Hey guys! This will be the main campaign thread. Whenever you post, if it is something OOC, use ((brackets)) like that.
In the free city of Stormhaven, lies a two storied tavern and inn, named "Ship in a Bottle". Hanging from the front of the inn is a large sign, of a white ship in a rum bottle, sailing imaginary seas. A couple sailors stumble out of the inn drunkenly, and the sound of laughter and merriment can be heard from the open doorway. It is currently late in the afternoon, and most of the inn's patrons are there for a quick drink and supper before heading off to bed.
To start this campaign off, say what your character is doing in the inn and why they are there. Something simple like taking an evening meal would work, as well as something more complicated, like looking for information.
Only her second day in the city and Mugs was already down to her last few silver and copper. She sat off to the side at a small table clicking two copper in her hands with a frustrated expression.
Pulling out a plain brown satchel from under her cloak she opens it to find a dry ration. Mugs looked at it bitterly. The dry crumbly biscuit was barely a step above sucking a dry stone as far as flavor went. She began to take a bite but instead cursed at it and threw it back into her satchel frustrated.
Shaking out her coin pouch she nabbed a few copper pieces out and approached the main counter. Pushing through a group of sailors at the crowded bar she holds her coins out towards the barkeep.
"How much for a bowl of soup or something else small for supper?" She asked.
[Response]
"That much? Surely you could knock a few coppers off for a travelling scholar, right?"
Persuasion 10
Paying the barkeep, she turned around returning to her table to wait for her dinner.
Basiel is seated at the bar with his elbows up on the bar top, sharing idle conversation with the barkeep. He is currently out of work, and has been staying at the Ship for the past fortnight.
The conversation pauses as the barkeep shuffles off to attend to a human Basiel doesn’t recognize. "Must be new in town…", he thinks to himself, and turns in his seat to gaze around the tavern. His face is lit by a beam of sunlight coming from the open door, and he watches the two sailors exit the Ship. Basiel looks like a sailor himself, with sun-bronzed skin and eyes that are wrinkled at the corners. He has a habit of squinting, as though he is looking into the sun, picked up from his years out at sea. He is wearing his casual clothes, a linen outfit composed of: a light brown tunic, cream breeches, and some leather boots. He wears a brown belt over the tunic, which supports a sword, a dagger, and his money-pouch.
He’s been in the bar for half an hour. He finished his lunch and is slowly finishing the rest of the rum he had alongside it.
It has been a rather tiring journey for Dara. Once again, she had run into a dead end in her search for more clues. She walks into the inn for a short break from her endeavors. Keeping her hood of the black cloak up, she quickly goes and sits down at an empty seat alone. That's when she settles down and takes a glance throughout the inn she had stayed in since last night, her wariness of others quickly settling in from her military training days. She is making sure that there is no immediate threat or suspicious person around the inn.
Erika finds the tavern the captain of her passenger ship had recommended, and enters. Walking up to the bar, she waves down the barkeep and asks for a meal, as she hasn’t had decent food most of the passage here. She’ll sit down next to the sailor-looking halfling and wait for the food. Her hair is cut short, showing her obvious elven ears, and her eyes constantly scan everyone. Underneath her cloak are many pockets and pouches, along with a few swords, a dagger, and what looks like a crossbow. She looks ready for anything you could throw at her. When the barkeep returns she’ll ask, “By the way, do you know of a noble named Lady Amory?”
To Mugs: "The soup'll be two silvers. Don't think I can lower the price, although I'd love to. Those pirates ain't lettiin' up on this here shore."
To Dara: You notice a group of five rough looking sailors sitting together in the corner. They mutter loudly to each other, and you manage to make out the name, "Ratbeard". Each one has a small flintlock and a cutlass.
To Erika: The barkeep returns to your table (which is near Basiel) and lays down a hunk of bread and some cheese. With it, he brings a bottle of rum. "Anything else for ya?" He asks. "We got finer wines from Polaris, but they're mighty expensive. Tastes like heaven if you have the coin though. As for a lady Amory, I can't say I've heard of her. However, there was a Polarian lass who came through recently on a big boat. Went over to La Fortaleza for something or other. She may be who you're lookin' for."
Mugs was greedily slurping down the warm noodle soup when the doors of the tavern swung open again. She was glad to have a warm meal after a few days of nothing but dry biscuits.
Sailors continued to cycle in and out as the evening carried on. Like a revolving door that took in tired weary sailors and spit out happy drunken ones. The idea made her smile. As she was finishing her soup, she noticed an out of place character sitting at a table right next to her. A woman wearing a black robe sat in the corner alone, without a drink, eyeing the other patrons suspiciously.
"Hmmm..." she mused quietly. "It doesn't quite look like she belongs... certainly not a sailor."
Mugs stood up and carried the bowl over to the barkeep. She took a stealthy glance through her black curls at the sitting stranger. I wonder if I can spy her coin purse.
Perception 7
The counter had become much more crowded from when Mugs ordered earlier. "Sorry, excuse me!" she said struggling to push between a rather muscular Halfling and an Elf in leather. She passed her plate over the counter to the barkeep.
"I coulda- left it for the bar maids but I thought I'd bring it straight to ya." She remarked winking at the barkeep, "Just to show you how I'm a real go getter. Speaking of getting things..." Mugs paused briefly, "Have you heard of anywhere around here I could get a job?" She took her almost empty coin pouch and jingled it at the bar tender. "There can't be more than six er seven coins in here. I could really use it."
Benagol is a human, male, in his twenties, quite slim, with black unkempt hair and heavy black mustaches, hook nose and a smart eyes.
He is quite happy to be in Stormhaven: new opportunities, new lands to be explored, far away from the old empires and their old rules.
In his youth he was employed in the army for training like many others, now he is getting by sailing and fishing.
For example today he went to take mussels and sold them at the market, now he is quite tired and enjoying a whiskey in the inn, whiskey with honey because he has throat-ache.
Until few moments ago, he was talking with a fellow sailor, now is alone at the bar finishing his drink and looking around at the customers.
He spotted an alone good looking elf-woman, ((@Dara)) the hood doesn't quite hide her nice face: Benagol is both tired and curious, so for the moment he remains at the bar.
Entering the tavern is a Halfling woman who you would not expect to see in a place like this, for she is clearly not a sailor or traveller but of a higher station.
Her clothes are fine and the well made cloak that hangs down from her shoulders is attached round her neck with a set of ornate clasps. Over her clothes she wears leather armour that has clearly been crafted by a talented artisan as it has ornate patterns worked throughout it. At her back is strapped a musket with fine engravings along its barrel and a metal shield shaped into the depiction of the rolling waves of the sea. Her well groomed brown hair hangs down over shoulders framing her gentle face and hanging around her neck is a golden amulet shaped into the holy symbol of Argon(a fireball) with a gleaming ruby at it's centre that glistens as the light catches it.
You would expect suspicious eyes to fall on her in a place like this but instead as she moves through the crowd towards the bar she is greeted with nods and welcomes which she returns to many of the sailors as she goes. She is clearly known here, and obviously friendly with some of the sailors. As she moves she looks around, she is clearly looking for someone and she has a look of concern on her face.
As she comes up to the bar Filli thinks to herself I hope that he is here...and in a state to talk. She had come looking for Gerant Kettlewhip, a sailor who had worked on one of her families ships. Unfortunately he had been injured in one of the attacks several tendays prior and was no longer able to sail, his left shoulder and leg both being crippled in the violence. He had unfortunately turned to drink to cope now his trade was lost to him and his family was struggling to get by now. Filli couldn't stand the memory of his wife and daughters faces when she had met with them earlier, they were desperate. Thankfully one of the rope makers needed an extra hand and he had agreed to take Gerant on if he was there in the morning, and so Filli had come to find him.
As the barkeep comes to her she greets him "Evening Larkan, how is business today? Is Gerant in? I need to speak with him...if hes not too far gone..."
Dara mutters "Ratbeard" under her breath, making sure to remember the name. She doesn't relax upon noticing the rough-looking sailors, but her keen senses quickly pick up someone's watchful eye. Her eyes dart around to find that not only one, but two people had been studying her. The human man glimpsing at her from the bar seemed harmless enough, but she was more curious at the human that had been sitting in the table next to hers. The dark-haired human was now talking to the barkeep, holding out her coin purse. Despite this interaction, Dara noticed that the woman would occasionally glimpse at her, and Dara wanted to know what about her had garnered that human's interest.
Insight 8
She should have been used to the attention she received, she and her sister always received a lot of curious looks and attention since they were young. Although her sister loved being the center of all of that interest, Dara was never one for appreciating it.
Looking out the window, she sighed and wondered if it was safe enough to head back outside to start searching for more clues or to buy more resources for her magic, she was getting low and wanted to get her familiar back as soon as possible.
Even with this thought, she never stopped looking towards the sailors that discomforted her from time to time, wanting to make sure that she was not going to become a part of a conflict she did not want to get involved with.
The patrons of the tavern begin to trickle out. It is getting late.
Larkan, the barkeep looks over to Filli. "Can't say I've seen Gerant for a while. He used to frequent this area often, but since he got hurt, I haven't seen even a glimpse of him. Wonder where he might've..."
The barkeep's words slow to a small, quiet stutter as the five ruffians stand up quickly and start walking towards him. They're obvious arrogance gives them many unsavory looks from the remaining drinkers, but they seem indifferent to it. One of them, a tall, lanky fellow, takes out his flintlock and sets it on the table. The whole tavern goes silent. "It's been a long time old friend." he says, mockingly, "You know what we're here for. Give us the map you got from that Valencian scum. Ratbeard wants it, and if you don't comply, he'll take it, along with your head."
"I- I don't know what you're talking about..." the barkeep mutters, looking down. "I ain't got no map, and I haven't seen no gnomes." The barkeep replies, somewhat more confident now.
"Fine. Remember this when you're in the halls of the Shadow Queen, it was your choice." The man picks the flintlock off the table and points it directly at the barkeep's face.
Everybody who wants to take part in the resulting battle, roll initiative!
Intiative for ruffians: 9
((Combat: since we probably won't post in the order that we go in, post what you will do whenever it is your turn. You can also add a couple options, like "I'll fight the main bandit, but if he goes down, I'll protect Larkan." Roll intiative, and I'll roll attack and damage rolls probably.))
Mugs is taken aback by the rude interruption by the ruffians. She quickly scanned the ruffians to see which of them seemed to have the largest coin purse. Perception: 13 Jumping forward she takes a wide step towards them. Standing right next to Basiel she claps her hands together while chanting under her breath. When her hands collide a thundering explosion is released. The deafening boom that ensues sends all the chairs around her flying. Plates with meals are shattered against the walls and any nearby candles are snuffed out and then thrown away.
"Guards!" She screams out in the aftermath. (300 ft audio range)
(All 4 ruffians that aren't the main ruffian pointing the pistol must make a Constitution saving throw or take 2d8 points of thundering damage. Furthermore they are thrown back and prone 10 feet away from me) Damage: 8 (On save they only take half the damage and aren't pushed back)
Basiel’s gaze follows a hooded figure as they enter the bar and take a seat, before he turns back to his drink. He stares into his cup at the reflective surface of the golden liquid within. As he does so, someone seats themselves next to Basiel, and he idly listens to what they ask the barkeep.
Perception:7
His thoughts are interrupted as the newcomer from before squeezes in next to him. He looks up and nods at her, shuffling his stool slightly away to give her some space. His attention now drawn, he can’t help but overhear that the human is looking for work. “You and me both,” he thinks to himself.
He looks away, to avoid being obvious about his eavesdropping. His eyes are drawn to a well-dressed halfling, someone he recognizes from around Stormhaven but has yet to meet. Basiel watches as she searches the room and walks up to the barkeep, and he tries to hear what she says to Larkan.
Perception:20
Basiel at least notices Larkan’s speech trail off as the barkeep’s gaze shifts. Basiel follows the barkeep’s stare and observes the rough looking group. As the situation escalates, his hand instinctively goes to the hilt of his sword.
Initiative:12
If he is ahead in the initiative order, Basiel will try to interrupt the ruffian’s attack on Larkan. He will draw his sword and shout: “Larkan, get down!” as he moves to the ruffian, and he will use his attack action to attempt to shove the ruffian to the ground.
Athletics:8
If this is no longer an option, Basiel will move to defend Larkan by attacking, with his sword, any bandit that has already attacked anyone in the bar.
Attack:10
Damage:7
OOC: This is my first time trying a roll, and also my first time trying a shove. Please let me know if I've done anything incorrectly! :)
Tell me if it doesn't work, this is my first time trying it this way. I tend to play theater of the mind, and for combat, I'll probably only use maps for a general idea of where everybody is. Larkan, the barkeep is behind the counter, probably at J1. The ruffians are standing around J3 to L4. You guys can update your posts with your combat descriptions.
@gordonauld, everything's great!
Current intiative: Basiel (12), Filli (11), Mugs (10), Ruffians (9), Dara (5)
As the events pan out and the pistol is raised at Larkan Filli immediately moves to place herself between Larkan and the pistol aimed at him. As she moves she swings her shield off her back into her right hand raising it in an attempt to block the shot, entering a defensive stance as she gets in position.
Move: To place herself between Larkan and the shot, although keeping as far back from the ruffians as possible.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Dara immediately spots the five sailors stand up. With a sigh, she stands to prepare herself for the fight. Upon the chaos that erupts, she hangs out a little towards the back, closer to the door, and stops when she is within 20 feet of one of the five men. Muttering under her breath, she pulls out her quarterstaff and whips it out, pointing it towards the man within 20 feet of her.
From those seeing her movements, they would immediately see a white, cold energy burst from her hand, through her staff, flying towards her target. (Casting Ray of Frost)
Attack :10
Damage : 1
Note: On a hit, the target's speed is reduced by 10 feet until the start of Dara's next turn.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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Hey guys! This will be the main campaign thread. Whenever you post, if it is something OOC, use ((brackets)) like that.
In the free city of Stormhaven, lies a two storied tavern and inn, named "Ship in a Bottle". Hanging from the front of the inn is a large sign, of a white ship in a rum bottle, sailing imaginary seas. A couple sailors stumble out of the inn drunkenly, and the sound of laughter and merriment can be heard from the open doorway. It is currently late in the afternoon, and most of the inn's patrons are there for a quick drink and supper before heading off to bed.
To start this campaign off, say what your character is doing in the inn and why they are there. Something simple like taking an evening meal would work, as well as something more complicated, like looking for information.
Player: Caer Blain Campaign
DM: Stormhaven
DM: Temple of the Lizard King
Only her second day in the city and Mugs was already down to her last few silver and copper. She sat off to the side at a small table clicking two copper in her hands with a frustrated expression.
Pulling out a plain brown satchel from under her cloak she opens it to find a dry ration. Mugs looked at it bitterly. The dry crumbly biscuit was barely a step above sucking a dry stone as far as flavor went. She began to take a bite but instead cursed at it and threw it back into her satchel frustrated.
Shaking out her coin pouch she nabbed a few copper pieces out and approached the main counter. Pushing through a group of sailors at the crowded bar she holds her coins out towards the barkeep.
"How much for a bowl of soup or something else small for supper?" She asked.
[Response]
"That much? Surely you could knock a few coppers off for a travelling scholar, right?"
Persuasion 10
Paying the barkeep, she turned around returning to her table to wait for her dinner.
Basiel is seated at the bar with his elbows up on the bar top, sharing idle conversation with the barkeep. He is currently out of work, and has been staying at the Ship for the past fortnight.
The conversation pauses as the barkeep shuffles off to attend to a human Basiel doesn’t recognize. "Must be new in town…", he thinks to himself, and turns in his seat to gaze around the tavern. His face is lit by a beam of sunlight coming from the open door, and he watches the two sailors exit the Ship. Basiel looks like a sailor himself, with sun-bronzed skin and eyes that are wrinkled at the corners. He has a habit of squinting, as though he is looking into the sun, picked up from his years out at sea. He is wearing his casual clothes, a linen outfit composed of: a light brown tunic, cream breeches, and some leather boots. He wears a brown belt over the tunic, which supports a sword, a dagger, and his money-pouch.
He’s been in the bar for half an hour. He finished his lunch and is slowly finishing the rest of the rum he had alongside it.
It has been a rather tiring journey for Dara. Once again, she had run into a dead end in her search for more clues. She walks into the inn for a short break from her endeavors. Keeping her hood of the black cloak up, she quickly goes and sits down at an empty seat alone. That's when she settles down and takes a glance throughout the inn she had stayed in since last night, her wariness of others quickly settling in from her military training days. She is making sure that there is no immediate threat or suspicious person around the inn.
Perception 15
Erika finds the tavern the captain of her passenger ship had recommended, and enters. Walking up to the bar, she waves down the barkeep and asks for a meal, as she hasn’t had decent food most of the passage here. She’ll sit down next to the sailor-looking halfling and wait for the food. Her hair is cut short, showing her obvious elven ears, and her eyes constantly scan everyone. Underneath her cloak are many pockets and pouches, along with a few swords, a dagger, and what looks like a crossbow. She looks ready for anything you could throw at her. When the barkeep returns she’ll ask, “By the way, do you know of a noble named Lady Amory?”
To Mugs: "The soup'll be two silvers. Don't think I can lower the price, although I'd love to. Those pirates ain't lettiin' up on this here shore."
To Dara: You notice a group of five rough looking sailors sitting together in the corner. They mutter loudly to each other, and you manage to make out the name, "Ratbeard". Each one has a small flintlock and a cutlass.
To Erika: The barkeep returns to your table (which is near Basiel) and lays down a hunk of bread and some cheese. With it, he brings a bottle of rum. "Anything else for ya?" He asks. "We got finer wines from Polaris, but they're mighty expensive. Tastes like heaven if you have the coin though. As for a lady Amory, I can't say I've heard of her. However, there was a Polarian lass who came through recently on a big boat. Went over to La Fortaleza for something or other. She may be who you're lookin' for."
Player: Caer Blain Campaign
DM: Stormhaven
DM: Temple of the Lizard King
((2 Silver Deducted.))
Mugs was greedily slurping down the warm noodle soup when the doors of the tavern swung open again. She was glad to have a warm meal after a few days of nothing but dry biscuits.
Sailors continued to cycle in and out as the evening carried on. Like a revolving door that took in tired weary sailors and spit out happy drunken ones. The idea made her smile. As she was finishing her soup, she noticed an out of place character sitting at a table right next to her. A woman wearing a black robe sat in the corner alone, without a drink, eyeing the other patrons suspiciously.
"Hmmm..." she mused quietly. "It doesn't quite look like she belongs... certainly not a sailor."
Mugs stood up and carried the bowl over to the barkeep. She took a stealthy glance through her black curls at the sitting stranger. I wonder if I can spy her coin purse.
Perception 7
The counter had become much more crowded from when Mugs ordered earlier. "Sorry, excuse me!" she said struggling to push between a rather muscular Halfling and an Elf in leather. She passed her plate over the counter to the barkeep.
"I coulda- left it for the bar maids but I thought I'd bring it straight to ya." She remarked winking at the barkeep, "Just to show you how I'm a real go getter. Speaking of getting things..." Mugs paused briefly, "Have you heard of anywhere around here I could get a job?" She took her almost empty coin pouch and jingled it at the bar tender. "There can't be more than six er seven coins in here. I could really use it."
Charisma: 9
Benagol
Benagol is a human, male, in his twenties, quite slim, with black unkempt hair and heavy black mustaches, hook nose and a smart eyes.
He is quite happy to be in Stormhaven: new opportunities, new lands to be explored, far away from the old empires and their old rules.
In his youth he was employed in the army for training like many others, now he is getting by sailing and fishing.
For example today he went to take mussels and sold them at the market, now he is quite tired and enjoying a whiskey in the inn, whiskey with honey because he has throat-ache.
Until few moments ago, he was talking with a fellow sailor, now is alone at the bar finishing his drink and looking around at the customers.
He spotted an alone good looking elf-woman, ((@Dara)) the hood doesn't quite hide her nice face: Benagol is both tired and curious, so for the moment he remains at the bar.
,
Entering the tavern is a Halfling woman who you would not expect to see in a place like this, for she is clearly not a sailor or traveller but of a higher station.
Her clothes are fine and the well made cloak that hangs down from her shoulders is attached round her neck with a set of ornate clasps. Over her clothes she wears leather armour that has clearly been crafted by a talented artisan as it has ornate patterns worked throughout it. At her back is strapped a musket with fine engravings along its barrel and a metal shield shaped into the depiction of the rolling waves of the sea. Her well groomed brown hair hangs down over shoulders framing her gentle face and hanging around her neck is a golden amulet shaped into the holy symbol of Argon(a fireball) with a gleaming ruby at it's centre that glistens as the light catches it.
You would expect suspicious eyes to fall on her in a place like this but instead as she moves through the crowd towards the bar she is greeted with nods and welcomes which she returns to many of the sailors as she goes. She is clearly known here, and obviously friendly with some of the sailors. As she moves she looks around, she is clearly looking for someone and she has a look of concern on her face.
As she comes up to the bar Filli thinks to herself I hope that he is here...and in a state to talk. She had come looking for Gerant Kettlewhip, a sailor who had worked on one of her families ships. Unfortunately he had been injured in one of the attacks several tendays prior and was no longer able to sail, his left shoulder and leg both being crippled in the violence. He had unfortunately turned to drink to cope now his trade was lost to him and his family was struggling to get by now. Filli couldn't stand the memory of his wife and daughters faces when she had met with them earlier, they were desperate. Thankfully one of the rope makers needed an extra hand and he had agreed to take Gerant on if he was there in the morning, and so Filli had come to find him.
As the barkeep comes to her she greets him "Evening Larkan, how is business today? Is Gerant in? I need to speak with him...if hes not too far gone..."
Dara mutters "Ratbeard" under her breath, making sure to remember the name. She doesn't relax upon noticing the rough-looking sailors, but her keen senses quickly pick up someone's watchful eye. Her eyes dart around to find that not only one, but two people had been studying her. The human man glimpsing at her from the bar seemed harmless enough, but she was more curious at the human that had been sitting in the table next to hers. The dark-haired human was now talking to the barkeep, holding out her coin purse. Despite this interaction, Dara noticed that the woman would occasionally glimpse at her, and Dara wanted to know what about her had garnered that human's interest.
Insight 8
She should have been used to the attention she received, she and her sister always received a lot of curious looks and attention since they were young. Although her sister loved being the center of all of that interest, Dara was never one for appreciating it.
Looking out the window, she sighed and wondered if it was safe enough to head back outside to start searching for more clues or to buy more resources for her magic, she was getting low and wanted to get her familiar back as soon as possible.
Even with this thought, she never stopped looking towards the sailors that discomforted her from time to time, wanting to make sure that she was not going to become a part of a conflict she did not want to get involved with.
Mugs, you were not able to spot the coin purse.
The patrons of the tavern begin to trickle out. It is getting late.
Larkan, the barkeep looks over to Filli. "Can't say I've seen Gerant for a while. He used to frequent this area often, but since he got hurt, I haven't seen even a glimpse of him. Wonder where he might've..."
The barkeep's words slow to a small, quiet stutter as the five ruffians stand up quickly and start walking towards him. They're obvious arrogance gives them many unsavory looks from the remaining drinkers, but they seem indifferent to it. One of them, a tall, lanky fellow, takes out his flintlock and sets it on the table. The whole tavern goes silent. "It's been a long time old friend." he says, mockingly, "You know what we're here for. Give us the map you got from that Valencian scum. Ratbeard wants it, and if you don't comply, he'll take it, along with your head."
"I- I don't know what you're talking about..." the barkeep mutters, looking down. "I ain't got no map, and I haven't seen no gnomes." The barkeep replies, somewhat more confident now.
"Fine. Remember this when you're in the halls of the Shadow Queen, it was your choice." The man picks the flintlock off the table and points it directly at the barkeep's face.
Everybody who wants to take part in the resulting battle, roll initiative!
Intiative for ruffians: 9
((Combat: since we probably won't post in the order that we go in, post what you will do whenever it is your turn. You can also add a couple options, like "I'll fight the main bandit, but if he goes down, I'll protect Larkan." Roll intiative, and I'll roll attack and damage rolls probably.))
Player: Caer Blain Campaign
DM: Stormhaven
DM: Temple of the Lizard King
((Waiting for map))
Initaitive 10
Mugs is taken aback by the rude interruption by the ruffians. She quickly scanned the ruffians to see which of them seemed to have the largest coin purse.
Perception: 13
Jumping forward she takes a wide step towards them. Standing right next to Basiel she claps her hands together while chanting under her breath. When her hands collide a thundering explosion is released. The deafening boom that ensues sends all the chairs around her flying. Plates with meals are shattered against the walls and any nearby candles are snuffed out and then thrown away.
"Guards!" She screams out in the aftermath. (300 ft audio range)
(All 4 ruffians that aren't the main ruffian pointing the pistol must make a Constitution saving throw or take 2d8 points of thundering damage. Furthermore they are thrown back and prone 10 feet away from me)
Damage: 8
(On save they only take half the damage and aren't pushed back)
Initiative: 11
Initiative 5
Basiel’s gaze follows a hooded figure as they enter the bar and take a seat, before he turns back to his drink. He stares into his cup at the reflective surface of the golden liquid within. As he does so, someone seats themselves next to Basiel, and he idly listens to what they ask the barkeep.
Perception: 7
His thoughts are interrupted as the newcomer from before squeezes in next to him. He looks up and nods at her, shuffling his stool slightly away to give her some space. His attention now drawn, he can’t help but overhear that the human is looking for work. “You and me both,” he thinks to himself.
He looks away, to avoid being obvious about his eavesdropping. His eyes are drawn to a well-dressed halfling, someone he recognizes from around Stormhaven but has yet to meet. Basiel watches as she searches the room and walks up to the barkeep, and he tries to hear what she says to Larkan.
Perception: 20
Basiel at least notices Larkan’s speech trail off as the barkeep’s gaze shifts. Basiel follows the barkeep’s stare and observes the rough looking group. As the situation escalates, his hand instinctively goes to the hilt of his sword.
Initiative: 12
If he is ahead in the initiative order, Basiel will try to interrupt the ruffian’s attack on Larkan. He will draw his sword and shout: “Larkan, get down!” as he moves to the ruffian, and he will use his attack action to attempt to shove the ruffian to the ground.
Athletics: 8
If this is no longer an option, Basiel will move to defend Larkan by attacking, with his sword, any bandit that has already attacked anyone in the bar.
Attack: 10
Damage: 7
OOC: This is my first time trying a roll, and also my first time trying a shove. Please let me know if I've done anything incorrectly! :)
I'm not to good with Roll20, so I'm putting up all my maps through Google Drive. Here's the link to the folder: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1UpVp9vAprmD-fjOL2iJhmK-PK54D3NOC?usp=sharing
Tell me if it doesn't work, this is my first time trying it this way. I tend to play theater of the mind, and for combat, I'll probably only use maps for a general idea of where everybody is. Larkan, the barkeep is behind the counter, probably at J1. The ruffians are standing around J3 to L4. You guys can update your posts with your combat descriptions.
@gordonauld, everything's great!
Current intiative: Basiel (12), Filli (11), Mugs (10), Ruffians (9), Dara (5)
Player: Caer Blain Campaign
DM: Stormhaven
DM: Temple of the Lizard King
(made an attempt at the map edited previous post above.)
https://i.imgur.com/mo3phou.jpg
Awesome, just waiting on our human fighter and the elf rogue.
Player: Caer Blain Campaign
DM: Stormhaven
DM: Temple of the Lizard King
As the events pan out and the pistol is raised at Larkan Filli immediately moves to place herself between Larkan and the pistol aimed at him. As she moves she swings her shield off her back into her right hand raising it in an attempt to block the shot, entering a defensive stance as she gets in position.
Move: To place herself between Larkan and the shot, although keeping as far back from the ruffians as possible.
Action: dodge
Dara immediately spots the five sailors stand up. With a sigh, she stands to prepare herself for the fight. Upon the chaos that erupts, she hangs out a little towards the back, closer to the door, and stops when she is within 20 feet of one of the five men. Muttering under her breath, she pulls out her quarterstaff and whips it out, pointing it towards the man within 20 feet of her.
From those seeing her movements, they would immediately see a white, cold energy burst from her hand, through her staff, flying towards her target. (Casting Ray of Frost)
Attack : 10
Damage : 1
Note: On a hit, the target's speed is reduced by 10 feet until the start of Dara's next turn.