As they ride in the wagon Robin will cast detect magic on the items again. This time she is meerly looking for what school of magic each is of, not trying to identify them or figure out how they work.
As they ride in the wagon Robin will cast detect magic on the items again. This time she is meerly looking for what school of magic each is of, not trying to identify them or figure out how they work.
"Does anyone mind if I take the wand for now?" She asks, picking it up. She tells the others what she senses of the items in general, but lets them know this in no way informs them exactly what the item does, just what sort of magic is in it.
Draanel reaches out and grabs the dagger, "Don't mind this if no-one else is havin it. Might match my other one!"Looking around at the others in the cart as it moves along, "So, nuff about these little trinkets, let's talk about how we are gonna handle this thing? Kier an I can scout around and get the lay of the land, maybe we try and lure this collecter into an ambush. Dunno how the rest of you like to work..."
"I would like to learn a bit more about it, prior to attempting to face it." Robin says with a frown. "We know nothing about the thing, so we could set ourself up for failure if we simply go in swinging." She glances around at the others in the wagon with her. "My suggestion is we do some information gathering first, seeing if the thing has any weaknesses we can use against it, and, possibly, scout out a place we can fight the thing with an advantage rather than just any old place."
"you are right Robin" shouts Albert from the top of the cart "and I want to know from the survivors what... Happened to make it appear and it's behavior and such..."
Rakim shrugs, "I don't much care about what we do beforehand. As long as we do it in style. As far as the rest of the strategy, you all might be more suited to that than I." With that, the satyr goes back to feeding small morsels of food to Errol who recently woke up.
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“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
As you leave the city limits of Sire and the rich patchwork of farmland that surrounds it, you settle yourselves in for the long journey. You and the guards (who are crowded in their own rustic cart trailing you) are able to communicate well enough. The captain who spoke to you earlier is driving, Lork settled next to her, with his eyes barley poking over the horses towing them along.
The sun slowly starts it's daily decline, smearing the sky with blood.
You wind up lost in thought as the grasslands start giving way to bundles of trees. The sun is now nearly set and the guards recommend stopping for camp.
Rakim nods and hops out of the carriage. He does whatever he can to help set up camp, and starts playing a jovial travel tune as they cook their evening meal.
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“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
"How many days travel is it again to our destination?" Robin asks as she aids in setting up camp for the night.
The Captain of the Guard answers:"Another day and a half if all goes well." Her face is illuminated by the now crackling fire, where a lot of the guards are huddling around, telling stories, and introducing themselves to you. Lork unpacks his dinner, some salted meats and cheese wrapped for travel. He fumbles with the meat, but in the blink of an eye the captain draws her sword and skewers it before it hits the ground. She turns to examine each of you. "I heard there was a disturbance in Sir Vadamal's chambers. I'm curious about it." Her eyes narrow. "Care to explain what happened?"
"Not really much to explain. We had a meeting, Vadamal's office turned out not to be the best place for it, so moved into the corridor. We were told not to worry about the reasons, so I guess neither should you." The little goblin brushes off the question with a curt tone. "No point spreadin' rumors, and the Stand seems more of a 'need to know' hierarchy. Lork might tell you more."
Robin shrugs and nods to the little goblin. "Seems apt." She says out loud. With another shrug she moves to a spot she can pull out her spellbook and study her spells by the light of the fire.
The captain doesn't seem satisfied with the answer but does not press further. Finally the sun disappears from view and stars litter the night sky. The moon is shaded behind a patch of clouds.
The guards seem to be taking shifts for watch. Are any of you taking taking watch for a bit as well, or simply going to sleep?
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As they ride in the wagon Robin will cast detect magic on the items again. This time she is meerly looking for what school of magic each is of, not trying to identify them or figure out how they work.
Wand - Evocation
Locket - Evocation
Ring - Necromancy
Orb - Abjuration
Dagger - ???
"Does anyone mind if I take the wand for now?" She asks, picking it up. She tells the others what she senses of the items in general, but lets them know this in no way informs them exactly what the item does, just what sort of magic is in it.
Rakim shrugs. He already got the most stylish item so everything else is really up for grabs.
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
Albert replies:
"I have no rush nor trust for magic trinkets until we know what they do, I can do without for the time being"
Robin will keep anything no one else wishes to take, but will likely only put them in her pack for now.
Draanel reaches out and grabs the dagger, "Don't mind this if no-one else is havin it. Might match my other one!" Looking around at the others in the cart as it moves along, "So, nuff about these little trinkets, let's talk about how we are gonna handle this thing? Kier an I can scout around and get the lay of the land, maybe we try and lure this collecter into an ambush. Dunno how the rest of you like to work..."
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
"I would like to learn a bit more about it, prior to attempting to face it." Robin says with a frown. "We know nothing about the thing, so we could set ourself up for failure if we simply go in swinging." She glances around at the others in the wagon with her. "My suggestion is we do some information gathering first, seeing if the thing has any weaknesses we can use against it, and, possibly, scout out a place we can fight the thing with an advantage rather than just any old place."
"you are right Robin" shouts Albert from the top of the cart "and I want to know from the survivors what... Happened to make it appear and it's behavior and such..."
Rakim shrugs, "I don't much care about what we do beforehand. As long as we do it in style. As far as the rest of the strategy, you all might be more suited to that than I." With that, the satyr goes back to feeding small morsels of food to Errol who recently woke up.
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
As you leave the city limits of Sire and the rich patchwork of farmland that surrounds it, you settle yourselves in for the long journey. You and the guards (who are crowded in their own rustic cart trailing you) are able to communicate well enough. The captain who spoke to you earlier is driving, Lork settled next to her, with his eyes barley poking over the horses towing them along.
The sun slowly starts it's daily decline, smearing the sky with blood.
ALBERT
(Please make a Perception Check)
Perception 21
You wind up lost in thought as the grasslands start giving way to bundles of trees. The sun is now nearly set and the guards recommend stopping for camp.
Rakim nods and hops out of the carriage. He does whatever he can to help set up camp, and starts playing a jovial travel tune as they cook their evening meal.
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
"How many days travel is it again to our destination?" Robin asks as she aids in setting up camp for the night.
Albert is pretty tired after guiding.
If none asks for help, he will relax and polish his beloved halberd
The Captain of the Guard answers: "Another day and a half if all goes well." Her face is illuminated by the now crackling fire, where a lot of the guards are huddling around, telling stories, and introducing themselves to you. Lork unpacks his dinner, some salted meats and cheese wrapped for travel. He fumbles with the meat, but in the blink of an eye the captain draws her sword and skewers it before it hits the ground.
She turns to examine each of you. "I heard there was a disturbance in Sir Vadamal's chambers. I'm curious about it." Her eyes narrow. "Care to explain what happened?"
"Not really much to explain. We had a meeting, Vadamal's office turned out not to be the best place for it, so moved into the corridor. We were told not to worry about the reasons, so I guess neither should you." The little goblin brushes off the question with a curt tone. "No point spreadin' rumors, and the Stand seems more of a 'need to know' hierarchy. Lork might tell you more."
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
Robin shrugs and nods to the little goblin. "Seems apt." She says out loud. With another shrug she moves to a spot she can pull out her spellbook and study her spells by the light of the fire.
The captain doesn't seem satisfied with the answer but does not press further. Finally the sun disappears from view and stars litter the night sky. The moon is shaded behind a patch of clouds.
The guards seem to be taking shifts for watch. Are any of you taking taking watch for a bit as well, or simply going to sleep?