Hand of Ardtan
Log Info
- Title: Hand of Ardtan
- Emitter: Aftershock
- Characters: Nels, Asmli, Cryosanthia, Zapolklnex
- Place: The collection Caravan of Saint Ardtan
- Time: Monday, February 10, 2020, 12:41 PM
- Summary: Nels, Asmli, Cryosanthia, Zapolklnex are hired as guards for a caravan from the Dwarven Kingdom to Alexandria, stopping at remote monastaries along the way. The journey is rushed, but uneventful until one monastery where the delay seems unusually long. As the caravan starts rolling, monks chase after, claiming the 'missionaries' have murdered their brethern and stolen an artifact. The adventurers demand the caravan stop and attempt to sort things out, diplomatically. As it seems to be resolving, the monks suddenly attack, killing Nels' dog, several horses, and the expedition leaders. The adventurers manage to defeat these monks, but when they investigate the caravan storing the holy relics, a Demon Spider emerges and runs off with them. They give chase, managaing to catch up with as it returns to a strange, purple robed woman, who disappears. Oddly, leaving the box behind. A comedy of errors ensues, as several people try to pick up the box, only to fall unconscious when they touch it. Finally it is wrapped in burlap and the caravan ignominiously returns. Just to be extra sure, Cryo tries opening the box a second time, succeeding in knocking herself cold again.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Appearing, in Order -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Nels 3'7" 42 Lb Goblin Male Tall, for a goblin, and athletic. Close-cut black hair. Asmli 4'2" 178 Lb Storm Dwarf Male Blonde khazad with a dwarven urgrosh. Cryosanthia 6'7" 245 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, lithe white lizardgirl with tattoos. Zapolklnex 4'5" 115 Lb Shadow Elf Male A darkly dressed traveling Mul'niessa man -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
It's a simple mission. You're to guard a carravan from point a to point b. The main difference this time is that you had to travel all the way to the dwarven kingdom for this trip via airship; but that you're traveling back to Alexandria on the ground. Why? Because this particular mission is to collect several items along the way and the airship doesn't make stops at remote moutanious monestary retreats. Which is where you currently are.
So far, you haven't even caught sight of whatever it is that the carravan is transporting. You know its in a lockbox in the middle carriage, and that the item has been taken out at every stop and taken into each monestary for some sort of brief interlude and then ushered back into its specifically guarded carriage.
The dwarves that are with you as riders either don't know what you're carrying... or aren't telling. However this is the longest that you've had to wait thus far at a monestary. Giving you time to get to know one another or just... wait patiently for the object to make its way back out again.
Nels sits calmly astride his ... it's either a feral dog or a wolf of some sort, it's kind of hard to tell. But he's on it in an actual saddle, and calmly looking over a goblin-sized thunderbelcher, making sure there's no bits falling off and nothing on fire. That sort of thing happens all the time. "Sure is taking them a while," he remarks wearily.
For his part, Asmli's been pretty easy about the whole thing. He's never been out to the dwarven kingdoms, as his particular branch hails from the Redridge, and this seems easy enough. As for what they're transporting, they've got their reasons. Some curiosity? Sure, but not enough to ask.
So instead he chats up the khazad riding with them on other topics, such as ghost pepper vodka, what's around them, and whether they should nail down every corner of Ea against the gobber gathering at Merkabah.
When Nels pipes up, he shrugs. "Maybe they got treated to an extra round."
A white-scaled sith makar has kept to herself most of the trip, partly because she has been making strange noises whenever she can be alone. Very hard to interpret noises, best described as reptilian vocalizations. In body, she is tall and lithe, with an elegant bearing and graceful movements. Her armour, is white leather, matching her scales, although it is roughly made and has taken a lot of beatings, evidenced by many primitive repairs. There is traces of ash, in the folds and the seams. She has pleasant expressions when she needs, smiling, but for the most part has kept her motions minimal, she's either conservative in demeanor or has a lot on her mind.
She stands in the group, arms crossed, and nods. "Yes... Are we supposed to go check if they take too long? Did anything seem different this time when we arrived? That's true too. I could go for an extra round."
Zapolklnex will ride on one of the carts if he possibly can, not having the mobility that some of the longer-legged species can. Hood covering his head, arms in his sleeves, little to see but his dark robe. "IS it out of the question they are taking something against the will of those inside?"
As if your words summoned them the pair of dwarves who've carried the box inside the monastary each time come hurrying back out of this particular monastary quick as you like and put the box back into the cart. Nobody comes running out the monestary after them, but the dwarves look particularly grumpy and quickly motion for the rest of the caravan to be on its way. The caravan does so, and the squat sturdy dwarven carrages make their way down the mountain at a steady if fairly slow pace which you've all become acustomed to at this point.
Nels grumbles to Asmli and says, "Not like -we- get an extra round." At Cryoanthia's comment, he looks to our dwarves that are with us as riders, and asks, "Hey, should we check on them? This is Ea, you -know- demons come out of the woodwork here all the time." But then the monastery guys are rushing back, and we're off again. "Took you long enough," he complains. "Did you forget about us out here?"
GAME: Nels rolls perception: (1)+7: 8 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls perception: (19)+0: 19 GAME: Asmli rolls perception: (5)+3: 8 GAME: Zapolklnex rolls perception: (15)+5: 20
"grunt grunt beard grr" Asmli mutters to himself, but the signal to move out is clear. He switches languages at Nels' comment, letting out a bark of good-natured laughter. 'We'll be getting ours later, mate. Don't think drinking is what they're doing.' As he speaks and they move out, he scans the area around them. <unknown>
Cryo has her doubts. She's terrible with non-sith expressions but something seemed off, although not enough to make waves. She's been hired to guard, so she'll guard, and moves to her position on the wagon. Passing by Nels she automatically raises her hand to pet his riding wolf, then stops herself. Best not to disturb another's animal. Still struck by curiosity, she keeps looking back at the monastary as they roll away, while she checks the trail ahead for ambushes.
Cryosanthia and Zapolklnex notice a group of monks headed towards the caravan as fast as they can run. They're nearly as fast as the caravan so they're not gaining, and they don't look happy.
Zapolklnex lifts his hood as the dwarves approach, and jumps off of the cart. "Stop!" he bellows, a hand appearing out from his sleeve to point back toward the monastery. "Monks approach."
Suprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, the cart does not stop when Zapolklnex jumps off of it. It keeps right on trucking along. In fact the whole caravan keeps moving, ignoring the words of your companion as he points out that monks are trailing somewhat behind your carravan. The wagons are moving at a fair clip, fast enough that the monks aren't catching up with you, but the monks aren't being left behind just yet either. They stay just in vague veiwing range. "Were tol' to keep movin'." Mutters one of the dwarves to Zapolklnex as a sort of apology.
Nels is always, always, /this/ close to having a girl pet his wolf, and then something happens and she doesn't. The life of a single goblin. He sighs, then huhs as Zap calls for everyone to stop. "I knew it," he says. "Our guys screwed something up, and now they're mad at us..." He looks balefully at our dwarven associates. But since we're moving on ... well, he can ride faster than a cart, so he offers, "You want I should go back and see what they want?"
"I'll see what they want." Cryosanthia says, jumping off her cart and waiting for the last wagon. She'll jump back on it before the caravan leaves her behind. These pursuing monks don't seem to be catching up, but... maybe they're in range? She wriggles her fingers, making an arcane gesture, one of her tattoos glow. She points at their pursuers, "Hey, can you hear me?"
GAME: Cryosanthia casts Message. Caster Level: 1 DC: 13
Zapolklnex dusts himself off, and starts jogging, seeing if he can catch one of the ponies that was assigned to him, to try to climb onto it. Grabbing it and pulling himself on, he reaches to free the pony from the cart in front, and turns to ride toward the Monks, waving his hand to them. "Do you need assistance?" he will just yell out.
Asmli is torn, judging by the way he looks back and forth between the monks and the caravan. This is his people ... but something isn't right. "axe grunt grr grr hrump beard ugh grr ugh hrump hrump" he calls down to the other khazad guards, watching his companions depart the wagon to talk to the monks. He stays put for now, but eyes the cart with the box suspiciously. <unknown>
The monks stall in place at the sudden sound of Cryosanthia's words which they are clearly not expecting. "Yes?" One of them replies, looking around curiously and then Zapolklnex is riding backwards to join the monks and they urgenly start talking to the Mul'niessa. The range is such that the only people who really hear the conversation are Zapolklnex and Cryosanthia who is using message to communicate. In a few words it is explained that a group of monks at the monanstery were found dead and the dwarves are the suspects of that crime since the monks were fine beforehand.
Asmli gets a shrug in response to his words and a side-eye from one of the dwarves who went into the monastery, but that's it. Though you've certainly gotten the dwarves attention now. Most of them are eyeing the back of the carravan where the monks are and you all respectively with curiosity.
Zapolklnex stops his pony near them. "I, and a few with me, are adventurers from Alexandria. We were hired to guard this caravan. We are not aware of the contents, nor are the people running the caravan telling us anything. May I ask for the evidence you have, that they are responsible? I would not accept payment for guarding murderers."
Seeing the discussion in progress, Asmli seems content to wait from his position on the caravan, as the possibility of the contents of that box being dangerous is real enough, and his charm not real enough, for him to try talking to the monks.
Nels is not privvy to the conversation with the pursuing dwarves, so will just watch the proceedings unfold with Asmli, and wait to be informed. Though he does mention, "You two guys hustled out of there pretty fast at the end, there. Is something going on?"
"Ah... ah... Yes. The Caravan needs to stop." Cryosanthia turns, standing as tall as she can on the wagon, shouting as loud as she can, trying to get her voice forward to the lead drivers. "THERE IS A SITUATION TO RESOLVE, THE CARAVAN HAS TO STOP."
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls diplomacy: (13)+7: 20
The wagon drivers listen to Cryosantia in spite of their orders. It's clear that they're not so sure about their decision because the wagons slow more than they completely stop right away. They are stopping however. All but the second cart which keeps going stubbornly. "We've orders to keep going no matter what! No stops!" The dwarf driving that carriage glowers back at Cryosanthia and the other drivers shift nervously as the monks begin to slowly catch up.
"What proof do we have? The monks were alive before they came and they leave and now the monks are dead! A pecious artifact was stolen from the room as well! Surely, if they have it it's because the monks tried to stop them from taking it and they killed them and stole the artifact!" The monks pick up their pace seeing that the carravan is slowing now, but they're on foot and thus it will take them a little bit to catch up.
Zapolklnex folds his arms in his sleeves again, the reins of the pony disappearing into the sleeve with his hand, as he turns his pony to ride with the jogging monks. "This troubles me. I will ask the adventurers with me to investigate this, find proof, and see that no further harm is done. I see they are stopping the caravan, which is a good first sign."
Nels peers at Cryosanthia, then back at the dwarves. "I knew it, you guys did something, didn't you?" he asks the dwarves wearily. When the one wagon keeps going after Cryo tells them to halt, he eyes the dwarves in the second cart critically, and says, "You guys took -forever- in this place, you can't tell me that waiting ten minutes for these guys to catch up is a problem now...." But now he's loading his thunderbelcher because it looks like things are getting tense. And tense is so much better when you've got a loaded gun. Goblin logic.
GAME: Cryosanthia casts Snapdragon Fireworks. Caster Level: 1 DC: 14
Cryosanthia can recognize a glower! Also the tone. This is not good. She asked, nicely. The others, her fellow guards and fellow travellers need to be caught up, and at the very worst it'll make everything clearer. Or so she thinks. Inhaling, she gives it her best bellow.
"THE BOSS IS ACCUSED OF MURDER. I'LL NOT BE ACCESSORY TO A CRIME. STOP! I MEAN IT!"
She waves her hand wildly again, a different arcane gesture. Her tattoos glow. A small fiery dragon appears on her fingertip, and zings away, flying in a zig-zag pattern along the caravan, past people and animals but never close. Her little dragon zips into the road ahead of the escaping cart, and explodes in a small, firery ball.
The fireworks go off and the wagon lurches to the side as the horses rear in surprise and the wagon is forcibly pulled to a stop. The driver glares at Nel's and then flashes a rude handsign toward Cryosathia. "We didn't do nothin! We don't have time for this! We've other monasteries to get to and a schedual to keep." He says more but it's largely angry and moot as the monks finally catch up with the rest of you guys. The pack of monks draw closer to the middle wagon, keeping together as a unit and reitterate their case for those that didn't hear it the first time.
"Our brothers were found dead in the inner sanctium. They were alive before these dwarves arrived, and now they're dead and a valuable artifact held in safekeeping at our monestary. We demand that you return at once to the monastery and face these charges."
The dwarf in charge visibly angers and puffs up. "Those monks were dead when we arrived! We don't have time to chit-chat. We're on an important mission that can't be delayed."
"Then at least let us check what you took from the monastery! The finger-bone of the Saint Ardtan is missing from its vault!"
"That's what we came for! We're picking up all the Saint's fingerbones for the sword on the way to Alexandria!" Interupts the dwarf, looking even more ire-filled.
"beard" Asmli mutters, stunned, as the dragon goes flying past to stop in front of the moving caravan. "grr grunt axe" Shock and building anger seeps into his voice, and he looks around at his fellow khazad around him, clearly having no idea what to do! <unknown>
Nels looks quite surprised. "Dead?" And then, "Dead when you arrived? Then why'd you take so long? And why didn't you /tell/ anyone?" As far as our mission, we -were- supposed to collect tnings along the way, and that much is legitimate. He'll tell the monastery, "We -were- authorized to collect certain artifacts, that much is true. As far as the other accusations go, that, we'll need to investigate, of course."
Nels looks quite surprised. "Dead?" And then, "Dead when you arrived? Then why'd you take so long? And why didn't you /tell/ anyone?" As far as our mission, we -were- supposed to collect tnings along the way, and that much is legitimate." He'll tell the monastery, "We -were- authorized to collect certain artifacts, that much is true. As far as the other accusations go, that, we'll need to investigate, of course."
Zapolklnex looks to the others he came with, and rides up toward them to speak quietly. "This sounds like evidence of theft, and possibly murder. We have options. Leave? Retrieve and return the item? Fight off the Monks? I am reluctant to do the third choice, but would consider either of the other two."
Cryosanthia lets the angry words of the driver wash over her, and does her best to ignore them. Really, they need no reply, time can be made up, and resolving this shouldn't take that long. Hopefully. She listens to the full explanation, re-iterated for all, with a sinking feeling. Her tail curls slowly from side to side behind her.
"Well, we have been collecting artifacts. What convinced the other Monasterys, was it conversation alone? Did you bring some seal proving the need for the bones to repair the sword?" She asks the ire-filled Dwarf.
She looks at both groups, the monks and the dwarves, after Zapolklnex outlines options, waving her hands slowly in calming gestures. "There's no need to go to violence, it should be straightforward to resolve with discussion. Does... anyone here have some religious knowledge regarding Saint Ardtan?"
Asmli looks thoroughly torn, and uncertain. "I dunno." He scratches at the short hair on his head, looking around. "Who's Saint Ardtan, anyway, and why would you make a sword with finger bones instead of good steel?"
"We've got a writ here where all the monastaries agreed to give over the fingerbones to be used in the /hilt/ of the sword which was made by the Saint himself for killing evil things." The dwarf in charge of this little mission hops off of his wagon and eases his horses with a few calming words and glares at the monks and the rest of you questioning him. "We were warned that we might be stoped by agents of evil so we were commissioned to stop for /nothing/."
He sighs and looks a little regretful. "Not even a room full of dead monks. It took us a little time to find the fingerbone is all. Now we've got it, and we /must/ be on our way."
The monks looks suspiciously at the dwarf. "And how do we know that /you/ aren't some agent of evil stealing the Saint's fingerbone?" They move in on the dwarf a little bit and then quite suddenly - they attack in unision. One lashes out at Asmli, and one attacks the dwarf who was just explaining the situation while the rest lash out at whatever's closest. One kills a horse with a single bash to the head, another goes after Nel's poor riding animal.
GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20+4: (4)+4: 8 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20+4: (14)+4: 18 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20+4: (15)+4: 19 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20+4: (19)+4: 23 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20+4: (10)+4: 14 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20+4: (17)+4: 21 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d4+1: (3)+1: 4 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d4+1: (4)+1: 5 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d4+1: (4)+1: 5 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d4+1: (4)+1: 5 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20+4: (11)+4: 15 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20+4: (17)+4: 21 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20+4: (18)+4: 22 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20+4: (12)+4: 16 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20+4: (17)+4: 21 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20+4: (8)+4: 12 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20+4: (17)+4: 21 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d4+1: (1)+1: 2 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d4+1: (1)+1: 2 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d4+1: (4)+1: 5 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d4+1: (2)+1: 3 GAME: Nels rolls ride: (8)+11: 19 GAME: Nels rolls 1d20+10: (18)+10: 28 GAME: Nels rolls 1d10: (9): 9
Nels flateyes at Asmli, "Please, magic. Anyhow, you can seal the bones inside a compartment -inside- the sword or something. Or grind them up into powder and mix it /with/ the steel. Or something, that's the point of magic." As far as religiousness, he says, "I pray to Saint Shotgun for guidance every day. But that's about whether we're duly appointed representatives authorized to collect the relics. None of the other monasteries we've been to have complained, so maybe the monks here unlawfully interfered with the collection? It's a mystery...." Quickly resolved as the pursuing monks attack, and he's tumbling to his feet as his riding dog, or possibly wolf, is killed. "You.... you bastards!" he screams, and fires point blank into the monk's face. There is a tremendous kaboom.
GAME: Asmli rolls weapon1-1: (2)+7+-1: 8
And then, before Asmli can respond, the claws come out! And blood flies, a lot of it, and that really hurt! The khazad snarls, "grr grunt ugh grunt axe grr hrmph ugh hrmph beard hrump hrump hrump ugh" He raises his voice and shouts aloud, "Take the Caravan and Go!" Without further ado, he drops the leather harness holding his urgrosh to the ground and brings the axe over in a wide arc as if he intends to chop firewood, but the weapon slips in the blood coating arms and hands and finds no purchase. <khazdul>
GAME: Zapolklnex casts Magic Missile. Caster Level: 3 DC: 15 GAME: Zapolklnex rolls 2d4+2: (6)+2: 8
Zapolklnex looks to the one who dealt the death blow to the mount. As he backs up, definitely backing up, he intones "No quarter," and flings a pair of magical force bolts at the monk.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls weapon2: (3)+4: 7
Cryosanthia was preparing a nice list of questions when the monks suddenly attacked. All her eloquent construction collapses in her mind as she rapily switches mental gears. Fight's On!
"Doggy!" The white-scaled sith cries. She had a chance to pet him, and didn't. Now that dog will never know the cold friendship of a reptilian grasp. She whips out her rapier and lunges at the monk that killed him, "Die you bastard!"
All in all, it would have been a great gesture if she hit, but the point goes wide.
GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20+4: (11)+4: 15 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20+4: (5)+4: 9 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20+4: (19)+4: 23 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20+4: (19)+4: 23 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20+4: (5)+4: 9 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20+4: (9)+4: 13 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20+1: (12)+1: 13 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d4+1: (3)+1: 4 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d4+1: (2)+1: 3
the monks leap into action even as the caravan starts to quickly act to Asmli's words. The middle carrage is stuck. One of the horses is dead... well acutally both are dead now. The monk bashed their heads in quickly and efficiantly. As efficiently as was Nel's dog killed. The rest attack Nels and Asmli personally, doing a bit of damage.
GAME: Nels rolls 1d10+11: (6)+11: 17 GAME: Nels rolls 1d10+1: (4)+1: 5
Nels's hands, it must be said, work like precision instruments, he's gotten quite facile at the process of reloading. He backs up a step after they attack him, just enough to get out of their immediate range, and he pulls a small paper package from his bandolier. Biting the end off and spitting it on the ground, he pours the powder down the barrel of his dragonspitter, then the ball from that paper from the cartidge, then the paper itself, and he tamps the paper down to hold the ball steady as he brings the weapon to his shoulder. BLAM He fires into the demon monk, and down he goes. "Boo Yah!" Which may be something in goblin, who knows?
GAME: Asmli rolls weapon1-2-1: (14)+7+-2+-1: 18 GAME: Asmli rolls weapon1-4-1: (4)+7+-4+-1: 6 GAME: Asmli rolls 1d8+4+2: (5)+4+2: 11
As the blood flows and the attacks continue, Asmli's easy, energetic good humor turns to vicious focus, and he lays into the monk in front of him with every ounce of energy he can muster. The second strike goes awry, but that's only because the first one cleaves the monk's skull in two. "grunt ugh" he grins ferally, turning to take out the next in line. <unknown>
GAME: Zapolklnex casts Burning Hands. Caster Level: 3 DC: 15 GAME: Zapolklnex rolls 3d4: (5): 5 GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20: (11): 11
Zapolklnex is still focusing on the one who knocked out Nels's mount unprovoked. Turning, he steps and waves his hands, this time blasting a cone of fire at him, striking the monk square on, full blast. "No quarter," he repeats.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls weapon2: (20)+4: 24 (THREAT) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls weapon2: (8)+4: 12 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls damage2: aliased to 1D6+2: (6)+2: 8
The sith is en-garde, tail curled, arm tucked in, ready to lash out in a lunge. The one that killed the horses is down, and that one over there... One left! Exploding into a straight line, she stabs, burying her blade.
GAME: Demon Monks rolls 1d20+4: (13)+4: 17
The last remaining monk attacks Cryosanthia, but misses wildly. Meanwhile the carts have made good their getaway... minus the one that has the dead horses and the important object inside it that you're supposed to be protecting. The wagon wobbles.
GAME: Nels rolls 1d20+11: (3)+11: 14 GAME: Nels rolls 1d10+1: (10)+1: 11
Nels's fingers work quickly as the smoke from his dragonspitter slowly dissipates, and he loads another round, tamping it down and shoudering his weapon once again. There's just one left, fighting with Cryosanthia, but Nels is a crack shot and he fires just past her, nailing the demon monk in the inner thigh. That's got to hurt! Blood pours from the wound as the monk slowly falls to the ground, eyes rolling back.
The wagon is wobbling, and on seeing the last one fall, Asmli immediately turns to the wagon to ensure the item's safety. What happens next is that he explodes out the other side, in hot pursuit of a giant spider demon carrying a box!
GAME: Aftershock rolls 2d4+2: (3)+2: 5
Zapoklnex sees the multi-legged menace disappearing, and fires two magic missiles into it.
"Yikes!" Cryo jumps as Nel's shot goes by her, so close! The last monk is down! It's over.
It's not over! Asmli is chasing a giant spider through the woods and down a mountainside. "Shhsss! Spider! Getting away!" The white lizard leaps after, flinging herself down the trail in a flat out run, to catch up with it and Asmli.
The spider moves further ahead with the box. Those at the wagon lose sight of it, but not of their allies who chase it.
Nels is reloading and looking around for ... hey, where'd the dwarf and lizard go? He runs after them, and the shouting and he's reloading as he runs, not spilling much powder, which is good, there's a shortage on! His boots pound the turf as he looks around frantically, finally spotting it. "There!"
Bleeding like he is from multiple claw wounds, Asmli is leaving a trail for the rest to follow, but he doesn't seem to notice or care, dashing down the mountainside after it as fast as his stubby legs will carry him.
GAME: You spend ONE point of PANACHE. (2 remaining) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d6: (4): 4 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls acrobatics+4: (2)+3+4: 9 GAME: Demon Spider rolls 1d20+3: (1)+3: 4 (EPIC FAIL)
Cryosanthia charges after the spider, clawed feet pounding the ground as she attempts to catch it. Trees whip by. It's not the jungle, but... she attempts to use them like the trees back home, grabbing for a branch, swinging, pushing off a trunk.
It's a nice attempt but it doesn't work out, the branch snaps, she slips on some leaves when she lands. She doesn't fall behind, but some epic maneuver that captures the spider eludes her.
It misses biting her for her troubles too.
The demon evades you neatly, disappearing into the foliage of the trees until you pop into a clearing. There in the clearing is a woman, she's accepting the box from the bright purple-black spider and looks up at you with surprise. "Seems they weren't a distraction enough. But this'll do." With that the woman vanishes, taking her spider with her for good measure. Oddly enough however as you draw closer to where she was, you find that the box is laying on the ground. Untouched and unopened.
Cryosanthia rushes into the clearing, pulling up short when she sees the woman with the spider. Who then vanish. Who leave a box. She huffs a hard exhale, blinks, then stalks over to the box. She waves her rapier about in the air in case there is something invisible. There isn't. She taps the box, in case that does something. It doesn't. Finally she says, "I'm so confused, does anyone have any idea what's going on?"
She crouches to open the box, and immediately falls over.
Asmli dashes up with the others, breathing heavily, and stops short when the woman disappears. His urgrosh remains in one hand, and he looks at the box left untouched - but he's too slow, and the lizard crumples. "No idea," he tells Nels. "We should get back to the wagon and the others, in case there was something else."
GAME: Asmli rolls heal: (7)+1: 8
She might be dead.
Nels runs up to where the spider vanished, but there's nothing here except Cryosanthia on the ground. "Uh, guys?" he calls, nudging her with his boot.
GAME: Nels rolls heal: (17)+1: 18
On second thought, she might merely be unconsious.
Nels looks at Cryo on the ground and Asmli and says, "I dunno what happened. Just as I ran up, she touched the box and fell over. Maybe we ought to run and get one of the dwarfs to come pick it up, they were OK with it..."
It is a long way back to consciousness. A sensation of dragging a wet leather bucket out of a well of treacle. A cloud on her mind that feels more like sludge. Her body aches. Cryosanthia becomes conscious again, feeling as if she's been asleep for 100 years and rested none of them. "Ugh."
"What... uhh..."
She lets herself collapse back, mumbling, "It's... I can... maybe... needs an alignment... monk... be lawful. Gnh."
Asmli folds his arms and smirks at Nels. "What do I look like to you, so much horse manure? It's Asmli of Clan Stonesmasher, thank you, and if that's it, then I'll just be taking it back to the others. We've got to catch up with them!
He's about to go pick up the box, without attempting to open it, when Cryosanthia stirs. "Look, we'd best just get back with this, in case it's the wrong box. I'll carry it."
Nels nods to Asmli about carrying it. He's a dwarf, it could work. And if not ... well, maybe they could still run after the others. "Go for it," he says, watching thoughtfully.
"Oh, I'm the Distraction!" Cryosanthia says suddenly, still lying flat on her back, staring at the sky.
It turns out that Asmli can't carry the box either. Just one touch of his skin to that wood and he's waking up like there was a hundred year old headache working in the back of his mind and the worse case of cotton mouth. You bring the dwarves back after much effort, but none of them can touch it either, and after the first one of them falls over unconsious from trying they're not willing to line up for the honor. Instead they wrap it up with burlap and throw it in the second carriage, hitch a new team made mostly of the horses you declined and set off on the rest of their trip which is thankfully uneventful. Needless to say though, they're not particularly pleased.
Asmli has no interest in doing anything of the kind, on awaking, and mutters something in khazdul about magic junk and why did they even get involved. Between that and the bloody clawmarks, he's not feeling especially well at all, and while he toughs it out and completes the journey, he's ... quiet.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls use magic device: (17)+7: 24
Cryosanthis is feeling miserable. Physically, from falling unconscious, and then spiritually, from misjudging the situation. She stays out of the way, but can't stop wondering just how badly everything was messed up. Are the fingerbones still in the box? Why can't anyone open the box. The dwarves don't want her to touch it, but her misplaced confidence kicks in. She shouldn't be defeated by a box. Carefully, she wrangles another chance to open, and tries, carefully holding her fingers and concentrating. She has a good feeling. She touches it.
She wakes up later, feeling worse.
Dramatis Personae
Nels
This goblin is tall, for a goblin, that is to say about the same as a six-year-old human: three-foot seven. He's typically wiry, as are most goblins, belying the fact that he's actually stronger than many humans. He's got a fairly typical face, though he's only got one wart. And since it's on his nose, it doesn't keep him from shaving. His skin is light greenish brown, and his hair is dark, cut closer than most goblins. The closecut hair emphasizes his pointed ears.
He wears a heavy leather coat, dyed a tan color, with dark leather reinforcement and metal plates riveted on. The coat comes to his knees, though the difference between a waist-length and knee-length on a goblin is small enough as it is. Over this coat is a stout leather belt, with a separate length passing over his right shoulder. Small leather boxes are affixed to the belt and shoulder-strap. His pants are heavy brown wool, with reinforced knees, and he wears black leather boots.
Zapolklnex
A mul'niessa is not large, but this one carries presence. Despite being a mere 4'5", he has the ability to draw attention in any room he is in. Love him or hate him, people look.
Fortunately he doesn't look terrible either. His body is fit and trim, born of much travel and exploration, both above and underground. His silver hair is kept close cropped, quite practically, with his long, dark ears sticking far above the fuzz. His face is lean, jaw square, nose peaked, white eyes almost glowing in contrast with his dark skin.
He dresses as a traveling man, with black robes covering virtually his entire body, including a hood often over his head.
Asmli
This khazad-mornir is a muscly ball of fire, snarl, and good humor. His head is shaven across sides and back, leaving a loose topper of straight blonde hair atop his head to do as it will. The beard, however, is much more carefully trimmed and cared for, being braided into several smaller braids and with each held in place with multiple metal cuffs and beads. These hang down nearly to his waist, over the breastplate and leathers that make up what is clearly the outfit of a khazad warrior without much coin to spare. Strong and craggy features of the khazad are covered with skin that runs on the fair side for a khazad, and hold sharp, twinkling brown eyes as well. Leather boots with hard soles cover his feet. Over his back, on a leather harness, is slung a dwarven urgrosh, one of the legendary khazad double weapons.
Cryosanthia
Cryosanthia is a tall, lithe lizardgirl with flamboyant mannerisms and a flashy style. Her scales are a bright, snow white, complimented by her frills and keratin-scale 'hair' which are the pale blue found in glacial ice. This gleaming tapestry is marred by dark tattoos gouged in her hide, green-black in colouration, which at times have a dark glow. Her snout is long and tapers elegantly. Her legs and tail are likewise graceful, despite being a significant portion of her size and mass. She seems light on her talons and energetic, head glancing quick from side to side. Her eyes are bright and like her frills, the palest of blues with a dramatic slit pupil.
Cryosanthia's clothes are a simple kit of kilted leather armour in white. It is close fitting enough to seem a part of her, but it lacks the lustre of her scales having instead a dull finish. She has sandals that leave her talons free, as well as a hat that is hanging to the back as often as it is on her head. A long blue feather is tucked into the woven band. Finally, she wears a cloak, likewise fashioned from white leather but with a satin interior that matches her eyes. It gleams when the light catches it right. Belted to her hip she has a rapier, a couple of pouches, and a tiny bag on a thong around her long neck.