Zen Gypsy

AC: 17 | HIT POINTS: 48 | CURRENT: 48 | HERO POINTS: 1 FORTITUDE: +9 | REFLEX: +7 | WILL: +12 | PERCEPTION: +7 FOCUS POINTS: 2 | CURRENT: 2 | SPELL SLOTS [ARCANE]: 1st: 3/4 | 2nd: 3/4 | SPELL SLOTS [OCCULT]: 1st: 1/1 ACTIVE EFFECTS: Share Senses (Verjigorm) CONDITIONS: None. Vharag spoke to the rest of the group from the center of a chalk circle, he had drawn moments before Verjigorm had slithered into the darkness concealed by Renali's illusory cloak. The connection between Vharag and the Starless-Shadow's emissary allowed him to observe the world, as it saw saw it. Shades of black and grey, it moved through the series of tunnels, Syhlas padding, unseen, and unheard, below, as Verjigorm glided, soundlessly, on it's membranous wings. The orc's mind, analytical and ordered, worked to recall the path the pair took to the chamber, his thick orc voice, now low, in a gravelly whisper, narrated what he observed. "Small complex of rooms, worked stones, ancient, likely elven in nature. Some catastrophe, backlash perhaps, melted stone, an archway to the southwest. Central, radial, chamber, six archways, six arches, each unique in design, elven woman, gold-spun hair, black and green robes, dagger and wand, tome at her hip, studying the archway." Verjigorm's sinuous neck swayed, as the creature scanned the room, Vharag could smell the elf through the Emissary's nostrils, feel the saliva thickening in their mouth as Verjigorm sighted the elf-flesh. Vharag, too, studied the runes, the woman, trying to determine their best method of attack, how to capitalize on the cloaked Syhlas, how best to prevent the woman from escaping. Out of Character Free Action: Reaction: Action 1: Action 2: Action 3:

AC: 18 | HIT POINTS: 18 | CURRENT: 18 | HERO POINTS: 1 FORTITUDE: +3 | REFLEX: +9 | WILL: +6 | PERCEPTION: +6 ACTIVE EFFECTS: None. CONDITIONS: None. Actions. "Speech" Thoughts. Out of Character Free Action: Reaction: Action 1: Action 2: Action 3:

AC: 18 | HIT POINTS: 18 | CURRENT: 18 | HERO POINTS: 1 FORTITUDE: +3 | REFLEX: +9 | WILL: +6 | PERCEPTION: +6 ACTIVE EFFECTS: None. CONDITIONS: None. When Enoch Hawkmoor first set foot in Port Torvin, the sharp scent of salt and fish assaulted his senses, mingling with the less savory odors of a bustling port town. His arrival was not heralded by fanfare or recognition; instead, it was marked by the subtle nod of a dockworker and the indifferent glances of hurried sailors. The city was a tangled web of commerce and corruption, a far cry from the noble courts of Furyondy where he was raised. His first days were spent gathering information, his innate mistrust of authority sharpened by the whispers of street urchins and the secretive glances of the townsfolk. He learned of the missing orphans, tales that pulled at his sense of justice. Driven by his own sense of duty, he prowled the darker corners of Port Torvin, tracing the children's fate to a grim discovery—they were being press-ganged into service by unscrupulous sailors under a corrupt dockmaster's command. Determined to end this exploitation, Enoch confronted the sailors at the docks. His blade flashed in the dim light of the evening, a beacon of his unwavering resolve. The clash was brutal and swift; sailors found themselves outmatched but not before they called for reinforcements. The dockmaster, a pudgy man with a crooked nose and a crookeder sense of morality, arrived flanked by his personal guards. The altercation escalated, and though Enoch fought valiantly, the numbers overwhelmed him. Bruised and battered, Enoch was dragged to the local jailhouse, a dank, stone building that reeked of mold and despair. The cell he was thrown into was small, cramped, and cold. The iron bars were rusted, the stone walls seeped with moisture, and the straw on the floor was musty. Yet, even in such dire circumstances, Enoch's resolve did not waver. He spent a restless night, his mind racing through plans of redemption and thoughts of the innocent children forced into servitude. The guards, a mixture of wary veterans and indifferent conscripts, kept a cautious eye on him. They had heard tales of his combat prowess, exaggerated by each retelling. One young guard, curious more than cautious, struck up a conversation. Enoch, ever the tactician, used the opportunity to glean more information about the dockmaster's operations and the guard's own views on the corruption gnawing at the city's underbelly. Come morning, Enoch was released—his actions deemed more heroic than criminal, thanks to the intervention of a few locals he had helped since arriving in town. His possessions, though slightly tampered, were returned, but most of his coin was missing. Stepping out into the bright light of dawn, Enoch felt the weight of his temporary defeat, yet the fire within him burned brighter, fueled by injustice and the need for redemption. He gathered his belongings, his armor clinking with each movement, a reminder of the battles fought and those yet to come. As he walked through the streets, heading towards the temple of Procan, his mind was a whirl of plans and possibilities. Minerva was deeply engaged in her reluctant conversation with Hecuba, her tone laced with irritation and resignation, when the temple door creaked open once more. Enoch Hawkmoor stepped in, his arrival marked by the muted echo of his heavy boots against the aged stone floor of the temple. He paused just inside the entrance, catching snippets of Minerva's dialogue with her familiar. As she complained about the indignity of having to deal with a temple of Procan, Enoch couldn’t help but overhear her lament over the lesser significance of a sea god. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly; the diverse pantheons of gods, both minor and major, had always been a peripheral concern in his life—useful when needed, but not a driving force. His appearance was noticeably rough—a stark contrast to her meticulous, though stained, red cloak. His armor bore the dents and scratches of recent skirmishes, and his face showed signs of a man who had spent a night less in bed and more in brawl. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, there was an earnestness in his approach, a deliberate respectfulness that balanced his rugged exterior. He cleared his throat softly, announcing his presence before he came too close, not wanting to startle her or seem as though he was eavesdropping intentionally. “Pardon the interruption,” Enoch began, his voice a raspy contrast to her crisp tones. "I couldn’t help but overhear a bit about your predicament." He stepped into the light filtering through the stained glass, which painted his face in vibrant, if not somewhat jarring, colors. “I’m Enoch Hawkmoor,” he continued, extending a hand in greeting, rough but firm. “Seems we might be in similar straits, searching for passage out of circumstances rather than Port Torvin itself. If you're inclined, perhaps we could pool our resources. Temple work might not be the loftiest of endeavors, but it often pays in more ways than coin.” Out of Character Free Action: Reaction: Action 1: Action 2: Action 3:

AC: 16 (18) | HIT POINTS: 38 | CURRENT: 33 | THP: 0 | HERO POINTS: 0 FORTITUDE: +9 | REFLEX: +3 | WILL: +7 | PERCEPTION: +7 ACTIVE EFFECTS: Blessings of Erastil; Light (On Shield); Rage (Giant Instinct); Raised Shield CONDITIONS: Clumsy 1. As the battle rages on, Ealdred stands firm beside the summoned tree, his eyes ablaze with determination despite the pain of his wounds. With each breath, he draws upon his inner strength, channeling the spirit of Phaendar itself. Planting his feet firmly upon the ground, Ealdred raises his axe high, its gleaming edge reflecting the flickering light of the battlefield. With a primal roar that echoes across the bridge, he brings it down, it is deflected from the battered remains of the soldier's shield. His eyes blazing with fury, he reverses his grip on the axe, spins around, and slams it towards the soldier's right shoulder, the shield snaps up, but the force of Ealdred's fury is overwhelming. With the Ironfang soldier reeling from the impact, Ealdred stands tall amidst the chaos, a commanding voice that cuts through the din of battle, "HOLD!" He calls upon his comrades to stand their ground, "HOLD!" To hold fast against the tide of darkness threatening to engulf their home. "MAKE THEM PAY FOR EVERY STEP!" Out of Character Free Action: Reaction: 2 dmg, reduced to 0. [H: 5 HP/BT: 18/10] Action 1: Action 2: S-E Soldier [Miss] Action 3: S-E Soldier [-5 MAP] [Likely a hit even with Raised Shield; 16 damage including 1 from Inspire Courage]

AC: 17 | HIT POINTS: 48 | CURRENT: 48 | HERO POINTS: 1 FORTITUDE: +9 | REFLEX: +7 | WILL: +12 | PERCEPTION: +7 FOCUS POINTS: 2 | CURRENT: 2 | SPELL SLOTS [ARCANE]: 1st: 3/4 | 2nd: 3/4 | SPELL SLOTS [OCCULT]: 1st: 1/1 ACTIVE EFFECTS: None. CONDITIONS: None. Standing among the charred remnants of their foe, Vharag's attention shifts between the gauntlet and the ornate arrowhead, his orcish voice rough and commanding in the cavern's silence. "This key," he says, nodding towards the object in Arionne’s grip, "it’s not just some trinket—it’s a gateway to powers and secrets lost to time. These aiudara, they're more than pathways; they're vaults of ancient knowledge. We need to study this key, to unlock its secrets. That knowledge could crush our enemies like Voz or this Belmazog." Turning to the matter of their foes, his tone grows even graver. “We need to scout out this Voz and Belmazog—figure out their schemes, their weaknesses. Charging in blind is like hunting a bear with a stick.” After a brief nod to Syhlas’s comment, he concludes, “We fought hard today. But bravery isn't enough." He looked to Baldric, "Now, we regroup, we study, we strengthen. Every gate we step through could lead to wonders or to death. We must be ready for both.” Vharag’s mind raced with the promise of uncovering ancient secrets, arcane rites, old enough, powerful enough, to unite his tribe, protect them from the corruption of Lamashtu. Out of Character Free Action: Reaction: Action 1: Action 2: Action 3:

AC: 16 (18) | HIT POINTS: 38 | CURRENT: 38 | THP: 3 | HERO POINTS: 1 FORTITUDE: +9 | REFLEX: +3 | WILL: +7 | PERCEPTION: +7 ACTIVE EFFECTS: Blessings of Erastil; Light (On Shield); Rage (Giant Instinct); Raised Shield CONDITIONS: Clumsy 1. His shield held high and his axe poised for grisly work, with a whistle, arrows came flying towards Ealdred. With lightning reflexes, he raised his shield, batting the projectiles with a resounding clang. The impact barely fazed him, he roared defiantly as he stood firm against the onslaught. On the edge of his vision, barely illuminated by the crackling flashes of lightning that Ragnhild had conjured on his shield, he saw three small figures struggling in fear and terror. Seeing the children in the distance, struggling to reach safety, Ealdred's heart surged with determination. Urging them onward with a bellowing shout, he fought with renewed vigor, his every swing a testament to his resolve to protect those in need. "Children, this way! Hurry to safety! Run to the bridge, we'll protect you!" His first blow landed true, the force of his axe cleaving through the hobgoblin's defenses with brutal efficiency. The enemy fell with a sickening thud, a testament to the strength of Ealdred's defiant wrath. With a mighty swing, he struck out at another approaching hobgoblin, but this time his blow went wide, missing its mark. Undeterred, Ealdred braced himself for the impending clash with the heavy troopers, his resolve unshaken even in the face of overwhelming odds. Out of Character Free Action: Reaction: 7 dmg, reduced to 2. [H: 5 HP/BT: 18/10] Action 1: Action 2: S-E Recruit [Success (possibly Critical), for 11 slashing] Action 3: S-W Recruit

Sorry, it's been a long week. I will try to get Enoch's impressions of the rest of the party completed in the next day or two.

AC: 16 (18) | HIT POINTS: 39 | CURRENT: 10 | HERO POINTS: 0 FORTITUDE: +8 | REFLEX: +6 | WILL: +11 | PERCEPTION: +6 FOCUS POINTS: 1 | CURRENT: 0 | SPELL SLOTS: 1st: 3/4 | 2nd: 2/3 ACTIVE EFFECTS: Courageous Anthem CONDITIONS: Immunity (Guidance) Pain and fury fuel Vharag as he channels his primal magic once more, determined not to falter this time. His staff becomes an extension of his wrath, flames licking eagerly around its gnarled wood. With a fierce cry that seems to shake the very air of the cavern, he strikes forward, the flames catching brilliantly as they meet the flesh of Malarunk, the charau-ka leader. The fire surges hungrily, enveloping the massive creature in a sudden inferno that crackles and roars in the confined space. The charau-ka's fur burns, the smell of singed hair and flesh filling the air, his howls of pain echoing off the walls as he thrashes wildly under the unexpected assault. With the charau-ka ablaze, Vharag steps back, the flames from his staff still flickering ominously. He raises his shield, battered and scorched, planting it firmly in front of him. His stance is one of open defiance, a silent dare thrown at his foe. His eyes burn with a fierce, unyielding light, his face set in grim determination. "Come then, beast!" Vharag bellows across the battlefield, his voice booming in the cramped cavern. "Feel the wrath of one who bends the elements themselves to his will! Strike, if you dare!" Out of Character Free Action: Reaction: Action 1 & 2: Cast on Charau-ka Champion. [Critical Success; 18 damage & 1d4 Persistent Fire] Action 3:

AC: 16 (18) | HIT POINTS: 38 | CURRENT: 38 | THP: 5 | HERO POINTS: 1 FORTITUDE: +9 | REFLEX: +3 | WILL: +7 | PERCEPTION: +7 ACTIVE EFFECTS: Blessings of Erastil; Light (On Shield); Rage (Giant Instinct) CONDITIONS: Clumsy 1. With a thunderous roar, Ealdred burst forth from the cover of the trees, his massive frame propelled forward with startling speed. In a blur of motion, he closed the distance to the oncoming Ironfang scouts, his eyes burning with determination as he raised his shield high and brandished his mighty axe. With a powerful swing, he brought the axe down with all his strength, aiming to cleave through the first of the two scouts with relentless force. The weapon descended like a falling storm, aimed true at its target, as Ealdred's battle cry echoed across the bridge, a powerful declaration of defiance against the invading horde. "For Phaendar!" he bellowed, his voice booming with raw intensity as he unleashed his fury upon the enemy, the light crackling around his shield adding an otherworldly intensity to his cry. Out of Character Free Action: Reaction: Action 1: Action 2 & 3: (S-S-S-S-S; E-E-S-S-SW; Strike Scout to W)

AC: 16 | HIT POINTS: 39 | CURRENT: 17 | HERO POINTS: 0 FORTITUDE: +8 | REFLEX: +6 | WILL: +11 | PERCEPTION: +6 FOCUS POINTS: 1 | CURRENT: 0 | SPELL SLOTS: 1st: 3/4 | 2nd: 2/3 ACTIVE EFFECTS: Courageous Anthem CONDITIONS: Immunity (Guidance) The dark energy surged through Vharag's body like a torrent of searing pain, causing his muscles to convulse involuntarily and his vision to swim with disorientation. Every fiber of his being screamed in agony as the necrotic energy gnawed away at his flesh, leaving behind a trail of festering wounds that oozed with dark ichor. With gritted teeth, Vharag struggled to maintain his focus, to push past the overwhelming pain and summon forth his own retaliatory magic. Yet as he reached out to command the primal flames of the void, his efforts faltered, the arcane energies slipping from his grasp like grains of sand through clenched fists. Frustration and anger welled up within him as his spell missed its mark, dissipating harmlessly into the air with little more than a feeble flicker. Weakness washed over him like a suffocating tide, leaving him gasping for breath and struggling to remain upright. But even in the midst of his pain and failure, Vharag refused to yield. With a defiant snarl, he raised his shield once more, his arms trembling with the effort as he prepared to weather whatever onslaught their foe might unleash upon them. Out of Character Free Action: Reaction: Action 1 & 2: Cast on Charau-ka Champion. Action 3:

AC: 16 (18) | HIT POINTS: 38 | CURRENT: 38 | THP: 5 | HERO POINTS: 1 FORTITUDE: +9 | REFLEX: +3 | WILL: +7 | PERCEPTION: +7 ACTIVE EFFECTS: Blessings of Erastil; Rage (Giant Instinct) CONDITIONS: Clumsy 1. As the Ironfang approached, Ealdred, illuminated by the crackling storm cloud cast by Ragna's spell, positioned himself in the copse of woods to the west of the storage shed. His massive frame and crackling shield made hiding impossible, but he sought cover from incoming arrows while remaining ready to charge at the enemy as soon as they closed the distance. With every member of the group in position and ready for battle, the tension on the bridge reached a fever pitch. The clash with the Ironfang was imminent, and each defender braced themselves for the coming onslaught, their resolve unwavering in the face of overwhelming odds. Out of Character Free Action: Drop Horn (On Strap so falls to side) Reaction: Action 1: Ready Axe Action 2: Raise Shield Action 3: Rage.

AC: 16 | HIT POINTS: 39 | CURRENT: 39 | HERO POINTS: 0 FORTITUDE: +8 | REFLEX: +6 | WILL: +11 | PERCEPTION: +6 FOCUS POINTS: 1 | CURRENT: 0 | SPELL SLOTS: 1st: 3/4 | 2nd: 2/3 ACTIVE EFFECTS: Courageous Anthem CONDITIONS: Immunity (Guidance) Vharag steps forward with a primal confidence, his eyes ablaze with determination as he faces the towering charau-ka warrior. With a guttural incantation that resonates with the ancient power an orcish shaman, he summons forth the crackling energy of lightning, channeling it into his foes. A brilliant bolt shatters the cavern's dim light, crackling with raw intensity, streaking through the air like a bolt of vengeance. With unerring precision, it strikes true, bridging the gap between the massive charau-ka and the smaller, mandibled creature, enveloping them in a coruscating web of energy. With the spell unleashed, Vharag wastes no time in pressing the attack. With each stride, the ground beneath his feet seems to tremble with the weight of his resolve. Closing the distance between himself and Dahak's champion, he meets the towering figure with an unwavering gaze. "If you are truly Dahak's best," he growls, his voice resonating with the authority of one who has faced down countless foes, "then we've nothing to fear from your master." Out of Character Free Action: Reaction: Action 1 & 2: Cast Charau-ka Champion & Mandible Ugly Action 3: tride 925 ft due East; end adjacent to Charau-ka Champion)

Chaos swirls around the fishery, as orphans, pick pockets and cut purses rush towards open doors, or deeper into the fishery looking to scamper away from the violence that rages around them. Even as they surge past Aquila, a literal storm begins to swell, damp air forming into veritable clouds, arcs of lightning crackle as she pushes out her anger and fury, unleashing it in Grakk's direction. A snap, a brief, but blinding flash of lightning, and the enforcer slumps to the ground like a piece of chapped wood, wisps of smoke curling up from his eye sockets. However, even as their foe drops, so to does their companion, Carthen dropping to the floor after a vicious reprisal from the raging tattooed brawler, Tarth. However, the young orc blooded street tough tenaciously clings to life, crawling, feebly along the floor. Tarth, still frothing, laboriously advances, Ihrin, snarls a few words at the raging man, causing his next steps to falter, using that moment, she thrusts forward, her slim rapier biting deep of the big man's prodigious stomach, blood staining his broad leather belt. In a grim reprisal, he reaches out grabbing the young bard by the tunic, pulling her forward and slamming his broad forehead down into the bridge of her nose, causing stars to erupt in her feild of vision, as she is wracked by pain. As Lira steps in to try to take advantage of the situation, her blade misses the mark as Tarth pins Ihrin against the wall, however, by stepping deeper into the offices, she clears a path for Ionascu, who rushes in invoking an arcane spell, gathering shards of glass and crockery, sends them hurling towards the bookeeper, piercing his torso in several places as the worn brocade of his vest darkens with his life's blood, the man slumping to the floor. On the fishery's working floor, Caltrix leaps through the void to land atop the vat, stumbles a moment before falling in, loathe to spend a second more in the slurry of fishguts and river waste, she clambers out, drawing her rapier to confront any danger. As the overseer stops his advance up the stairs, two arrows whistle through the air, expertly placed between the banister rails, taking him in the thigh, he turns to look a second arrow cutting a nasty furrow along what was, until now, handsome face. The whip held loosely in his hand, lashes out, catching Caltrix foot, sending her crashing to the ground, before it snakes back, coils and lashes out again, snapping like a thundercrack a few feet above her head. Then a second crash, the red-haired, scar-faced Voss leaps through a window to the south of the working floor, bolts down the stairs, blood still leaking from where the glass bit her forearms, and deftly hurls a dagger at the prone Caltrix, taking the young halfling, deeply, in the shoulder. Fishery, Rnd 5 Round 4 Summary: Aquila: Elemental Blast Grakk [Critical Success; 8 Electrical dmg; Dead] Caltrix: Jump; Climb; Draw Wpn Carthen: Unconscious; Dying 1 Ihrin: Strike Tarth [Hit; 4 dmg]; Bon Mot [Fail]; Demoralize Tarth [Success; Frightened 1] Valerica: Step; Mark Prey; Hunted Shot [+2 Partial Cover; -2 Flat-footed; Success [3 piercing dmg], Critical Success [2 piercing damage]] Ionacu: Telekinetic Projectile Balk [Critical Success; 20 piercing damage; Dead] Lira: Pick Up Wpn; Strike Grakk, Strike Grak [Miss, Miss] Round 5 Actions: Tarth: Step; Grab Ihrin; Headbutt Ihrin [-4 MAP]; Critical Success (Ihrin is Restrained); Success (7 Non-lethal Damage) Fabio: Step, Trip & Strike [-4 MAP] Caltrix; Success (Caltrix is Prone); Miss Voss: Leap through Window [d6 Hazard]; Stride; Toss Knife at Caltrix; 4 Slashing dmg to Voss; Critical Success (6 Piercing damage) When dropped to 0 HP, you gain the Dying condition. This round you can either roll a recovery Check (Flat d20) vs DC 11 to Stabilize, or you may spend a Hero Point to automatically stabilize via our Heroic Recovery house rule.

AC: 16 (18) | HIT POINTS: 39 | CURRENT: 33 | HERO POINTS: 1 0 FORTITUDE: +8 | REFLEX: +6 | WILL: +11 | PERCEPTION: +6 FOCUS POINTS: 1 | CURRENT: 0 | SPELL SLOTS: 1st: 3/4 | 2nd: 2/3 ACTIVE EFFECTS: Raised Shield. CONDITIONS: Immunity (Guidance) Vharag, his breathing heavy with exertion and the sharp sting of the charau-ka's blade fresh on his arm, wipes the blood briskly with the back of his hand. He watches the creature retreat with a snarl of frustration, his mind already racing through possibilities and tactical adjustments for what lies ahead. With a determined grunt, he moves swiftly to the entrance of the northeast tunnel, his shield raised high and his body tensed for whatever may come. The dark, echoing passages of the cave could hide any number of threats, and the mention of a "boss" confirms his suspicion that they are yet to face the true challenge of this den of enemies. As Vharag positions himself, he uses the brief moment of respite to scan the tunnel entrance, ensuring there are no immediate threats or traps that could jeopardize their pursuit. His shield, a large, sturdy piece of worked iron emblazoned with the symbols of his tribe, is not just a defense but a statement of his resolve. "Stay alert," he calls back to his companions, his voice echoing slightly in the stony corridor. With a firm grip on his staff, Vharag sets himself as the first line of defense, ready to react to any threat that might emerge from the shadows of the tunnel. His eyes, accustomed to the dim light of underground paths from his many years of wandering and fighting, search the darkness ahead, trying to anticipate the enemy's next move. Out of Character Free Action: Reaction: Action 1 & 2: Stride to NE tunnel Action 3: