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Author Topic: Where the wind blows (Chap III)  (Read 20435 times)

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Offline Chaosmark

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Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)
« Reply #50 on: October 22, 2007, 08:53:33 PM »
Tristan glanced at his leg, noting the crossbow bolt jutting out of it, unnoticed in the commotion. He then turned his gaze towards where the verbeeg had disappeared. His voice was pensive, and he wished to heaven that he could deny the logic creeping through his mind. "Do you think someone else is headed this way? They'll never suspect an ambush..." The priest turned to Adan and began to speak again, glancing now and again towards the verbeeg's last location. "Now that we're free from instant death, the choice is no longer out of my hands. I will follow them, and make sure that they do not avail themselves upon any others that might be coming this way. After all, I said they would be free of our attention if nothing like this happened again. But I cannot and will not stand by while those creatures make sport with an unsuspecting group of travelers. They will suffer no harm if they themselves harm no-one else. But woe to them if they intend harm for others. Trigu gave me wits and hands: I have used the former to allow me to use the latter."

He separated his next words from the former to give Adan a chance to mull over what he had said. "I cannot ask you to come with me and risk your life. You have started on the path to redemption. I couldn't let circumstances prevent you from pursuing that pathway, otherwise those creatures would be licking their wounds instead of possibly planning another attack. But neither can I let them do whatever they will. I shall follow them once this wound is cleaned and healed." He hobbled over to the camp, stamping out the small bit of flame that had caught onto the parts of net nearest the fire before sitting down on the rock he had occupied just a few hours prior. A grunt of pain came from Tristan's lips as he jerked the bolt from his calf. A few words of prayer later, and his hand and leg were both as good as new, if a bit tender.

He began to pack lightly, stowing everything except his mace and edibles on his sister's former horse. There was no need for him to have a mount, nor anything but the essential supplies.



OOC: Okay, I know it seems like a lot happened there, but here's a breakdown.

Speculation. Explaination of intentions. Explaination of loophole. Explaination of previous actions. Heals self, twice (once for each wound, unless one heal will heal both of them). Begins to pack up everything except his weapon and food/water so Adan doesn't have to. Assuming Adan pulls an insane loop-de-loop (which I'm not expecting, but Tristan is), he'll get the horse and everything there.
P(A|B) = P(B|A)*P(A)/P(B)

By the power of Bayes!

Acolyte Lithil Darkheart – Level 1 Necromancer
STR: 1 | END: 2 | CON: 3 | DEX: 3 | CHA: 3 | INT: 3

Current guild quest: --

Offline Siren no Orakio

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Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)
« Reply #51 on: October 23, 2007, 11:28:02 PM »
A careful, swift motion, a face utterly devoid of emotion, this allows Adan to yank the bolt from his own thigh, before dipping into that long, flat case. Vodka to cleanse the wound, drawing a sharp breath of pain. Leaf of lamb's ear to be held against the injury, clumsily, but tightly tied beneath the bandage, to speed the healing. Extract of willow bark, to ease the pain, taken in water with garlic oil, to prevent sepsis of the wound. Yes. That would do it, even if it tastes worse than something that might be found in an ogre's boot. As he completed this, Adan twisted his face into an expression of disgust, shaking his head even as he tested the ability of his leg to bear his weight without the readiness for war rushing through him. It would do, he supposed.

"No. You cannot ask that, brother. Nor could I ask it of you. But neither can you stop me from coming along, in any case, and you will have need of my knowledge, if not my blade, if you are to live this day." A smear of his own blood, upon his blade, an etching of a familiar symbol along its length. "And if all fails, then I shall die as a son of Hellschwert should, with my blade in hand and those I would protect behind me, disowned or nay."

And as he looked about, he frowned, pointing upwards into the rocks. "We will need the height, to steal it from them when they swoop down upon their victims. At least they may be spared the nets. And we will need to move. Now."

Offline Murometz

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Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)
« Reply #52 on: October 24, 2007, 07:34:23 PM »
Brown Borgradoc first tried to squeeze the Hellschwort signet ring onto his own stubby pinky, but having failed that, tossed it into his satchel annoyed at its circumference. Perhaps it would make a nice earring, he thought.

As the Verbeeg made their way quickly across the desolate bowl of the valley (they moved in great strides despite their awkwardness), Borgradoc was deep in thought.

The eagles had indicated more "meat" ahead and above the rim of Ethdos Gorge. Borgradoc wanted to make sure the Verbeeg were back for the evening's festivities in Cottar's Bale, but surmised that the gang had enough time to climb back up, and see who the new trespassers may be, before heading back to the hamlet. Luck was with him, Borgradoc thought, the travelleres were in the direction of the village anyway.

It would have to be quick though. He did not want to miss the annual crowning of Snowmelt's "maiden fare". He was in fact hoping he would be fuggering the winner later this same evening. As he grinned through yellowed teeth, Borgradoc absent-mindedly fingered his other ring, the one that protruded from his pierced eyebrow. No one could resist Brown Borgradoc, he told himself, and soon the Verbeeg reasoned, Cottar's Bale would be his anyway, for all intents and purposes.

As Borgraodc thought his thoughts, the group neared the cliff-face, and glanced up. Two hundred feet fifty above was the hill country and the road to Cottar's Bale.

Borgradoc paused, too lazy to go up again at first, but then steeling himself, the Verbeeg leader shouted orders at Yoord and Mrok. Something about grappling hooks and eagles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Adan followed Tristan toward certain doom, the pair was silent, nursing wounds and grudges and thoughts of righteousness.

They kept well back of the Verbeeg now, but kept them in their sights. It was not difficult in fact, to mark six nine foot tall humanoids in a flat rock-strewn valley, as they travelled. Adan made sure to keep one eye on the skies, to see if any more treacherous birds, were in turn spying on the pair, but the wind had seemingly chased them away. The Eagles were no where in sight now.

The end of the late afternoon rain was replaced with wind again, which picked up now, and began its ode to the coming dusk, howling and echoing throughout the gorge. The Triguians pulled their cloaks tighter around their tired, aching bodies and trudged on, determined, and unafraid.

Suddenly Tristan paused, and pointed something out to Adan, who was himself  already peering in the same direction. Several hundred feet ahead, the pair could now see the rim of the gorge, more than two hundred feet up lay the valley's rim. But what they saw now, was tiny figures in the distance, six of them, apparently making their way up the rock-face of the cliff, moving quite quickly, perhaps due to their great strength and knowledge of the mountain.


They noticed another thing as well. Mud was lazily flowing off in clumps from the gorge's rim, falling and seeping down slowly past the climbing Verbeeg, and dropping in globs from the heights. It seemed the day's rain had brought mudslides to the region.
« Last Edit: October 24, 2007, 08:40:28 PM by Murometz »
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Triumph of the Dungeon Master!

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:
1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.
2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)
3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps
4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

-Captain Penguin

Offline Chaosmark

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Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)
« Reply #53 on: October 25, 2007, 11:55:25 AM »
"Brother, do you see the rim of the cliff up ahead? I believe that's a mudslide of some sort. It could make following them difficult..." Tristan looked around, trying to find a way up to the top of the cliff that didn't involve the risk of being killed in a mudslide.



OOC: Are we within the 'threat' range of a cliff-top mudslide?
P(A|B) = P(B|A)*P(A)/P(B)

By the power of Bayes!

Acolyte Lithil Darkheart – Level 1 Necromancer
STR: 1 | END: 2 | CON: 3 | DEX: 3 | CHA: 3 | INT: 3

Current guild quest: --

Offline Murometz

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Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)
« Reply #54 on: October 26, 2007, 08:29:05 PM »
<OOC>no sir</OOC>
Authentic Strolenite™©®

Triumph of the Dungeon Master!

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:
1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.
2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)
3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps
4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

-Captain Penguin

Offline Siren no Orakio

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Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)
« Reply #55 on: October 26, 2007, 08:46:32 PM »
"That which is dangerous to us, is just as dangerous to them, brother." A frown played across Adan's face, as he shook his head. "We will need to climb the ridge elsewhere, in any case." A shake of the head, as he began to pick his way down the rocky valley, tacking slightly away from the hunting Giants, before a hymn came unbidden to his mind, a request for guidance and protection. Humming it beneath his breath, the fallen paladin picked his way forwards, seeking a path up the  ridgeline, doing his best to keep something between himself and it at all times.