Resurrectionist Escort
Log Info
- Title: Resurrectionist Escort
- Emitter: Whirlpool
- Characters: Dirk, Slixvah, Zofija, Shilde, Robert
- Place: North of Alexandria
- Time: April 18th, 2022
- Summary:An adventuring party gathers to help escort Ressurectionist Trizia Ickwixy and their companion to a meeting place some few hours north of Alexandria. While the weather is dour, spirits are high. Yet, the former only grows more heavy as the rain pounds down. As do the undead that start to crawl out of the woodworks.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= The Players =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Dirk 20m 4'11" 295 Lb Mountain Dwarf Male A rugged old dwarf, dressed for the outdoors. Robert 47s 6'3" 235 Lb Human Male A middle-aged Cerenzan with a friendly, fatherly vibe. Shilde 4m 4'4" 160 Lb Khazad-Aul Female Tall for a dwarf, long blonde hair in a thick braid, big blue eyes. Slixvah 0s 5'8" 130 Lb Eaglefolk Female A rust red and white Egalrin covered in veils, ribbons, and shawls. Zofija 11m 5'8" 225 Lb Hobgoblin Female A well-dressed Arvek-Nar with a big hammer. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Whirlpool 20m 5'0" Lb Otyugh I am stinky! -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
It is a common pearl of Guild wisdom that it's the simple jobs you have to watch out for. Those are the ones that always end up with oodles of complications. Maybe that's why so many stayed away from this one for a while? That and, of course, you're working for the folks who supposedly have a goal of restoring Animus to his proper place amongst the Gods.
That said, Trizia Ickwixky doesn't look like a lunatic, anymore than any other halfling and neither does the goblin (for a goblin) that she's traveling with. With her blond hair done up in a neat bun and her full plate armor, she looks very much like she's ready for the kind of trouble the Guild can get one into. Your arrival leads to her calling you over and waving cheerfully, just beyond the city gates while her goblin companion, well, he's cleaning his cooking kit at the moment.
The storm clouds hovering overhead do not promise a dry journey, wherever it is you'll be off to, but at least the flow of traffic in and out of the city looks slender-ish today.
Dirk comes lumbering out of the city with his thumderbelcher over his shoulder and a chipper smile on his snowy-bearded face. Spying the halfling waving, he turns his steps in her direction. "Hello!" he booms cheerfully, reaching up to take the pipe from his mouth. "You must be the ones we're meant tae be escortin', then." He glances up at the sky, squinting at the clouds. "Looks like we might get a wee bit of a sprinkle. Hope ye brought rainwear wi' ye!"
Slixvah, a rust red and white feathered Egalrin woman in loud, colorful clothing. And, alas, has yet to fall prey to the simple job stigma. Gotta get that wisdom somehow.
She's tilting her head to the side as she strides up, ribbons trailing behind her. "Howdy howdy!" she chirps, waving in a wide arc.
Someone had to take the job anyways, deceptively simple or not. And either way it was paying, and that always made it a worthwhile endeavor. So a large brown griffon and the Arvek-nar escorting them came from the ways of the stables, the bird-lion clearly more than a bit restless.
"Well, we've got a job to do, so, the sooner we're off and prepared, the less soaked we'll be by the time we get to make camp, if necessary." The cavalier grunts. Though she stops to wave to the egalrin. "Hey Slix, guess you decided to help too. Should go alright, least, hope so."
Shilde doesn't come out of the city. Maybe she'd been there earlier; she does seem to know to meet at this place, at this time, after all. She emerges from the brush, her short-legged rolling gait eventually bringing her to the road to fall in near the gathering party. Rocky, of course, accompanies her, carrying a stick that may have been a small tree.
The ground doesn't exactly shake as he approaches-- he's no Arngrim, after all-- but the artifice-swaddled Cerenzan's advance isn't quiet, either. The bowl helmet is down, its eyeslits dark, and a dark blue cloak flaps behind it as the thing makes its plodding approach. A hip pack bounces over his rump and an odd assortment of magitek and clockwork gegaws stick out of pouches on his wide leather belt.
The whole assembly hisses and whirrs as it clanks and crunches, coming to a halt with a wave.
"So... so sorry," the hollow voice echoes from inside the helmet between pants. "The grandkids would NOT be left before their story was finished... and those oruch tales of valor can-- phew...-- they can meander." Oversized titan fists reach up and pop the helmet back. The dark red skin of the artificer is slick with sweat but he wears an easy smile. "At some point mom and dad will learn to do the voices right and I'll be able to hand off-- sorry, I'm rambling." He grins and waves again, "Hello!"
Trizia Ickwixky smiles sunnily. It is the only sunny thing on the road today.
"I am glad to have all of you here! We're on our way to a meeting with a contact of mine who's going to deliver to me a resource we require! Time to get on our way, oi?" She wiggles her fingers and glances towards her goblin companion, who sighs and proeeds to cast a spell.
A spectral mount suddenly appears! A big old, hairy dog which barks happily once and then starts slobbering the pair of them.
Trizia sighs. "He always does thatw."
And then they're aboard the dog, and ready to go.
Once everyone is set on following, it's time to travel northwards.
Dirk perks up when he spies Shilde. He offers her a wide smile and a jaunty tip of his tricorne. "Hello, Shilde! Nice tae see ye again!" He squats down to give Rocky's ears a ruffle as well. "An' look what -you- found! That's a fine stick, that is!" Rising back to his feet, he looks back to Trizia and company, nodding his head. "Well, seems easy 'nough! What could possibly go wrong? Let's get ye there an' get ye home, an' we'll be back in time fer supper!" The others joining the party are given nods as well. Robert's arrival sends the old ranger's shaggy white brows up towards his hairline. "Well... seems like -you're- well prepared! If some Great Dark God What Come From Beyond All That Space tears a hole in reality, I've got somethin' tae hide behind!" He rumbles with laughter, reaching up a hand to offer a shake. "Dirk Stormgrip! Great tae meet ye!" he booms cheerfully.
Slixvah chuckles. "Heya Muscles! Yeah, just wanted to get outta the city for a bit, ya know?"
Robert's arrival is met with a happy chirp and another wave. "Heya Robby Bobby, good to see ya sugar. Be sure to drink some water! You're lookin' redder than a cherry tomato!"
Her attention shifts to the duo they're escorting, and a soft, cooing laugh comes from her at the antics and the sudden friend appearing. "Daww, they're so cuuute," she hums happily before stepping over towards Zofija. "Heya hun, don't mind if I hitch a ride? I've got a wing blanket to throw over ya as payment!"
She looks to their Khazad friend, and she chirps warmly in the man's native tongue, "Aw, now ya done did it honey, you said it's gonna be easy. Fate works in weird ways, and it's going flip on us. Name's Slix, by the by," she teases. <Khazdul>
Rocky's tail wags furiously at Dirk's greeting and offered tribute while Shilde offers an, "Oi, Dirk." Surely as she usually is, she still offers him a small nod as she turns her attention to the people representing the job. "Good. Time t'Rock on, then." She spells herself a little extra speed for the journey.. then stops short when Rocky suddenly turns around, barking at Robert's approach and arrival. The bark sounds particularly ridiculous with the stick in his mouth, which he forgot about.. in fact, as it starts to fall out, he forgets about the barking to try and save it. He did his work, though, and Shilde is looking at Robert, the sour expression almost seeming a permanent fixure. "Well. Figure this'll be easy 'nough with that contraption scarin' ever'thin' away. 'Course, not liable t'hear 'em one way or another."
"I'm happy in the city, but I'm happy to get paid, so hear I am. It's mostly superstition, but yeah, don't talk about things going well till the job's done, there's plenty room for error, given we haven't even set off yet." Zofi shrugs, clambering onto her mount.
"So, lets be on our way, yeah?"
GAME: Shilde casts Longstrider. Caster Level: 5 DC: 14 GAME: Robert rolls Perception: (5)+7: 12 GAME: Shilde rolls perception: (2)+11: 13 GAME: Slixvah rolls alertness: aliased to perception+2: (7)+9+2: 18 <OOC> Shilde blames the loud artifice. GAME: Zofija rolls perception: (18)+3: 21 GAME: Dirk rolls Perception: (8)+7: 15
So far so good.
Nothing seems to be going wrong, and Trizia seems to know where she's going. The fact that you're travelling on the road makes it easier. Much easier.
Of course, the rain starts up, and soon you're travelling on a road that's made of mud. Schlorp schlorp, and as the rain picks up, it'll only get a little worse.
The artificer stoops to take Dirk's hand, carefully encapsulating the khazad's grip in hinged steel plates decorated with copper inlay and strange blue crystals set into shallow sockets. "Robert Ilife," he grins 'hello' and shakes, conjuring the mild percussive hiss of steam. "Call me Bob, please, or Rob. 'Robby Bobby' if you're like miss Slix and can always spare the time for a rhyme."
The tall man is taller in his armor as he straightens, waving at Shilde and Zofija before pointing a finger at Slixvah as if they've shared a joke. He plucks a waterskin from his hip pack and indulges in a drink before setting the whole massive contraption into motion.
"I've got water and snacks," he announces with a look around. "A spare jacket if anyone gets cold." The cork goes back in the skin and he puts it away. "Muse' grace, all, and good luck today."
The big fellow can't help but sigh and grin a bit at the cool rain. It doesn't seem to bother him that the aetherite crystals pops and spark when the water hits it. Or that the copper wiring spits and smolders... So that must all be normal.
Dirk returns Robert's handshake, his grin broad, honest, and friendly. "Great tae meet ye, Robby!" he booms. "This should be fun outing, I'll warrant! Alex is nice an' all, but I'm a man o' the wood. It'll be nice tae get some nature about me!" He looks over at Slix, again boggling slightly as she addresses him in his native tongue. But he rumbles with laughter, tipping his tricorne to her as well. "An' great tae meet you as well, Slix! Right! Shilde's got the proper notion, let's get this show on the road!" He falls into step behind Trizia and her goblin companion, lumbering along at a brisk, easy pace. He strikes up a marching tune, whistling cheerfully as he goes. Even as the rain starts to patter down, making his heavy boots squelch and schlorp noisily in the mud, there's just no getting this old ranger down. But even as he goes, his keen gaze is flicking hither and yon, on the lookout for any kind of trouble.
Slixvah clambers onto the back of Screech, the griffon, and nestles in behind Zofija, wings splaying out and around the both of them to keep them warm. "It's like a personal jacket!" she enthuses. She does, however, look over to Shilde, tilting her head to the side as she ponders something obtuse... "Oh! Robby Bobby, I always spare the time. I think it's very vital, to rock a rhyme that's right on time. It's tricky though~!" She points back at him, eyes squinting in a playful smile. "Eyyy."
The rain picks up, the bird woman rifles around in the many robes and shawls she has before pulling out a brass rod. She clicks a button, and out pops a large gnomish gyroparasol with a >thwick!<. "Always handy!" she chirps as they trot along, whistling a quiet birdsong along the way.
"Well, least if Robert is here, should have some back up if anything goes south." The Arvek-nar grunts, only to find the egalrin climbing up onto the Griffon. Zofija shrugs and spurs the mount onwards. "I get a cool feather cloak like that halfling lass, least I think it was one, and you get to not walk the rest of the way. Fair enough trade."
The Griffon stops to shake off the rain, something the cavalier was braced for, but it does send even more water spraying out around them with the motion.
If the rain bothers Shilde, she's certainly not going to let it show. Her sour face does soften somewhat; though she doesn't partake of the jovial banter between those who are past aquaintences, there's something about the easy going trade of jokes and words that eases a person's mood. She even stops scolding Rocky when he goes sniffing about Zofija's mount. At this point, the dog might not learn until he gets kicked.
Trizia calls out behind her, "Everyone doing all right? We've got a couple hours before we're there. At least there's no thunder."
THOOM.
"...of course," she says.
"I think we're headed north, miss Zofija," Bob offers with a crooked-arm and point of his armored finger. He obviously knows what she meant by 'going south' and is making an awful joke-- but it's also obvious how much it amuses him. "... eh?" He chuckles and shakes his head, basking in the glory of his dad joke.
"Inspiration's struck," Bob comments at the clap of thunder. He lifts a 'fist and runs it over his thinning hair. "... the Faring Folk always said that; 'inspiration's struck.' Ceinara's gift." He'd missed the flash of lightning and now he's scanning the clouds with his sharp blue eyes. "Sometimes great and good... sometimes great and terrible."
Dirk looks up as that thunder rings out. "Hah! Ye missed!" he booms right back up to the skies. He looks over to Robert with a chortle. "Inspiration? Eh, sounds like some thunder tae me. But I suppose it -could- be inspiration!" He tosses his thunderbelcher, twirling it like a baton, as though he were a drum major in a parade. The old snowbeard is just plain unsinkable.
Slixvah giggles, twirling her gyroparasol as the rain picks up, the cloth between the support spurs flicking in the wind. "The gods wonder if your puns truly have no limit, Robby Bobby," she laughs.
As they catch up to and go astride Trizia, a wing brushes against them. "Thunder, rain, don't matter. Things'll be just ri'," she coos as her one hand holding onto Zofija's jacket makes a few gestures. "I'm good though, sugar. Ready to see this through."
Feels like things will be alright. Like one stepped out on the right side of the bed today.
A glance is afforded to Dirk, her shifting a bit on the seat seeing the weapon twirling. "Fancy moves, Slick. Though, lightning doesn't strike the same place twice, but it sure as hell strikes everywhere."
<OOC> Slixvah says, "Hex: Ward on Trizia. +2 deflection to AC, +2 resistance to saves. Lasts until they get struck or fail a save" <OOC> Slixvah says, "and slix'll know if the ward gets popped"
"Lightning's just a part'o th'circle," Shilde says. "Nature's way've keep y'on yer toes. Clearin' out th'dead fall t'make room for th'new." Seems everyone's got something to stay about Lightning. Few here seem bothered by it. Besides Rocky. He's not rushing off to hide, but he has taken to sticking close to Shilde, ears down, whimpering a little bit everytime the thunder rolls.
GAME: Dirk rolls Survival: (6)+7: 13 GAME: Slixvah rolls survival: (6)+3: 9 GAME: Shilde rolls survival: (11)+13: 24 GAME: Zofija rolls survival: (3)+1: 4
Zofija says, "Glad we're taking this journey on foot then, long as we aren't the most obvious target for the lightning, chances are we'll be okay. "I dunno if it's divine inspiration, guess if the gods make the clouds then it is. Far as I know, it's just like when you're touching a metal structure and getting a shock because you were moving around too much, just on a larger scale. Least, that's what the theories are."
Eventually, Trizia has to pull out her map. The ward placed upon her didn't go unnoticed and she does offer an appreciate smile to Slixvah thereafter, but there's a pause as she holds a parasol up and her goblin associate unfurls the map for her.
She asks everyone to gather around, and some time is spent making heads or tails of the hand-drawn map to the meeting point they're going to. It's further north, at least a few more hours -- a little longer than she thought -- but then going slower because of the mud is a given.
"All right. SO just to that tree line and then follow the path of the red oaks and..."
The help ensures everyone is able to get a move back on relatively swiftly. But ... soaked. Very soaked.
Dirk leans over to peer over the map, idly chomping the bit of his pipe. Of course, there's no chance that he'd be able to light it in this rain, so he hasn't even tried. "Hrm. Aye, that looks right tae me," he says. He taps the map with his pipe stem, tracing the line of their journey. "Might have tae spend the night out here, though. Sloggin' through mud's goin' tae slow us down a good bit." He steps back, puffing up his burly chest with a grin. "Not tae fret! I'll bring us down a deer, an' we can have us some roast venison. So at least we'll nae be missin' out on supper!"
"A march in this isn't so bad," Robert grins as they continue. He's grinning when he talks but has a focused and determined look set to his features when he's listening and walking quietly, generally. "Used to get some real Weather on patrol near the Vast..."
He half-turns and looks back past a sparking pauldron. Eyes roll over each person as he takes a headcount before turning his gaze back towards the outside world.
"Though nothing compared to marching along in the eye of a tornado pulling back from the Blud." He gets a faraway look at the fantastic notion. "... lucky we had that to cover our retreat; I wouldn't be here today, otherwise."
Slixvah nods towards Trizia in a knowing manner, her thumbing her beak and giving a thumbs up.
She does, however, offer her parasol too and leans off somewhat to look at the map as well. To be honest, she couldn't really make heads or tails of it. She shrugs. "Eh, I'll leave it to ya'll. I trust y'know where ya'll are going," she hums, unbothered. Though, slowly, through the rain, she's starting to look a lot less like a vibrant colored enigma and more like a chicken dunked in a bird bath. "Gonna be real, Robby, that kinda sounds... kinda spooky, yeah? Glad y'all got out alright."
You'd think as a druid Shilde might be able to lead folks along a slightlier nicer path. Either that's just not a thing, or Shilde doesn't care to. Anyone who knows her would likely admit it's a tossup either way. She keeps a soothing hand upon Rocky's shoulders, rolling through the mud and the rain. "Maybe save the huntin' fer after the job," she suggests to Dirk. "Might be worth setting up a camp t'dry out after th'work's done."
Zofija knows best how to handle a map, leave it to the people who know how to corroborate their current location with the drawings best. She does an excellent job at leaving the others to it, which leaves her to focus on continuing onwards. "Yeah, you don't retreat easily from them, best not to be put in a situation to retreat to begin with." She nods to Robert. "So, are we going to get there today, or do we set up camp at this point?"
There is no 'nicer path', really. You're just going to have to make do. The good news is that within an hour or two you've made it to the tree line and are now seeing the path of red oaks mentioned.
But things seem ... quiet here. Perhaps its the rain, or maybe the thunder, but it feels a little *too* quiet.
Dirk lumbers along, resuming his cheery whistling as he goes. He glances over to Zof with a chuckle. "We'll ought tae be able to make our meetin'," he says. "But I dinnae think we'll make it back tae Alex afore sundown. Should be able tae put us up a couple tarps once we hit the treeline. Should keep the worst o' the rain off. An' we'll be doin' better once we've got a fire goin'. I'll even break out me whiskey flask so ye can all have a couple nips. That's just what yer wantin' tae keep yer belly warmed, innit?"
Later down the line, as they approach the treeline, the old ranger's good humor begins to fade. His whistling stops. He tucks his pipe safely into his hip satchel and unlimbers his thunderbelcher. Holding it in both hands, his gaze flicking back and forth. "Softly, friends," he says quietly. "There's summat not -right- here. It's too bloody quiet."
"Of all the hats I've worn, being a soldier was my least-favorite," Bob admits, reaching up and lower the domed helmet down into place. "... but it got me where I needed to be and gave me all manner of stories to tell," his voice is distant and hollow, bouncing around inside the helmet. "Still wonder if we'd've lost Dragonier..." he trails off and grunts.
"Eyes up, affirm," the construct nods at Dirk. He selects a small spheroid object of mis-matched halves off of his belt, palming it for now. Plates clank as he begins to roll his shoulders and bends his arms to loosen up.
Slixvah hums quietly to herself as they go along the path of red oaks, the rumbling in the sky a nice backdrop for the pitter patter of rain. "Been a hot minute since I camped, I know a few songs!" she enthuses.
Which, gets dampened at the mention of things being too quiet. From within one of the many nooks and crannies of her (wet) attire, she pulls out a gnarled and twisted looking stick with a small feather attached as a charm. She twirls it in her fingers as she whispers-hums to herself, "I'm a little teapot, short and stout, where is the vandal, where is the lout...~"
Shilde pats Rocky one last time. "Time't'work, boy," she tells him, followed by another word in dwarf. Rocky seems to straighten up a little bit, his misery bottled up as his ears perk.. then he bounds away from her to follow the group off to the side some, eyes fully open and scanning about while his nose gets put to work. Shilde unlimbers her shield, fixing it to her left arm, her right hand dropping to tap out a rhythm on the handle of her cudgel. "Too quiet, too easy."
Zofija grumbles and pulls off her hat for just a moment to shake some of the water out, a fruitless endeavor that only further soaks her hair in the process. "Bad day for a field march." The Arvek-nar sighs, only to snicker at the antics of the Egalrin. "Don't tip over on us Slix, sounds like we'll need you in a moment by the sound of things. Or lack thereof."
"So, is the quiet because your contact here is in hiding, or did someone set up an ambush for them or you? That's the question, and I sure as hell hope fighting isn't the answer."
GAME: Dirk rolls Perception: (15)+7: 22 GAME: Slixvah rolls alertness: aliased to perception+2: (12)+9+2: 23 GAME: Robert rolls Perception: (18)+7: 25 GAME: Zofija rolls perception: (10)+3: 13 GAME: Zofija rolls perception: (6)+3: 9 (Screech) GAME: Shilde rolls perception: (6)+11: 17 GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+7: (7)+7: 14 (Rocky)
It's quiet. Everyone is now being relatively watchful for.. for something. But when you've got no idea what you're watching for, it's hard to know for sure what to look for in this situation. It could be anything. God damn evil trees, for example, with twisty living branches that want ot nab you. Or maybe a zombies powered by horrible fungus? That's a thing, they say. Some even report of farms of horrors taken over that thing, with swarms of zombie cows and chickens controlled by fungus.
And, of course, that isn't evewn getting into the horrors that any locale can contain this far from society (a few hours out of the city is definitely far away, right?!)
These thoughts ae definitely slipping into your head unbidden as you pass through the storm-darkened shadows cast by the forest. The occasional crack of a branch or more is entirely audible. Snap. Pop.
And then, a whisper of cloth, a pallid hand on a tree branch. Around you, red eyes staring at you from above in ragged, decaying and broken tatters. Undead, going by the smell of rot that immediately assails you, but how did they get so close?
<OOC> Robert says, "OK! Shield and then a move action to get into a position opposite Zofi on AC Slater to protect the escort NPC." GAME: Robert casts Shield. Caster Level: 3 DC: 15
"Raise shields," Bob's voice offers a clipped bit of Kulthina as he twists two halves of a mechanical sphere in opposite directions. It glows blue and he sockets it into a pauldron. A semi-transparent hexagonal mesh spreads out from the socket before fading out of view. As the rain continues to fall the droplets splash against the blue glow here and there, creating a dancing cascade of light as he moves forward.
More whirring, more hissing, and a quiet clank as he stomps up in front of and to one side of the precious cargo. Both arms piston out in a quick tests before he raises his oversized titan fists in a boxing stance, shoulders forward. <kulthian>
"We wield artifice against the dark. Never again to forge the abominations of Kulthus." Shadowed blue eyes scan the lurking animate dead. "Fortified by the armor of contempt."
-To Be Continued...-
Combatty
===================== Current Initiative Order - Round 1 =====================
---Init--Name------------AOO-Notes--------------------------------------------
>> 12 Robert 1 <<
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12 Wights
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11 Shilde 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)
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7 Slixvah 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)
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6 Dirk 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)
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4 Zofija 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)
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