A Gnoment in Time, Part 4
Log Info
- Title: A Gnoment in Time, Part 4
- Emitter: Whirlpool
- Characters: Dirk, Zyla, Skielstregar, Paenitia, Ravenstongue, Vaera, Lyme
- Place: Felwood: Farland's Mage's Magnificent Mansion
- Time: Thursday, October 06, 2022, 10:00 PM
- Summary: The Invisible Assailant is rendered unconscious and bound. The party discusses what it is, and what to do about it. Vaera confirms it is an extra-planar being, an Invisible Stalker, possibly sent for political reasons. It could be dismissed, but it's just as easily killed, so Skielstregar dispatches it. Morning comes, breakfast happens, and Farland is upset. Leaving the MMM, the party ventures forth into the Felwood where Cor'lana determines there is a magic peak, spell casting and even magic items could cause disaster!
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing in Order =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Dirk 4'11" 295 Lb Mountain Dwarf Male A rugged old dwarf, dressed for the outdoors. Zyla 7'5" 310 Lb Giantborn Female Massive woman in simple clothing and robes. Skielstregar 7'2" 330 Lb Sith-Makar Male A brilliantly silver scale with fangs and empty eyes. Paenitia 3'0" 34 Lb Halfling Female A Lucht knight, dark skinned in bold feathery finery. Ravenstongue 5'0" 99 Lb Half-Elf Female Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair. Vaera 7'0" 262 Lb Sith-Makar Female A tall, dark red Makari with a metallic leg. Lyme 7'2" 435 Lb Orc Butch Black-skinned oruch of suitable stature -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Asleep -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Farland Gnome Male Associate of Griva, Resurrectionist, Wizard -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Whirlpool Otyugh I am stinky! -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= EVENTS: A Gnoment in Time Part 4 is scheduled to start RIGHT NOW! GAME: Ravenstongue casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 10 DC: 17 GAME: Ravenstongue casts Haste. Caster Level: 10 DC: 19 GAME: Ravenstongue casts Glitterdust/Persistent. Caster Level: 10 DC: 20 GAME: Ravenstongue casts Glitterdust/Persistent. Caster Level: 10 DC: 20 GAME: Ravenstongue casts Magic Missile. Caster Level: 10 DC: 17
Previously
Inside Farland's Mage's Magnificent Mansion, a struggle continues between the party and some invisible entity that attacked Paenitia. With Cor'lana's glitterdust only partially revealing it, Skielstregar and others attack, but miss. Paenitia manages to bag it with a bedsheet, allowing Cor'lana to get her glitterdust spell to stick, but it escapes into the sauna. Everyone follows, and the steam is obscuring things, and once more the party struggles to land blows that will stun it. Paenitia grabs it again, successfully holding it, allowing Zyla to beat it completely into submission
The invisible creature is defeated and bound in blankets and bedsheets. It's strong. It's likely that won't prevent an insurmountable challenge to it, but until you can figure out something better to do, it'll have to do.
That means figuring out how to keep an eye on it after the glitter wears off. Unfortunately, magical glitter, unlike the real stuff, *does* evaporate.
Meanwhile, Farland's snores are echoing, the sauna is at least turned off, and you're able to figure out your next steps until Farland wakes up.
Could be a bit.
Now
Dirk peeks around the corner of the door, squinting at the be-sheeted figure his friends have tied up. "Is it -dead-?" he asks nervously, gripping his thunderbelcher in a white-knuckled grip. "What the hell -is- it?!"
Zyla shakes her head, "Shouldn't be dead, tried to just knock it unconscious though it might be that way for a while." she says after all she did smack it hard repeatedly, at least she didn't stomp on it too, she has been known to do that when she knocks someone down.
Skielstregar is taking his time recovering from his exertion. ".. isss... isss there anything that can mark? Like... ink? We could pour over it to sssee what it issss. Flour, maybe? If Pothy did not eat the flour too?"
"It is taking the short nap, not the long nap." The dark lucht says, her clothes clinging to her form and becoming transparent. Not quite as invisible as the stalker, but the steam is not helping her hide as much as it is helping the thing.
"The bedsheet will not hold it long when it awakes, and the glittering will not last. The Mansion does not have the prison room."
"The big question. Two questions." She crosses her arms, "Do we need keep it or can we throw it outside? And if it outside, can it make the way back in."
Cor'lana just stares at Pothy at Skielstregar's suggestion. "Well?" she asks. "Did you eat all the flour?"
Pothy burps. Cor'lana just sighs and she looks back to the group. "If it's... unconscious, then maybe we can just throw it outside, like Madame Paenitia said. We'd probably have to be quick, though, and..."
She frowns. "Well, if it snuck in before, it's probably reason to stand that it could probably sneak back in again. Somehow."
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Knowledge/The Planes+2: (5)+7+2: 14 GAME: Vaera rolls knowledge/the planes: (20)+2: 22 GAME: Dirk rolls Knowledge/The Planes: (20)+3: 23
"Ah, I've heard of these things before. Something quite common among mul'niessa politics." Vaera chuffs. "Couldn't really focus with everything going on. Invisible Stalker, I believe that's the term used for them. They're not from this plane, they're drawn here by someone to kill someone, so, it's great isn't it? Really hard to pin one to any specific person, and if you kill it, it's gone without a trace."
"The red makari shakes her head, and looks out the door. "So, I think we need to have a chat with our employer. He said he didn't expect any trouble, and brought us? Yet someone had to have summoned that thing, so there's something going on."
Skielstregar blinks at Vaera, then he chuffs, getting to his feet with a grunt. "... thisss one can be rid of it," he mentions, hefting his halberd, half posing it execution style. "Then thisss one can get the Door Knocker for Farland. Or wait until morning."
The Door Knocker is an adamantine warhammer.
Dirk scowls dourly at the bundle. "Aye, someone set this thing on our -friend-," he grumbles. "An' put -us- right in the middle o' his shenanigans? But... what do we -do- wi' the damned thing? That's the question, innit?" He looks back up at Skiel, patting his thunderbelcher. "Oh, I've got the perfect waker-upper right here, lad. Nothin' like a gunshot from three feet away tae really get the blood movin'!"
Skielstregar mentions, motioning towards Vaera. "We already shot next to hissss door earlier."
Cor'lana yawns and blinks her eyes a couple of times. Now that the sorceress isn't actively trying to pursue an enemy to kill it, it seems she's more interested in pursuing the rest of a good night's sleep. "Just take care of it and we can all hopefully go back to bed," she says.
Pothy looks interested in this idea. Maybe it's because Cor'lana being asleep means he can go root through her bag for snacks. Ravenstongue has partially disconnected.
Paenitia nods, looking somewhat like a wet ghost. "I agree with the friend dragons. If there are no answers to come from it, we do not need it and can send it back to the plane."
"By the killing."
The little lucht shrugs, "it give me the hard squeeze that not a loving one. We should dispatch this one, then check that it is not the distraction for something that is happen to Farland."
If its extra planar, it should be dismiss-able. Farland may have the capacity. Then again, he may not. Killing it is an alternative that will probably send it back to its home plane, if it is a summon. A flying, invisible monster is pretty dangerous to leave around. It already tried to outright strangle Paenitia.
Zyla quiets a little just leaning back against the wall and listening to the others talk.
GAME: Skielstregar rolls 3d10+63: (15)+63: 78
Seeing as the consensus going around was to rid it before it could cause more problems, the shiny silverscale bobs his head and hefts his halberd. "Very well," he says a bit grimly. "Pleassse ssstand back."
The halberd cocks back. Black ichor lines the blade. It raises, a glint of gleam coming off the weapon at the apex.
Then a full body swing crashes into the blanket covered captive, wood splintering underneath it as the weapon is buried deep into the floor.
Skiel sighs, letting the weapon stay there as he rolls his head. "... we ssshould ressst, then explain later."
"I go sleep in the stables with Ramirez, my room is ruined and the bedsheet is worse." Paenitia announces. "I make sure he does not go on the more mid-night snacking or the early morning snacking."
Cor'lana makes a face as the work is done. "Well," she says, "that's that. I'll make sure Pothy doesn't sneak out, either."
Pothy looks up at Cor'lana with horrified blue eyes. What evil torment does she plan on administering to him? Will he be stuffed into a birdcage meant for parakeets? "Save me," he whimpers in Cor'lana's voice.
"Oh, calm down, Pothy. It just means I have to give you extra Pothy cuddles. Pretty much the only time you never want snacks is if someone's giving you affection." Cor'lana pats the bird on the head, and all is well. (Except, of course, the food stores of the mansion.)
Dirk gets wide-eyed as Skiel makes short work of the invisible stalker. "Heek!" Blink blink. "Well. That's -that-, then, innit?" Lulu perks her head out from behind the corner. Blink blink. "Hoo?" Dirk glances back at his owl and shakes his head. "No, lassie, I dinnae think -I'll- be gettin' much sleep neither," he grumbles. "Wonder if there's any booze in this damned place? Least I can get meself shitfaced. That'll do near 'nough, I'll warrant."
Skielstregar gestures for his weapon to 'come here', and it melts into the ground in a brackish puddle before zipping over to him and reforming in his hand. "Thisss one agrees," he chuckles tiredly to Cor'lana and Pothy's antics. "Let usss resst with sssome watchesss about."
He starts ambling towards his room.
The rest of the night passes uneventfully -- even if the animals are wanting to get back to the kitchens, they're still regretful in the morning on account of *how much they ate*. Animals, even animal companions to adventurers, are not always capable of making the best decisions around limitless food.
They're not gonna be too useful today.
Still, morning rolls around and Farland steps out of his room with a big olf yawn and stretch and, "WHAT THE HELL?" There is, after all, a pretty big mess out here from teh fighting.
"Hola! Farland. Have you the good sleep?" Paenitia calls cheerfully. If she is sleepy, she hides it well and her proper suit of armour gives away no tells. "We have the good time in the night."
"And the question too. There is someone after you? That would send assassins? I ask as the long time friend." Who has been through a lot with him.
The massive makari lumbers out, fully armored and armed, rubbing frost from his eyes. "We tried to wake you but it wassss in vain," he sighs. "We fight thing in our night clothes. Erm. What wasss it called again? Invisssible... balker? Talker?"
Pothy looks vaguely miserable as Cor'lana shuffles out of her room, dressed in her adventuring gear and with her familiar white raven on her shoulder. The sorceress looks a little tired, but otherwise fine. "Invisible stalker," she says, tagging onto Skielstregar's statement. "A creature that is summoned to kill people. And given that none of us here have any enemies that would be trying to kill us with an invisible stalker, Madame Paenitia's question stands, sir Farland."
Vaera had as decent of a sleep as she could manage, which is to say, not as much at all, knowing that the building wasn't safe deadly, invisible creatures from another plane had access to it."
"No, not the hell, one of the many other planes." The red makari corrects with a yawn that was unsettling from the amount of teeth on display. "And yes, we have a few questions really."
"NO, NO I DID NOT." Paenitia is getting a look from Farland like she let out the ripest fart in the middle of the largest church in all the land. Stink-eye does not begin to describe iut. Bloodshot stink eye.
"...there are plenty of people who'd like to kill the resurrectionists off for a wide variety of reasons, but before we assume they're after me, it's not like all of you are free from enemies. And I know what a stalker is. Thre was one here? Really?" He scowls, then looks down at the ground for a moment.
"Could have beeen simply present. The veil between worlds is thinner here than in other places, a consequence of proximity to the Felwood. Unlikely, but not impossible. And it's not as if I am the only persom here with enemies." A LOOK AT RAVENSTONGUE. She definitely has un-fans.
Zyla nods her head a bit, "Was a pain in the .." she starts and then shakes her head, "Um, just a pain." she says and then cocks her head to the side as she looks at them all and then settles against the wall again.
"The Iron Baron, the Ivory Queen and the Platinum Prince are far in Isobar, and they would have sent the friend for me much sooner." Paenitia opines cheerfully. Farland has a stylized grinning mask staring back at him, he can make of it what he will. Only her eyes glitter behind the eye-holds, "It do try choking me. I think that more the happy accident than the secret rendezvous."
"It was here, yes. It is gone now, yes. If you do not think it important, that it accidentally in your mansion, I do not have the magic to question otherwise. Ha-ha. I will have to take your word." She sounds happy, but there's a tone.
"Ah, yesss, that iss what it isss." Skielstregar blinks slowly. One eye. Then the other. "Thisss one hasss no enemiesss. Jussst friendsss they haven't met yet..." he rumbles quietly to himself.
His halberd turns slightly, flat of the blade reflecting his face back him. Skiel. Stop being sappy.
He shakes his head, focusing on the now. A shared glance to Cor'lana. "Ok. Well. Erm. What now?"
He quietly rumbles a chuckle at Paenitia's antics.
Cor'lana facepalms at the accusation. "Okay, yes, I have at least one person who is a profoundly disgusting individual that would probably like to hurt me, but this isn't his style," she elaborates. "He's not exceptionally bright, for one thing, and he's easily distracted--more importantly, he doesn't really do /quiet/ and /stealth/ like this. He's big, loud, obnoxious, hairy, and annoying. Pretty much the opposite of the invisible stalker."
Pothy whistles a little tune at Cor'lana, and she sighs. "Yes, Pothy, and I couldn't have distracted the invisible stalker by showing it my cleavage or lack thereof, /thank you/ for your contribution. My only other guess is that maybe it has to do with my lineage. Or maybe my stepmother ordered an assassin from her prison--"
She facepalms again. "Okay, Farland, you have a point."
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Sense Motive: (20)+17: 37 GAME: Vaera rolls sense motive: (9)+8: 17
Cor'lana sighs and looks more sympathetically at Farland. "I don't think that anyone's accusing you of anything untoward beyond maybe being unlucky to have an enemy," she says. "We're all tired, we're all probably a bit grumpy, and Pothy ate all of the food, so we're even grumpier about that. I say we just... get a move on with the day. If that's agreeable to everyone, that is."
Dirk comes staggering into the room. His nose is red as a strawberry, his tricorne askew, and the buckles on his breastplate aren't fastened. His hair and beard are in a shocking tangle, and he hiccups loudly. "Hick-UCK! By my... hurrp... by my fathersh -beard-, whash all the--hurk!--whash all the racket, then?" he slurs.
Lulu wings into the room behind him and flutters down onto a nearby stretch of table. She hop-hop-hops, headtilting at her master. "Hoo?"
Dirk snorts. "I'm not -drunk-. I'm--HICK!--I'm shtandin' upright, aren't I?" Lulu twists her head to peer at Farland and flutters her wings again. "Hoo! Hoo-oo!" Dirk grunts, squinting blearily at Farland. "Oy! Farland, me boyo! Hurk! Good booze ye got in this setup! Oy! Did ye know..." He lurches forward with a snicker, wagging his finger at Farland. "Did ye -know-... there was shummat in here wantin' tae -kill- ye lash night?"
"You must have a lot on your mind if you still managed to get a bad sleep in spite of wards around your room stopping you from hearing firearms and furniture being thrown around the room." Vaera chuffs. "Very well then, there are many possible reasons, and it is not the time to make baseless accusations. On both our accounts, I will add."
"Could be enemies, yes. Could be some of those practicing the mul'niessan diplomacy I talked about, but I doubt it." She shrugs. Zyla shakes her head and sighs before giving a small chuckle.
Skielstregar yawns. It's a big yawn. Lots of teeth. Plume of frozen air fills the ceiling before her snaps his maw closed and shakes his head. "Thisss one agrees. Let usss get a move on."
He glances at Dirk, tilts his head to the side. "... did you get into the dirty water?" Once more, he shakes his head and rolls his shoulders. "Yesss. We all slept bad. But, that just means we can take a nap later!"
Optimistic as ever.
"Augh," is the response to Dirk, as he flails a biit. Farland clears his throat. "Yes, well, getting roused out of sleep by a mini animal revolution does tend to put a crimp on things. Now, lets aim for breakfast, assuming they left us any..."
Dirty look at Pothy!
"Snacks!" Pothy crows brightly. His blue eyes shimmer and sparkle so innocently. He's the mascot! Everybody loves Pothy! That's the law--
"Well, people can have my portion," Cor'lana announces. "As well as Pothy's. I don't need much food to sustain me, and Pothy will be content with the dried fruits I can give him."
Pothy... wilts. No breakfast. Such cruelty. Such pain.
"Ramirez will not eat, as he is still full from last night. I can have the little morning snack. What is the plan after that?" Paenitia asks, stepping aside to allow Farland to head to the remains of the feast and break his fast.
Dirk looks up at Skiel with a snort of laughter. "Dirty water? Hah! Naw, laddie... huck!... I got intae the -booze-!" He wavers unsteadily on his feet, tapping the side of his rosy red nose with a sloppy grin. "Hurk! 'f ye cannae sleep... get shitfaced! 's the nexsh besh thing!"
He looks back at Farland, squinting blearily again. "Hrm... uh... well... think I'm... oof!... think I'm good fer now..."
Lulu blink blinks. Hop-hop-hop. She reaches out and tugs at Dirk's sleeve. "Hoo?"
He looks down at her and harrumphs. "Well, ye should've thought o' -that- 'fore... urp... 'fore you went on a midnight shnakin' shpree, eh?"
Lulu headtilts, then draws herself up into her vampirowl shape. Staring daggers up at her master.
Dirk merely harrumphs again. "Oh no ye don't... yer owly cursh dinnae work on -me-..." He turns to stumble away--and promptly catches his foot on the leg of the table. "GWAGGH!" Down he goes in a flailing of limps, landing face-first on the floor. A moment later, he lifts a hand and gives a thumbs-up. "'m all right! 'm good!" he says. Mostly intelligibly, considering his face is buried in his beard, which is currently mooshed into the floor. Lulu puffs up her chest feathers and hop-hops away.
Skielstregar stares at Dirk.
He doesn't blink. He doesn't move. "Dirty water isss booze. Thisss one knowss. We are next to a bad foressst of bad magicsss and you decide to drink?" He watches the crash with slight concern, but consequences are consequences. ".. hopefully the walk will sober you," he murmurs to himself, helping Farland scrounge for a meal.
Breakfast is, at least, excellent. The food is hearty and well prepared by the transparent servants from the house's magic, and soon enough you're on your way out and the whole place is just vanishing behind you, along with all the evidence of the fight. Stalker, too, actually... what's left of him.
After that, it's an overtired Farland going with the lot of you into the misty, twisted woods that lay head: the felwood.
Cor'lana has to placate Pothy with offers of dried fruit to ensure that everyone has their fill. True to her word, she doesn't take a portion from breakfast for herself, and she's strangely quiet up to the point that the mansion spell ends and the trek into the Felwood begins.
She sighs and looks around for a moment, a hand going to her curuchuil mark on her chest. "Alright," she says. "Let's go." And she maintains a careful distance behind the bigger and tankier people--but not so far that she's easily picked off by things that stalk in the woods.
Paenitia, and Ramirez, take up a position trailing the group. It's the easiest way of managing her hippogryph's feather tail train. It also lets him walk off some of his late night feasting. The saddle strap was let out a notch.
The little knight has her warmhammer balanced across the saddle as she looks around. "How far we going, what are we look for Farland?" She's keeping an eye out for more invisible stalkers - as futile as that is.
Skielstregar raises a brow at Pothy already raring for more food, but he ignores it to fill up on the feast as best he can for the long journey ahead. As he spills out into the real world with the others, he adjusts his equipment and walks with gleaming halberd in hand like a hiking stick. "... at leassst it's not a sssewer," he rumbles, taking point to be a wall for the others.
Dirk took advantage of the mansion's magic to whip up a pot of black coffee, and guzzles the whole thing down in a shockingly short period of time. After splashing some ice water on his face, he buckles on his armor, straightens his tricorne, and finger-combs his beard. At least he's somewhat more presentable (and slightly sober) now. He ventures out into the Felwood with the others, thunderbelcher cocked, locked, and ready to rock.
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "Okay, everyone! Perception checks." GAME: Skielstregar rolls perception: (4)+13: 17 GAME: Dirk rolls perception: (5)+12: 17 GAME: Paenitia rolls perception: (20)+8: 28 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Perception: (1)+4: 5 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Vaera rolls perception: (14)+12: 26
Vaera finishes her meal, stretches, and goes over her gear, triple checking her equipment in some vain hope of preventing any future breakages when she least expects it. At least it seems alright, and the red makari puts on her coat, and waits at the exit for the others. "Yes, if something tries to kill you hear, it is much less likely to smell horrible. It is the small boons, yes?" Vaera chuckles.
Good news: You're all very sharp. WEll, except for Ranvestongue, who's probably distracted by Pothy the whole time. He found some berries, you see, and they're not exactly 'good for him'.
They're fermented, after all.
In any event, the passage into the Felwood is ... not fun. You feel a chill almost immediately as you pass into the borders of the cursed wood. Hair stands on edge. Mist roils at one's feet. One gets the sense of great violence wrought over every step taken. A child in the bones.
It's darker here. Darker than it should be.
Cor'lana pauses for a moment as she looks around at the darkened woods, her expression twisting into something caught between curiosity and dread. "We need to be careful," she says.
"We need to get wasted!" Pothy crows in a young man's voice, followed by a belch. This earns him a sharp 'shh' from Cor'lana.
"I can't believe you got drunk from those berries. I didn't even /know/ you could get drunk," Cor'lana mutters as she clings close to her adventuring allies.
Skielstregar pinches the bridge of his snout. Great. Two drunken folk while waltzing through the dangerous forest. "Warrior Pothy, keep it down," he hisses quietly back to him as his massive steps lead them deeper into the woods.
His throat bobs. Grip tightens on his weapon. The halberd gleams a little brighter in solidarity. Scaled hand makes a warding gesture before holding onto his holy symbol as every step feels /wrong/.
As it grows darker, the Red Knight retrieves a pair of goggles and snaps them on. Yes, she's wearing a disguise on top of her mask. The goggles have a large, fake nose and swirly eyes on the lens, lens which pop out on springs. So attired, the Paladina of Tarien glances about, peering into the shadows.
Her Ivory Steed, also peers into shadows. Different shadows. Ramirez is not drunk, no.
Paenitia adjusts her grip on her warhammer, "So what the weapons we should be using today? Cold Iron? Silver or Adamantine"
It's not even close to night, of course.
... but that's how dark its getting. Farlan is concerned. Very.
He takes a step forward and then stops, "We're getting closer. Can any of you detect magic? Tell me what you see? It's not that I can't. I want an extra set of eyes."
"I can't." Paenitia laughs, shaking her head, "I am only so rich. I can not buy the wondrous things to make up for being the Knight in Shining Armour that does not do the magic tricks."
Cor'lana steps forward. "I can," she announces, and she begins to recite the incantation and weave the magic. Pothy, meanwhile, wobbles on her shoulder woozily, trying to keep upright.
GAME: Ravenstongue casts Detect Magic. Caster Level: 10 DC: 16 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Spellcraft: (11)+14: 25
Lyme follows quietly, having been as unobtrusive as he can be lately.
Vaera is able to keep pace and keep an eye out for any oddities, which are many in the strange forest, but non openly hostile yet. Still, her weapon is at the ready, and her attention is solely on making sure nothing snuck up on them.
"Different weapons for different foes. Cold iron is a safe bet, though." She chuffs,waiting for whatever information the others could glean.
Cor'lana's eyes widen as she looks around, her violet eyes glowing as she examines the area with the aid of her spell. "The magic here... Something is /wrong/," she says. "It's... There's too much energy here. Like it's all about to spill over. The wrong spell could make everything go haywire. Everyone, if you've got anything even vaguely magical, be careful."
