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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Oct 24, 2017 18:34:16 GMT -5
"Mr. Pete is safe and sound with Captain Claybrook" Orellow informs and helps with dismantling and looting the ships. Once that is wrapped up, Orellow hops aboard the Sea's Song, offers greetings and introductions to those he hasn't in his usual bombastic way. With all that wrapped up its time to take to the seas and return to Clifton. Maybe get a new pair of wyvern boots on his way back.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Oct 24, 2017 20:48:14 GMT -5
Total loot gathered between the two Navy ships is: 80 Gold Galleons, 800 Silver Schooners, 2000 Copper Cogs, Gems: Banded agate (10 gp), 2 x Moss agate (10 gp), 2 x Obsidian (10 gp), 2 x Tiger eye (10 gp), Magic Items: Eyes of Minute Seeing (uncommon, dmg 168), Potion of Mind Reading (rare, dmg 188), Potion of Superior Healing (rare, dmg 187)
Embros, Mac and Toby would be aware of this treasure... Avarice?
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Nov 16, 2017 8:45:02 GMT -5
A darkness overtakes Orellow's eyes and the world comes to a stand still as he walks toward the three men. Avarice appears and grabs the collar of his armor as he draws his rapiers. "No!" The small girl yells while being pulled along. "We need to stay in their good graces if we are getting off this rock. You can't sail a boat and you can barely swim" she says as she strains herself against the stronger man. "Would you please- Ahhh!" She starts but gets flicked off by a strong rugged hand that rest on Orellow's shoulder, making him stop in his tracks and memories to flood his mind. Orellow is pulled to the grassy forest floor by the hand as a shield comes up beside his head. Several pings and clangs resonate from the shield as arrows and bolts bang uselessly against it. But amidst the combat all Orellow can see is the dead bandit only a few feet away with a fat purse strapped to his waist, silver coins spilled out of it. His world shakes as he feels a sharp swat across the back of his head, knocking him to his senses. He turns to see his father hovering over him with shield in hand and a concerned face. Orellow clicks into his foolish as he is hauled off his feet and over his Dad's broad shoulder. Using his shielded hand to cover Orellow's head and torso. Orellow watching as the fallen bandit fades into the green of his forest home. An hour later. Orellow is tossed on his feet at their tree top home. He fails to catch his own weight and is sent stumbling back onto his backside. It hurts, but he dares not to complain to his father. A broad man to be sure, but he has several cuts from arrows and bolts, on different parts of him. They've stopped bleeding but have well made their mark. Painting his usual sage green shirt and pants with blood, even having soaked into his leathers. His father paces back and forth across their wooden floor. Eyes wild as if searching for something he can't seem to find. Orellow stays where he is on the floor. "Now, boy you-" He begins but stops himself as he sees his son jump at the sudden heel turn. His father returned to his pacing, still seeming to be unable to find whatever he was looking for. After a moment or two his fast pacing slows to a walk and he turns to his son. Lowering himself down and placing both of his hands firmly on Orellow's shoulders. "Be a Hungry Wolf, Son. Not a Starving Coyote" He says looking into his sons eyes. "Do you understand?" He asked. Orellow shook his head, he didn't have a clue. But, this was something both of them were accustomed too. His Father's metaphors were something he leaned on heavily to communicate to his son as they both had a love and understanding for animals. But his Father lacked social graces and often couldn't communicate his feelings properly. His Father sighed and stood up straight, going to rest his arm on the hilt of his sword like normal but finding it missing. He clicked his tongue in annoyance. "I'll be back, boy" He said with a sigh and made for the door, stopping just short to look at his son. "You think about what I said, yeah?" He added and Orellow nodded, probably more then he should've. His father gave him a single nod back and headed out the door. Orellow thought on things for a while after that. His Father was likely gonna finish off the bandits while he left to retrieve his sword. Orellow recalled his Mother's favorite stories; The Wily Tales Of A Starving Coyote. A near infinite amount of yarns about a starved beast who chased around a desert bird in increasingly weird and fantastic ways. Orellow's mother saw the stories as just a fun tale to tell around the fire. His father found meaning in everything related to nature and this story was no exception. As his mother described the Coyote chasing the bird, his father would muse aloud how the coyote would've passed an old, sick boar or a tailless scorpion or some other easier prey. His father believed if it wasn't so focused on the bird it'd be in better shape then running itself to death or blowing itself up cause the wizard he made a deal with sold it a faulty magic item. This was what he'd meant. His father wanted Orellow to feed his hunger but not become starved to it. A beast that is hungry can hunt. A dead one had no such luxury. One day Orellow would be strong enough to take on all the bandits himself but he had to survive to that point. Leave some silver and treasures behind for greater things in the future and that is what he'll do today as well.
Orellow snapping from his daze shook his head and resumed his usual cheerful luster. Happily joking and laughing with his fellow crew mates as he helped them gather the treasure and bring it to the Sea's Song. Preparing to leave this place behind him and onto the horizon where even greater things await him.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Nov 18, 2017 12:05:34 GMT -5
After the treasure is gathered, and you make it back up on deck you see the Sea Song's Captain, the woman Ava? Ara? Aka? Pete and the other members of your crew moving alongside the Navy ship. Embros, Mac, and Toby come on deck behind you, and quickly move to join the rest. The whole army of pirates begin to jog toward the Sea's Song as one. Once aboard, the crew set to work immediately, finishing the last few things needed to launch the ship. Captain Claybrook takes the helm, and begins barking orders, whether they're needed or not. A crewman pushes a capstan arm into Thom's hands and sets him to work raising the anchor. Meribel bows to Captain Monsoon, before taking her place near the Captain. When Blue Eyed Pete reaches the top of the gang plank, his smile splits his face in two. He moves to Captain Monsoon, and scoops her up in his arms, spinning in a circle before putting her back on her feet, "Thank's for coming back for me Princess." he says with a wink, before darting off under the lash of the Captain's harsh tone. You take your place in the crow's nest as usual, while Embros takes up a defensive position near Meribel. Mac smiles at his wife as he tops the gangplank, and takes a place on the capstan. His shirt is wet, showing off his muscles beneath which your Captain is taking full advantage of. Everything seems to be going well until you notice two dozen Navy soldiers running down toward the pier in rows of two.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Nov 21, 2017 17:13:20 GMT -5
Orellow grabs a rope and readies himself to spring into action then he notices a familiar chanting and feels the pull of the Weave start to take shape as a roiling fog cloud that begins to cover the dock, blocking the view of the guards from the ship. Orellow looks to see the Captain and smiles to himself. I guess she is not the Captain for nothing. He chuckles to himself. The ship sets sail and Orellow watches with delight as ropes are pulled taught and snap on one ship, another ship attempts to follow but immediately stops as they realize there is no rudder and calls from the last ship inform the would-be captain of that ship that they're taking on water. Orellow waves to the angered and frustrated guards with a small smile as they pull away from dock. Soon after the Sea's Song meets up with the Sapphire Rover and it comes time to divide the crews. Orellow notices a strange tension in the air but, he honestly could care less. He springs from the Crow's Nest and grabs a rope on his way down, swinging himself to the other ship and landing beside a small sweet girl who carries a Lute as if it were a child. Orellow flashes a smile before he takes her up into his arms, swinging her around booming boisterously that he has returned to her as if it wasn't obvious.
15+6=21 Acrobatics 16+1=17 Cha check for general Romancing
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Post by DM-Delfon on Dec 3, 2017 10:59:13 GMT -5
She kisses you, soundly. When the spinning stops she melts down into your arms, and holds you fast. "I finally found a way to shut you up." She murmurs into your chest. She looks up at you then, "Glad you made it back safely, did everything go as planned?" The pair of you set about your tasks, working in tandem while you regale her with stories from the prison island. Your shift comes to a close, and you head below decks to sleep. Before long Ann joins you. She doesn't say anything, just slides into your hammock and nestles down with her head on your chest. The following day is uneventful until you spot a sail in the distance coming from where the prison island would be.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Dec 4, 2017 6:58:12 GMT -5
Upon seeing Ann's approaching figure Orellow removes his Father's studded leathers from his person to close the amount of fabric between himself and this lovely lady. As well as not to hurt her with the studs. He silently watches her approach with a smile and welcomes her lovingly to his hammock. Orellow doesn't sleep immediately he lays with her on his chest, his eyes closed and his breath almost none existent in his mind. He focuses on Ann's breath, her warmth, the feel of her curves against his body. His mind wanders to the scar on his head and he thinks on how that guard nearly took him from this world. All his grandiose desires. His debt to the Fingers. Ann... All of that taken from him in an instant. He should be at the Rotted Tower with his Master but here he lies with this wonderful woman in his arms. Although he might desire she had less clothes upon joining him.... On second thought. He paused his mind drifting to the ever vigilant Emboros as well as the others near his bunk. He could already feel his darkness bubbling up from the depths at the mere thought that others would even see what is his. His immediate thought being that he'd take those eyes that stole a glance at his woman's figure... His woman. He chuckled inwardly. He liked that. He opened his one eye just a bit to see his prize. Laid against his chest, sound the world. He would protect this peace. This warmth. This feeling was his and his alone. The feeling of her bare flesh would also be his. Everything she was, is and ever will be. He wanted it all. To lay claim to it, to steal it away and lock it up where no one could get at it. Where no one would take it. His blue eye swam in darkness as his eyelid grew heavy and sleep began its taking.
Mine...
The next morning, Orellow stirs from wakefulness to meet Ann's eyes and smiles like dope. After untangling themselves Orellow offers his best kiss free of morning breath as he sees her off and then he dons his Father's leathers once more and takes to the deck. He heads to the Crow's nest in his usually over the top fashion, laughing and booming all the while. After the first hour or so of clearness in all directions he finds his mind a wanderer from his post. He thinks to the young Axebeak he left behind and hopes the orphan can do well. He felt a certain kinship with the beast and soon realizes he could probably look into using his talents as beast master to obtain an ally for his coming battles. After spotting the white sails peeking the far blue he sings out for all eyes to look at the distant ships and warns to be ready for trouble. The cruise was over, it'll soon be time to battle. He grinned.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Dec 6, 2017 8:05:00 GMT -5
The next several days are filled with long hours and sailors collapsing into exhausted sleep when their shifts end. You're even pulled from the crow's nest to lend your strength where needed. You might not be a sailor, but you're strong and you can follow instructions. You and Ann barely see each other during this time, stolen glances, snatches of conversation between bites of food, mumbled 'good nights' before sleep overtakes one of you. Each crew member looks ragged, but it works. Your ship manages to out sail the pursuing Navy ship. The victory is short lived as another sail is seen, this time ahead of the ship. The Captain keeps the crew calm, and sailing straight on. This new ship couldn't possibly be after you, and it passes by uneventfully. Pursuit begins again after the Navy ships use their lantern's to signal each other. This second Navy ship with a fresh crew gains steadily, and with the bone weariness your crew suffers from, they can't seem to gain. A meeting is called and the choice is made to head back to the Wyvern Straight where your ship will have the advantage of experience, and the Navy ships will have to enter Imperial waters to give chase.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Dec 6, 2017 9:38:35 GMT -5
"Delightful!" Orellow booms. His voice a little shakey given the almost none stop running he's had to do. He breathes out, a grin overtaking his face as he pounds a fist into his opposite palm. "A second chance at getting a wyvern hide" He looks to the skies, hoping to spy a stingerless wyvern or even the young one that dared lay its claws on his Ann, either of them would make him a dashing cloak and a tough pair of boots. That poison they produce could have its uses as well. Maybe something nice for Ann? A token to cement their relationship and ward off any would-be fools who would dare to take her. Certainly no ordinary man would even try for a woman who wore the hide of such a fearsome creature and their expressions once it came out that it was a gift from her beloved would be a nice touch, much to consider. He enjoys the thoughts of having a wyvern head mounted on his wall and other such things when his mind wanders to a particularly lovely thought of Ann wearing a Wyvern skin corset. He pauses for a moment between his tasks to look at her and smiles. Snapping out of it as he's hollered at by one of the crew to hurry up.
Orellow at some point in the Straight would try and get the captain's attention in order to pick her brain about a thought he had. He noticed that him and the captain can manifest fog and with that ability perhaps they can lay a trap. "Odds are the Navy is going to follow our path, Captain. If they are worth their salt they will notice our experience in the Straight and just mimic us. So, I would say we find a spot in the straight where they have no choice but to follow our path and the two of us conjure a fog and set a trap. Some loose odds and ends would slow them but some live bait will attract the Wyverns to that spot, the fog will make the beasts harder to spot until they're right on top of our pursuers" He grins at the genius of his plan. Getting a look from the captain as she asks what would they use as bait. Orellow's smile nearly splits his face as he pulls a small ball of fluff 1 inch in diameter from the bag on his waist and tosses it on the deck. The ball lands on deck and sits there for a moment before. Suddenly, it begins to shake violently and with a series of wet snaps the ball of fluff grows, doubling, tripling its size and getting bigger by the second till its larger than a man. Clawed feet and paws suddenly jut out from the mass and land on the deck with thuds. The ball then starts shrinking in on itself and taking a beastly shape until it looks like every bit like a black bear. The creature seems to take a moment to adjust to its new skin. Shaking itself off and taking in its surroundings before Orellow whistles and the beast meanders beside him, nudging its face against his hand in a friendly gesture. The Captain will look from the beast to Orellow and just see a grin on his face.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Dec 6, 2017 15:08:40 GMT -5
The Captain only takes a moment to agree, and a proper place is decided upon. The Navy ships actually cut a straight path to close the distance, while your ship zigs and zags to avoid Wyvern territory. As a result the Navy ship is attacked by Wyvern after Wyvern. After the third such attack the ships turn around, and head back toward Somerset waters. All your clever planning wasn't even needed. The crew sets out a cheer at the fleeing Navy, but it's cut short as another Wyvern looms close. A couple more days of hard sailing, but this seems less frantic since it doesn't end at the end of a hangman's noose. Even the threat of Wyvern attacks doesn't seem as bad as that for most of these sailors. That's when you see a familiar silhouette, a Wyvern without it's tail. When it sees your ship it alters it's flight path for a collision course.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Dec 7, 2017 5:48:07 GMT -5
A grin overtakes Orellow's face and he can't even wait for the beast to come. He hops up on the railing of the Crow's nest. "Ah-Ha! Come Beast! Let Us Finish This!" He booms happily as he draws a blue streaked Javelin from his back and lines up his shot. He winds back his arm with all his might and lets the javelin fly, yelling; "FULGUR!" like a battle cry. The Javelin changes to a bolt of lightning that rips through the sky and strikes the beast true. A shriek of pain comes from the angry wyvern as the bolt cracks passed its hide and electricity tears through its body, the bolt changing back to a Javelin and remaining wedged in the creature's skin. Orellow then draws his rapiers and waits for the beast to close the gap then he'll flip from his perch and land on the creature's back driving his blades into the monsters and attempts the steer the beast into the deck of the ship, laughing all the while.
Init:13+4=17 Round 1: Javelin Of Lightning: Hit: 15+6=21. Dmg: 1d6+4=9 Piercing. Plus. 4d6=13 Lightning. 22 dmg total (Not a bad first hit)
Round 2: Acrobatics: 18+6=24 Attack: 7+6=13. 2+4=6 Dmg BA: 2+6=8. Miss. Animal Handling? (crashing the Wyvern): 17+6=23
(A bolt of lightning hitting a flying creature can't feel nice *cringe* I almost feel bad for this Wyvern... Almost)
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Post by DM-Delfon on Dec 7, 2017 8:08:10 GMT -5
Your lighting bolt slams home and the creature screams in pain, snarling at you as it flies toward you with claws extended. Before those claws can find purchase in your flesh, you leap into the air, turning to land upon it's back to drive your blades home. One finds it's mark, but the other bounces off a thick scale harmlessly. The Wyvern snaps at your overextend arm, the one that bounced off it's scales, it's teeth sinking into the meat of your forearm with alarming force. Just as the pain from the bite registers, you're smashed in the back of the head by what feels like a mace. That tail might not be filled with blood burning poison, but it still packs quite a punch. You shouldn't have counted that out as a threat. Grabbing a wing, pushing down while pulling back you cause the Wyvern to pull a much tighter turn than he inteneded. You're still off the ship at the moment, loosing height, but turning back toward the ship quickly.
Rolls: Init: 6+0=6
Round 2: Bite: 10+7=17 (Hit AC 16, no shield) Damage: 4+2+4=10 Tail: 16+7=23 (Hit) Damage: 6+3+4=13
Wyvern HP 82/110
I used your Handle Animal roll as a Strength check to physically alter his wing position. 17+0=17 Vs 9+4=13 (Pass). Skill contest, best 2/3 wins.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Dec 8, 2017 4:51:21 GMT -5
Orellow growls painfully as he jams the hilt of his rapier into the side of the wyvern's head to disorient it and pull his other arm free of its jaw. Once out, he jumps from the creature's back and hits the deck, tucking and rolling to lessen the damage from the fall. He attempts to flex his mangled and bloodied arm only to find it won't respond. He swiftly realizes the beast is after him for revenge and decides to lead it on. He quickly reacts to his dire situation by springing to the other side of the ship and launching himself off the side, placing the Rapier in his good hand in the ship and swinging himself into one of the port holes. As he rolls into the deck below with a hard thud he moves himself back against the wall and out of sight of the port hole as he unlatches his crossbow from his belt and draws the string back with his good hand and slides in a bolt. He takes a few breathes before springing away from the hole and taking aim out it. Using his mangled arm to hold up the crossbow as his good arm holds the handle and he wait to see the beast. Once he sees it he fires.
Round 3: Disengage, 14+6=20 Acrobatics to land without hurt use full movement to get to other side of the ship and 12+6=18 Acrobatics to flip into the porthole
Round 4: Drop Rapier, draw crossbow as part of my movement and move to the other side of the ship (30 ft.) ready action to shoot once the beast is in sight. Attack: 4+6=10 to hit. Miss. Guess firing with a bloodied arm isn't the best idea
Orellow HP: 7/30
Orellow hates an unfair fight but when your opponent is bigger, stronger and tougher, you gotta fight a lil dirty. So leading him from one side of the ship to the other should get lots of attacks of opportunity and give the crew some free shots.. Getting below deck was Orellow keeping himself alive.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Dec 8, 2017 11:28:58 GMT -5
As the beast crosses over the deck, you drop off nimbly and dart away. The porthole is a lot smaller than you anticipated, but you manage to wriggle in with quite a bit of effort. As the creature comes into view you can see several bolts hanging out of it's body already, your attempt to add another just bounces harmlessly off into the ocean. The creature seems to be hunting, almost like it's looking for you specifically. It's sees you looking out the porthole and screeches, altering course to come straight for you, it pulls up just before it slams into the hull, but it's tail lashes out into the port hole where your face just was. Laying on the floor, you see about a foot of tail pull back out of the ship. Another barrage of bolts plink off of the creature's hide as it circles away.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Dec 9, 2017 7:02:15 GMT -5
Orellow clicks his tongue and moves over to the side of gaping hole, weapon at the ready and he watches the wyvern fly off. Another time... He thinks to himself. Groaning aloud as he slides down the wall, gritting his teeth through the pain. He whispers words of prayer and touches his bleeding and throbbing arm. His wounds becomes awash with the healing light and stitch themselves shut. Still a bit of pain he notes but he flexes his fingers and he happy enough that he can move them again. Finally releasing his rapier from his wounded arm's death grip. He slides them both back to their home and makes his way to the deck He looks down at his arm guard, filled with holes and tears. That's the third time he's been denied a wyvern hide. There will be blood... He's looking forward to getting back to Clifton and killing something that can't bite his arm off. He pauses a moment on his way up the stairs and looks out the hole left by the beast. That damned monster still has his Javelin, he realizes. "It stole from us". A second voice chimes in as Orellow's eyes become dark. "I'm going to rip its wings off" He growls before he leaves the shadow of the decks below into the light of the sun with his usual smile. "Damned beast got me again" He laughs, rubbing his arm as he joins the rest of the crew.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Dec 10, 2017 14:38:54 GMT -5
The Captain calls upon her Deity to knit more of your flesh together. (Cure Wounds) The rest of your bumps and scrapes are tended with more traditional means. The rest of the journey goes uneventfully, and before you know it the city of Clifton spans along the edge of the cliffs for miles. The harbour itself and the docks are both bustling with activity. The Sapphire Rover takes it's place at the docks, and most of the crew scatter inland to spend their pay. Other's set to work on the ship itself, making sure everything is secure in this town known for thieves.
Ann makes arrangements with you to communicate via Old Borris at the Wayfarer's Rest. Whenever she is back in town she will stop by to exchange correspondence with you. The actual good bye on deck is harder than you expected, at least when it came to Ann. The rest of the crew went as expected, but with her it was tough to look her in the eyes. Eyes that had unshed tears pooling in the corners.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Dec 10, 2017 18:26:38 GMT -5
Orellow embraces Ann and etches into his mind every last little detail he can. Part of him wants to stay on the Rover but he'd never be able to pay back the Fingers splitting loot 30-odd ways. At least not in a way that wouldn't raise questions and cause grief. No, he needed to be out in the world to make his fortune and get free of the Fingers clutches. Being around Ann too much was a danger in itself. One more chain the Fingers can tie him down with. It was too risky, she needed to be safe among the crew. The Captain would see to her safety and Orellow would secure their future. So with a heartfelt promise that they would see each other again Orellow took to the streets of Clifton. After making sure everything was set at the Wayfarer's Rest, Orellow will head out into the markets to pick up some specialty food and various spices. An offering to the Green. He needed help in the coming fights, if working on the Rover taught him anything it was the importance of an ally, but he couldn't just trust anyone, he needed someone he knew wouldn't betray him, a beast he's linked with. After gathering the supplies he heads out into the wilds, getting as far from civilization as he can before he sets up his ritual. It will take 8 hours and cost Orellow more then he'd like but its necessary. He calls on the Beast Master's Conclave to present him with an animal that would fight with him, would seek riches like him and wouldn't betray him. His mind went deep into the Green, reaching out. Extending a hand of kinship to any living thing that would take it.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Dec 10, 2017 18:58:38 GMT -5
Your vision fades as you speak the last incantation, and you feel yourself falling, but before you feel the impact of the ground, you cock your head to one side straining to hear something. Prey. You hunker low, and pick each taloned step carefully. Pulling in air through your beak, you scent your prey. Your steps quicken, and you dodge between low shrubs. There! A shiny two-leg. They have long talons that can kill, but they do not keep them extended. Kill! Kill, before they can bring out their talons. You race toward the shiny two-leg, and it notices you coming. It looks scared. The glint of sunlight off of it's talon appears at it's side, but it's too late. You leap through the air, neck craned back to strike with your beak. Flash.
You come to, looking up at an Axe Beak, not just any Axe Beak. You killed this one's mother. You also look down, down at one of the two-legs that was there when your mother became food. Your head begins to hurt, and your hands begin to glow with waves of green energy. Your head begins to hurt, and you feel like the two-legs glowing hands are the only way to fix it. You reach up with your glowing hands, while leaning your muscle corded neck down toward the glowing hands. The glowing hands touch the axe like beak, and the waves of energy flow into the creature. A link is formed, and all life experiences flow freely across the bond. You become more aware of the other than you are of yourself. Then as the glowing fades, you recede back into yourself. No longer do you share senses, but you feel a kinship with the beast before you, one that runs deeper than any bond you've had before. This creature would die for you, and you can tell that just by looking at it.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Dec 10, 2017 19:41:32 GMT -5
Orellow marvels as he runs his hands across the creature's beak. "Will wonders never cease?" He laughs. "Your a long way from home, little one." Orellow pauses. "No, little one no more. You are Ronok and you are of my flesh as I am of your feather" He leans his head on the Axe Beak, feeling their breathing synchronize before lifting his head back up and smiling. "Come now" He says softly and takes off back to Clifton with Ronok in tow. Getting by the guards shouldn't be too much of a hassle, a quick display of the animal's obedience and a promise that Orellow would take responsibility for anything that happens is usually enough for most if not then Ronok should be safe by the walls while Orellow heads into Clifton. He heads back to he Wayfarer's Rest, but he doesn't go inside. Using his considerable acrobatics he finds himself a secluded perch from which to watch the entrance. Those girls he met before are likely to frequent this area. He can't approach them in the Wayfarer's Rest lest the locals figure he's cursed but bumping into them a few blocks down and insinuation himself there... Thats another story. Perhaps he'll be able to catch one at the door of their house, use his charm and win himself into their lodgings. The less people know about his being in with them the better. They follow the example of another adventurer so them boasting about their deeds is unlikely. More often then not they want their deeds to speak for themselves to match up with their idol. We will see where this group goes.
9+6=15 Acrobatics 15+4=19 Stealth 12+6=18 Perception
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Post by DM-Delfon on Dec 10, 2017 20:02:05 GMT -5
Ronok is asked to stay outside of town, but you can get a license to allow him entry by proving that you can control the beast. The license can be acquired for a fee from the Palace, unless you know someone that can acquire one for you. While you watch you see Bogomil stroll up to the Rest with his usual flair, did he just look at you? Or was that just part of his overly exaggerated movements? Either way, the man bursts through the doors and you can here the cry of "Bogomil!" as he enters from here. After about ten minutes, one of the servers carries a tray over to an overturned barrel nearby. She places it down, looks around and shrugs before heading back inside. From your perch you can see a covered plate, a tankard of ale, and a rolled up and sealed note. The seal is that of the Prince of Somerset.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Dec 11, 2017 7:40:25 GMT -5
Orellow looks at the tray in dismay. He wonders if all half elves are ridiculously perceptive in these settings. First Emboros' eyes seem to follow him everywhere he went on the ship now Bogomil is seeing him when he's actively hiding. Orellow considers that maybe he should stick to being stealthy in the green, he seems to have no luck in the cities, or boats... Assuming that letter is for him. He stares at it for a long while. Is the Prince a fool? Leaving his crest out in the open like that? Is Bogomil the fool? He certainly seems the type. Even if that letter isn't for Orellow the Priest is taking a high risk just setting it out in the open. What of the Prince's enemies? "He's proving to be a liability" comes a small girls whisper into Orellow's ear. Orellow growls, he wanted to insinuate himself among those lovely ladies but the damned fool is forcing his hand. Even if that letter isn't for Orellow, its too much of a risk to leave it out in the open. Orellow leans from her perch to hop down when he stops. What if its a trap? Could the Fingers have a deal with the Uncle? No... they would've come to Orellow. Could the priest be a turncoat? Could that letter be a fake signal fire to catch the Prince's Allies? Orellow won't be fooled so simply. Nor will he fall without a fight. He speaks a prayer and pulls the strings connecting him to the Green to cause a fog to form in around the letter. Orellow then abandon's his perch, using his acrobatics to maneuver around the roofs and between buildings, checking various angles and high points to see if anyone tried to enter, then he goes for the letter himself
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Post by DM-Delfon on Dec 11, 2017 11:05:37 GMT -5
You circle the area, but see nobody even looking in this direction. As you move in you see a woman pointing out the odd fog formation. She didn’t seem to see you enter the fog, and in your estimation is not a threat. You find the food, drink and letter without incident. Grabbing the letter you disappear back up to your perch. “What does it say?” The girl’s voice purrs in your ear, her curiousity palpable.
Breaking the seal, and crumbling it so it can’t be put back together recognizably, you unroll the page and read it. Turning it just enough that the girl can’t see it.
‘O, You have done excellent work. I will keep you in mind for future endeavors. If you need contact me, contact the priest.’
The letter is unsigned, but could only be from one person.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Dec 12, 2017 9:01:46 GMT -5
Orellow looks over the letter and then again after changing his position to what he hopes is a little better hidden. He breathes out in annoyance. It certainly looks like a Prince's writing. Perfectly structured for understanding yet with an eloquence that springs off the paper and demands you acknowledge it. Leaving it unmarked also made sense so as not to completely give things away. Although the wax seal was disconcerting. Sloppy even. But it was probably meant for Orellow's eyes only. He looked at the Inn. Seeming to stare through the walls at where the Priest usually sits. Even from here he could hear the cheers and laughter. This priest was loud and well known everywhere he went. Hardly a proper member of a Prince's court. Then again every Court needs a jester. He laughed at his own joke only briefly before his smile disappeared again. It was sloppy leaving it out like that. Even worse to have it brought out by some random new worker on a platter for any passerby to see. Orellow gritted his teeth. "He's a liability" Came a small sing song voice, seemingly from everywhere and no where. I agree. Orellow nodded. Then again this is the same Prince who, if rumors are to be believed, crashed the Duchess' party and whisked her away. Some had said he had poisoned her drink and was using the antidote as leverage to get his way. Another said that the Duchess and him had planned the Somerset Queen's murder years in advance. The rumors only got more convoluted from there. One thing is for sure the Prince is a man of theatrics. "Probably can't be too picky with his underlings" Avarice's voice sighs. Probably. Although its worth considering that this too is part of the Prince's plan. That night on the dock he didn't strike Orellow as the type to stupidly stumble into a fight like a child. Although trusting a stranger you just met on the street isn't exactly wise. Though if that is how he attained Emboros then it can't be that foolish a tactic. This Prince was quite the enigma. "We should just do away with Bogo-head before he gets the Prince killed" Avarice growls. Too risky. Orellow shakes his head. He's a forest ranger, he's out of his element here. Plus a well known priest disappearing or turning up dead would bring the guards swarming to the Rest. Turning over every nook and cranny to find answers. Bogomil obviously has close ties with many of the townsfolk and guards alike. Taking him out in the city is a Fool's errand. Plus there's too much we don't know about him. Too much of the Prince's plan may hinge on that fool. Orellow only heard the cool night air respond. Its decided then. Orellow smiled. The Priest lives to make the townsfolk forget their worries... "For now" A girl's voice whispers. Orellow closes his eyes and takes a breath. Once more leaving his spot to dive into the fog. He grabs the tankard and whatever food he can from under the tray and climbs himself up on a balcony. This balcony is well within cities shadows and the large shelf that Orellow can partially see through the window's curtains suggest that the door to the house won't be opened unless its moved. He lays his food on a bit of cloth and sips from the tankard. The warm meal and liquor helps cure the chill in his bones from the nights wind. He waits patiently for his quarry. Like any good hunter he waits. Like a wolf in the grass or a spider on its web, he seeps into the shadows and remains still. Waiting. Watching.
9+6=15 Perception 18+4=22 Stealth
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Post by DM-Delfon on Dec 13, 2017 7:59:24 GMT -5
You lurk in the shadows, watching and waiting, but the group you seek doesn't come by the Wayfarer's Rest today. You do note that many shady figured come and go, only staying long enough to maybe drink a single drink before leaving. Near midnight, you recognize your only contact in Clifton within the Fingers of Vecna. She only stays for a few minutes before making her way out into the night once more. Two adventuring groups come and go, based on their equipment. The first seems very heavily armoured, with large two-handed weapons. The second group could almost pass as a group of travelers, but the way they move gives it away to your trained eye. Whom do you wish to investigate?
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Dec 13, 2017 12:31:24 GMT -5
Orellow is sipping on his ale casually when he sees his contact. He nearly chokes on the ale and narrows his eyes after wiping his mouth. That is definitely her. "What is she..." Orellow knows that the Fingers are all about secrecy. Gaining info and wealth while telling no one nothing is their bread and butter. But Orellow is an avid follower and that last job should've done fine for a while yet. There was never a payment plan, or a time limit, least none that he was ever told. They should know he's staying at the Rest. Are they looking for him? They can't be... They know how he operates. Orellow needs to get to the bottom of this. He leaves his spot and drops his tankard off on the barrel before taking off into the darkness. He waits for her to leave the Rest before following along from a distance. He uses his considerable tracking skills to figure out where shes going next. If he manages to get her in a dark alley alone he'll approach her. Otherwise he stalks her like prey. Orellow has realized he is no good at being sneaky in a city so he'll just follow her tracks and remain out of sight.
Survival: Nat 20+6 to track (Yay advantage!)
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Post by DM-Delfon on Dec 15, 2017 20:59:13 GMT -5
You begin to follow your prey, even though tracking in a city is all but impossible you somehow manage to pull it off. Several times you try to guess her intended route so you can bound ahead and set an ambush, but each time she confounds you. She must be as paranoid as you, doubling back and circling the same block to check for tails. At one point you completely loose her, but find a ruffian nursing a black eye that happily points you in the direction of the crazy woman that punched him. Eventually you follow her to a nondescript three story block house, which she knocks at the door and waits to be admitted. The man that answers is dressed in the finest livery you've seen outside the high district.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Dec 18, 2017 4:06:40 GMT -5
Orellow visibly cringes. He can recognize that kind of wardrobe and this far in the slums. Must be a Black Spot. A secret meeting place for underworld lord-types. He never liked those places, even if it was all his Mother did. He was her Enforcer, she did the talking and he gutted the targets and created distractions for her. He almost smiles looking back on it. But, he never belonged in those places, no matter how his mother insisted he did. He belonged among the green where he could breathe. These places always stunk of death and lies drowned in expensive scents that never failed to make him cringe. Orellow decides to take to the rooftops, watching all around the area for all the exits from the building, and watches for his target to leave. He'll and try and find a place where he can see all the exits at once. If he can't he'll watch the other exits. people rarely leave out the same door they went in on. Of course if he can find an open window that can see her it wouldn't go amiss. These places don't have open windows save for the top most floors where the rich like to look down on the common rabble and usually they wear masks and the like but he knew how she moved and what she looked like it shouldn't be too hard to spot her from under a mask. Assuming this was even a Black Spot or whatever the Clifton equivalent was.
Perception: 6+6=12. Watch the exit/check the windows Stealth: 20+6=26. general sneakiness near a hot bed of criminal activity Insight: 14+6=20 to spot his target disguised.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Dec 18, 2017 7:24:18 GMT -5
This place is sealed up tight, not even a sliver of light can be seen through the curtained windows. As to exits, there are three. The main door at the front, a rear exit and a small servants exit in an alley along the side of the building. When you reach the rooftop, you climb up directly behind a man in studded leather armour. He was standing so still in the shadow of a chimney that you completely missed him until you were close enough to touch him.
(Hurray for both of you failing to see one another until after it was too late.)
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Dec 18, 2017 8:17:12 GMT -5
Orellow draws his Rapiers quietly and lays the blade of one on the man's shoulder. "Do not move. Not even a fraction" Orellow whispers with every intention to kill the man should he try and look at Orellow. "I hunt my own quarry this night and I mean not to kill more than I need too" His voices hardens. "But do not mistake my kindness for weakness, I will gut you like boar without a second thought if you cause me dismay" His voice finds some of his usual lightness once more as he says. "I will stay here with you till my target or yours leaves, once that is done we go our own ways and hope not to see each other again. How does that sound?" He asks with a grin.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Dec 19, 2017 15:06:41 GMT -5
The man jumps when your blade touches him, and his hand drops to his own hilt, and other flicking a blade up into his hand in a well practices motion. "Whoh, easy now friend. Nobody needs to die today." His blade vanishes back wherever it came from, and his other hand raises up away from the hilt. "As long as you're not trying to get into the building across the street there." He points to where your quarry entered, "Then you and I have no issues, although if you don't put your blade away the other rooftop guards might take offence." He gestures to a dark patch under some stairs, where you can just make out the tip of a crossbow bolt sticking out from the deep shadows there. It's pointed at where you stand. His gesture moves to another rooftop, where a man steps out from the shadows. This man holds something small up for you to see, before putting it to his lips. It's too small to see from here, but your best guess is that it's a whistle. "Now, you put your blades away and we can observe the area together. How does that sound, friend?"
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