Walking the edge

[DM Quietus]

Your wait for the stinger's strike seems agonizingly long, your senses heightened in the grip of battle. In reality, it is only seconds before the stinger slams into you once more, and if you had vision, it would go dark with the pain. However, with the tip of its tail buried in the flesh of your arm, you have no problem finding it - ignoring the feel of fire in your blood, you wrap your shield arm around the barbed tail, and tear through muscle and tendon. Its natural reaction is to pull its tail away, but you have strong enough hold - and have cut deeply enough - that the poisoned tip tears free, and you are assaulted once again with a deafening scream.

Your dagger now free, you press the advantage, and with all your strength slam the tip of your dagger into the beast's throat, and for a moment, you can feel the vibrations of its scream trembling through your arm. And then, silence, followed by a great weight collapsing upon you. Your breath comes shallow, and the stink of the wyvern's blood flows thickly over you, but after a few moments you can feel the weight lift just the smallest amount, as Gerard's men grunt, attempting to lift the corpse off of you. Sight returns, as well, and through the ringing in your ears, you can hear one of the men ask, "Hey, you still alive? Can you move?" When you manage to get out from under the wyvern, you can see a cloud of fog hovering in the middle of the street, but no sign of the caster.

((5 points of con damage, and another save in 1 minute vs. 8 con secondary damage; hope you don't fail! Thankfully you'll survive either way. 2,700 experience for the fight, and the saddlebags attached to the wyvern's exotic saddle contain :

1x Divine scroll of Lesser Restoration
1x Potion of Endure Elements
50 gold
2 pearls worth 100 gold
2 spell component pouches
Inkpen, sealed ink bottle, and a roll of paper
And on one of those sheets of paper, point form notes in a flourishing hand, written in Common, with a quite clear description of you.))

[DM-Delfon]

As soon as the Wyvern falls, Xanadu whistles holding out a hand for Fireheart. Once he has a hold of Fireheart's bridle, he whispers, "I'm glad you're safe, now pull me out of here would you?" After a brief pause he adds, "Back. Back. Back." Fireheart complies with the command immediately, and as the men lift some of the Wyvern's bulk Xanadu slides free. In response to his sight returning, Xanadu blinks a few times at the sudden brightness. Turning to the men, he says, "Yes, I am still live, and I am mobile." When he catches sight of the saddlebags, he adds, "A moment please." Searching through the casters belongings he shifts them into his own possessions, then raises his voice high, "Can anyone here tell me what this potion will do when drunk? Or what this scroll will do when cast? I have a staggering amount of poison coursing though my blood, and I still have to track down that caster. Any help would be thoroughly appreciated." Turning to the men that took part in the battle, I place a hand on each of their shoulders, "I could not have done that without your help. You two are heroes, and I will not forget you."

With the men taken care of, Xanadu finally turns his attention to his wounds. Dropping to one knee, Xanadu calls out to Bahamut while passing his open hand over the worst of his wounds, "Thank-you mighty Bahamut, for giving me the strength to survive." His hand glows a soft blue, and then flashes a bright white. The wound below his hand vanaishes. Dropping that hand to his belt buckle, Xanadu continues, "I offer myself to your service once more, as I have done before, and as I will do again." Help me seal this vessel, so that I may continue to reap your vengeance upon your corrupted children." The belt flashes, and more wounds seal.

Rolls:
Fort: 20(NAT) + 20 = 40
Lay on Hands, 6 points.
Healing belt: 12, 11

Current HP: 48 / 52 (down 18 from the poison)
Current Con 9 / 14

[DM Quietus]

It takes little coaxing to call Fireheart over, but with her help, and Gerard's men helping lift the wyvern, gaining freedom is easy enough. You think that Gerard's men are more nervous about being near the fallen dragon's corpse than Fireheart is, and you get the feeling that she's aware of it, too. Once you're free and clasping their shoulders, however, they seem to grow under your praise, relief flooding their faces. Clearly these men are going to have a story to tell in the tavern tonight. For now, however, they seem to be focused on you, and at the mention of poison they begin doing what they can - removing armor from the stung regions, using torn-away strips of cloth to soak away anything leaking from your wounds, and gentle pressure to coax what blood they can from the wounds, which has a distinctly yellow tinge to it. Their attentions are uncomfortable, you're pretty sure even Sidgen isn't that rough, but they are at least thorough. Once they've done what they can, and you've healed what you're capable of, you're left feeling weak but alive.


On your request for identification, you see Gerard step forward from the corner he'd used as cover, as he'd watched the fight. "I might be able to assist with that.", he says, as he approaches. Unrolling the scroll, you can see his fingers trace over lines drawn in silver, jumping from one set of symbols to another. You could swear, looking at the designs, that if you unfocus your eyes for just a moment you could see a clearing in the woods, like some trick your eyes were playing on you. "Lesser Restoration. Might help with that poison. I could try and make it work for you, but I'm not a caster myself", Gerard states calmly, rolling the sheet back up and handing it to you. The vial, he opens and takes a gentle sniff of, considering it a moment before taking the barest sip, then replacing the stopper and handing the golden brown liquid back to you. "Smells like brandy, little too thick for that though. Probably has something to do with heat or temperature - I'd say a potion of resist fire, but those tend to have some cinnamon to them. Endure Elements maybe? Educated guess. I'd say have it identified, but if I'm right, the spell would cost twice what the potion does."

[DM-Delfon]

Rough or not, these men with their bandages are nothing compared to my master's practice weapons. The nights spent moaning in agony from head to toe, only to repeat the process the following day. 'If you can't handle the love tap of a practice swords, how in the 9 hells do you expect to take on a dragon?' He would say. Then proceed to layer another set of bruises over the first. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, oddly content despite the burning pain of the poison, and the throbbing pain of dozens of wounds. Refocusing on Gerard, Xanadu speaks, "If you're willing to cast the Lesser Restoration scroll, it would be of help. Wyvern poison tends to have a deadly secondary effect. Whether it works or not, I will be leaving shortly. I still need to track down, and bring to justice that caster." Looking to the guards, "Can you men get the Wyvern corpse to a secured location? I don't want it leaking into the water supply, or have anyone poison themselves by accident. When I return I will deal with the corpse personally." Addressing the crowd, "Did anybody see which way the caster fled?"

Once things are set, I mount Fireheart and begin following the casters tracks.

[DM Quietus]

When you ask Gerard to try to cast the scroll, he nods, unrolling it once more and spreading one hand over it, fingers splayed to touch five converging points around the central whorls. Seemingly satisfied, he begins, "Praise be to Pelor, who grants us this healing light...", followed by a shake of his head, adding a more perfunctory, "May we bask in his glory forever. And praise be upon Ehlonna, lady of the wilds. May her grace bring us comfort from that which ails us, and we give thanks for our bountiful meals." The prayers offered seem less full of life than those you've seen from a cleric, but with the second prayer, the silvered lines flash with light, and you feel the burning in your blood lessen.

"We'll take care of the corpse, at least in so far as getting it somewhere that people aren't likely to hurt themselves. I'll leave word with the tavern keep as to where we've stored it. On that caster, when he did that thing with the colors, he vanished - he could be hiding anywhere, or could be fleeing. I know if I were him, I'd be getting out of here as fast as possible. Any man who can take down a wyvern like that has little to fear from an injured spellcaster, I'd think." Gerard grins as he moves to clap you on the shoulder, then stops himself before he strikes any of your wounds. Looking around, you can see that as soon as the wyvern appeared, people fled - the few peeking out of nearby windows shake their heads when you meet their gaze, unsure of where the caster might be.

((Takes two tries for Gerard to manage the scroll, but he does end up managing to cast it on you - I'll let you roll the 1d4+1 ability damage recovered. Won't get you to full, but it sure won't hurt, either. Do you have the actual Track feat? Or are you tracking some other way?))

[DM-Delfon]

Smiling Xanadu offers a blessing of his own, "Bahamut bless you, and keep you Gerard." Raising his voice high, Xanadu adds another, "May the might of Bahamut shield you all from your enemies, and keep you safe in the dark times. I will return once I have dealt with the Caster." Xanadu walks Fireheart over to where he last saw the caster, and examines the casters foot prints. Looking around the area, Xanadu follows the tracks where they lead. Once the tracks leave the mess of other tracks in town, Xanadu mounts Fireheart for a bit more speed. Xanadu tries his best to keep an eye out for ambush, but following the tracks keeps most of his attention. Knowing that he will be slower than the caster, Xanadu tries to estimate where the Caster will go when he travels in a straight line. Bringing Fireheart to a gallop during those times to cover more ground. This works out well for the first few hours, but then the caster must have stopped traveling in a straight line. Circling back, Xanadu spends a couple hours picking up the trail once more. After that, its a long march to close the gap. Xanadu marches Fireheart until she is frothing, and breathing heavy. Dismounting Xanadu strokes his friends nose, "You did well old friend, rest now, then return to town." Continuing on foot, Xanadu steels his determination with thoughts of the missing girl. "You will tell me what I need to know caster." Xanadu says aloud to himself as he walks.

Current HP: 44 Subdual damage, 60 / 64 (down 6 from the poison)
Current Con 12 / 14

Rolls:
Healing: 1d4+1 = 2+1=3 Con restored
Track by hour: 11+6=17, 15+6=21, 13+6=19, 5+6=11 (fail), 2+6=8 (fail), 9+6=15, 4+6=10 (fail), 14+6=20, <Forced March> 14+6=20, 12+6=18, 18+6=24, 20 (nat)+6=26, 13+6=19, 13+6=19

Con Checks:
16 Vs 10 (pass), 17 Vs 12 (pass), 15 Vs 14, 12 Vs 16 (fail), 19 Vs 18 (pass), 9 Vs 20 (fail)

Spot: 10+1=11

(Xanadu Roman, Human, Ranger 1 / Paladin 2 / Fighter 2, Dragon Slayer 1 LG <-Ranger gets track as a bonus feat at level 1.

1d4+1 had the chance to get 5, which would have fix me up. Alas, you cursed me to roll only 3 )

[DM Quietus]

Comfortable with Fireheart's training, you forge on ahead in your singleminded attempt to find the caster that attacked the village. It is a while yet before you see signs firmer than hurried footprints and broken grasses. After fourteen hours of tracking, however, your mind is fogged with exhaustion, and you are slowly finding it more difficult to focus.

The progress has led you steadily to the East, and while the forests that were spoken of earlier still loom in the distance, various small groves dot the landscape here. The roads are poorly kept, and you can remember from Gerard's map that they don't lead to any major towns, merely small villages that you've passed near, or circled around. Nothing with more than a dozen homes, all wooden walls and straw roofs. From tracking the caster's path, you get the impression that he's avoided human contact so far. Now, however, you seem to finally be in luck, coming across a grove where someone appears to have been recently. A campfire has had dirt hastily kicked over it, and the signs of a man tending his own wounds lie scattered around a good sitting rock - bits of bloody rags, an empty container that may have once contained salve, a bottle that smells as though it once contained strong alcohol. You do not, however, see signs of the caster himself.

[DM-Delfon]

Xanadu watches his wartime companion trot off back the way they came, and smiles. "See you soon old friend, Bahamut willing." Xanadu walks, and walks and walks some more, never loosing sight of his objective as his body begins to complain about marching in full plate armour, and carrying a fully loaded pack. He offers a prayer to Bahamut to lighten his step, "Mighty Bahamut, please grant me the strength to finish what has been started." adding in his mind, 'You will be brought to justice villian.'

When Xanadu finally spots the making of a campsite, he pauses in a sleep deprived haze. Squeezing his eyes shut, he removes a gauntlet to press his fingers to the bridge of his nose, and rub at his eyes. Replacing the gauntlet, and blinking repeatedly to refocus his sight he takes stock of the camp. Looking mostly at the surrounding area. 'That fire is still warm, the caster may still be present.' Xanadu thinks to himself, his mind abruptly crystal clear.

Rolls:
Spot 20 (nat) + 1 = 21

[DM Quietus]

You cast your eyes about, straining to see something in starlight, and fourteen hours since you fought the Wyvern-borne caster this morning evaporates for only a moment. A rustle of leaves above you catches your attention, and your attention centers on the spot you heard the sound. The dying light of the fire's embers glint off of what must be metal studs, and you remember that the caster was wearing leathers that morning. As he realizes that he's caught your full attention, you hear the caster's voice once again, the sound of a hard-won victory. "You followed me? But how, I had a head start on you, and didn't follow the road! Are you some kind of monster, come to mock me further for my failure before I'm punished?"

((There is actually a bluff here - not to lie, but to redirect. DC 25 Sense Motive to recognize this, and understand what game he's playing at. His goal is to stay your hand and get a feel for your intentions, you may take of that what you will, and apply Sense Motive risk-based modifiers as you see fit.))

[DM-Delfon]

(Since I only add 1 to Sense Motive vs non-dragons I'm not able to make such a check. I rolled anyway just to see and got an 8.)

Xanadu pulls out his masterwork manacles, and tosses them on the ground by the trunk of the tree, "The only monster here is you. Surrender now, and you have my word that I will cause you no further harm." Xanadu stays close, with his gauntleted hand resting comfortably on the weapon that caused the casters wounds back at the village, "I have questions, which you will answer." Xanadu waits, watching for trickery, but unable to focus on casters words to find any deeper meaning in them.

(If he's sensing motive, he would know that I intend to arrest him. My questions will be about the kidnapped villagers, the dragon and it's lair.)