Centurion had just caught up with the group. “Good to see you made it.” Arora jests, “we were beginning to wonder.” Centurion then stops the group like a bunch of mercenaries and starts addressing them. Arora simply shakes her head a bit and leans over toward Mock and whispers “I thought we were under cover this time... why is he addressing us here in the middle of the street?” Oh the wonder of this leader we have, it’s amazing that we’ve all made it this far.
The group enters the cathedral and is ushered to there seats, not being one who likes to sit in the open, she follows in last as to sit in o e of the side seats. As the speaker starts droning on about the fire, the crackling, and wars she notices that Daewen is using her usual excuse to get up and check things out. After a few minutes Arora leans over to Zhi, who’s sitting next to her, and whispers “I’m going to go check on Daewen, she’s been gone for a while now.” This was fairly typical of the group as a few would observe from a different angle to ensure the safety of the whole.
perception inside: 14
As Arora leaves to ‘find Daewen’ she takes note of everything she can - number of windows, possible escape routes, enter way, height of the ceiling, other rooms or hallways, the usual fair. She pulls her fur lined coat around her as she steps outside to investigate further. She takes a moment to breathe in the cool crisp air and then acts as though she is taking a stroll around the building, but will attempt to be as stealthy as possible. She checks for anything out of the ordinary and making note of any additional entrances or courtyards.
Stealth: 25
Perceprion outside: 10
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D 5E BEYOND: Ada- Sorceress /Isa- Sorceress / Naris - Oathbreaker Paladin CYBERPUNK RED DISCORD: Isa - Solo 5 / Angel- Solo 5 / Faun- Tech 5 / Raja - Nomad 5 PATHFINDER 2e DISCORD: Crystal - Sorceress
Nephvir holds his legs, starts rubbing them, says "Cramp" so that folks sitting around him hear it, he stands and starts walking, goes to the back of the cathedral and turns to the left. In the back, away from the fire, he fits into the shadows, staying still in the back corner, standing and appearing reverent for any who might be able to see him.
Well, it didn't look like they would be splitting up in pairs like Doc had said to do. She decided not to worry too much, he would issue additional instructions later. As they were ushered into the cathedral a sense of peace fell over her despite the danger of the situation. She was reminded of her home temple which she hadn't been back to in years. The stone walls, the gleam from the polished wood, the murmur of the crowd all gave her a feeling of comfort. Sitting down with a big sigh, she turns her attention to the villager answering Kasha. "Oh! How wonderful that you commune with your spirits!"They are such an important part of our lives!" She gushes. Noting her fellow companions leaving to canvas the building Raza continues with the villager. "Please, can you tell me how the ceremony goes? What can we expect to see tonight? How long does it go?" While her motive is to gather information, her tail gives away her sincere interest as it flicks back and forth in excitement.
Arora:As you leave the building, you are given very strange looks from the villagers, as if your action itself is considered blasphemous. "Where are you going?" a villager asks with much surprise as you leave. By the door, the mayor asks you, "We are about to start! No one must leave once inside. Please return to your seat." Should you listen, all will be well. Should you disobey, a point of Chaos is generated.
Kasha had a confused look on her face. She whispered into Raza's ear. "Why are they getting up? Oh, that's right! We were supposed to split in twos! Doc's gonna be mad."
RAZA: "Please, can you tell me how the ceremony goes? What can we expect to see tonight? How long does it go?" "It's beginning! Look!" a villager says, excited.
Juriendor, the High Priest, a young acolyte dressed in furs and plate descends a staircase near the front gates, walking through the crowd towards the flaming altar. People turn to him with broad smiles, but as they do they twist away from the firelight and their faces fall into shadow. Juriendor appears on the stairway, moving toward the front of the cathedral, his face lit up - as the gaze of the congregation follows him, the individual faces become equally illuminated. He is dressed in ceremonial armor, it's sheen there for all to see. One of the townsfolk calls out, "Guide us through the Darkness so that there may be Light!" Others begins to shout phrases such as, "Juriendor! Please guide us!" and "Protect us from the Dark Wood devils! Bestow us with Light!"
In front of the fire, Juriendor speaks.
"Greetings, and welcome to the Vigil of Light. To be safe from the Darkness, please stay inside the cathedral. At this hour, dangers abound outside. We will speak once the Moonshard has given us it's dawn."
Mock settles into the crowded cathedral with an odd ease. She's never been one for praying, but she always enjoys being around people. Finding a seat nearer the back and at the end of a bench is a necessity, and she's more than willing to use her bulk as an excuse to get people to move for her. With a chagrined smile, she settles into a seat at the end of a bench, trying not to shove off the people next to her. "Lemme know if I get in your way, alright?" she murmurs to them. "I know I can take up a lotta space."
She shifts a bit, mainly so she can kick her feet out and get comfortable. Perk of being on the end near the aisle. The other perk is that she can get up and out of the crowd should a fight become necessary. And, gods, she's hoping it becomes necessary. She hasn't cracked any skulls in a few days now.
Listen, she knows she's mostly the muscle of the group. She's not here to do the thinking or the planning. So she lets the others take point surveying the area and chooses to relax until a fight occurs. Crossing her arms over her chest, she lets her red eyes droop close almost sleepily. Every so often, she lifts her head, counts out each of her party members that she can see, then settles back in.
Arora: As you leave the building, you are given very strange looks from the villagers, as if your action itself is considered blasphemous. "Where are you going?" a villager asks with much surprise as you leave. By the door, the mayor asks you, "We are about to start! No one must leave once inside. Please return to your seat." Should you listen, all will be well. Should you disobey, a point of Chaos is generated.
“I’m so sorry” she replies, “I was just checking on my friend to make sure she was ok. I was just concerned for her, that’s all.” Arora decides it’s best to obey rather than make a scene and nonchalantly returns to her seat. Wow, she thinks. These folks are really uptight about this ceremony.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D 5E BEYOND: Ada- Sorceress /Isa- Sorceress / Naris - Oathbreaker Paladin CYBERPUNK RED DISCORD: Isa - Solo 5 / Angel- Solo 5 / Faun- Tech 5 / Raja - Nomad 5 PATHFINDER 2e DISCORD: Crystal - Sorceress
Once at the front of the cathedral, Juriendor pulls a long wooden torch from a wall and uses the large brazier on the plinth to set it alight. It momentarily glows as brightly as daylight, and everyone within the hall appears warm and comforted. The High Priest chants a prayer, and all of the villagers join him. It sounds complex, a drone of intertwining ideas that seem more suited to a shaman than a clergyman. After long minutes pass, the chant fades and a silence hangs heavy in the air. Then, Juriendor unclips a small wooden box from the back of his armor. The box is finely carved and looks quite old and worn.
As he slowly lifts the lid, a dark gray stone begins to shine like starlight, followed by a pulsing blue-yellow glow which envelopes his face. Children in the crowd gasp and call out, "The Moonshard!" but they're hushed quickly as the High Priest raises the small glowing rock carefully from the box. Holding it high for all to see, he begins to call out words in a mystic language. With each powerful word, the Moonshard grows brighter, the air humming with energy. The crowd of villagers part as Juriendor walks the aisle, continuing the ceremony.
Suddenly, almost as if part of the ritual, the doors to the cathedral burst open and the ceremonial gates rattle wildly in the blast. Two men - weapons on their backs and dressed in battered armor - stagger into the room, each carrying a badly injured individual.
"Help us, please! We require healing and our friends are at death's door! The evils of the Dark Wood are too many, too foul. Another ally outside is turned to stone, yet I dare say that no one within these walls would fancy to face what lurks without!"
The ceremony pauses. With the clerics and Juriendor in the front, you all are closer to the wounded men, and they need assistance. What do you do?
Continuing to blend in with the crowd, Daewen chooses to follow the lead of the crowd and doesn't take any actions until she see what they're going to do...she is unsure if this is a part of the ceremony, or a real individual who needs help. Either way, it's not what she was hired here for, so she'll wait until those pesky Drow show up to reveal herself.
“As for me it is simple, stick them with the pointy end. That is pretty much it. I hope to be able to use my skills to find them and dispense with them quickly and quietly. As for you.... whatever you can do, perhaps use your skills to... burn them up? I would like you to warm yourself over their roasted bodies. I am sure you will have different methods than the rest of us.”
Zhisshikassa tilts his head to one side and unblinkingly stares towards Nephvir for an uncomfortable period of time before answering. "While disposing of bodies through combustion is inefficient and quite conspicuous, the suggestion will be considered," he rasps, voice drawn more thin by the extended period of time in subzero temperatures. He mirrors the polite nod Nephvir offered before slowly blinking for the first time in minutes. Evidently, any humor or sarcasm embedded within the phrase fell on deaf ears.
"I'm so glad to see you here Zhi, your skills are most valuable in these 'excursions' and I'm sure you will prove to be an asset once again." She helps pull his falling coat back up onto his shoulders "Are you warm enough?" she asks a bit concerned "It is dreadfully cold out."
“I’m going to go check on Daewen, she’s been gone for a while now.”
After his usual, initial flinch at being unexpectedly touched, he reluctantly accepts the aid in wrapping yet another shawl to warm his frozen bones. Arora had a useful set of skills, sure, but she had one flaw - she worried about people too much. She cared. Zhi has long since abandoned what he considers useless hope. Allies are allies - some are meant to die. The feeling Zhi gained from Arora's personality is she would endanger the entire group to save the life of one. And to Zhi, the thought is deeply disturbing. "Ensure Daewen is safe," Zhi hisses, muttering something under his breath. A coil of magical energy loops around Arora as Zhi pulls the strings of fate to favor her direction - Guidance. He casts a dismissive look towards Arora before returning to his own mind.
“Aww, appreciate that, Zhi. Knew I was growin’ on ya.”
Zhi casts a look down in disdain - one of his spotless, black cloaks was soaked in the remnants of a spill earned from regaining his balance. He attempts to flick his hands in an effort to dry them, but finds his muscles too frozen to generate enough momentum. He snarls softly under his breath before swiveling his crimson pupils to regard Mock. He looks her up and down and attempts to judge whether or not she has gained enough muscle to have 'grown'. "I do not pretend to understand why you have grown on me, but I can certainly see you have gained physical mass," he hoarsely muses, beginning the walk to the cathedral side-by-side with Mock. Not because Zhi liked her, though - but because she had the best chance of carrying him away should he suddenly keel over from the cold.
ZHI: "I did not seek to encourage your enthusiasm. Fine - I digress. I only hope for you to survive the night. As someone who is entirely dispatched from enthusiasm itself, I recommend forgoing it for the sake of safety,"Zhi recommends. "You got it, there, toots!"she salutes, trying to hold back a snorting laugh. Kasha had indeed survived many a night, and appreciated the advice that she'd never take.
Zhi opens his unhinged jaw to ask for the definition of 'toots' before he remembered who he was talking to. He exhales a long sigh, steam billowing from under his cowl in a steady stream as the hissing sigh continues. "I believe only Centurion is capable of rivaling your...imprecise method of approaching missions," he softly snarls, eyes fixed in a firm glare at the only just-arriving Doc. Some people didn't know how to follow a schedule, apparently. Or a plan.
Upon arrival to the cathedral, the sight of a warm fire drew Zhisshikassa's attention like a moth to a lamp. Fighting the embarrassing urge to bask like a lizard in front of the entire assembly, Zhisshikassa only stalks forwards to seat himself near Mock and the cluster of villagers closest to the plinth. In an effort to judge how magical the place was - and possibly detect any form of invisible infiltration or creatures nearby - Zhi ritually casts Detect Magic and will have it constantly on for the foreseeable future. His interest piques at the Moonshard's display. It was clearly magical - he would need to study this town on off missions more often. Why couldn't it be warmer?
As the ceremony is interrupted, Zhi instantly locks eyes on Doc to tend to the injured - but something else interests him. He swivels towards Mock and whispers a low, hissing warning. If I had to guess, this is a distraction from a true attack. He rises from his seat and casts a glance around - attempting to discern any sort of magic - and begins to speak. "What evils lurk outside? Do they have intentions of interrupting the ceremony?" he rasps, voice dull and monotone. At the same time, he wracks his knowledgeable brain about any monsters in the area which are known for turning people into stone. Medusas, Gorgons...all of them lived in the jungle. Something this north? Doubtful.
Could he make a check to guess what creatures that frequent the area are capable of turning people into stones?
Nephvir is at the rear corner of the cathedral. After the men come in wounded and everyone gathers around, he takes the opportunity to stick close to the wall and make his way to the door, peering around the corner Scooby Doo style into the night, looking for movement, hostiles.
"Hmm, yes, I agree." Raza's face reflects her puzzlement as she watches the proceedings. Ceremonies should not be theater performances in her opinion. She jumps when the door bursts open, taking in the scene but something is off here, that was very coincidental. She watches Juriendor to judge his reaction.
Kasha gasps, looking at the wounded, and nearly trips over herself in empathy climbing over the villagers in the pews and then walks carefully over to the injured men, looking them over. "Oh, my! They ARE hurt!"she calls out.
Zhi barely bothers to give the injured villagers a glance and instead wracks his brain for anything he knows about local wildlife and creatures that transfigure or petrify others.
Upon hearing Zhi’s warning, Mock gives a little nod and rises to her feet. Time for some action, then. She sees Kasha bound right over to the injured lot and follows almost immediately. A hand rests on Kasha’s shoulder as Mock leans in, too, trying to distinguish what exactly has happened to these men. (Also to pull the rambunctious one back behind her, just in case.)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Myharl has been heavily wounded by an animal - seems to be caused by some sort of giant rat. Goldsneezer is unconscious and has failed one death saving throw. He's been injured by magic. He needs a heal immediately. Hawthorne has some sort of poison in his veins. He is struggling to stay conscious and looks pale. Warstriker is mortally wounded. Hs is unconscious and has failed two death saving throws. He is riddled with small, serrated cuts. He needs a heal immediately.
There is one other person outside, as mentioned, who was turned to stone.
Medicine: 7 Nature: 9
Kasha, being the affectionate, empathetic type that she is, cannot really figure out what's wrong with these adventurers, but looks imploringly at you all to do something. "We need to help them!"she says. "Should I heal them?"
Hearing a call from behind them, Mock turns around to see the last member of their little group. Her pointed teeth flash as she beams widely. “Hey, Doc, ya made it! We were startin' to get worried!”
CENTURION: "Glad to see we've all been assigned to the same 'task' again. I'm assuming you all read the briefing but as reminder we're here to watch, be discreet and intervene should that prove necessary. Understood? And to do that, it means splitting up. Kasha, pay attention." At this, Kasha jerked from playing with Raza's tail, and stood straight, looking off in the distance and trying to look serious. "Split in two!"
NEP: Nephvir pauses to listen to Doc's description and instructions. He holds up his hand for a question. "Doc, good to see you, as always. Are we using codenames this time? What about aliases? Are you going to take the name Harry Ballsack or Lee Key Bum again? Ben Dover? What should our names be?" He holds a completely straight face. Kasha snorted so loud, her entire composure crumbled.
Centurion had just caught up with the group. “Good to see you made it.” Arora jests, “we were beginning to wonder.” Centurion then stops the group like a bunch of mercenaries and starts addressing them. Arora simply shakes her head a bit and leans over toward Mock and whispers “I thought we were under cover this time... why is he addressing us here in the middle of the street?” Oh the wonder of this leader we have, it’s amazing that we’ve all made it this far.
Before he could respond to Mock or Arora, he was interrupted by Nephvir's juvenile response. Questioning once again how he ended up here, he sighed softly to himself as he scratched at his head before saying, "Let's all just move ahead shall we? And try and split up if you can..."
Once at the front of the cathedral, Juriendor pulls a long wooden torch from a wall and uses the large brazier on the plinth to set it alight. It momentarily glows as brightly as daylight, and everyone within the hall appears warm and comforted. The High Priest chants a prayer, and all of the villagers join him. It sounds complex, a drone of intertwining ideas that seem more suited to a shaman than a clergyman. After long minutes pass, the chant fades and a silence hangs heavy in the air. Then, Juriendor unclips a small wooden box from the back of his armor. The box is finely carved and looks quite old and worn.
As he slowly lifts the lid, a dark gray stone begins to shine like starlight, followed by a pulsing blue-yellow glow which envelopes his face. Children in the crowd gasp and call out, "The Moonshard!" but they're hushed quickly as the High Priest raises the small glowing rock carefully from the box. Holding it high for all to see, he begins to call out words in a mystic language. With each powerful word, the Moonshard grows brighter, the air humming with energy. The crowd of villagers part as Juriendor walks the aisle, continuing the ceremony.
Ushered inside to the Cathedral, Centurion slowly separated himself from the group, sitting a few pews back from the bulk of the squad. As he sat, he spent a few moments examining the architecture of the Cathedral before paying attention as the priest and congregation began the ritual related to the Vigil of Light. He couldn't quite grasp what exactly the townsfolk of Rybalka were chanting, but he did his best to blend in, mumbling along and moving his lips to seem like a local. When the High Priest Juriendor pulled out the Moonshard, the glowing blue-yellow stone caught his eye immediately - and apparently his patron's too as he felt the slightest ping from them tugging at his senses. Making a mental note to add the stone to his report - and maybe do a little research on it later as well - once the mission was complete, Centurion strained he ears to see if he recognized the language that the man was now chanting in. (OOC: Doc can speak Celestial, Abyssal & Undercommon in case it happens to be one of those languages)
Suddenly, almost as if part of the ritual, the doors to the cathedral burst open and the ceremonial gates rattle wildly in the blast. Two men - weapons on their backs and dressed in battered armor - stagger into the room, each carrying a badly injured individual.
"Help us, please! We require healing and our friends are at death's door! The evils of the Dark Wood are too many, too foul. Another ally outside is turned to stone, yet I dare say that no one within these walls would fancy to face what lurks without!"
The ceremony pauses. With the clerics and Juriendor in the front, you all are closer to the wounded men, and they need assistance. What do you do?
When the doors burst open, Doc had expected a band of Drow to rush in to steal the Moonshard or cause some other sort of trouble. Instead he was surprised to see what looked like wounded soldiers or adventurers enter the building and warn - or scare - the mass of an impending doom. If he only knew the true horrors out there, Doc thought to himself as he rose from his seat and remembered some of D2's past missions "fondly".
"Let me take a look at them!" Centurion announced to the men as he made his way over to them. He was pleased to see that at least of few of them - whether through insubordination or foresight - stayed put and remained hidden within the crowd. "Hold on you two, let me see what we're dealing with..." he told to Mock and Kasha before beginning a hasty examination. Doing a simple triage, he quickly went to work on the two with mortal wounds, drafting Mock and Kasha to assist him as he used his remaining medical supplies to save the dying men from an early death. Once he was satisfied that was accomplished for the time being, he began giving a more thorough review of the two who were still conscious. As he worked, he asked, "Tell me how you all received these wounds? They don't seem to all be from the seem source?"
Medicine: 18
Nature: 13
Using (2) uses of Healer's kit (via the Healer Feat) to heal the two in most need of saving.
Healer:
You are an able physician, allowing you to mend wounds quickly and get your allies back in the fight. You gain the following benefits:
When you use a healer's kit to stabilize a dying creature, that creature also regains 1 hit point.
As an action, you can spend one use of a healer's kit to tend to a creature and restore 1d6 + 4 hit points to it, plus additional hit points equal to the creature's maximum number of Hit Dice. The creature can't regain hit points from this feat again until it finishes a short or long rest.
Centurion had just caught up with the group. “Good to see you made it.” Arora jests, “we were beginning to wonder.” Centurion then stops the group like a bunch of mercenaries and starts addressing them. Arora simply shakes her head a bit and leans over toward Mock and whispers “I thought we were under cover this time... why is he addressing us here in the middle of the street?” Oh the wonder of this leader we have, it’s amazing that we’ve all made it this far.
The group enters the cathedral and is ushered to there seats, not being one who likes to sit in the open, she follows in last as to sit in o e of the side seats. As the speaker starts droning on about the fire, the crackling, and wars she notices that Daewen is using her usual excuse to get up and check things out. After a few minutes Arora leans over to Zhi, who’s sitting next to her, and whispers “I’m going to go check on Daewen, she’s been gone for a while now.” This was fairly typical of the group as a few would observe from a different angle to ensure the safety of the whole.
perception inside: 14
As Arora leaves to ‘find Daewen’ she takes note of everything she can - number of windows, possible escape routes, enter way, height of the ceiling, other rooms or hallways, the usual fair. She pulls her fur lined coat around her as she steps outside to investigate further. She takes a moment to breathe in the cool crisp air and then acts as though she is taking a stroll around the building, but will attempt to be as stealthy as possible. She checks for anything out of the ordinary and making note of any additional entrances or courtyards.
Stealth: 25
Perceprion outside: 10
D&D 5E BEYOND: Ada - Sorceress / Isa - Sorceress / Naris - Oathbreaker Paladin
CYBERPUNK RED DISCORD: Isa - Solo 5 / Angel - Solo 5 / Faun - Tech 5 / Raja - Nomad 5
PATHFINDER 2e DISCORD: Crystal - Sorceress
Nephvir holds his legs, starts rubbing them, says "Cramp" so that folks sitting around him hear it, he stands and starts walking, goes to the back of the cathedral and turns to the left. In the back, away from the fire, he fits into the shadows, staying still in the back corner, standing and appearing reverent for any who might be able to see him.
Well, it didn't look like they would be splitting up in pairs like Doc had said to do. She decided not to worry too much, he would issue additional instructions later. As they were ushered into the cathedral a sense of peace fell over her despite the danger of the situation. She was reminded of her home temple which she hadn't been back to in years. The stone walls, the gleam from the polished wood, the murmur of the crowd all gave her a feeling of comfort. Sitting down with a big sigh, she turns her attention to the villager answering Kasha. "Oh! How wonderful that you commune with your spirits!" They are such an important part of our lives!" She gushes. Noting her fellow companions leaving to canvas the building Raza continues with the villager. "Please, can you tell me how the ceremony goes? What can we expect to see tonight? How long does it go?" While her motive is to gather information, her tail gives away her sincere interest as it flicks back and forth in excitement.
Arora: As you leave the building, you are given very strange looks from the villagers, as if your action itself is considered blasphemous. "Where are you going?" a villager asks with much surprise as you leave. By the door, the mayor asks you, "We are about to start! No one must leave once inside. Please return to your seat." Should you listen, all will be well. Should you disobey, a point of Chaos is generated.
Kasha had a confused look on her face. She whispered into Raza's ear. "Why are they getting up? Oh, that's right! We were supposed to split in twos! Doc's gonna be mad."
RAZA: "Please, can you tell me how the ceremony goes? What can we expect to see tonight? How long does it go?"
"It's beginning! Look!" a villager says, excited.
Juriendor, the High Priest, a young acolyte dressed in furs and plate descends a staircase near the front gates, walking through the crowd towards the flaming altar. People turn to him with broad smiles, but as they do they twist away from the firelight and their faces fall into shadow. Juriendor appears on the stairway, moving toward the front of the cathedral, his face lit up - as the gaze of the congregation follows him, the individual faces become equally illuminated. He is dressed in ceremonial armor, it's sheen there for all to see. One of the townsfolk calls out, "Guide us through the Darkness so that there may be Light!" Others begins to shout phrases such as, "Juriendor! Please guide us!" and "Protect us from the Dark Wood devils! Bestow us with Light!"
In front of the fire, Juriendor speaks.
"Greetings, and welcome to the Vigil of Light. To be safe from the Darkness, please stay inside the cathedral. At this hour, dangers abound outside. We will speak once the Moonshard has given us it's dawn."
Mock settles into the crowded cathedral with an odd ease. She's never been one for praying, but she always enjoys being around people. Finding a seat nearer the back and at the end of a bench is a necessity, and she's more than willing to use her bulk as an excuse to get people to move for her. With a chagrined smile, she settles into a seat at the end of a bench, trying not to shove off the people next to her. "Lemme know if I get in your way, alright?" she murmurs to them. "I know I can take up a lotta space."
She shifts a bit, mainly so she can kick her feet out and get comfortable. Perk of being on the end near the aisle. The other perk is that she can get up and out of the crowd should a fight become necessary. And, gods, she's hoping it becomes necessary. She hasn't cracked any skulls in a few days now.
Listen, she knows she's mostly the muscle of the group. She's not here to do the thinking or the planning. So she lets the others take point surveying the area and chooses to relax until a fight occurs. Crossing her arms over her chest, she lets her red eyes droop close almost sleepily. Every so often, she lifts her head, counts out each of her party members that she can see, then settles back in.
Arora: As you leave the building, you are given very strange looks from the villagers, as if your action itself is considered blasphemous. "Where are you going?" a villager asks with much surprise as you leave. By the door, the mayor asks you, "We are about to start! No one must leave once inside. Please return to your seat." Should you listen, all will be well. Should you disobey, a point of Chaos is generated.
“I’m so sorry” she replies, “I was just checking on my friend to make sure she was ok. I was just concerned for her, that’s all.” Arora decides it’s best to obey rather than make a scene and nonchalantly returns to her seat. Wow, she thinks. These folks are really uptight about this ceremony.
D&D 5E BEYOND: Ada - Sorceress / Isa - Sorceress / Naris - Oathbreaker Paladin
CYBERPUNK RED DISCORD: Isa - Solo 5 / Angel - Solo 5 / Faun - Tech 5 / Raja - Nomad 5
PATHFINDER 2e DISCORD: Crystal - Sorceress
Once at the front of the cathedral, Juriendor pulls a long wooden torch from a wall and uses the large brazier on the plinth to set it alight. It momentarily glows as brightly as daylight, and everyone within the hall appears warm and comforted. The High Priest chants a prayer, and all of the villagers join him. It sounds complex, a drone of intertwining ideas that seem more suited to a shaman than a clergyman. After long minutes pass, the chant fades and a silence hangs heavy in the air. Then, Juriendor unclips a small wooden box from the back of his armor. The box is finely carved and looks quite old and worn.
As he slowly lifts the lid, a dark gray stone begins to shine like starlight, followed by a pulsing blue-yellow glow which envelopes his face. Children in the crowd gasp and call out, "The Moonshard!" but they're hushed quickly as the High Priest raises the small glowing rock carefully from the box. Holding it high for all to see, he begins to call out words in a mystic language. With each powerful word, the Moonshard grows brighter, the air humming with energy. The crowd of villagers part as Juriendor walks the aisle, continuing the ceremony.
Suddenly, almost as if part of the ritual, the doors to the cathedral burst open and the ceremonial gates rattle wildly in the blast. Two men - weapons on their backs and dressed in battered armor - stagger into the room, each carrying a badly injured individual.
"Help us, please! We require healing and our friends are at death's door! The evils of the Dark Wood are too many, too foul. Another ally outside is turned to stone, yet I dare say that no one within these walls would fancy to face what lurks without!"
The ceremony pauses. With the clerics and Juriendor in the front, you all are closer to the wounded men, and they need assistance. What do you do?
Continuing to blend in with the crowd, Daewen chooses to follow the lead of the crowd and doesn't take any actions until she see what they're going to do...she is unsure if this is a part of the ceremony, or a real individual who needs help. Either way, it's not what she was hired here for, so she'll wait until those pesky Drow show up to reveal herself.
Last to know and first to be blamed...
As a free action, can I regret my life choices?
Zhisshikassa tilts his head to one side and unblinkingly stares towards Nephvir for an uncomfortable period of time before answering. "While disposing of bodies through combustion is inefficient and quite conspicuous, the suggestion will be considered," he rasps, voice drawn more thin by the extended period of time in subzero temperatures. He mirrors the polite nod Nephvir offered before slowly blinking for the first time in minutes. Evidently, any humor or sarcasm embedded within the phrase fell on deaf ears.
After his usual, initial flinch at being unexpectedly touched, he reluctantly accepts the aid in wrapping yet another shawl to warm his frozen bones. Arora had a useful set of skills, sure, but she had one flaw - she worried about people too much. She cared. Zhi has long since abandoned what he considers useless hope. Allies are allies - some are meant to die. The feeling Zhi gained from Arora's personality is she would endanger the entire group to save the life of one. And to Zhi, the thought is deeply disturbing. "Ensure Daewen is safe," Zhi hisses, muttering something under his breath. A coil of magical energy loops around Arora as Zhi pulls the strings of fate to favor her direction - Guidance. He casts a dismissive look towards Arora before returning to his own mind.
Zhi casts a look down in disdain - one of his spotless, black cloaks was soaked in the remnants of a spill earned from regaining his balance. He attempts to flick his hands in an effort to dry them, but finds his muscles too frozen to generate enough momentum. He snarls softly under his breath before swiveling his crimson pupils to regard Mock. He looks her up and down and attempts to judge whether or not she has gained enough muscle to have 'grown'. "I do not pretend to understand why you have grown on me, but I can certainly see you have gained physical mass," he hoarsely muses, beginning the walk to the cathedral side-by-side with Mock. Not because Zhi liked her, though - but because she had the best chance of carrying him away should he suddenly keel over from the cold.
Zhi opens his unhinged jaw to ask for the definition of 'toots' before he remembered who he was talking to. He exhales a long sigh, steam billowing from under his cowl in a steady stream as the hissing sigh continues. "I believe only Centurion is capable of rivaling your...imprecise method of approaching missions," he softly snarls, eyes fixed in a firm glare at the only just-arriving Doc. Some people didn't know how to follow a schedule, apparently. Or a plan.
Upon arrival to the cathedral, the sight of a warm fire drew Zhisshikassa's attention like a moth to a lamp. Fighting the embarrassing urge to bask like a lizard in front of the entire assembly, Zhisshikassa only stalks forwards to seat himself near Mock and the cluster of villagers closest to the plinth. In an effort to judge how magical the place was - and possibly detect any form of invisible infiltration or creatures nearby - Zhi ritually casts Detect Magic and will have it constantly on for the foreseeable future. His interest piques at the Moonshard's display. It was clearly magical - he would need to study this town on off missions more often. Why couldn't it be warmer?
As the ceremony is interrupted, Zhi instantly locks eyes on Doc to tend to the injured - but something else interests him. He swivels towards Mock and whispers a low, hissing warning. If I had to guess, this is a distraction from a true attack. He rises from his seat and casts a glance around - attempting to discern any sort of magic - and begins to speak. "What evils lurk outside? Do they have intentions of interrupting the ceremony?" he rasps, voice dull and monotone. At the same time, he wracks his knowledgeable brain about any monsters in the area which are known for turning people into stone. Medusas, Gorgons...all of them lived in the jungle. Something this north? Doubtful.
Could he make a check to guess what creatures that frequent the area are capable of turning people into stones?
Nephvir is at the rear corner of the cathedral. After the men come in wounded and everyone gathers around, he takes the opportunity to stick close to the wall and make his way to the door, peering around the corner Scooby Doo style into the night, looking for movement, hostiles.
Perception : 5
"Hmm, yes, I agree." Raza's face reflects her puzzlement as she watches the proceedings. Ceremonies should not be theater performances in her opinion. She jumps when the door bursts open, taking in the scene but something is off here, that was very coincidental. She watches Juriendor to judge his reaction.
(Depending on what you want)
Perception 13
Insight 18
Let's get some DC12 Medicine checks and some DC12 Nature checks to see what's going on.
Kasha gasps, looking at the wounded, and nearly trips over herself in empathy climbing over the villagers in the pews and then walks carefully over to the injured men, looking them over. "Oh, my! They ARE hurt!" she calls out.
Zhi barely bothers to give the injured villagers a glance and instead wracks his brain for anything he knows about local wildlife and creatures that transfigure or petrify others.
Nature - 22
(Waiting for more rolls.)
Nephvir glances at the scene from where he is, but keeps an eye out the door.
Nature : 6
Medicine : 8
Upon hearing Zhi’s warning, Mock gives a little nod and rises to her feet. Time for some action, then. She sees Kasha bound right over to the injured lot and follows almost immediately. A hand rests on Kasha’s shoulder as Mock leans in, too, trying to distinguish what exactly has happened to these men. (Also to pull the rambunctious one back behind her, just in case.)
Medicine: 11
Daewen’s rolls:
DC12 Medicine: 19
DC12 Nature: 21
Again, she chooses to merely blend in with the crowd, not wanting to reveal her hand yet.
Last to know and first to be blamed...
As a free action, can I regret my life choices?
Myharl has been heavily wounded by an animal - seems to be caused by some sort of giant rat.
Goldsneezer is unconscious and has failed one death saving throw. He's been injured by magic. He needs a heal immediately.
Hawthorne has some sort of poison in his veins. He is struggling to stay conscious and looks pale.
Warstriker is mortally wounded. Hs is unconscious and has failed two death saving throws. He is riddled with small, serrated cuts. He needs a heal immediately.
There is one other person outside, as mentioned, who was turned to stone.
Medicine: 7
Nature: 9
Kasha, being the affectionate, empathetic type that she is, cannot really figure out what's wrong with these adventurers, but looks imploringly at you all to do something. "We need to help them!" she says. "Should I heal them?"
Before he could respond to Mock or Arora, he was interrupted by Nephvir's juvenile response. Questioning once again how he ended up here, he sighed softly to himself as he scratched at his head before saying, "Let's all just move ahead shall we? And try and split up if you can..."
Ushered inside to the Cathedral, Centurion slowly separated himself from the group, sitting a few pews back from the bulk of the squad. As he sat, he spent a few moments examining the architecture of the Cathedral before paying attention as the priest and congregation began the ritual related to the Vigil of Light. He couldn't quite grasp what exactly the townsfolk of Rybalka were chanting, but he did his best to blend in, mumbling along and moving his lips to seem like a local. When the High Priest Juriendor pulled out the Moonshard, the glowing blue-yellow stone caught his eye immediately - and apparently his patron's too as he felt the slightest ping from them tugging at his senses. Making a mental note to add the stone to his report - and maybe do a little research on it later as well - once the mission was complete, Centurion strained he ears to see if he recognized the language that the man was now chanting in. (OOC: Doc can speak Celestial, Abyssal & Undercommon in case it happens to be one of those languages)
When the doors burst open, Doc had expected a band of Drow to rush in to steal the Moonshard or cause some other sort of trouble. Instead he was surprised to see what looked like wounded soldiers or adventurers enter the building and warn - or scare - the mass of an impending doom. If he only knew the true horrors out there, Doc thought to himself as he rose from his seat and remembered some of D2's past missions "fondly".
"Let me take a look at them!" Centurion announced to the men as he made his way over to them. He was pleased to see that at least of few of them - whether through insubordination or foresight - stayed put and remained hidden within the crowd. "Hold on you two, let me see what we're dealing with..." he told to Mock and Kasha before beginning a hasty examination. Doing a simple triage, he quickly went to work on the two with mortal wounds, drafting Mock and Kasha to assist him as he used his remaining medical supplies to save the dying men from an early death. Once he was satisfied that was accomplished for the time being, he began giving a more thorough review of the two who were still conscious. As he worked, he asked, "Tell me how you all received these wounds? They don't seem to all be from the seem source?"
Healer:
You are an able physician, allowing you to mend wounds quickly and get your allies back in the fight. You gain the following benefits:
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM