes catch on the Wizard again. They narrow to slits as a smirk crosses his face. The gods are granting me another chance, it would seem. Well, Herriman, best not let it go to waste, goes through his mind as he concentrates on his target.

 

[Voda Vosa]

Suddenly, all the tension in Thoks muscles fade away, he almost falls, managing to support himself with his greatsword in the last moment. He raises a hand, covered in blood, towards the dwarf. "You be great warrior. Thok respects you dwarf." Thok's eyes blink, and then he crumbles to the floor, ending up seated on the blood bathed wooden planks. His greatsword falls next to him. His heavy breath makes his musculed body moves constantly. "Thok sleepy. Needs rest...." and the half orc starts slowly to fade away...

OOC: Thok will be in negative HP soon unless someone heals him before his Rage ends.

 

[ethandrew]

Latham stands back as the two combatants slowly fade away, either to the recesses of the room or to their own, pointless death. Keht stands directly behind the wizard, near a head taller, shrouded in his hooded cloak. The young enchanter moves beside the cleric, careful to avoid the pools of blood. "Mighty powerful spell you cast there, just to save the likes of these two," Latham said casually. "I'll be seated over there," he finished with a point to an empty table nearby. Meanwhile, Keht scans the crowd, with almost all eyes on Ferviel and the two wounded fighters, save for one smirking halfling, staring directly at Latham.

Keht's Spot Check scanning the room: 24.

 

[HolyMan]

Helping Thok to a nearby chair Kye takes and lays his hand on the half-orcs shoulder. "Thy day has proven fruitful, noble warrior. First the defeat of The White Lady. And now the test of arms against a savage berzerker. Let the Hand of Helm help and reward you."

Saying a silent prayer to The Viligant One to heal his new friends wounds Kye stands behind the half-orc and address the room. "All cheer Thok the Mighty! All cheer Thok the Bold!"

[sblock=actions]
Cast to cures on Thok for a total of + 46 hp
Roll Lookup
[/sblock]

[sblock=stats]
HP: 72/72
AC: 23 T:11 FF: 22
Speed: 20'
Init: +1
Fort: +7
Reflex: +3
Will: +9 [/sblock]

[sblock=spells]
0 level: Create Water, Detect Magic, Detect Magic, Mending, Purify Food and Drink, Read Magic
1 level: Bless, Bless, Cure Light Wounds(1d8+5), Divine Favor, Shield of Faith, d= Enlarge Person
2 level: Bull's Strength, Spiritual Weapon, Make Whole, Remove Paralysis, d= Bull's Strength
3 level: Prayer, Cure Serious Wounds(3d8+8), Invisiblity Purge, Dispel Magic, d= Protection from Energy
4 level: Divine Power, Magic Weapon;Greater, d= Spell Immunity

Turn undead = 11/11
Protictuve ward = 1/1
Feat of strength = 1/1
Metamagic rod = 2/3 [/sblock][/QUOTE]

 

[Myth and Legend]

In reply to Latham's remark, Ferviel stares at him and replies with a blunt tone: "Of course I do. The people of Angelwatch are my flock, after all. Plus I expect there will be retribution for my efforts, both towards my person and towards the Temple." He then turns and walks over to Bolgrim, staring him down and gripping his mace with whitened knuckles. Dawnbringer Ferviel makes a face as if he had eaten something bad, which is his usual way of expressing how annoyed he is. "You thrice-cursed, POX RIDDEN, short-legged barrel of sour ale! - the Cleric angrily growls at the bloodied and mangled Dwarf before him. The tavern suddenly quiets down, as it is obvious Ferviel's words hold their weight in Angelwatch. - How many times will you start your CRAP in this fine establishment? Haven't I told you enough times to steer clear of the newcommers?!"

Ferviel seems angry, a vein on his neck is throbbing with blood, but he keeps still, mace in hand and Lathander's aura shining around him. On the other hand, Bolgrim does the more practical thing and drops to the floor, gasping for air as he coughs out a large puddle of blood, spittle and stomache fluid on the Cleric's mail clad boots. Ferviel growls with frustration and backs one step away, as he continues talking:

"The price for my spells is coming out from your pocket! And my wine tonight. And the Half-Orc's wine as well. - Ferviel grins wickedly as Blogrim raises his gaze with frustration, but unable to respond with more than wheezing and coughing. - And tell Jared that I want you and your boys to report in battle gear and equipped for a two week campaign first thing in the morning. Be at the Cathedral tomorrow at first bell, or we will have words again."

That last part obviously did not sound very nice to Bolgrim, who harrumphed but nodded slowly. With that, Ferviel leans down and with a shine of gold coloured energy, he bestows a healing enchantment on the battered Dwarf. The priest then proceeds to approach Thok, examining his semi healed wounds with an approving stare, and nodding to Kye.

"Good work Helmite! I trust you will forego the animocity Helm feels towards Lathander, and leave the Godly business to the Gods. I was needing a good Cleric to help me with the upcoming fight."

Ferviel leans over Thok and slaps his cheek, waking the Half Orc and grinning at him. "You're a big guy aren't you. You'll be fine! Let me help you get strong enough to lift up your mug though!"

Another touch of Ferviel's hands and the dawn on his armour glowing once again. Thok soon feels his muscles tightening and the wounds closing with a strong tingling sensation.

"So that's that! Now since Bolgrim has been so kind as to buy us dinner - a quick glance at the retreating Dwarf makes him reluctantly take off the purse hanging on his belt and throw it over to the Cleric. - We can join the smart arse Wizard over there - he points towards Latham. - and his lackey."

Meanwhile the back door bursts open, and in comes Merry leading Bran Bloodmane, who has his axe drawn with a wild look in his eye. "Where are they miss Merry I'll carve them up good!" he shouts with his loud voice, only to find himself staring at a quiet room, with Bolgrim stubbornly staring at the table, as he has resumed his position.

Merry glares at Thok and Kye apologetically, but at the inkeeper's request, she gets a rag and a bucket of water, and starts cleaning the blood off the wooden floor. Gradually, the conversations around the tavern resume, and Ferviel, Kye, Thok (who is healing with miraculous speed), Latham and Keht all sit at the same table, while Bran, Adelaide and her two escorts return to their own table, now occupied by a lone Halfing. The monk leans in, and whispers something to Latham, then resumes his position of standing guard next to the table.

[sblock=Latham]"Our tail from before is here."[/sblock]

Herriman notices that the Wizard's bodyguard ever vigilant eyes linger on him for a moment, and narrow slightly as they recognize his still wet clothes.

He is soon faced with a curly blond female Paladin, the large axe-wielding man from before, and two men who seem to know their way around a sword. "This was our table before the violence ensued, but feel free to share it with us. My name is Adelaide Swiftblade, a Paladin of Lathander, and this is Bran Bloodmane, the local woodsman and Ranger. These fine men besides men are Alevyth Balwer and Sensalar, both eager to join our holy mission of extermination!"

The woman's voice is clear and pleasant, and her face resembles that of a porclelain doll - delicate and gorgeous. However, between the impossibly enchanting Vivian, and the surprisingly pretty (and busty) servant girl, the Paladin seems a bit closer to the ordinary, even if she would otherwise be considered a beauty.

[sblock=Spellcraft DC 20]Ferviel casts Greater Vigor x 2. Thok has Fast Healing 4 until the end of the duration.[/sblock]

 

[Voda Vosa]

"Thok great warrior" replied the half unconscious halforc to Kye, before the healing were impaired to him.

After the clerics did their magic tricks, Thok felt better. Better and happy. He sits at the table anxiously, like a child about to get a piece of cake; looking around and watching (and smelling) everyone present. Apparently in this town a deadly and glorious battle could be have in the simplest place like a tavern. It was fantastic! And now these people would buy him wine, whatever it was.
When Merry gets near, he tries to call her attention. "See Merry, Thok fine, no hurts. Thok and Kye great warriors, defeated angry dwarf."

 

[Dragonwriter]

Herriman curses mentally as the bodyguard sees him. But he doesn’t turn away, just merely shifts his gaze, focusing on another patron for a moment. I’ve got to find some way to get rid of that tall one before I can do anything… Maybe Vivian’s prediction will be right and he’ll be killed in the Valley.

As the paladins sit down, Herriman grows a little anxious. He never did like the holy warriors, always nosing around other people’s business. Hesitantly, he says, “Herriman. Pleasure.”

 

[ethandrew]

Latham leans into Keht and hears his githzerai words, the language built exclusively on metaphors. His eyes follow Keht's instruction and fall upon a table with an attractive woman, a large outdoorsy type, another warrior, a halfling, and that silly boy from the temple square. "Interesting," Latham muses to himself. Not being rude, Latham lifts his new glass of free wine, and gestures to the half-orc, "You have very lovely innards," he manages to say, trying to keep a straight face. What does one say to some savage beast who nearly died moments before all for naught?

 

[Voda Vosa]

"Thok don't know what innards are, but if they are lovely, that must be good." The orc raises his mug quickly, spilling some wine, and drinks it in a gulp, before cleaning his mouth with his forearm.