Having met each other at tavern on your route, you discovered that you were all travelling in the same direction along the King's Road. You arrive in Harkenwold in the middle of the day. It’s a broad, lightly settled valley between two arms of the Harken Forest. You haven’t traveled more than a mile or two into the valley before trouble appears. Rounding a bend in the road, you spy a pillar of smoke climbing into the clear blue sky. The source, hidden by rolling hills, is roughly a mile away along a dirt track that intersects the road. At best, the smoke is curious; at worst, someone could be in trouble.
(Introduce your character, and then decide what you're going to do!)
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Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1) DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum
The smooth melody of the viol gives off a high pitched screech as Davner stops playing rather abruptly at the sight of the smoke. The Combes over pompadour of dirty blond hair barely reaches the heights of the hips of his fellow companions. A clean shaven baby face looks around. His white shirt and green vest is partially covered up by a smith’s apron tied at the waist and leather strap sling around his left shoulder. A makeshift bagpipe hangs, made from bellows and copper tubing. It’s hard to tell if he’s wearing really big shorts or has grown out of his pants as his now Capri style clothing stops way short of his hairy halfling feet.
”Given the recent history, it looks like trouble up ahead, continue on the path and risk being seen or should we try and get a look first by going through the woods?”
Ursula grimaces as the viol cuts out. She had just been about to remember the name of that long dead temple when her fellow halfling travel companion had screeched her back into the present. Her attention is caught by the smoke, cutting her cry of indignation short as she turns to judge the threat. She stands to get a better look, unfurling her slingshot and loading a slingstone in a practiced motion. Squinting into the distance at the pillar of smoke, the furrow-lines on her brow give her two-toned face an even more complicated texture as she examines the danger and the nearby geography.
Her comfortable travelling clothes flicker and blur as Dapple unconsciously weaves her magic. For a moment she wears chainmail, then tight-fitting black leathers, the illusionary clothing revealing her subconscious impulses - fight, sneak, survive, help - before she gets a handle on her anxiety. The clothing settles for a dark green and brown leather armor with a hood, the better to sneak in the forested hills.
Turning to Davner, Ursula nods, concurring with his assessment. Aye, that's trouble alright. Let's leave the confrontin' to the chunkier of our companions while'n me and you sneak quiet like through the brush. I'm sure we can cause all sorts of distractions between the two of ours' magic.
She then eyes up the doughty dwarf, Tafold, and the human with the nifty crossbow, Bram. What do you fighter-types reckon?
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Bram Moltenheim
"Well... looks like I'm going to be able to test out that restoration job the Deephollow Smithy did on my crossbow sooner than I thought," Bram says to Davner as he adjusts the strap of his shield. He gives a nod to Ursula. "I'd join you, but this armor of mine would probably give the game away," he adds sheepishly, running a hand along the back of his neck.
Bram looks both eager and worried as he observes the smoke curling in the distance. As evidenced by his freshly repaired crossbow, he's a young fellow who hasn't seen much real battle as of yet. His muscular build tells you, however, that's been training eagerly for it. Flipping his unruly red hair away from his face, he grins at the others, showing what he really is at heart - a simple soul, on a simple mission, trying to do his best to get things right, even if he doesn't quite always understand what's going on around him. And though he might not be the brightest, but that guillible face of his - and the heavy armor and shield he wears beneath it - screams reliability.
"Lead the way, and I won't be too far behind!"
Bram prepares his crossbow and does what he thinks is his level best to try and approach the danger quietly despite his clanking armor, though he does have enough presence of mind to stay well behind his halfling companions.
Tafod, who appears to be an axe rack with a few javelins attached, shakes his grizzled head. "I be at th' sharp end when e'er the need be. Though t'would be good t' now what be 'appening up thar," he points at the smoke column up ahead.
Less than five foot tall, Tafod is like a mobile block of granite, though he wears no armour, but for a shield on his back, he presents an aura of solidity that obviates the need for a coat of metal. He wears a thick grey wolf fur vest, that leaves his arms bare, over a thick woven dark grey tunic and he shod in heavy leather boots.
He hefts his great axe and the silver geometric inlaid in the black iron blade glitters briefly, "I be 'ere as I was huntin' bandits, then come t' see that there be somethin' behind their mayhem. So if'n ye sneaky sorts," he grins to lessen any sting his words might hold, "'ould let us muscle bound metal haulers know what we face, be good fer us 'n bad fer the vermin we seem t' be huntin'"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Panic is a mechanism that strengthens the gene pool.
Quyst stops as soon as the bard ceases to play. Her blue lips are tense while she looks, worried, to the rising smoke. She's got a pale red skin, and short, bulky horns, twisting in a tight spiral that goes a whole round and point up. She tosses her long braid of auburn hair over her shoulder and checks if her black leather armor is well fastened in place.
Yeah, I like the sneaky-peak strategy, she says in a sweet but firm voice. I can go with the halflings, so if anything goes wrong we can buy us some time before you big guys can catch up.
Bram stares in amazement at Quyst. "That's incredible!" he says as he watches her slink after the halflings. "I can't even tell she's being sneaky! I wonder if that spell only works on the people she wants to fool?"
“Sounds like a plan to me folks, see you on the other side.” Davner put his viol down as he heads into the woods, now holding his dagger in his hands.
Taking a quick look at his grouping, “You know most fellas would dream to be in my position, taking a stroll through the wooden glen with a pair of wonderful ladies”. He says trying to be harmlessly charming. “I mean no disrespect, more commenting on the situation we’ve found ourselves in.” As he reaches out towards both Dapple and Quyst to inspire them.
"We'll meet up at that tree there," Tafod points to a tall tree just below the top of a hill that has a good overlook of what is ahead. "Kissin' 'n makin' whopee be all foin an good," he grins mightily, "but don't lose yer 'ead o'er it."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Panic is a mechanism that strengthens the gene pool.
The group splits in two, with its sneakier members going in front along the treeline. You see human brigands and a pair of wolves surrounding a farmhouse. The humans all wear black cloaks with a gray ring device. They’re preparing pitch-soaked torches, laughing and taunting whoever’s inside. They’ve already burned a small outbuilding—the source of the smoke column. Unfortunately, it's hard to move through the dense brush and, instead of staying hidden, Quyst, Bram and Davner make a significant amount of noise as they stay move.
The wolves growl a warning, and the brigands face you. One of them scowls and waves his arm. “What do we have here? Some little thieves and a devil-kin? Move on, you!” he snarls. “This is Iron Circle business!” From inside the farmhouse, you hear a woman’s voice shout angrily. “Business? It looks like robbery and murder to me!”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1) DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum
„Are you bandits?“ Bram calls out suspiciously. He steps out in front of the others, holding his shield up. „You‘re bandits, aren‘t you!“ he continues, raising his crossbow. „Leave that farmhouse alone or prepare to be force-fed justice, evildoers!“
Hmm. I think my da would be quite proud of that speech, he thinks to himself in satisfaction as he takes aim.
”Well... that didn’t go as planned.” Davner mutters to his friends. Pricking his finger with his dagger he prepares himself to cast bane if he sees the two wolves or the man make an agressive move towards the group.
Dapple swears under breath when she spies the bandits and then a little louder when Bram steps forward to challenge them. ******* men.
Still, grateful to have someone - a bigger target - draw the attention of the brigands, the halfling begins weaving her hands and fingers in a complicated dance, seeming to collect the shadows around the party into a nebulous mass in and around her hands. She spreads her hands, streeettcchiingg the shadows out into what looks like a web before locking eyes with the other halfling so that they can time their spells appropriately.
[Mechanics - Holding a sleep spell until the wolves or brigand come into range.]
The lead bandit turns to Bram. "What did you just say to us, you're going to pay for that!" He draws his scimitar, and the others follow suit. They walk menacingly towards Bram, when suddenly multiple spells fire of at them.
Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1) DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum
Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1) DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Ursula gives a sideways grin as she casts her shadow net towards the onrushing wolves. Tugging it downwards with a flick of her consciousness, the dark energies ensnare the beasts, sending them skidding and tumbling, unconscious into the dirt.
Turning to the bandits charging towards the party, Dapple clenches her first, drawing a veil of chill shadow magic around the leader, casting Frostbite for 3 frost damage. (DC 14 CON save or take damage and DISADV on next weapon attack)
Tafod charges down the hill and slams his axe into the leader's chest. The wound immediately freezes over, and the bandit's heart stops beating.
(Quyst is up)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1) DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum
"Shit" Quyst holds the crystal hanging on her necklace with her lefthand, and make some signs with the right one. Her golden eyes spark in purple when a purple dart appears out of thin air, targeting the second bandit rushing them.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Quyst's magic bolt blasts the man in the centre of his chest, blowing him backwards. He has difficulty getting back up. Snarling with rage, he kicks one of the sleeping wolves. "Up, you dog!" The other bandit pulls the second wolf up by its mane and throws it at Tafod. "Kill them!"
Growling and snapping, the wolves converge on Tafod.
1st Wolf Bite Attack: 23 Damage: 8 1st Wolf Bite Attack: 20 Damage: 7
Neither of them manage to get behind his slashing blade.
Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1) DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum
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Having met each other at tavern on your route, you discovered that you were all travelling in the same direction along the King's Road. You arrive in Harkenwold in the middle of the day. It’s a broad, lightly settled valley between two arms of the Harken Forest. You haven’t traveled more than a mile or two into the valley before trouble appears. Rounding a bend in the road, you spy a pillar of smoke climbing into the clear blue sky. The source, hidden by rolling hills, is roughly a mile away along a dirt track that intersects the road. At best, the smoke is curious; at worst, someone could be in trouble.
(Introduce your character, and then decide what you're going to do!)
Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1)
DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum
The smooth melody of the viol gives off a high pitched screech as Davner stops playing rather abruptly at the sight of the smoke. The Combes over pompadour of dirty blond hair barely reaches the heights of the hips of his fellow companions. A clean shaven baby face looks around. His white shirt and green vest is partially covered up by a smith’s apron tied at the waist and leather strap sling around his left shoulder. A makeshift bagpipe hangs, made from bellows and copper tubing. It’s hard to tell if he’s wearing really big shorts or has grown out of his pants as his now Capri style clothing stops way short of his hairy halfling feet.
”Given the recent history, it looks like trouble up ahead, continue on the path and risk being seen or should we try and get a look first by going through the woods?”
Ursula "Dapple" Umberside
Ursula grimaces as the viol cuts out. She had just been about to remember the name of that long dead temple when her fellow halfling travel companion had screeched her back into the present. Her attention is caught by the smoke, cutting her cry of indignation short as she turns to judge the threat. She stands to get a better look, unfurling her slingshot and loading a slingstone in a practiced motion. Squinting into the distance at the pillar of smoke, the furrow-lines on her brow give her two-toned face an even more complicated texture as she examines the danger and the nearby geography.
Her comfortable travelling clothes flicker and blur as Dapple unconsciously weaves her magic. For a moment she wears chainmail, then tight-fitting black leathers, the illusionary clothing revealing her subconscious impulses - fight, sneak, survive, help - before she gets a handle on her anxiety. The clothing settles for a dark green and brown leather armor with a hood, the better to sneak in the forested hills.
Turning to Davner, Ursula nods, concurring with his assessment. Aye, that's trouble alright. Let's leave the confrontin' to the chunkier of our companions while'n me and you sneak quiet like through the brush. I'm sure we can cause all sorts of distractions between the two of ours' magic.
She then eyes up the doughty dwarf, Tafold, and the human with the nifty crossbow, Bram. What do you fighter-types reckon?
Bram Moltenheim
"Well... looks like I'm going to be able to test out that restoration job the Deephollow Smithy did on my crossbow sooner than I thought," Bram says to Davner as he adjusts the strap of his shield. He gives a nod to Ursula. "I'd join you, but this armor of mine would probably give the game away," he adds sheepishly, running a hand along the back of his neck.
Bram looks both eager and worried as he observes the smoke curling in the distance. As evidenced by his freshly repaired crossbow, he's a young fellow who hasn't seen much real battle as of yet. His muscular build tells you, however, that's been training eagerly for it. Flipping his unruly red hair away from his face, he grins at the others, showing what he really is at heart - a simple soul, on a simple mission, trying to do his best to get things right, even if he doesn't quite always understand what's going on around him. And though he might not be the brightest, but that guillible face of his - and the heavy armor and shield he wears beneath it - screams reliability.
"Lead the way, and I won't be too far behind!"
Bram prepares his crossbow and does what he thinks is his level best to try and approach the danger quietly despite his clanking armor, though he does have enough presence of mind to stay well behind his halfling companions.
Stealth: 9
Tafod, who appears to be an axe rack with a few javelins attached, shakes his grizzled head. "I be at th' sharp end when e'er the need be. Though t'would be good t' now what be 'appening up thar," he points at the smoke column up ahead.
Less than five foot tall, Tafod is like a mobile block of granite, though he wears no armour, but for a shield on his back, he presents an aura of solidity that obviates the need for a coat of metal. He wears a thick grey wolf fur vest, that leaves his arms bare, over a thick woven dark grey tunic and he shod in heavy leather boots.
He hefts his great axe and the silver geometric inlaid in the black iron blade glitters briefly, "I be 'ere as I was huntin' bandits, then come t' see that there be somethin' behind their mayhem. So if'n ye sneaky sorts," he grins to lessen any sting his words might hold, "'ould let us muscle bound metal haulers know what we face, be good fer us 'n bad fer the vermin we seem t' be huntin'"
Panic is a mechanism that strengthens the gene pool.
Quyst stops as soon as the bard ceases to play. Her blue lips are tense while she looks, worried, to the rising smoke. She's got a pale red skin, and short, bulky horns, twisting in a tight spiral that goes a whole round and point up. She tosses her long braid of auburn hair over her shoulder and checks if her black leather armor is well fastened in place.
Yeah, I like the sneaky-peak strategy, she says in a sweet but firm voice. I can go with the halflings, so if anything goes wrong we can buy us some time before you big guys can catch up.
Stealth: 6
Bram stares in amazement at Quyst. "That's incredible!" he says as he watches her slink after the halflings. "I can't even tell she's being sneaky! I wonder if that spell only works on the people she wants to fool?"
Davner - Halfling Bard
“Sounds like a plan to me folks, see you on the other side.” Davner put his viol down as he heads into the woods, now holding his dagger in his hands.
Taking a quick look at his grouping, “You know most fellas would dream to be in my position, taking a stroll through the wooden glen with a pair of wonderful ladies”. He says trying to be harmlessly charming. “I mean no disrespect, more commenting on the situation we’ve found ourselves in.” As he reaches out towards both Dapple and Quyst to inspire them.
stealth: 15
"We'll meet up at that tree there," Tafod points to a tall tree just below the top of a hill that has a good overlook of what is ahead. "Kissin' 'n makin' whopee be all foin an good," he grins mightily, "but don't lose yer 'ead o'er it."
Panic is a mechanism that strengthens the gene pool.
The group splits in two, with its sneakier members going in front along the treeline. You see human brigands and a pair of wolves surrounding a farmhouse. The humans all wear black cloaks with a gray ring device. They’re preparing pitch-soaked torches, laughing and taunting whoever’s inside. They’ve already burned a small outbuilding—the source of the smoke column. Unfortunately, it's hard to move through the dense brush and, instead of staying hidden, Quyst, Bram and Davner make a significant amount of noise as they stay move.
The wolves growl a warning, and the brigands face you. One of them scowls and waves his arm. “What do we have here? Some little thieves and a devil-kin? Move on, you!” he snarls. “This is Iron Circle business!” From inside the farmhouse, you hear a woman’s voice shout angrily. “Business? It looks like robbery and murder to me!”
Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1)
DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum
„Are you bandits?“ Bram calls out suspiciously. He steps out in front of the others, holding his shield up. „You‘re bandits, aren‘t you!“ he continues, raising his crossbow. „Leave that farmhouse alone or prepare to be force-fed justice, evildoers!“
Hmm. I think my da would be quite proud of that speech, he thinks to himself in satisfaction as he takes aim.
Davner - Halfling bard
”Well... that didn’t go as planned.” Davner mutters to his friends. Pricking his finger with his dagger he prepares himself to cast bane if he sees the two wolves or the man make an agressive move towards the group.
Dapple swears under breath when she spies the bandits and then a little louder when Bram steps forward to challenge them. ******* men.
Still, grateful to have someone - a bigger target - draw the attention of the brigands, the halfling begins weaving her hands and fingers in a complicated dance, seeming to collect the shadows around the party into a nebulous mass in and around her hands. She spreads her hands, streeettcchiingg the shadows out into what looks like a web before locking eyes with the other halfling so that they can time their spells appropriately.
[Mechanics - Holding a sleep spell until the wolves or brigand come into range.]
The lead bandit turns to Bram. "What did you just say to us, you're going to pay for that!" He draws his scimitar, and the others follow suit. They walk menacingly towards Bram, when suddenly multiple spells fire of at them.
Bane Saves: Bandit 1: 18 Bandit 2: 14 Bandit 3: 16
Sleep: 19
Both wolves suddenly fall to the ground, unconscious. "What have you done to my wolves?" screams the lead bandit. They rush forward to attack.
Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1)
DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum
Initiative:
Davner Deephollow: 17
Bram Moltenheim: 7
Quyst: 18
Tafod Haearn: 23
Ursula "Dapple" Umberside: 15
Enemies: 8
(Quyst, Tafod, and Dapple are up)
Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1)
DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum
With a roar of firghtful glee, Tafod charges the leader in a RAGE.
Attk. 23 Dmg. 10 - (an additional +2 for rage)
”I be turnin’ ye int’ bloody scraps!”
Panic is a mechanism that strengthens the gene pool.
Ursula gives a sideways grin as she casts her shadow net towards the onrushing wolves. Tugging it downwards with a flick of her consciousness, the dark energies ensnare the beasts, sending them skidding and tumbling, unconscious into the dirt.
Turning to the bandits charging towards the party, Dapple clenches her first, drawing a veil of chill shadow magic around the leader, casting Frostbite for 3 frost damage. (DC 14 CON save or take damage and DISADV on next weapon attack)
Tafod charges down the hill and slams his axe into the leader's chest. The wound immediately freezes over, and the bandit's heart stops beating.
(Quyst is up)
Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1)
DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum
"Shit"
Quyst holds the crystal hanging on her necklace with her lefthand, and make some signs with the right one. Her golden eyes spark in purple when a purple dart appears out of thin air, targeting the second bandit rushing them.
Eldritch blast attack: 16 dmg: 2
Quyst's magic bolt blasts the man in the centre of his chest, blowing him backwards. He has difficulty getting back up. Snarling with rage, he kicks one of the sleeping wolves. "Up, you dog!"
The other bandit pulls the second wolf up by its mane and throws it at Tafod. "Kill them!"
Growling and snapping, the wolves converge on Tafod.
1st Wolf Bite Attack: 23 Damage: 8
1st Wolf Bite Attack: 20 Damage: 7
Neither of them manage to get behind his slashing blade.
(The party is up again.)
Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1)
DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum