Tadriel grabs the flier and hands it to the gnome, "I believe this is our proverbial foot in the door."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
An amber glow falls over the horizon, the golden skies cascading a yellow hue over the city. From outside the gates, the Westgulf Tradepost looks almost like it is made entirely of gold. The sun is starting to set, and a gentle fog begins to mist over the earth. The area is generally barren, as there is little to no reason to be out here compared to all the business going on inside. And that's when you spot the wagon. A queue has formed leading up to it. You can see at least 12 other rag tag adventurers lined up, waiting to register.
A young nobleman in luxurious clothing lays atop a wagon with his feathered hat covering his face, the tanned hide of the roof protecting him from the hot fading sunlight. One of his legs is dangling over the edge in boredom, flowing back and forth as he waits impatiently for his assistant to finish his paperwork. At the end of the queue, a Tiefling wearing a white shirt with a dark pinstriped vest and straightened pants stands holding a stack of parchment in one hand and his gilded pocket watch in the other. His horns appear to be shaven off, almost to little stumps. He is handing out forms to the others in the line as they work their way up, checking his watch every few times.
"The line is too long and the sun is nearing the horizon. Perhap a bit of mischief is needed to secure our spot."
The gnome shows a devious smile while hiding behind his elf companion on the line.
I would like to cast Pretidigitation to those in front of us with the following effects: a puff of wind, the sound of flatulence, and an odd foul smell.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Believer of the almighty one, the Alpha and the Omega, whose love encompasses all of his creations, RNGesus.
Started as a player at time of registration. Started to DM a month later. Hoping to get better as time progresses.
"Tadriel, though some have known me by the title of Wraith. I am more-or-less a traveller these days."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Detective Krimple creates the illusion on the man in front of him. His companions turn around and shoot him a strange look as the man freezes up, almost certain he actually just passed gas himself. Coughs and gags start springing up further down the line.
It doesn't take long before the young nobleman gets fed up with the bureaucracy of his assistant. He springs up from his position and sits on the edge of the wagon and calls out,
"Leucis, this is taking forever, is there any way to speed this up?"
The Tiefling rubs between his eyebrows, clearly he's dealt with this type of behavior before.
"No sire, we need everyone to get registered and conduct interviews before we can even think of--"
The young nobleman cuts him off mid sentence to interject rudely,
"I have a better idea. How about we have a contest, and the winners get the job instead?"
You can see a few heads in the line look around, some in confusion, some in excitement. The promise of a competition instead of paperwork gets most of the line riled up, as action tends to be more their style than lines and paperwork.
"Wot sort o contest, m'lord?"
A massive man with an even more massive greatmaul yells out. You can tell by looking at this one that what he lacks in intelligence, he makes up for in even more brute strength.
"How about this: We split you into groups and pit you against each other. Last standing group gets the job!"
Cheers erupt from the crowd as Leucis facepalms. He has lost all authority over the group at this point. All attention is now directed at the young nobleman, hanging off the edge of the wagon, cheering the crowd on. He starts counting out the number of adventurers that have shown up,
"Alright then, I can see about 16 of you all, so how about groups of 4? Let's see, you you you aaaand you, you you you aaand you..."
The nobleman starts counting out groups from the crowd in groups of four, as his hand passes over, you can see that you've all been grouped together. Packs of adventurers start shaking hands, getting to know each other, and then drawing their weapons. Leucis shouts out about not wanting any murders, and that the last thing they need is a body count. He obviously cares more about the noble house far more than the young man.
"Group A over here, group B over here, C there and D there."
You have all been placed in 'Group B.' Across the clearing, you can see the other group, Group A, about 40ft away. They are standing there eagerly waiting for the call to fight. You can see a female Water Genasi holding a staff, probably a magic user, their hair flowing in the wind looks almost like they're underwater somehow. Next to them is a burly looking human man with a mace and shield, his armor has seen better days and looks like it has been handed down over several generations. A confident looking male Elf dressed in leather armor with his face shrouded by a cloak, stands next to him a single dagger. And then there is the last fellow: A red Kobold stumbling around drunkenly, holding a crossbow wearing nothing but a quiver and a loincloth.
It's eerily quiet as all groups wait for the go-ahead. Dust and dirt kicks up from the earth, flowing in the wisps of the wind. The young man holds his hand high in the air as Leucis tugs on his leg, begging him to shut this whole thing down. He then throws his hand and shouts out,
"Fight!"
Alright, let's do this :)
Everyone roll initiative and describe your formations and whatnot. If it is NOT your turn in combat, you can still post, but limit it to RP chatter please. Don't take an action unless it's your turn or you have a special reaction or something to use in between.
Remember to roll for attack and damage at the same time to keep things speedy. And have fun! This looks like it will be the 'last fight of the day' so feel free to use any spell slots. Don't pull any punches. (unless it's to not murder someone, haha)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
While waiting for the start of the battle, Detective Krimple casts Mage Armor on himself and turns to his group.
"If one of you is willing, I can cast another Mage Armor though you'll have to be unarmored to gain its benefits. As for my spells, I'm afraid to say I only have access to some of them due to the fact I'm missing some materials. I'll be positioning myself at the far back since I can't take hits that much."
Initiative: 8.
I'll cast Mage Armor to the first one who wants it before the battle.
With a wide grin on his face, Flaysteir starts to move his scimitars around. He looks over his team, greeting a fellow elf in Elvish, and others in commo"Name is Flaysteir Greycloud, nice to meet you all. What do you specialize at?", he asks looking over the whole group.
He also gives a brief look to the other group mockingly chuckling towards them.
"I think we should take care of that Aasimar, what do you say?"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Initiative: 6. Tadriel will stand right behind the one with the most armor, then move to flank on contact. He will take the Mage Armor unless someone else has lower AC (<15) or it doesn't stack with Unarmored Defense.
A blade flashes from a tucked-away scabbard, its curved blade threatening to slice flesh just in passing. "Tadriel the Wraith, I'll take the kobold, then the water-woman." As he steps near the front, he begins to mutter a mantra.
Earth gives center / Water to guide / Fire of passions / Air grants clarity / Light breeds Shadow / Shadow gives meaning to Light / No Life lived without Death / No Death without a Life celebrated / Eight watch over your servant, the Wraith of Shadow and Death.
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Hi everyone sorry I'm late to the party... I dont mind if you guys wanna replace me or write me in but I lost internet so I couldn't join and I'm a bit behind. Sorry again.
A grim smile passes Darak's lips, as he slides the warhammer from its harness. Striking it against his shield he calls out.
"Moradin, let me serve you well."
Initiative 8
"Darak Keenedge, War Priest of Moradin, I look forward to proper introductions later, for now I'd say take out the casters first, then use out numbers to overwhelm the remainder"
The overzealous Elf charges forward, kicking up bits of dirt with each step covering the 40ft distance to your group with a breeze. Suddenly, there is a quiet whooshing noise as he casts Misty Step and vanishes before your eyes, only to appear behind Flaysteir, dagger drawn.
The Kobold is startled by the sudden movements of his teammate and brandishes his crossbow...
4
He aims in your direction but as he shoots, the massive weapon kicks too hard and sends the bolt flying in the air. He stumbles backwards and falls Prone. A faint hiccup is heard in the distance.
The random looking D4 was my drunken die for the Kobold. Stuff like this might pop up in combat.
As Flaysteir wants to move towards Water Genasi, he notices the elf appear behind him and suddenly turns around trying to strike him with his scimitar , leading up with another swing with his second scimitar. "Whoops, sorry, I'm going to deal with this one for now", he directs the group.
" How much would you like to be hurt?", in elven he gently asks the elf with dagger.
After which he moves behind the elf so his back would not be xposed for the other group.
The gnome starts to speak in a deep voice monologue.
"It was my turn to take action but things doesn't move as to what I expect to be, like a kid perplexed to see a tumbleweed in the middle of winter. As the elf appears in the middle of our group, like a fat salmon dropped from the sky in the middle of a group of hungry bears waiting to get their bite, I cast Ray of Frost to slow his movement. I move far away to the back just enough to get in range to hit him once again with the same spell."
Attack: 19 Damage: 6 Cold damage
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Believer of the almighty one, the Alpha and the Omega, whose love encompasses all of his creations, RNGesus.
Started as a player at time of registration. Started to DM a month later. Hoping to get better as time progresses.
Moving to flank the human who has barreled forward Darak takes a swing at him and then calling out to his god receives a burst of energy which he uses to launch another attack.
Movement so that Darak is slightly closer to the enemy group than the others what in melee range of the human.
Attack with warhammer 18 damage 4
Uses [ability]War Priest[/ability]
Attack with warhammer 19 damage 11
Edit: if the first attack kills him then obviously I wouldn't take the second.
Flaysteir's charge is cut short by the nimble Elf. With a dagger pressed against him, he swiftly rolls around to get a couple blows in. The roguish Elf ducks under the first swing, but is just barely caught off guard by the second and takes a slash against his leg. He reels in pain.
"Bastard! I'll have your throat!"
The Elf shouts, as he grasps his leg, but it's not long until Detective Krimple is on the case. He paces backward a few steps and launches out a ray of icy frost towards the Elf while he is vulnerable from fighting with Flaysteir.
So, Krimple, 'how do you want to do this?' ;)
The Elf has been dealt with, contacting Darak to see what he would like to do instead (using the same roll results, just different target)
The gnome continues his monologue even though others can hear him.
"I look at him with an unflinching gaze as the streak of cold blue light hits his body like a rampaging moose buffeted by an avalanche created by itself, the elf drops down cold and unconcious to the ground, soaked with the heat of the blazing sun."
Tadriel grabs the flier and hands it to the gnome, "I believe this is our proverbial foot in the door."
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
The gnome tugs on the elf's clothes.
"You know elf, we both walked for a bit and I still haven't asked you your name. You already know mine from my previous introduction at Amurum's shop.
I don't mind working with strangers though."
An amber glow falls over the horizon, the golden skies cascading a yellow hue over the city. From outside the gates, the Westgulf Tradepost looks almost like it is made entirely of gold. The sun is starting to set, and a gentle fog begins to mist over the earth. The area is generally barren, as there is little to no reason to be out here compared to all the business going on inside. And that's when you spot the wagon. A queue has formed leading up to it. You can see at least 12 other rag tag adventurers lined up, waiting to register.
A young nobleman in luxurious clothing lays atop a wagon with his feathered hat covering his face, the tanned hide of the roof protecting him from the hot fading sunlight. One of his legs is dangling over the edge in boredom, flowing back and forth as he waits impatiently for his assistant to finish his paperwork. At the end of the queue, a Tiefling wearing a white shirt with a dark pinstriped vest and straightened pants stands holding a stack of parchment in one hand and his gilded pocket watch in the other. His horns appear to be shaven off, almost to little stumps. He is handing out forms to the others in the line as they work their way up, checking his watch every few times.
DM : The Shade Over Runewarren | Vaelen Gravesong : Shadow of Eternal Night
"Fear is the weight we carry, love is the treasure we bury."
"The line is too long and the sun is nearing the horizon. Perhap a bit of mischief is needed to secure our spot."
The gnome shows a devious smile while hiding behind his elf companion on the line.
I would like to cast Pretidigitation to those in front of us with the following effects: a puff of wind, the sound of flatulence, and an odd foul smell.
(Before leaving for the gate...)
"Tadriel, though some have known me by the title of Wraith. I am more-or-less a traveller these days."
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
"Hmmm, maybe a spot of competition, ah well Moradin guide me as you see fit."
Darak marches towards the queue taking his place in the line without any fanfare.
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
Juggling with his scimitars, Flaysteir swiftly moved to the queue waiting for his turn.
Detective Krimple creates the illusion on the man in front of him. His companions turn around and shoot him a strange look as the man freezes up, almost certain he actually just passed gas himself. Coughs and gags start springing up further down the line.
It doesn't take long before the young nobleman gets fed up with the bureaucracy of his assistant. He springs up from his position and sits on the edge of the wagon and calls out,
"Leucis, this is taking forever, is there any way to speed this up?"
The Tiefling rubs between his eyebrows, clearly he's dealt with this type of behavior before.
"No sire, we need everyone to get registered and conduct interviews before we can even think of--"
The young nobleman cuts him off mid sentence to interject rudely,
"I have a better idea. How about we have a contest, and the winners get the job instead?"
You can see a few heads in the line look around, some in confusion, some in excitement. The promise of a competition instead of paperwork gets most of the line riled up, as action tends to be more their style than lines and paperwork.
"Wot sort o contest, m'lord?"
A massive man with an even more massive greatmaul yells out. You can tell by looking at this one that what he lacks in intelligence, he makes up for in even more brute strength.
"How about this: We split you into groups and pit you against each other. Last standing group gets the job!"
Cheers erupt from the crowd as Leucis facepalms. He has lost all authority over the group at this point. All attention is now directed at the young nobleman, hanging off the edge of the wagon, cheering the crowd on. He starts counting out the number of adventurers that have shown up,
"Alright then, I can see about 16 of you all, so how about groups of 4? Let's see, you you you aaaand you, you you you aaand you..."
The nobleman starts counting out groups from the crowd in groups of four, as his hand passes over, you can see that you've all been grouped together. Packs of adventurers start shaking hands, getting to know each other, and then drawing their weapons. Leucis shouts out about not wanting any murders, and that the last thing they need is a body count. He obviously cares more about the noble house far more than the young man.
"Group A over here, group B over here, C there and D there."
You have all been placed in 'Group B.' Across the clearing, you can see the other group, Group A, about 40ft away. They are standing there eagerly waiting for the call to fight. You can see a female Water Genasi holding a staff, probably a magic user, their hair flowing in the wind looks almost like they're underwater somehow. Next to them is a burly looking human man with a mace and shield, his armor has seen better days and looks like it has been handed down over several generations. A confident looking male Elf dressed in leather armor with his face shrouded by a cloak, stands next to him a single dagger. And then there is the last fellow: A red Kobold stumbling around drunkenly, holding a crossbow wearing nothing but a quiver and a loincloth.
It's eerily quiet as all groups wait for the go-ahead. Dust and dirt kicks up from the earth, flowing in the wisps of the wind. The young man holds his hand high in the air as Leucis tugs on his leg, begging him to shut this whole thing down. He then throws his hand and shouts out,
"Fight!"
Alright, let's do this :)
Everyone roll initiative and describe your formations and whatnot. If it is NOT your turn in combat, you can still post, but limit it to RP chatter please. Don't take an action unless it's your turn or you have a special reaction or something to use in between.
Remember to roll for attack and damage at the same time to keep things speedy. And have fun! This looks like it will be the 'last fight of the day' so feel free to use any spell slots. Don't pull any punches. (unless it's to not murder someone, haha)
Initiative for 'Group A'
DM : The Shade Over Runewarren | Vaelen Gravesong : Shadow of Eternal Night
"Fear is the weight we carry, love is the treasure we bury."
While waiting for the start of the battle, Detective Krimple casts Mage Armor on himself and turns to his group.
"If one of you is willing, I can cast another Mage Armor though you'll have to be unarmored to gain its benefits. As for my spells, I'm afraid to say I only have access to some of them due to the fact I'm missing some materials. I'll be positioning myself at the far back since I can't take hits that much."
Initiative: 8.
I'll cast Mage Armor to the first one who wants it before the battle.
With a wide grin on his face, Flaysteir starts to move his scimitars around. He looks over his team, greeting a fellow elf in Elvish, and others in commo"Name is Flaysteir Greycloud, nice to meet you all. What do you specialize at?", he asks looking over the whole group.
He also gives a brief look to the other group mockingly chuckling towards them.
"I think we should take care of that Aasimar, what do you say?"
Initiative: 13
Initiative: 6. Tadriel will stand right behind the one with the most armor, then move to flank on contact. He will take the Mage Armor unless someone else has lower AC (<15) or it doesn't stack with Unarmored Defense.
A blade flashes from a tucked-away scabbard, its curved blade threatening to slice flesh just in passing. "Tadriel the Wraith, I'll take the kobold, then the water-woman." As he steps near the front, he begins to mutter a mantra.
Earth gives center / Water to guide / Fire of passions / Air grants clarity / Light breeds Shadow / Shadow gives meaning to Light / No Life lived without Death / No Death without a Life celebrated / Eight watch over your servant, the Wraith of Shadow and Death.
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Hi everyone sorry I'm late to the party... I dont mind if you guys wanna replace me or write me in but I lost internet so I couldn't join and I'm a bit behind. Sorry again.
A grim smile passes Darak's lips, as he slides the warhammer from its harness. Striking it against his shield he calls out.
"Moradin, let me serve you well."
Initiative 8
"Darak Keenedge, War Priest of Moradin, I look forward to proper introductions later, for now I'd say take out the casters first, then use out numbers to overwhelm the remainder"
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
Initiative Order
DM : The Shade Over Runewarren | Vaelen Gravesong : Shadow of Eternal Night
"Fear is the weight we carry, love is the treasure we bury."
The overzealous Elf charges forward, kicking up bits of dirt with each step covering the 40ft distance to your group with a breeze. Suddenly, there is a quiet whooshing noise as he casts Misty Step and vanishes before your eyes, only to appear behind Flaysteir, dagger drawn.
The Kobold is startled by the sudden movements of his teammate and brandishes his crossbow...
4
He aims in your direction but as he shoots, the massive weapon kicks too hard and sends the bolt flying in the air. He stumbles backwards and falls Prone. A faint hiccup is heard in the distance.
The random looking D4 was my drunken die for the Kobold. Stuff like this might pop up in combat.
DM : The Shade Over Runewarren | Vaelen Gravesong : Shadow of Eternal Night
"Fear is the weight we carry, love is the treasure we bury."
As Flaysteir wants to move towards Water Genasi, he notices the elf appear behind him and suddenly turns around trying to strike him with his scimitar , leading up with another swing with his second scimitar. "Whoops, sorry, I'm going to deal with this one for now", he directs the group.
" How much would you like to be hurt?", in elven he gently asks the elf with dagger.
After which he moves behind the elf so his back would not be xposed for the other group.
Attack: 3 Damage: 2
Attack: 12 Damage: 4
The gnome starts to speak in a deep voice monologue.
"It was my turn to take action but things doesn't move as to what I expect to be, like a kid perplexed to see a tumbleweed in the middle of winter. As the elf appears in the middle of our group, like a fat salmon dropped from the sky in the middle of a group of hungry bears waiting to get their bite, I cast Ray of Frost to slow his movement. I move far away to the back just enough to get in range to hit him once again with the same spell."
Attack: 19 Damage: 6 Cold damage
Moving to flank the human who has barreled forward Darak takes a swing at him and then calling out to his god receives a burst of energy which he uses to launch another attack.
Movement so that Darak is slightly closer to the enemy group than the others what in melee range of the human.
Attack with warhammer 18 damage 4
Uses [ability]War Priest[/ability]
Attack with warhammer 19 damage 11
Edit: if the first attack kills him then obviously I wouldn't take the second.
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
Flaysteir's charge is cut short by the nimble Elf. With a dagger pressed against him, he swiftly rolls around to get a couple blows in. The roguish Elf ducks under the first swing, but is just barely caught off guard by the second and takes a slash against his leg. He reels in pain.
"Bastard! I'll have your throat!"
The Elf shouts, as he grasps his leg, but it's not long until Detective Krimple is on the case. He paces backward a few steps and launches out a ray of icy frost towards the Elf while he is vulnerable from fighting with Flaysteir.
So, Krimple, 'how do you want to do this?' ;)
The Elf has been dealt with, contacting Darak to see what he would like to do instead (using the same roll results, just different target)
DM : The Shade Over Runewarren | Vaelen Gravesong : Shadow of Eternal Night
"Fear is the weight we carry, love is the treasure we bury."
The gnome continues his monologue even though others can hear him.
"I look at him with an unflinching gaze as the streak of cold blue light hits his body like a rampaging moose buffeted by an avalanche created by itself, the elf drops down cold and unconcious to the ground, soaked with the heat of the blazing sun."