This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Eldon still seems lost in thought, and is actually relieved to not go into the village, and not offended at all by the comments. At the stream, he looks for a way across- trying to see how animals may be crossing.
Narrakas muses about the mudflats. He finds the scent, while pungent, not repulsive to his goblin sensibilities. It might even feel nice on the skin.
Mad Mardigan, fueled by a surge of determination, took a few steps back, eyeing the muddy stream before him. With a burst of speed, he launched himself into the air, muscles straining as he aimed to clear the obstacle. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though he might achieve the feat — the arc of his trajectory promising success.
As Mardigan runs and propels himself into the air, Eldon observes the creatures about the stream. Bugs fly and float over its top. Small fish and other things seem to swim beneath the surface. A mouse hops from rock to rock to stick to rock. As it nears the other end, it lands on a shallow bit of water. There is a sudden bubble and the mouse is gone! Eldon also sees squirrels in the woods to their east climbing trees on one side, jumping across boughs to scamper down trunks on the other side.
Meanwhile, Mardigan's arc nears its mark. Yet, the cruel embrace of gravity had its say. Mardigan, a man defined by bold actions, found himself suspended in mid-air only to succumb to the inevitable pull of the earth. The muddy stream, unforgiving and treacherous, greeted him with an icy embrace as he crashed into the water on the far side.
The impact sent ripples through the murky liquid, and Mardigan, now immersed up to his waist in the mire, struggled against the insistent pull of the mud. A valiant leap turned into a less-than-graceful plunge, leaving him momentarily ensnared in the clutches of the iron grip beneath the surface. Mud clung to his form like a second skin, a testament to the unpredictable nature of the terrain. ((Athletics check to free himself from the grip of the mud)).
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Well that didn't seem to go as planned. He states, and mumbles a few other colorful metaphors under his breath. 24 Athletics, trying to free himself from the foul muck.
fizzkilk spends the whole time standing aside, watching how others attempt to cross for two purposes, he wants to get a feel for how they solve problems, and he doesnt want to end up in the mud if he can help it, so hes hoping someone comes up with a better idea than jumping
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This Mug immediately shared with me a transcendental tale of an Infinite Mug that anchors the Universe and keeps it from folding in on itself. I filed this report under "illogical nonsense" and asked why its sign is in Times New Roman font, when it is basic knowledge that Arial Black is a far superior font. I wondered: How did this mug even get past the assembly line with its theistic beliefs and poor font choices?
quote from Romantically Apocalyptic byVitaly S Alexius
Well that didn't seem to go as planned. He states, and mumbles a few other colorful metaphors under his breath. 25 Athletics, trying to free himself from the foul muck.
Despite the clinging muck and weighty pull, Mardigan summoned strength from deep within. His sinewy muscles coiled, and with a surge of power, he executed a maneuver that blurred the line between struggle and triumph.
In a fluid display of sheer physical prowess, Mardigan hauled himself from the mud with a near-single motion. The once ensnared warrior emerged from the mire like a rising titan, mud cascading from his form in a testament to both strength and skill, a display that left no doubt about his resilience and determination. Upon reaching the far shore of the stream, Mardigan stood, a muddy but indomitable figure.
Narrakas looked on enviously at Mardigan, prior to then turning his gaze onto the mud. "Hmm~.... Needed a bath anyways,"He admits while rubbing his chin, before turning to those still on his side with a grin. "See you on the other side." With that, the goblin takes only a brief moment to make sure everything on his person was secured before marching straight for the streaming, fully intent on power his way across if it hadn't been deep enough to force him to swim, but either way take his time with crossing to really enjoy exquisite treat!
(@CF: Considering what happened with Mardi, I presume Narrakas method will require some athletics checks. If so, I'll leave that in spoiler.)
Narrakas steps into the water. The mud quickly gives and tugs at his feet, however, due to his lighter weight and his determination, he is able to slowly wade across the stream. He steps out eventually on the other side, only to find that his time in the water gained him 17 leeches, attached to his legs.
Once made aware of them one way or another, rather than panic, Narrakas actually rubs his hands together gleefully while smiling at some of the leeches. "Roadside snacks! Perf-aww, wait, shoot!" He facepalms. "I forgot to get a goodie jar! And I'm out of alcohol too! This is just the worse!" Complained the goblin, before sitting down and spending the next however many minutes it took for the others to decide how they were going to cross to start carefully removing the leeches with his nails, assuming he had nothing flat in his kit.
No thought is given to warn anyone else about them during this process, though he makes no attempt to hide the infestation. But it is with much reluctance that he throws all he finds 'except the last two or three to eat the tails before throwing them back.
(@CF: Does he require a check to start removing them? Like an administer aid? Or is it fine to say -- assuming everyone is fine with it -- to stop and spend the next 10 minutes as an exploration activity removing the leeches without said check?)
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When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
"so, eldon. you got any fancy magic ways across dat river? or if not, seein as neither of us seem to have taken a shine ta that river, i reckon we could make a shoddy bridge outta smaller one er two of them trees" he suggests, waving away some of the bugs futilely, still waiting for a solution to be decided on, actually wading through that mud will be a last resort
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
This Mug immediately shared with me a transcendental tale of an Infinite Mug that anchors the Universe and keeps it from folding in on itself. I filed this report under "illogical nonsense" and asked why its sign is in Times New Roman font, when it is basic knowledge that Arial Black is a far superior font. I wondered: How did this mug even get past the assembly line with its theistic beliefs and poor font choices?
quote from Romantically Apocalyptic byVitaly S Alexius
“sadly, no magic i have yet to get across. I have no wish to face the leeches either. Yes, let’s attempt to cross on logs.”. he says. He produces a small ball of flame in one hand and offers to help burn through the base of a tree.
fizzkilk looks at the fire, and shakes his head "more likely to just scorch it, or go too far and weaken the whole thing, ill use me axe" he figures, and sets to cutting down several appropriately sized trees "if you could find a good solid place ta set em that would be appreciated"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
This Mug immediately shared with me a transcendental tale of an Infinite Mug that anchors the Universe and keeps it from folding in on itself. I filed this report under "illogical nonsense" and asked why its sign is in Times New Roman font, when it is basic knowledge that Arial Black is a far superior font. I wondered: How did this mug even get past the assembly line with its theistic beliefs and poor font choices?
quote from Romantically Apocalyptic byVitaly S Alexius
Eldon eagerly collects several branches and logs of various sizes. He pulls them near the stream, spending 10 minutes attempting to interlock them in complex and convoluted ways. At the end, the structure falls apart under it's own lack of cohesion and flows down the stream.
Under Fizz's efforts, the logs were swiftly cut with precision, the rhythmic sound echoing through the air. Once the raw materials were prepared, Eldon, ever resourceful, set to work with the tools at his disposal. His deft hands worked with both precision and creativity, transforming the rough-hewn logs into a functional but decidedly temporary bridge.
After half an hour of concentrated effort, Eldon stepped back, wiping sweat from his brow. The makeshift bridge spanned the gap, ready to facilitate their crossing. However, a discerning eye could recognize the impermanence of their creation. The next strong rainfall, like an inevitable force of nature, threatened to wash away the hasty solution.
Nevertheless, Fizz and Eldon cross the bridge, joining their companions on the other side.
The party continues on its way.
The terrain gradually changes, the subtle shift in scenery indicating their approach to the coastal village. An hour or so passes, and the landscape gives way to the sight of the sea. Following the signposted fork, they proceed westward, and the unmistakable silhouette of Saltmarsh begins to emerge on the horizon.
However, the initial view is obscured by the remnants of a once-sturdy wall. Time and the relentless forces of nature have taken their toll on the fortification. The wall, a weathered testament to centuries gone by, stands with an air of aged resilience. Crumbling stones bear the scars of countless storms, worn by the ceaseless battering of rain and wind from the nearby Sea of Swords.
Through the small stretch of wall and a lone town gate, guarded by a meager contingent of two or three sentinels, the party catches glimpses of Saltmarsh. The village reveals itself in fragments, its buildings and docks peeking through the gaps in the dilapidated defenses. The sea breeze carries with it the salty tang of the ocean, mingled with the earthy scent of the land. As they draw nearer, the ambiance of Saltmarsh, with its tales of the sea and weather-beaten resilience, begins to envelop the travelers in a coastal embrace.
From the moment the oceanic atmosphere began assaulting his senses, Narrakas wore a near permanent scowl on his face when not otherwise rubbing his arms or brushing at his nose as if trying to dislodge something to little avail. "Never getting used to this."He complained, and yet continue to march on with the group. "Uugh... here we go again too. 'less her ladyship sent word ahead for the guards to be on the lookout for us."The goblin further adds, gesturing towards the guards manning the gates. "Elton. Mardi. You might want to make with the silver tongues soon just in case. Could be folk here are on hard enough time not to give too shits about a gob and tusk wandering about so long as they're being accompanied, but I rather not have to sneak in some ways just to get a hold of her ladyship."
Good day gentlemen. We are adventures who seek an audience with Lady Othmor. If you be so kind as to direct us to the proper venue. She is expecting us.
Mardigan glances back over his shoulder to his comrades with a wink, and slight grin. Extremely proud of his attempt at rich people speak.
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Mardigan takes a step or two back then takes a running leap. Athetics 14
Eldon still seems lost in thought, and is actually relieved to not go into the village, and not offended at all by the comments. At the stream, he looks for a way across- trying to see how animals may be crossing.
27 survival.
Narrakas muses about the mudflats. He finds the scent, while pungent, not repulsive to his goblin sensibilities. It might even feel nice on the skin.
Mad Mardigan, fueled by a surge of determination, took a few steps back, eyeing the muddy stream before him. With a burst of speed, he launched himself into the air, muscles straining as he aimed to clear the obstacle. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though he might achieve the feat — the arc of his trajectory promising success.
As Mardigan runs and propels himself into the air, Eldon observes the creatures about the stream. Bugs fly and float over its top. Small fish and other things seem to swim beneath the surface. A mouse hops from rock to rock to stick to rock. As it nears the other end, it lands on a shallow bit of water. There is a sudden bubble and the mouse is gone! Eldon also sees squirrels in the woods to their east climbing trees on one side, jumping across boughs to scamper down trunks on the other side.
Meanwhile, Mardigan's arc nears its mark. Yet, the cruel embrace of gravity had its say. Mardigan, a man defined by bold actions, found himself suspended in mid-air only to succumb to the inevitable pull of the earth. The muddy stream, unforgiving and treacherous, greeted him with an icy embrace as he crashed into the water on the far side.
The impact sent ripples through the murky liquid, and Mardigan, now immersed up to his waist in the mire, struggled against the insistent pull of the mud. A valiant leap turned into a less-than-graceful plunge, leaving him momentarily ensnared in the clutches of the iron grip beneath the surface. Mud clung to his form like a second skin, a testament to the unpredictable nature of the terrain. ((Athletics check to free himself from the grip of the mud)).
Eryndor - Red Dead Annihilation | GM - Volo's Trade Franchise - PF2e Adventures set in the Forgotten Realms
Well that didn't seem to go as planned. He states, and mumbles a few other colorful metaphors under his breath. 24 Athletics, trying to free himself from the foul muck.
fizzkilk spends the whole time standing aside, watching how others attempt to cross for two purposes, he wants to get a feel for how they solve problems, and he doesnt want to end up in the mud if he can help it, so hes hoping someone comes up with a better idea than jumping
This Mug immediately shared with me a transcendental tale of an Infinite Mug that anchors the Universe and keeps it from folding in on itself. I filed this report under "illogical nonsense" and asked why its sign is in Times New Roman font, when it is basic knowledge that Arial Black is a far superior font. I wondered: How did this mug even get past the assembly line with its theistic beliefs and poor font choices?
quote from Romantically Apocalyptic by Vitaly S Alexius
Despite the clinging muck and weighty pull, Mardigan summoned strength from deep within. His sinewy muscles coiled, and with a surge of power, he executed a maneuver that blurred the line between struggle and triumph.
In a fluid display of sheer physical prowess, Mardigan hauled himself from the mud with a near-single motion. The once ensnared warrior emerged from the mire like a rising titan, mud cascading from his form in a testament to both strength and skill, a display that left no doubt about his resilience and determination. Upon reaching the far shore of the stream, Mardigan stood, a muddy but indomitable figure.
Eryndor - Red Dead Annihilation | GM - Volo's Trade Franchise - PF2e Adventures set in the Forgotten Realms
Narrakas looked on enviously at Mardigan, prior to then turning his gaze onto the mud. "Hmm~.... Needed a bath anyways," He admits while rubbing his chin, before turning to those still on his side with a grin. "See you on the other side." With that, the goblin takes only a brief moment to make sure everything on his person was secured before marching straight for the streaming, fully intent on power his way across if it hadn't been deep enough to force him to swim, but either way take his time with crossing to really enjoy exquisite treat!
(@CF: Considering what happened with Mardi, I presume Narrakas method will require some athletics checks. If so, I'll leave that in spoiler.)
#1 Athletics: 18.
#2 Athletics: 23. (if 2nd one is needed)
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
Narrakas steps into the water. The mud quickly gives and tugs at his feet, however, due to his lighter weight and his determination, he is able to slowly wade across the stream. He steps out eventually on the other side, only to find that his time in the water gained him 17 leeches, attached to his legs.
Eryndor - Red Dead Annihilation | GM - Volo's Trade Franchise - PF2e Adventures set in the Forgotten Realms
Once made aware of them one way or another, rather than panic, Narrakas actually rubs his hands together gleefully while smiling at some of the leeches. "Roadside snacks! Perf-aww, wait, shoot!" He facepalms. "I forgot to get a goodie jar! And I'm out of alcohol too! This is just the worse!" Complained the goblin, before sitting down and spending the next however many minutes it took for the others to decide how they were going to cross to start carefully removing the leeches with his nails, assuming he had nothing flat in his kit.
No thought is given to warn anyone else about them during this process, though he makes no attempt to hide the infestation. But it is with much reluctance that he throws all he finds 'except the last two or three to eat the tails before throwing them back.
(@CF: Does he require a check to start removing them? Like an administer aid? Or is it fine to say -- assuming everyone is fine with it -- to stop and spend the next 10 minutes as an exploration activity removing the leeches without said check?)
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
((It is fine to take time to remove them. Roadsnacks! Lol!))
Eryndor - Red Dead Annihilation | GM - Volo's Trade Franchise - PF2e Adventures set in the Forgotten Realms
"so, eldon. you got any fancy magic ways across dat river? or if not, seein as neither of us seem to have taken a shine ta that river, i reckon we could make a shoddy bridge outta smaller one er two of them trees" he suggests, waving away some of the bugs futilely, still waiting for a solution to be decided on, actually wading through that mud will be a last resortThis Mug immediately shared with me a transcendental tale of an Infinite Mug that anchors the Universe and keeps it from folding in on itself. I filed this report under "illogical nonsense" and asked why its sign is in Times New Roman font, when it is basic knowledge that Arial Black is a far superior font. I wondered: How did this mug even get past the assembly line with its theistic beliefs and poor font choices?
quote from Romantically Apocalyptic by Vitaly S Alexius
“sadly, no magic i have yet to get across. I have no wish to face the leeches either. Yes, let’s attempt to cross on logs.”. he says. He produces a small ball of flame in one hand and offers to help burn through the base of a tree.
fizzkilk looks at the fire, and shakes his head "more likely to just scorch it, or go too far and weaken the whole thing, ill use me axe" he figures, and sets to cutting down several appropriately sized trees "if you could find a good solid place ta set em that would be appreciated"
This Mug immediately shared with me a transcendental tale of an Infinite Mug that anchors the Universe and keeps it from folding in on itself. I filed this report under "illogical nonsense" and asked why its sign is in Times New Roman font, when it is basic knowledge that Arial Black is a far superior font. I wondered: How did this mug even get past the assembly line with its theistic beliefs and poor font choices?
quote from Romantically Apocalyptic by Vitaly S Alexius
“i can help with crafting a simple bridge, ive read enough about it.”. 22 crafting
(or not lol)
Eldon eagerly collects several branches and logs of various sizes. He pulls them near the stream, spending 10 minutes attempting to interlock them in complex and convoluted ways. At the end, the structure falls apart under it's own lack of cohesion and flows down the stream.
Eryndor - Red Dead Annihilation | GM - Volo's Trade Franchise - PF2e Adventures set in the Forgotten Realms
“well, maybe that was too complicated. let me try again!”
24
Half an hour later ...
Under Fizz's efforts, the logs were swiftly cut with precision, the rhythmic sound echoing through the air. Once the raw materials were prepared, Eldon, ever resourceful, set to work with the tools at his disposal. His deft hands worked with both precision and creativity, transforming the rough-hewn logs into a functional but decidedly temporary bridge.
After half an hour of concentrated effort, Eldon stepped back, wiping sweat from his brow. The makeshift bridge spanned the gap, ready to facilitate their crossing. However, a discerning eye could recognize the impermanence of their creation. The next strong rainfall, like an inevitable force of nature, threatened to wash away the hasty solution.
Nevertheless, Fizz and Eldon cross the bridge, joining their companions on the other side.
The party continues on its way.
The terrain gradually changes, the subtle shift in scenery indicating their approach to the coastal village. An hour or so passes, and the landscape gives way to the sight of the sea. Following the signposted fork, they proceed westward, and the unmistakable silhouette of Saltmarsh begins to emerge on the horizon.
However, the initial view is obscured by the remnants of a once-sturdy wall. Time and the relentless forces of nature have taken their toll on the fortification. The wall, a weathered testament to centuries gone by, stands with an air of aged resilience. Crumbling stones bear the scars of countless storms, worn by the ceaseless battering of rain and wind from the nearby Sea of Swords.
Through the small stretch of wall and a lone town gate, guarded by a meager contingent of two or three sentinels, the party catches glimpses of Saltmarsh. The village reveals itself in fragments, its buildings and docks peeking through the gaps in the dilapidated defenses. The sea breeze carries with it the salty tang of the ocean, mingled with the earthy scent of the land. As they draw nearer, the ambiance of Saltmarsh, with its tales of the sea and weather-beaten resilience, begins to envelop the travelers in a coastal embrace.
Eryndor - Red Dead Annihilation | GM - Volo's Trade Franchise - PF2e Adventures set in the Forgotten Realms
From the moment the oceanic atmosphere began assaulting his senses, Narrakas wore a near permanent scowl on his face when not otherwise rubbing his arms or brushing at his nose as if trying to dislodge something to little avail. "Never getting used to this." He complained, and yet continue to march on with the group. "Uugh... here we go again too. 'less her ladyship sent word ahead for the guards to be on the lookout for us." The goblin further adds, gesturing towards the guards manning the gates. "Elton. Mardi. You might want to make with the silver tongues soon just in case. Could be folk here are on hard enough time not to give too shits about a gob and tusk wandering about so long as they're being accompanied, but I rather not have to sneak in some ways just to get a hold of her ladyship."
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
Good day gentlemen. We are adventures who seek an audience with Lady Othmor. If you be so kind as to direct us to the proper venue. She is expecting us.
Mardigan glances back over his shoulder to his comrades with a wink, and slight grin. Extremely proud of his attempt at rich people speak.