The Stones of Etherium

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Myyt, May 21, 2015.

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  1. A cool night breeze wafted through the town of Sunshire, swirling up little clouds of dust which caught on the yellow gleam of the lights shining in windows throughout the village. High above the small town, a waxing moon, nearly full, beamed down with a pale light. Most of the town was silent save for the sounds of revelry splashing out of the tavern in boisterous bursts. 'Twas common of the town folk to gather for merriment after a hard day's work at the plow, or hammering away at iron, or hacking away at logs. Inside the inn, the heady smell of fine weeds burning at the pipe mingled with the tart smell of apples and ale. A delicious smelling stew bubbled at the large fireplace at which a large fire was currently burning, being tended to by the innkeeper's young son. The innkeeper himself had joined in the merriment, leaving his lovely twin daughters to cater to the people of the town. One of the patrons cleared his throat loudly and began to sing. After the first few words, the other revelers joined in, their voices rousing together in a merry drinking song.

    "This is the song of a maiden so fair
    When she walked through a room e-ver-y man would stare
    Her eyes were like diamonds, her hair raven black
    But oh, by the Gods, would you look at her rack!
    Ne'er cross the land was a lovelier lass
    Oh what I would give for a chance at that a-"

    Just before they could finish, the tavern door came bursting open as a woman who looked to be in her early thirties came rushing in.

    "THE BEAST IS BACK! HE'S STALKING MY COWS AS WE SPEAK! SOMEONE KILL THE DAMNED THING!" She pleaded in terror to no one in particular.

    One of the men replied in a drunken voice, "Ahh put a damn cork in yer hole Pam! There ain't no damned beasts, itsh probably just a pack of wolvesh roaming about!" as he spoke he waved his flagon around, splashing ale here and there, "You're shpoiling all our fun! Now git on out of here, before me boys show ye out!" His speech drew the approval of the general tavern population, who continued on as before.

    Pam looked around the crowd for a bit, tears welling up in her eyes, before she turned around and left. The party continued on.
  2. Leaning back into her chair, Adelais snapped back up to full attention when a Beast was mentioned. She soon relaxed again after it turned out to be a false alarm. Shit she thought. Not a sign of him. Draining her tankard, she looked around again, palming her room key and daggar. Summin' aint right.

    *Roll spot check*

    die = 13 +2 bonus = 15(PM me GM if i saw anything)
    Killako threw 20-faced die for: Spot Check Total: 13 $dice
  3. Near the inn was a small dark purple carriage. In short, the wagon had seen better days. Scorch, claw, and far stranger marks decorated the peeling paint. It seemed that the only thing holding it together was twine and luck, then there was the smell. It was the odor of rotten cabbage, drying goat flesh, soggy mandrakes, powdered horn of unicorn, and shredded coconut. It also had no horse at its reins. It would be easy to assume this was simply the vessel of a madman and you wouldn't be far off. Sprawled on the left side in big black letters was, "Blackwater's Amazing Potions!" And in much smaller letters on the underside of the carriage were the words, "no refunds."

    The owner of this strange wagon sat in the inn pub, thanking the whatever-choses-what-happens-next for her young appearance. Normally, this large hat wearing woman would damn her short stature, but when she was surrounded by lustful, drunken men she wouldn't give it up for the world. Clair looked up, she was in a darker corner of the bar, wondering how such a woman's skeleton could support such features (judging by the singer's hand gestures.) Suddenly the doors burst open, some woman named Pam, a problem with a beast. At the words beast, her wild mind focussed on fine feathers the color of cinders, stained with fresh red. A shake of the head. No, not thinking about that now. Had good sales today, her hangover cure would sell fantastically tomorrow, enjoying some good food and drink. But then Pam left, denied and laughed at, tears in her eyes. The witch looked down at the sentient eye on her neckless, which looked back up at her. "Fine..." She grumbled, although no conversation had actually passed, and hopped off the stool she was sitting in. Grabbing her broom on the way out Clair quickly caught up to Pam. "Excuse me, Miss! I heard you had a problem with a beast of some kind?"
  4. Gorblok rose to his feet quickly as he darted around his strange new surrounds, a harsh melody on the breeze. His scare armour still dripped of lake water that splashed to and fro as he shook himself like a mad dog, the cool breeze an unwelcome change from him home to the South. North? Gorblok realized he had no idea where the Voice had dumped him or why. Only that it needed a champion. With no other choice but to wait for the Voice to visit him again, Gorblok did the only sensible thing. His strange wooden cage in hand, Gorblok set out to find a lake to drown himself in.

    As he marched through the small row of houses and businesses, Gorblok thought this village was not so different from others he had visited in the past. Except the yelling. And fires. And bodies. But aside from that, this seemed a typical human village. Maybe one of them knew the location of the nearest water source. And so Gorblok did the second most sensible thing he could think of.

    Humans! Humans, Gorblok wishes to use your lake! Direct him and he will not crush your puny human skulls! As he called throughout the town he noticed it practically empty. Only the fires of the tavern were lit, the smell of food and promise of humans an enticing offer to any Orc in need of assistance. As he approached, Gorblok saw two human females, one much smaller than the other.

    Aha! Do not be afraid tiny human, Gorblok only wishes to ask your mother about her lake. Human mother, Gorblok demands to know the location of your water. Tell him or he will eat your daughter's silly hat.
  5. Stumbling over the roots of an overturned tree, a young girl in the night caught herself making out with the jagged edges of a decently sized rock. Wincing, she stood up, rubbing the small cuts on her face. Pulling out a palm-sized wood container, the girl's latest (and rather bad) attempt at whittling, she opened the top and took a pinch of a powdery, pale yellow mixture and rubbed it onto her right cheek, wincing as the powder leached into her facial cuts. Staring into the container, now empty of the home remedy, she set it down carefully on the ground.

    Selestewa sighed, a mixture of frustration and fear in her sigh. She was lost, wandering throughout lands of which she did not know the names of, through towns she did not know the reputation of, searching for some place that she could call her own. Now, however, it would appear that she would have to sleep as an outcast once more from civilization, and, resigning to this fact, her feet gave way and she sat, leaning against the rock she had smashed her face on.

    As she sat there, about to nod off, she noticed something that she should've seen before if she hadn't smashed her face in; she saw the outline of a town, the stragglers of buildings out at the edge of the forest, in the horizon, close enough to walk.

    Now, in this situation, a normal person would be grateful and pick themselves up, running like there were devils at their heels to a safe home of some sort. Selestewa, however, isn't normal.

    Selestewa just sat there, staring at the edges of the town, hesitant about entering the village. She looked down at her dress, a meager smock bearing marks of mud and tearing, and, tepidly, slid back her right sleeve. The arm was still covered in black, still marked by so much death, and she quickly covered it again, remembering her last hateful skirmish with civilization involving screaming and defilement. Remembering the death of the person that took her in, killed for harboring 'a monster'. Remembering how she wasn't herself.

    Slowly, she cradled herself in her arms and quietly wept.
  6. Pam looked back at Clair who she only just resized was older then she looked when a ogre stomped up. He asked about a lake and, what was that? Did he just say tiny? Did he just say daughter?! "I'm in my twenties you green louse! Call me a child again and see what happens!" The witch growled angrily, then turned to the lady and said, struggling not to hit him, "so the beast?"

    Pam was frightened and confused by the orc's words but replied anyway. "Er... Yes. Its a damn hulking monster that eats my cows almost every night." A thought suddenly came to her and she turned to Gorblock. "My lake is at my farm as well, creature might drain it dry. I don't have much to offer you but if you kill it I'll try to make it worth your while." Clair gave it a solid five seconds of thought and nodded her head. "I'll do it. What about you Greenie?"
  7. As she looked around, she saw the woman slip out and leave. Figuring it was her best chance at finding information, she slipped out after him, and hid in the shadows. (Hide Check: 17) She was absolutely certain nobody saw her, and she over-heard the others converse about the creature. The sudden appearence of the ogre was a surprise, but she got over it quickly and was able to quickly resolve what to do. (Diplomacy: 1(Critical Failure)) Stupidly stumbling out of the shadows, she turned to the quarrelling pair: "Hey you, girlie and ogre. Quit your fighting and shut yer trap, lets go help this lady."
  8. Wiping her eyes, Selestewa stood up, pinching her cheeks to snap herself out of it and regain composure. Slowly, she gripped the coat surrounding her and pulled it over herself, raising it to cover her head.

    Yes, she was still nervous, still tepid, about going into the town and/or village ahead of her, but she had resigned herself to the fact that she needed at least some sort of place to stay, a place to find materials; if that place was to be hiding, scraping and stealing small valuables from people, so be it.

    Standing, she forced herself to walk, and moved towards the moonlight reflected off of the village.
  9. Gorblok ignored the child's prattling as he waited for the mother's reply, though her mention of cows made his stomach rumble. Perhaps he would eat the child's hat anyway... Gorblok will consider your herd a fair reward. Gorblok's army will need much meat! Tell me human mother, where is this farm? Your daughter may come but Gorblok is Commander, not baby sitter. If she is eaten Gorblok will still take take your cows.

    You can't eat my cows! The beast has already taken half my herd, why would I hire you just so you can take the rest?! Pam's eyes began to water once more, her elation at the young woman's agreeance to help conflicted by the horrible orc's insistance on devouring her pride and joy. She was ready to burst into tears as a voice came stumbling from the bushes nearby.

    "Hey you, girlie and ogre. Quit your fighting and shut yer trap, lets go help this lady."

    More tiny humans! Why are you all so small? Gorblok walked casually to the newcomer and hoisted her by the back of her vest. Fine! If Gorblok can not have cows, Gorblok will have this tiny human. Congratulations tiny human, you are newest member of Squidling Army.
  10. "I'm not her mother..." Pam indicated, the orc one of the weirdest people she had ever met. Looking over at the clutz of a woman she sighed. Her herd was doomed. "It's that way, small barn with a big lake, can't miss it." She pointed to the northeast.

    Clair nodded then looked over at the orc and his new halfling soilder. Squidling army huh? Sounds like he woke up from a dream and believed everything he saw. "Let's not waste time then." The witch's broom hovered a few feet from the ground and she sat on it. It began to swiftly bring her to the farm, but not before Clair secretly made a nearby root unearth and gently rest on Gorblock's foot in a attempt to trip him.

    From her vantage point, Selestwa could see a large beast sulk out of the woods. Arrows and scars decorated its hunched over back as it made its limping way to the trembling cows of a nearby farm. The moonlight caught its glossy feathers and snarling face, revealing its race. An owlbear. Old and wounded as it was, it was still dangerous and frightening.
  11. Selestewa halted in her tracks; seeing the moonlight reflecting off of what she knew to be arrangements of feathers, she slowly took several steps backward, hoping that the beast hadn't been alerted to her presence. Sidling behind the wood of a tree, she hidden herself, unintentionally holding her breath. Looking around the curved trunk of the tree, she noticed the scars and arrows embedded in the creature's skin, and the sight of the wounds frightened her; if it was injured, it meant that it was aggressive, forced away by force, and the wounds only mean that it'll be even more ferocious.

    Her attention roamed, looking for something, a stick or a stone perhaps, to divert the owlbear's attention, to give her a chance to escape. There were no pebbles, and only rotting, fragile sticks lay around her. They would surely snap in her hand if she even flicked them, much less threw them. moved towards the wooden container she had dropped earlier, several paces away to her left, and she silently berated herself; had she kept the empty container on her, she could've used it as a diversion, thrown it to take the creature's attention elsewhere, even if only for a second. She had left behind her only source of escape.

    Selestewa's gazed drifted from the container to her right sleeve, but she quickly shook her head; she was not going to take the risk of combat. She was not skilled enough, nor confident enough, that she would survive a battle with this creature. Even then, she kept looking at her arm, staring at the sleeve, and, slowly, she undid the straps holding the sleeve in place.

    It would only be a back up plan, to resort to combat.

    She knelt down, hiding behind the tree, and, as gently as she could, walked to her left, concentrating on making sure each of her feet landed ball first (a trick for sneaking she had learned when she was little). She cherished every rushed breath in this walk, for each one could be her last.
  12. Come then Newst Squidling! We will save cows and then Gorblok will make you a full member! Excited at the prospect of a new recruit and a lake in which to get new orders, Gorblok raced ahead toward the farm. At least, he intended to as a root snared itself over his leg and tripped him to the dirt, sending the Halfing careening from his grasp and landing some feet away.

    OOF! Raaagggh! Gorblok growled as he tore the limb from his ankle and lept to his feet. As he hurried away he scowled back at the Human Not Mother. You humans leave things all over to trip over! Maybe cows just get tired of your mess! And with that the orc dashed to where he thought he saw the Halfing land. It was a darkened clearing, moss and clover cast ominously in the moonlight and the shadows of gnarled trees that danced across them with the wind.

    Newest Squidling! Gorblok called through the trees, his bellowing call answered only by the sounds of frogs and crickets. Tiny Human, return to me! We have cows to save and beasts to slay! As stepped further into the grove, Gorblok noticed the ground had been stomped flat. Large tracks like the talons of an eagle stomped and scratched the dirt.


    Gorblok moved even deeper into the trees, the sounds of nighttime wild life replaced by disgruntled chirping and sharp squawks . Gorblok hesitated as he saw the Halfing struggle to her feet beside a large cave entrance, the source of the sounds. Squidling, Gorblok says we should leave now. Right now. The chirping was joined by thudding and the squawks by crunch of bones as several cow heads and ribcages came tumbling out of the cave followed by three small owlbears.

    Gorblok hates being right!

    With a yell, Gorblok hoisted the Halfing once more and dashed away from the impending danger.
  13. As Gorblok let go of her, Adelais quickly turned around and rans back towards the other two. She knew what those things were. Owlbears, she thought, grimacing in frustration. Looks like its a fight on our hands. She slipped away quickly and hid in the shadows again. (Hide: 18) Quickly melting into the shadows, Adelais moved silently towards the owlbears position. (Move Silently: 15) She creeps stealthily closer.
  14. The owlcubs chased after Gorblock, chattering with hungry chirp-growls. The owlbear hadn't seen Selestwa or Adelais, but as soon as she heard the sounds of her young the beast's head then body turned to Gorblock. Her one eye glowed a angry yellow.
    ((Nocturnal: -2 to all stealth related rolls and disadvantage to all stealth actions))

    Clair zipped up five feet behind the owlbear. She was grateful for that wounds she had for a healthy one would be beyond her ability to defeat. Greenie was running from something, to her horror the owlbear's young. She quickly tried to formulate a plan of some form. She couldn't have the monster chase her, but she had to do something. Where was that halfling woman?
  15. Adelais spotted the little girlie running up to behind the owlbear, and quickly moved along till she was there as well. Slowly unsheathing her sword, Adelais turned towards the owlbear's back, before motioning to the girlie to get ready to give her a boost. (Hide Check: 14 (+3 for small size, -2 for nocturnal) She managed to stay undetected and Adelais began running towards Clair (Dex: 20), hoping that Clair had her hands ready in position for her.
  16. There was an awful racket from the underbrush near where the ravenous baby owlbears were chasing their would be prey. Seems kind of like the noise attracted something else from the forest. With a burst of leaves and twigs, what looked like a brown mass of fur and cloth came tumbling out of the underbrush. It was only after he sprang up and started running was he identifiable as a young man in close fitting brown clothes and a bear skin rug tied around his waist. He came sprinting up behind the owlbear cubs, it wasn't hard for him to catch up.
    #16 Effort, Jun 6, 2015
    Last edited: Jun 6, 2015
  17. Gorblok cursed as the Halfling (half Halfling, half Squidling ; not to be confused with Halfling) slipped from his grasp and disappeared further ahead. On the one hand he had managed to get a capable scout for his army's movements but on the other the tiny human was damnably hard to keep to track of and on a third hypothetical-though-surely-less-capable-of-significant-smashing hand Gorblok's pursuers had attraction attention of their own, a man who thought himself a bear or a bear who thought himself a man, perhaps one or the other that thought itself an Owlbear all along. Of course the hows or wherefores of this unusual predicament bided themselves with whistling a pleasant tune as they blew through the orc's large head as they were quickly replaced by the chirping and panting of three much more important topics of interest nipping Gorblok's neck and back.

    Swift for his size and unhampered by the humans and their untidy tree roots that apparently snared and struck at the legs of larger creatures, Gorblok led his motley crew of hunter and hunted clear through the meadow, through the woods, across a small creek and past a lovely bed and breakfast nestled snug among the rolling farmlands before a lake came into view beside a large red barn and a sparse herd of cattle, simultaneously dwarfed and made giant by their surrounding entities a rather sour looking Owlbear, much larger than the three in tow, and two female children attempting to leap frog unto the beast.

    Now Gorblok, to his credit, is usually unashamed of speaking his mind and would have surely admonished the youths for their dangerous activities had he not (A) been severely winded and charging headlong into the lake and (B) been utterly bewildered how a bed and breakfast could have kept business with such reasonable prices as were advertised. Perhaps in another life Gorblok the Commander was Gorblok the Miser but for the life of him, a life in clear and present peril, he couldn't help but think all humans were clearly mad.

    Heaving and panting, Gorblok and his three Owlbear groupies charged headlong to the bottom of the lake, his final thoughts before being swallowed by the cool water pertaining to the socio-economic repercussions of building an inn near an Owlbear den.
  18. Well this went unexpected quickly. Here he was contemplating how to best handle the owlbear situation and then some other folks show up ruffling up the cubs and making mama owlbear all angry. He wasn't sure what the two near the mom were doing, but it didn't look good. The orc looked like he was leading the little owlbears into the lake, which Jojo could assume mama owlbear wouldn't like and possibly go chasing after. Jojo was no expert but he thought an Orc could out swim an owlbear any day of the week, but would the cubs even follow him into the water? Probably, and mama would follow. Could owlbears swim? They were covered in feathers.... Jojo concluded the cubs wouldn't be able to swim very well at all in the lake. Unless they were duckbears...which they weren't.

    Diving forward, Jojo tackled one cub to the ground. Rolling with the cub, and getting several scratches for his efforts, he pushed off the infant animal and tumbled up to his feet throwing out an arm and a leg. The leg delivered a strike to an adjacent cub while his arm threw the remaining cub to the ground. Or it would have, normally, but the thing was just a bit more stable on four legs. He managed to knock the fuzzy thing off balance though. Now he just had to figure out how to get the cubs to stop trying to eat people...then get mama bear to cool down and relocate to a less populated area. Yeah, yeah that's a good plan.
  19. Clair nodded obediently, getting into appropriate position and boosting the halfling upward with as much strength she could muster. She was breifly distracted by the random bear man though, and her boost was a clumsy. Could you blame her? It was a big, burly man waring a bear, beating up owlbears!

    The owlcubs refused to enter the water and soon choose to redirect their attack Jojo. The cub that was kicked let out a chirp of fury, causing its mother to turn to its assailant and roar/hoot before charging, claws outstretched. "AWWOOOOAHH!!!"
  20. Yep, this is just about what Jojo was expecting from punching the cub of a dangerous animal, nature and all. Looking around, the mama owlbear sure enough was charging straight at him with claws outstretched, which he actually had a maneuver for. As he turned to prepare for a possibly painful engage, the owlbear's roar/squawk sparked something in his brain. The normal clarity he felt faded for a moment, instead being replaced by a flare of burning wrath, he was go"ing to rip the feathers off this bird and tear the flesh from it's bones!"

    Whoa, that was weird. Regaining himself, he realized the owlbear was upon him! Claws scratching at his torso, Jojo threw himself into the instincts developed in the monastery, flowing away from the claws even as they tore his clothes and rent his flesh. Using his whole body in precise movements and smaller stature, Jojo got himself under the owlbear's center of gravity and stabilized his footing. Before the owlbear fully understood that she had not yet killed her adversary, she was flat on her back.

    Jojo felt accomplished for a moment, before he remembered he was still surrounded by smaller owlbears and bleeding obnoxiously. Electing to dive out of the middle of them, he earned only a few scratches as he scooted himself between the diving cubs, now in a pile near their mother. This was getting too close for comfort.

    Casting a glance around he looked for the other people that had been trying to deal with the owlbear situation. There was the Halfling, and the woman, and the...the Orc was gone, did he swim across the lake already? Neither one of them looked Druidic but you never know "Hey there, uh, do either of you speak Owlbear by any chance? Or, like, cast spells to put critters to sleep?". He was starting to feel the combat, despite it being pretty short thus far he was covered in nicks and scratches, with a big ol' scratch across his chest from diving through claws and beaks.
    #20 Effort, Jun 10, 2015
    Last edited: Jun 12, 2015
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