Setessa, the great polis that fuses nature and civilization into a single living organism, lies quietly before you. The dense circle of vegetation that forms its outer wall is clearly visible; so too are the enormous treetops that are magically woven together, providing ample hiding places for the archers you know are guarding this great city.
Normally not a place that welcomes non-citizens, Setessa will be receiving a multitude of visitors for the next few days. The full moon is approaching, which means the Abora is open to outsiders. The Abora—a giant, open-air market that stands just within the eastern gate—will be thronged with people buying and selling food, crafts, and curiosities. Your hope is to barter your unusual trinket for something a bit more practical or desirable. Possibly this will be a journey to Setessa that proves to be worth your while.
The sun sinks low in the west, stretching shadows across the well-traveled road only a mile or so from the polis’s edge. For the past few hours, the three of you have managed to eke out a semblance of a conversation, which is mildly surprising considering your distinct differences and the fact that when you woke up this morning you were complete strangers to one another. At your current rate, you—along with a loose crowd of other travelers—should reach the polis outskirts just before dark.
Not everyone’s moving at a leisurely pace, though.
Behind you, a horse rounds a bend in the road, galloping at top speed. The beast looks frantic, terrified and frothing with exertion. Upon it sways a figure wearing a gold mask. The rider barely manages to stay in the saddle, his body bristling with cruel black arrows.
Blind with panic, the horse plows on, threatening to trample travelers in its path. Before it can, though, the beast’s legs give way. Both mount and rider topple, crashing into the dust with a piercing whinny and a sound like snapping branches.
Evios is far from home. It has been a fortnight since he left Clan Bri in the High Forest of Faerûn. Not quite 18 yet, there was not much of a life left for him with his clan, at least by his own opinion. As is the way of centaurs, the most powerful druid within the clan is the leader, and in Evios' case his leader was also his father, Tiri. From a young age the centaur was aware of his destiny, that of following in his father's hoofsteps and becoming clan leader someday. Few occupations seemed more tiresome than that of clan leader; the drudgery of peace talks with quarreling clans, overseeing the inventory of spring harvest, delivering speeches at infant centaur christenings. It all sounded SO BORING.
Evios desired adventure, intrigue, and carnal pleasures, but he ultimately wanted to show his father that he could become the most powerful druid his clan had ever seen if only given the opportunity. Hoping to quell his son's curiosity of the outside world, Tiri reluctantly agreed to let Evios travel to Setessa in order to see if his son could have some good fortune in exchanging an odd sphere of brass that had come into the clan's possession. Unable to decipher any of the characters etched on the sphere, nor able to attune it with any known magic, the clan had decided to send an emissary to the open air market of Abora within the well-guarded walls of Setessa. Although Evios had agreed to exchange the sphere, he secretly was hoping to find out what it was, what it did, and ultimately keep it for himself. He was sure such independent ingenuity would be well-received when he finally returned home.
And it is here that we catch up with Evios, on the road to the market. Centaurs rarely mingle with other clans, much less other races, so to find himself on a busy highway with humans, leonin, and a multitude of others was overwhelming, exciting, and a little terrifying for the young centaur, however his own fierce pride would not allow him to divulge any of the latter. Evios was somewhat relieved to come upon a satyr and minotaur as these were races he'd come in contact with before. Though no small creature himself, Evios was intimidated by the minotaur's obviously superior strength and would puff his chest out periodically to make himself appear even larger. The young centaur was clearly tongue-tied around the female satyr, having only interacted with females of his own kind. Every time the satyr would speak directly to Evios he would laugh nervously and then inexplicably the crate of chickens being hauled by the traders behind them would begin to cluck in unison. Evios' cheeks would redden at the cacophony of clucking, causing him to nervously laugh even more, creating an endless symphony of anxious centaur laughter and chicken clucks.
It was in the midst of one of these nervous laugh/clucking cacophonies a masked rider haphazardly galloped by. As the rider leaves a cloud of dust swirling amongst the three travelers Evios shouts out Hey! Watch where you're going, horse rider! (These last two words are said with a sneer as centaurs find the mounting of any hooved creature loathsome) Upon seeing both horse and rider crash, the centaur is also in a gallop, coming to a full stop and kneeling in front of the horse.
Speak with Animals: You gain the ability to comprehend and verbally communicate with beasts for the duration. The knowledge and awareness of many beasts is limited by their intelligence, but at minimum, beasts can give you information about nearby locations and monsters, including whatever they can perceive or have perceived within the past day. You might be able to persuade a beast to perform a small favor for you, at the GM's discretion.
Oh, daaaaaaamn.What is your name?!?!? Are you hurt???? Is someone or something chasing you???
"Growing up as minotuar, you are taught warfare from the day you can hold an axe. My father was a great minotaur berserker who was well respected among my people in Phoberos. The clan of Trika was not by any means a large clan, but we produced well enough soldiers that satisfied the commanding officers. By the age of 15 years old, I was running into battle along side my father and my brother, who is 4 years my elder. I was always taught that fighting and dying for Mogis is the greatest honor a minotaur could strive to find, but as I grew older and understood more of the world, I began to have doubts about the history of the gods and what we were really fighting for. At the age of 25, my father perished in a battle against Iroas's followers over an expanding territory that he was stationed at. My brother told me to be strong and be happy that he died in battle, as anything else would of been dishonorable for such a great warrior. 3 years later my brother died in a dispute with another minotaur over right on spoils of war." Distraught and extremely doubting his faith, Muraz took to wandering the badlands in search of enlightenment.
His journey in the badlands first led him to find a large skeleton of a winged bull from a fallen Archon warrior, minotaur's always feeling some small akin to bovine, he kept the large horn as a keepsake. He had prophetic visions of Klothys, her long strands of hair entwined with destiny, showing to him that while war is a means to defend and honor your people, a resolution most be found between two opposing forces or eventually both will die out. His journey led him to the coast of Odunos, following along the siren sea, being vigilant to avoid Akros as many enemies of minotaurs lie within that region. Muraz then finds himself in Meletis, a city of scholars and magic. Feeling out of place, and also looking out of place, he found intrigue in the philosophy of Nykleans, helping him find peace within his existence.
Though trying to turn over a new leaf in his life, he still found himself prone to his more "aggressive" tendencies. In a town where knowledge is valued above most, some residents took to diminish his character or intelligence due to his outward appearance. Muraz would then take to diminishing their HP and facial structure. Needless to say, residents were becoming unwelcoming to him and he understood it was about time to move on. He deemed that Setessa would be a lucrative venture for him as his journey had not been to monetarily profitable up to this point, along the road he met a kind Leonin who carved the horn he acquired in the badlands into a flute-like instrument.
Upon entering the city he met a satyr and centaur who had just arrived as well, friendly enough... , he thought. As they were scanning the market for any good deals or trades, an injured man atop a horse comes screaming down the path until the horses collapses due to apparent exhaustion. Muraz, seeing the arrows plunged in the mans back, brings his mind to the battlefield, putting him extremely on edge. Seeing the centaur speaking to the collapsed horse, he approaches closer to see if he can identify if this man is a "breed" of warrior he would recognize.
Life is unpredictable. At least in Irini's experience, it is. As a satyr and criminal, there was no telling where she could find herself. Unlike your typical criminal, Irini, or more commonly known by her satyr friends as Scufflebutt, is led by the beauties of something as simple as a leaf swaying in the wind, the scent of freshly baked bread, or a drunken nap in the sun. Many satyrs leave Skola Vale at a young age wanting to experience the many sights of the world, to climb every tree there is to offer, and to wreak havoc at all parties, but for Irini, leaving home was a much more heartbreaking affair. As many know, satyrs, and especially in Skola Vale, have revelries from day to night, drinking themselves into oblivion. As beautiful as their homeland is it is dangerous and highly discouraged for lone satyrs to roam at night for many monsters- cockatrices, harpies, and chimeras- lie in wait for a drunken satyr to satiate their appetite. Unfortunately, Irini's father and only parent was one of these satyrs. Wanting to forget the past and live in the present, she left home at 17. Leaving behind her beautiful homeland and her dear friends, who gave her the loving nickname of Scufflebutt when they were just wee kids (she was known to fight and challenge many of her peers growing up, but all in good spirit), Irini set off to live life to the fullest and fulfill her sense of wonder.
Not really knowing how to provide for herself and never having much care for money, Irini began with pickpocketing strangers who gave off a wealthy stench. Eventually her crimes led her into highway robbery and becoming a member of a rag-tag group of thugs. They stopped wealthy caravans traveling along the roads, stealing and having no cares in the world. Every night was a party, but after walking past the homeless and the suffering for so long in the towns, while being drunk off good wine and greasy food, Irini wanted to do more. She disbanded from her group, becoming a solo highwayman, stealing from the rich, and giving back to the poor. Being alone for nearly ten years has made her a skilled fighter and prepared for almost any situation, yet she is immensely grateful for her trustworthy contact who acts as a liasion to a network of criminals. Nowadays, Irini doesn't need much. A tree to sleep in, some good wine to drink, and adventure is all she needs to keep her satisfied in life.
Setessa was next on her list of places to see. She'd heard of its beauty and after picking up an odd mechanical canary that does not shut up once dawn hits from a caravan she had robbed, she decided she might as well try to exchange it for something more of use to her. She had made acquaintances with an intimidating minotaur, which to be honest she had seen much scarier, and a young centaur who she seemed to make nervous, which made her laugh on the inside. She was enjoying their company and the conversations they were carrying on, as she spent much of her time alone, when suddenly her ears pick up on the chaotic clopping of hooves and an arrow ridden man riding the beast fly past them and collapse ahead of them on the road. As the centaur checks on the man and the minotaur approaches them, Irini focuses in on where the horse rounded the corner, preparing for anything else to come chasing after.
Evios approaches the fallen horse and rider and, in a moment's glance, discerns the horse is suffering from exhaustion. A multitude of mild abrasions decorate the beast's body, but no serious injury seems to have befallen her. Evios reads the word Photina in simple tooling on the creature's bridle, revealing the horse's name.
Panicked and breathing heavily, the horse responds to the centaur. "I am Photina. Small injuries. Great weariness. We are pursued!"
Muraz, no stranger to the sight of death, can tell immediately that the person is no longer alive. As the minotaur begins to kneel near the rider, he is struck by the lifeless, gray skin, the wounds that weep black blood, and, most of all, the strange mask that still covers the rider's face. Murazrecognizes it as a funerary mask, but this one--rather than being made of clay, as is customary in Theros--has been cast in gold.
Any further investigation that Evios and Muraz might wish to make is interrupted by Scufflebutt, who dryly alerts them to the approach of two more riders. "It seems we're about to learn who dislikes this fellow so much."
The sound of racing hooves rises like rolling thunder from the direction the fallen rider emerged. Two more riders round the bend, both wearing dark tunics. The fading light glints upon the snarling gold masks both wear. One wields a shortbow, and the other a sling. Each of their steeds has a spear fastened to the saddle. They stop their horses abruptly, roughly sixty feet from the satyr, centaur, and minotaur that seem to be aiding the one they are pursuing.
The one who holds the shortbow snarls, "Step away from the heretic, bleeders!"
Initiative:
Sentries: 3 and 12 (16 average)
Party members: Evios 4, Muraz 8, Scufflebutt 5 (8.67 average)
His words are followed immediately by action. Nocking an arrow with blinding speed, he fires at Scufflebutt...
Shortbow attack: 9 | 5 piercing damage
...but his aim is far from true. The arrow sails high over Scufflebutt's head.
The whir of the second sentry's sling can be heard momentarily before it sends a stone hurtling toward Muraz...
Sling attack: 21 | 3 bludgeoning damage
...but his aim is equally poor. The stone strikes the ground a few feet in front of Muraz and ricochets harmlessly into the tall grass near the side of the road.
All players may act in any order. Both sentries stand approximately 60' away, and they are 10' apart.
"It's been much too long, prove you are a worthy opponent!"
Muraz takes action, if someone is looking for a fight, he will give it! He dashes at the sling wielding sentry, closing the gap, and then using Goring Rush as a bonus action.
Evios shoots Muraz a quick glance as if to say, what the HELL are you doing?
Then, perhaps from watching his own father de-escalate situations, or from his own fear of having to fight these two strangers (most likely a little of both), Evios steps forward with one hand out. P-p-please. We do not know this rider, and I only just made the acquaintance of his h-h-horse, which by the way is frightened out of his mind. At the very least, let the horse go. He has d-d-done you no harm. Frustrated at his inability to suppress his frightened stammering, Evios does his best to continue. M-m-my name is Evios, son of Tiri, the wise and powerful druid leader of Clan Bri of the High Forest. I-I-I do not wish to fight you, but I am curious to know what great evil has deemed this, uh, man, a heretic?
Persuasion: 10
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‘The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.’ - Buffy Summers
Centaur, take up arms! It is clear that these riders do not want to talk.
Not one to talk things out after being shot at with an arrow and used to such hostile greetings from thugs, Scufflebutt slips a dagger from her pocket and fires it at the sentry who shot at her. As the dagger flies through the air, she sends another dagger whizzing after it.
Muraz's rush does not catch the sentry by surprise; he quickly darts to his left, avoiding the minotaur's grim-looking horns. Likewise, the bow-wielding sentry crouches low, allowing both of Scufflebutt's daggers to sail harmlessly past.
The bow-wielder then addresses Evios, saying, "Not only a bleeder, but a stutterer. Pathetic."
Offering no explanation for their hostility, both sentries continue their assault. The bow-wielder strides forward a few steps, nocks an arrow, and fires at Evios...
Ranged attack: 14 | 6 piercing damage
...the arrow grazes Evios, leaving a gash in his leather armor but causing no harm.
The sling-wielding sentry seizes his spear from his horse, lowers his stance, and prepares for the ensuing melee with Muraz. Ready to dodge, he awaits the minotaur's response...
All players may act, in any order. Any attack against the now spear-wielding sentry is done with disadvantage.
My equine acquaintance, show yourself useful and blast this mask wearing creep with a magic blast... uhhhh... thing!
Muraz then uses the action Help in the form of kicking up a large amount dirt with his powerful hoof in the face of his enemy in an attempt to negate the disadvantage on attacks.
Evios barely hears the words of his new Minotaur companion, as the sting of "stutterer" from the sentry's lips find their mark. The centaur's cheeks flush with rage and shame simultaneously, but the latter is overcome by the former and Evios moves in even closer (40 ft.) to their attackers. Fearful he might endanger his companions with any rage-filled spells, he attempts to win over the sling wielding sentry.
You have no japes for me, horse rider? Perhaps you are not as flint-hearted as your companion. I have no quarrel with you and do not wish to spill any blood this day. I may be young, I may be fearful, but I am also fierce when needed. Come, let us not be enemies. Allow me to buy you a drink and forget this ugly business.
Scufflebutt's arrow sinks into the bow-wielding sentry's leg with a dull thud. The creature writhes momentarily, but its mask hides any sort of facial expression. He returns fire, this time at the satyr...
Ranged attack: 22 | 8 piercing damage
...and this time, he hits his mark, and an arrow drives deep into Scufflebutt's shoulder. The sentry then drops his bow, grabs his spear, and strides toward Evios and Scufflebutt, apparently unaware that his fellow sentry has bowed out of the fight.
The other sentry, charmed by Evios, stands still, with his spear tip resting on the road. "Bleeders aren't so bad, after all," he remarks.
All players may act, in any order. The bow-wielding sentry now holds a spear in hand and stands 10' in front of Eviosand Scufflebutt and 20' behind Muraz.The other sentry is charmed and stands next to his horse, approximately 10' from Muraz.
Evios strides up to the charmed sentry, takes his face in his hands, and plants a huge mock kiss on the sentry's lips. I love you, too, pal, he says with a grin and a smack on the shoulder.
Turning to the other sentry, Evios holds up his quarterstaff and in a moment has cast Shillelagh upon it. Swiftly and silently the quarterstaff flies in the direction of the bow-wielding sentry.
Quarterstaff: 16 If successful, bludgeoning damage: 10
I may stutter from time to time, but my quarterstaff is always an excellent communicator.
Scufflebutt yanks the arrow out of her shoulder, keeping a straight face when in reality it felt quite painful. Suppressing the pain, she quickly steps forward towards the bow-wielding sentry, pulling out her shortswords in a flash. Attacking with blinding speed, she strikes with her first sword quickly bringing the second down after it.
First shortsword: Attack: 8 Damage: 10
Second: Attack: 15 Damage: 6
Scufflebutt then steps back and takes a disengage action.
Watching the ensuing combat no longer aggravates the minotaur's psyche, but is now giving him the vigor he felt as a warrior on the battlefield. Understanding that the sentry in front of him is no longer a worthy threat, he switches his attention to the other.
Now this is more like it, might just be you two a pint after this one! Might just duel you myself... wee satyr.
He begins to run at the other sentry, attempting to Shove the creature prone.
Muraz causes the sentry to lurch forward, and it remains standing. Barely. It spins, spear in hand, and lunges at the minotaur...
Melee spear attack: 18 | 7 piercing damage
...but the spear tip fails to penetrate Muraz's chain mail.
All players may act, in any order. The charmed sentry stands approximately 30' away, seemingly doing nothing. The spear-wielding sentry is engaged in melee combat with all three of you.
Setessa, the great polis that fuses nature and civilization into a single living organism, lies quietly before you. The dense circle of vegetation that forms its outer wall is clearly visible; so too are the enormous treetops that are magically woven together, providing ample hiding places for the archers you know are guarding this great city.
Normally not a place that welcomes non-citizens, Setessa will be receiving a multitude of visitors for the next few days. The full moon is approaching, which means the Abora is open to outsiders. The Abora—a giant, open-air market that stands just within the eastern gate—will be thronged with people buying and selling food, crafts, and curiosities. Your hope is to barter your unusual trinket for something a bit more practical or desirable. Possibly this will be a journey to Setessa that proves to be worth your while.
The sun sinks low in the west, stretching shadows across the well-traveled road only a mile or so from the polis’s edge. For the past few hours, the three of you have managed to eke out a semblance of a conversation, which is mildly surprising considering your distinct differences and the fact that when you woke up this morning you were complete strangers to one another. At your current rate, you—along with a loose crowd of other travelers—should reach the polis outskirts just before dark.
Not everyone’s moving at a leisurely pace, though.
Behind you, a horse rounds a bend in the road, galloping at top speed. The beast looks frantic, terrified and frothing with exertion. Upon it sways a figure wearing a gold mask. The rider barely manages to stay in the saddle, his body bristling with cruel black arrows.
Blind with panic, the horse plows on, threatening to trample travelers in its path. Before it can, though, the beast’s legs give way. Both mount and rider topple, crashing into the dust with a piercing whinny and a sound like snapping branches.
Evios is far from home. It has been a fortnight since he left Clan Bri in the High Forest of Faerûn. Not quite 18 yet, there was not much of a life left for him with his clan, at least by his own opinion. As is the way of centaurs, the most powerful druid within the clan is the leader, and in Evios' case his leader was also his father, Tiri. From a young age the centaur was aware of his destiny, that of following in his father's hoofsteps and becoming clan leader someday. Few occupations seemed more tiresome than that of clan leader; the drudgery of peace talks with quarreling clans, overseeing the inventory of spring harvest, delivering speeches at infant centaur christenings. It all sounded SO BORING.
Evios desired adventure, intrigue, and carnal pleasures, but he ultimately wanted to show his father that he could become the most powerful druid his clan had ever seen if only given the opportunity. Hoping to quell his son's curiosity of the outside world, Tiri reluctantly agreed to let Evios travel to Setessa in order to see if his son could have some good fortune in exchanging an odd sphere of brass that had come into the clan's possession. Unable to decipher any of the characters etched on the sphere, nor able to attune it with any known magic, the clan had decided to send an emissary to the open air market of Abora within the well-guarded walls of Setessa. Although Evios had agreed to exchange the sphere, he secretly was hoping to find out what it was, what it did, and ultimately keep it for himself. He was sure such independent ingenuity would be well-received when he finally returned home.
And it is here that we catch up with Evios, on the road to the market. Centaurs rarely mingle with other clans, much less other races, so to find himself on a busy highway with humans, leonin, and a multitude of others was overwhelming, exciting, and a little terrifying for the young centaur, however his own fierce pride would not allow him to divulge any of the latter. Evios was somewhat relieved to come upon a satyr and minotaur as these were races he'd come in contact with before. Though no small creature himself, Evios was intimidated by the minotaur's obviously superior strength and would puff his chest out periodically to make himself appear even larger. The young centaur was clearly tongue-tied around the female satyr, having only interacted with females of his own kind. Every time the satyr would speak directly to Evios he would laugh nervously and then inexplicably the crate of chickens being hauled by the traders behind them would begin to cluck in unison. Evios' cheeks would redden at the cacophony of clucking, causing him to nervously laugh even more, creating an endless symphony of anxious centaur laughter and chicken clucks.
It was in the midst of one of these nervous laugh/clucking cacophonies a masked rider haphazardly galloped by. As the rider leaves a cloud of dust swirling amongst the three travelers Evios shouts out Hey! Watch where you're going, horse rider! (These last two words are said with a sneer as centaurs find the mounting of any hooved creature loathsome) Upon seeing both horse and rider crash, the centaur is also in a gallop, coming to a full stop and kneeling in front of the horse.
Speak with Animals: You gain the ability to comprehend and verbally communicate with beasts for the duration. The knowledge and awareness of many beasts is limited by their intelligence, but at minimum, beasts can give you information about nearby locations and monsters, including whatever they can perceive or have perceived within the past day. You might be able to persuade a beast to perform a small favor for you, at the GM's discretion.
Oh, daaaaaaamn. What is your name?!?!? Are you hurt???? Is someone or something chasing you???
‘The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.’ - Buffy Summers
"Growing up as minotuar, you are taught warfare from the day you can hold an axe. My father was a great minotaur berserker who was well respected among my people in Phoberos. The clan of Trika was not by any means a large clan, but we produced well enough soldiers that satisfied the commanding officers. By the age of 15 years old, I was running into battle along side my father and my brother, who is 4 years my elder. I was always taught that fighting and dying for Mogis is the greatest honor a minotaur could strive to find, but as I grew older and understood more of the world, I began to have doubts about the history of the gods and what we were really fighting for. At the age of 25, my father perished in a battle against Iroas's followers over an expanding territory that he was stationed at. My brother told me to be strong and be happy that he died in battle, as anything else would of been dishonorable for such a great warrior. 3 years later my brother died in a dispute with another minotaur over right on spoils of war." Distraught and extremely doubting his faith, Muraz took to wandering the badlands in search of enlightenment.
His journey in the badlands first led him to find a large skeleton of a winged bull from a fallen Archon warrior, minotaur's always feeling some small akin to bovine, he kept the large horn as a keepsake. He had prophetic visions of Klothys, her long strands of hair entwined with destiny, showing to him that while war is a means to defend and honor your people, a resolution most be found between two opposing forces or eventually both will die out. His journey led him to the coast of Odunos, following along the siren sea, being vigilant to avoid Akros as many enemies of minotaurs lie within that region. Muraz then finds himself in Meletis, a city of scholars and magic. Feeling out of place, and also looking out of place, he found intrigue in the philosophy of Nykleans, helping him find peace within his existence.
Though trying to turn over a new leaf in his life, he still found himself prone to his more "aggressive" tendencies. In a town where knowledge is valued above most, some residents took to diminish his character or intelligence due to his outward appearance. Muraz would then take to diminishing their HP and facial structure. Needless to say, residents were becoming unwelcoming to him and he understood it was about time to move on. He deemed that Setessa would be a lucrative venture for him as his journey had not been to monetarily profitable up to this point, along the road he met a kind Leonin who carved the horn he acquired in the badlands into a flute-like instrument.
Upon entering the city he met a satyr and centaur who had just arrived as well, friendly enough... , he thought. As they were scanning the market for any good deals or trades, an injured man atop a horse comes screaming down the path until the horses collapses due to apparent exhaustion. Muraz, seeing the arrows plunged in the mans back, brings his mind to the battlefield, putting him extremely on edge. Seeing the centaur speaking to the collapsed horse, he approaches closer to see if he can identify if this man is a "breed" of warrior he would recognize.
Life is unpredictable. At least in Irini's experience, it is. As a satyr and criminal, there was no telling where she could find herself. Unlike your typical criminal, Irini, or more commonly known by her satyr friends as Scufflebutt, is led by the beauties of something as simple as a leaf swaying in the wind, the scent of freshly baked bread, or a drunken nap in the sun. Many satyrs leave Skola Vale at a young age wanting to experience the many sights of the world, to climb every tree there is to offer, and to wreak havoc at all parties, but for Irini, leaving home was a much more heartbreaking affair. As many know, satyrs, and especially in Skola Vale, have revelries from day to night, drinking themselves into oblivion. As beautiful as their homeland is it is dangerous and highly discouraged for lone satyrs to roam at night for many monsters- cockatrices, harpies, and chimeras- lie in wait for a drunken satyr to satiate their appetite. Unfortunately, Irini's father and only parent was one of these satyrs. Wanting to forget the past and live in the present, she left home at 17. Leaving behind her beautiful homeland and her dear friends, who gave her the loving nickname of Scufflebutt when they were just wee kids (she was known to fight and challenge many of her peers growing up, but all in good spirit), Irini set off to live life to the fullest and fulfill her sense of wonder.
Not really knowing how to provide for herself and never having much care for money, Irini began with pickpocketing strangers who gave off a wealthy stench. Eventually her crimes led her into highway robbery and becoming a member of a rag-tag group of thugs. They stopped wealthy caravans traveling along the roads, stealing and having no cares in the world. Every night was a party, but after walking past the homeless and the suffering for so long in the towns, while being drunk off good wine and greasy food, Irini wanted to do more. She disbanded from her group, becoming a solo highwayman, stealing from the rich, and giving back to the poor. Being alone for nearly ten years has made her a skilled fighter and prepared for almost any situation, yet she is immensely grateful for her trustworthy contact who acts as a liasion to a network of criminals. Nowadays, Irini doesn't need much. A tree to sleep in, some good wine to drink, and adventure is all she needs to keep her satisfied in life.
Setessa was next on her list of places to see. She'd heard of its beauty and after picking up an odd mechanical canary that does not shut up once dawn hits from a caravan she had robbed, she decided she might as well try to exchange it for something more of use to her. She had made acquaintances with an intimidating minotaur, which to be honest she had seen much scarier, and a young centaur who she seemed to make nervous, which made her laugh on the inside. She was enjoying their company and the conversations they were carrying on, as she spent much of her time alone, when suddenly her ears pick up on the chaotic clopping of hooves and an arrow ridden man riding the beast fly past them and collapse ahead of them on the road. As the centaur checks on the man and the minotaur approaches them, Irini focuses in on where the horse rounded the corner, preparing for anything else to come chasing after.
Evios approaches the fallen horse and rider and, in a moment's glance, discerns the horse is suffering from exhaustion. A multitude of mild abrasions decorate the beast's body, but no serious injury seems to have befallen her. Evios reads the word Photina in simple tooling on the creature's bridle, revealing the horse's name.
Panicked and breathing heavily, the horse responds to the centaur. "I am Photina. Small injuries. Great weariness. We are pursued!"
Muraz, no stranger to the sight of death, can tell immediately that the person is no longer alive. As the minotaur begins to kneel near the rider, he is struck by the lifeless, gray skin, the wounds that weep black blood, and, most of all, the strange mask that still covers the rider's face. Muraz recognizes it as a funerary mask, but this one--rather than being made of clay, as is customary in Theros--has been cast in gold.
Any further investigation that Evios and Muraz might wish to make is interrupted by Scufflebutt, who dryly alerts them to the approach of two more riders. "It seems we're about to learn who dislikes this fellow so much."
The sound of racing hooves rises like rolling thunder from the direction the fallen rider emerged. Two more riders round the bend, both wearing dark tunics. The fading light glints upon the snarling gold masks both wear. One wields a shortbow, and the other a sling. Each of their steeds has a spear fastened to the saddle. They stop their horses abruptly, roughly sixty feet from the satyr, centaur, and minotaur that seem to be aiding the one they are pursuing.
The one who holds the shortbow snarls, "Step away from the heretic, bleeders!"
Initiative:
His words are followed immediately by action. Nocking an arrow with blinding speed, he fires at Scufflebutt...
Shortbow attack: 9 | 5 piercing damage
...but his aim is far from true. The arrow sails high over Scufflebutt's head.
The whir of the second sentry's sling can be heard momentarily before it sends a stone hurtling toward Muraz...
Sling attack: 21 | 3 bludgeoning damage
...but his aim is equally poor. The stone strikes the ground a few feet in front of Muraz and ricochets harmlessly into the tall grass near the side of the road.
All players may act in any order. Both sentries stand approximately 60' away, and they are 10' apart.
"It's been much too long, prove you are a worthy opponent!"
Muraz takes action, if someone is looking for a fight, he will give it! He dashes at the sling wielding sentry, closing the gap, and then using Goring Rush as a bonus action.
Attack: 7 Damage: 8
Evios shoots Muraz a quick glance as if to say, what the HELL are you doing?
Then, perhaps from watching his own father de-escalate situations, or from his own fear of having to fight these two strangers (most likely a little of both), Evios steps forward with one hand out. P-p-please. We do not know this rider, and I only just made the acquaintance of his h-h-horse, which by the way is frightened out of his mind. At the very least, let the horse go. He has d-d-done you no harm. Frustrated at his inability to suppress his frightened stammering, Evios does his best to continue. M-m-my name is Evios, son of Tiri, the wise and powerful druid leader of Clan Bri of the High Forest. I-I-I do not wish to fight you, but I am curious to know what great evil has deemed this, uh, man, a heretic?
Persuasion: 10
‘The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.’ - Buffy Summers
Centaur, take up arms! It is clear that these riders do not want to talk.
Not one to talk things out after being shot at with an arrow and used to such hostile greetings from thugs, Scufflebutt slips a dagger from her pocket and fires it at the sentry who shot at her. As the dagger flies through the air, she sends another dagger whizzing after it.
Attack: 13 Damage: 7
Attack: 19 Damage: 4
Muraz's rush does not catch the sentry by surprise; he quickly darts to his left, avoiding the minotaur's grim-looking horns. Likewise, the bow-wielding sentry crouches low, allowing both of Scufflebutt's daggers to sail harmlessly past.
The bow-wielder then addresses Evios, saying, "Not only a bleeder, but a stutterer. Pathetic."
Offering no explanation for their hostility, both sentries continue their assault. The bow-wielder strides forward a few steps, nocks an arrow, and fires at Evios...
Ranged attack: 14 | 6 piercing damage
...the arrow grazes Evios, leaving a gash in his leather armor but causing no harm.
The sling-wielding sentry seizes his spear from his horse, lowers his stance, and prepares for the ensuing melee with Muraz. Ready to dodge, he awaits the minotaur's response...
All players may act, in any order. Any attack against the now spear-wielding sentry is done with disadvantage.
My equine acquaintance, show yourself useful and blast this mask wearing creep with a magic blast... uhhhh... thing!
Muraz then uses the action Help in the form of kicking up a large amount dirt with his powerful hoof in the face of his enemy in an attempt to negate the disadvantage on attacks.
Evios barely hears the words of his new Minotaur companion, as the sting of "stutterer" from the sentry's lips find their mark. The centaur's cheeks flush with rage and shame simultaneously, but the latter is overcome by the former and Evios moves in even closer (40 ft.) to their attackers. Fearful he might endanger his companions with any rage-filled spells, he attempts to win over the sling wielding sentry.
Charm Person
You have no japes for me, horse rider? Perhaps you are not as flint-hearted as your companion. I have no quarrel with you and do not wish to spill any blood this day. I may be young, I may be fearful, but I am also fierce when needed. Come, let us not be enemies. Allow me to buy you a drink and forget this ugly business.
‘The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.’ - Buffy Summers
WIS save for sentry vs. Evios' spell: 9
Evios's words reach the sentry's ears, and immediately he lowers the point of his spear, indicating that, for now, he will forgo the fight.
Action for Scufflebutt is next, followed by the sentries.
Scufflebutt doesn't let her daggers not hitting their target deter her, and instead draws her shortbow and takes a shot at the bow-wielding sentry.
Let us see which one of us is the greater archer.
Attack: 15 Damage: 5
Scufflebutt's arrow sinks into the bow-wielding sentry's leg with a dull thud. The creature writhes momentarily, but its mask hides any sort of facial expression. He returns fire, this time at the satyr...
Ranged attack: 22 | 8 piercing damage
...and this time, he hits his mark, and an arrow drives deep into Scufflebutt's shoulder. The sentry then drops his bow, grabs his spear, and strides toward Evios and Scufflebutt, apparently unaware that his fellow sentry has bowed out of the fight.
The other sentry, charmed by Evios, stands still, with his spear tip resting on the road. "Bleeders aren't so bad, after all," he remarks.
All players may act, in any order. The bow-wielding sentry now holds a spear in hand and stands 10' in front of Evios and Scufflebutt and 20' behind Muraz. The other sentry is charmed and stands next to his horse, approximately 10' from Muraz.
Evios strides up to the charmed sentry, takes his face in his hands, and plants a huge mock kiss on the sentry's lips. I love you, too, pal, he says with a grin and a smack on the shoulder.
Turning to the other sentry, Evios holds up his quarterstaff and in a moment has cast Shillelagh upon it. Swiftly and silently the quarterstaff flies in the direction of the bow-wielding sentry.
Quarterstaff: 16 If successful, bludgeoning damage: 10
I may stutter from time to time, but my quarterstaff is always an excellent communicator.
‘The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.’ - Buffy Summers
Just a lil' bit of a splinter, innit'?
Scufflebutt yanks the arrow out of her shoulder, keeping a straight face when in reality it felt quite painful. Suppressing the pain, she quickly steps forward towards the bow-wielding sentry, pulling out her shortswords in a flash. Attacking with blinding speed, she strikes with her first sword quickly bringing the second down after it.
First shortsword: Attack: 8 Damage: 10
Second: Attack: 15 Damage: 6
Scufflebutt then steps back and takes a disengage action.
Watching the ensuing combat no longer aggravates the minotaur's psyche, but is now giving him the vigor he felt as a warrior on the battlefield. Understanding that the sentry in front of him is no longer a worthy threat, he switches his attention to the other.
Now this is more like it, might just be you two a pint after this one! Might just duel you myself... wee satyr.
He begins to run at the other sentry, attempting to Shove the creature prone.
Athletic's Roll: 11
Athletics check for shoved sentry:12
Muraz causes the sentry to lurch forward, and it remains standing. Barely. It spins, spear in hand, and lunges at the minotaur...
Melee spear attack: 18 | 7 piercing damage
...but the spear tip fails to penetrate Muraz's chain mail.
All players may act, in any order. The charmed sentry stands approximately 30' away, seemingly doing nothing. The spear-wielding sentry is engaged in melee combat with all three of you.
Evios swings his quarterstaff at the bow-wielding sentry once more. I guess my message wasn't clear the first time.
Quarterstaff w/Shillelagh: 24 If successful, bludgeoning damage: 7
‘The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.’ - Buffy Summers
The sentry falls violently to the ground, and its spear rolls across the road. It makes no sound and no movement.
The other sentry remains charmed and standing by his horse, with its spear still held loosely in its hand. "Ah, well done, centaur. Well done!"