Zeran wasn't in as much pain anymore, mostly not having a piece of pointy metal with a handle sticking in him was doing wonders. "A drinker eh? I'll write that down when we return back to...home I guess." He said in reference to the case of booze, leaving it be despite wanting to drink it down. "Thanks for the assistance lass I appreciate it." He said to Adela before stretching out some and leaning back to take the pressure off his gut. "Bloody hell this hurts." he mutters before chuckling lightly and closing his eyes for a moment. He tapped his fingers off the handle of one of the former Kressle's hand axes and smiled slightly, it was a good quality piece of equipment and much better then his rapier or switch blade. He would decide what to pack for their little trips later though right now he just wanted to rest and hopefully not have to stand up to quickly. "I won't be bed ridden while you lot go out and explore either, I didn't sign up to be stuck in a bed for a week while I let a flesh wound like this heal. I'll join you on our next outing but I will be more careful so I don't make it worse." He said to the group, he didn't like the idea of being stuck in bed while everyone else was working.
Krii after dispating the fallen bandit whom insulted his parents returned back to the camp and began to searh, moving everything and looking for over turned earth for any signs of something hidden or that might have been missed
Posted on 2013-03-13 at 23:09:44.
Edited on 2013-03-14 at 01:31:42 by Nyrodine Ezayo
Kyrie gave a smile as the shovel made contact with Kressle's side. It wasn't a malevolent one, but rather the smile of a person who met up to a challenge. It was a good hit too, and one more good hit later, courtesy of Frodrick's axe, and the sadist collapsed under her own weight, her body refusing to cooperate any more.
"Well, that wasn't so bad." Kyrie noted, before frowning a bit as she noted the dagger still in Zeran's side.
"Hold still," She said to him as she gave a look at the wound.
Assuming DC12 for the diagnostic, 9 roll + 4 skill = 13
After a few moments of inspection, during which time the other bandits were shouted down, she nodded to herself and looked up, "All things considered, you're fairly lucky. Mah'i fell on a rake once. I helped patch that up. You'll probably be rather sore for a few days though."
"Your mother also didn't just exchange sexual innuendo and witty banter with an insane ax wielding bandit woman hell bent on making your insides that of a tawn tawn"
"Fair point." Kyrie chuckled, "That rake didn't last long after. Mah'r burned it in the fireplace."
She fumbled with the bandage roll she pulled out at first, but after steadying her hands (why were they shaking? Adrenaline maybe), she proceeded to take the dagger out and patch the wound up securely.
DC 15 first aid, 5 roll + 4 skill = 9 first round, 13 roll + 4 skill = 17 second round - success
"There you go." Kyrie said, smiling as she stood back up. "I could go for a cup of wine now that you mention it, though."
(now caught up =D yay)
Posted on 2013-03-14 at 02:19:46.
Edited on 2013-03-14 at 02:20:02 by Reralae
Moving it along a little. Kind of ends abruptly, but there's enough to entertain
3 Pharast – Twilight
Thorn Ford Camp; Hex D4
Since the majority of the party seemed to share a common interest in procuring the services of the ex-blacksmith, hoping he would take as quickly to his former trade as the others seemed to suggest, the chartered party lit a fire in the bandits' pit and settled into the camp for the night. True to Luka's prediction, they did not have to wait long for Gavril's return, no more than an hour as the forest dimmed to black, though through the frozen dead branches the sky retained a bright tinge that suggested dusk had not yet fallen.
Frodrick, with his superior vision in complete darkness and careful vigilance, spotted the movement first. A shadow hesitated in the darkness. Frodrick didn't give it time to think on the situation.
“Come on out into the light, lad, we ain't going to kill ye without cause,” the dwarf called into the forest. Everyone else looked to see a bandit man rise from the shadows and step into the area of the fire. He certainly had the standard blacksmith's build, large arms contrasted with underdeveloped legs, though the hard life of the outlaw had evened out his physique somewhat.
The man turned out in fact to be the much expected Gavril. He was dubious of the party's offer at first, though with Luka and Adela already among the party's numbers, he readily sought the opportunity to replace the tools of his trade with those of his former, dumping his sword, bow, and armour into the pile. (If you want to roleplay this encounter up a bit, or otherwise speak to Gavril independantly tonight, just use the tag (Gavril) to indicate in the backpost)
They divided the night into watches, in the event that any of the other bandits—or just as likely out in this wilderness, something bigger and meaner prowling the night—happened to show up. None did, however, and the night passed undisturbed
Pharast 4 – Morning
Thorn Ford Camp; Hex D4
The next morning they hooked two of their horses to the wagon, packed the valuable spoils the camp had to offer, and left the camp behind. They travelled north through the forest directly for Oleg's, using Frodrick's keen wilderness wiles to keep them from getting lost when the road gave way to smaller paths and obscure trails. Suvival DC 15: Take 10 + 7 = 17
The journey passed much the same on the way back from the camp as on the way toward. They ran into nothing large enough to be of note and nobody disturbed their passage. After five hours they passed out of the forest, and within another three they arrived safely back at Oleg's with their new prisoners and spoils in tow.
There were several new additions to the post's population coming from the civilized side of the equation. Namely one Kesten Garess, a dour mercenary guard captain on hire with his three men to take charge of defending the post from further harassment from the wilderness.
The three prisoners already held captive at the post were out of their cell and put to work at the jobs Frodrick had assigned to them, overseen by Oleg and Svetlana. They were, if not necessarily happy with their accomodation, content to perform without too loud of complaint.
(You may recall one Jhod Kavken from last time, but he's not due to arrive until the day after Kesten, which was only earlier today, being the day immediately after you left. Travel for this day is done and it's time to get to leisure or otherwise non-travelling activities for the rest of the day until the following day when you can head out again as you wish. Remind me to add a note to the Q&A detailing information learned from the new captives (this time without the... intense interrogation scenes that seem to follow our prisoners around like creepers)
Finally, Kesten's quest (already on the questboard in the Q&A from last time) is once again available. I don't especially feel like going to the effort of roleplaying it out for you again, but if you want to refresh your memory on this event in history, on Page 11 of the original game there is a large post about half-way down for you to start (on the 6th of Pharast). This post ends kind of abruptly, but it's all I got mind for this evening. Amuse yourselves with its contents and your reactions until I'm able to move us along further. At Frodrick's direction, unless otherwise demanded, we shall set out the next morning to begin the mapping of the Greenbelt, starting with the grasslands immediately surrounding the post.)
Starting on 8 Pharast, Oleg's fresh stock will come in with all the kinds of things that a standard adventuring party might need, up to a total of 500G, refreshing once a week and growing each week by 100G up to 1000G on the fifth week. It's worth mentioning this stock includes materials ordered from Zeran's recipes for ammunition. For now, let's say you cannot spend more than 100G on any one item. If you need to go over these limits for any reason, it's a simple matter to place a special order with Oleg (such as Zeran did for his masterwork components) and the items will arrive within a week. Finally, Oleg has 500G on hand to buy the s*** that you guys bring back from the Greenbelt, which refreshes weekly.
Oh, and after you sleep tonight:
Posted on 2013-03-15 at 03:27:40.
Edited on 2013-03-15 at 03:28:07 by Sibelius Eos Owm
Zeran climbed from the back of the wagon helping down anyone else who had been in with him, having volunteered Matilda for pulling services. He adjusted his shirt to keep the bandages covered and stretched slightly testing himself. Stiff but alright, he would recover quicker then expected he felt despite the severity of the wound. "Think I'll tinker for a bit if anyone needs me or needs assistance I'll be in plain sight." He states lazily before stepping lively to the table and taking a careful seat. His kit open and materials strewn about he busied himself organizing it, always sad that it got so jumbled during travel. At the same time he refilled his powder horn (-6 from barrel) and made doubly sure it was filled with as much as he could stuff into it safely.
He would have to wait until his share of the coin came in before purchasing scrap and other such things to make himself some more bullets, other wise he would be useless in combat until he recovered. He had exchanged words with their newest 'recruits' and felt comfortable enough with them to not worry about his stuff being stolen, that and they would be hanged to join the decaying Happs on the wall. The smith was nice enough if a bit gruff, but his trade would be plied well in good time. The rest would also make for good extra hands around to help liven and keep the place running smoothly.
He wasn't in much mind set to engage the guards or others in conversation, in particular he didn't want to explain his wound yet though he had seen a few concerned looks and simply grinned at them. Adela had done her part for him and he hadn't use for her though he would pester her in the future if only to be an ass. Without much else to do he worked.
((Will reply to any RP sent this way, don't feel much for writing a book with NPC banter.))
3 Pharast – Twilight
Thorn Ford Camp; Hex D4
“Come on out into the light lad, we ain’t going to kill ye without cause.”
Frodrick was glad that the young man complied with the command. Out of all the people salvaged, he wanted this one the most. He hoped that he might be able to identify more with this one, since he was a man of the hammer and anvil. That in itself demonstrated dedication, fortitude, and the willingness to do hard work over an extended period of time. And considering he would be out and about for days or even weeks on end, there was the chance this man could work on armor during those periods. Armor not only for Frodrick, but for his valiant steed.
Coming into the light, Frodrick held his hands up to show he was unarmed as he stepped forward.
“We be wonderin’ if you would show up or if maybe some beastie got yer knickers somewhere in these here woods. Since ye’ don’t who we be, let me give it to ye straight: we be here as a charter group to gain control of these here lands. As such, we thought your skills in blacksmithin’ would come in handy. So we hoped you would be willing to come quietly. Sounds like slavery, but trust me, upon yer release we will be able to give some other boons as well as yer freedom. The same goes fer the rest of the bandits we round up… presuming they behave themselves.”
Pharast 4 – Morning
Thorn Ford Camp; Hex D4
“Good news all! We got some more hands to help with shop. Now where be Stefan? I want him pay attention as me an ol’ Jargon train in combat commands!”
Finding Stefan, Frodrick ushers him out of the post. The dwarf leads his steed along behind him.
“As of late I be noticin’ that this group be needin’ a lot o’ guarding. So I figured it would be best to teach Jargon how to get enemies into bad situations. The idea would be that it would either help the others catch their footing, or make the enemy loose theirs. Just watch and see what you can pick up on handling animals.
Frodrick will use Handle Animal on Jargon to work on teaching her a bonus trick: Aid.
Frodrick will use Handle Animal afterwards to scavenge for food.
Posted on 2013-03-16 at 05:53:44.
Edited on 2013-03-16 at 05:54:10 by Shades331
Exploration & Mapping
Hexes: B5, B6 +50XP Each
The grasslands proved to be tame for at least long enough to give Zeran time to mend up with Kyrie's assistance. Oleg said he knew a hermit living not to far, named Bokken. It was Bokken who was responsible for selling Oleg the unusual, delicious potions that the latter eventually gave to the Greenbelt Party. The group decided to begin their chartered exploration in a circuit guaranteed to run across Bokken's hut and cover the entire grasslands to the east of Oleg's.
7 Pharast – Mid Afternoon
Bokken's Hut; Hex B6
On the third day of travel the Party came across a small ramshackle hut that could only fit the description given by Oleg. Bokken was an . . . eccentric . . . man according to Oleg, but the potion-maker is happy enough to sell to anyone looking for good potions.
The party dismounted outside and entered the hut. Bokken was not a tidy man. There were several cases of empty glass vials on what appeared to be some kind of work table, but several of cases were only half full, and not all sold as potions but rather strewn about the bench and on the floor. There was a cauldron, filled with a cooking pot, a wooden bowl, and a pestle, but no accompanying mortar.
Rather the mortar was to be found across the room, laying toppled on its side next to a stray knife on a table under a collection of dried herbs handing from strings along the wall.Yet another table was dominated by flasks of varying size and shape, and a misplaced hunk of cheese, half-eaten.
This came in addition to the usual amenities of the home, including a small table evidently for eating (only evidence being a spoon laying abandoned in the middle of the table) with an accompanying stool, a straw bed tucked neatly in one corner, and an unlit fire pit in the middle of the room, straddled by a tripod, but lacking either a potion-brewing or a cooking cauldron.
With the crowded disarray and clutter of the small hut, it could hardly be called surprising that the party initially believed the room to be empty. Only Zeran did not catch a glimpse of the ladle as it quietly marched through the air from behind one end of a table to the other, but it didn't take him long to notice once he'd spotted it.
Nearly simultaneously with the question, an old man leaped up from behind the table with an almost avian yelp that could have passed for an ill falcon or perhaps an alarmed fox.
The man stayed frozen for a moment, ladle raised defensively by his head, before realizing that such an introduction probably did not stand on its own. Evidently nature won out first in the brief stand-off and the tension was broken when Bokken had to take the opportunity to scratch his ankle. What seemed to be a persistent jitter kicked in after another second.
Finally he resorted to using speech to resolve the mystery presented to him. “Who're you lot?” he demanded. “Whaddyou want?”
Jargon's Training: Day 4/7
Handle Animal DC 20: 16 + 7 = 23
--Jargon Hooves will have learned the Aid trick after the day's training on 10 Pharast, assuming no interruption.
Finally, I won't be able to update the Greenbelt Map in the Q&A until I turn on my old computer and find the appropriate file, add the icon for Bokken's Hut to your version of the map, and then upload it.
Posted on 2013-03-16 at 09:33:55.
Edited on 2013-03-16 at 09:48:07 by Sibelius Eos Owm
”who’re you lot? Whaddyou want?”
Frodrick had taken in the scene with little judgement. Many of the finest forgers and blacksmiths of Redbrew had also been some of the messiest. They had their own means of organization, and it was obvious that this man “Bokken” was much like they were.
However, upon hearing the man’s screech, his mannerisms, and the way he spoke made it obvious he was an outcast and perhaps even mad hermit. Frodrick bit his tongue. He knew that if they were to get this man’s dedicated assistance in the months to come, they would need a soft silver tongue, not a sharp steely one like his.
The stout dwarf let the others do the talking. In the meantime, he decided to head out of the shack and keep Jargon Hooves company. Frodrick hoped that the man was not as interested in idle chit-chat as the he sized him up to be. There was exploring to do, and with an established relationship, perhaps the man would be more willing to do commissions later.
Since the events at the ford Krii had reminded fairly silent and stern faced and although had use for a potionsmith rolled his eyes upon reaching the little shack expecting nothing much inside but, the clutter the chaos the sheer sence of organization within disorganization it was in that moment upon entering the hut that Krii was hit with waves or childish nostalgia and faint memories of home a genuine smile came over his face, which was the abruplty borken as the loud screech and the crazy looking man bust out from hideing place, after the moment of shock Krii shook his head and sighed slightly being removed from his plesent day dreams and brought back to the harsh. He cleared his throat and spoke.
"We fine sir Bokken, are the Greenbelt charter party and wish you no ill will, we have come to perhaps seek your services Oleg, sent us in your directly praising you as a great potionsmith, we have a daunting task ahead of us and your wares may be just what the doctor ordered so to speak"
*Krii will ask in his own time about potions of inflict wounds if its decided that its added too the list of his capable potions if not then he wont so yeahh*
After the meeting with the Bokken, Krii left the hut and remounted Vilify strokeing down his neck, Krii was itching to keep moving the more he did the less he had to think, the events of the past few days were weighing on his mind, thoughts of lifes left behind and how ironic things were and he was happy when the rest of the party had rejoined him and Frodrick back outside and they set off again, he remained to the back of the group face once again hidden under his dark hood.
Zeran blinked and then couldn't help but chuckle gently. "You must be Bokken and as my friend here has said we could use your assistance with your skill with potions." He motioned to his bandaged area and grinned a bit in a friendly manner. "We have a daunting task as he said and well, as you can see some of us like to get poked by sharp things. I for one would be most pleased to see you aid us." He bows slightly and winces cringing at the pain. "Ah bugger that stings, Kyrie wasn't kidding." he mutters to himself chuckling slightly.
Miguel took a swig of his potion and held the bottle out in front of him looking at it. Oh fruity I've never had one like this before... that was quite delicious.
Miguel cut off his song mid verse and released his body into a sigh. “Huagh, thank the gods that over, that was cutting it close.” He turned to Frodrick and gave a half-bow “Thanks Pop's you and Jargon probably saved my life, glad you got my back. And I owe Jargon a carrot.” He said winking in response to the dwarf's bristly reaction to Zeran “I take that drink Cayden knows I need one.”
While the rest took care of rounding up the prisoners, the bard collapsed in an empty wagon, “wake me with dinners ready.” He covered his face and waved his hand around at no one.
“We've met once before, Adela was it? From the dance, remember?” Miguel said to the lady. she seemed very familiar, but he's been wrong before. His charming self isn't always a good thing.
He Watched the geezer with the intense stare scratch his ankle, Miguel raised an eyebrow “What a strange little man.”
Zeran likes to get poked by pointy things. I can't help it, I've been listening to Voltaire.
7 Pharast – Mid Afternoon
Bokken's Hut; Hex B6
“Eh? Whassat? Oleg!” The mad hermit's face brightened. “Well, Oleg's a fine man. Buys me potions offa me when I head out that way. Good businessman.”
“So it's potions you're after then, eh? Well! As long as y'all got the coin, I make the finest potions for miles around!” While talking his other hand absent mindedly fished in a pouch and drew a half dozen or so vials out. Without looking he cast them out on the table, somehow managing to set them all standing in a neat arrangement.
“For friends of Oleg's—Fifty crowns for the li'l ones, and three hundred for the big fella.” He indicated the potions, four 'small' and one 'big'. Though all stood the same size on the table, the 'big' one was clearly marked of a higher calibre. “These two are for healing, these are for the weather, and the big one will fix just about any injury y'got. If'n you need sommat that's not here, it'll take a bit to cook it up, but I can get you anything I can cast in a bottle.”
(Krii and Bokken)
Bokken's face broke into an equally sly and oblivious grin as he listened to Krii describe what he needed.
“Say no more, I got just the thing that'll take care of your 'problems'. Jus' be careful not to mix it up with the rest o' the lot.” Whatever the hermit suspected Krii's use for the potion, it was probably not the actual cause.
“Alright, now shoo! Off with ye! Martha will be back with supper any minute and I ain't sharing!” They didn't know who he could be talking about. The impression Oleg gave was that Bokken lived completely alone out in the wilderness, and the hut seemed laid out for a one person occupancy.
“One more thing!” He called almost no sooner than the party made it to the door. “I'm running out of fangberries to make my potions with. If you can get me a good supply I'll reward y'all handsomely for it. Now scat!”
Exploration & Mapping
Hexes: B7 +25XP Each
Jargon's Training: Complete - Aid Trick Learned!
The weather remained seasonally cool for the next few days, with the overbearingly overcast clouds returning, as the group came to the far eastern border of their lands. On the morning of the eleventh Frodrick turned his eyes to the sky. It was getting colder.
Frodrick pronounced it was going to snow that day. It would be a long slog, but it wouldn't prevent them from continuing their exploration. The cold, on the other hand, could cause some problems for them.
Kyrie took her wool coat and a heavy cloak from her pack and bundled up into her warmer clothing. Unfortunately, no one else possessed these provisions, so they would be huddling in their regular day-clothes, though Frodrick possessed the know-how to at least reduce the feel of the chill.
(Everyone can try, but only Frodrick has a good chance of providing the bonus to more than one party member. In fact I don't think there's any reason not to take 10 on it, so that's like an automatic 19-20 or more, which is enough to cover for every member of the party, so nobody has to roll. Be benefit is +2 to Fort saves vs. Cold while moving at half overland speed -or- +4 to Fort saves vs. Cold while remaining in one place.
The snow that's going to fall is already going to slow you down by half, btw. Alternatively you could not bother with Survival checks and proceed at full speed, but there are penalties associated with failing Cold saves. Btw, if you choose to stay I'm not sure what's to prevent you from actually setting up a fire and ignoring both the saves and the +4 other than a lack of wood, which we're already not keeping track of.)
Posted on 2013-03-17 at 22:53:57.
Edited on 2013-03-19 at 16:09:22 by Sibelius Eos Owm
“I can feel it in me bones… it’s gonna snow. And seeing as only one o’ us has the essentials to traverse in that kind of weather, I be saying we are going to have to wait it out. We have the provisions if it lasts a while, and we got some wood in the wagon to make a fire. So we best be settling in before it hits us like an ogre’s club.”
“Sorry if ye young whippersnappers think ye can tough it out – maybe ye can and I am just being old, but too often people underestimate the power of nature, and overestimate their abilities. So I am drawing a line here: ye can all go on without me if ye want, but I be staying here and setting up a shelter. I will help out anyone who wants to join me.”
(I italicised “wood in the wagon” as an indicator that I am assuming as a non-countable item we have some in stock. If not, I will edit/modify the post.) Presuming Frodrick is right in his belief that it is going to snow, and some to all of the group stay with him.
The tent was not designed to house five people, but it was better than being outside. Even if it was not a storm blustering out there, even the slightest gust made chilled the flesh. Frodrick started to smoke his pipe in the tent. Perhaps some of the others didn’t like the smell of his tobacco in the confined space, but he would be damned if he couldn’t smoke in his own tent!
Not too many of the group had proper bedding for these conditions either: Kyrie had proper traveling gear, Krii had a heavy blanket, and Frodrick himself had a tent – combined it was enough for a single person to get by comfortably. It was a learning experience.
Honestly, Frodrick was surprised that he had forecasted properly. He had been out on the surface more than most dwarves of Clan Redbrew, but still that was not enough for him to feel experienced in being a guide of it. The dwarf just hoped that the “feelings in his bones” would keep him aware of what to do in this alien, gods forsaken land. According to the posters and trappers that were about the trading post there are plenty of bandits, kobolds, and wildlife that made this place inhospitable. Now they could add weather to the list as well. It would be best not to have armor on during the cold and hot weather now that he thought about it… especially metal armor if they ever got the chance to get the stuff.
Outside, Jargon Hooves whinnied. The sound sent a pang of sadness into the old dwarf’s heart. He didn’t like the idea of keeping his mare out in the cold, but there was very little he could do about it. He left her untied, since she was one whom Frodrick could trust to stay nearby. This meant that if a wind ever did pick up, she could navigate around the wagon to take cover from it. But with no blanket, it was up to the horses to group up to keep warm.
“Miguel, sing us a song or tell us a story there laddie. I would prefer yer screeching to that of this dead silence we got goin’ on. Them beasts ‘o burden out there ain’t no song to me ears either.”
It was going to be a long night to wait out this snowfall… hopefully it would only be a night, and not any longer. Indeed, this was a learning experience for them all. Next time they got to Oleg’s, Frodrick would be ordering proper winter gear for both himself and Jargon hooves.
Posted on 2013-03-18 at 21:19:18.
Edited on 2013-03-19 at 19:35:07 by Shades331
Exploration & Mapping
Hexes: C7, C6 +50XP Each
The snow started around midday, falling thick in fat clumps. The temperature quickly grew cold enough that building a fire was necessary to stave off the numbing effects of the frost on the unprotected party members, of which Zeran and Miguel suffered the worst from the chill. In order to maximize the retention of heat and minimize the cutting effects of even the lightest breezes, Frodrick set up his tent and managed to squeeze everyone in, if barely.
Thankfully the warm spring of the Greenbelt was merciful. This was merely a modest, hearty snowfall in late winter, rather than a full-force snow storm known to fight back against the encroachment of the warmer months.
When the snowfall finished late into the afternoon and the sun peeked on the transformed landscape, the party emerged from the tent to find the grasslands entirely covered in a layer of snow of a hand span’s depth, save in places where the brush and tall grasses surpassed that height. They lacked any kind of tarp to pull over the wagon, and so that too filled with a generous layer of white powder while the four horses browsed on the taller grasses awaiting their feedbags.
The party was unable to all sleep in the one tent, so they laid out their bedrolls as close to the fire as they dare get, leaving one awake on watch at all times to tend the fire.
The following morning brought with it the temperatures the party had grown accustomed to in early spring, though the thick snow remained with them, melting over the next two days and slowing down their tracks. During this time their only close encounter with the wildlife of the region came on the second night, with a group stag elk, still antler-less in the early season of the year, who wandered too close to the camp and startled Kyrie on watch with their noises.
Spider’s Nest; Hex C6
Sometime during the day exploring the last region of plains to the southeast of Oleg’s, the Greenbelt charter party came upon an area strewn with piles of bones. The unfortunate donors of the remains appeared to come from a spectrum of creatures, some big enough to be sized for a bear, while others typical of deer, with at least a few identifiable boar tusks, complete with a handful bearing a very close resemblance to human. With few exceptions most of the piles seemed formed of individual creatures, apparently deposited from full skeletons of the bodies.
The party reminded themselves to be on their guard at this sight, the first real sign they had faced of the dangers living in the Greenbelt, other than that posed by the bandit camps under charge of the Stag Lord. That was, of course, assuming this field wasn’t some sort of dumping ground for the bodies of the Stag Lord’s enemies—though it would seem a bit far from the reported location of his fort, all the way down by the region’s main lake.
With a mind toward defending themselves should the predator that had caused this macabre boneyard return for another meal, they hastened on. Unfortunately not even Frodrick's natural affinity for the ways of the earth prepared them for the event that the predator had never actually left the area.
Fast than Zeran could utter a curse, the ground next to exploded upward and in a flurry of ruddy legs a massive spider the size of a small pony leapt onto Vilify, biting the black steed on the flank with knife-like fangs, before retreating behind its trapdoor. (-2dmg Vilify + -2Str Poison) The cork-like roof of the trapdoor sealed shut almost as if the attack had never happened. If the group had not seen the spider emerge, they almost could have missed the 5' circle door made of dried mud and vegetation on the ground beside Krii and Vilify.
(Krii has to either control his mount or attempt to fall from the saddle without injuring himself when Vilify spooks. No one is armed, but everyone is wearing their normal armour (for Jargon this is none, since traveling in barding is not ideal for horses except in preparing for battle. Or hmm... that line appears to have been removed in the Pathfinder description.) Zeran's pistol is unloaded, but he is also in charge of driving the wagon at the moment. The wagon follows behind Krii and Frodrick, with Krii on the right and the trapdoor to his right.)
Posted on 2013-03-20 at 01:45:50.
Edited on 2013-03-20 at 02:12:22 by Sibelius Eos Owm
“Gods damn it all to the ninth layer of Hell!” Frodrick cursed, partially spooked from the sudden movement and aftermath of the attack. He hadn’t got a good look at the critter, but he knew it was huge. His brethren had spoken much about large vermin living in the tunnels that they had mined, but he had never actually seen one before!
Gathering his wits, Frodrick ushered out a command to Krii. “Get yer horse outta here before it makes both of ya’ joining the bones of this here lot!” Retrieving his lance which was latched to one side of his military saddle pointing upwards, Frodrick prepared to set a charge up in the event that the monstrous arachnid decided to come out and play. If not, he would probably go help Krii with his mount. Watching the horses whiney as they were spooked Frodrick grumbled. “Damn kids and their want of pets…” He lifted his lance in one hand while holding Jargon Hooves’ reigns in the other.