Once the rest of the party has gathered, they hear someone come huffing up to where they are. A beaten and battered messenger of Bane comes stumbling in. Under one arm, is a small, green haired halfing, wearing green robes and covered in bottles of liquids of varying colors and sizes. The messenger takes one look at the gathered party and exclaims loudly, "Here. I brought this useless girl with me. I don't know why Bane told me to bring her, but I did. She is your problem now." He unceremoniously drops the halfling and hurries away muttering something about bloody drinking song will never get out of my head. Looking down at the halfing, she is covered in cut, burns, and more injuries. She is also very much unconscious and covered in her own blood.
Carrhae gets through the war cube beaten and bruised, but conscious, thanks to Death Ward. "Kali, Sana, I missed the two of you over the years, but I did not miss almost getting killed." She gives herself 75HP with Lay on Hands and then grabs the unconscious halfling and starts to pray over her. "Sune, I don't know who this girl is, but she did not come here to die so soon. Please let her live." She cradles the girl in her arms and casts Aura of Vitality, healing her 75 over the course of a minute. "Hey there, I'm Carrhae. Welcome back to the land of the living."
"Who the fu--" Kali quickly turns herself around to punch at the ****er who gave her an unwarranted slap at the shoulder, but she reels her fist back when her eyes meet with the giant hulk of a man. "Ain't ****in' with that. Uh... Nice to meet ya too?"
The hybrid is then taken aback at the messenger dropping off an unconscious halfling, Carrhae quick to heal her back up. The brunette rubs her temples to assuage an incoming headache. "So much is happenin' in such a little time frame..."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Aeydof the Dragons || Wood Elf / Way of the Ascendant Dragon Monk Demetrios Zalaoras || Protector Aasimar / Paladin of Torm Hawke || Kalashtar / Circle of the Moon Druid Morticia || Half-Aasimar Rogue Yvan || Goliath / Path of the Wild Soul Barbarian | Paladin of Helm /ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
BEFORE any other healing happens, Sana makes sure to use her Channel Divinity to Turn the Tide.
EVERYONE below half hp gains 6 hp.
And then she gives Kali and Carrhae each a hug, grinning. "Kali, Carrhae, it's amazing to see you both again. Don't worry, the Belle's doing great, I left it in the capable hands of Chandor and our daughter, Alia, and her family. Okay, who else needs some healing?"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
A surprisingly nimble centaur in silver half-plate races across many a battlefield or around them, as was forwarned by the banite. But escaping them altogether was impossible. He learned the price of twice over through the loss of goods, loss of time, and nearly in the loss of limbs. So, every advantage he had, Yarog would press and move on without hesitation. He could afford to do no less once rest became a nigh impossible thing. And with the symbol of Heimdall on his shield, and a song of victory in his heart, faltering easily would not be the way of things. Even when visited by ghosts of the past in the form of those who gave themselves far too wholly to the concept of war...
Using Peerless Skill to add Bardic Die to a few Rolls: #1: 6 to 17 of the 1st Athletics Roll, making it a 20. #2: 3 to 16 of the 2nd Insight Roll, making it a 24. #3: 9 to 15 of the 1st Perception Roll, making it a 21. #4: 6 to 18 of the 1st Survival Roll, making it a 22.
(S/N: Using Blade Ward in place of rage, re-upping as necessary for resistance factor)
Starting at 14th level, when you make an ability check, you can expend one use of Bardic Inspiration. Roll a Bardic Inspiration die and add the number rolled to your ability check. You can choose to do so after you roll the die for the ability check, but before the DM tells you whether you succeed or fail.
But, for all the speed int he world, he arrives at the sight of the others holding on by a thread, strumming a mystical harp that seemed to be just keeping him from bleeding out. Only the horn(instrument) symbol on his shield faired better than the rest of him. As the last note falls silent, he puts it away takes off his helmet and slides under an arm, revealing a fairly handsome of a chocolate skinned man with long, salt and pepper colored hair, and tired grin on his face.
(Cure Wounds from MI to self, restoring: 25 HP.)
"They certainly do enjoy their trail by battle, these banites."Spoke the husky-voiced Yarog. "Storyteller Yarog, at your collective assistance." He leans, and even his black-blurred and armored stallion half lowers for it.
RECAP:We all arrived on the outskirts of Acheron's Battle Cube at a small war camp run by a Prime and a contingent of soldiers. Expecting our arrival, they told us Praxia had destroyed the long range portal systems and thus we all had to use the short range portals to reach Banehold on Chernoggar. This involved us traveling by foot. Our journey led us through the underground caverns in the Battle Cube to reach the short range portal that would take us to the Blue Cube. After the Blue Cube was Chernoggar - cube of Banehold and where Legion Commander Misha was waiting for us - assuming we survived the entire journey.
Above and inside the cube, we encountered hazardous terrain and patrols of countless roaming bands of goblins and orcs. They spared us no mercy, and some of our team took heavy casualties. Luckily, there were those that were able to heal, and during the journey, we talked among ourselves - old friends getting reacquired, and new friends getting to know each other better.
NOTE:After everyone has rolled for the journey through the Battle Cube, work together to heal each other. The journey though a war torn cube that is home to the God of the orcs and goblins is indeed a hazardous one - do your best to cast spells, using slots of course, to mitigate the damage. There is no time to rest as you traverse the Battle Cube, it is too heavily populated and patrolled with enemies.
Press on, those that haven't rolled. Misha awaits you two cubes away.
It’s the first thing they warn you about, when you start this journey. Time is not your friend. It is your enemy. How much time have we lost?
Surus Anaximander II. Yes, that is the name they gave me when I saw the promised land, the home of order and law. A world of machines and precision, of order and balance. Mechanus.
I never did get around to ask what happened to Surus Anaximander I. Did he die? Was he forgotten? Did he run out of time?
Sometimes I worry that I am running out of time. We all are.
The second lesson they taught me and the others was meant to keep us sane. Memory, they said, is your friend. I worry they lied. See a thousand sunsets in a million colors on a hundred worlds, and you begin to look forward to forgetting a few. No time. Must leave. She… She comes to reclaim her own. Foolishness, to build a god. Making new gods is never allowed for in the codex. Why is that? You’d think after the last few pantheons fell, somebody’d have noticed. No time. She has the secret. The secret is on Acheron. The secret to how not to lose my mind. How not to run out of time.
…
I think I may already be too late.
…
Athletics: 8, 5
Insight: 13, 22
Perception: 20, 17
Stealth: 4, 18
Survival: 22, 12
Using 15 sorc points into Bulwark of law, mitigating 67 damage over the course of the journey.
A gaunt figure emerges from the tunnels, leaning heavily on a gnarled staff. He regards you all with pale blue eyes that glow softly behind thin crystal lenses, a face mask of iron bearing thousands of tiny lines and marks of interplanar power.
It is Surus Anaximander II, emissary of Mechanus, and he is badly wounded. A great orc javelin bisects his torso, run through just above the stomach. He does not bleed, though faint wisps of mist occasionally drift from the gaping holes in his metallic carapace. With a sigh that is felt more than heard, he collapses amidst the group. (remaining hp, for reference: 2)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"Yes, well, welcome to Acheron my severely injured friend?"Yarog said uncertain of the mist, and yet approached all the same to inspect the wounds. "I do apologize if this stings," He takes the javelin in one hand, and in a pale mirror Carrhae's own magic, sung from back of his throat. As the air itself began visibly vibrate and distort, the weapons is drawn out, slowly but surely out; leaving hardly a wound as time rewound itself.
Casting Song of Time, healing Surus by 72 over a minute.
Without missing a beat, he looked to Mordok next, and with a stomping of hooves projected his magic the warriors way. An unspoken thanks in advance, if nothing else.
(Mordok, if healing is accepted, is restored by 70 HP from a (6th level)Song of Time, Revised)
His eyes roamed after to the others; each in their own various states of trouble. Mayhaps they each had a means to maintain their vitality? Or mayhaps they were even more limited than he in that regard? Beads of sweat visibly gathered on his forehead as he maintained the song, but pressed on he did with the reverberating song until with a final clap, space snaps back to normal. If but with the added caveat of various wounds either having been undone, or fast forward in time to the point of scabbing over. "That's... oof. Haven't held together notes so long," He admits with a chuckle. "We should be wary. We will not have much time to rest before pressing on soon, I suspect."
(Zaede, Self, Captain Sana, Surus, Kali, and Mordok, if further healing is accepted, receive the 24 points of healing from (5th level)Song of Time, Concluding Verse)
Vastly restored, Anaximander rises, still leaning on his staff, and bows respectfully to Yarog. The tears in his body mend as the leaked mist coalesces into a firm pseudometal, returning him to a relatively normal, though markedly mechanical, appearance.
"Your talent to restore outweighs mine own to predict the Vagaries. I owe you a debt. Would that this plane were more predictable in its outcomes so as to make both our disciplines inert." Surus snaps his head to one side, studying the symbol emblazoned on Yarog's shield, as well as the stunning red plate.
"You hail from Ravnica? You too are a fellow traveler of the Realities Myriad?"
Stealth (invisibility at will - rolling with advantage?): 21; 22
Survival: 9; 19
The warlock's magic abilities were not helpful in navigating the tunnels. Despite his ability to levitate and turn invisible at will, or even blast ten to twenty monsters at once in fiery or radiant destruction, the sheer numbers of orcs and goblins, and the natural dangers of the tunnels, were more than he could safely navigate on his own...(202 total points of damage!)
Throughout his journey, a glow surged around the construct whenever he took a massive amount of damage, reconstructing the metal and synthetic fibers that made up his body. (20 Temp HP and Healing Light: 55 = 18 HP left!!)
Zippo:
A badly damaged warforged with a small dragon curled protectively around his shoulders comes limping out of the tunnels at the portal site, a staff of obvious magical origins n one of his hands. The creature scans the others already gathered, then walks with purpose towards one. Surus Anaximander II. The warforged places one hand lightly on the man's shoulder, waits a moment, then slowly shakes his head as if in regret. He then gestures to his battered and torn form, and makes a gesture to indicate regret.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Raktimos, the Peerless
Stretching his wings and gazing over the fields of Avalas, Raktimos watches as the endless armies of Maglubiyet and Gruumsh war. “This is a plane of madness.” He takes a long draw of breath, “I love it!” He releases a hearty laugh of glee before taking off in flight across Avalas
Across the open fields, Raktimos ducks and weaves through the air on his Dragon wings Athletics: 1215
Keeping an ever watchful eye on the figures he encounters to determine if he must burn them up in dragon fire Insight: 1426
Raktimos watches ever carefully for dangers, although, to safeguard himself, he uses his scepter to conjure a GLOBE OF INVULNERABILITY, for this leg of his journey to protect from any damage from unseen attackers as he descends down from the sky and searches for the tunnel entrance described in the communications from this Bane servant, Misha Perception 93
Down in the Tunnels, as a precaution, Raktimos will mutter ancient words, and shift into the ethereal plane. “There, this will aid me in moving through these infernal tunnels safely (In the Ethereal plane, I’m incorporeal on the material plane, for 8 hours, nothing on the material plane can physically interact with me)
Stealth: 717
Survival: 199 Once he finds the rest of the squad he will re-coalesce his form.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Corinne Hemlock: Dhampir courtesan and dusk huntress Kraig Bronzeaxe: Dwarven archaeologist and guerilla archer
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
As Zaeda feels the healing energies of Sana and Carrhae wash over her, she jumps up and drunkenly staggers away from Carrhae. "What? Who? Where am I?" Looking around at the strange group of people around her, Zaeda shakes her head and pulls out one of the many potion bottles on her and drinks the ale inside (amulet of the drunkard heals 11). "Where are my manners? I am Zaeda and in your debt beautiful woman for saving me back there. I am afraid I did not expect this journey to be quite so perilous before it even began. Here is a gift of my thanks," She says as she reaches down and pours another potion on Carrhae's sword. The blade begins to glow for a moment. "There. Now your blade shall be even stronger. It is a special brew I discovered trying to make my special alcohols."
Raktimos stretches his wings before tucking them back up against his body, screaming out an old dragon song of victory and war.
”Ah! It’s good to be in the action again. Well met, uh....” He looks around at the assembled crowd in various stages of wounded and drunk, “fellow? Warriors? What brings you to the Elysian Fields of war and tyranny?”
Raktimos is a MASSIVE Dragonborn, it looks like he’s midway through transforming into a true dragon, standing at nearly 9 1/2’ tall. His scales are a burnt crimson color, almost red orange in hue, his head tendrils spill down onto his shoulders with jewels and precious metals in rings adorning them. He wears only thin platinum gauntlets, a amulet of Tiamat and a gold torc (metal ring around his neck) inset with a sickly glowing emerald jewel from the waist up, with gaudy silks encrusted with jewels draped around his waist in a skirt-like robe. A tail peeks out from behind his skirts. In his grip is a wicked looking sceptre completely covered in ancient draconic runes.
He appears at home in the destructive environment but looks at his fellows skeptically, “Are you ALL here to aid Bane? We are talking about Bane, the god of Tyranny and war, yes? You are hear on purpose?”
"Oh! Thank you Zaeda, I imagine that will come in handy before this is all over." She finishes responding to the halfling in time to hear the Dragonborn ask his question. "I am indeed here on purpose. My friend Misha needs help defending her home and I'm here to give it to her."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
"I.... don't remember... I was rather drunk last night. Some messenger came with summons for me offering some rare ingredients that I need for my alcohol brewing..." Zaeda replies to the dragonborn that towers nearly three times her height. She begins to absentmindedly strum her lyre and hums a drinking tune.
Once the rest of the party has gathered, they hear someone come huffing up to where they are. A beaten and battered messenger of Bane comes stumbling in. Under one arm, is a small, green haired halfing, wearing green robes and covered in bottles of liquids of varying colors and sizes. The messenger takes one look at the gathered party and exclaims loudly, "Here. I brought this useless girl with me. I don't know why Bane told me to bring her, but I did. She is your problem now." He unceremoniously drops the halfling and hurries away muttering something about bloody drinking song will never get out of my head. Looking down at the halfing, she is covered in cut, burns, and more injuries. She is also very much unconscious and covered in her own blood.
Carrhae gets through the war cube beaten and bruised, but conscious, thanks to Death Ward. "Kali, Sana, I missed the two of you over the years, but I did not miss almost getting killed." She gives herself 75HP with Lay on Hands and then grabs the unconscious halfling and starts to pray over her. "Sune, I don't know who this girl is, but she did not come here to die so soon. Please let her live." She cradles the girl in her arms and casts Aura of Vitality, healing her 75 over the course of a minute. "Hey there, I'm Carrhae. Welcome back to the land of the living."
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
More
"Who the fu--" Kali quickly turns herself around to punch at the ****er who gave her an unwarranted slap at the shoulder, but she reels her fist back when her eyes meet with the giant hulk of a man. "Ain't ****in' with that. Uh... Nice to meet ya too?"
The hybrid is then taken aback at the messenger dropping off an unconscious halfling, Carrhae quick to heal her back up. The brunette rubs her temples to assuage an incoming headache. "So much is happenin' in such a little time frame..."
Aeyd of the Dragons || Wood Elf / Way of the Ascendant Dragon Monk
Demetrios Zalaoras || Protector Aasimar / Paladin of Torm
Hawke || Kalashtar / Circle of the Moon Druid
Morticia || Half-Aasimar Rogue
Yvan || Goliath / Path of the Wild Soul Barbarian | Paladin of Helm
/ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\
BEFORE any other healing happens, Sana makes sure to use her Channel Divinity to Turn the Tide.
EVERYONE below half hp gains 6 hp.
And then she gives Kali and Carrhae each a hug, grinning. "Kali, Carrhae, it's amazing to see you both again. Don't worry, the Belle's doing great, I left it in the capable hands of Chandor and our daughter, Alia, and her family. Okay, who else needs some healing?"
Stella Diamant, Human Rogue 17 (Swashbuckler), The Exploits of Misfit Company
Kat, Medtech, Cyberpunk: Red
Shi, Changeling Bard 4 (College of Spirits), Tyrant's Grasp
Dani, Human Artificer 9 (Armorer), Skulls and Starships
DM, Project Point (Teams Scimitar and Longsword)
Everything Else!
Mordok feels a little tingly inside, kind of like climbing the rope in gym class, thanks to that tender loving healz from Sana.
Clueless as always, Mordok just laughs at the assembled group. "Oi, a mighty fine group o' warriors we are!"
Last to know and first to be blamed...
As a free action, can I regret my life choices?
A surprisingly nimble centaur in silver half-plate races across many a battlefield or around them, as was forwarned by the banite. But escaping them altogether was impossible. He learned the price of twice over through the loss of goods, loss of time, and nearly in the loss of limbs. So, every advantage he had, Yarog would press and move on without hesitation. He could afford to do no less once rest became a nigh impossible thing. And with the symbol of Heimdall on his shield, and a song of victory in his heart, faltering easily would not be the way of things. Even when visited by ghosts of the past in the form of those who gave themselves far too wholly to the concept of war...
Pic:
Athletics(DC 25): 12, 26.
Insight(DC 25): 21, 28.
Perception(DC 25): 15, 32.
Stealth(DC 25): 18, 28.
Survival(25): 10, 19.
Using Peerless Skill to add Bardic Die to a few Rolls:
#1: 6 to 17 of the 1st Athletics Roll, making it a 20.
#2: 3 to 16 of the 2nd Insight Roll, making it a 24.
#3: 9 to 15 of the 1st Perception Roll, making it a 21.
#4: 6 to 18 of the 1st Survival Roll, making it a 22.
(S/N: Using Blade Ward in place of rage, re-upping as necessary for resistance factor)
Starting at 14th level, when you make an ability check, you can expend one use of Bardic Inspiration. Roll a Bardic Inspiration die and add the number rolled to your ability check. You can choose to do so after you roll the die for the ability check, but before the DM tells you whether you succeed or fail.
But, for all the speed int he world, he arrives at the sight of the others holding on by a thread, strumming a mystical harp that seemed to be just keeping him from bleeding out. Only the horn(instrument) symbol on his shield faired better than the rest of him. As the last note falls silent, he puts it away takes off his helmet and slides under an arm, revealing a fairly handsome of a chocolate skinned man with long, salt and pepper colored hair, and tired grin on his face.
(Cure Wounds from MI to self, restoring: 25 HP.)
"They certainly do enjoy their trail by battle, these banites." Spoke the husky-voiced Yarog. "Storyteller Yarog, at your collective assistance." He leans, and even his black-blurred and armored stallion half lowers for it.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
"I knew that you'd be able to take care of the Belle, Sana. But I didn't know that you and Chandor had started a family."
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
More
Sana: Rolled, Carrhae: Rolled, Kali: Rolled, Misha: On Chernoggar, Mordok: Rolled, Yarog: Rolled, Zaeda: Rolled, Raktimos: ????, Surus: Rolled, Zippo: ????
RECAP: We all arrived on the outskirts of Acheron's Battle Cube at a small war camp run by a Prime and a contingent of soldiers. Expecting our arrival, they told us Praxia had destroyed the long range portal systems and thus we all had to use the short range portals to reach Banehold on Chernoggar. This involved us traveling by foot. Our journey led us through the underground caverns in the Battle Cube to reach the short range portal that would take us to the Blue Cube. After the Blue Cube was Chernoggar - cube of Banehold and where Legion Commander Misha was waiting for us - assuming we survived the entire journey.
Above and inside the cube, we encountered hazardous terrain and patrols of countless roaming bands of goblins and orcs. They spared us no mercy, and some of our team took heavy casualties. Luckily, there were those that were able to heal, and during the journey, we talked among ourselves - old friends getting reacquired, and new friends getting to know each other better.
NOTE: After everyone has rolled for the journey through the Battle Cube, work together to heal each other. The journey though a war torn cube that is home to the God of the orcs and goblins is indeed a hazardous one - do your best to cast spells, using slots of course, to mitigate the damage. There is no time to rest as you traverse the Battle Cube, it is too heavily populated and patrolled with enemies.
Press on, those that haven't rolled. Misha awaits you two cubes away.
PROLOGUE:
…
notimenotimenotimenotimenotimenotimenotime
…
Am I late? There is no telling.
It’s the first thing they warn you about, when you start this journey. Time is not your friend. It is your enemy. How much time have we lost?
Surus Anaximander II. Yes, that is the name they gave me when I saw the promised land, the home of order and law. A world of machines and precision, of order and balance. Mechanus.
I never did get around to ask what happened to Surus Anaximander I. Did he die? Was he forgotten? Did he run out of time?
Sometimes I worry that I am running out of time. We all are.
The second lesson they taught me and the others was meant to keep us sane. Memory, they said, is your friend. I worry they lied. See a thousand sunsets in a million colors on a hundred worlds, and you begin to look forward to forgetting a few. No time. Must leave. She… She comes to reclaim her own. Foolishness, to build a god. Making new gods is never allowed for in the codex. Why is that? You’d think after the last few pantheons fell, somebody’d have noticed. No time. She has the secret. The secret is on Acheron. The secret to how not to lose my mind. How not to run out of time.
…
I think I may already be too late.
…
Athletics: 8, 5
Insight: 13, 22
Perception: 20, 17
Stealth: 4, 18
Survival: 22, 12
Using 15 sorc points into Bulwark of law, mitigating 67 damage over the course of the journey.
aand another 10d8 for converted sorcery points: 43
aand another 4d8:16
A gaunt figure emerges from the tunnels, leaning heavily on a gnarled staff. He regards you all with pale blue eyes that glow softly behind thin crystal lenses, a face mask of iron bearing thousands of tiny lines and marks of interplanar power.
It is Surus Anaximander II, emissary of Mechanus, and he is badly wounded. A great orc javelin bisects his torso, run through just above the stomach. He does not bleed, though faint wisps of mist occasionally drift from the gaping holes in his metallic carapace. With a sigh that is felt more than heard, he collapses amidst the group. (remaining hp, for reference: 2)
"So... uncivilized. erk."
"Yes, well, welcome to Acheron my severely injured friend?" Yarog said uncertain of the mist, and yet approached all the same to inspect the wounds. "I do apologize if this stings," He takes the javelin in one hand, and in a pale mirror Carrhae's own magic, sung from back of his throat. As the air itself began visibly vibrate and distort, the weapons is drawn out, slowly but surely out; leaving hardly a wound as time rewound itself.
Casting Song of Time, healing Surus by 72 over a minute.
Without missing a beat, he looked to Mordok next, and with a stomping of hooves projected his magic the warriors way. An unspoken thanks in advance, if nothing else.
(Mordok, if healing is accepted, is restored by 70 HP from a (6th level)Song of Time, Revised)
His eyes roamed after to the others; each in their own various states of trouble. Mayhaps they each had a means to maintain their vitality? Or mayhaps they were even more limited than he in that regard? Beads of sweat visibly gathered on his forehead as he maintained the song, but pressed on he did with the reverberating song until with a final clap, space snaps back to normal. If but with the added caveat of various wounds either having been undone, or fast forward in time to the point of scabbing over. "That's... oof. Haven't held together notes so long," He admits with a chuckle. "We should be wary. We will not have much time to rest before pressing on soon, I suspect."
(Zaede, Self, Captain Sana, Surus, Kali, and Mordok, if further healing is accepted, receive the 24 points of healing from (5th level)Song of Time, Concluding Verse)
Song of Inspiration:
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
Vastly restored, Anaximander rises, still leaning on his staff, and bows respectfully to Yarog. The tears in his body mend as the leaked mist coalesces into a firm pseudometal, returning him to a relatively normal, though markedly mechanical, appearance.
"Your talent to restore outweighs mine own to predict the Vagaries. I owe you a debt. Would that this plane were more predictable in its outcomes so as to make both our disciplines inert." Surus snaps his head to one side, studying the symbol emblazoned on Yarog's shield, as well as the stunning red plate.
"You hail from Ravnica? You too are a fellow traveler of the Realities Myriad?"
Athletics (this is gonna hurt...): 22; 11
Insight: 24; 16
Perception: 8; 26
Stealth (invisibility at will - rolling with advantage?): 21; 22
Survival: 9; 19
The warlock's magic abilities were not helpful in navigating the tunnels. Despite his ability to levitate and turn invisible at will, or even blast ten to twenty monsters at once in fiery or radiant destruction, the sheer numbers of orcs and goblins, and the natural dangers of the tunnels, were more than he could safely navigate on his own...(202 total points of damage!)
Throughout his journey, a glow surged around the construct whenever he took a massive amount of damage, reconstructing the metal and synthetic fibers that made up his body. (20 Temp HP and Healing Light: 55 = 18 HP left!!)
Zippo:
A badly damaged warforged with a small dragon curled protectively around his shoulders comes limping out of the tunnels at the portal site, a staff of obvious magical origins n one of his hands. The creature scans the others already gathered, then walks with purpose towards one. Surus Anaximander II. The warforged places one hand lightly on the man's shoulder, waits a moment, then slowly shakes his head as if in regret. He then gestures to his battered and torn form, and makes a gesture to indicate regret.
Love God. Love Others. Any Questions?
Raktimos, the Peerless
Stretching his wings and gazing over the fields of Avalas, Raktimos watches as the endless armies of Maglubiyet and Gruumsh war. “This is a plane of madness.” He takes a long draw of breath, “I love it!” He releases a hearty laugh of glee before taking off in flight across Avalas
Across the open fields, Raktimos ducks and weaves through the air on his Dragon wings
Athletics: 12 15
Keeping an ever watchful eye on the figures he encounters to determine if he must burn them up in dragon fire
Insight: 14 26
Raktimos watches ever carefully for dangers, although, to safeguard himself, he uses his scepter to conjure a GLOBE OF INVULNERABILITY, for this leg of his journey to protect from any damage from unseen attackers as he descends down from the sky and searches for the tunnel entrance described in the communications from this Bane servant, Misha
Perception 9 3
Down in the Tunnels, as a precaution, Raktimos will mutter ancient words, and shift into the ethereal plane. “There, this will aid me in moving through these infernal tunnels safely (In the Ethereal plane, I’m incorporeal on the material plane, for 8 hours, nothing on the material plane can physically interact with me)
Stealth: 7 17
Survival: 19 9
Once he finds the rest of the squad he will re-coalesce his form.
Corinne Hemlock: Dhampir courtesan and dusk huntress
Kraig Bronzeaxe: Dwarven archaeologist and guerilla archer
As Zaeda feels the healing energies of Sana and Carrhae wash over her, she jumps up and drunkenly staggers away from Carrhae. "What? Who? Where am I?" Looking around at the strange group of people around her, Zaeda shakes her head and pulls out one of the many potion bottles on her and drinks the ale inside (amulet of the drunkard heals 11). "Where are my manners? I am Zaeda and in your debt beautiful woman for saving me back there. I am afraid I did not expect this journey to be quite so perilous before it even began. Here is a gift of my thanks," She says as she reaches down and pours another potion on Carrhae's sword. The blade begins to glow for a moment. "There. Now your blade shall be even stronger. It is a special brew I discovered trying to make my special alcohols."
Raktimos stretches his wings before tucking them back up against his body, screaming out an old dragon song of victory and war.
”Ah! It’s good to be in the action again. Well met, uh....” He looks around at the assembled crowd in various stages of wounded and drunk, “fellow? Warriors? What brings you to the Elysian Fields of war and tyranny?”
Raktimos is a MASSIVE Dragonborn, it looks like he’s midway through transforming into a true dragon, standing at nearly 9 1/2’ tall. His scales are a burnt crimson color, almost red orange in hue, his head tendrils spill down onto his shoulders with jewels and precious metals in rings adorning them. He wears only thin platinum gauntlets, a amulet of Tiamat and a gold torc (metal ring around his neck) inset with a sickly glowing emerald jewel from the waist up, with gaudy silks encrusted with jewels draped around his waist in a skirt-like robe. A tail peeks out from behind his skirts. In his grip is a wicked looking sceptre completely covered in ancient draconic runes.
He appears at home in the destructive environment but looks at his fellows skeptically, “Are you ALL here to aid Bane? We are talking about Bane, the god of Tyranny and war, yes? You are hear on purpose?”
Corinne Hemlock: Dhampir courtesan and dusk huntress
Kraig Bronzeaxe: Dwarven archaeologist and guerilla archer
"Oh! Thank you Zaeda, I imagine that will come in handy before this is all over." She finishes responding to the halfling in time to hear the Dragonborn ask his question. "I am indeed here on purpose. My friend Misha needs help defending her home and I'm here to give it to her."
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
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"I.... don't remember... I was rather drunk last night. Some messenger came with summons for me offering some rare ingredients that I need for my alcohol brewing..." Zaeda replies to the dragonborn that towers nearly three times her height. She begins to absentmindedly strum her lyre and hums a drinking tune.