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Chapter Five: Melshaef and the Lost Mother

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Otiorin gasped as Powerpaw reacted, then sighed as the whole situation collapsed.


"Can't we have even one plan go off without a hitch?", he groaned as he unhooked the clasp of his cloak and draped it over Bria.


"Heal his mother, then try to keep yourself safe.", he said to the Ko monk, before knocking back the last of the wine and jumping down from the wagon and reaching for his sword.


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Bronze quickly asses the situation and evaluates who may need the most protecting, of his warrior friends he simply stays out of there way. Noting the Hobbits are closest, stations himself, in the event they are attack, in position to intercept. Also recalling that the wagon he is in has so much steel in it that it could be considered a mobile fortress of some kind, uses it's protection, but also stays available in case anyone needs a helping hand. "Mr. Wittle, and Miss. Bonny you might want to get in here, and grab something to fight with. Remind me to make you something you can use to protect yerselves."


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Bria's hands fly up and cover her mouth as she gasps, horrified yet steady, at the sight of the bloodied and bruised "Kitty-face" inside the cage. Summoning up a lifetime of Ko discipline, she tells Luna, "Remember - you are wearing my armor!" Bria hops up and assumes an unarmed fighting stance. Perfectly balanced, hands open, the Ko monk's attention is already on Powerpaw's mother. Thought clad in little, she appears as able to defend herself as Luna.


Hopelessly outnumbered, Powerpaw wades into the sudden fray, madly, savagely, all thoughts of parley or masterminding gone. All he sees is his beloved, broken mother, bleeding and biting, in her prison, surrounded by cruel ogres waiting to drop their greatclubs down on her. It is enough to shake his sanity.


Unlike previous battles, his fellow Wanderers hear no humorous hint of "In Da Face" or talk of tactics. In a sane person's mind, there should be fear - fear of losing one so precious to you. But anyone watching your Kitty-face learns: Powerpaw does not get scared; he gets angry. There is such a maniacal, furious roaring coming from him now as he races to free his mother.


Powerpaw turns back long enough to see Bria. There are stains coming from his eyes where tears should come. But you do not see tears - instead you see tiny trails of blood coming from Powerpaw's eyes in the place of tears.


"Go! Free her!" She cries to him.


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I think B will stay flexible, able to move where he has to be. But close to the wagon, the bars of steel can make a nice throwing device.
 
Bren hadn't expected the situation to devolve into violence quite this soon, though he had figured it would happen sooner or later (though by preference at his party's intentional contriving), and made sure he was aware of where their foes were, just in case. However, the sight of a lady Kitty-face in the cage comes as a complete surprise, not to mention Powerpaw's immediate (and really, understandable) reaction - a surprise he tries to get over as quickly as possible, lest the bad guys take the advantage.

I hadn't ever thought of using Action Points for initiative, but that seems like a great idea to me, seeing as Bren really wants to beat the bad guys' initiative.[dice]6381[/dice]


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    Gerran grins at the opportunity before him. "And that is why they call us the Painless... because it doesn't hurt us! Ha-haa!" Gerran's hand is a blur as something drops from his glove and flies out toward the Wanderers on the wagon, especially Otiorin. There is a blinding flash of white and orange in the night immediately followed by a thunderous explosion at your very feet.


    "    Painless! Run The Elk Down!" His four cohorts nod and smile wickedly as they move into practiced positions around Powerpaw in an attempt to flank and Sneak Attack him.


    Meanwhile, Gerran's Battle Mage attempts to cast despite his being in a bloody grapple with Powerpaw's mother. Being a creature of greater size and strength, she is doing her desperate best to thrash him about so as to cease his spellcasting. Beside her, the four hulking ogres grip their greatclubs and prepare to smash her straight into hell.


    Perhaps it is fear, perhaps it is fabled feline luck but not one of the Painless's sneak attacks succeeds in penetrating Powerpaw's armor and martial defense. That swinging maul combined with his savage hissing and roaring keeps them at bay long enough for him to avoid damage from them this round. However, one of them moves just the wrong way as they surround him, and Powerpaw sees and takes full advantage of that opening long enough to send his crushing maul against the side of the rogue. He staggers and wheezes from the hit, but carries on.


    The battle mage in his mother's none-too-gentle grasp focuses his mind, spirals his hand about while not losing the precious component in it, and goes about working his magical spell upon the Wanderers. That is, until Powerpaw's mother notices. She gasps in fear, crunches down harder, and throttles him about like a rag doll. The battle mage's focus flies about like a bird in a hurricane and his mighty spell... is lost.


    "GeRrrRRRRAAANN!! Heeeelp meeeeeeee!!"


    "Brutes! I want her squashed smaller than a hobbit! Now!"





 
Most of the Wanderers resist the powerful effects of whatever Gerran threw their way, but not all. While every one of you feel like you have been slapped on the chest by a giant's hand, only Bria and Bren take the full brunt of the blast - they are sent skidding and knocked flat on their backs. Otiorin shields his eyes and drops his stance in time, yet learns that the illumination has yet another use besides blinding...


"Gods of Darkness!" Gerran's pleased laugh is a harsh thing to hear. "You are no merchant at all, sirrah... but a worthless half-elf!"





"His worth exceeds yours, Gerran!" Bria looks up, her hand whirling with holy energy as she reaches out to Powerpaw's mother with the most-powerful magic at her disposal. "Asteallo verris lasai ris shantala!"





Powerpaw's mother, her maw full of dastardly battle mage, lets out a muffled "Oooooh!!" with a surprised tone born of magically-renewed health and vigor. She renews her distracting grapple on the smaller villain and now the shrieking battle mage is being shaken up, down, and all-around until he hardly knows which way is up.


"Aaayayayayaaaaa!" he cries, knowing himself to be an easy target.


Gerran scoffs. "A curing spell at that range? Just what are you, girl?" Bria does not bother answering him.


It becomes Luna's turn to attempt to change the tide of battle.
 
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The urge to throw a Fireball spell into the middle of the approaching Ogres, but giving the combat bonus of the Haste spell to her party will benefit all of the Wanderers, not just her. Marshalling her powers, she raises up her hands and releases the pent up magic. "Haste!" Then, with that cast, she dives to the side to get some distance away from the approaching bad guys.

Casting Haste on the party, giving everyone +1 to your Armor Class, +1 to your Reflex Saves, +30" to your ground movement, and most importantly, +1 full attack with all your bonuses. This lasts for the next 7 rounds.


Level 0 - Message, Mage Hand, Detect Magic, Ray of Frost


Level 1 - Shield x2, Enlarge Person x2, Unseen Servant, Gravity Bow


Level 2 - Extended Mage Armor, Scorching Ray x2, Blur


Level 3 - Fireball, Flame Arrow


Level 4 - Extended Displacement, Ball Lightning


Force Missile x8
 



  • Luna calls upon her heavily-practiced magic and without warning, the world around every one of you slows... down...


    The team of horses seem to neigh in slow-motion, the Painless slash and stab at Powerpaw, their blades ringing off of his armor, but these sounds are warbled and dreamlike. And then you realize what has happened - time seems to have been altered in a powerful way for you (but not your enemies). How long will this effect last? Most of you don't know. But until it ends, this battlefield has just gotten a lot easier to manage. Such is the power of arcane magic!


    Powerpaw is no exception. Luna just turned him into a speeding vessel of rage and destruction as he attempts to cleave through both Painless and ogre to reach his frightened mother...

    Berserk, hot-for-blood, and hasted, I'm thinking Powerpaw qualifies as a "Super Beast" in this moment. How about you? =)


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    "MOAAAAAAAAAARR!! "ARRR!! HISSSSS!!"





    No fun or silly cries pour from Powerpaw as he blasts and hammers his way towards his mother. No "In da face," or anything like it. Only bloody tears from his maddened eyes... Meanwhile at the other end of his maul, men and ogre fly. Rebounding his hammer off of each Painless, Powerpaw Cleaves each Painless and one falls not to stir again. The hulking ogre turns to the cat and takes a bone-crunching blow to its ribs followed by an all-too-speedy hammer to the skull which puts it flat onto the ground. Powerpaw steps on his corpse on the way to his mother's cage.


    "MmmmOM!!"


 
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What I wish I could do... (Takes careful aim with this hipster fluffy pillow nuclear fluffiness at the baddie leader and lets fly, the AOE effect of the fluffy pillow is evident and WHAPTS all the back guys for a distraction shot that does... NOTHING! Cept be silly) But this is a serious moment, and I'll do what backup units do, keep and eye on things. O.o <-- eyes keeping eye on things.
 
"Do what please you, forest sprites, but swiftly, lest a reckless blade robs the world of your wondrous forms!", the Half-Elf chided in his mother tongue, "And as for you motherless dogs, a taste of your own medicine!"


He snatched one of his precious Thunderstones from the pouch on his belt and hurled it between the onrushing ogres and the menacing Painless.


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  • "Finally!" the Daughters of Summertime shout together in Elven, their hands clasped in a moment of joy. The kisses come one by one, each awakening Otiorin to perform mightier deeds against the foes of the forest.


    The first kiss is placed upon his main hand. "One from the water - precious and blue - a ward against evil be upon you!"

    A Protection from Evil, 10 foot radius spell has been placed upon Otiorin.


    The duration of this bonus is 24 hours.
    The second kiss is put upon the Moonlit Edge which suddenly emits an icy trail of white frost about 1 foot in length. "One for the blade - a gift from his mother - seeking high and low for the fire of another!"

    The Moonlit Edge is now a +3 weapon.


    The Moonlit Edge now does an additional d6 of cold damage upon every strike.


    The duration of this bonus is permanent.
    The third Daughter plants her lips firmly upon his cheek. "One from the forest - straight to our friend - whence deep love flows without end!"

    Select any one of Otiorin's six attributes.


    Add a +3 to bonus to that attribute.


    The duration of this bonus is permanent.
    They cheer and wave together. "Thank you for freeing us, Forest-friend Otiorin!" Then they giggle and vanish into thin air. Otiorin's ears tell him the tale of their rapid flight away from the battle and to safety.


    Otiorin's thunderstone flies high into the night and... with the unhappy luck of either bad aim or insufficient impact, fails to discharge.

    In other words, you "missed." The die roll and its total result was not high enough to trigger the stone's effect. It remains there lying on the ground where Otiorin hurled it.


     
    The sextet of ogres come on, roaring and stomping, waving their greatclubs and eager to plant them into anything that looks like it might scream. As they charge the Adventurers' Wagon, one of those huge, heavy feet steps on that little thunderstone...


    *KA-THOOM!!*


    ...and that stomping foot causes the sonic powerhouse to detonate, catching all six in its blast! Ogres reel, holding their ears, and shouting at one another. "Haaay!" "Whooo farted?!" "Waaat?!" "Shaddap!" "Can't hear yoooo!" Still, they get their act together long enough to continue their assault.


    The Painless to Powerpaw's immediate west is also caught in the blast...


    "Agh! Damn you!"


    ...and barely escapes the shockwave with his hearing.


    Now the team of ogres (deaf and not-deaf) move in, swinging at everything that is not ogre or Painless. This unfortunately includes one charging ogre on Powerpaw and four on Mamapaw.


    The four on Mamapaw begin beating on the cage.


    Gerran yells at them. "No, you pig-headed dolts! Open the cage then kill what is inside!"


    To which they grin stupidly (and some toothlessly) and respond, "Oh yah!" "Wat him saaaay?" "He say he like you!" "You lie!" "Somebuddy tell me whooo farted! Dat was a loud one!" "Ogres! Kill!" "Oh yah, kill!"


    They remove the clamping bolt, open the top of the cage, and begin pounding and clubbing Mamapaw. Fearfully and mage in mouth, she tries to shrink down, but it does her little good. "Mrrrph!"


    The ogres cheer and clamor as beat the ever-loving tar out of the helpless cat. They smash her harder and harder. She falls to the earth, bloodied, bruised, and dying. The last ogre fully removes the bolt which causes the wooden cage to collapse in neatly-stowable walls (and allows them to make sure she is dead next round). The battle mage is thus released from her grip and prepares to unleash his considerable fury.


    Powerpaw loses his sanity... "MOOOM!!"
 
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  • "No!" Bren shouts as Mamapaw falls to the ground. "Forest Mother bless you, Bria, you've kept her from dying - again, if you can! Otiorin, see what you can do about their leader." That last is over his shoulder as he leaps to his feet and off the wagon, charging through the melee at twice the speed he ought to. Dodging any attacks that come his way, he otherwise ignores every foe until the last, when he is standing protectively over Mamapaw. With all the enchanted momentum he has, the big fighter swings on the ogre to the upper left of the cage, intending to send him stumbling backwards (or at the least, draw his ire), leaving himself in melee with the other ogre and the battlemage. "See how you do against a worthy foe, cowardly fiends!"


 
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  • The heroic son of Killane rises to his feet and charges through the threatened areas of no less than five different opponents to reach his fallen, furry goal. Blades and greatclubs come stabbing and seeking his life.


    As Bren moves through Powerpaw's extremely-dangerous threatened space, the snarling cat offers no friendly greeting and only a sudden killing glance before the cat recognizes who it is. He leaves Bren be.


    The ogres and Painless try their best, hacking and slamming, and Bren takes a real beating moving through the battlefield, but he comes out whole (such is the ability of a truly-skilled fighter). His axe strikes the ogre who howls in surprise and pain.


    "Arrr! Hay! Who dis guy?!"


    The attack fails to move the ogre, but now Bren has this brute's fullest attention...


 
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With so much happening in so little time, it gives Wolf pause to ponder his move. He identifies the threat to Powerpaw's mother as the most immediate, so that's where he focuses his effort. He aims for the same ogre that Bren already riled up and makes best use of his own skills as well as the haste effect to drop the monster.

Attack Bonus: +7 BAB +3 DEX +2 ench. weapon +1 haste -2 manyshot feat


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Damage Bonus: +2 ench. weapon +4 manyshot feat


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Attack Bonus: +2 BAB +3 DEX +2 ench. weapon +1 haste -2 manyshot feat


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Using action point to improve attack:


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Damage Bonus: +2 ench. weapon +4 manyshot feat


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Attack Bonus: +7 BAB +3 DEX +2 ench. weapon +1 haste -2 manyshot feat


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Rolling to confirm critical strike, otherwise regular damage below:


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Damage Bonus: +2 ench. weapon +4 manyshot feat


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O.K. This song may be from a sci-fi flick, but I love the chorus and I can't help but think of it as Wolf lets loose. "Right on target..." It fits archery. =)


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The ogre stares down at the axe-wound Bren gave it and seeing his own blood, roars frightfully. He raises his greatclub to wallop Bren...


*Thud!* *Thud!*


... only to get shot in the arm with two arrows. He grunts in pain, looks at the arrows, and tries to think. This takes effort. He switches his greatclub to swing from the other direction...


*Toing!*


...And Wolf's third arrow bounces off his other arm. Now, truly enraged, he lets loose a great bellow of anger and raises up the log-of-a-club to pound on Bren.


*Thuk!*


Without warning, the ogre freezes in place as if paralyzed. A confused look appears on those hideous features as his eyes roll slowly back into their sockets. Then, like a tree felled in a forest, the great hulk falls forward and strikes the earth heavily sending clouds of dust in all directions. The Road of Kings trembles.


Then Bren spots an arrowhead protruding from the back of the ogre's thick skull...


 


(Storyteller here: I have just enough time to add this little bit before I go! Enjoy! =) )


Gerran yells at the Wanderers, "To HELL with all you flower-picking, do-gooders! I'm the villain and I'll prove it by hijacking the damn mood music!!





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"That is more like it!! Now take that, you irksome pack of goody-two-shoe, namby-pambies!!"


8D


 



  • Then the tide of the battle changes in a strange way...


    Gerran the Sinister, iron truncheon in hand and something quite different in the other, watches the battlefield with a wide-eyed grin. That is, until another form materializes seemingly out of nowhere, right beside him, causing a snarling curse to burst forth from his lips. "Wench! What do you here?!"

    Storyteller: O.K., that's him minus armor and firearm. This is as close as I could get on Google Images to the Gerran in my mind. Oh, and if pictures like these are too large, let me know?


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    (Image credit: pixshark.com)


    She is silver-haired and very fair except for the malicious glare in her eyes. Her attractive body is encased in form-fitting scale mail of the deepest black hues. A curved short sword adorns one hip while a downright scary-looking leather whip covered with quill-like spikes hangs on the other. Her left arm holds a menacing-looking large shield, yet it is the cold and commanding tone of her voice that chills you the most.






    Storyteller here: This is as close as I can get to a picture of this woman. Though she is elven, she is not Drow (as the picture depicts). She appears to be gray elven.


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    (Image credit: www.gothicat-world.com)


    "I am saving your life. Retreat immediately!"


    "What?!"





    "Loviatar has given me the name of the human who leads this group and you cannot take him. Not even with your whole band. He is Lord Brendoran Sarabina of hated Mielikki and Saint Cuthbert!"


    Gerran spits in rage. "What do I care for some fool lord? Am I to bow and scrape at his feet at the very sound of his name?" The wrathful slaver seethes lustfully. "Look at that magnificent wagon! I would be inside it and inside the pretty thighs of those barely-clad beauties who oppose me..."


    "You will be inside a coffin if you doubt me!"


    "How so?!"


    "Ignorant clod! How could you have not heard of the horrific fall of Gaunth the Draco-lich, the hellion of the Underdark and ruler of the Army Macabre? Gaunth was more than a dragon and one party bested him! The Light in the Dark! And who are they led by? That man! If he can destroy Gaunth then he can take every last one of you! You can only hope to wound him before you die under his axe..."


    It takes mighty words from mighty people to give Gerran the Sinister cause for pause, but this is such a time. He glares in a mixture of doubt and surprise at the warrior who had just charged past five of his own and emerged whole without so much as a dagger nick in him. And this same fellow was responsible for the death of an undead dragon?! What chance had he?


    Gerran lets his iron truncheon lower as he stares hatefully at the heavens as he proclaims, "The Gods have fucked me!"


    "Withdraw your men. Leave the ogres. I will cover us with the Craven."


    Gerran growls something dangerous. "It grates the soul to leave a battle without at least taking something your foe might love... Work your magic, wench! Get us out of here... but in the meantime..." Gerran snarls at his cohorts, "Painless! There will be no rest in the graveyard tonight!"


    His remaining Painless look back to him with astonished expressions, but he nods grimly in confirmation. Only the rogues in your party might know what was said...






    That was Thieves Cant, the secret language of the Rogue class, and it meant, "We must flee or join the dead."


    The Painless act as a team. One drops a bagful of caltrops at Powerpaw's large feet, another throws something down at Powerpaw's feet (and in doing so leaves an opportunity to be attacked by Powerpaw), and the last grabs his fallen cohort and slings him over his shoulder. Suddenly, the item at the Kitty-face's feet bursts into a cloud of dark green smoke which lasts just long enough to provide concealment as the three Painless make their way off, but not before the rogue that left himself open gets a maul to the face. He reels, holding his head and missing teeth. Another blow like that will be his last.


    Gerran's battle-mage does not seem to be aware of the turn of events, but he knows Painless running when he sees them. "Hey, wait!" Then, realizing he is on the wrong side of the battlefield, he decides to make the best out of it. He moves past Bren as far as he can (provoking an opportunity attack from Bren) and after the damage is done, he casts a wicked spell. A small glowing wisp appears from his fingers and arcs high into the night before heading unerringly toward the front of the Adventurers' Wagon. The Wanderers know well what this is having seen it from the other end plenty of times before...


    It is an incoming Fireball spell!


    It explodes in the air in a huge onrush of painful orange flame before it strikes the wagon, enveloping the Wanderers but sparing the horses...


    Finally, Gerran acts and tosses something out of his free hand at the Wanderers at the same Wanderers hit by the battle-mage's Fireball. A noxious combination of yellow-gray mist covers everyone there (in a 20 foot radius), but Otiorin (Gerran's true target) gets an additional surprise when something gunky begins to rapidly harden around Otiorin's calves and feet...


    Then some of the ogres turn to Gerran angrily! "Yooo leave?!"


    "The Craven is coming!"


    This does nothing but add ugly joy to the faces of smashing brutes. "WE will win!!"


    Yet Gerran and the gray elf in black armor run like hell back toward the woods. Once farther away from the wagon, the woman casts a spell of the darkest magic...
 
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  • As the Fireball explodes in a great, dull roar, and the noxious cloud permeates the area, Gerran and the gray elf watch as the Wanderers dive and move to best effect and take the least amount of ill effects possible. "I'll be damned!" You were right, wench. But what of the Craven? Were we not to use it to finish the job we started at Melshaef's Tree? Once we track him down and find him, how are we to destroy him without it?"


    "That is your problem to suffer," she sneers. "It is your fault we have to use the Craven at all..."

    For those involved in local, religious, or woodly matters, the name Melshaef offers up tales of a recently-come mystical Forest-friend, a Druid of great secrecy and capable of terrific compassion. Melshaef's Tree is, or perhaps was, a safe haven for both animals and wayfarers along the Road of Kings... Some say he is a Wood elven champion from another age; others, a penitent old man doing as much good as he can before he passes on. One thing for certain is known - the name Melshaef is becoming coveted among the poor and the lost.


    Bria hears this along with the rest of you and calls out, "Does anyone know what a Craven is?!"


    Gerran snaps back. "You will find out soon enough, you cheap trollop! It is only saddening that you will fall to it instead of warming my bed! Aha ha haaaa!"


    But Bria ignores him yet again. She rises to her feet, runs east out of the cloud, and focuses her energies on where they might best be of use... "Asteallo verris lasai ris shantala!"





    And there, at Brendoran's feet, a large, furry creature stirs once more...


    "Uhhhh," she moans sadly and looks up. Right into the maddened eyes of her son. So close. Yet so far away from her touch.









    Mood music. Yeah. We got it back. =)


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    "Son..."


    Something in Powerpaw breaks again. His ears perk at the sound of her voice and in it comes the realization.     She is alive! The eyes of the warrior fade and for a brief, but shining moment, there is the gaze of Powerpaw, the baby cub, looking fondly at his wonderful, beautiful, ever-gentle mother. And in that moment, Powerpaw is no longer the terrifying, half-mad gladiator-become-champion, but a tiny ball of white and black fluff with sharp claws and many purrs for the warm creature that bore him and loved him always in her cradling, cuddling arms. Years of dear memories wash upon him in seconds.


    She looks back and she is, in that moment, not the frightened, nigh-helpless captive who was just beaten nearly to death, but the proud, cherishing parent of that grinning, goofy, fearless little warrior son of hers. Bria's magic has returned her health, but now that she is so very close to her son, her will to life multiplies. All she wants to do is jump up and hug him, hold him in her arms, speak to him, and close the door on the eternal ache of missing him.


    Battling and crashing to get to her, just to reach her, Powerpaw rises out of his sea of fury and speaks.     "Mom! Stay down! I iz almost dere!"


    "At least... at least I get to see you again before we die together!"





    Powerpaw's reply sounds joyous. "No, Mom, no! You doezn't get it! We ain't gonna die - DEY ARE! I haz friends now!"


    "Real friends?!"


    To all of the Wanderers, Powerpaw cries,     "Guys! It's my mom!! She iz alive after all!" And then to Luna. "Lunaaaa! C'mon! You gotta show dem what a real Fireball looks like!" He turns back to his mother. "Watch dis, Mom! We iz gonna send dem all ta HELL!"


    And there on the ground among ogres, live and dead, Mom watches!

    Storyteller here: O.K. Many years ago, I saw this movie (Young Einstein) and this scene stuck in my hyperactive head and it hasn't left since. This scene we are now in is a result of that part here you'll hear in the beginning: "G'bye Ma!" "Goodbye... oh my son..." I heard that... and her weeping just broke my heart all those years ago. Plus, I love the song. Icehouse's "Great Southern Land." =)


    And now, thanks to the science and wonder of the Internet, I can share that scene and its terrific music with you and turn it all into a cool little scene. =)


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Doing her best to hold her breath, Luna races to get out of the cloud before she succumbs to whatever magic it is. With an angry snarl, she says. "Time to stop monkeying around! Take a good look chimps! Monkey see, monkey stew! Fireball!" With that, the fire mage focuses her will into a churning, burning maelstrom of rage and releases it into the crowd of ogres coming into the fray, aiming carefully to keep the blast away from Mamapaw but close enough to catch as many of the Painless in her spell as possible.

If I count my AoE right, if I place the Fireball on the lead ogre of the six pack, it will not only engulf those six, but also the ogre just to the lower left of Mamapaw on the map without hitting her or any other friendlies. If there is any doubt about this, I will move the spell farther back until I am sure it will not hit any allies. At times like this, I wish I have the fireball template that my PnP Storyteller has in his Bag O' Stuff to make sure.


Also, I get to test out my new Signature Ability, shifting any 1's rolled on my damage dice into a 2. EDIT: Total Damage is 28 points of damage, with a Save DC of 20. Booya!


Level 0 - Message, Mage Hand, Detect Magic, Ray of Frost


Level 1 - Shield x2, Enlarge Person x2, Unseen Servant, Gravity Bow


Level 2 - Extended Mage Armor, Scorching Ray x2, Blur


Level 3 - Flame Arrow


Level 4 - Extended Displacement, Ball Lightning


Force Missile x8


Current Damage 15pts out of 39


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  • Luna realizes that while it is currently possible for her spell to strike every one of the oncoming sextet of ogres, that same 20 foot radius spread would not include the Painless fleeing southwest. Still, it is better to strike an oncoming threat than not. Luna's Fireball arcs high into the night before it explodes into a bright and furious red-orange conflagration engulfing all six of the tromping, slow-witted ogres. Soon their roars turn to screams as her powerful magic bakes the entire group. They glare at Luna with a combination of anger and dismay.


    Out of Bren's axe-reach and with ogres between himself and his enemies, Gerran's battle-mage changes his tune. Instead of sounding confused and unsure, he now prances past the chaos as he joins his master in retreat, all the while boasting, "My first Fireball was better than that! If this is my competition, then I will surely be the best fire-mage in all Sharseya in no time!"


    Mamapaw's eyes widen in amazement at the blaze. "Ohhhh! Such bright fire!"


    "Yeeeaah! Dat's showin' 'em, Luna-face!" Powerpaw's tone then turns serious. "Mom! Seein' you falls.... I tink... sometin iz.... wrong in me! I tink I haz gone bonkers!!"


    "Talk out your feelings!" she replies, pauses, then adds, "It helps your father!"


    "O.K.! Lissen, Mom! Stays down until Bren-face an' me kill dese guys! Den grab a biggie-stick, get ups, an' kill anyting Bren-face swings at!" He looks back to Bria as if to ask, "right?" Bria spares him an encouraging and eager smile. Powerpaw turns back to the battle at hand. "Mom's alive! Nuffin's gonna stop us, guys! Dis battle is great, great, great!"


    That's when the Wanderers learn that while Powerpaw may be utterly fearless, his mother knows fear just like you, me, and everyone else... Despite the recent heroics of the Wanderers, she quivers like a recently-shot bowstring. Still... she reaches for a great club with wide eyes, mauled paws, and a very worried look to Bren. "'Bren'? Are- are you one of my son's new friends? It is nice to... Ohhh!" Fear steals the words from her as the remaining ogres shout and shake the earth with their tromping... but she is still reaching for that fallen ogre's greatclub...


    "You can do it!" Bria cheers to her.

    1538135.jpg



    (Image credit: knowyourmeme.com)


    Nearby, Powerpaw leaps for joy out of the caltrops and into the midst of the trio of ogres surrounding Bren and his mother. Normally, the ogres would be able to take advantage of this movement, but they spent those attacks uselessly on Bren and now lack them. This leaves Powerpaw free to unleash his Great Cleave upon all three of them and he does so with incredible aggressiveness, his bloody maul whirling in a deadly arc. Such is his rage, he slips and nearly loses his maul in an ogre's face. Still, it does nothing to deter his elated mood.


    "Aw wow guys! If we had a multi-face, I iz tellin' youse, I'd praise Bast right now!!"






    Being where you are from, Bast is not a name any one of the Wanderers knows (save for Bren and Bria).


    It becomes Otiorin's turn to act in the fray.


    EDIT: Mamapaw grabs the fallen ogre's greatclub and stands up. Powerpaw gets his extra action from Luna's Haste spell.
 
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On the platform behind the seat of the Grand Wagon, the cloud of noxious smoke coiled lazily, it's tendrils slowly unravelling as it spread out.


Until something burst through.

A silvery voice laughed in the cool night air. It was rich and feminine, but the laugh was cold as an icicle and edged with the steel of a veteran murderess.


Oh, Gerran, you are such a foolish creature! To think that you are some great villain of this chronicle, when in truth you are but a bit part player at best. At worst, you are little more than a randomly-rolled Wandering Monster event, designed for main-character development and experience point gain. You certainly aren't a threat and you certainly don't have the power to change the mood music. Moonlit Edge's runes throbbed blue-white as each word crystalized in the air. Let me show you the true power to change the way of the world. And thus, she changed the track.


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Otiorin was incensed. To think that these Painless could be so brutal to a captive, and one they had already so callously abused. His fury had reached a new height and he could only think of bringing pain to the Painless. As he sailed out of the poison cloud, streamers of the gas trailing in the wake of his Hasted and enchanted leap, he fixed his gaze upon the mage, cavorting and tossing imprecations at Luna. A grim snarl split his lips and he springboarded himself off the rump of one of the lead horses of the Grand Wagon to land, face to face with the mage.


"Gerran! Before you leave, I have to say something. Your poisoner was inferior. His feeble attempts at making me succumb with his vials were useless, his bardic songs had no effect and his rapier blade couldn't have found my flesh even if I'd been asleep. When I spitted his body on my sword, he whimpered and pleaded for someone to save him. And now his blowpipe and clarinet burn merrily in my fireplace. And now, I'll rob you of another of your minions."


He swept Moonlit Edge around, the frosty rime on her blade leaving a misty trail of ice crystals in her wake and struck upwards under the mage's chin.


[dice]6643[/dice]
 
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That's when the Wanderers learn that while Powerpaw may be utterly fearless' date=' his mother knows fear just like you, me, and everyone else... Despite the recent heroics of the Wanderers, she quivers like a recently-shot bowstring. Still... she reaches for a great club with wide eyes, mauled paws, and a very worried look to Bren. "'Bren'? Are- are you one of my son's new friends? It is nice to... [i']Ohhh!" [/i]Fear steals the words from her as the remaining ogres shout and shake the earth with their tromping... but she is still reaching for that fallen ogre's greatclub...
Click to expand...
Bren nods. "Yes, ma'm, I am that. Mind your defenses, ogres hit quite hard and I'd rather they hit me instead of you!"
 



  • "Yow!" yipes the battle-mage as his surprise of Otiorin's frosty-blue blade is only surpassed by the incredible speed of the rogue/sorcerer as he crosses the battlefield in a flash. "What are you, the mage-chick's boyfriend?! For crying out loud!" he says, glancing back toward Luna.


    The ogres fighting near Bren, Powerpaw, and Mamapaw, tighten their circle around Bren and ferociously attempt to pound him. "Tink yoo kin run past us?" "We squash yoo flat, wittle man!"


    Two out of the three ogres make good on their claim! Bren is rocked twice by the monstrous greatclubs, but it is the heroic fighter/ranger they strike, and not his ward. Mamapaw cries out in horror as Bren is struck, but then she readies her own greatclub.


    "In da face, Mom! Smack 'em in daaaa faaaaace!"





    The large group of larger ogres stagger about in pain and confusion as the light from Luna's Fireball fades. Their skin smokes, some of their clubs are lit by small fires, the stench of burnt ogre flesh emanates across the battlefield. Every last one of them just endured the fullest rage of a true fire-mage and now they look at each other with doubt and shaking knees.


    "Run!" shouts the ogre leader. "Wizard is toooo stroooong!! Let da Craven kill her!"


    And with that, all six of the ogres in the group turn tail and bolt for the woods as fast as ogres can!


    "Hay!" shout the three in melee with Bren and the others. "Where yoo goin'?!"


    "Away from HER!" They point at Luna.


    It becomes Bren's turn to act as he will followed by Wolf. =)


 
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  • Bren grimaces as the blows connect, but remains undaunted, returning the ogres' taunting in their own language: "Heh! Better giants than you have tried!"


    He glances around the battlefield, noting the changes. He wishes he could do something about that mysterious elf and Gerran running off, but unless Wolf or Luna choose to attack them there's little that can be done; and there are more immediate threats to hand (i.e., the battle-mage and those ogres who haven't yet run off). He does wonder about this "Craven" they mentioned...


    Then he essays a few blows of his own. Not having reach, he chooses to focus all his attacks on a single ogre rather than trying to move about and hit more than one.


 
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The name "Craven" means absolutely nothing in Bren's considerable mental store of Knowledge: Monster Lore.


Bren's swirling and slashing display of axe-work is far more than entertaining; it is deadly - as one of the ogres who just dealt him a blow falls with a crash upon the Road of Kings, and the other takes a vicious cut across the chest. The ogre snarls stupidly, ready to return the favor.


Still, as the ogre falls and dies, a bright flicker of joy momentarily crosses Mamapaw's frightened features as she readies herself to follow Bren.


It is now Wolf's turn to act.
 
Ever since Gerran's foul move it became Wolf's first priority to get out of the smoke. This he does by running off the wagon's deck and past the horses to get just outside the reach of the gas*.


From his new position he reaches out to cast his prepared Entangle spell, stopping Gerran, his Painless, and the woman he is with.


*three times diagonally NW, then one time N; this should total 25 ft movement if I got the math right and place wolf right above the yellow line and right left of the left horse
 



  • The battle-mage, with Otiorin hot on his heels, changes tactics. He focuses his mind in a defensive fashion and lets go a short spell. "Catch me if you can!" he yells as he dashes forth at twice his normal speed. It becomes clear to Otiorin that the edge still belongs to the half-elf, only due to his invaluable Boots of Striding and Springing - however, this chase will very shortly reach the woods and there, it becomes anyone's game.


    Gerran replies to Otiorin with a roll of his eyes.     "Hell's gates! So you slew a cowardly pipe-player who lacked the wit to call for help in time! Do you feel like a man now?"


    "Who are you talking to?" asks the gray elven woman with the whip.


    "That fool half-elf who posed as Bilal the Rich."


    Hearing this, she turns to get a good look at Otiorin before saying, "Did you say half-elf? This dragon-slaying Sarabina lord stooped so low as to take on a filthy, roach-ridden half-elf? Hah! I would not hire him to wipe my ass!*"


    Then she casts upon Otiorin with wicked speed and even more wicked intent. Otiorin feels his muscles attempting to lock up, his tendons freeze, his ligaments cease to move as a magical paralysis seeks to take over his entire body. He must fight this magic with his very will to break free or succumb.

    *I cannot take credit for this particular low-blow-of-a-taunt; I believe it is from Jackie Chan's movie,
    =)



    Wolf lets loose the gripping, grasping power of the very forest by casting his Entangle spell. Grass sprouts and roots reach in a massive 40 foot radius spread. Gerran and one of his Painless find themselves entangled in greenery, yet they still flee as fast as they can.


    "Damned forest!" Gerran snarls as he trudges and marches at half-speed.


    "Damn not the woods you know so very little of," sneers the woman with the whip as she dances freely, barely impeded.


    It is in this moment that the forest shakes and the Road of Kings rumbles. Something is coming through Shandra's Evergreen. Or rather... from underneath! The ground where the ogre troop once stood buckles and cracks as something bursts forth from the very ground. It causes the fleeing ogres to scream and make way, the Painless to change their direction, Gerran to cringe in caution, and the woman with the whip to cackle like a hell-born she-devil. "The Craven cometh! All who oppose it are doomed!" She but points at your party and continues fleeing at top speed.


    Climbing out of a tremendously-large pit of smoking earth comes a truly horrible monster, completely unimpeded by Wolf's Entangle spell, immense in size and appetite, and willing to devour all in its path. You might call it a...

    "MULTI-FAAAAAAAAAAAACE!!"

    ​



    hydra_final_by_forrestimel-d7nij8s.png



    (Image credit: forrestimel.deviantart.com)


    NOTE: That's about the size of the thing, but there are two major differences between this picture and what the Wanderers now face (pardon the pun):


    1. This thing is breathing red-hot spouts of fire out of each mouth...


    2. It has ten heads...


    Special note for Sherwood: With her background and skill selection, Luna knows (no roll required) that most creatures that dwell in or breathe fire are completely immune to it, so... (and this is a horrible thing to say to the player of a fire-mage), don't waste your fire spells on it. Your other spells (like Ball Lightning or "Forsch Mishuls") are likely to function normally.
    Powerpaw cries out in insane joy! "Praise Bast! Praise Bast!" Maul in paws, Powerpaw is jumping up and down like a five-year-old at his favorite carnival attraction! For him, this is the best show on Sharseya, and he is front-and-center on stage!


    Mamapaw's reaction is a little more sanity-worthy. "AHHH!" She wails and nearly faints at the sight of it.


    Still, Powerpaw cheers and twirls his maul.     "Mom! Doezn't worry! I haz always wanted ta fight one'a dese tings!! Aw, dis is da best fight EVAR!!"


    "C-- Ca-- Can we not flee from it instead?!"





    "No way, Mom! Dat ting'll burn an' eat our horsies, wagons, friends, evwieting! Dis time, either we killz it or it killz us!" Something in these words holds absolutely true. The Wanderers know they can certainly flee right now... at the cost of everything, and everyone, they leave behind with it... (For the true-hearted, is there really a choice?)


    "What do I do?!"





    "Run like hell ta safety an' puts all yer money on us, Mom!"


    Bria appears stunned as her mind takes on the sheer scope and size of the earth-shaking beast.     "Oh... my... gosh..." she gasps, feeling smaller than a hobbit. "Bren! How are we going to fight it?!" is the only thing she can think to say.


    The ogres in melee with you scream fearfully and damn near have heart attacks as the great monster pours out of the earth. They turn to run for their very lives, troubling you no more.


    Finally, Gerran shouts in a scathing tone to Otiorin. "Find a way to     survive this, half-elf! I would like to see you again - on the end of my sword!" With that, he, the woman, and the Painless keep running for all they are worth. They do not pause further until they are swallowed by the darkness of the night.


 
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