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#833078 Tue 22/12/15 14:25 UTC
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GM

There was dappled shadow in the undergrowth where Bearkiller crouched, only three-feet tall and born in the wild, he blended in like an animal. The summer sun was rising briskly as it always did at that time of year and the valley was bathed in warmth, though the day was barely an hour old.

The halfling pushed the branches of a mulberry bush aside. The fruit was blackened by frost from the night attack, another sign of the dragon's presence at the Titan's Elbow.

A view over the River Scintilla was revealed, where it flowed through the karst archway under the mountain.

It was dark under the archway with a semicircle of white daylight on the far side. The silhouetted ceiling bristled with thousands of stalagtites.

Bearkiller pointed, though what he pointed out was obvious. About ten or so feet up the inside wall of archway, a cleft seemed to bleed. It was thick, orange coagulant, streaked with black. It leaked down the wall, staining it, and pooled amongst the boulders underneath where it trickled indutibly into the river. The pools were foul, brimmed with an orangy-brown slush, the black fluid separating out around the edges. It was possibly some leachate, brought out of the rocks by the dragon's orange blood.

"It come from entrance to mine. We follow blood through mine, lead us straight to dragon's blind side." Bearkiller said, glancing over his shoulder.

You were gathered behind him. Equipped and ready.

The halfling had been right, advising against attempting this route by night. The rocks underneath the concealed mine entrance looked slippery and falling into one of the pools could not be beneficial to ones health.

There were certainly legends of heroes bathing in dragon's blood while some god cast a spell of invincibility on them. There were plenty more of heroes being bathed in the stuff and dying horribly.

Fresh from the wound, the white wyrm's blood had been hot enough to scald a man to death. Cooled and congealed, it probably had more poisonous qualities.

You had reached a fork in your journey. It was this way, or scale the peak. There Bearkiller described was a gaping pothole, opening into a large cavern where the dragon laired. He said they'd need rope to climb down into the cavern and wasn't enamoured with the idea, considering the dragon would probably be sat at the bottom with its jaws wide open.

Last night the party agreed that Bearkiller's secret way seemed like the better idea. Did it still?

nem #833093 Tue 22/12/15 17:30 UTC
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<Weston>

He still felt that the best plan involved him going in from the top to distract the dragon from the 'sneak' attack from behind. He again voiced that opinion. "If it is going to focus on me, better it is just me than all of you as well." It made sense to him.


MikeD
nem #833106 Tue 22/12/15 19:52 UTC
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Sergeant Almador

Last night he'd felt energised, tired, yes, but in a good way, and with his companion's encouragement, was finally reassured that he'd made a good account of himself.

When he woke up, however, he found he could barely move. He'd never ever felt so stiff, every fibre aching as if he'd aged 10 years.

Crouching in the undergrowth behind the halfling was exquisite torture, so he was keen to be either standing up straight and moving, or lying down.

The Sergeant scalded himself. The cleric, Nestaron was even now being tormented by the dragon, likely mutilated if it carried out its threats from last night. And here he was, complaining about achy legs. What an old cretin!

He listened to Weston's suggestion and shook his head angrily.

"I tell you now, Weston, I shall not agree to that plan! For that is not a plan, it is suicide for you! And how would we co-ordinate our attack? Us being underground, you being above?

"No, if there's one thing I've learned from a career drilling guards, it's co-ordination. As I see it, we all go one way or the other."

nem #833130 Tue 22/12/15 23:55 UTC
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D

"While I am usually one for solo escapades. Fighting an ancient dragon isn't one of those times. Especially when it's very blood is pulling some foul ancient alchemy from the very ground. I agree with the good sergeant. We work together where we can support each other. Note I am not advocating just jumping in where the creature can use its frozen breath upon all of easily. But, a corrdinated attack to destroy this ancient foe for once and all."

To him sneaky was always best and he didn't need to say that to reiterate it.

nem #833138 Wed 23/12/15 00:35 UTC
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Seyja


Stretching to loosen her muscles, Seyja listened to the others talk as her eyes moved from the crevice imbued with the ancient wyrm's evil essence to the peak far above.

Her instinct was not to sneak about... she was one to attack straight ahead, to charge her enemy head on, but to descend from the peak direct into the dragon's lair seemed, at best, foolish.

"I say we should stay together unless you can guarantee us, Weston, that our split attack could be timed perfectly."

She scowled at the blood stained crevice and shook her head.

"I hate the idea of going there," she said, pointing her greataxe at the black and gold stained passageway."

"But that is the way I will go."

nem #833177 Wed 23/12/15 10:37 UTC
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Tindarien

"We have to give ourselves the best chance we can. Going this way.. and together.. seems to offer that."

He may die today. He would prefer it otherwise but he is still committed to doing everything he can to save Nestaron and to cure the blight that affects this area.

nem #833192 Wed 23/12/15 16:18 UTC
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<Weston>

"The problem is that, since the dragon seems to be able to sense the ring, so it will know where I am ...", he paused as a thought occurred to him. "Is there some way to 'mask' the ring?"


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nem #833213 Wed 23/12/15 17:58 UTC
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Zoltan

He too does not like the idea of climbing down a rope into a cave where a dragon waits for them. While charging straight ahead has it's dangers as well, perhaps there is a way to be stealthy and still approach from a safer direction?

nem #833222 Wed 23/12/15 19:13 UTC
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D

"Masking or hiding it in some way. Do we have a functional idea at what kind of a range he can sense it? Line of sight maybe?"

nem #833229 Wed 23/12/15 19:25 UTC
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Zoltan

"You know, Weston", he says. "There might be a way to do what you are suggesting without the risks everyone is worried about.

He looks at the halfling. "Presuming the pothole you mention is too small for the dragon to fit into?"

He looks back to Weston. "In any case, you could tie the Ring to a rope and dangle it at the top of the hole to attract the dragon's attention. As long as the hole is too small for it to fit into and reach the ring, that might distract it while we all try to sneak in thru the river entrance. You could retrieve the ring after we deal with the dragon." He purposefully uses the word after rather than if.

nem #833230 Wed 23/12/15 19:27 UTC
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<Weston>

"I have no idea what sort of range ... except that 'it' seemed to know that it was with us when 'it' confronted us. So it would seem =some= distance."


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nem #833238 Wed 23/12/15 21:38 UTC
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Bearkiller

The halfling wasn't as inconvenienced as the tall folk, hiding in the bushes, but he was eager to confront the Beast and he sensed He Who Sicks Balls was too.

Still, Bearkiller considered Zoltan's suggestion.

"Pothole is dragon's way in and out of lair. Big hole, long drop." He said.

The ring was perplexing. He didn't understand what it was, but then neither did anyone else, except perhaps the dragon. Maybe that was instructive? If they didn't know how acutely the dragon could sense the Aurenaur, it was futile thinking of counter-measures.

Regardless, they could assume the dragon knew the party was coming and would be taking steps to outwit its adversary, just as the party were.

The dragon wouldn't be expecting a fire bomb, it wouldn't be expecting Bearkiller, more importantly, it wouldn't expect them to have found the secret entrance if the dragon itself even knew about it.

"We could leave ring in cave from time beyond time. But if ring so important, maybe wiser if bowman keep it close?" The halfing queried, then he looked at Jex and his eyes went wide.

"Stop that!! Sorry, Jexric Bodejacker. My dire wolf like you, lick your face. Bad behaviour around new friends!"

Last edited by nemarsde; Wed 23/12/15 21:44 UTC.
nem #833359 Thu 24/12/15 19:58 UTC
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Jex

"Hey!"

Ar first he was startled when the wolf approached but then he smiled at the animal and started to hum a tune to it's face. The notes that danced through the air were stretched out to sound like howls, not unlike the kind one would hear from any canine. If music could calm the savage beast....

Ooooooh my puppy
Ooooooh my friend.
Weeeeee travel together
Toooooo the bitter end.


He let the wolf smell the back of his hand, offering it as a sign of friendship.
The bard was ready to move on but wished that he had more in his arsenal than a tune and his blade. It would take a small army to take down the legendary beast.


nem #833499 Sat 26/12/15 12:04 UTC
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Tindarien

He raises one eyebrow as he watches Jex sing a strange little song and act out a mime on his own. Strange.. but maybe he is trying to placate the halfling in his belief in the invisible direwolf that probably exists only in his imagination.

He smothers a smile. No harm in it certainly.

nem #833524 Sat 26/12/15 18:34 UTC
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GM

So uncanny a performer was Jex, that an audience might be convinced the bard really was being slavered on by a dire wolf. But as yet, He Who Sicks Balls was still very much an invisible, intangible dire wolf. Was it a spirit totem? Or a metaphor? Or merely a work of imagination? Bearkiller believed regardless, and was greatly amused by Jex's play.

Talking to the air, he told the dire wolf to behave himself then prepared to lead the party onwards. Every moment wasted was another moment of captivity for Nestaron.

Your goal was clear: Slay the dragon.

Slaying the dragon would stop it poisoning of the River Scintilla with its blood, and whatever was leaching from the rocks. It would allow you to return the haunted helm of Gorulon Gorehound and lift the curse. Finally, you could then rescue Nestaron.

You knew the Beast wanted Weston's ring, the Aurenaur, and could perhaps sense it. Apart from hiding it or throwing it in the river, there wasn't much else you could do. Send Weston back to town with it? Would that tip the scales in your favour or the dragon's?

Last night the dragon said the ring was crafted by elven necromancers from the tip of the White's horn after its defeat by the Wizard King. If this was true, it was safe to say that the ring should be kept safe.

Sergeant Almador was a father and grandfather. He'd become fond of Weston, who resembled the kind of man he wished his own eldest son had grown into. Someone he understood. Almador wasn't going to let Weston dangle himself in front of the monster as a distraction, and sounded more resolute on that point than he had at any time since they'd set out on the quest.

(If it was any consolation, the dragon would probably hear or smell you coming anyway. It was a dragon after all.)

Thus it seemed they would all be taking the secret passage through the abandoned mine.

First they had to get there.

***

The stench. It was as shocking and unexpected as it was repulsive. The rocks between the mine's entrance and the river created pools for congealed orange dragon's blood, surrounded by bands of black leachate. It stank like the bilge of a fishing boat, bad enough to make you wretch.

Immediately underneath the entrance, a lumpy white scum had formed over the effluent, that seemed to break up and remerge of its own volition. Who knew what oozes might grow in such a toxic stew?

You would have to navigate these slippery rocks, then climb about ten feet up an overhang on the inside of the karst. Technically, it was the most difficult obstacle you'd encountered on the journey so far, but the pay-off would potentially be blind-siding the dragon.

[This is a hazard encounter, the same as a dungeon trap or an avalanche. Each player describes what resources their character uses to tackle the obstacle. This might be equipment or it might be an inner resource, but either way it should be linked with one of the PC's Backgrounds and one of their main attributes. This one's unrestricted, so it could use Str, Dex, Con, Int, Wis, or Cha. It's up to the player to convince and most importantly entertain, the rest of the group. Unlike previous skill checks which fail forwards, failing this skill check will result in an immediate consequence, the hazard makes an 'attack'. Damage and special effects can result.]

nem #833526 Sat 26/12/15 19:17 UTC
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Seyja Banic


Using her greataxe almost like a walking staff, the barbarian woman took a position up front, close behind the Halfling, and made her way carefully through the slippery passageway which was revealed once they'd made their way through the crevice entranceway. She was an agile woman, tough and very strong, and her experience as a young woman raised in the mountains (Mountain Woman +4) helped her keep her balance and avoid stumbling and falling in the dangerous passageway.

The stench, though, was distracting, almost nauseating in its intensity, but she did her best to ignore its effect, push it aside and away, so that it would not interfere with her dual mission.

She was determined to kill the dragon and save the cleric, Nestaron.

[OOC: Who is carrying the fire bomb? Seyja or Weston?]

nem #833527 Sat 26/12/15 19:47 UTC
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[[ doesn't matter to me. Do you have a preference Ex? ]]


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nem #833528 Sat 26/12/15 20:08 UTC
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D

He moved with sure footed grace. As the ascent became more vertical he shifted to using his hands and feet.

That was more difficult than he had imagined. Stick his hands on slippery disgusting rocks was disconcerting while trying to retch.

As much as he preferred to go in and out by any means other than a door. He was at home climbing as a professional theif. (Theif +5)

When it came time for the last dash of this hazardous climb. He used his skill, grace, and innate ability to string up secured lines so that the the less skilled companions had something to assist them.

nem #833536 Sat 26/12/15 22:20 UTC
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[OOC: No preference on my end, Mike. You want to leave it up to our illustrious GM?]

nem #833548 Sun 27/12/15 00:47 UTC
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[[ I am ok with Weston having it ... but he would have let Seyja carry it if she thought it was better with her <g> ]]

<Weston>

He had done a bit of climbing when he was caravaning days ... getting to higher ground to scout out the way ahead, that sort of thing. But nothing quite this challenging. Still, he knew how to go about it ... try to maintain 3 points of contact, only moving one hand or foot at a time, make sure of your grip or your foot hold before going for the next one.

It was slow going. But most of that slowness was because the consequences of falling into that ... stuff worried him more than any possible injury from the fall.


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nem #833559 Sun 27/12/15 10:51 UTC
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Tindarien

He studies the way ahead watching how the others tackle it, learning from their progress. He has many skills that help him in this situation, his natural dexterity and elven grace, his lightness of foot, his intelligence in picking a good route but mainly he has done it before. His recent background is as a relic hunter, gaining knowledge of possible out of the way places, dungeons, caves, crypts and then exploring them to find those treasures. Access is always difficult. If it was easy then others would have been there ahead of him.

This time though his motivation is stronger too. His friend Nestaron is ahead somewhere, hopefully alive still, and that is a treasure definitely worth finding!

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Jex

The bard never took obstacles lightly but to those who observed him the tasks looked effortless. That was a talent all it's own, to make the difficult look easy. Such was the role that the Drakkenhall Court Jester played as he navigated the putrid and slippery passageway. To the others it must have looked like he was having fun, leaping from stone to stone, twirling with dancelike movements across the noxious slime that flowed below.

What others didn't realize was that each time he put a foot down on stone his toes tested the landing for slipperiness and that he had several contingent moves to make if, indeed the footing was wrong. To them these lifesaving adjustments would look as if they were planned steps in an elaborately choreographed ballet. With each grasp into a potential handhold his fingers tested the strength of the wall to hold his weight but he depended on the holds he had succeeded in grasping to be his fallback options.

He moved through the caverns gracefully. This is where a lifetime of practicing his agility would pay off.

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[Ghosted for Zeim]

Zoltan

He'd go last, or last but one (if the last person wanted to be pulled up by rope).

Footing under the arch was treacherous and the gut-wrenching stink put him in a dark mood. He kept his mouth shut and sipped in breath only when needed.

After fixing a route with his eyes, he watched the others ascend. He didn't doubt his climbing skill, honed from tracking many a monster through the wilds on behalf of the Order of Averness. Wearing plate armour, he decided he would attack the short but difficult climb with brute strength. As little hanging about as possible. Literally.

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Sergeant Almador

Well, that was it then! They were stymied. They weren't giant spiders, there was no way to reach the entrance to the mine.

Not for the first time, he inwardly questioned the sanity of the halfling they were following. The little man obviously meant well though, and had led them to safety last night.

Sergeant Almador wasn't giving up though. He'd given his word to Tindarien. He said he would not leave any of the party behind, and Nestaron was still out there.

Almador was about to diplomatically thank Bearkiller and ask how long it would take them to reach the other entrance on the summit, when he noticed the rest of the party preparing to... climb?

As always, these intrepid heroes were about to redefine the man-at-arms' notion of what was and was not possible. He could only really watch.

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Bearkiller

He would go first, then He Who Sicks Balls. The mohawked halfling was especially undeterred since he'd made the short climb once already, the day before when he'd scouted it out.

Bearkiller simply assumed the rest of the party could and would follow.

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