Kotog will look to his allies, “Well, this was a worthwhile trip. Why send us here if they know nothing? And I wouldn’t object to another sword arm, but that doesn’t help without a lead. Tanwar?”
'Blasphemy.' Tanwar grunted, his eyes nearly ablaze with seething disgust at the warchief's words. 'If the gods abandoned you, it's because you have proven to be unworthy of their blessings. We'll take your runt and leave.'
((So I didn’t realize this earlier, but Kotog actually knows the language of goblins, so he understood the chief’s commands and what the orcs said to the worgs. It wasn’t much more than commands so there’s no point in translating anything now.))
The chief responds with only a grunt. As you all walk towards the entrance, with Tanwar picking up his weapon, one of the worg riders (minus his partner) calls to his chief. “I will go with them.” He turns to you all. “I am Kurg. I will help you save the Orclands.” Kurg has just joined your party.
Norak stops and approaches the orc that has volunteered himself to their cause. The hunched orc walks lazily around the man, his gaze moving about as if Kurg were a show pony. Without full regard to personal space he squeezes the orcs bicep and prods his thigh.
Norak stops and approaches the orc that has volunteered himself to their cause. The hunched orc walks lazily around the man, his gaze moving about as if Kurg were a show pony. Without full regard to personal space he squeezes the orcs bicep and prods his thigh.
Norak stops and approaches the orc that has volunteered himself to their cause. The hunched orc walks lazily around the man, his gaze moving about as if Kurg were a show pony. Without full regard to personal space he squeezes the orcs bicep and prods his thigh.
"Another sword arm is well and good. But where are we supposed to go next? I feel like these visions are just running us across the desert for nothing."
Tarth opens the dark tome that is always in his possession and starts leafing through it as if he expects to find the answers to his questions within its pages; as unlikely as that may be.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Founding Member of the High Roller Society.(Currently trying to roll max on 4d6)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
4
Tarth
As you flip through the pages of your tome, you see an image beginning to form, not just on one page but all of them at the same time. In just a few moments, the image is completed. It looks so perfect and detailed you would think the artist was inspired by the gods. When you really look at the big picture, when you realize what the painting is depicting, you see a large town in the night, completely lit up with burning roofs. The town is surrounded by sand and at its center, the fire is wrapped around five large purple figures.
When you look up from the tome, you see, just for a split second, just an instant, the burning town ahead of you. It immediately disappears, sinking into the horizon.
Tarth snaps his book shut and looks over his shoulder to ensure no one else was looking. Had he really seen that? Was his friend interested in helping them?
Lifting his arm to point in the direction of the disappearing mirage, Tarth speaks out to the group. "That way I think. There is a town in the desert in that direction. Call it a feeling. Something tells me that is where we should be headed next."He turns to the newest member of their little caravan, "Kurg, do you know of any settlements into the desert in that direction? How far is the closest one?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Founding Member of the High Roller Society.(Currently trying to roll max on 4d6)
'Humans.' Tanwar spat on the ground. 'Soft pinkskins are no match for Orc might. We will take what we need from them.'
He gave an approving nod to Norak. The spirit caller seemed to be of the same mind. Tanwar dug his heels into his Worg's flank and rode off towards the west.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
The party, with their newest addition, departs to the human town after taking a moment to decide their next course of action. About 30 minutes into their trek, everyone is suddenly filled with a sense of dread. Kotog’s mule starts thrashing and kicking around as if it’s panicking. You all begin to feel the sands shifting underneath your feet as the ground rumbles. Then it stops. After a moment of anticipation, a small scorpion burrows out of the sand in the middle of the party. For a split second, a faint purple light shimmers on its body. Then, it begins screeching, as if in pain. It grows. And it grows. And it grows. With each spurt, the high-pitched screeches become deeper until it’s nothing more than a vicious roar. It spins around, twirling its claws around and preparing the stinger for stabbing. It roars again.
Kurg is slightly taken aback by the scorpion that seemingly came out nowhere, but recovers immediately and jumps into battle. He draws his longswords and attacks a total of three times, using his bonus action.
Attack 1: 13 Damage: 5 Attack 2: 25 Damage: 6
BA: 16 Damage: 8
Kurg is able to land his first attack, dealing 10 damage, but the scorpion thrashes around and stomps quickly, so he is unable to follow up.
Kotog will look to his allies, “Well, this was a worthwhile trip. Why send us here if they know nothing? And I wouldn’t object to another sword arm, but that doesn’t help without a lead. Tanwar?”
'Blasphemy.' Tanwar grunted, his eyes nearly ablaze with seething disgust at the warchief's words. 'If the gods abandoned you, it's because you have proven to be unworthy of their blessings. We'll take your runt and leave.'
William Brackwater: Human Fighter - The Windward Isles
Tyrgram, the Butterfly Knight: Dwarf Warlock - Secret of Greenwold
Iòlinder Corrach: Half Elf War Cleric - Allansia Adventure
Valerius Sergius Publius: Dhampir Paladin - Vae Victus
((So I didn’t realize this earlier, but Kotog actually knows the language of goblins, so he understood the chief’s commands and what the orcs said to the worgs. It wasn’t much more than commands so there’s no point in translating anything now.))
The chief responds with only a grunt. As you all walk towards the entrance, with Tanwar picking up his weapon, one of the worg riders (minus his partner) calls to his chief. “I will go with them.” He turns to you all. “I am Kurg. I will help you save the Orclands.” Kurg has just joined your party.
Norak stops and approaches the orc that has volunteered himself to their cause. The hunched orc walks lazily around the man, his gaze moving about as if Kurg were a show pony. Without full regard to personal space he squeezes the orcs bicep and prods his thigh.
"A decent specimen. You will join us."
Norak stops and approaches the orc that has volunteered himself to their cause. The hunched orc walks lazily around the man, his gaze moving about as if Kurg were a show pony. Without full regard to personal space he squeezes the orcs bicep and prods his thigh.
"A decent specimen. You will join us."
Norak stops and approaches the orc that has volunteered himself to their cause. The hunched orc walks lazily around the man, his gaze moving about as if Kurg were a show pony. Without full regard to personal space he squeezes the orcs bicep and prods his thigh.
"A decent specimen. You will join us."
"Another sword arm is well and good. But where are we supposed to go next? I feel like these visions are just running us across the desert for nothing."
Tarth opens the dark tome that is always in his possession and starts leafing through it as if he expects to find the answers to his questions within its pages; as unlikely as that may be.
Founding Member of the High Roller Society. (Currently trying to roll max on 4d6)
Radar joins the rest of his group, having calmed down from the illusion.
"It does seem like the gods are running us around. But there must be a reason for it. Perhaps we should pray on it."
(What time of day is it? If it's late, perhaps we spend the night and attempt to reach out to the gods or other visions for guidance?)
((It’s a little late in the afternoon. The sun’s slowly setting but not at dusk level yet. It would be like 5:30pm if they could measure time))
4
Tarth
As you flip through the pages of your tome, you see an image beginning to form, not just on one page but all of them at the same time. In just a few moments, the image is completed. It looks so perfect and detailed you would think the artist was inspired by the gods. When you really look at the big picture, when you realize what the painting is depicting, you see a large town in the night, completely lit up with burning roofs. The town is surrounded by sand and at its center, the fire is wrapped around five large purple figures.
When you look up from the tome, you see, just for a split second, just an instant, the burning town ahead of you. It immediately disappears, sinking into the horizon.
Tarth snaps his book shut and looks over his shoulder to ensure no one else was looking. Had he really seen that? Was his friend interested in helping them?
Lifting his arm to point in the direction of the disappearing mirage, Tarth speaks out to the group. "That way I think. There is a town in the desert in that direction. Call it a feeling. Something tells me that is where we should be headed next." He turns to the newest member of their little caravan, "Kurg, do you know of any settlements into the desert in that direction? How far is the closest one?"
Founding Member of the High Roller Society. (Currently trying to roll max on 4d6)
Kurg scratches his head for a moment, then responds. “Uhh... a human town west of here, maybe an hour away. Did you see something?”
"I'm not sure. Maybe. I think it might be our next step, or another fool's errand. Let's head that way and see."
Founding Member of the High Roller Society. (Currently trying to roll max on 4d6)
Kotog will nod and gather up his mule's reigns, "Sounds like a plan. Let's go."
((Anyone else want an input?))
Norak gestures to the west, "Let us travel warily. Human lands are rife with the plentiful yet weak."
'Humans.' Tanwar spat on the ground. 'Soft pinkskins are no match for Orc might. We will take what we need from them.'
He gave an approving nod to Norak. The spirit caller seemed to be of the same mind. Tanwar dug his heels into his Worg's flank and rode off towards the west.
William Brackwater: Human Fighter - The Windward Isles
Tyrgram, the Butterfly Knight: Dwarf Warlock - Secret of Greenwold
Iòlinder Corrach: Half Elf War Cleric - Allansia Adventure
Valerius Sergius Publius: Dhampir Paladin - Vae Victus
(Are we keeping the worgs? I thought we had to give them back in the village and didn’t get them again.)
((My bad for not clarifying, you do not have the worgs anymore.))
The party, with their newest addition, departs to the human town after taking a moment to decide their next course of action. About 30 minutes into their trek, everyone is suddenly filled with a sense of dread. Kotog’s mule starts thrashing and kicking around as if it’s panicking. You all begin to feel the sands shifting underneath your feet as the ground rumbles. Then it stops. After a moment of anticipation, a small scorpion burrows out of the sand in the middle of the party. For a split second, a faint purple light shimmers on its body. Then, it begins screeching, as if in pain. It grows. And it grows. And it grows. With each spurt, the high-pitched screeches become deeper until it’s nothing more than a vicious roar. It spins around, twirling its claws around and preparing the stinger for stabbing. It roars again.
Initiative Rolls
Kotog - 18
Kurg - 24
Norak - 7
Radar - 9
Tanwar - 11
Tarth - 9
Scorpion - 11
Initiative Order
1. Kurg
2. Kotog
3. Scorpion
4. Radar
5. Norak
6. Tarth
7. Tanwar
Kurg is slightly taken aback by the scorpion that seemingly came out nowhere, but recovers immediately and jumps into battle. He draws his longswords and attacks a total of three times, using his bonus action.
Attack 1: 13 Damage: 5
Attack 2: 25 Damage: 6
BA: 16 Damage: 8
Kurg is able to land his first attack, dealing 10 damage, but the scorpion thrashes around and stomps quickly, so he is unable to follow up.
It is Kotog’s turn.