Spellburn Game Thread
Without a word, Ox turned and started for the town proper. "Keep on the path. And stop chasing shadows." He muttered, inclining his head towards Duran.
The smell of Almarath's tobacco smoke wafted around them as they moved. Up ahead, the town of Kingsilver stood quiet and deceptively uninhabited. Two long streets branched off on either side of a large two-story building that stood before the town. "Kingsilver Inn" was written in sloppy white paint across a weathered wooden sign. A barn stable sat off to the side, its rickety doors hanging open on loose hinges. The whole place spoke of abandonment. Broken barrels sat against the stables, dust and sand collected high against corners, and the wood of the buildings was warped and bent. The two streets leading past the Inn featured similar buildings in various states of disrepair.
As the group approached, a light flickered to life in the window of the Inn. The door opened slowly, and a scarecrow thin man appeared, dressed in a wool cloak. Pale and bald, the man wrung his hands before him, trying to keep them warm.
"Eeeh, what brings strangers so far from the beaten path?" The man asks, "State your business in Kingsilver, strangers, or be on your way."
The smell of Almarath's tobacco smoke wafted around them as they moved. Up ahead, the town of Kingsilver stood quiet and deceptively uninhabited. Two long streets branched off on either side of a large two-story building that stood before the town. "Kingsilver Inn" was written in sloppy white paint across a weathered wooden sign. A barn stable sat off to the side, its rickety doors hanging open on loose hinges. The whole place spoke of abandonment. Broken barrels sat against the stables, dust and sand collected high against corners, and the wood of the buildings was warped and bent. The two streets leading past the Inn featured similar buildings in various states of disrepair.
As the group approached, a light flickered to life in the window of the Inn. The door opened slowly, and a scarecrow thin man appeared, dressed in a wool cloak. Pale and bald, the man wrung his hands before him, trying to keep them warm.
"Eeeh, what brings strangers so far from the beaten path?" The man asks, "State your business in Kingsilver, strangers, or be on your way."
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- Deft-Handed Cutpurse
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Almarath took his last drag from his cigarette and tossed it aside. He regarded the man with cold eyes and spoke in a quiet voice.
"We are lookin' for some children that were takin' by some wights, just outside of town. The dwarf here thinks he seen one of 'em runnin' around your town. By chance you seen 'em?"
His slender hand rested on the butt of one of his pistols, his rifle slung over his shoulder and his hat pulled low. Almarath knew a dead town when he seen one and this was probably the worst of them all.
~~~~
Aristrina glanced at the innkeep and kept silent. She reached out with her senses and looked for the aura of undeath about him.
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Duran grunted at the elfess, her thoughts mirroring his own as he shifted from one foot to the other, nervously. He didn't like the looks of this place. Not one bit.
"Aye, ye seen the children or not, Innkeep? We want to be leaving this place as soon as we can."
"We are lookin' for some children that were takin' by some wights, just outside of town. The dwarf here thinks he seen one of 'em runnin' around your town. By chance you seen 'em?"
His slender hand rested on the butt of one of his pistols, his rifle slung over his shoulder and his hat pulled low. Almarath knew a dead town when he seen one and this was probably the worst of them all.
~~~~
Aristrina glanced at the innkeep and kept silent. She reached out with her senses and looked for the aura of undeath about him.
~~~~
Duran grunted at the elfess, her thoughts mirroring his own as he shifted from one foot to the other, nervously. He didn't like the looks of this place. Not one bit.
"Aye, ye seen the children or not, Innkeep? We want to be leaving this place as soon as we can."
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- Far-Sighted Wanderer
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Arisitrina, your senses spread out before you. The innkeeper gives off no sensation of undeath. Despite the undeniable presence of death beyond Kingsilver's gates, the town seems free of its taint somehow.
The strange man frowned at the elf and dwarf who spoke. "Eegh, ain't been any children about this town for some time, and certainly none brought here by... foul things."
He retreated a step inside the door, "If you're here sniffing about for trouble, then it's your own funeral. Kingsilver doesn't take kindly to strangers, so you've been fairly warned. My rooms aren't open to folk such as yourselves, you can sleep in the barn if you're looking for accomodations."
The strange man frowned at the elf and dwarf who spoke. "Eegh, ain't been any children about this town for some time, and certainly none brought here by... foul things."
He retreated a step inside the door, "If you're here sniffing about for trouble, then it's your own funeral. Kingsilver doesn't take kindly to strangers, so you've been fairly warned. My rooms aren't open to folk such as yourselves, you can sleep in the barn if you're looking for accomodations."
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The gunslinger nodded to the mounted druid.
"Alright then, let's spread out just a little bit. No more than ten feet from the man...or woman...on your right or left. Keep it straight and narrow. Let's start lookin' for them kids. This place is downright givin' me the creeps."
He unslung his rifle and held it out before him.
"And if anything moaning, dripping with blood, or otherwise undead lookin' pops out, blow its head clean off its shoulders and ask questions later. I don't feel much like talkin' to 'em anyways."
The search begins.
"Alright then, let's spread out just a little bit. No more than ten feet from the man...or woman...on your right or left. Keep it straight and narrow. Let's start lookin' for them kids. This place is downright givin' me the creeps."
He unslung his rifle and held it out before him.
"And if anything moaning, dripping with blood, or otherwise undead lookin' pops out, blow its head clean off its shoulders and ask questions later. I don't feel much like talkin' to 'em anyways."
The search begins.
[OOC: I like Almarath's decision to take charge.]
Ox pushed his hat down lower, dusted off his hands, and stalked towards the barn on all fours, a low growl in his throat. He hated this place. It was unnatural and dead, a frozen corpse that refused to rot but was already too spoiled to eat. His homeland, Stormwind, had no such places. Those that were ever found were cleansed with fire brought from crack of lightning, the rage of the Totemka bringing nature back to its rightful place.
As soon as he had found the children, Ox knew he would burn this town to the ground, undead and all. He'd chase the living evils from this place into the forests north, the place where nature was angry, Skullwood. It would take them away.
For now, though, he pushed open the barn door with one hand, then crept in, letting his eyes adjust slowly to the darkness. No horses sat in here, but a lot of horse-riding equpiment did. Saddles and stirrups, bits, horseshoes, even fresh hay stacked in a corner.
Ox's Search Check: 9
Save for horse equipment, there seems to be nothing more to this stable. Ox doesn't find anything that would suggest anyone had even been in this barn recently, save for the fresh hay sitting in plain sight.
Ox sniffed the air, frowning at the stale stink. He ground his teeth in his mouth, his mind wandering to old days.
Ox pushed his hat down lower, dusted off his hands, and stalked towards the barn on all fours, a low growl in his throat. He hated this place. It was unnatural and dead, a frozen corpse that refused to rot but was already too spoiled to eat. His homeland, Stormwind, had no such places. Those that were ever found were cleansed with fire brought from crack of lightning, the rage of the Totemka bringing nature back to its rightful place.
As soon as he had found the children, Ox knew he would burn this town to the ground, undead and all. He'd chase the living evils from this place into the forests north, the place where nature was angry, Skullwood. It would take them away.
For now, though, he pushed open the barn door with one hand, then crept in, letting his eyes adjust slowly to the darkness. No horses sat in here, but a lot of horse-riding equpiment did. Saddles and stirrups, bits, horseshoes, even fresh hay stacked in a corner.
Ox's Search Check: 9
Save for horse equipment, there seems to be nothing more to this stable. Ox doesn't find anything that would suggest anyone had even been in this barn recently, save for the fresh hay sitting in plain sight.
Ox sniffed the air, frowning at the stale stink. He ground his teeth in his mouth, his mind wandering to old days.
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(OOC: Thank ya, felt like the right thing to do!)
Almarath followed the vaquero into the barn and watched as the brawler searched about, hoping to find some sign of the children.
The gunslinger held his rifle steady with one arm and poked about the hay pile and the piles of crates and various stable supplies, searching for something that the vaquero might have missed.
Search Check: 1d20 (15) + 11 = 26
Almarath followed the vaquero into the barn and watched as the brawler searched about, hoping to find some sign of the children.
The gunslinger held his rifle steady with one arm and poked about the hay pile and the piles of crates and various stable supplies, searching for something that the vaquero might have missed.
Search Check: 1d20 (15) + 11 = 26
Almarath, you find a few old tools in the crates: a shovel, some horseshoe nails and a hammer, and a rusty wood saw.
You poke at the fresh hair, startling a mouse, which fled in a panic from its soft home and disappeared under a crack in the floorboards.
Ox grunted. "Place doesn't make any sense."
On impulse you look skyward to the barn loft, and spot more of the fresh hay. A lot more. Where'd it come from?
You poke at the fresh hair, startling a mouse, which fled in a panic from its soft home and disappeared under a crack in the floorboards.
Ox grunted. "Place doesn't make any sense."
On impulse you look skyward to the barn loft, and spot more of the fresh hay. A lot more. Where'd it come from?
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The gunslinger did his best to hide his smirk as the vaquero got down in front of him and squated, looking like one of the figures on those cheap wooden totem poles that the vendors in most frontier towns tried to sell any out of towners.
The slender elf moved quickly onto the vaquero's shoulders and tried to pull himself up into the loft.
Climb Check: 1d20 (19) + 1 = 20
The slender elf moved quickly onto the vaquero's shoulders and tried to pull himself up into the loft.
Climb Check: 1d20 (19) + 1 = 20
[Le'see here, one effeminate-weight elf... what's the DC on that?]
Ox Strength Check: 20! + 4 = "I am Ahnold! Get down!"
Without so much as a grunt, Ox pushes to his feet, lifting Almarath up so his chest touches the edge of the loft.
From there Almarath, it's a simple task for you to to sling your rifle and pull yourself up onto the loft.
The loft is covered with piles and piles of fresh hay, enough for a whole winter, if winter ever came to the Badlands. The smell of fresh hay, stale air, and something coppery lingers up here.
"You see anything?" Ox asks.
[By the way, is Arisistrina a body-builder? Like... Starla from Napoleon Dynamite? Heh heh.]
Ox Strength Check: 20! + 4 = "I am Ahnold! Get down!"
Without so much as a grunt, Ox pushes to his feet, lifting Almarath up so his chest touches the edge of the loft.
From there Almarath, it's a simple task for you to to sling your rifle and pull yourself up onto the loft.
The loft is covered with piles and piles of fresh hay, enough for a whole winter, if winter ever came to the Badlands. The smell of fresh hay, stale air, and something coppery lingers up here.
"You see anything?" Ox asks.
[By the way, is Arisistrina a body-builder? Like... Starla from Napoleon Dynamite? Heh heh.]
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Almarath pulled himself up into the loft without so much as a grunt. He unslung his rifle again and began to poke through the hay, which just seemed way out of place.
Search Check: 1d20 (17) + 11 = 28
Duran glanced out in the elf's direction and asked, "Wee bit too much hay for this weather, eh elf?"
Almarath only nodded as he continued his search.
(OOC: Not quite. She's too fantasy for that type of ugly.)
Search Check: 1d20 (17) + 11 = 28
Duran glanced out in the elf's direction and asked, "Wee bit too much hay for this weather, eh elf?"
Almarath only nodded as he continued his search.
(OOC: Not quite. She's too fantasy for that type of ugly.)
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- Far-Sighted Wanderer
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Almarath, you poke about at the hay cautiously, your rifle leading. The tall mounds of hay could hide anything.
But as you search, your eyes spot a dark stain on the floor of hay. Keeping your eyes on the hay piles, you kneel, pluck up a handful of stained hay, and take a sniff.
Blood.
Your vision suddenly blurs, and there's a flash in your eyes. Suddenly your kneeling beside four small children and a hunched figure in a dark overcoat. He's drawn a knife and is running it across the chubby forearm of a small boy, who doesn't scream, even though tears run down his face. All of the children are crying and frightened, but they don't make a sound, perhaps fearful of doing so in the presence of such a sadistic fiend.
"Shallow cuts, shallow cuts..." The man whispers, in a vaguely familiar voice.
You hear gunshots in the distance, coming from the same road you and your companions travelled. The children and the man turn towards the sound, and you see very same inn keeper who "greeted" you to Kingsilver. His ugly, pale face contorts into a snarl and he grabs at the children, pulling them to their feet.
"Get up, get up!" He hisses, then pauses, as though forgetting something.
He whirls and lashes out at you with the knife, snarling.
Attack: 13 + 1 = 14
Damage: 2
The knife rakes across your chest, and the suddeness of the attack startles you. You take a step back -
- And find there's no floor behind you.
Ox's Spot Check: 17 + 1 = 18
Strength Check 18 + 4 = 22
Waiting patiently, Ox suddenly sees Almarath plummet from the loft, and reaches up, catching the light elf easily in both hands.
"What the hell? Y'could've warned me first." Ox muttered.
But as you search, your eyes spot a dark stain on the floor of hay. Keeping your eyes on the hay piles, you kneel, pluck up a handful of stained hay, and take a sniff.
Blood.
Your vision suddenly blurs, and there's a flash in your eyes. Suddenly your kneeling beside four small children and a hunched figure in a dark overcoat. He's drawn a knife and is running it across the chubby forearm of a small boy, who doesn't scream, even though tears run down his face. All of the children are crying and frightened, but they don't make a sound, perhaps fearful of doing so in the presence of such a sadistic fiend.
"Shallow cuts, shallow cuts..." The man whispers, in a vaguely familiar voice.
You hear gunshots in the distance, coming from the same road you and your companions travelled. The children and the man turn towards the sound, and you see very same inn keeper who "greeted" you to Kingsilver. His ugly, pale face contorts into a snarl and he grabs at the children, pulling them to their feet.
"Get up, get up!" He hisses, then pauses, as though forgetting something.
He whirls and lashes out at you with the knife, snarling.
Attack: 13 + 1 = 14
Damage: 2
The knife rakes across your chest, and the suddeness of the attack startles you. You take a step back -
- And find there's no floor behind you.
Ox's Spot Check: 17 + 1 = 18
Strength Check 18 + 4 = 22
Waiting patiently, Ox suddenly sees Almarath plummet from the loft, and reaches up, catching the light elf easily in both hands.
"What the hell? Y'could've warned me first." Ox muttered.
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- Deft-Handed Cutpurse
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Almarath looked at the man with a bewildered glance and the knife descended, cutting a bloody swath across his chest. He fell, his thoughts racing at the somehow familiar sense of falling...
Something from his past...?
He didn't have time to reflect on it as the vaquero caught him and demanded to know what was happening.
"Knife wielding maniac...the innkeeper...he has the kids! Get me back up there!"
He readied his rifle and yelled out to the others.
"Bastard has the children in the loft!"
Something from his past...?
He didn't have time to reflect on it as the vaquero caught him and demanded to know what was happening.
"Knife wielding maniac...the innkeeper...he has the kids! Get me back up there!"
He readied his rifle and yelled out to the others.
"Bastard has the children in the loft!"
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Dexterity Roll: 1d20 (19) + 5 = 24
Not a problem!
Almarath flew through the air, propelled by the vaquero's strength. He landed softly on his feet up in the loft, his rifle level and ready.
Spot Check: 1d20 (15) + 15 = 30, Looking for the guy and the kids.
Initiative Roll, just in case: 1d20 (13) + 7 = 20
Not a problem!
Almarath flew through the air, propelled by the vaquero's strength. He landed softly on his feet up in the loft, his rifle level and ready.
Spot Check: 1d20 (15) + 15 = 30, Looking for the guy and the kids.
Initiative Roll, just in case: 1d20 (13) + 7 = 20
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Almarath's temper surged forth and he cursed quietly in Elven, each word more venomous than the last.
He called down to the vaquero.
"No one is up here and I know there was. Get that elfess up here as soon as you can while I see if they turned invisible or somethin'. And dwarf, I could use some healin'!"
Duran only grunted, raised his wand, and fired off a charge, healing the elf of all his knife wound damage.
Almarath then slung his rifle and began to cast a detect magic spell. He looked about for the telltale signs of magic being present as the elfess looked about with her undead detecting sight.
He called down to the vaquero.
"No one is up here and I know there was. Get that elfess up here as soon as you can while I see if they turned invisible or somethin'. And dwarf, I could use some healin'!"
Duran only grunted, raised his wand, and fired off a charge, healing the elf of all his knife wound damage.
Almarath then slung his rifle and began to cast a detect magic spell. He looked about for the telltale signs of magic being present as the elfess looked about with her undead detecting sight.