PrP: Adventure, Inc. - Part 1
The job was simple enough, posted on the wall of the Guild of Explorers. A well to do merchant by the name of Tyson Stepleton recently purchased an old manor along with a 50 acre parcel of prime, if overgrown, farmland. A byproduct of the five years lost to the Mist and a story too inconsequential for the DM to think up anything at the moment. But the fact remains that the carpenters and cleaners Stepleton hired to renovate refused to go back inside after claiming that the house was haunted. So, you five get the call for the sum of 100 gold and rights to any old junk that happens to be left in the house. Sadly, no awesome steampunk hearse or proton packs for the likes of you.
It's two days of travel to get to the manor, and you arrive just an hour or two before dusk, key to the gates on hand. The manor itself is a three story dwelling, grand and worthy of belonging to a minor noble before time and neglect took it's toll. Two acres of the land are devoted to the lawn and private yard, surrounded by an 8 foot stone wall. WHAT DO YOU DO?
Spike is quick to declare her thoughts on the matter. As they're never very complicated thoughts, it's probably best just to get them out of the way,"I say we charge the front gate. The house will clearly surrender, and then we can tell the ghosties that they need to attend a seminar on civic duty and the economic ramifications of a collapsing housing market due to abandon and disrepair."
Selia sighs mildly to herself, stretching the kinks of the trip out of her system. "'aunted manson, an' we arrive jus' 'fore dusk. Think we'd na ta time things better, wouldn't ya? Anyways, might try jus' knockin' first. Might be friendly sorta ghosts."
Mogrinaar stands at the entrance to the yard and manor along with the others. He grunts a bit after having travelled the two days here. "Well we are here so we might as well do what we came to do." he pulls out his falchion and takes a look at it. After spike speaks he raises a brow and grins, "I like the way you think."
Spike eyes Mogrinaar. Crap. Someone agreed with her. This has never happened before. Time to change tactics,"I advocate the cautious approach!"
Anurak isn't especially pleased about having to take this job. After all, he'd much rather see those fifty acres
overgrown and unclaimed, rather than becoming the prize of a wealthy human. Still, if the rumors of a haunting are true, then he a duty to nature to purge any undead plaguing the region. "I doubt that knocking will work," contributes the elf, his tone perpetually muted. "Still, caution would be wise, indeed." Accompanying the half-naked druid is his bestial companion, a lion named Rotuk.
"I really hope it isn't ghosts," Karl murmurs, regarding the manor with a frown, "I really don't have anything to affect ghosts. Maybe they're goblins waving sheets. I could deal with that." He looks to the others--sighs--and then he just heads up towards the front door to try and open it. "C'mon, all. Let's just get this over with and get some free gold, eh?"
Mogrinaar grins, "Not to mention any loot me might find bwaha!" he looks at Spike, "Whats the matter sister..? No need to go soft on me haha!" he begins marching towards the front door looking around for trouble as he does. As he approaches he clears his throat and hocks a loogie into an overgrown bush.
Selia hehs, and follows after Karl. "Ain't 'xactly free, givin as 'ave ta work fer it. But aye, bes' git it over wit."
Spike knocks. With her forehead. Thwapthwapthwap.
The front lawn is just as overgrown and untended, minus a small patch of landscaped hedges that skirt the outside perimeter of the house, halfway abandoned. Possibly due to the fact that the hedge clippers are buried halfway into the post of the front porch, dried blood on them. The front door opens with all the long and omnious creaking appropriate to a haunted house and the foyer opens up into a grand hall, beckoning you inside.
Karl looks pained. "Spike," he observes, "One normally knocks with their /hand/. I..." Then the door's creaking slowly upwards, and he pauses. A glance to the hedge shears. A glance to the door. "...you go first."
Mogrinaar chuckles at Spike and notes, "I tell ya this one is a riot!" The Oruch takes a look inside before stepping into the grand hall. "No time like the present. Get your game faces on....its time to get paid."
Anurak takes in a deep breath as he passes through the front lawn, perhaps embracing this last moment of untamed flora before
venturing inside. When the front door yields to Spike's brow, however, the druid's focus is entirely with the taks at hand. He grips his staff a bit more securely on getting his first glimpse of the estate's interior.
"If there are undead," begins the elf, "we have no reason to believe they'll be visible. Then again, it may be something else
entirely. We work from the rumors of men likely unfamiliar with the subject."
Selia says, "....ya na, usually at dis point I'd point out da benifits o' burning da place down and siftin thru da ashes, but in dis case reckon da boss would na be too pleased wit dat."
Spike doesn't have to be told twice. Look! A door! It's open! To Karl, she complains,"Well it worked, didn't it? Besides, it might not be ghosts. It might just be, like, a bunch of magical furniture and stuff." She walks blithely through the door.
"A bunch of magical furniture? Let me guess, they just want us to be their guests..." Karl unslings his rifle, making sure it's loaded before he steps along after Spike slowly and carefully, glancing back over his shoulder, "Anurak, that cat've yours smell anything?"
Sadly, Spike's hopes are quickly shattered as the walls of the foyer begin to bleed as soon as somebody steps inside. The blood runs downwards from cracks in the plaster, spelling "GET OUT" in long flowing letters as it flows down to the floor.
Anurak pages: Does Rotuk act like he smells something funny? :)
You paged Anurak with 'A little bit. Seems somewhat apprenhensive. Have him make a will save.'
GAME: Anurak rolls 1d20+3: (4)+3: 7
From afar, Anurak rubs his forehead.
You paged Anurak with 'Rotuk is skeert. Like freaking out and bolts off the property until you go and fetch him. (Insert Cowardly Lion joke here). Pose as appropriate.'
Selia glances sidelong at Anurak and the lion. usually the halfer is quite fond of felines, but any carnivore larger then yourself should be treated with a great deal of caution. Speaking of caution, the bloody writeing is eyed a long moment before Selia address the room in general. "Oy! Cut dat out! Da burning thing still be an option!"
"Rotuk is not 'my' lion," Anurak corrects Karl. As he turns to see whether said beast seems to be sniffing anything odd ...
well, the lion isn't there. He's bounding out of the house, in fact, and back toward the beginning of the path. Grimly, the druid notes, "I'd say he's scented something uninviting, yes."
Rather than forcing his companion to come back in, the elf yells to Rotuk, "Guard!" He points at the beginning of the path to
the mansion, and then turns to look at the bloody message. That explains a lot.
Spike looks at the wall with running blood, and like a petulant child, screams at it,"GO AWAY! YOU'RE MEAN! YOU GET OUT!" Yay for stealth.
GAME: Karl rolls Perception: (1)+9: 10 GAME: Anurak rolls Perception: (20)+11: 31 GAME: Mogrinaar rolls perception: (6)+1: 7 GAME: Selia rolls perception: (5)+8: 13
"So," Karl says slowly, taking a step back from the bloodied letters, "I'm thinking we say the undead burned the place down, yeah?"
GAME: Spike rolls perception: (17)+0: 17
Anurak seems to pick up on something. It's first hinted at when he glances rapidly about. Slowly, the focus of his eyes ascends
toward the ceiling, which he indicates with the business end of his staff. "I believe we may have company," notes the druid.
High above, what he's pointing at is plain to see. A sprinkling of dust is floating downward.
Mogrinaar grunts, "Yay we are fighting the scary dust....or maybe it be the haunted termites of doom....what a joke." he sneers.
A glance up--and Karl's eyes narrow. "...an illusionist, maybe," he murmurs, bringing his rifle upwards and looking to the ceiling, "Alright. Let's not let some... bloody words scare us off. Let's go see what we're dealing with here."
Selia eyes the dust and waits, not fully worried. All this could eaisly be done by a wizard with too much freetime..... then again, a wizard with too much freetime can be pretty darn scary....
Spike wrinkles her nose and starts spinning her spear, a hum escaping the air as she limbers up,"Whatever it is, maybe we will finish in time for the evening polish. Because this house is downright bratty."
"Dust paired with movement," clarifies Anurak, sparing a glance toward Mogrinaar. "I saw something flit about, too fast for me
to focus upon." He offers a nod then to Karl, taking up his staff. "Indeed. We need to find our what's happening here, lest whatever it is poison the surrounding land in time."
Selia ahs. "Least be solid 'nuff ta disturb da dust...."
A preliminary check of the first floor, at least the rooms connected to the main hall give you the usual suspects. An old library, the kitchen, dining room, a den, and so on. You head up the staircase that dominates the main hall, complete with rotting moth-eaten carpet and find yourselves on the first floor. Bedrooms, linen closet, wash room. All dusty, all old, all busted. But nothing jumps out at you. At least until you get to get to the end of the hallway. The trap door to the attic has sprinkles of dust raining down and scratching noises. DUN DUN DUN.
Karl looks up at the door. "...maybe it's a cat," he suggests hopefully.
Selia says, "Cat dat scared da lion back out? Ain't no cat I wanna meet."
Selia says, "Excuse me, 'encouraged da lion ta take a rear defensive position'."
Mogrinaar snorts, "Eh...who wants to go topside and take a look?"
Anurak replies to Karl, "You live in a remarkably optimistic world." Was that sarcasm from the stoic elf? Surely not. He's ill at
ease without Rotuk by his side, but even so, the druid approaches the trap door. It's given a jab with the end of his staff, at which point he waits for a reply.
Rats. Hundreds of them. As soon as Anurak pokes the trapdoor, the intensity of the scratching grows almost exponentially and the trapdoor wobbles, then opens a crack before momentum of the mass bursts the door open, and the rodents pour of the hole in the ceiling, falling on the poor druid and anybody that happens to be standing nearby.
Selia rolls initiative: Roll: 6 + Bonus: 5 = Total: 11
Karl rolls initiative: Roll: 4 + Bonus: 5 = Total: 9
Anurak rolls initiative: Roll: 8 + Bonus: 3 = Total: 11
You roll initiative for RATS: Roll: 9 + Bonus: +6 = Total: 15
Mogrinaar rolls initiative: Roll: 17 + Bonus: 1 = Total: 18
Spike rolls initiative: Roll: 18 + Bonus: 3 = Total: 21
Spike beams brightly as the rats come pouring out,"Yaaaaaaaaaay! Furry friends!" That golem doesn't have her head screwed on straight.
Mogrinaar shakes his head. "Damn!" he states with flashbacks of the crabs incident.
Selia sighs, trying to get back out of the way. ".....here kitty kitty kitty...."
GAME: Marek rolls 1d6: (6): 6 GAME: Marek damaged Anurak for 6 points. 16 remaining. GAME: Marek damaged Karl for 6 points. 29 remaining.
Mogrinaar takes a few tactical steps backwards prepping his falchion in his hands. "Anyone got a torch or something to burn these things...." he seems to be waiting for some kind of cue.
Even more crazed rodents pour of the hole as dozens begin to climb over the elven druid, filling up the entire hallway. More swarm over the nearest available creature, which happens to be Karl. The pair are slowly being eaten alive by the hundreds of carnivorous pests.
GAME: Selia rolls 1d20+10: (2)+10: 12 GAME: Selia rolls 1d4+1: (2)+1: 3
Selia draws her blade and slashes at the swarm, chopping a few furry bodies, but having little impact on the overall numbers. "Dry dusty 'ouse ain't good wit burning rats! Splat 'em!"
GAME: Anurak rolls 1d20+7: (15)+7: 22 GAME: Anurak rolls 3d6: (7): 7 GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+5: (5)+5: 10 GAME: Spike rolls perception: (11)+0: 11 GAME: Anurak rolls Perception: (18)+11: 29 GAME: Selia rolls perception: (7)+8: 15 GAME: Karl rolls Perception: (10)+9: 19 GAME: Mogrinaar rolls perception: (4)+1: 5
In an instant, Anurak finds himself covered in ravenous vermin. The creatures seek out those portions of flesh not covered by his
sparse armor and begin to gnaw away, feasting upon his flesh. He manages to work a bit of magic through the agony. The air directly in front of him is suddenly set ablaze, a blossoming flame coalescing into a sphere. He need not coax it into moving yet, for the little beasts are all around and catch fire right away. Much to his relief, those on his body suffer from a panic attack.
You roll initiative for GHOST: Roll: 5 + Bonus: +3 = Total: 8
As the rats tumble out of the trapdoor, Karl lets out a sharp swear, "Gunahkar's galloping gonorrea--" One of the rats bites his cheek, and he pulls it off his shoulder and throws it into the mass--others biting his legs, he reaches up to grab hold of the trap door's folding ladder, "--these aren't real rats! It's a gods-be-damned summoning!" He scrambles through the horde of rats, pulling himself up the ladder and peering up into the attic.
GAME: Spike rolls melee-1: (7)+7+-1: 13
Spike is flailing around with that great giant spear of hers when a rat skips up onto her shoulder. Completely distracting her. She looks at the rat,"Yes. I understand. I understand. I shall call you Cheeser. We shall be a great force for justice, and win."
GAME: Mogrinaar rolls 1d20+8: (7)+8: 15
Spike pages: I'm going to go screw with my router. My ac is 23, I'm using a longspear, 1d8+9 on a power attack, or +6 on a non. Dr2. That's if you need to autobot me. Consider me MIA until I get this resolved.
GAME: Mogrinaar rolls 2d4+9: (6)+9: 15
Mogrinaar swings his Falchion around mightily and severs the rats that come into his blades path in two. Little heads bounce here and there, tiny squeeks can be heard. Good thing these aren't the space hamster types. "Disgusting creatures barely worth tarnishing my blade."
GAME: Selia rolls perception: (14)+8: 22
You paged Selia with 'You can hear some whispering over in the corner of the attic, about 15-20ft away.'
Selia mutters something about cats under her braeth and scurries foreward, barely slowing when she hits the attic ladder and goes from horizontal to vertical movement.
GAME: Marek rolls 1d6: (3): 3 GAME: Karl rolls Perception: (16)+9: 25
Anurak, having seen his use of the sphere, wills it to leap through a nearby window. Hopefully, the wind it encounters during its
descent will blow the thing out. Meanwhile, he sets to the task of stomping out the smaller fires. Success in the task leaves him with burnt moccasins to go with his multitude of rat bites. Ah, what a wonderful day this is going to be.
You paged Karl with 'There is somebody whispering, sounds all spell like 10-15 feet away. You can't pin point them exactly, but it's an open space around there, so maybe like 3 squares to attack.'
From afar, Karl will hurl his net at square -- 3!
GAME: Marek rolls 1d3: (2): 2
You paged Karl with 'No go. :('
GAME: Selia rolls will: (13)+2: 15 GAME: Karl rolls Will: (3)+3: 6
"There's a spellcaster up here... I think he's invisible," Karl murmurs under his breath, reaching down to pull a net from his belt-- carefully hurling it out towards the sound in the attic, but as it spreads out, it hits only floor. Apparently, he judged wrong.
GAME: Marek rolls 1d4: (2): 2 GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+6: (5)+6: 11 GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+6: (15)+6: 21 GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+4: (20)+4: 24 GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+4: (19)+4: 23 GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+4: (3)+4: 7 GAME: Marek rolls 1d4: (1): 1 GAME: Marek rolls 2d4: (4): 4 GAME: Marek damaged Karl for 1 points. 28 remaining. GAME: Marek damaged Selia for 4 points. 25 remaining.
Karl's aim might be off, but he was quite right about a spellcaster. Just after the net lands in a thumph, the air shimmers and two roiling lumps of cancerous flesh with arms and screaming faces tear their way into this world. And then just after that an old gnome in a black cloak steps forward, invisibility fading as his face contorts in anger. It was Old Man Withers all along! "You fools!" he shrieks, "YOu'll burn this place to the ground. YOu'll ruin everything!" And then he barks out a spell, sending a blast of lights out of his hands at Karl and Selia, leaving the two stunned and vulnerable to the hellish claws of the two devils that now attack them, one slicing Karl's arm open and another raking it's claws over the halfling's back.
<OOC> Marek says, "Okay, two lemures pop up after the wizard started casting Summon Monster III last round, this round he blasts Color Spray, Karl and Selia fail. Karl you are blinded/stunned for 2 rounds, then stunned for 1. Selia is stunned for 1 round. And then lemures claw the shit out of you. Top of the round!"
GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+7: (3)+7: 10
SpikeAUTOPILOT stabs at the lemures above her with her spear. FAILS. :(
GAME: Mogrinaar rolls 1d20+8: (11)+8: 19 GAME: Mogrinaar rolls 2d4+9: (4)+9: 13
Mogrinaar watches as this creature appears and he snarls. Moving forward with a determined gait, the huge green Oruch swings around with his blade and slices deep into the creature's hide. There is resistance to his blade, but his strength pushes it through.
Selia sways, slurring something under her breath as she tries to shake off the magical effect.
GAME: Anurak casts Shillelagh.
Anurak hears the ruckus from on high and figures the source of the problem has been found. It's always the damn attic. For a moment,
he whispers in the druidic tongue, coaxing green energy to wreathe his staff. Vines and branches sprout from the weapon as the entire thing seems to come to life. With nature on his side, the druid starts up the ladder, hurrying to assist his comrades.
GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+2: (3)+2: 5 GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+2: (14)+2: 16 GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+2: (13)+2: 15 GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+4: (16)+4: 20 GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+4: (10)+4: 14 GAME: Marek rolls 1d4: (4): 4 GAME: Marek damaged Karl for 4 points. 24 remaining. GAME: Marek rolls 1d4: (2): 2 GAME: Marek damaged Selia for 2 points. 23 remaining.
All hell breaks loose around the attic door (Which doesn't sound as beautiful as cellar door) as spears, falchions, claws, and magical rays fly fast and furious. When all is said and done, Karl and Selia are sporting two new claw marks, and Mog has a few scratches on his armor. "Damn you, adventurers! If it weren't for you and your little druid, I would have gotten away with it!" Old Man Withers monologues.
GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+7: (18)+7: 25 GAME: Marek rolls 1D8+9: (6)+9: 15
SpikeAUTOPILOT totally spears that Lemure that was clawing at Mogrinaar, causing to dissappear in a puff of sparkles. DEMONIC SPARKLES.
You paged Spike with 'Cool. You killed a devil!'
GAME: Mogrinaar rolls climb: (18)+-1: 17 GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+2: (11)+2: 13 GAME: Mogrinaar rolls 1d20+10: (3)+10: 13 GAME: Selia rolls 1d20+10: (7)+10: 17 GAME: Selia rolls 1d4+1+3d6: (2)+1+(12): 15 GAME: Anurak rolls 1d20+7: (3)+7: 10 GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+2: (4)+2: 6 GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+2: (4)+2: 6
Selia shakes herself and takes a deep breath, shrugging off the last of the magic effects. Eyeing the demonic beasty a moment, the halfer waits for it's next swing, stepping nimbly inside the attack and driving her blade into the monster's neck, not quite severing anything truely vital. "Oh do shut up."
GAME: Marek rolls 1d20+13: (9)+13: 22
Anurak, the frustrating little druid of the hour, makes it up to the attic and assesses the situation. Though the wizard may be
the heart of the problem, he first confronts the lemure, fearing that it may finish off his incapacitated allies. A swing of his glowing staff goes astray, failing to strike the misshapen devil.
Old Man Withers might have class levels, but he ain't no fighter by trade. He knows a stacked battle when he sees one, especially when there is a giant orc with a sword taller than he is all up in his grill. But he is a seasoned spellcaster, and knows how to get a quick spell off safely. Snatching up an eyelash and bit of gum arabic from his spell component pouch, he barks out a few words and fades from view. A moment later the sole window to the attack opens and the gnome calls out, "You meddlesome fools! You'll never have the secret treasures of this house!"
GAME: Spike rolls climb-5: (1)+3+-5: -1 GAME: Spike rolls melee-1: (14)+7+-1: 20 GAME: Spike rolls 1d8+9: (7)+9: 16
Spike meanwhile has been getting her spear-fu on. With a happy little roar, she says,"Come Mister Cheeser! FAPPO! Forward, Advance, Pursue, Persevere, Overcome!" One day she'll get a better war cry. Still, her abortive charge towards the Lemure threatening her halfling buddy does yield fruit. Longspear leveled before her, she drives it THROUGH the beasts chest, lifting it up in the air and over her head... and flipping its corpse down behind her, disengaging it with a deft shake of the haft. PLOP. "Time to make living wizard a dead wizard." She bellows,"We are coming to walk all over you, squishy gnome! Run far!"
Selia hurries to the window, peering out a moment in idle hope of something at which to throw something. But, seeing nothing definate, she hurries back towards the ladder down, absently wishing she still had the magic ring to let her take the direct route. "Best git back ta da ground floor, 'fore 'e does wotever 'as planned. Least we na der is a treasure."
Karl finally shakes off the trance that he'd been struck into by the spell--and grimaces as he realizes that he's bleeding. "Taara's tits," he swears, pressing one hand against a bloody clawmark, "Did he get away?"
Mogrinaar growls and shakes his fist in the air. "Kr'Sha'ka'kaaar!" sending oruch curses towards the invisible creature. With a sneer he motions, "Might as well give this place a search before we leave. Might be a clue or two...damn coward."
With the gnomish wizard, obsessed with this house and it's secrets for whatever reason, chased away, you settle back to nurse your wounds and tear this place apart to find out what kind of treasure happened the gnome managed to find here. Enough to come up with an elaborate yet stupid plan of scaring people away from the house. You don't get long to search though, when the roar of Anurak's lion and the barking of a loud dog draw your attention to the front lawn.
You all rush downstairs and look out from the porch to see Torak circling and ready to fight a massive mangy and scarred Great Dane. Onlooking is a tall musclar Aryan-looking man in chainmail with a white tabard, a fiery haired half-elf in purple robes, a bespectacled dwarven woman with a crossbow in dark orange studded leather (complete with skirt), and finally a long crusty-haired elf with bloodshot eyes dressed in rough green and red leather. At the mouth of the gates is a green gypsy wagon, propelled by a steam engine of some sorts. Hastily scrawled over the wagon is "MURDER MACHINE."
The blonde man, apparently the leader of group sneers at you, "This was our gig, chumps. Let's get 'em, gang!" And with that, he draws his sword and readies his shield! Ruh-Ro!
TO BE CONTINUED!