Chapter 1: Breakfast in Gryffonese

[Eledriar Glaeson's finesse attack roll of 1 + 5 does not beat Springwarden Sord Wheelder's AC of 14... but it doesn't have to?]

Sord is mid-conversation with his sword, and only at the last second dives out of the way of another near-fatal bladestrike from the half-elven songstress. "Truly an embarassing battle performance," the frazzled ranger thinks to himself, "and one that might cost me Jeremy..."

In the same split-second of thought, Sord's sword flashes brilliantly, turning from a brilliant silver to a brownish color not unlike that which flowed out his mouth and buttocks. The longsword lifts itself from his vomit-stained hands, floats briefly in front of Sord, and drops its pommel onto the top of his head with extreme violence and speed. A sickening crack of bone can be heard, as Sord is disabled and knocked unconscious, leading the party to believe some measure of permanent brain damage has occurred.

The sword, still brown and ornate-looking since its transformation, remains afloat and begins to move handle-first toward Eledriar. With another flash of light, the "turd-colored" sword transforms again into a steel rapier--one that is free of shitstain and tarnish--and lays itself at her feet.

[Sord is out of combat, and possibly out of the waking world. For our purposes, only Daggard remains, and is attempting to flee this encounter. Ezythyr is up to "fantasy" bat. -DM]

Ezythyr watches carefully as the man runs. He smirks slightly and holds up a finger as if silencing someone. Then he lifts his staff and strikes his axe with it, send out a shower of sparks. But three of the sparks persist, enlarging and orbiting the staff. The dwarf aims them at the fleeing figure and theyou zoom off, striking him forcefully in the back.

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Magic Missile on Daggard. Automatically hit. 3 missiles, each do 1d4+1 force damage.

The member 'Ezythyr Coalthane' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'd4' : 1, 2, 4

So 10 damage, total.

[Springwarden Daggard Stabbyns takes 10 force damage from Ezythyr's Magic Missiles.]

The force of the arcane blows on his back knocks an aggressively-mobile Daggard off his feet, knocking the wind out of his lungs and sending him sliding to the ground face first. Barely able to return to his feet, he weakly props himself up with his arms and looks toward the party of adventurers that clearly have his number. He speaks plainly:

"Guys, gal, whoever's out there, gimme a chance, yeah? Yes, we killed some rangers while they were sleeping, took their gear, and have been running sweet cons in the area, but obviously that's gonna stop. You let me go, and we should be golden, you'll never see me again, I won't tell anyone what happened... Please?"

The voice in the bush responds, "Sorry, pal, no survivors, that's the rule. KILL HIM. Or I could do it. Really doesn't matter, as long as that man and these other ones are erased."

Another voice rings out behind you, without any real warning. "So, did y'all figure out who's gonna do this work for OHWHATINTHENAMEOFSWEETDARLA'SBRAIDS!!!"

Turning around, you see that the House of Angry Pancakes' entrance door had popped open slightly, and the half-orc male from the bar had poked his head to view the events outside. Sure enough, he saw an unconscious solied man, an unconscious bowman, a headless guy, and out in the distance a man on the ground pleading for mercy.

"Are you all serious with this, again? Couldn't even go two months without wholesale slaughter, outside my humble establishment??? Oh, I know who's to blame... SKEEETER!!! Get your scaly ass in here, NOW!"

From the bushes, a voice enters a low mutter, and from the brush emerges the kobold male server, Skeeter. He sheathes his silver dagger, and begrudgingly walks back towards the House of Angry Pancakes, and in his muttering you hear curses and profanities across multiple dialects.

The half-orc appears frustrated, but speaks again. "Listen, we all have a broad idea of how this plays out. Just try and tidy this area up a bit, help me out? Folks don't wanna see viscerae and carnage about, before sitting for a stack of tasty cakes. Don't care how or why, or whatever, I don't need to know, just finish up this nasty business and meet me inside." As Skeeter crosses the doorway, you hear the half-orc yelling at him, and the door slams behind.

[You are officially out of combat, but you have three survivors, and two of them are unconscious. Resolve the open activities and return to the House of Angry Pancakes, then we can finally move on to Chapter 2! - DM]

Ezythyr immediately moves to the headless corpse, kneels down and starts stripping off its equipment.

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OOC: I'm taking his shit. Axe included.

On search of the body of Axel, you find 30 gold pieces that are stained with blood, and a roll of parchment tied off with a small piece of twine. There is also a half-eaten apple, and a vial of red shiny liquid. The glass vial is also stained with blood. All things considered, it appears as though Axel was not the original owner of any of these items; even his green leather armor had small punctures and slashes across the back, that looked to have been hurriedly repaired with stitching and threads.

Daggard sees you turning over the corpse, and calls out, "Hey, hey, yeah, I get it, take everything they've got, I've a few gems and gold that I can give you too. It's all yours, then I'll leave. For sure."

[Out of combat, I don't believe there is any action order, so anyone can act/speak. Help yerselves. But there are three non-dead humans to be dealt with. -DM]

Ezythyr pockets the items, making note to read the scroll when he gets a chance. He folds the leather armor to be easily carried and tucks the axe into his belt. Once the body is stripped, he motions to the head and that ghostly gauntlet appears once more and picks it up, dropping it on the body. As an afterthought, he places the apple on its chest. He then bows his head and begins to speak to the body.

"Me clan thanks ye for the service ye shall provide. Ye were a warrior in life and in death ye shall fight again. The spirits of me clan will give ye purpose, and I shall give ye direction. Rest in the halls of Anubis, journey to the plains of Nephthys, and beware the pull of Set." With a final nod to the body, he pulls out a fist-sized crystal vial. He tips it above the corpse and a purple, viscous jelly slithers out and drops on top of the severed head, quickly spreading and engulfing it. "Eat well, me love."

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OOC: Okay, that's going to take me a few minutes at least, so I'll jump back in once you guys post some stuff, and when it makes sense.

Thokk slowly got up off of Archie. He nudged his boot into the ranger's side. The man didn't move. Thokk slowly bent down and rummaged through the ranger's things, the tax for surviving the fight, Thokk thought to ease his conscience

Searching the ranger's pockets, you find a small parchment with official-looking script stating the following:

"Good for one backrub, night favor, or special surprise. Redeemable at the Den of Lost Angels in Luskan, or by a traveling Angel. Eternally transferable."

One would otherwise feel pretty lucky with such a coupon... except its former owners appear to have consistently found misfortune. Based on context clues, one might conclude that the voucher's original recipient was beset upon by thieves in his sleep and murdered, and one of said thieves now lay unconscious before Thokk.

Archie's traveling sack contained naught but several apples and ten gold pieces. Apart from that, his shortbow and quiver of arrows were still in a fair condition, and would likely withstand future combat better than Archie did. His green leathers also appear functional as well.

[Thokk, you got yourself a Lost Angels coupon, a sack full of five apples and ten gold pieces, and Archie's shortbow and quiver of arrows. And leather armor in a cool shade of green. If you want these things. Anyone else? Perhaps someone that might be inheriting a magical weapon or some such? -DM]

Eledriar, having been significantly thrown off by the events that had led to the man before her being knocked unconscious, takes a second of stunned silence before she can react to the sound of the half-orc's yells. "Uh, yeah, of course," she murmurs, not quite taking in the words that she hears, and takes a knee to carefully examine the sword lying at her feet. She uses her rapier, still in her hand, to gently nudge it, and when it doesn't react, she sheathes her rapier and gingerly picks up the sword with a gloved hand.

OOC: does the sword react at all? if not, I'd like to also search Sord, assuming he is still unconscious, but I can write that after your reply

While his ooze familiar, Glissen, cleaned the flesh off of Axel's bones, Ezythyr started toward Daggard. "Strip." He commands him. "And gimme yer weapons."

"Execution? Little grim for ye. I approve."

Ezythyr waved away the comment only he could hear. "Yer gold too."

Daggard silently complies with Ezythyr's commands, wiggling on the ground to take off his leathers, laying his dagger and holster at his feet. He empties his pockets.

"Two hundred gold, five rubies, and this goofy looking pair of stone faces," Daggard says, "it's all I've got from when we murdered those dumb Enclave boys in their sleep. Karma's a real bitch, innit?"

All lain out before him, Daggard briefly looked pleased with himself, but quickly realized that he was being relieved of his ill-gotten goods, and sobered up quickly again. He rises from the grass, and starts backing away from Ezythyr.

"We're good, dwarf? I can go? Looks like your... erm... friend... can eat Archie and Sord too. Axel must be tasty, the way he's dissolvin'..."

[Ezythyr stands to obtain a set of green leather armor, a basic dagger with sheath, two hundred gold, five rubies, and two stones with faces on them. Daggard's fate is yours to decide. As for Eledriar... - DM]

Eledriar, taking up the steel rapier in your gloved hand diminishes the vibrations the blade begins to make. You hear a sound, very low but clear, in the recesses of your mind, that slowly rises in volume and clarity. Looking around, the others appear to be at their work of collecting gear from the robbers and do not see the blade shaking. They also cannot hear the sound in your head, as it evolves into what sounds like a hum, then a song, then a clear voice:

"HMMMMMMMMMM... LAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA... MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"

It's jarring and loud enough that you expect the others to hear it, so you look up from the weapon at your party. But they continue their work, unaware of the yelling and sing-song. It's all in your head.

"Oooooh, mama, thank Corellon himself! A chance at fame anew! That nasty man took me from someone that was on the cusp of greatness! I was not about to share my gift with that left-footed oaf!"

The voice continues as you turn the blade to catch the light. It shines brilliantly.

"Yes, yes, I'm glorious, I know. Listen, I think you know you're the only one that can hear me. We're going to be great, that Icingdeath is a toothpick compared to me! But to unlock the heights of my murderous power, you're going to have to show your hot strut in combat. If you continue to move like I saw you move today, we're on track! But if you stumble and fail too much, I'm out!"

So the blade is enchanted, you think to yourself, conditionally so.

"That's right, prove yourself to me, Jeremy the Dancing Blade, and I'll dance again! Lead the way, partner! If you aren't ready for this challenge, though, put me down and trot away."

[Eledriar has found herself a Dancing Blade, but not quite as lethal as the legends would indicate. This particular Dancing Blade, Jeremy, needs his wielder to complete five fantastic attacks against foes with skill, panache, and finesse, before he evolves and unlocks his true capabilities (which basically means that he, on utterance of his command word, can fly 30 feet towards any enemy and attack up to three times at range using your attack roll and ability score modifier, before returning to your hand). I'll add a weapon sheet somewhere for reference (and others for any other enchanted goods the party finds). - DM]

Turning over Sord's pockets, Eledriar, you find naught but lint and soiling, from his bout with diarrhea and emesis. It appears as though his blade was the only thing that he kept on his person.

"This goofus," the voice of Jeremy states in your mind's ear, "thought that if he shed all but his armor and boots, he would be lighter and spritely and his battle feats would curry my favor. He even, hmmm, sought to become more aerodynamic, using me to remove body hair from places no magic weapon should ever pierce. Didn't really help him, did it? Personally, if you've got talent, I think it doesn't matter what you wear and what you carry."

[Sord had a sword, and that's about it. You can take the stool and vomit-stained leather armor and boots, if you want. Do you, Eledriar, tell the party about your find? -DM]

OOC: What are the local laws concerning murder? Would I have to roll for that?

Also, what's the value of the rubies?

And what's the deal with the stone faces?

OOC: No, I want to know the law because they committed murder. As a Lawful character, I may decide to enact the punishment myself, after consulting the party, of course.

Can I use my stonecunning trait to identify the value of the gems?

And one Arcana check: +5 (Unless I can use stonecunning for this as well?)

The member 'Ezythyr Coalthane' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'd20' : 9

Turning Jeremy over in her hands, perplexed, Eledriar calls out to the group, "Hey, uh... this sword is pretty cool. Seems a little weird, though. Like maybe it might be enchanted or something." With this, she straps it to her belt and walks towards Ezythyr and Daggard in a vaguely nonchalant-looking way (to the best of her abilities). Not lying, just... no point in telling them everything in case it turns out I'm just hearing voices. "Need any help over here?"

OOC: I'm fine with just the sword in that case...

Thokk pockets everything, giving the coupon a second look before placing it in a separate pocket. He gives a furtive glance around to make sure no one saw the contents and then made his way to the door. "Maybe we can finally get to some of those flapjacks." A smile grows around his pronounced bottom tusks

[I've been apeing a lot from Skyrim, but even if the rangers are actually robbers that murdered rangers, without witnesses Daggard, Archie, and Sord are likely looking at some short stint in the Baldur's Gate Minimum Security Prison for theft and impersonating Enclave rangers on official business. Turning them in, it's what a Lawful would do.

I will provisionally say that the ruby to gold exchange rate in this part of the world currently is maybe 50 to 1. But...

With an Arcana check of 9 + 5 though... - DM]

Channeling and reaching out to the immediate area, you notice items aglow, indicating magical properties:

Eledriar is holding a steel rapier with a faint blue glow, likened to an arcane weapon that may have once been quite powerful.

One of the rubies is not like the others, and resonates against your magical energies with a bright red light and unusual warmth. Must be a variant on one of those Gems of Brightness, you think to yourself.

As for the stone faces, they glow with a blue and green light, respectively. Under other circumstances, this would be a fair pair of Sending Stones, but because they glow in different hues you ascertain that this is not a pair of stones, but rather two each of two separate sets. Hard to know if their counterparts are still out there.

[So, to clarify, Ezythyr has one Gem of Brightness, four rubies, and two non-paired Sending Stones. And I didn't mention earlier, but Axel's handaxe was indeed just a handaxe. - DM]

Ezythyr turns at the sound of Eledriar's voice. He gives her a warm smile. "Nay, lass." He slides the handaxe out of his belt, turns it around, and strikes at Daggard with the blunt end.

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+5 to hit. Non-Lethal damage to knock him out.

The member 'Ezythyr Coalthane' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'd20' : 9