Season 1, Episode 1 - Highway To Hell

[prophane]

---

Location: Long and lonely road between Marsakeer and Rookroost
Date: Starday, First of Growfest (festival week)
Time: around noon
Weather: Cold, 42°, partly cloudy and light wind out of the southeast
Sunrise/set: just after 6am/ just before 6:30pm

---

Somewhere on a dusty road several days east of Rookroost...

It is spring in the Bandit Kingdoms, and though you’ve seen countless cases of hardship and desperation in these lands, you have thus far avoided encountering any of the demon-god’s, Iuz’s, zealous worshippers during your travels to Rookroost, City of Ravens, the largest city in the region.

You're traveling with a decent-sized group of travelers centered around a Baklunish spice merchant's wagon making its way from points north and east, most recently from Marsakeer, on the border with Tenh, to Rookroost. Some folk are guards,  earning a few coins to protect the wagon, and some are merely keeping close. In this land there is definitely safety in numbers.

The caravan is small, just one wagon pulled by two oxen. A tired, old riding horse follows along, tied to the back of the wagon. The merchant woman, Amira, is likable enough, though she gets right down to business whenever business is at hand. She started her endeavor about 2 and a half weeks ago, setting out of her base, Rookroost, and heading northeast to Synford, on the border of Tenh, then traveling back along the Zumker River, trading with numerous towns and villages on both sides of the water. The last stop, in the small village of Marsaker, was about 2 days ago, and by all estimation, it should be only another 2 days until the spires of the City of Ravens is once more in sight.

A handful of travelers have come to know, and maybe even like, one another a bit in the past week, and even the merchant, Amira, seems to have taken an interest in some of you. 

 

Edited April 21, 2023 by prophane (see edit history)

[TheShadyRaven]

IRANNA | THREAD

---

STATISTICS

ST: 9 DX: 10 IQ: 14 HT: 12 HP: 9/9 FP: 9/9

---

DMG: 1d-2/1d-1 BL: 16 PER: 14 Basic Speed: 5.5 Dodge: 8.5 Basic Move: 5 Encumbrance: 16/32/48/96/160

---

Age: Adult Appearance: Beautiful

---

Culture Familiarity: Sea of Dust (Native), Bandit Kingdoms Languages (Spoken): Suloise (Native), Common (Accented) Languages (Written): Suloise, Common

---

Advantages: Ally (Familiar), Magery 3, Special Rapport (Familiar)

---

Disadvantages: Obsession (Magic), Overconfidence, Social Stigma (Minority Group - Outsider)

---

Quirks: Careful, Distinctive Features, Likes (Magic), Proud

---

Skills: Body Language 12, Dancing 10, Detect Lies 12, First Aid 14, Hidden Lore (Spirit Lore) 13, Hiking 11, Melee Weapon (Knife) 10, Naturalist 12, Occultism 13, Riding (Horse) 10, Ritual Magic (Genie Binding) 12, Survival (Desert) 14, Survival (Plains) 13, Symbol Drawing 12, Thaumatology 14.

---

Spells: Sense Foes [Communication and Empathy] 15, Detect Magic [Knowledge] 15, Light [Light and Darkness] 15, Foolishness [Mind Control] 15, Forgetfulness [Mind Control] 15, Shield [Protection and Warning] 15, Armor [Protection and Warning] 15, Seek Water [Water] 15, Purify Water [Water] 15, Create Water [Water] 15.

---

 

Iranna walked with the same fluid gait that had carried her through the desert. Like all of her people, the woman was tall and slender, of dark skin and slanted eyes. Khaleema - the mage's servant - had braided Iranna's curly hair early that morning. A colored veil - the last memento that Iranna had from the Sea of Dust - now hid the woman's hairstyle from sight, even though at times a lonely braid would reappear from over her shoulder.

Iranna's wardrobe had seen a lot of changes in the past months. She still had a taste for the jewelry her people were so fond of. While she had carried the gold and gems openly during her days as a tribeswoman, now she only wore one or two pieces at a time. Her travels had taught her not to flash wealth too openly. Gone were the linens and the lighter fabrics she had worn under the desert's scorching sun. Likewise, gone were the simple sandals, good to walk on hot sands, but inappropriate for cold weather. As she moved north, the woman had replaced them with closed boots. Though Iranna could have afforded to wear something simpler, nowadays she opted for sturdier dresses, fit for the road.
The road. So far, Iranna had been unimpressed by the so called Bandit Kingdoms. She glanced at the wagon that advanced at her side. Her backpack was there, among more goods than a tribe could ever hope to gather for a feast.

The bag contained all her belongings, including the tome she had found during what now felt like someone else's life. The woman had paid a heavy price for the book - she still felt the cruel bites that the lash had left on her back the day of her exile. Yet the pain had been temporary, whereas the power Iranna had drawn from those ancient pages would have last for a lifetime. That was why the mage never let the book stray too far - Iranna walked because she liked walking, but a stone's throw from the wagon's side was as far as she was willing to go without the tome.

It was her understanding that the leader of this caravan was just returning from a trip along the Zumker River, to trade people living in the settlements built along the river banks and make a profit before returning home with even more to sell. Iranna had decided to join the group as she crossed the wagons' path just outside of Marsakeer. It was good to have company, when travelling through dangerous territories. That had been true in the Sea of Dust, and it was still true on the road she was walking on. Truth be told, the Baklunish merchant had tried to make Iranna pay a smalle fee for the protection offerer by her guards, but the mage had offered to help procure water using her spells, and that had been enough.

Her gaze followed the trail as it continued forward and disappeared beyond a hill. Khaleema had gone somewhere - no doubt working on the preparations for the next trick. The maridan's endless barrage of practical jokes could be hard to tolerate, so Iranna took every chance she got to spend some time on her own. On the positive side, the woman's servant did divert a lot of unwanted attention from her - and Iranna had had her own share of trouble for that very reason. Like all water gens, Khaleema was tiny - at least on the First Material, or so she claimed. Iranna had never visited another plane of existence, even though she guessed she'd like the experience. Be as it may, the maridan resembled a one foot tall woman with greenish skin, piercing ice eyes, and blue hair. Needless to say, the gen did not go unnoticed, even though the stares did nothing to inconvenience the creature. If anything, the attention made Khaleema only more playful, eager to pull pranks and make a fool out of her victims. Like the guard that was leading the wagon.

The woman approached him. She couldn't help but be curious about the region. After all, Iranna had travelled a long road to be here.

"A little windy today, isn't it? Are you experienced with the region? I've been told we are not far from a dangerous place called White Plume Mountain. Have you ever been there?"

Truth be told, the mage did not expect to gather meaningful information from caravan guards, but there was nothing to do on the road and she might as well try. Who knew, maybe she'd get lucky.

---

 

Edited April 25, 2023 by TheShadyRaven (see edit history)

[prophane]

---

Location: Long and lonely road between Marsakeer and Rookroost
Date: Starday, First of Growfest (festival week)
Time: around noon
Weather: Cold, 42°, partly cloudy and light wind out of the southeast
Sunrise/set: just after 6am/ just before 6:30pm

---

"White Plume Mountain? Aye, yea, that be hundreds of leagues to the southwest, beyond the Rift Canyon. Nasty place, full o' dragons, and the undead, and shoot, even undead dragons if all the tales be heard," he scratches himself and spits on the ground. "What a nice girl like you want with the White Plume Mountain? Taking that little water sprite to toss into the smokin' crater atop it? I'd be half inclined to help ya do that!" he pauses and looks around. "Keep finding me boots wet each morning. I know its's yer little splashy demon doin' it, don' let me catch it in the act!" He wrings his hands together like squeezing water from a dish towel. "Say, you don't look like non'em folks 'round here. Where you from anyway? Ain't from the West, like Mistress Amira, so where's ya from? Me? I'm from here, from just outside of Rookroost, actually." He pauses for another moment, wipes his hands on his dirty jacket and stretches his hand out to shake Iranna's hand. "I be Clen. Clenden Morg, me momma callt me once upon a time. I sees what you do, summonin' that water up. That's a handy trick, I'd say. Mage, I take it? Don't see no holy signs hangin from ya, though round here, that's close to a death sentence if ya cross the wrong one, aye?"

 

Edited April 23, 2023 by prophane (see edit history)

[TheDragonOfFlame]

Kelarith, Warlock

---

STATISTICS

ST: 9 DX: 11 IQ: 13 HT: 10 HP: 12/12 FP: 10/10

---

DMG: 1d-2/1d-1 BL: 16 PER: 14 Basic Speed: 5.25 Dodge: 8 Basic Move: 5 Encumbrance: 16/32/48/96/160

---

Age: Adult Appearance: Average

---

Culture Familiarity:  Bandit Kingdoms Languages (Spoken): Common (Native), Suloise (Broken) Languages (Written): Common, Suloise (semi-literate)

---

Advantages: Blessed, Doesn't Sleep, Magery 0, Night Vision 2, Ritual Adept (Space), Ritual Adept (Time) Amulet

---

Disadvantages: Lame Hand, Secret, Skinny, Vow

---

Quirks: Dislikes Bright Light, Minor Addiction, Proud, Uncongenial, Unnatural Palour

---

Skills: Acting 13(+0), Area Knowledge (Bandit Kingdoms) 13(+0), Crossbow 13(+2), Detect Lies 12(-1), Filch 10(-1), First Aid/TL 3 13(+0), Hidden Lore (Magic Writings) 12(-1), Hiking 9(-1), Holdout 12(-1), Meditation 11(-2), Observation 12(-1), Occultism 13(+0), Riding 10(-1), Ritual Magic 16(+3), Scrounging 13(+0), Search 12(-1), Stealth 11(+0), Survival (Plains) 12(-1)

---

"Get off o' there!" A guardsman shouts, jabbing his staff at the pale, lanky man who had been attempting to hitch a ride on the bag of the wagon. Kelarith drops down off the wagon's rear with a sigh, taking back his place in the line of travelers. He wears a long, dark grey cloak, that almost—but not quite—hides his withered right arm from view; in kind, his long, dark hair, almost but not quite hides the extensive scarring up the left side of his neck and face. The pistol crossbow on his left hip, coupled with the light mail shirt visible from underneath the collar of his tunic, bespeak of a man attempting to appear a warrior, and yet his muscle-barren limbs, and the way he grunts under the weight of the mail, give way the ruse. 

Shooting a resentful look at the caravan guard, Kel slows his pace slightly, drifting further back in the caravan line. The trip had not been easy on him, as he was not a man built for long journeys under harsh suns, though of course he had faced worse. He comes within earshot of the foreign mage, engaging in conversation with a guardsman. 'White Plume Mountain? Surely she isn't thinking of going there...'  he thinks. 'Well, whatever may come of it, its her demise to choose.'

As he walks, he pulls the flask from his hip, grimacing as he sees how little is left. The bottle was watered down to the point of near flavorlessness after this long on the road, but it'd have to do until the group got to Rookroost. He takes a small sip, forcing himself to ration. There is still a long road ahead...

 

[SCARY WIZARD]

  

 

NESSIA

DESCRIPTION | THREAD

---

STATISTICS

ST: 10 DX: 10 IQ: 13 HT: 12 HP: 11/11 FP: 12/12

---

DMG: 1d+2/1d BL: 20 PER: 10 Basic Speed: 5.25 Dodge: 8 Basic Move: 5 Encumbrance: 20/40/60/120/200

---

Age: Adult Appearance: Attractive

---

Culture Familiarity: Ket (Native), Central Flanaess Languages (Spoken): Baklunish (Native), Common, Giant (Accented), Goblin (Accented), Orc (Accented) Languages (Written): Baklunish, Common

---

Advantages: Clerical Investment, Mind Control (Emotion Only), Power Investiture 3

---

Disadvantages: Discipline of Faith (Ritualism), Klutz, Odious Personal Habit (Finds Omens ALL OVER), Reduced Basic Speed (0.25), Sense of Duty (Large: Istus' Faithful)

---

Quirks: Broad-Minded, Careful, Minor Handicap (Sacroiliitis), Vow (Pay 10% of Income to Religious Affiliation)

---

Skills: Body Language 9, Brawling 10, Diplomacy 11, First Aid (TL 3) 13, Fishing 10, Fortune-Telling 13, Hiking 11, History 13, Knife 10, Meditation 11, Observation 10, Occultism 13, Religious Ritual 13, Staff 10, Survival (Plains) 9, Thrown Weapon 11

---

Spells: Analyze Magic 14, Armor 14, Aura 14, Awaken 14, Darkness 14, Death Vision 14, Foolishness 14, Forgetfulness 14, Identify Spell 14, Lend Energy 14, Lend Vitality 14, Light 14, Minor Healing 14, Recover Energy 14, Sense Spirit 14, Shield 14

---

 Tall and calm among the merchants and guards was a woman from the west who called herself "Nessia".  She was a friendly enough sort, but only to the extent that was warranted of any given interaction.  Even this friendliness had limits, however... especially where a certain water-sprite was concerned.  But, all that she could do was assure herself so: 'Ah, well, that's their nature.  I'm sure my own idiosyncracies must wear on them, to say nothing of others...'  What others might have gathered from her grey robe was that she was possibly a spellcaster of some sort, but likely little more.  The padded cloth armor beneath, as well as the daggers and knives on her person, and her staff suggested some skill at arms.  She was healthy-looking, striking... but not particularly brawny... she couldn't be a warrior-mage, or even a cleric!  Those types usually wore chain meshes, if not that strange armor called ring-mail.  Metal plates, if they were wealthy or lucky enough.  Well, whatever the case, Nessia was a spellcaster of some sort, tall and calm among the merchants and guards.

 

 Her attention was kept primarily on the horizons and surroundings as she walked.  This was not one of the more pleasant roads she had walked from Lopolla to any number of other places... and, it left just as bad a taste in her mouth as the one that led her to the Free City of Greyhawk, where she agreed to even go to this wretched place to begin with!  Her purpose was not necessarily the proselytization and thuggery of many adventuring priests such as herself, but rather the return of a missing person.  Walking into her current locale alone was foolish, if not lethal, and so she travelled with company... And, she did her absolute best to ingratiate herself to some of the most competent-looking of this company.

 

 To the competent-looking, but harshly rebuked fellow... was his name Kelarith?, she speaks.  "If you're in need of water, there's some in my skin." The vessel is offered.

[TheShadyRaven]

IRANNA | THREAD

---

STATISTICS

ST: 9 DX: 10 IQ: 14 HT: 12 HP: 9/9 FP: 9/9

---

DMG: 1d-2/1d-1 BL: 16 PER: 14 Basic Speed: 5.5 Dodge: 8.5 Basic Move: 5 Encumbrance: 16/32/48/96/160

---

Age: Adult Appearance: Beautiful

---

Culture Familiarity: Sea of Dust (Native), Bandit Kingdoms Languages (Spoken): Suloise (Native), Common (Accented) Languages (Written): Suloise, Common

---

Advantages: Ally (Familiar), Magery 3, Special Rapport (Familiar)

---

Disadvantages: Obsession (Magic), Overconfidence, Social Stigma (Minority Group - Outsider)

---

Quirks: Careful, Distinctive Features, Likes (Magic), Proud

---

Skills: Body Language 12, Dancing 10, Detect Lies 12, First Aid 14, Hidden Lore (Spirit Lore) 13, Hiking 11, Melee Weapon (Knife) 10, Naturalist 12, Occultism 13, Riding (Horse) 10, Ritual Magic (Genie Binding) 12, Survival (Desert) 14, Survival (Plains) 13, Symbol Drawing 12, Thaumatology 14.

---

Spells: Sense Foes [Communication and Empathy] 15, Detect Magic [Knowledge] 15, Light [Light and Darkness] 15, Foolishness [Mind Control] 15, Forgetfulness [Mind Control] 15, Shield [Protection and Warning] 15, Armor [Protection and Warning] 15, Seek Water [Water] 15, Purify Water [Water] 15, Create Water [Water] 15.

---

 

Iranna took a look over her shoulder, at the man whom the guard had unceremoniously threatened with a stuff. These northerners were so eager to sit down and rest! What kind of life was that? Soft and lazy.

She smiled at the thought of the guard trying to squeeze the maridan like a wet rag.

"I am aware that Khaleema can get on anyone's nerves. Still, it is her nature to be wild and playful. Her kind will always misbehave - they can't help but cause trouble."

The mage tapped her chin, considering what to say next.

"I will talk to her about your boots, but I suggest patience. In a few days she will be gone. You don't want to provoke her - you might find that an angry genie can do much more than a few jokes."

Conversation was just what Iranna was looking for. It let the mind run free, so much so that the monotonous hours of walking would be gone in a heartbeat.

"I am a mage, yes. I hail from the south: from a place very, very far away. I think you wouldn't like that very much - here it's good, with water, and grass, and trees..." - she gestured at the green plains, covered in vegetation.

The amount of water that could be found in the northern regions still made Iranna's head spin. She had seen tribes attack each other just to control a single well. Here, people threw water away like it was nothing. Perhaps they did not realize how important it was.

"I traveled for a long time to come here. I want to take the treasures of this White Plume Mountain of yours. Dragons, undeads... They will slow me down, but in the end, I will prevail."

The woman truly believed her claims. She had already accomplished many things that others claimed she'd not be able to. She had retrieved her most prized possession from the clutch of dusty ruins. She had traveled endless leagues just to be here. Dragons and undeads were lethal dangers, but she would find a way.

---

 

Edited April 25, 2023 by TheShadyRaven (see edit history)

[Caffeine11]

A tall figure dressed in what appeared to be leather armor and a hooded cloak appeared a couple hundred yards up the road.  As the caravan neared, most of the travelers would recognize him as one of the caravan guards.  This guard was a bit unusual in that he didn't seem to talk much and would often travel away from the group, either ahead or on a parallel track.  So far it seemed to work as they had been able to avoid any kind of trouble.

 

As he got even closer, the figure pulled back the hood of his cloak revealing a tanned face with a touch of bronze and cool grey eyes.  His hair was shoulder length, light brown and streaked with a bit of green pulled back into a short ponytail.   It was quickly apparent that he was half-elven.   His armor was hardened leather on his arms and legs with light scale covered with a thin layer of leather so muffle the sound of the scales.  He wore a well-crafted falchion on his left hip and a throwing axe on his right.

 

He stepped off the side of the road and waited for the wagon to pull closer.  When it went past, he fell in beside it so as to keep things moving.

 

"Amira, the road ahead looks to be clear for a good three hours worth of travel.   I found a small campsite off of the road but it had been cold for a while.  Looked to be 3 people and a mule or pack horse from the tracks.  Headed towards Rookroost.  I don't think that we will catch them today.", he reported, loud enough that any of the other guards close by could hear too.  He nodded to his fellow travelers.

Edited April 20, 2023 by Caffeine11 (see edit history)

[prophane]

---

Location: Long and lonely road between Marsakeer and Rookroost
Date: Starday, First of Growfest (festival week)
Time: just after noon
Weather: Cold, 42°, partly cloudy and light wind out of the southeast
Sunrise/set: just after 6am/ just before 6:30pm

---

"Good, that is good. It is always good to avoid other travelers out here on the road. You never know what trouble they may bring to you. In my youth, back in Ket, my parents would tell me of times when it was safe to travel the roads of the world and to hail and welcome any traveler you met, but those days did not exist in the Ket of my youth, nor anywhere on Oerth these days, isn't that right," she says, calling to Nessia. "What omens do you have for us this day?" She sniggers a bit and gives Arwi a soft elbow as she nods her head at her countrywoman. 

"Was this campsite up ahead a good campsite, or just a flat spot along the side of the road? Would it make sense to stop there a bit early for the night or shall we continue on, scout?"

Meanwhile, as the small band of folk continue onward, the strange little water spirit, Khaleema, continues to harass some of the travelers, but has turned its attention to bothering the horse tied to the back of the wagon.  

Edited April 21, 2023 by prophane (see edit history)

[Caffeine11]

Arwi gave a slight smile, but said nothing.  He figured that if wasn't worth irritating anyone who could summon a spirit, small as it was.  Besides, he had discovered that playing with it on occasion satisfied it's need for attention, so the mischievous spirit had started to leve him alone when he was busy with something.  There was no good reason to upset that balance.

 

Getting back to business, Arwi replied.  "No.  it's not worth stopping there.  Just a flat spot off the road in some tall grass.  No cover to hide the wagon there.  I'll head off again when we stop to rest the animals to see what I can find. "

Edited April 21, 2023 by Caffeine11 (see edit history)

[prophane]

---

Location: Long and lonely road between Marsakeer and Rookroost
Date: Starday, First of Growfest (festival week)
Time: around 2:00pm
Weather: Cold, 42°, more cloudy and moderate wind out of the southeast
Sunrise/set: just after 6am/ just before 6:30pm

---

Another hour and a half down the road and the small group had passed the place where Arwi had spotted the campsite. Not much to look at, just a flat spot in the grass with the remnants of a campfire. Passing by without stopping, the group continues.

A short while later, the sky darkens a bit, heavier now as more clouds roll in. The wind is picking up a bit, and smells of moisture. Most travelers pull their cloaks or robes just a little tighter around them. A low, pained wail picks up somewhere off to the left of the trail, getting louder and louder. It stops abruptly, then quietly at first, it starts again, building volume before once again ending. Looking in that direction, some carrion birds can be seen on the ground and flapping around in the air. A dark lump on the ground moves slightly, causing some of the birds to hop back quickly. It lets out its wail again. Something is out there, dying in the bush, about 50 yards or so, from the road.

The merchant woman, Amira, says to no one in particular, "Hmm, what do you think that is? One of those travelers?"

 

[TheDragonOfFlame]

Kelarith, Warlock

---

STATISTICS

ST: 9 DX: 11 IQ: 13 HT: 10 HP: 12/12 FP: 10/10

---

DMG: 1d-2/1d-1 BL: 16 PER: 14 Basic Speed: 5.25 Dodge: 8 Basic Move: 5 Encumbrance: 16/32/48/96/160

---

Age: Adult Appearance: Average

---

Culture Familiarity:  Bandit Kingdoms Languages (Spoken): Common (Native), Suloise (Broken) Languages (Written): Common, Suloise (semi-literate)

---

Advantages: Blessed, Doesn't Sleep, Magery 0, Night Vision 2, Ritual Adept (Space), Ritual Adept (Time) Amulet

---

Disadvantages: Lame Hand, Secret, Skinny, Vow

---

Quirks: Dislikes Bright Light, Minor Addiction, Proud, Uncongenial, Unnatural Palour

---

Skills: Acting 13(+0), Area Knowledge (Bandit Kingdoms) 13(+0), Crossbow 13(+2), Detect Lies 12(-1), Filch 10(-1), First Aid/TL 3 13(+0), Hidden Lore (Magic Writings) 12(-1), Hiking 9(-1), Holdout 12(-1), Meditation 11(-2), Observation 12(-1), Occultism 13(+0), Riding 10(-1), Ritual Magic 16(+3), Scrounging 13(+0), Search 12(-1), Stealth 11(+0), Survival (Plains) 12(-1)

---

Kel nods his thanks at the offer of water, taking a short draw, before handing it back. He considers the woman, taking in her light armor and calm demeanour. He had cast Aura Reading the first day of travel, and had not detected any magical talent in her, yet she had an air of confidence, despite not appearing. particularly physically capable, so he was still attempting to puzzle out her abilities. “You have my thanks. So, what business have you in Rookroost?”

…

Kel visibly startles at the creatures wailing, hand instinctively going to his crossbow. He draws the bow, moving further up towards the middle of the procession and standing on the road close to the creature, his curiosity warring with his sense of self preservation. Surely the caravan guards would take care of it, though. And it would be a shame to miss out on perhaps the only interesting event in the entire days journey.

OOC

The Previous Night’s Rituals:

Curse Mirror, skill 13, 20 minutes. 12:00 am, Kelarith retires to his sleeping area, set up in a sheltered area between two wagons, S hidden from the main area. He sets up three candles in a triangle, centred around a perfectly round circle of reflective glass. He begins to chant quietly under his breath, lighting the candles, and drawing runes in the dirt with charcoal taken from the fire. He takes a total of 1 hour for the ritual (+1), and specifies it to last for 1 day (-4). Possibly +1 for ashes (Thaumotology page 244), as they are used for disrupting harmful magic. Possibly +1 for mirror, though it may count as minimum Sympathy to avoid penalty. So, roll versus 10, 11, or 12 (GM discretion).

Ghost Shirt, skill 12, 1 hour. 3:00 am, Kelarith takes off his light mail shirt, and lays it in the area. He then begins the ritual, inscribing sigils of protection on the shirt with white chalk, supposedly made from bone dust. He takes three times the required time (+1), and wants the protection to last 12 hours (-3). At the culmination of the ritual, he shoots the shirt with a bolt from his crossbow. At GM discretion, there may be a +1 from the death relation of the bone-chalk, or a +1-+2 from the symbolism of shooting the chain shirt (or any other modifiers you want from the description). Roll against a 10, 11 or 12.

Looks like the Curse Mirror is up, and the Ghost Shirt is not. Those duration penalties are killing me.

 

Edited April 22, 2023 by prophane (see edit history)

[TheShadyRaven]

IRANNA | THREAD

---

STATISTICS

ST: 9 DX: 10 IQ: 14 HT: 12 HP: 9/9 FP: 9/9

---

DMG: 1d-2/1d-1 BL: 16 PER: 14 Basic Speed: 5.5 Dodge: 8.5 Basic Move: 5 Encumbrance: 16/32/48/96/160

---

Age: Adult Appearance: Beautiful

---

Culture Familiarity: Sea of Dust (Native), Bandit Kingdoms Languages (Spoken): Suloise (Native), Common (Accented) Languages (Written): Suloise, Common

---

Advantages: Ally (Familiar), Magery 3, Special Rapport (Familiar)

---

Disadvantages: Obsession (Magic), Overconfidence, Social Stigma (Minority Group - Outsider)

---

Quirks: Careful, Distinctive Features, Likes (Magic), Proud

---

Skills: Body Language 12, Dancing 10, Detect Lies 12, First Aid 14, Hidden Lore (Spirit Lore) 13, Hiking 11, Melee Weapon (Knife) 10, Naturalist 12, Occultism 13, Riding (Horse) 10, Ritual Magic (Genie Binding) 12, Survival (Desert) 14, Survival (Plains) 13, Symbol Drawing 12, Thaumatology 14.

---

Spells: Sense Foes [Communication and Empathy] 15, Detect Magic [Knowledge] 15, Light [Light and Darkness] 15, Foolishness [Mind Control] 15, Forgetfulness [Mind Control] 15, Shield [Protection and Warning] 15, Armor [Protection and Warning] 15, Seek Water [Water] 15, Purify Water [Water] 15, Create Water [Water] 15.

---

 

Iranna's first instinct at the unexpected noises had been to reach for her bag. Her spellbook had to be safe! The mage placed a hand on the package containing her belongings. She could feel the familiar volume of the tome under her palm, a fact that eased her mind in moments.

As for the wailings... Where was Khaleema? The empathic link the woman shared with the maridan had not given her any sense of danger. It meant her servant was not in trouble. Not for the first time, the mage felt glad that she did not need to keep an eye on the water gen at all times to know that she was fine.

Iranna remained nearby the cart, raising a hand in case she'd need to defend herself. The magementally went through her repertoire of mystical formulas. There were a few she could have used - if needed. Still, she suspected, the group was in for a surprise.

"Clenden..." - she called out, lowering her voice and taking a step forward. She reached for the guard's shoulder and shook her head.

"I could be wrong, but I think letting one of your colleagues investigate would be better - you said you don't like wet boots, no?"

Iranna did not want to spoil anyone's fun, but she felt the poor man could have used a break.

 The woman glanced at the others. Perhaps someone would have taken the initiative.

---

 

Edited April 22, 2023 by TheShadyRaven (see edit history)

[Caffeine11]

"Perhaps, but I don't see three people.  The other poor tossers could have been taken, along with the horse.   I'll check it out.",  Arwi replied, staring out at the field for a few seconds. 

Clen, stay here but be ready to back me up. Nerich Nidun, watch the other side of the road, it may be a trick", he instructed.  Looking over and seeing the man with the crossbow he said, "Be easy with that, watch over the group."

Arwi drew his throwing axe and hefted it a couple of times.  He looked out again towards the wailing and frowned as he started quietly walking into the grass beside the road.

 

OOCWalking towards the lump quietly. Throwing axe at the ready

[ROLL="Observation"]3d6u13z[/ROLL]

[ROLL="Stealth"]3d6u12z[/ROLL]

[ROLL="Naturalist"]3d6u10z[/ROLL]

Edited April 27, 2023 by prophane (see edit history)

[prophane]

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Location: Long and lonely road between Marsakeer and Rookroost
Date: Starday, First of Growfest (festival week)
Time: around 2pm
Weather: Cold, 42°, more cloudy and moderate wind out of the southeast
Sunrise/set: just after 6am/ just before 6:30pm

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As Arwi moves to go check the disturbance out, Clen takes a few deep breaths, looks at Iranna and winks.

"I don't think so, WeeWee. You back ME up, got it? I'm going to check it out,  keep an eye out for me." He turns to Iranna, "Don't you worry, dear, Old Clen is gonna sort all this out. Just a dying animal, no doubt, I'll go put it out of its misery. No worries at all." He grips the well-used sword hit at his belt and loosens it in the worn, black scabbard. "I'll be right back, don't worry," he says, clearly feigning bravery. 

He moves off the road and lopes across the relatively flat ground toward the wailing creature 50 paces away. Most of the carrion birds fly away at Clen's approach, but one of the larger ones hops in for one last attempt at lunch before Clen arrives. The approaching warrior shouts at the vulture and waves his arms, trying to get it to fly away. The bird ignores the caravan guard and goes in to get some flesh from the dying creature but apparently does not like what it finds. It squawks loudly several times and flies back in a frenzy of wings and feathers, landing three or four paces from the dark, dying shape.

Clen continues approaching and when he is within a few paces he pauses and turns back, yelling, "It's a dying mule. Oh, it's disgusting, covered in huge maggots, green worms, oh gross," he follows up with several gagging sounds. He covers his face with the edge of his cloak and draws his sword and steps toward the still moaning and wailing creature.

Clen then drops his sword and begins flailing about and screaming. He turns to run but trips over something and falls to the ground. "Arghhh, they're all over me, help!" Clen pleads as he crawls away from the dying mule. 

Those paying close attention to their surroundings notice that the nearby vulture also appears to be in some sort of distress. It hops around on the ground nearby, squawking and flapping its wings wildly.

 

Edited April 24, 2023 by prophane (see edit history)

[SCARY WIZARD]

NESSIA

DESCRIPTION | THREAD

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STATISTICS

ST: 10 DX: 10 IQ: 13 HT: 12 HP: 11/11 FP: 12/12

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DMG: 1d+2/1d BL: 20 PER: 10 Basic Speed: 5.25 Dodge: 8 Basic Move: 5 Encumbrance: 20/40/60/120/200

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Age: Adult Appearance: Attractive

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Culture Familiarity: Ket (Native), Central Flanaess Languages (Spoken): Baklunish (Native), Common, Giant (Accented), Goblin (Accented), Orc (Accented) Languages (Written): Baklunish, Common

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Advantages: Clerical Investment, Mind Control (Emotion Only), Power Investiture 3

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Disadvantages: Discipline of Faith (Ritualism), Klutz, Odious Personal Habit (Finds Omens ALL OVER), Reduced Basic Speed (0.25), Sense of Duty (Large: Istus' Faithful)

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Quirks: Broad-Minded, Careful, Minor Handicap (Sacroiliitis), Vow (Pay 10% of Income to Religious Affiliation)

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Skills: Body Language 9, Brawling 10, Diplomacy 11, First Aid (TL 3) 13, Fishing 10, Fortune-Telling 13, Hiking 11, History 13, Knife 10, Meditation 11, Observation 10, Occultism 13, Religious Ritual 13, Staff 10, Survival (Plains) 9, Thrown Weapon 11

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Spells: Analyze Magic 14, Armor 14, Aura 14, Awaken 14, Darkness 14, Death Vision 14, Foolishness 14, Forgetfulness 14, Identify Spell 14, Lend Energy 14, Lend Vitality 14, Light 14, Minor Healing 14, Recover Energy 14, Sense Spirit 14, Shield 14

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 Nessia begins to speak objectively in response to her countrywoman's inquiry, but then pauses... "Outlook hazy..." Her tone is dry, but there is a hint of humor in it.

 In response to Kel's inquiry, however, she is far less dry.  "Business, of a sort..."She looks forward, and sniffs at the air before continuing, seeming to consider things for a moment. "I have been asked to find someone."

 But then, a strange scene unfolds... Noises, and mules, and vultures, and carrion feeders, but not the ones she'd been taught to stay away from, smaller ones.  Was this Clen fellow Scoleciphobic?  Or was there something fouler at play...

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Out of Character - Actions

Nessia is going to make a Survival (Plains) roll, to see if she can't possibly iron out what those worms are... Or, at least, what they aren't.

 

 

 

Edited April 24, 2023 by prophane (see edit history)