Brushing off the magical attack, but feeling blood coming out off her mouth Duc spits and then whispers to Retiog "Don't worry, after I kill you I'll finish her off." She once more aims her strike at the neck of her adversary, knowing that one last blow should be enough.
Attack 20 for 8
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
Retiog grits his his teeth as the sword pierces his neck. Beginning to choke on his own blood, he grasps the woman by the collar of her armor and just glares at her until the rage fades.
The half-orc slumps to the ground leaning against the nearby platform. He looks to the Red Hand, produces a rude hand gesture, and with his last breath chokes out, "Useless."
Knowing the strike to have been fatal doesn't stop a surge of fear in Duc as the half orc grabs her with a hand that could have crushed her windpipe easily enough, almost against her own will she finds herself reaching out and holding the hand as the life fades out of it, looking into his eyes she sees the pain but also the anger at his failure. Watching him slump to the ground nearby she pauses for a moment and then smiles as he gestures at the wizard. The defiant act reminds her of her purpose and she charges at the woman determined to get close enough to make spellcasting or running off a challenge.
Dash to N4
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
As the fiery ball flashes past her the genasi's eyes go hard. "Laugh all you like, this is not a game and I am going to kill you." She then thrusts aiming for the midsection , looking for a large mass to make sure of her strike.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Con save 23
Shrugging off the after effects of the spell Duc shakes her head "It matters to me" she drives forward again at the other woman, rapier extended.
Attack 8 for 11
The blade seemed heavy in her hand, the point dipping unintentionally, then she remembered the little triton and the wave he had given her, the bright optimism in desperate straits, she could do better she could try harder, she had to, and she was damned if she was going to let this cackling lunatic be the one to beat her.
The wizard's laughter abruptly stops as all the air in the arena becomes tense. Some people boo while others erupt into a cheer Ducquesse the triumphant!
"At least this contest is concluded. Now if you would join me," the mystery voice from before whispers in Duc's ear as well as booms in the arena. "Gather the dead. I will choose who's worthy for saving," they add next as figures dimension door into the arena to remove the bodies by the same method.
Ducquesse
Enyjoing the fruits of your victory you are healed to full health and thrown a great feast. You are taken from tbe arena through a tunnel system and arrive in a crypt of some kind before brought to the surface then lead to a tavern called the Rusted Anchor. There Duc is plied with music and good food. She is greeted by friendly guild members with welcoming words while a small number stare daggers at her the air gensia is sure were betting on someone else to win! The night ends with a comfortable room and the promise of more to come in the following morning.
Noticeably absent from the party however is the ambiguous person whom welcomed Duc in the arena. They are whispered about reverently throughout the evening the name however changes from group to group but they're described in the same way, faceless. Before you get too deep in your cups a woman dressed in all black leathers explains what will follow. You will join the top of the fallen who entered the trial with you on a mission, they also hand over a cloak which is explained as a boon of the Order. (Cloak of the Medusa) that the others must gain after their new test. Congratulating you again the woman joins her friends and welcomes you into the fold! https://www.dndbeyond.com/magic-items/125934-cloak-of-the-medusa (you can't add it unless you've got access to homebrew)
The next morning you wake rested and gather your gear returning down stairs to a quite different scene than the night before. It's a sparsely occupied room with mostly humans. Selecting a four top that's the only free table in the tavern set up for breakfast you sit and are waited on by an admiring gnome woman. You look for the others but don't spot them among the other patrons, not yet.
"Whatever you'd like dear it's on the house," the gnome calls to you sweetly with a smile pointing to a board over the bar.
As you look atbtge board you then notice three of your opponents wandering out of the kitchen. They are clean, healthy, and heading your way.
Alici, Nat, and Retiog
You wake in a platte on the floor with robed figures around you. Some are whispering while there's am argument nearby about 'letting them die' which seems ominous! Your vision darkens and you fall back asleep only to awake again what feels like hours later, possibly the next day, to someone's rough voice waking you.
"Get up you lot. Showing true grit in the arena had the masters save your bacon," says a dark skinned dwarf cleric with the symbol of Medusa on his dark purple-emerald green robes. "Take your gear and get out! There's someone waiting out there to take you above," he adds in still gruff tone before moving away to attend other fallen.
Y'all are gather your gear and make your way down a tunnel lit by arcane light until you reach a crossroads of tunnels.
"We're going topside to the Rusty anchor to fetch the one that killed most of you last night," a purple skinned tiefling says with a smirk.
They lead you to a ladder which you scale then a trapdoor which opens in a cellar.
"Anchors up those stairs and I'm sure you'll recognize the champion," they add chuckling before dropping back down and the hatch slamming shut!
The cellar steps are ahead and each of you climb them in your turn. You reach a kitchen bustling with gnomes, dwarves, and a half-elf who locks eyes with you all and jerks his head towards the kitchen doors that lead into the dining room. Exiting the kitchen y'all are met with a human dominated clientele which a small scattering of other races. The blue skinned air gensia who was so triumphant in trial sits at a table with three other empty chairs.
The party is together in the Rusted Anchor tavern, it's mid-morning and the entire day is ahead!
Alici coughs and sputters then takes a deep breath coughing more and rolls to her side. She spits up a thick dark mixture of drying blood and mucous and finds that she can breathe easier. She moves to a seated position, looking up in surprise at the robed figures all around. She shifts uncomfortably, and then moves her clothes around with no apparent concern for modesty, looking over her injuries which are all healed over with only scars to tell of her brush with death.
At the dwarf's command, she stands and gathers her gear, taking the time to don her battered armor but stuffs her helm into her pack, then ties her shield and other things securely to her pack before throwing it over both shoulders and securing it around her waist and collarbone. She takes up her rapier and admires it for a moment, sliding it gently into the scabbard at her hip. Her steps are slow but confident as she follows the tiefling, and climbs up the ladder.
In the Rusty Anchor, she sees Ducquesse immediately and strides over and takes her seat, nodding. "I had a feeling it would be you. Had I the coin I'd buy us a round of drinks to toast your victory and... I suppose..." she looks at the other two, "our survival."
"We didn't have time for a proper greeting earlier." She stands and removes her right gauntlet and glove setting them on the table in front of her. "Alici is my name." She offers her right hand in greeting.
Nat opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling of the room. He listens as the dwarf cleric says his piece and moves away to his other duties. He continues to stare as he hears the others stir. Finally, he speaks:
She shot me!
Frantically, one hand goes to his chest where the arrow had wounded him. No, where the arrow had killed him. It feels... fine. He squirms in his armour, reaching a hand down under the leather to feel the smooth, bluish skin beneath. No trace of a wound, maybe not even a pretty scar to impress a lover.
He looks at his two companions; he recognises both from the arena. To the woman, he says You're looking better than last time I saw you. To the half-orc: You really did a number on her. Still, everything's healed now, I guess.He realises he's babbling to cover the shock and that they're not really listening to him, and he clamps his mouth shut as he stands and follows the woman out. He has a feeling he knows who the 'champion' will be.
Understandably still nursing a case of hurt pride, Retiog takes a seat at the table with the champion. He flags down a servant to order the largest mug of ale that they may have. He snorts at Alici's offer. "She's the one that should be buying the drinks if you ask me," his states with a rough, yet now calm, voice. "This feels strange.. So, we're just supposed to be friends now?"
Yes. Yes we are. And Nat also offers his hand to the unknown 'champion'. Hello. I'm Nat. And because he literally cannot think of anything else to say at that moment, he adds: You shot me.
Alici sits down leaning her chair back slightly. She shrugs, "I've made friends with worse, least the pair of you can fight, and the blue one never did anything to deserve my ire. I came looking for work, and to get the job we have to work together. Besides, no one actually said we have to be friends, we just have to work together. If it's a choice between bleeding to death in the sand, or working with the folks that almost killed me then I don't know that it's much of a choice at all."
Alici laughs kindly at Nat's statement. "You too? She got me good here and... I think it was here too." She points at the holes in her already heavily beaten armor.
The half-orc stammers a bit before speaking up. "Well... If we are going to work together, I need to trust you. To trust you, we need to be friends." He then turns to Alici, but keeps his eyes low. "I'm sorry for hurting you... and you too," he adds turning then to the genasi.
"No apology necessary, my large friend, though I accept since it's freely given, and apologies to you if you felt slighted by my actions or my words. Ours was a good fight..." she opens her mouth slightly as if she has more to say but, closes it quickly and purses her lips, scanning the room and looking around for someone who might be able to bring her a drink.
"I got all of you, but it gladdens my heart that you have been brought back. Some of those people in the arena were murderers, I do not think you are evil people so I did not enjoy your deaths." Duc goes quiet, looking away from the group "then again I didn't hesitate, I don't really know what that says about the person I have become." Turning to Retiog she smiles "the drinks are certainly on me. You deserve them, I asked the healers to leave a scar where you hit me, those places will remind me to respect my opponent always."
She turns to Alici, noticing the damage in her mail. "I would like to spar with you sometime when our lives don't depend on it, I watched you fight from above, you have some good moves although your jumping could use a little work" she adds with a chuckle.
"And as for you" she says turning to Nat "you wouldn't know it but you might have saved my life, for some reason when I was fighting with the witch at the end I couldn't land a blow, she was taking me down a spell at a time and when I thought I was finished I saw that ridiculous wave you gave me when I shot that crazy blond woman in my mind. I don't know what you were thinking, but it somehow gave me another burst of strength, just enough to put my blade through her. So you have my thanks, and my apologies for shooting you in the back."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
Alici turns to Duc, "I suspect we all knew what this was the moment we set foot on the sand. Hesitation gets you killed in times like these." Alici says, wondering where the damned waiter has gone. "As for sparring, I'd love to, I'm always interested to learn new techniques and be shown my weak points. Though I don't suppose I'd be able to master that flying trick of yours, too bad really."
"No, you do have to be born with that particular ability" Duc smiles. "It is something that I wish I could share though, the feeling of riding the wind like that is hard to describe."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
"Sounds wonderful, useful too. But I've lived a life of dream chasing and fell from that life hard. What I've learned is that I must take life as it comes; for good or ill that's all there is, in my experience."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
~♡~
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Red Hand reappears laughing to a roar from the crowd @N3 then casts ray of sickness at Duc as pay bsck for her earlier attack!
Attack: 12 Damage: 5 if hit Duc then roll CON save DC13 if fail your are poisoned until your next turn.
Top of round movement recap.
Duc @E3
Retiog @E4
Red Hand @N3
ROUND 13
Duc up!
Retiog on deck!
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
Brushing off the magical attack, but feeling blood coming out off her mouth Duc spits and then whispers to Retiog "Don't worry, after I kill you I'll finish her off." She once more aims her strike at the neck of her adversary, knowing that one last blow should be enough.
Attack 20 for 8
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
Lyreis - Level 6 Elf Fighter - Eberron: Omega
DM - Dzenda: The Cracks - DM - Dzenda: Whispered Tales
Retiog grits his his teeth as the sword pierces his neck. Beginning to choke on his own blood, he grasps the woman by the collar of her armor and just glares at her until the rage fades.
The half-orc slumps to the ground leaning against the nearby platform. He looks to the Red Hand, produces a rude hand gesture, and with his last breath chokes out, "Useless."
Knowing the strike to have been fatal doesn't stop a surge of fear in Duc as the half orc grabs her with a hand that could have crushed her windpipe easily enough, almost against her own will she finds herself reaching out and holding the hand as the life fades out of it, looking into his eyes she sees the pain but also the anger at his failure. Watching him slump to the ground nearby she pauses for a moment and then smiles as he gestures at the wizard. The defiant act reminds her of her purpose and she charges at the woman determined to get close enough to make spellcasting or running off a challenge.
Dash to N4
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
Lyreis - Level 6 Elf Fighter - Eberron: Omega
DM - Dzenda: The Cracks - DM - Dzenda: Whispered Tales
Red Hand casts fire bolt: Attack: 12 Damage: 10 at Duc laughing the entire time but standing their ground.
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
As the fiery ball flashes past her the genasi's eyes go hard. "Laugh all you like, this is not a game and I am going to kill you." She then thrusts aiming for the midsection , looking for a large mass to make sure of her strike.
Attack 6 for 10 piecing damage.
Edit: Although clearly not this time!
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
Lyreis - Level 6 Elf Fighter - Eberron: Omega
DM - Dzenda: The Cracks - DM - Dzenda: Whispered Tales
Laughing even harder as the blade misses the wizard raises her hands creating another green glow of engery.
"Die here or elsewhere does it really matter," she says jovially while casting ray of sickness at the warrior:
Attack: 18 Damage: 5; if hit CON save DC13 against poisoned until the end of your next turn.
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
Con save 23
Shrugging off the after effects of the spell Duc shakes her head "It matters to me" she drives forward again at the other woman, rapier extended.
Attack 8 for 11
The blade seemed heavy in her hand, the point dipping unintentionally, then she remembered the little triton and the wave he had given her, the bright optimism in desperate straits, she could do better she could try harder, she had to, and she was damned if she was going to let this cackling lunatic be the one to beat her.
Bardic Influence 3
new attack roll = 18
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
Lyreis - Level 6 Elf Fighter - Eberron: Omega
DM - Dzenda: The Cracks - DM - Dzenda: Whispered Tales
The wizard's laughter abruptly stops as all the air in the arena becomes tense. Some people boo while others erupt into a cheer Ducquesse the triumphant!
"At least this contest is concluded. Now if you would join me," the mystery voice from before whispers in Duc's ear as well as booms in the arena. "Gather the dead. I will choose who's worthy for saving," they add next as figures dimension door into the arena to remove the bodies by the same method.
Ducquesse
Enyjoing the fruits of your victory you are healed to full health and thrown a great feast. You are taken from tbe arena through a tunnel system and arrive in a crypt of some kind before brought to the surface then lead to a tavern called the Rusted Anchor. There Duc is plied with music and good food. She is greeted by friendly guild members with welcoming words while a small number stare daggers at her the air gensia is sure were betting on someone else to win! The night ends with a comfortable room and the promise of more to come in the following morning.
Noticeably absent from the party however is the ambiguous person whom welcomed Duc in the arena. They are whispered about reverently throughout the evening the name however changes from group to group but they're described in the same way, faceless. Before you get too deep in your cups a woman dressed in all black leathers explains what will follow. You will join the top of the fallen who entered the trial with you on a mission, they also hand over a cloak which is explained as a boon of the Order. (Cloak of the Medusa) that the others must gain after their new test. Congratulating you again the woman joins her friends and welcomes you into the fold! https://www.dndbeyond.com/magic-items/125934-cloak-of-the-medusa (you can't add it unless you've got access to homebrew)
The next morning you wake rested and gather your gear returning down stairs to a quite different scene than the night before. It's a sparsely occupied room with mostly humans. Selecting a four top that's the only free table in the tavern set up for breakfast you sit and are waited on by an admiring gnome woman. You look for the others but don't spot them among the other patrons, not yet.
"Whatever you'd like dear it's on the house," the gnome calls to you sweetly with a smile pointing to a board over the bar.
As you look atbtge board you then notice three of your opponents wandering out of the kitchen. They are clean, healthy, and heading your way.
Alici, Nat, and Retiog
You wake in a platte on the floor with robed figures around you. Some are whispering while there's am argument nearby about 'letting them die' which seems ominous! Your vision darkens and you fall back asleep only to awake again what feels like hours later, possibly the next day, to someone's rough voice waking you.
"Get up you lot. Showing true grit in the arena had the masters save your bacon," says a dark skinned dwarf cleric with the symbol of Medusa on his dark purple-emerald green robes. "Take your gear and get out! There's someone waiting out there to take you above," he adds in still gruff tone before moving away to attend other fallen.
Y'all are gather your gear and make your way down a tunnel lit by arcane light until you reach a crossroads of tunnels.
"We're going topside to the Rusty anchor to fetch the one that killed most of you last night," a purple skinned tiefling says with a smirk.
They lead you to a ladder which you scale then a trapdoor which opens in a cellar.
"Anchors up those stairs and I'm sure you'll recognize the champion," they add chuckling before dropping back down and the hatch slamming shut!
The cellar steps are ahead and each of you climb them in your turn. You reach a kitchen bustling with gnomes, dwarves, and a half-elf who locks eyes with you all and jerks his head towards the kitchen doors that lead into the dining room. Exiting the kitchen y'all are met with a human dominated clientele which a small scattering of other races. The blue skinned air gensia who was so triumphant in trial sits at a table with three other empty chairs.
The party is together in the Rusted Anchor tavern, it's mid-morning and the entire day is ahead!
OOC: Feel free to chat with me in PM!
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
Alici coughs and sputters then takes a deep breath coughing more and rolls to her side. She spits up a thick dark mixture of drying blood and mucous and finds that she can breathe easier. She moves to a seated position, looking up in surprise at the robed figures all around. She shifts uncomfortably, and then moves her clothes around with no apparent concern for modesty, looking over her injuries which are all healed over with only scars to tell of her brush with death.
At the dwarf's command, she stands and gathers her gear, taking the time to don her battered armor but stuffs her helm into her pack, then ties her shield and other things securely to her pack before throwing it over both shoulders and securing it around her waist and collarbone. She takes up her rapier and admires it for a moment, sliding it gently into the scabbard at her hip. Her steps are slow but confident as she follows the tiefling, and climbs up the ladder.
In the Rusty Anchor, she sees Ducquesse immediately and strides over and takes her seat, nodding. "I had a feeling it would be you. Had I the coin I'd buy us a round of drinks to toast your victory and... I suppose..." she looks at the other two, "our survival."
"We didn't have time for a proper greeting earlier." She stands and removes her right gauntlet and glove setting them on the table in front of her. "Alici is my name." She offers her right hand in greeting.
~♡~
Nat opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling of the room. He listens as the dwarf cleric says his piece and moves away to his other duties. He continues to stare as he hears the others stir. Finally, he speaks:
She shot me!
Frantically, one hand goes to his chest where the arrow had wounded him. No, where the arrow had killed him. It feels... fine. He squirms in his armour, reaching a hand down under the leather to feel the smooth, bluish skin beneath. No trace of a wound, maybe not even a pretty scar to impress a lover.
He looks at his two companions; he recognises both from the arena. To the woman, he says You're looking better than last time I saw you. To the half-orc: You really did a number on her. Still, everything's healed now, I guess. He realises he's babbling to cover the shock and that they're not really listening to him, and he clamps his mouth shut as he stands and follows the woman out. He has a feeling he knows who the 'champion' will be.
Understandably still nursing a case of hurt pride, Retiog takes a seat at the table with the champion. He flags down a servant to order the largest mug of ale that they may have. He snorts at Alici's offer. "She's the one that should be buying the drinks if you ask me," his states with a rough, yet now calm, voice. "This feels strange.. So, we're just supposed to be friends now?"
Yes. Yes we are. And Nat also offers his hand to the unknown 'champion'. Hello. I'm Nat. And because he literally cannot think of anything else to say at that moment, he adds: You shot me.
Alici sits down leaning her chair back slightly. She shrugs, "I've made friends with worse, least the pair of you can fight, and the blue one never did anything to deserve my ire. I came looking for work, and to get the job we have to work together. Besides, no one actually said we have to be friends, we just have to work together. If it's a choice between bleeding to death in the sand, or working with the folks that almost killed me then I don't know that it's much of a choice at all."
Alici laughs kindly at Nat's statement. "You too? She got me good here and... I think it was here too." She points at the holes in her already heavily beaten armor.
~♡~
The half-orc stammers a bit before speaking up. "Well... If we are going to work together, I need to trust you. To trust you, we need to be friends." He then turns to Alici, but keeps his eyes low. "I'm sorry for hurting you... and you too," he adds turning then to the genasi.
"No apology necessary, my large friend, though I accept since it's freely given, and apologies to you if you felt slighted by my actions or my words. Ours was a good fight..." she opens her mouth slightly as if she has more to say but, closes it quickly and purses her lips, scanning the room and looking around for someone who might be able to bring her a drink.
~♡~
"I got all of you, but it gladdens my heart that you have been brought back. Some of those people in the arena were murderers, I do not think you are evil people so I did not enjoy your deaths." Duc goes quiet, looking away from the group "then again I didn't hesitate, I don't really know what that says about the person I have become." Turning to Retiog she smiles "the drinks are certainly on me. You deserve them, I asked the healers to leave a scar where you hit me, those places will remind me to respect my opponent always."
She turns to Alici, noticing the damage in her mail. "I would like to spar with you sometime when our lives don't depend on it, I watched you fight from above, you have some good moves although your jumping could use a little work" she adds with a chuckle.
"And as for you" she says turning to Nat "you wouldn't know it but you might have saved my life, for some reason when I was fighting with the witch at the end I couldn't land a blow, she was taking me down a spell at a time and when I thought I was finished I saw that ridiculous wave you gave me when I shot that crazy blond woman in my mind. I don't know what you were thinking, but it somehow gave me another burst of strength, just enough to put my blade through her. So you have my thanks, and my apologies for shooting you in the back."
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
Lyreis - Level 6 Elf Fighter - Eberron: Omega
DM - Dzenda: The Cracks - DM - Dzenda: Whispered Tales
Alici turns to Duc, "I suspect we all knew what this was the moment we set foot on the sand. Hesitation gets you killed in times like these." Alici says, wondering where the damned waiter has gone. "As for sparring, I'd love to, I'm always interested to learn new techniques and be shown my weak points. Though I don't suppose I'd be able to master that flying trick of yours, too bad really."
~♡~
"No, you do have to be born with that particular ability" Duc smiles. "It is something that I wish I could share though, the feeling of riding the wind like that is hard to describe."
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
Lyreis - Level 6 Elf Fighter - Eberron: Omega
DM - Dzenda: The Cracks - DM - Dzenda: Whispered Tales
"Sounds wonderful, useful too. But I've lived a life of dream chasing and fell from that life hard. What I've learned is that I must take life as it comes; for good or ill that's all there is, in my experience."
~♡~