Prologue: An inn and a drink... [original story]

[Callowmoryne]

Strongwind made a sign to Branon to keep quiet, as he gathered some supplies from his saddlebag. He fished out a riding cloak and handed it to Branon.  He motioned for pedowin and Branon to hold position, taking his rope he moved slowly towards the mystery figure in the mist, testing the ground gingerly before him. Moving closer to get a better look.

[tomcat]

As he approached, Strongwind felt the tug on his feet from the thick marsh mud. He looked at the man who stood there, stuck as he was, and could see he was a trapper, or hunter. Skins of small animals hung from his belt along with snares and other implements for trapping.

But something was off.

The man's movements were odd. He was standing there looking towards the mud, but he made no obvious movements to free himself. Where one might grab with their hands to pull their foot free, the man's hands instead grasped at the air in slow awkward motions. It was then, too, that Strongwind saw the brown smear that stained the trapper's collar and tunic. The Daqeen moved slightly to his right to get a better look and saw that the trapper's throat was near to torn out.

Strongwind's foot made a sucking sound and it caught the trapper's attention. The man slowly turned to look in the Daqeen's direction and it was a face from hell that stared hungrily at Strongwind. The mottled flesh was gray, the eyes wide and staring, and the mouth a maw of torn flesh and gore. The trapper, stuck as he was, started to reach out towards Strongwind, grasping at the air as if to get leverage to pull him in that direction. A slight moan escaped the mouth and caused the hairs to stand up on Strongwind's arms.

[Callowmoryne]

Alow hiss escaped strongwinds lips. He droppped his rope, his rescue attempt a distant memory. He rasied his bow and fired two silver arrows in quick succession.

Bone bow atk119%
2d6+1d4+5  silver arrow +2d6 vs undead

Roll(1d100)+0: 21,+0 Total:21
Arrow one
Roll(2d6)+0: 2,2,+0 Total:4+5
Roll(1d4)+0: 4,+0 Total:4
Roll(2d6)+0: 2,3,+0 Total:5
85%to save

Roll(1d100)+0: 1,+0 Total:1 (ouch)
Arrow 2
Roll(2d6)+0: 1,3,+0 Total:4+5
Roll(1d4)+0: 2,+0 Total:2
Roll(2d6)+0: 5,2,+0 Total:7
85% to save

[Callowmoryne]

  First combat so let me know if this is ok or i need to change the way im doing it

[tomcat]

First combat so let me know if this is ok or i need to change the way im doing it

I made some modifications so I can read it better, but I will let you know if there is anything else needing changed.

I will get you some more info later tonight or tomorrow.

[tomcat]

Dude, I forget what the hell the 85% to save means on the arrows. Did it mean the creature had an 85% chance to save against the additional effects, or is it that Strongwind has an 85% chance to save the arrow once fired? Let me know if you have any clarification on this, but for now I am going to call it the latter.



Strongwind's arrows struck the trapper easily. If the first had not killed it, the second arrow assuredly did. It hit the undead creature just under the ear and crashed through the opposite side of the skull, gray matter clinging to the protruding end. The man went limp and fell to his knees and then forward into the bog. The Daqeen would need to wade out into the muck if he were to retrieve the two enchanted arrows that were tempered to slay the undead.

Around them, save for the clicks of frogs and insects along with the occassional bird call, it was quiet and nothing in the fog stirred.

[Callowmoryne]

  It was the former sir, the quiver of many was self replenishing so he had an 85% to save against the extra 2d6


When the abomination fell Strongwind recovered his rope frm the mud where it lay, and made his way back to the priest and his mount. He strained his senes at the fog around him. Stuffing his rope back in his saddlebag, in low voice to his companion "The dead walk here Branon,  follow track of thieves, but be ready and make little sound."

[tomcat]

Self replenishing? Man, I was a damn nice GM back then, huh? Maybe one to many Wild Turkeys! 

I may re-think that 85% chance to save stuff... I might base it on the attributes of the victim instead of a flat 85% chance.



With the zombie dead and no other apparent threats, Strongwind led them on. The two men skirted the wet, and thick marsh following a track that was seen by the Daqeen's keen eyes. The sun overhead, although only a bright white spot in the fog, slowly arched over their heads as they day passed.

The ground began to firm up once more and the Ivlis river could be seen through the woods, defined in its river bed instead of the washed out land of the marsh. The trees dispersed as the men exited the Svalich woods onto the long flat plain on which sat Barovia to their north. They continued along quietly until Strongwind and Branon both spotted the wisp of smoke that rose from a campfire.  They slowed their movement and peered out to see what was there. Branon spoke, "I see a wain... unlimbered and the horses, or mules, wander to the west cropping grass." At his words, Pedowin seemed to understand, and whickered at the scent of the other animals. "I see a number of folk walking about the camp and some to the north of it... they number more than us. We should be careful, less we both be reduced to paupers."



R on the map sinifies a male rogue, F signifies a female

[Callowmoryne]

  Lol yeah may have been a wild turkey night You created buddy, im ok with u modifying it, And thats alotta rogues!! i may be waiting for some more of my table to show up b4 i get too far into this lol

Strongwind took a moment to think, only a few seconds really. " Tracks lead here, good chance they have your things. If try talk, talk from far so can kill some before they reach us. Can protect self, or want to hide in the woods?"

[tomcat]

Strongwind now noticed the purpose of the few rogues to the north of the camp. The men were armed with bow and arrow and were firing at a few shapes that staggered in the mist. The rogues laughed amongst themselves as they would fire an arrow. The Daqeen realized they were targeting undead in the mists that were moving towards them!

Pedowin whickered again, which drew the attention of the other horses. This in turn drew the attention of the Vistani around the fire. The two groups looked at each other from a distance, and then one cried out, "WHO YA BE AND WHATCHA BE WANTIN'?"

Strongwind and Branon could hear the accent in the man's voice. The priest suddenly noticed the short halfling rogue that sat up off of a log. He tapped Strongwind's arm, "That is the one that stood on my chest with his poiniard in my face while his friends rustled my things."

[Callowmoryne]

With a hiss Strongwind mounted and made his bow ready. Am called Strongwind, took some things from this priest. Was hoping to take them back. Can help with the dead if give back. But no doublecross, wont hesitate to kill you all and take what i want. Trade fair?"

[tomcat]

John, I think I am going to hold off on moving this forward until I hear more from Chris and Phil.

[Callowmoryne]

  Thats kool buddy, trying to get them to get their shit together

[tomcat]

"Let's not be sparring words from afar and making threats! Come forth and we'll see about your trade." The Vistani smiled to himself, his thoughts being that he might be even more rich within the next few minutes.

Sitting amongst the Vistani kin, silently warming himself, was a Yoshiman named Sho Soga. The man was from the island nation of Naipai and had found himself far from home after his vessel had been washed over by the sea. He was fortunate to find land off the Quintaal peninsula - south of Dezolan - but soon found himself indebted to those that had fed and sheltered him. His own wealth was far away on his home island of Honakki, at least as much wealth as a monk would gather unto himself, and all else was lost to the sea. The only things he possessed were his personal items - quarterstaff, robes, and jewelry - which he would not offer up as trade or sale due to their uniqueness. So, he was stuck selling his skills to those that would offer food, shelter, medicine, or any other need. The unfortunate thing was that each trail that led to compensation led him further inland and south, instead of north, towards his home.

Sho was none to pleased with his current hosts. They were petty, dirty, and cheaters. He recognized the priest that they had robbed two days hence and felt pity for the man. He had laid there sleeping while the Vistani rooted his items only to awaken to steel at the tip of his nose. There was only so much that Sho Soga was willing to barter for a warm meal, and his honor was not one of them. He only watched as the rogues had pilfered the priest to nothing but his cotton robe. The Yoshiman felt that there would not be another pirating this day... indebted for food or not, he would not aid in another theft.

[Callowmoryne]

  Fuckin Sweet!!

Strongwind made a double click sound, and Pedowin began a slow walk towards the camp. "I say again, am called Strongwind, am Daqueen,  not use threats. Always speak true." He pulled Pedowin to a stop after he was in range of the farthest of the bandits. He loosened the vorpal sword on his back, and the hatchet at his belt. He pulled a red arrow from his quiver, knocked it,  and drew back his bow sighting one of the archers who were firing at the walking dead.  He gave their leader a cold smile. "Am killing now, promise to stop when return property."

Composite bone bow 119

Rolled 1d100 : 88, total 88

Damage

Rolled 4d6+1 : 6, 2, 5, 2 + 1, total 16

2nd arrow 99

Rolled 1d100 : 76, total 76

Damage

Rolled 4d6+1 : 4, 1, 4, 5 + 1, total 15