Scarred Quest: Strength in Numbers 1/17/17 / DM: Mark

[Ellis Strata]

Scarred Grace: That doesn't bode well

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 4 93-sided dice: 55 72 70 78

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 46 poynts damage ~*~

SwordOfAtrophy: yay, might kill somebody today

Scarred Grace: now you won't

Brent Ironscale: Polishes his shield.

SwordOfAtrophy: --start quest state--

SwordOfAtrophy: OH Scarred Quest: "Strength in Numbers"

SwordOfAtrophy: Heroic Level

SwordOfAtrophy: Your leader is Mark.

SwordOfAtrophy: If you have questions please IM me or one of the Moderators.



SwordOfAtrophy: Estimated time is 3 hours from when we actually begin

roleplay.

SwordOfAtrophy: You can die on our adventures and it's my job to kill you,

nothing personal.

SwordOfAtrophy: Make sure your dossier is updated! If it's not on your

dossier you do not have it and this includes mundane gear.

SwordOfAtrophy: Remember when you first use something to tell me how you are



SwordOfAtrophy: able to use it, state all modifiers seperately - after that

you can merely state the numbers.

SwordOfAtrophy: Now state your info: Rank - Name - Class/Profession - Dice -



SwordOfAtrophy: Hit Points - Defense DC - Healing Points if applicable,

Flaws, AND WEAKNESSES. Self healing is yours to keep track of.

SwordOfAtrophy: Stating your teamwork skills so you know who has what would

also be a good idea.

SwordOfAtrophy: ---end state---

Scarred Grace: |[ Ceridwen Elensar || Sapphire Marshall ||

Support/Healer/Arcane || 2d66 || 47 HP || 11 DDC || 36 Healing Points ||

Blind, Distinctive, Lovesick(Silence) || Mutations: Big Ears, Albino, Blind,

Rune \

Scarred Grace: Fingerpints, Cat Tail, Fangs || Teamwork: Coordinated Attack

]|

Brent Ironscale: Brent Ironscale, Amber Shield, 2d58, Combat/Knight, DC=16,

HP=37(3 will, 3 End, 3 from CMs: will add them after state), Flaws: Burned,

Ill-Fortune, Code of Honor, No Teamwork, Weakness: Sonic: x1.5 dmg, Scarred

Flaws: Ashen Skin,

Brent Ironscale: Light Sensitivity

SwordOfAtrophy: "Silence" - Sapphire Shield - Combat/Swordmaster, Support -

2d68 - 38 HP (4 wlp) - 10 DDC - Weakness: Cold x2 - Flaws: Bad Seed, Grudge

Keeper (Ceridwen), Weapon Savant: Elven Courtblade - Teamwork: None

SwordOfAtrophy: Roll 1d20 Initiative, add all modifiers.

OnlineHost: Scarred Grace rolled 1 20-sided die: 14

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Scarred Grace scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

Scarred Grace: ( 14 )

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 1 20-sided die: 13

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

Brent Ironscale: CMs: The Art of War: +4 HP to 4 pcs: CM: Hard Knock Life:

+1 End for the adventure, hp=39, added wrong)

OnlineHost: Brent Ironscale rolled 1 20-sided die: 6

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Brent Ironscale scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

Brent Ironscale: +6 quick, -5 Knight Armor = 7

SwordOfAtrophy: (12 MR, -0 Armor Mastery = 25)

SwordOfAtrophy: Silence 0/38(10), Ceri 0/47 (11)(0/36), Brent 0/39 (16)

SwordOfAtrophy: Mistakes?

Scarred Grace: ( *thumbs up* )

SwordOfAtrophy: Silence 0/42 (10), Ceri 0/51 (11)(0/36), Brent 0/39 (16)

SwordOfAtrophy: Things had been eerily quiet on the Scarred front, after the

triple full moon. Many were worried that the new instance would make things

worse, but as the days went on, fears were abated when little

SwordOfAtrophy: seemed to have changed. But there was still no word on

Gerolt, the last of the six, and nothing from their mysterious antagonizer.

Days pass as normal, the rebuilding efforts going along well with the

SwordOfAtrophy: new trade routes established, whispers of another

civilization to the far north, one in the deep south, one west. All places

much more homely than Deathport. Expeditions are planned, but before any

SwordOfAtrophy: head out, a small boy runs up with a note. In an excited

voice he says he found it amongst Gerolts things, tucked into a corner so

small he almost missed it. It's a hastily scrawled note. "Nymir. Travel

SwordOfAtrophy: west until you come to the master oak, thirty steps south.

Look down."

SwordOfAtrophy: (Begin RP)

SwordOfAtrophy: ^v^ 1/16/2017 9:23:09 PM ^v^

SwordOfAtrophy: (brb)

Brent Ironscale: It was well past time he showed his face again to help with

more than just the rebuilding efforts around town. So it was the clomping

and clanging of his armored presence could be heard as he made his way to the

gate, seeking to

Scarred Grace: Ceridwen came out with freshly made bread for the boy as a

treat. A small roll that had been what was left of the dough but a treat

none-the-less for him for having brought the note. She was a little on the

weary side of a boy

Scarred Grace: bringing the message but she was sure it was mostly due to

the fact that she seemed to still be suspicious of everything. The blind elf

continued to use her walking stick slowly as she made her way over towards

where she could

Brent Ironscale: aid in one of the expeditions preparing to set out.

Happening upon the boy as he scampered up with the note, a grin sent Ceri's

way as he spoke to her. "Greetings, Ceri. Been some time. Found a lad to

shape and mold, hmm?" A

Scarred Grace: smell the stench known as Silence. "Unless Gerolt was nice

enough to leave it in tactis.. someone should probably mention what it says."

It was clear who she expected to speak up but then there was a voice she

hadn't heard since

Brent Ironscale: light chuckle accompanied his words as he eyed the boy and

the parchment he held. -d-

Scarred Grace: before the moons and that stick reached out to thwap the

steel covered man lightheartedly. "Have to keep myself amused somehow you

know. Especially after you disappeared and broke hearts all over Priviola."



Scarred Grace: Thumbing towards Silence's form. "That one's amusement

factor disappeared about six months after the flare."

Brent Ironscale: "Me? Break hearts?" Well, there was no point in feigning

ignorance with gestures and such, so he motioned the lad to come over so he

could take the paper and read it aloud, making sure the info it held was

passed on. "The master

Brent Ironscale: oak? Hmm . . . seems worth checking out."

Scarred Grace: "Yes well mine especially." She was teasing him to welcome

him back and then tilted her head so one ear was pointed in his direction as

he spoke the words. She made a noise and then turned back towards the bar so

that she could

SwordOfAtrophy: "You speak as though I had amusement factor to begin with,

Miss Ceridwen." Silence was listening to both a report from a patrolee and

what Brent was reading. He dismissed the man, informing him to return when

they had more positive

SwordOfAtrophy: proof of what he reported in. "If it's the only lead we

have, then we should check it out. At worst, we waste a day. Maybe we'll find

something good."

Scarred Grace: find the bag she kept near the door for quick departures.

Her pale fingers slipping along the scarred wood easily enough. "You act as

if you didn't know I was enjoying your discomfort in the early days.. in

between moments of

Scarred Grace: flight and fright." Gracefully she dropped down to a crouch

and grasped the bag with her supplies and then she was up again. Pulling out

the goggles she wore over her blind eyes. "Let's head out then." Her tone

to Silence as if

Brent Ironscale: A slight shake of his head as he listened to the

familiarity of the two of them, chuckling softly as he moved to grab his pack

from where he kept it, adding a couple skins of water and a couple torches.

"It's good to be back. Even

Scarred Grace: to say why wasn't he going already. Besides.. anything was

better than sitting in the kitchen for another couple of hours, maybe one of

them would get hurt and she could hold over them how useful she really was.

Not likely.. but

Brent Ironscale: better to see you both. It will definitely good to swing

something more than a hammer into nails, for certain." -d-

Scarred Grace: it was amusing to think.

SwordOfAtrophy: "Yes, Mistress." He played along with her tone of course,

staying close so she could grab the little tether rope she liked to use. Then

it was off through the desert, west until they found the great oak.

SwordOfAtrophy: The boy leads the group to the charred stump of what was a

massive oak tree, the only remaining symbol of there having been a forest

there. Once his job is finished, the boy takes back off for town.

SwordOfAtrophy: The sun beats down, as it normally does, though there's a

refreshing breeze on the air somehow.

Brent Ironscale: A light clacking of his teeth given as he settled his scarf

in place, making sure it was tied tight before checking the strap of his

goggles, then checking the rest of his gear as he fell in step with the two

of them. As the

Scarred Grace: Her hand gripped at his leash so that she wouldn't get lost

in the wasteland, at least not today. Tucking the material around her head

as they finally went out into their new homeland. Fanged teeth working at

her lower lip a

Brent Ironscale: approached the oak, he couldn't help but smile despite the

lack of any other presence of trees. "Amazing, that it still stands." Light

placing a gauntleted hand on the trunk, he walked a slow circle around it

until he arrived back

Brent Ironscale: at the point he started. "Thirty steps south . . .

according to the note, then we look down." -d-

Scarred Grace: little as they drew closer to the oak. The tip of one ear

feeling the breeze before she covered it once again out of the sun's glare.

Then as if an afterthought, she reached out to grasp at Brent's arm as he

came back around. The

Scarred Grace: leash on Silence's belt dropped so that she could grasp one

of his wrists as well and both men would feel the brush of her mind. Silence

was far more used to it but she didn't push if Brent didn't want her to.

With those that

SwordOfAtrophy: Silence walked along, keeping an easy pace until they

reached their destination. He had to agree that it was a little miraculous

the desert hadn't gotten to this tree yet, but soon. Silence gazed up at the

sky. "South is..

Scarred Grace: allowed it, she telepathically sealed the bond into a three

way connection between them if it worked at all. (Spell: Telepathic Bond |

Rolling for it)

SwordOfAtrophy: that way." Arm raised to point to his right.

SwordOfAtrophy: Okay

OnlineHost: Scarred Grace rolled 1 100-sided die: 97

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Scarred Grace scored 23 poynts damage ~*~

SwordOfAtrophy: Success.

Scarred Grace: Her voice was lighter in their heads as she chuckled. In

case we need to be silent..

Brent Ironscale: A gentle pat given to Ceri's right hand as she took hold of

his wrist, feeling the intrusion but recognizing it for what it was, he

allowed Ceri' to work her spell. A nod given to her, his teeth clacking a

moment as he worked his

Brent Ironscale: jaw. Quite the handy little trick. A nod given then as he

heard Silence, looking to see the direction he pointed towards. "Well . . .

not much to do but to take a look, I guess. Shall we?" He'd wait for Ceri

to get situated to

Brent Ironscale: walk with Silence again, making sure that she and Silence

were both ready before he would make to head that way, keeping his pace even

as he counted off the paces they took. -d-

Scarred Grace: Her fingers slid away from them both as soon as she no longer

needed to be touching them. The touch always helped forge the connection a

little better and soon she was sliding a finger along Silence's side to find

her leash once

Scarred Grace: more. I've gotten better.. "Yes let's see if there is

anything fun. Hopefully looking down doesn't provide an invisible bridge

view or something drastic."

SwordOfAtrophy: Ceri in his head was nothing new, she often practiced with

him in the early days to get a better handle on her abilities. Once they were

moving again, he let Brent try to find the entrance while he focused looking

around for enemies

SwordOfAtrophy: that might be lurking. "You know it's going to be an

interesting time when she is looking for fun, fair warning."

SwordOfAtrophy: Search it up.

OnlineHost: Brent Ironscale rolled 1 20-sided die: 19

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Brent Ironscale scored 1 poynts damage ~*~

Scarred Grace: [ Listen? ]

SwordOfAtrophy: Go for it

OnlineHost: Scarred Grace rolled 1 20-sided die: 4

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Scarred Grace scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

Brent Ironscale: +5 Investigator, -3 Light Sensitivity with goggles = 21)

Scarred Grace: ( +5 big ears, + 1 Ring of the Five Survivals, +4 wild spirit

= 14 )

SwordOfAtrophy: Brent discovers a cast iron door, flat underneath the sand.

A hidden entrance to something that once stood here. The lock is pretty much

a rusted hulk and comes apart without much effort, showing a ladder dropping

down into darkness

SwordOfAtrophy: below.

SwordOfAtrophy: The crest on the door is super faded, but it says Nymir.

Brent Ironscale: Taking his time to be careful with not marring anything on

the door, he wrenched the lock free and pointed out the crest to Silence.

"Seems certain we've found the place. Unless there's another entrance we are

unaware of, it's

Scarred Grace: Her head canted to the side a few times as she listened for

what could be anything. Hearing what sounded like metal being found, she

paused. Ceridwen taking a moment to seek out anything else that could be

heard by her working

Brent Ironscale: probably safe to say we got here before Gerolt." Eyeing

the ladder they were to descend, he returned his gaze over to Silence once

more. "Not sure how sturdy that ladder's going to be. Want me to go first?

I could probably catch

Brent Ironscale: you both if it's needed."

Scarred Grace: senses. "The wind is playing tricks with me or our

destination has working machinery. I can't tell.." Then she realized they

were going down. "You know.. one day I'll remember how to fly."

SwordOfAtrophy: "Given that it's apparently some type of secondary entrance,

well hidden, I would figure it's not the only one, but who knows." He studied

the ladder, even grasping the top rung. "Go ahead, if it holds for you, it'll

probably hold

SwordOfAtrophy: for us too. Just be careful."

Brent Ironscale: A slight nod given as he took a moment to adjust the straps

of his weapons and his shield, making sure none were loose. Situating

himself at the lip of the opening, he eased himself onto the ladder, making

sure he had a good grip

SwordOfAtrophy: He knew better than to question her hearing. "Let me know if

it gets louder, Ceri."

Brent Ironscale: on the rungs, keeping one hand on the opening of the drop

before letting his full weight shift to the ladder. Giving it a moment to

see that it held, he carefully began making his way down once he was sure of

its integrity. -d-

SwordOfAtrophy: The ladder protests those walking down it, but holds up.

This seems to be some back entrance to the old fort, seemingly out of use

even before the scarring. Once the door is closed the room is dark,

SwordOfAtrophy: though there are outlines of torch sconces in the wall that

can be lit to provide actual light. Two doors on the left. One is blocked by

rubble of stone and earth (to 14), the other is a simple wooden

SwordOfAtrophy: door (to 9). A door on the left is there, though it is

locked, by a steel bolt. Thankfully, the bolt is on your side of the door.

Scarred Grace: "If I hear it again, I will." She waited for her turn to

climb down into the darkness, not that she minded. Despite the skirt and her

blindness, she moved easily though a tad slower than someone who would have

been able to see the

Scarred Grace: other rungs. Her tail making one of it's rare appearances as

it stretched out to give her balance all the way down and then disappeared

back into her wraps. Ears constantly searching for another sound that might

help them.

SwordOfAtrophy: He brought up the rear, tugging the door closed to block out

some of the heat and the light from above and hide the entrance from any of

the nasty creatures that prowled the scarred lands. "If you need light,

Brent, go ahead and

SwordOfAtrophy: grab one of those wall torches."

Brent Ironscale: He made sure to take the time while there was still light

from the open door to catch a flame to one of the torches he'd brought. A

nod given to Silence as he noticed the sconces finally, pulling down his

scarf and lifting his

Brent Ironscale: goggles to rest on his forehead. "Hmm, won't hurt to grab

a couple extra, just in case." He'd nod to that, grabbing a couple and

stowing them in his pack for the time being. "Seems to be a door here we can

use, locked from our

Brent Ironscale: side. Here's hoping it won't take a clamour to get it

unbolted and opened." He shifted the lit torch to his left hand after

getting his shield settled on his arm, making his way to the door and testing

the slide on the bolt,

Brent Ironscale: getting ready to unlock and open the door once Ceri and

Silence were situated and ready to move on.

SwordOfAtrophy: Silence took a moment, gazing about the room, his soldier's

mind cataloguing and creating a mental 3D map that he shared with the two of

them via Ceri's magic. He nodded, moving to watch the other doors as Brent

opened the metal one

Scarred Grace: A door locked on their side wasn't always a good thing but

again she was aware that she was suspicious and paranoid. The wraps that

had been around her head was taken off to allow her to better hear, letting

them drape about her

Scarred Grace: neck and shoulders easily as she waited. The staff that had

been tucked along her back, grasped to allow her to walk without the men

worrying about her having to hang on.

SwordOfAtrophy: This room has the look of a small armory, with old armor

stands and weapon racks lining the walls. It appears as though anything of

use has been long scavanged. Off to the right is a metal circular

SwordOfAtrophy: staircase, that used to lead up to the perimiter patrol

walkway, but the sand has since collapsed the stairs, leaving nothing more

than rubble, and the faintest traces of sunlight creeping in. An

SwordOfAtrophy: archway across from the stairs, a door on the wall to the

left as you enter.

SwordOfAtrophy: 12

Brent Ironscale: His torch held high to provide as much light as possible,

he led the way into the room, taking his time to get a feel for what this

place was meant for. "Definitely not the first ones here, just the first in

some time I'd guess."

Brent Ironscale: There was only the faintest of hints that Brent wasn't a

fan of underground dungeons, but he blamed it on his dragon ancestry and

pushed on, taking a circuit around the room to ensure nothing was missed.

Scarred Grace: She waited for the men to catalogue their path a little

better as she followed and moved towards the center of the room with her head

canted a little as she attempted to use her ears since her eyes were useless

at the moment.

Scarred Grace: (Listen?)

SwordOfAtrophy: "No, this was a fort of some kind. Many places like this

became refuges in the first days after the blast..." He moved around, towards

the northern door, spying down the long hallway.

SwordOfAtrophy: Go for it

OnlineHost: Scarred Grace rolled 1 20-sided die: 10

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Scarred Grace scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

Scarred Grace: ( +10 = 20 )

Scarred Grace: Her head canted a little and she moved closer towards the

sound where she found Brent. Then she decided it might be best to reach out

the other way. Whispers coming from that direction. Using her staff lifted

and the head of it

Scarred Grace: angled towards the archway that was across from the broken

down staircase (3). I cannot make them out though.

Brent Ironscale: He'd nod as he processed the information Ceri shared,

looking between her and Silence, taking advantage of Ceri's spell to "voice"

his thoughts. "Do we want to find a path to the voices? I must warn you,

they'll likely hear me

Brent Ironscale: coming."

SwordOfAtrophy: "If they are whispering, it's likely they know we're here

already. So it's communicate or combat."

Scarred Grace: What bothers me is that it's more than one person. Surprise

is no longer on either side but I say we press on to figure out where we were

sent. Ceri moved to lean against the wall near the archway as the boys

usually took the lead.

Scarred Grace: Letting the blind girl go first was always a bad idea.

Brent Ironscale: He was prepared for it to lead them to combat, but he was

never one to mind not needing to fight. Should the situation lead them to

it, he'd be content with a non-combative solution. As it was, he just

shrugged and flashed a

Brent Ironscale: metallic, toothy grin. Still, he spoke to their minds

rather than aloud. "Given that this door seals from the hallway, I'd rather

not be stuck in here should they set to searching. Onward it is, then." A

slight nod given to no

Brent Ironscale: one in particular before turning back out the door they

came in from. With the map that Silence shared, he backtracked a little,

moving to investigate the door leading to room 9. He'd much rather know more

of what these two were a

Brent Ironscale: about*, or more if there were actually more than the two

voices Ceri had heard. A test given to the door to see if it would open or

not. -d-

Scarred Grace: Ceri heard her two heavy footed companions backtrack the way

they had come and moved to follow them while keeping her senses on alert for

a change in anything. Though just as she finished going back into their

first room, she

Scarred Grace: tugged on the door to close it behind it as gently as she

could. Thinking it might be good to set the bolt back the way they had found

it unless they stopped her from doing so.

SwordOfAtrophy: The whispers trailed away as Ceri closed the big metal door.

Apparently whoever it was, didn't wish to interact with them any more than

the group did.

SwordOfAtrophy: As a fort, there was bound to be a warroom, and this was

once it. A long table was in the middle, half of which has been collapsed.

The half of the table has worn maps, covered in dirt and dust, from

SwordOfAtrophy: before the scarring. Tomes sit across the table, stacked and

numerous. A door rests about halfway down the left wall. Opposite it was a

fireplace, long since out of use.

SwordOfAtrophy: Silence took one look at the room, spied the door and shook

his head, choosing to whisper. "I'm betting that door is going to lead us

towards those voices anyway. Best tread carefully."

Scarred Grace: She wasn't too keen on having them try to slip around behind

them especially since she might not notice the shadows creeping up on her

person. Moving into the new room, Ceri took slow stock as she moved around

with staff in hand

Brent Ironscale: A slight nod given as he stepped into the room, keeping his

voice light and soft as he whispered to the two of them, or started to

anyway. The clacking of his teeth was louder than his words, and he kept to

the thought-speak.

Brent Ironscale: "Damn metal teeth. Either of you know anything about this

place specifically?"

Scarred Grace: touching this and that, wondering if any of the literature

was still useful that it might be salvaged for their own purposes. Then she

cocked her head to the side and tried to listen out for anything else that

was within the

Scarred Grace: crumbled halls. ( Listen check and/or Untrained knowledge

check maybe? )

SwordOfAtrophy: "Hmmm..." (Approximate Understand, mimicing Knowledge:

Kir'viir)

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 1 20-sided die: 7

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

SwordOfAtrophy: (17)

OnlineHost: Scarred Grace rolled 1 20-sided die: 12

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Scarred Grace scored 0 poynts damage ~*~"

Scarred Grace: [ + 10 int = 22 ]

SwordOfAtrophy: "Nymir.. a training fort. This is where they send soldiers

too for advanced survival training, that's why most of it is underground."

SwordOfAtrophy: One of the books, resonated when Ceri touched it, reacting

to her glyphy fingertips. Definitely something special about it.

Scarred Grace: I remember rumors about this place. Yes it was a training

fort but it had been shut down prior to the Scarring because some of the

instructors were abusing their trainees to death. Her nose wrinkled and she

continued to circle

Brent Ironscale: Taking the time to view some of the maps, gauging their

conditions, he did his best to remember to come back and grab anything that

might be of use. Old maps were handy, especially when trying to set up trade

routes. Never know

Scarred Grace: about until she felt the book resonate.. if she does it.. it

could hurt. She did it anyway and lifted it up. Can someone come look at

this book for me? ( Do I need to roll for it? )

Brent Ironscale: what would be of use there. As Ceri and Silence shared the

info they had on Nymir he paused in his perusings, giving his attention

completely to them, moving over to Ceri and asking for the book so he could

assist her with its

Brent Ironscale: contents.

SwordOfAtrophy: The contents of the book were written in cypher, but the

front indicated it was a teleporter manual. A phrase that would mean little

to those who didn't know what they knew.

SwordOfAtrophy: Silence gathered the maps, rolling them and carefully

tucking them away. One thing he made sure to do was grab what was carryable

while he had the chance. These would do no good if they got left because they

were chased out.

Brent Ironscale: "Some odd sort of cypher . . . though it is a teleporter

manual." He tried making heads or tails of the cypher but only ended up

shaking his head. "Think it's something to do with that teleportation device

we found way back when?"

Brent Ironscale: -d-

Scarred Grace: A fort of old trainees using a system that we had used in

hidden arms caches.. Yes Brent I do. She gave him a smile and one of her lids

winked at him even if she wasn't looking in his direction then her fingers

reached for it.

Scarred Grace: I'll tuck it into my bag for now. At least something came of

this trip.. She wouldn't snatch from him but she did open her bag if he

wanted to put it in there himself. A cypher would be fun games for some of

the people back home.

Scarred Grace: It was the scarred lands.. you took what you could for

entertainment.

SwordOfAtrophy: He moved to the door, opening it slowly, realizing that it

was a left moving hallway. He frowned. Mentally, more was added to the map in

his head, the distance of the hall appearing. "This.. is going to lead right

to where we

Brent Ironscale: He'd nod and flash a toothy grin at her wink before making

sure she had a firm grip on the book before he released it from his hands.

"How good do you think the odds are that there's one here?" He was nervous

for what that could

SwordOfAtrophy: avoided."

Scarred Grace: Then it's fate. The book was tucked away into her bag and

she moved to step closer to Silence. Listening out for any indication that

they might have visitors in the hallway or beyond. Scared Silence?

Brent Ironscale: mean for them all, turning his attention over to Silence

then. "I'm up for suggestions. I'm thinking with my testosterone right now,

wanting to get any conflicts out of the way."

Brent Ironscale: -d-

Scarred Grace: She knew he wasn't but it was a favorite pasttime to poke fun

at him. Besides it might remind him that they had been up against other

things in the past and that as long as they faced them, nothing horribly

wrong had occured yet.

Scarred Grace: -f-

SwordOfAtrophy: "You know the only thing I fear is your temper. And being

smothered at night by your... nevermind. Let's go see." You never knew until

you knew. So he started off down the hallway.

Brent Ironscale: He was going to bust a gut about that later, having a good

idea of what the "nevermind" was. For now, he schooled his face and brought

up the rear, making sure Ceri was between himself and Silence. Odds were

good she'd hear

Brent Ironscale: someone coming up on them before he would, but he

definitely stood a better chance at surviving a knife in the back than she.

-d-

Scarred Grace: If he hadn't started off down the hallway, he would have

gotten hit with her staff. She'd smother him with her temper and a pillow

when he slept next time. There was only a slight fume to her demeanor as she

slipped behind him.

Scarred Grace: Smothered by her indeed...

SwordOfAtrophy: He poked back!

SwordOfAtrophy: Listen if you wish.

Scarred Grace: ( I do )

OnlineHost: Scarred Grace rolled 1 20-sided die: 15

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Scarred Grace scored 1 poynts damage ~*~

Scarred Grace: ( + 10 = 25 )

Scarred Grace: Three voices.. some grunting a bit.. conversation is varying

but I think they're moving rubble.

SwordOfAtrophy: He stopped at the door, looking back at the two of them.

"Everyone ready for a hard entry?"

Brent Ironscale: He'd take a moment and unsnap the crossguard on his

scabbards, making sure each blade would be ready to draw, his hand resting on

the pommel of his thinblade as he gave a quick nod to Silence at his

question. Teeth bared as he

Brent Ironscale: readied for a fight, taking up position to enter the door

and nodding once more to the door. "Ready as I'm gonna be." -d-

SwordOfAtrophy: Carefully drawing the courtblade so it didn't touch Ceri, he

reached out with a foot and kicked the door opened.

Scarred Grace: After the comment he had made about her nevermind, he was

lucky she didn't laugh outright when he asked about a hard entry but she gave

him a quick nod of her head and tried to get her gutter mind right back where

it belonged while

Scarred Grace: they prepared to get through the door to go after the others.



SwordOfAtrophy: The door stands closed, upon opening it are three men, each

dressed in black robes, a crest of some sort on their cloaks. They turn,

surprised by your presence, but quickly draw pairs of gleaming

SwordOfAtrophy: shortswords. Each dripping with green ichor. "I knew it

couldn't have been Junda. Let's get them quick. But.. keep the female alive..

those juggs will fetch a king's ransom at the market."

Scarred Grace: She was going to start wearing a sheet over her head like a

ghost in weird human tales. "Excuse you.." The fuming she'd been doing

towards Silence was instantly transferred to the voice.

SwordOfAtrophy: Port Slaver 1 0/?? (17), Silence 0/42 (10), Ceri 0/51

(11)(0/36), Port Slaver 2 0/?? (17), Brent 0/39 (16), Port Slaver 3 0/??

(17)

SwordOfAtrophy: -Slaver 1-

Brent Ironscale: At hearing their words, and seeing what he could only

assume were poison-tipped weapons, he let a low grumble resonate from deep

within his throat, wisps of a cool vapor seemed to dance around his nose and

lips as he breathed.

SwordOfAtrophy: "Excuse me nothin.. gotta make a livin somehow." The leader

of them moved to the first man through the door, taking a couple poisoned

swipes.

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 1 20-sided die: 4

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

SwordOfAtrophy: +7 qck, +3 DP = 14, hit

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 2 60-sided dice: 19 44

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 7 poynts damage ~*~

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 2 5-sided dice: 1 2

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

SwordOfAtrophy: 10 + 7 dex fighter + 4 DWF + 3 DP = 24

SwordOfAtrophy: Draco worm mail +21, hair shirt +2 = 23 def

SwordOfAtrophy: A whole 1 damage + sleep poison DC:15 or become drowzy, then

fatigued, then asleep

SwordOfAtrophy: (Immunity to Sleep)

SwordOfAtrophy: Port Slaver 1 0/?? (17), Silence 1/42 (10), Ceri 0/51

(11)(0/36), Port Slaver 2 0/?? (17), Brent 0/39 (16), Port Slaver 3 0/??

(17)

SwordOfAtrophy: -Silence-

SwordOfAtrophy: Scratched, the poison seeped in, but Silence being partly an

elf ignored it. The man didn't seem surprised, but he had little time to

worry about that when the wound closed.. (Ring of Regen), and then Silence

brought the courtblade

SwordOfAtrophy: up to try and cleave him from balls to eyeballs. Because it

would be funny.

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 1 4-sided die: 3

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 1 20-sided die: 19

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 1 poynts damage ~*~

SwordOfAtrophy: 12 Str, Power attack + 3 dance parter = 34

SwordOfAtrophy: Hit

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 2 68-sided dice: 12 41

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 6 poynts damage ~*~

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 2 8-sided dice: 8 6

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

SwordOfAtrophy: 20 + 12 Str + 6 2Hweapon + 3 DP = 41

SwordOfAtrophy: 16 def = 25 damage

SwordOfAtrophy: Port Slaver 1 25/30 (17), Silence 0/42 (10), Ceri 0/51

(11)(0/36), Port Slaver 2 0/?? (17), Brent 0/39 (16), Port Slaver 3 0/??

(17)

SwordOfAtrophy: -Ceri-

Scarred Grace: Ceridwen narrowed her eyes towards the voice as she stayed

out of the way of both boys with their blades. Though the man had earned her

ire now and they might all pay for it but unfortunately for the little blind

psion it took a

Scarred Grace: moment for her to connect with the others on the field of

battle. Her senses reaching out to touch the minds of the others so that she

could find them no matter where they moved. (Spell: Mental Battlefield |

Combat Effect for One

Scarred Grace: Combat, Allows Combat | Rolling for Scarred Lands magic roll

)

OnlineHost: Scarred Grace rolled 1 100-sided die: 9

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Scarred Grace scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

Scarred Grace: ( Ha! rofl. Failure) Now she's really pissed.

SwordOfAtrophy: -pets-

SwordOfAtrophy: -Slaver 2-

SwordOfAtrophy: When Ceri made herself visible from the door, the man

stopped to lob a small blob of the same kind of sleep poison at her. If it

hit, it would burst and put her to sleep immediately. (DC: 15 to resist)

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 1 20-sided die: 13

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

SwordOfAtrophy: (20) Hit

Scarred Grace: ( Immunity to Sleep ) "Did he just.. I'm an elf! You don't

throw slime at me!"

Brent Ironscale: He was a bit rusty, but he'd have time to lament on that

later. He had no Elf heritage, so hopefully his Draconic heritage would

provide similar effects. It mattered not, they were attacking his allies . .

. and more importantly,

Brent Ironscale: his friends.

SwordOfAtrophy: "I figured.. Juggs too hot to be anything but an elf. Maybe

sleep poison wasn't a great idea."

SwordOfAtrophy: -Brent-

Brent Ironscale: Moving to cut down the distance, PS2 would be intercepted,

dropping the torch as he closed the distance and rammed his shield in a

backhand smash into the slaver's temple. A quick step taken back as he drew

his blade before lunging

Brent Ironscale: forward, aiming to pierce the slaver's heart as he snapped

the thinblade up and out in a precise strike(Dex Fighter, Dual Wield, Shield

Weapon, Sword and Board and activating Bastion of Strength - double rank di

on hit).

OnlineHost: Brent Ironscale rolled 1 20-sided die: 17

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Brent Ironscale scored 1 poynts damage ~*~

Brent Ironscale: (+6 quick = 23, throwing up Pillar for saves also, forgot

to add that)

SwordOfAtrophy: Hit

OnlineHost: Brent Ironscale rolled 4 58-sided dice: 24 29 28 38

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Brent Ironscale scored 13 poynts damage ~*~

Brent Ironscale: (Thinblade, nothing fancy on it)

OnlineHost: Brent Ironscale rolled 1 6-sided die: 1

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Brent Ironscale scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

Brent Ironscale: (Heavy Steel Shield, also nothing fancy)

OnlineHost: Brent Ironscale rolled 1 8-sided die: 5

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Brent Ironscale scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

Brent Ironscale: (+6 quick: Dex Fighter, +10 Sword and Board = 35 dmg)

SwordOfAtrophy: 16 def = 19 damage

SwordOfAtrophy: Port Slaver 1 25/30 (17), Silence 0/42 (10), Ceri 0/51

(11)(0/36), Port Slaver 2 19/?? (17), Brent 0/39 (16), Port Slaver 3 0/??

(17)

SwordOfAtrophy: -Slaver 3-

SwordOfAtrophy: Since the one they were after was immune to sleep, attacking

her in any way was pointless, they needed to kill her guard dogs and then

subdue her. So the man brought his two swords to bear against Brent, ready to

hack and chop.

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 1 20-sided die: 9

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

SwordOfAtrophy: 19, hit

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 2 60-sided dice: 50 36

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 13 poynts damage ~*~

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 2 5-sided dice: 2 1

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

SwordOfAtrophy: 16 + 14 = 30 damage

Brent Ironscale: Brent twisted and moved with the strikes, making sure they

landed on the harder surfaces of his armor as he withstood the blows.

(Wasteland's Knight Armor: +32 DEF)

SwordOfAtrophy: I'll damage him sometime. 0 damage

SwordOfAtrophy: Port Slaver 1 25/30 (17), Silence 0/42 (10), Ceri 0/51

(11)(0/36), Port Slaver 2 19/?? (17), Brent 0/39 (16), Port Slaver 3 0/??

(17)

SwordOfAtrophy: -Slaver 1-

SwordOfAtrophy: Cut deeply, the guy flew into a bit of a rage, his dreams of

making a retirable fortune off the sale of one pale busty elf slipping away.

He flung himself at Silence, trying to turn him into a kabob. (Vital Strike,

dbl roll)

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 1 20-sided die: 5

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

SwordOfAtrophy: 15, hit

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 4 60-sided dice: 51 46 43 20

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 23 poynts damage ~*~

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 2 5-sided dice: 3 5

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

SwordOfAtrophy: 31 + 14 = 45 damage

SwordOfAtrophy: (Quickstep - Evade) Silence wasn't having any of that, anger

lead to blind moves, and well.. you usually ended up dead after that. Case in

point.

SwordOfAtrophy: Port Slaver 1 25/30 (17), Silence 0/42 (10), Ceri 0/51

(11)(0/36), Port Slaver 2 19/?? (17), Brent 0/39 (16), Port Slaver 3 0/??

(17)

SwordOfAtrophy: -Silence-

SwordOfAtrophy: He let the man dash by him in his skewer attempt, and before

the slaver could turn around, he neatly drove a blade through neck, and

severed his head, like popping a dandelion.

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 1 20-sided die: 13

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

SwordOfAtrophy: 28

SwordOfAtrophy: Hit

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 2 68-sided dice: 16 5

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 1 poynts damage ~*~

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 2 8-sided dice: 8 8

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

SwordOfAtrophy: 17 + 21 = 38 damage

SwordOfAtrophy: And a headless slaver...

SwordOfAtrophy: Port Slaver 1 47/30 (17), Silence 0/42 (10), Ceri 0/51

(11)(0/36), Port Slaver 2 19/?? (17), Brent 0/39 (16), Port Slaver 3 0/??

(17)

SwordOfAtrophy: -Ceri-

Scarred Grace: ( Reflective Direction - Brent ) Ceri moved out of the way

of the men coming her way. Brent.. now is the time to strike..

SwordOfAtrophy: -Brent-

Brent Ironscale: A quick nod given Ceri's way as she spurred him on to

finish the deed. Unrelenting in his focus, he ducked under the reach of

Slaver 3 to press the attack on 2. A quick series of thrusts sent Slaver 2's

way before putting all his

Brent Ironscale: weight behind his attack, aiming for his chest with his

blade, a half-step taken back to ring the fool's skull soundly with his

shield.

OnlineHost: Brent Ironscale rolled 1 20-sided die: 20

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Brent Ironscale scored 2 poynts damage ~*~

SwordOfAtrophy: Critical Hit

OnlineHost: Brent Ironscale rolled 2 58-sided dice: 4 31

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Brent Ironscale scored 4 poynts damage ~*~

Brent Ironscale: (Hah! 8 from that!)

OnlineHost: Brent Ironscale rolled 1 6-sided die: 6

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Brent Ironscale scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

OnlineHost: Brent Ironscale rolled 1 8-sided die: 7

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Brent Ironscale scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

Brent Ironscale: (+16 = 37 dmg)

SwordOfAtrophy: Not only was his bell rung, but it was caved in. 2 dead

slavers.

SwordOfAtrophy: Silence 0/42 (10), Ceri 0/51 (11)(0/36), Brent 0/39 (16),

Port Slaver 3 0/?? (17)

SwordOfAtrophy: -Brent, his actual turn-

Brent Ironscale: Leaving his blade stuck in the chest of Slaver 2, he turned

towards Slaver 3, drawing his Feveriron Bastard Sword with his right as he

advanced. Closing the short distance quickly, he charged in shield-first,

using the momentum to

Brent Ironscale: create the distance required after impact to follow up with

a slash of his blade aiming for roughly the same area as the shield

strike(Combat bonus di on hit).

OnlineHost: Brent Ironscale rolled 1 20-sided die: 13

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Brent Ironscale scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

Brent Ironscale: (19)

SwordOfAtrophy: Hit

OnlineHost: Brent Ironscale rolled 3 58-sided dice: 32 35 1

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Brent Ironscale scored 9 poynts damage ~*~

Brent Ironscale: (Feveriron Bastard Sword)

OnlineHost: Brent Ironscale rolled 1 6-sided die: 1

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Brent Ironscale scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

OnlineHost: Brent Ironscale rolled 1 8-sided die: 1

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Brent Ironscale scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

Brent Ironscale: (+16 = 27)

SwordOfAtrophy: 11 damage

SwordOfAtrophy: Silence 0/42 (10), Ceri 0/51 (11)(0/36), Brent 0/39 (16),

Port Slaver 3 11/?? (17)

SwordOfAtrophy: -Slaver 3-

SwordOfAtrophy: With 2 of his friends dead and Brent bearing down on him,

his last ditch effort was to throw a sleep ball at Brent, maybe he could get

away after.

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 1 20-sided die: 14

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

SwordOfAtrophy: (21), Hit DC: END 15 to avoid sleep

OnlineHost: Brent Ironscale rolled 1 20-sided die: 1

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ Brent Ironscale scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

Brent Ironscale: (Well, nap time for Brent!)

SwordOfAtrophy: Nap time indeed.

SwordOfAtrophy: Silence 0/42 (10), Ceri 0/51 (11)(0/36), zZzBrent 0/39 (16),

Port Slaver 3 11/?? (17)

SwordOfAtrophy: --Silence-

Brent Ironscale: He was fighting. He was sure he was fighting. That didn't

seem to matter to the rest of him though as he just crumpled to the ground

from the effect of that poison.

SwordOfAtrophy: Get away? Warn the others who might be here? Hahahaha no.

Nobody called Ceri "Juggs" and got away with it. The slaver was smirking at

his good fortune of putting Brent to sleep, when he found a big violet

colored sword gutting him.

SwordOfAtrophy: (Vital Strike, dbl roll)

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 1 20-sided die: 12

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

SwordOfAtrophy: 27'

SwordOfAtrophy: Hit

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 4 68-sided dice: 12 23 68 29

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 16 poynts damage ~*~

OnlineHost: SwordOfAtrophy rolled 2 8-sided dice: 2 7

SwordOfAtrophy: ~*~ SwordOfAtrophy scored 0 poynts damage ~*~

SwordOfAtrophy: 25 + 21 = 46 damage

SwordOfAtrophy: 30 damage and three dead slavers

SwordOfAtrophy: Silence 0/42 (10), Ceri 0/51 (11)(0/36), zZzBrent 0/39 (16),

Port Slaver 3 41/30 (17)

Scarred Grace: Ceri felt the connection with Brent change as he fell asleep

and slowly she moved over towards him so that she could kneel next to his

body. Reaching into her bag almost immediately for one of her remedies as

she removed the slime

SwordOfAtrophy: Silence exhaled, wiping blood from his blade on one of the

cloaks. "Slavers, just like old times." In the first days after the scarring,

he'd defended Ceri from many of their ilk. She was quite attractive chattle.

"Are you alright,

SwordOfAtrophy: Ceri?"

OnlineHost: Brent Ironscale has left the room.

Scarred Grace: from his body and then felt around until she found the wound

that had carried the poison through his veins. "I'm fine.. " The small vial

needed was then pulled out and poured onto his wound to help the dragonborn

came back to

Scarred Grace: them after it all wore off. (Neutralize Venom/Poison)

SwordOfAtrophy: Brent would wake up fit as a fiddle.

SwordOfAtrophy: After scavenging the equipment from the three bodies, as

well as their other treasures in a safe spot, it would take Brent a few

minutes to get himself up again. So more exploring, next time!

Scarred Grace: ( Yay.. thank you hun for the quest )

SwordOfAtrophy:

SwordOfAtrophy: ^v^ 1/17/2017 12:17:54 AM ^v^