[User]
 The great bell of Westgate tolls. One for a non-emergency meeting, two for a fire, three for an invasion, four for everyone, run, get out, for the sake of everything you hold dear. But one. One's not so rare. What is rare is the idea that the six most monstrously powerful warriors in the entirety of Westgate, perhaps the whole Iron Empire...

"Alleon! Itaka! Cari! Vorit! Lutin! Kurnos!"

...Should all be called to meet before the Westgate council at once. It is common for armies to try to pass through the bridge at Westgate, to attack the capital city of Eisenhafen, only a few days' march east. But what threat might be so great as to require all six of the Empire's greatest weapons? Even the messenger, who walks through the dark streets past rows of worn-down wooden houses to call these names, cannot possibly know.

Ask not for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

[User]
 Kurnos rolls to his feet. Eyes darting left and right in the dim light as his sharp ears hear the shouts from within the town halls. Claws extending he crawls out of his burrow in the grass near the city gates and stretches before loping towards the city gate. A faint snarl at the guards he channels his fury, leaping upwards with a massive bound as he soars over the walls...

 Spoiler: Jump

in soaring dragon stance Jump  (1d20+43)[ 47 ]  - and use 50ft fly to cover the rest of the distance to clear the wall.

Landing with a great thud he lopes towards the council building.  "You have called for Kurnos?

[User]
 Lutin sighs as he looks up slowly from his book to peer out the window. With a creak the tome is closed and set down on a nearby table. Carefully extracting a fine set of green robes from a nearby pack, he changes clothing and begins moving toward the council at a brisk pace.

Upon arrival he looks upon the council chambers:
   "Who dares summon me?"

[User]
 Itaka sighs, walks out of his home, and walks at a pleasurable pace towards the council(about 20 feet in six seconds.) Just out of sight of those within, he casts Extended Polymorph: Avoral and Invisibility, both from his wizardry, then flies the rest of the way there at maximum speed. He dimension steps into the council at the ceiling. He shows no sign of his presence, except to cast Ventriloquism to make his voice appear to be from where he is currently. He then flies to the other side of the room.

If he knows the council keeps up see invis, he casts dispel magic as well if the members of the council there. The rest of the six could not have made it; his house is literally 10 feet from the gate.

[User] Loping along shrouded in his totemic bonds and sniffing the air cautiously as he moved carefully he nodded to the mage that strode purposefully forth.  "You have been called I see. All six of us now... The threat must be grave indeed.

[User]
 Having been in deep meditation to further hone his skills, just as he does every night, Alloeon is rather irritated at the late night summons.  But upon hearing the other names being called his irritation turns to curiosity,  They seem to be preparing for the end of the world if they are summoning all of us at once  he mutters while quickly arming himself.

Satisfied that everything on his person is in its right place, he heads out to the Westgate ready at a moments notice to unleash his might upon any that would attack him.

[User] "I have also arrived, did you not think to ask that of me? You are aware of my proximity to this place, and how I meet, if I remember correctly. How could you forget?"  Itaka flies over his head.

[User]
 Lutin stands up straight, allowing his emerald robe and cloak to hang properly over his shoulders.
  "Fret not over the children's tricks of your supposed peers. Focus instead on the terms of the engagement proper. To wit: Why have we ALL been summoned here?"


[User]
 Maybe it had started as a joke, but in the time since she'd brought it up at the mall, the idea of a cooking contest had been solidifying in Kyoko's head. Organising a time and getting everyone together had been tricky, but she was finally there, with a fully stocked kitchen and everyone ready to take part. She'd had a lot more experience with Callum's cooking in the weeks leading up, and every meal he cooked seemed to be a new demonstration of his skills. It was a little worrying, but he was seriously outnumbered. Callum could beat a whole team of the girls, could he? It was only for fun, but it'd sure be embarrassing if they lost.

 "Alright, are we ready?"  Kyoko called to make sure she had the attention of the gathered group.  "Okay, we've got sixty minutes to prepare our meals, Callum against us girls. The food will be taste tested at the end, and all dishes must include the theme ingredient. I got Soga to choose it, so there can't be any bias!"

She looked over to him, cuing him to announce the ingredient. Of course, Kyoko had been checking the deliveries to the dorm this past week, so she was certain she knew what it was going to be...

[User]
 Soga had prepared for this moment. He had also noticed Kyoko sneaking around the dorm's shopping list. He had decided, then, to throw a curveball at her.

Reaching into his cargo pockets, he pulled out two bags of tiny white crystals.

 "Seasalt! The theme ingredient is seasalt!"

 It wasn't quite a rare material, but it would be fun to watch people try to make such an insignificant seasoning central to the recipe...


[User]
 O dia da grande batalha chegou.

A poucas milhas de distância, uma mancha esverdeada cobre os campos que circudam a fortaleza.

 -A horda bate a nossa porta.

-Sim. Pobres criaturas. Tão facilmente controladas que fariam um bem ao planeta se deixassem de existir.

- He! Você tem a oportunidade de ajudá-los nesse sentido. Alias, você tem o dever de ajuda-los a desaparecerem desse mundo e faze-los voltar para os confins do universo.

-Você acha? Mas eles são apenas orcs, não deveriam simplesmente sucumbir a foça de nosso império? Não, eles jamais conseguiriam entender o amplitude do império.

- By the Emperor!

-By the Emperor.

Dizendo isso, o Grande General deixa a sacada da fortaleza. Já se passaram dez anos desde que pós os pés neste planeta imundo. Dia apos dia, a guerra contra a horda proseguiu, e nada alem de sangue, destrossos, capsulas vazias caiu neste chão.

-O grande imperador ordena que eu limpe essas terras desta praga. Vou faze-lo nem que para isso, tenha que destruir todos eles, eu mesmo.

Os sons dar armas orcs atingindo o chão faz as paredes tremerem. Estas bestas só entendem o sentido da luta e não vão desistir enquanto não pilharem todos os planetas do universo.

O general passa os portões da fortaleza. Ele e seus esqudrão, não mais que quinze, enfrentarão milhares de orcs. Os orcs sentem que a vitória ensta em suas garras e vou desferir o seu último ataque, hoje.

A cena é quase indescritível. Caminhando em direção a horda, uns poucos homens. A frente deste pequeno grupo, um gigante. Carregando uma gigantesca espada, marcada por anos e mais anos de combates contra esses e outros inimigos, ele caminha corajosamente com um olhar que demonstra toda a fúria contida em sua mente. Espada, um presente do própio imperador a somente os melhores entre os melhores, vibra como se estivesse viva. Em sua armadura, as marcas da sua legião, os Ultra Marines.

A frente da legião orc, outro gigante. O temível warlord orc sentado em seu trono, comando suas bestas. Alem destes, outras bestas acompanham a temível horda.

Os orcs surpreendem-se com tamanha coragem dos space marines. Jamais viram um grupo tão pequeno, prostrar-se a sua frente.

- Waaaaagggggaahhhhhhhh!
Os orcs disparam na sua violenta investida.
-By the Emperorrrrrr!
O general solta seu grito de guerra, disparando.

Os orcs correm, gritam, disparam suas toscas bolters contra os space marines. A medida que o encontro se aproxima, percebem que aquele que parece tão pequeno a distância, agiganta-se a sua frente.

[User]
 - Waaagaaaahhhhh!
 (1d20+5)[ 6 ]  (2d4+4)[ 11 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 18 ]  (2d4+4)[ 6 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 9 ]  (2d4+4)[ 10 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 7 ]  (2d4+4)[ 7 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 21 ]  (2d4+4)[ 7 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 9 ]  (2d4+4)[ 11 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 16 ]  (2d4+4)[ 9 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 22 ]  (2d4+4)[ 11 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 9 ]  (2d4+4)[ 6 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 23 ]  (2d4+4)[ 9 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 12 ]  (2d4+4)[ 7 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 21 ]  (2d4+4)[ 10 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 12 ]  (2d4+4)[ 9 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 13 ]  (2d4+4)[ 11 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 11 ]  (2d4+4)[ 12 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 25 ]  (2d4+4)[ 9 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 17 ]  (2d4+4)[ 9 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 24 ]  (2d4+4)[ 8 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 23 ]  (2d4+4)[ 9 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 7 ]  (2d4+4)[ 11 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 6 ]  (2d4+4)[ 8 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 15 ]  (2d4+4)[ 8 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 20 ]  (2d4+4)[ 8 ]
 (1d20+5)[ 8 ]  (2d4+4)[ 7 ]

[User]
 (1d20+59)[ 71 ]  (3d6+27)[ 38 ]
-Uaaaaaaagghhh!

Os grupos de orcs são estraçalhados a cada voleio da espada do general. Os orcs tentam atingilo usando todas as forças que possuem, mas simplesmente não podem sequer fazer tremer o gigante azul. Os golpes do general são precisos e violentos, jogando pedaços de orcs para todos os lados.

 (1d20+20)[ 36 ]  (2d4+6)[ 14 ]
 (1d20+20)[ 30 ]  (2d4+6)[ 12 ]
 (1d20+20)[ 35 ]  (2d4+6)[ 9 ]
 (1d20+20)[ 31 ]  (2d4+6)[ 10 ]
 (1d20+20)[ 24 ]  (2d4+6)[ 11 ]
 (1d20+20)[ 29 ]  (2d4+6)[ 14 ]
 (1d20+20)[ 22 ]  (2d4+6)[ 10 ]
 (1d20+20)[ 32 ]  (2d4+6)[ 13 ]

[User]
 Nem mesmo os mais fortes orcs, conseguem atingi-lo. Ele é uma verdadeira fortaleza, poderosamente armada para tomar todas medidas retalhativas.

 (1d20+53)[ 71 ]  (6d6+27)[ 45 ]
 (1d20+48)[ 52 ]  (6d6+27)[ 48 ]
 (1d20+43)[ 62 ]  (6d6+27)[ 45 ]
 (1d20+38)[ 52 ]  (6d6+27)[ 44 ]

[User]
 As horas passam. Apenas metade dos bravos space marines ainda estão de pé. Oa atacantes ja conseguiram invadir a fortaleza, pilhando e destruindo tudo que viram pela frente. Porem, os defensores ainda continuam matando-os sem demonstrar nenhum tipo de cansaço. Os verdes tentam atingi-los, mas eles simplesmente são forte demais. Suas armaduras simplismente ignoram os tiros e laminas orcs. Suas voleios atravessam os corpos orcs como se fossem feitos de manteiga.

Os orks tentam mudar de tatica, usando granadas, armas de cerco. Mas os defensores, atacam com uma coordenação perfeita. Em tentativas mais desesperadas, os orcs simplesmente correm em direção aos space marines tentando sobrecarrega-los com seu peso e numero. Nesses momentos, os poderosos guerreiros do império, formam muralhas de espadas, lanças, bolters, reçachando todos aqueles que tentam ataca-los. O gigante general voa para cima do orcs, destruindo-os como se fossem apenas gravetos.

Mas a horda conta com outros tipos de bestas. Um enorme reptiliano aponta a frente dos space marines. Em um ataque consegue agarrar com sua enorme boca, um dos soldados e em seguida consegue engoli-lo.

O Grande General não se abala com a demonstração de força e parti para cima do oponente colossal.

[User] O general corre por entre as pilhas de restos de orc, atropelando os aqueles que não conseguem sair de seu caminho, e ataca com toda sua furia o corpo massivo do monstro.

[User]
 (1d20+53)[ 66 ] [roll]3d6+3d6+27[/roll] crítico[roll]6d6+6d6+1d6+54[/roll]
 (1d20+48)[ 63 ] [roll]3d6+3d6+27[/roll] crítico[roll]6d6+6d6+1d6+54[/roll]
 (1d20+43)[ 46 ] [roll]3d6+3d6+27[/roll] crítico[roll]6d6+6d6+1d6+54[/roll]
 (1d20+38)[ 55 ] [roll]3d6+3d6+27[/roll] crítico[roll]6d6+6d6+1d6+54[/roll]

[User]
 (1d20)[ 9 ]  [roll]3d6+3d6+27[/roll] cri [roll]6d6+6d6+1d6+54[/roll]
 (1d20)[ 6 ]  [roll]3d6+3d6+27[/roll] cri [roll]6d6+6d6+1d6+54[/roll]
 (1d20)[ 5 ]  [roll]3d6+3d6+27[/roll] cri [roll]6d6+6d6+1d6+54[/roll]
 (1d20)[ 14 ]  [roll]3d6+3d6+27[/roll] cri [roll]6d6+6d6+1d6+54[/roll]

[User]
 (6d6+27)[ 43 ]   (6d6+27)[ 43 ]  cri  (13d6+54)[ 103 ]
 (13d6+54)[ 103 ]   (6d6+27)[ 53 ]  cri  (13d6+54)[ 98 ]
 (6d6+27)[ 53 ]   (6d6+27)[ 44 ]  cri  (13d6+54)[ 92 ]
 (13d6+54)[ 98 ]   (6d6+27)[ 41 ]  cri  (13d6+54)[ 98 ]

[User]
 (6d6+27)[ 44 ]
 (6d6+27)[ 46 ]
 (6d6+27)[ 51 ]
 (6d6+27)[ 48 ]

Em seu salto, o Ultra Marine, acertou em cheio o corpo do monstro, segundo de outros golpes que fizeram sangrar o gigantesco ser. (189).

[User] O monstro enfurecido, partiu para cima para o minusculo ser que o atingiu. Num estrondoso movimento, o monstro tenta abocanhar o valente soldado ( (1d20+57)[ 60 ] . A gigantesca cabeça se aproxima rapidamente para ataca-lo, mas, incrivelmente, o enorme soldado consegura-la com sua enorme espada. Rechaçado, o reptil, tenta rasgar o seu oponente ( (1d20+52)[ 64 ] ) uma vez. O marine se desvia a tempo e ja se prepara para o novo ataque vem na forma da outra gigantesca garra ([roll]+52[/roll]). Mais uma vez, o general se esquiva, saltando para tras sem perder uma gota de sangue. Mais enfurecido, o monstro usa seu gigantesco rabo como arma ( (1d20+52)[ 57 ] . O golpe acerta, porem sua poderosa armadura o protege do dano causado. Em sua ultima tentativa, o gigante usa seus poderos chifres em uma tempestuosa investida ( (1d20)[ 10 ] ).

[User]
 Percebendo a oportunidade de um novo ataque, o general avança mais uma vez:

-Uaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrr!
 (1d20)[ 13 ]  (7d6+27)[ 47 ]
 (1d20)[ 13 ]  (7d6+27)[ 52 ]
 (1d20)[ 10 ]  (7d6+27)[ 55 ]
 (1d20)[ 13 ]  (7d6+27)[ 49 ]

[User] Os ataques atingem o gigante com gigantesca intensidade (203).

[User]
 War Forged Blade
M LN Warforged Warblade,  Level  9,  Init  +2,  HP  153/153,  Speed
 AC  22,  Touch  13,  Flat-footed  20,  Fort  +5,  Ref  +2,  Will  +0,  Base Attack Bonus
 One-handed																												 																												 																						+1 Morningstar																 																 																   +15/+10 (1d8+6,  )
 Secondary Natural																												 																												 																						Slam																 																 																   +9 (1d4+2,  )
 One-handed Heavy Shield   +8 (1d4+2,  )
   +1 Mithral Plating																 																 ,    +1 Heavy darkwood shield																 																													 																  (+6 Armor, +3 Shield, +2 Dex, +1 Deflect)
 Abilities  Str 20, Dex 14, Con 20, Int 14, Wis 10, Cha 6
 Condition  None


[User]
 For the rest of her class, the excursion to Suwa Shrine wasn't particularly interesting. The chance to avoid classes for a day was always welcome, but no one was excited to visit such a popular shrine, or listen to the teachers talk endlessly about its history. Kyoko, however, was looking foward to the visit. She turned from the bus window with a cheerful smile.

 "This could be fun! I mean, not that I'm really into shrines and history and all that, but I haven't had the chance to visit it since I came here. We were so busy moving in that we didn't really get to do anything tourist-y yet. Uh, if you understand what I mean, I guess."


[User]
 The Velvet Room, as Alexandra calls it, was beyond anything you could imagine. The first thing you notice is the dim color that reminds you of the door itself, but your sight is soon suppressed by a beautiful melody, and it takes you a few moments to realize where it is coming from. It is almost unbelievable that this song is sung by one woman and played on one simple piano. Lost in the song you almost forgot you have a purpose here, and before you have a chance to ask anything a huge nose appears before you. This nose is soon followed by a bizarre and a calm voice:
"Welcome to the Velvet Room. I am Igor, a servant of Philemon, and I am here to provide assistance."


[User]
 I created my own campaign and was DM. I hope to make this fun for you viewers to read.
A quick summary of the campaign. The two PCs wake up in a tavern together. They were friends since they met 10 years ago. And you'll see what happens from here.
Characters:
Sradoe Waja: Level 1 Female Elf Ranger
Weapon/Armor: Bow/Scale
Stats: Str: 14 Con: 17 Dex: 9 Int: 12 Wis: 17 Cha: 12
Fort: 15 Ref: 11 Will: 13 AC: 16
HP: 32 Skills: endurance, heal, athletics
Oevio Brumi: Level 1 Male Human Fighter
Weapon/Armor: Spear/Chainmail
Stats: Str: 16 Con: 8 Dex: 10 Int: 14 Wis: 16 Cha: 14
Fort: 16 Ref: 13 Will: 14 AC:16
HP: 23 Skills: athletics, heal, intimidate, streetwise
First session will be posted soon.

[User]
 Session #1
As our characters awaken, a man walks into the tavern. The ruffled adventurers struggle to stand up, as they have not been awake for days. The tavern is a bustling place in the center of Waspscare Village, a small village on the edge of the region of Pocejek (Pa-sa-jek). The man is wearing cloaked robes, and is glaring at the PCs. As Sradoe finally lifts herself off of the creaky floor, the man walks towards her. Oevio stares at the man, and sits on one of the stools, and asks for some whiskey. As the barmaid gets Oevio his whiskey, the man continues to approach Sradoe. As the barmaid grabs the bottle of whiskey, and starts pouring it, Oevio grabs the bottle, gets up, and walks to Sradoe while getting drunk. The man stares face to face with Sradoe and Oevio, and tells them about a mission he needs accomplished. It involves a local in town being eliminated, but he is well guarded. Sradoe and Oevio accept for 225 gp each. They set off to find more information about the local.
As they wander around the village they come across the famed oracle Exat. Exat is known for assisting young adventurers on quests. Oevio and Sradoe were only nineteen. Since Oevio was drunk (in my dming, being drunk is -3 to all stats and lasts for one hour in-game time), Sradoe was left with the higher charisma, so she was the one who talked. She didn't persuade Exat, yet he still gave them a piece of evidence. The mystery man's guards wear red triangle tattoos on their right arm as a sign of being an elite bodyguard. Exat also said that the only race of the guards were goblins, so they wouldn't be too hard to locate. They still didn't know where he was hiding. As Sradoe thanked Exat, Oevio fell over, and it wasn't because he was drunk. He was shoved by an invisible figure. The invisible figure went for Sradoe, but tripped over Oevio, and was no longer invisible. Sure enough, it was one of the man's guards. He charged Sradoe who nocked an arrow, but she didn't shoot it fast enough, and tumbled to the dirt road. Oevio got up, and grabbed his spear. The goblin stood up, but Oevio was so drunk he fell over again. This gave time to Sradoe who was able to reach her bow and shoot the goblin, but it wasn't enough to kill him. Oevio had to roll a Will to see if he could shake off his drunkeness. He succeeded. The goblin went after Sradoe, but failed his Reflex roll against Oevio. Oevio hit the goblin, and he died.
The goblin had an address written down on a piece of paper. "It might be a clue towards finding the man," claimed Oevio. Sradoe wasn't so sure.
At this point our session ended and we decided a new session would be played the next day. I will post that either today or tomorrow. Sorry if it sounds more commentated than the actual gameplay. If you want, leave me suggestions for improvements. Thanks!

[User]
 Session #2
From where I left off from the first session, Sradoe and Oevio had found an address dropped by the goblin bodyguard. Each building was numbered. The address had the numbers 844 on it. That would be near the Low District. As our PCs head towards the address, they come across another bodyguard. They snatch him, and run inside an abandoned building at the end of the road. Sradoe put him in shackles, and Oevio did the speaking this time. It was an interrogation session. The goblin spilled the location and personal info of the mystery man, and was thrown out in front of a moving horse carriage, and was hit and succumbed to his wounds. Ricaf was the mystery man's name. Ricaf was a middle-aged smuggler. He was notorious for smuggling missing items out of the region. He recently had smuggled the Heart of Gold from the Shrine of Ejden, which was in the village. The PCs went to the location, and only ran into two bodyguards. They were eliminated with ease. The PCs entered the building to find a farmer sitting on the floor, covered in blood. He was alive, but wouldn't be for long. They were at 844, where the goblin told the PCs to go. Ricaf wasn't there, so Oevio looked for a switch while Sradoe tended to the man's injuries. Oevio found one thing. A note. It said "Go to the Chapel, and justice will be found."
The person playing Sradoe had to leave, so we ended the session here. Thanks for reading!


[User]
 The world is in ruins. Thousands of unburied dead lie in ruined cities, acres of ash mark where forests once were, and once-roaring rivers are naught but a trickle of mud. Demons roam the countryside, leaving death and destruction behind them. It is indeed a terrible time to be a commoner, but for pragmatic heroes, this state of events is near ideal. Groups of mercenaries, some humanoid and some infernal, have taken up a dangerous line of work--killing demons and sealing shut the gates from whence they came. Particularly famous or powerful groups have been given the title "Bane of the Abyss" by the common folk, and are revered as celebrities, earning fame and fortune wherever they go. These warriors sometimes fight for justice or freedom, but usually just for personal gains.
Your group is known as a Bane of the Abyss, and after a few days of trekking a barren expanse of land, you have arrived in West River City, one of the last large cities remaining, due to its impressive preexisting fortifications. Apparently, they were having problems with a demon stronghold that cropped up nearby, and had no troops that could be sent out to eliminate it. Thus, your services were requested by the mayor.

The gate to the city is not large or grand. It is squat and dense, like the door to a bank vault. A small wooden sign next to the gate says "West River City" in Common and Infernal. After you approach the gate, a slit in the gate is slid open and a pair of eyes glares out from within.

"Who goes there?" shouts the owner of the eyes.  "State your business immediately! This city is under lockdown, so it would behoove you--"
Another voice cuts him off.  "Ray! Do you KNOW who these people are?"
 "Well, clearly not" , scoffs Ray,  "You might have noticed that I asked them--"
 "That's Azur, Johan, Neniu, Nephrus, and Tomi! They're a Bane of the Abyss, one of the most famous around these parts! Now shut up and get the Checker over here!"
"Fine. CHECKER!!"

After a little while, the eyes of an aged woman stare through the slit, and she says  "They are who they appear to be."

The gate opens.

[User]
 Eight hundred years. Eight hundred years of demon-slaying, and  nothing  had changed. No, that was a lie. Things had gotten  worse .

Chains of black iron dangle off of Azur's musclebound frame, his massive arms held uncomfortably at his sides. His skin is of a darker hue, a remnant of his time as a human. Blazing yellow eyes without pupils looked straight forward at the open gate, seeing only the doors open to his next assignment. A gleaming sword of cold iron rests in a chain cradle on Azur's back.

Looking back toward the others, he sees their reluctance to enter. Shaking his head, chains tinkling against each other, Azur steps forward. As he steps forward, he says to the gatekeeper,  "Names can be powerful things. Do not toss them around so lightly, or who knows what trouble you might summon."

[User] "Yuh-huh. Whatever you say, Azur,"  smiles a blonde humanoid in a colorful cloak and not much else. She runs her fingers through one of her long, dry ponytails, amused.  "Well, you can say  my  name if you want. I do love to hear it."

[User] If you're going to use my name at least use my full name. Johan Cochren, esquire.  Johan dusts off his "suit" and steps forward next.

[User] "Well I'm glad to be back in the city, more familiar territory is always nice." , Nephrus casually says as he walks in ignoring what the others are saying.

[User] All of our names are bantered about lightly already, intimidating a simple guardsman is pointless.   Azur's defense of the guard is made flatly, and he spares no look of apology or sympathy.  Indeed, he seems wholly unconcerned with the man.   Come along, we have somewhere to be.  I relish a return to the action.

[User]
 "Right! We're here at the request of the Mayor. Could you direct us to his office, please, so we can start working on this, 'stronghold,' we've heard so little about?"

 Spoiler: Knowledge check because why not
As West River seems to be one of the few remaining human-dominated cities, their mayor is probably famous enough to have stories and rumors circulating about everything from their security strategy to their love affairs. If nothing else, Tomi will probably be able to remember his or her name.

Knowledge (Nobility and Royalty):  (1d20+12)[ 25 ]

[User]
 One of the guards steps forth.
 "But of course! We shouldn't keep such a beautif--"
 "Ray. RAY! Stop. Just...Ugh, you make the worst decisions sometimes. Anyway,"  he says, turning back to the party,  "the mayor should be in the city hall. It's the largest building in the city, right in the middle. It shouldn't be too hard to find. Also, you'll find a wide variety of merchants here in case you need to purchase anything for your mission."
He nervously glances at Azur's hulking, clinking figure.  "Ah, and...Sorry about the name thing, uh, Sir Kyton. I just, um...Please proceed."

 Spoiler: Knowledge Check Result:
Geez, why'd you have to get such a high number?
William Blackstag IV was once a high-ranking military officer, who tolerated no weakness nor insubordination, and was even more skilled in oration than he was in tactics and swordplay. After he retired from the military, he ran for mayor of West River and won in a landslide. Some suspect he may have left the military because he couldn't take the hopelessness of the one-sided battles. Before he joined the military, he went by "Billy Blackstag", but he had to drop the name in order to uphold the image he wanted as he ascended the ranks.

[User] "It was also meant as a warning, guardsman. Demons are able to listen when their names are repeated. Don't let the temptation to gossip turn you into a possessed husk. The demons have already claimed too much."  The irony of a devil warning about "temptation" is not lost on Azur. Though he maintains a stoic demeanor, a slight grin develops in the back of his mind. He follows along with the "Bane" for lack of any real direction.   What a motley lot this is... Worse still is that I understand why I was stationed with them.


[User]
 The sprawling war camp surrounding you is the base camp for the Emporer's military... Gargantuan in size it is meant to train and disperse millions of troops... In front of you stands your instructor, as of today, and High General of the Empire Morty Nevermore. The tales from your village have spoken of him. As son of an evil conquering dragon, he was abandoned in hell itself to die... however he was rescued by war incarnate and trained in a pocket dimension in limbo devoted solely to the art for many years. The grizzled warrior standing before you seems for machine than creature with his metallic silver scales and glowing poison green eyes. "Strike me..." he growls through an english accent.

(I am writing this half asleep, have mercy.)


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[User]
 Spoiler
Reserved for update from previous sessions played in real-world.

[User]
 Vessa D'Orien has agreed to teach Po'Jak about the Way of the Khyber Fist. It seems odd that this girl, who is in her mid-twenties at most, even knows about the supposedly extinct demon-worshipping religion. But less than a week ago, she undoubtedly proved that she knows of the way when she conjured a ball of fire and used it in battle against the monstrous dracowolf.

Upon returning to Yrlag, Vessa resupplies herself with new equipment. The House Oriend caravan gives her a new travelling uniform to replace the one that she wore for weeks when she was a hobgoblin prisoner. She also new that Po'Jak planned to head north toward the Demon Wastes, so she prepared for the frigid northern climate by buying a new black cloak. She also purchased a crossbow, ammunition, and a dagger to defend herself with.

[User]
 Bo'Jak jingled the bag of gold coins in his hand as he strolled through the market place a pace behind Vessa. All his life he had never possessed so much as a single copper to himself. In his hand he held what seemed to him a fortune. As he passed the various vendors in the market place he reflected on this matter. Was this the Khyber way? Power it seemed brought many rewards. Foes were vanquished, wealth was accumulated, and he was respected, nay, feared by others. Yet all this seemed trivial. Truly the Way served a greater purpose than gathering material wealth and victory of enemies, it had to. Never the less he was for the moment solvent and had a journey to prepare for.

Stopping along the various stalls alongside Vessa he purchased a new set of clothes and a decent pair of boots fit for travelling. The rags he had been traveling might have been adequated in the marshy Shadowlands but they would offer no protection in the frigid wastes. He restocked on field rations, purchased a new blanket, rope, and another set of caltrops.

These itmes were quickly stowed in his backpack burying the Book of the Khyber Fist. Throughout all this he watched Vessa carefully. He had come to understand the newfound wisdom he possessed was taboo, seen as evil by others, and because of that he kept it secret. Yet this stranger seemed to know much about Khyber and even offered to help him learn to control his power. However he could not bring himself to trust her completely. He agreed to have ehr travel with him north into the Demon Wastes on the promise of new learning, yet he could not help but ponder what her motives truly were.

As the pair moved away from the market place and there seemed to be few to overhear what might be said Bo'Jak inquired of her.  "Why would you help me along this path? Others I have crossed seem to fear anything to do with Knyber."

[User]
 "I want to teach you the Way of the Khyber Fist because the order cannot afford to have knowledge of the Way uncontrolled. That would be you, since you have found a book explaining what the Way is. Since you have it, I am forced to teach you about it. Understand?"

She slung her crossbow around her shoulder so that it hung behind her back as she walked.

 "Others will fear you, it comes along with the nature of the Way. But you should use this to your advantage. Fear can throw an opponent off-balance, and you especially, being what you are-"  She is obviously referring to your status as a half-orc. " "-you can strike fear into your opponents."

[User]
 Bo'Jak was surprised by her candor. He had not been expecting such an honest reply, only more ambiguity on her part. Excitement stirred in him as she spoke of control, and how the fear he inspired in others could be used to his advantage. He had always struggled with being an outsider. The idea of this aspect of his being could be a strength never occured to him. Yet her response only raised more questions.

"You spoke of the order. What Order is this? Are there others who know of this Way?"


[User]
 The extras & features include: A "Creating the Battle of Blackwater Bay" behind-the-scenes featurette; a "Game of Thrones: Inner Circle" roundtable discussion with cast and producers; 12 audio commentaries; "The Religions of Westeros" as described by author George R.R. Martin and series creators D.B. Weiss and David Benioff, Character Profiles as told by the cast members themselves; an In-Episode Guide with information on the characters and locations of each scene per episode; hidden "Dragon Eggs";  an animated depiction of Westeros' "Histories & Lore"; a "War of the Five Kings" guide to bring you up to speed with all aspects of the race for the Iron Throne; and

DVD and digital copies of the episodes themselves.

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[User]
 This Blu-ray is rich with fascinating looks into both the creation of the show and into the imagined world of George R. R. Martin's Westeros. "Creating the Battle of Blackwater Bay" is a must-see for those interested in the technical aspects of the creation of film and television. The commentaries provide great insight into the production of the series with details about the structure the story, the choices that Weiss and Benioff made that differ from the novel and why certain sequences needed to be cut.

The anecdotal stories are often equally entertaining, though it should be noted that frequently when the actors are providing the commentary they get caught in a loop of repeating the phrase "he or she is amazing" about their cast-mates until they get to the scenes they are actually a part of. It's true that each member of the cast in remarkable, but that said, those portions of the commentaries tend to be slightly less revelatory.

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[User]
 Welcome to the West Marches.

Once an untamed land, the First Settlement was almost a century ago. However, between war in the East and the nature of the West Marches, it did not take long for civilisation to lose its foothold.

Now, the only traces of the First Settlement are scattered ruins, untold treasures, and Hamborough, the last standing fort in the West.

We find our band of intrepid adventurers in the Far West Inn, the finest drinking establishment in the West.

Really, its the only one in the West, but still.

[User]
 Ios

The past couple of hours, a plump and heavyset young nobleman has been puttering around the tavern. He's tanned, sporting a black van dyke beard which is decorated with dangling golden chains and beads and rings. His hair is wiry and jet-black, and he's wearing rich furs with fine clothing underneath, a lovely jade and gold fabric with  trimmings inlaid with delicate filigree. The ornate golden key dangling from a chain around his neck marks him out as a priest of Abadar, the law and civilisation focused Judge of the Gods. He wears brown leather shoes, well made, but perhaps not ideal for marching. He's carrying a dagger at his belt, and has a crossbow slung over his shoulder that is so well maintained and polished that it must see little use.

He laughs easily, and loudly, and seems to be everyone's friend, or at least, endeavouring to be. He moves around the tavern, slapping shoulders, telling jokes, listening to stories- any stories, no matter how poorly told or longwinded.

Finally, having exhausted the knowledge (or at least the patience) of the other tavern goers, he moves over to where the two dwarves, the halfling and the other human sit together. He rests his hands on the table and smiles warmly at everyone.

 "Hello, goodfolk! My name is Ios Septimus. I don't want to waste your time with trite pleasantries, so forgive me for cutting straight to the point; you each carry weapons. You didn't arrive with a merchant caravan or a nobleman's entourage, so you aren't hired guards. You must be here to explore. You two-"  he says, nodding to Dunngar and Ingka,  "Have the look of old soldiers who have fought together. You, good halfling, you're di Largesse. Aren't you the fellow that saved Reynauld and his friends from some trapped ruin, back out east? I heard him singing your praises. And you in the hood, I'm... not quite sure what to make of you, yet. But you're watching everyone in here with all the wariness of a cat. I think that's a righteous trait, for an explorer. Are you all heading out together?"

He takes the chain with the painted golden key from around his neck, and rests it on the table in front of him, as if it were a proof of his credentials in some way.

 "You'll want a good priest. If you already have one, well... you could do worse than to bring two healers. I would be pleased to join your company, if you'll have me."

He soberly regards each of you in turn, pausing to see how everyone is reacting to his intrusion. His sombre expression soon cracks into a smile.

 "Say yes, and the next round's on me."

 Spoiler: Rolls
 Knowledge: Religion   (1d20+6)[ 21 ]  To know about the "mythic history" of the nearby area, whatever that refers to, any gods popular in or associated with this place, and any undead that might be around. Casting  Guidance  before roll.

 Diplomacy (Gather Information)   (1d20+7)[ 19 ]  for information about the nearby area and opportunities to acquire riches. Casting  Guidance  before roll. Expending a use of  Silver-Tongued Haggler  to grant me +1 on the roll.

[User] Ingka is sitting quietly, listening to the pleasant conversation among her peers as the brash Septimus offers his services. " And what'll you charge? " she asks gruffly, sneering as she waves the barwench over for another flagon of the hard potato liquor that they serve at the tavern. What they called "dwarven ale" tasted worse than her piss and was weaker than a gnome's fart, and she'd said as much the first time she'd drank it. But, fortunately for everyone involved, the barwench had wisely recommended their strongest drink, and Ingka had since developed a liking toward it. It didn't taste like much, almost like water, but it packed a kick and after four or five flagons of it, she could start to feel a slight buzz.

[User]
 "Aye, me friend's right." I ain't been 'ere in human lands long, but I know folks don't just com'an offer up services for free."  Dunngar said, warily eyeing the priest. He had barely touched his mug of ale. Couldn't stand the stuff, and was genuinely impressed that Ingka could swallow more than a mouthful.

 "If you knew more about these parts I'd have a mind t'hear ya out."  Dunngar's suspicion of humans was not without grounds. He had only just arrived, and his first real experience with outside folk was helping even the odds for Ingka in a four to one brawl.  "Else, ye got no business with us, and we've got no business with you."  He finished in a fatter of fact tone.

[User]
 Gale

The child-sized Gale peers up from behind a mug that looks comically oversized in front of him.  His expression lights up at this strange human's recognition of his "deeds", and he puffs his chest out with pride, about to welcome the newcomer warmly, but darts his gaze back and forth between Ingka and Dunngar and his face cools unconvincingly.   "Yeah, definitely,"  he says with an affected, knowing air in the lowest tone he could muster (still octaves above even Ingka's).   "What're you charging, human?  Those fancy clothes probably take more to keep up than the entire haul, uh ... Raynard (?) and I pulled from that ruin."   He lifts the mug to his lips with his clenched fist, white-knuckled and trembling from having lifted the giant thing so many times and not taken more than a sip; the brown muck inside, quaffed in such high quantities by Ingka, burned his tongue and reminded him too much of drinking downriver from the town's privy.  Pretending to drink and wiping his mouth afterward, he sets the flagon down heavily and leans back, folding his arms behind his head.

[User]
 Ios

Ios doesn't seem dissuaded by the somewhat frosty reception, but takes it on the chin, as if he expected it.

 "Charge? Why, an equal portion of any treasure we find, bounties we earn, or wages we’re paid. A fair share, so it is judged."  Ios intones, solemnly. However he acts like the rest of the time, the priest clearly takes coin very seriously.  "We have no reason to trust each other, but if you have need of a cleric, then I have need of a group. If not... no hard feelings, eh?"

He meets Dunngar's gaze.  "As for my knowledge... church records of this area are piecemeal, but make mention of increased undead around sites of the massacres and atrocities that occurred during the First Settlement. If any of you know your history, we might know of areas to avoid."

He takes it upon himself to pull up a chair. He takes a swig from his tankard and then grimaces, staring at it accusingly.  "Gods above... I've pissed better beer than this. Anyway. About the surrounding area, those that came before us have already had most of the easier pickings... but Aelfric’s tomb is said to be relatively untouched. These locals all fear it. Now, maybe that’s because something genuinely powerful walks there. Or maybe there’s nothing there that the five of us couldn’t handle, and it’s simply not been attempted by a strong and organised group afore now. If it turns out to be too dangerous, we can turn away to explore elsewhere. But if we don't even check, a braver group may beat us there. It smells like an opportunity. We must at least investigate."

He frowns.  "I confess my ignorance of the noble bloodlines of this region. Do any of you know of Baron Aelfric? His history, his deeds? Did he a die a wealthy man?"

[User]
 Dunngar nodded approvingly, satisfied with the knowledge the priest presented.  "Well, ye know a thing or two then."  the dwarf said gruffly.  "An' I 'spose a priest'll come in handy, if there be shamblers walkin' about the lands. As long as an even share be enough for you, it'll be enough for me."  he finished, and took a sip from his tankard out of habit, forgetting that he was not in dwarven lands. Dunngar immediately regretted it, but swallowed the brew down none-the-less.

 "I ain't never heard of this Baron. Jus' arrived meself not a few days ago. But 'is tomb might have a bit more history in it, an' that's what I'm after."  This was true, Dunngar needed to know more about the area. He had no idea where Klatsh, the lost dwarven outpost was, and not a clue as to why it was abandoned to begin with.

Then he stopped suddenly, realizing he had forgot his manners.  " Well, I be a bit daft today! 'Ere we are about ta work with ye an' you only know of Gale o're here. Me name is Dunngar!"  The dwarf said pridefully,  "Dunngar Honor-Axe! The human here who looks like he spends more time in woods then a tavern is Tsalith."  He added with a nod towards the ranger.  "And this be Ingka, a mightier lass I've yet to see!"  He finished, giving a Ingka a slap to her shoulder.

[User] Ingka raises her mug in acknowledgement, and smiles slightly. If Dunngar said someone was alright, he probably was. The dwarf had been a good friend to her--her best, to say sadly but truthfully. Of course, there wasn't much competition. " An equal split seems fair enough. The tomb's as good a place as any to start your search, Dunngar, " she nods approvingly.

[User]
 Tsalith

Tsalith nods.  He wears his hood, even indoors, but they can not hide his vivid green eyes, exploring the room even as he sits.
" I'm in.  I expect you'll need my skills traveling anyway. "

[User] "That we will."   Dunngar said.  "How long will it take ye ta prepare for a little wilderness march, Ios?"

[User]
 Ios smiles, and raps a hand against the side of his backpack.

 "I am supplied and ready. We could leave today, while we still have the light, if you gentlemen have finished scowling at your drinks?"

[User]
 Gale

Smiling broadly, Gale eagerly pushes himself off the human-sized chair and lands unsteadily on the ground, losing none of his enthusiasm.   "Indubitably!"  he cries, the giant stein forgotten on the tabletop.   "Welcome to the expedition!  Let's blow this joint."

[User] Heh, ye excited, Gale?"  Dunngar said with a smirk. Then he turned by to Ios.  "I got a mule ready an' packed in the stable with a good amount of supplies for meself. I 'spose I be ready to make the trek out doors. But I'd rather rather hear from our experts. Is it a good idea to head out today?"

[User]
 Ios ***** his head at Tsalith and Ingka, assuming they are the "experts" in question.

 "Well? From your own knowledge, is a departure today promising?"

[User]
 Ingka swallows the remainder of her mug in a single tremendous gulp, then lets out an enormous belch. " It  is  a good day to die, " she says, a twinkle in her eye. " But adventure is also a fine proposition. "

 Spoiler
Survival:  (1d20+5)[ 24 ]


[User]
 georgia-vs-florida-live-stream
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[User] Do not forget that the brain is in charge of licking 25% of the energy required by your entire body up and weighs three pounds. Exercise increases power and energy benefiting brain function.


[User] Obviously, you may not have the capacity to wind up exactly on target everytime, but you should employ these quantities as solid guidelines. I have observed with several consumers that employing prepared / and foods or nutrition bars and protein drinks is a great approach to help match your aims.


[User] fgxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxdhgd


[User]
 After days of traveling, across the borders of where people despised you for the wrongs you have done. All that seems to matter to you is a place where you're terrible deeds aren't well known. A place where you can hide from the enemies you have made. And a place to continue your schemes and goals.

You finally come upon an intersection in your path, which all connect to a nearby village.

[User] Wil ,  Tharizun's Madman  Wil looks either way and starts muttering to himself,   "Which way....yes which way should we go......we need no prying eyes...which way......"    He then looks at the others,  "Well, which down to go to now.....we need privacy....."


[User] The Full Council has been called for an urgent meeting.  Many of you are gathered in the Council Hall, but the usual chairs and tables are missing, leaving only an empty room (perhaps the servants did not have enough time to set up the hall properly).  Every passing minute adds to the members of the council present.  None of the Small Council are present yet, nor anyone of much importance, as such nobles were powerful enough to linger after such an urgent summons.  The only important noble present is Lord Tyrion Lannister, standing in a corner where a table of refreshments has been placed with a winecup in his hand.  While technically a member of the Full Council, Lord Tyrion rarely appeared for the meetings, preferring the whore houses and taverns to the Council Hall.

[User]
 The Most Devout septa Dorotha enters the council hall, her hands folded humbly as almost always. She watches those who are present, and her eye falls on Tyrion Lannister. She finds him a disgusting little figure, not just from his appearance, but also from his behaviour. He behaves as someone completely without breeding. And that while his sister is such a great queen, far more decent, just like his elder brother. Those have civilization, which the imp clearly lacks.

She maintains her usual look of serenity, but she still doesn't feel entirely at ease in King's Landing yet, she doesn't know everyone yet, and her position isn't as strong yet. But she won't be a follower, that goes against her nature. She is one of the greatest of the clergy, and the clergy, everyone knows, are best suited to governance. BEtter than any worldly authority.

[User]
 Jeyne Hunter was a youth among giants and fools. She walked amidst those in the Full Council like one might step through a strange, new garden. Her eyes flicked from one face to another, denoting House, age and trying to recall anything interesting about them. It was the beginning of what might be the greatest adventure of her young life, an adventure full of court politics, powerful nobles and maybe even a spot of danger. Who was to say?

Kennet had a say of course. She suspected that if her brother was not one of Lord Arryn's personal guards, she'd be sitting out her twenty-fourth year back at home with her aging mother and grandfather. She'd likely have to suffer yet another season of suitors, old men and idiot boys who her mother felt could afford her.  Or I could afford them,  she thought with a touch of bitterness. Not one came with hopes of love, or even desire.

She took an offered goblet of wine and swirled it gently, her eyes looking within. It was the color of blood, and the color of Kyra's lips when she painted them. The wine didn't taste half so sweet. The thought made her anxious and she turned to see the Lord Tyrion Lannister. The sight of him was not nearly as bad as everyone  said  it would be. It distracted her, which was good and she studied him for a brief moment. Was this little man worth getting to know? Did he have any pull? His father had been hand to the old, Mad King. His brother was in the Kingsguard, but he was called Kingslayer. His sister, however, she was Queen. Cersei was someone that Jeyne very much wished to know.

What was it Petyr told her? Patience was a virtue but so was an open eye and open ear. Friends were rungs to a ladder spun through chaos and chaos was handled with gold. She smiled to herself and made note. She wouldn't speak to Tyrion, not yet, but perhaps in the future.

[User]
 Eventually, the vast majority of the full council has arrived and is mingling.  You know most of the council, and many are nobles of various houses, big and small.  None of the small council has arrived yet, which is unusual, as is the lack of the normal furnishings.  A small gong is sounded, and Lord Tyrion walks to the front  of the room.  Dozens of servants carrying baskets of parchment enter as well, standing around the outside of the council.

 "Fellow members of the Full Council, my thanks to you for accepting my invitation to gather on such short notice.  It is by the wishes of my dear sister, Her Majesty Queen Cersei, that I gather you all in for some important announcements.  The first, and simplest being, that she, and King Robert and the small council of course, have some instructions for each of you.  The servants will be passing these around now."   Indeed the servants were handing parchments out with a bow or curtsey to the various council members assembled.   "The second is that these instructions are for you alone.  Do not share what they say under the utmost penalties.  Do not forget that Her Majesty is still a Lannister, and our motto holds true."   The Imp now took a seat in a nearby chair, brought in with the servants.   "Finally,"  he said as the last parchment was handed out.   "The small council has decided they have no further need for the services of the full council.  You are all dismissed with thanks for your service.  That is all, please see yourselves out."   He took another drink from the winecup that he had never sat down.  He seemed displeased with the whole council, or maybe it was with his task.  Either way, he sounded irritable.  A servant refilled his cup before being shooed away.

The notes:

Jeyne

 Spoiler

Dearest Jeyne,

Forgive my part in dissolving the full council, but there is too much dispersal of power in King's Landing, and the small council and the monarchs must have as much influence as possible in the coming days.

I am worried about Lord Jon Arryn.  He has been asking many questions lately that could pose grave danger to him.  He is a competent Hand and King Robert looks to him for many things.  Should Arryn be killed, the kingdom will become shambles.

I always think fondly of you,
-Petyr

Dortha

 Spoiler

High Septa Dortha,

I am asking you for a personal favor.  I will be in your debt should you complete this task for me, and as you know, a Lannister always pays her debts.  Jeyne Hunter is being recruited by Littlefinger for one of his plots.  He has her watching Jon Arryn, but for what purposes I do not know.  Approach her and inform her you have been asked by a mutual friend to assist her on her mission.  I must know what plots that whoremongerer is up to.

-Queen Cersei

[User]
 Dorotha feels slighted when she hears this news, she arrived only recently, and now this. And then the note. She has to force herself to not smile. From such an esteemed person. She quickly puts it away, it will be burned once she has returned to her abode. And she looks around, estimating the reactions of as many others as possible, and of course, to look for lady Hunter. She will have to make contact with her, but preferably not under the eye of so many spies. Especially not those belonging to the filth.

Her mind works hard while the septa appears to be in prayer. She has to make contact somehow, without being noticed. But how? If only she knew where Jeyne prayed, that would make things so much easier. And then she has a plan. She starts to walk through the crowd, heading towards one of the many exits, but this path crosses that of the young lady, and appearing absent-minded Dorotha brushes against her. Immediately she lowers her eyes and says: "Let us pray for salvation in these hard times."

[User]
 Jeyne stood, confused at what transpired. What did it mean? Why would they disband the full council and what did it mean that Tyrion Lannister was delivering the news? She made a mental note to look into that further, if the opportunity presented itself. When she obtained her letter, she waited until she had a moment of privacy to read it.

 What?  she thought as she read. Why would Petyr help dissolve the council? Wasn't her being on this council part of why she was brought out here? What was she going to do now? Would she have to go back home? Then, of course, she read on.

 A danger to Jon Arryn?  The thought was terrifying! He was her father's liegelord and if something happened to him, what might come of the Hunters? Of her? She thought of her brother, who was one of Lord Arryn's guardsmen. She had to tell him, had to warn him. But how could she do that without simply showing him this letter? She daren't do that. He didn't know about her involvement with the Master of Coin. And what was Lord Arryn looking into?

A woman brushed against her, jarring her out of her momentary panic. It was the Septa. She'd seen Dortha on the Council before. She was a powerful woman within the Sept. She bowed her head to her.  Dark times? Does she know something?  It all felt like it was coming at her so fast!

"Yes, my lady," she said. "May the Mother guide us to wisdom."

[User] "She watches over us all. The Seven Who Are One always watch, and always judge our justice. But they have given their signs to guide us even through the darkest hours. When doubt surrounds us and we are beset by a thousand questions. There are answers to every question. The life of a young lady such as you must be complicated, away from your family in this wretched hive of scum and villainy. So please, do visit me for prayer and meditation.", Dortha answers. She knows that it's not very subtle, but they must speak in a more private place. There are great things about to happen.

[User]
 She listened to the Septa speak, finding it odd that this woman would choose  her  of all people to talk to. She was no one. Which made her instantly suspicious and curious as well.

"I was thinking of praying at the Sept tomorrow morning, for the health of our King and Queen," she said, offering her most innocent smile.

[User] "It will be most gladdening to see that, prayer is important for the soul, and also for the temporal life.", Dortha answers, before turning around and leaving the hall behind her. She needed time to think about all this, the queen, the whoremonger, and this girl. So many things, usually things are so much more slowly. This city truly is a different place.

[User]
 Jeyne watched the Septa go and then turned her eyes back on the letter in her hands. She had to get rid of it, burning it perhaps. She took her leave of the audience chamber and swiftly went to her rooms to do just that. With the letter safely taken care of (should that happen without issue), she sat and quickly wrote a letter to her brother, asking him to come have a drink with her at his earliest convenience. The Full Council was disbanded and she was suddenly full of time and she'd like to see him.

Her fingers gripped the pen tightly, almost writing that he should bring Kyra. She left it out.

Once the letter was written, she found a maid to deliver it. She made sure to try and find Dacey, a girl who usually carried notes for her from Petyr. She'd be trustworthy after all.

((Circles test perhaps?))

[User]
 Jeyne manages to find Dacey, but the maid is in deep conversation with a dark haired boy of probably ten.  When she notices you, she shoos the boy away, and curtseys deeply.   "Good day to you, m'lady.  What can Dacey do for your ladyship?"

----

Dortha wanders away in contemplation.  Few bother the Septa, but ahead of her a scuffle breaks out.  Two brigands are quickly pummelled nearly to death by a pair of city guardsmen.

[User]
 "Hello Dacey,"  Jeyne said, smiling at her.  "I have a message that I need delivered to my brother, Kennet Hunter. It must reach his hands and his only. Can you do that for me?"

She held out a rolled parchment, something she'd sealed in plain wax. In it, the message was simple.  Brother, I fear that our Lord Arryn may be in danger. I can not say more, but be watchful, won't you? -J"

[User] The most devout septa sees the fight break out, and she knows her duty. She walks over to the scene:  "What is the cause of this disturbance of the peace?"

[User]
 "Of course, m'lady, I live to serve."   She curtseyed again, but her eyes flit to the doorway the boy exited from.   "Is there anything else, or shall I take this straight away?"

-----

 "Forgive the disturbance, High Septa, these two were demeaning the name of her Majesty.  We just need to soften them up so they don't give us any trouble on the way to the gaol."

[User] "What sort of foul man would speak ill of our queen? She is one of the very pillars of our realm. By which words did these ruffians turn to infamy?"

[User] "Terrible things, Lady.  I dare not repeat them verbatim, but suffice to say they called into question the lineage of the royal children, if I need to be more plain than that, I can, but I believe you have my understanding."

[User] "From men who are that horrible I withdraw the protection of the faith. To speak ill of her grace, and the heir to the throne is truly a great crime. Please, do not be merciful on them. They do not deserve it." , Dortha answers before she continues on her way. Such claims as these men made are true crimes and sins. They destabilize the realm, and that is simply unacceptable.

[User] "Take it to him straight away,"  she said with a look.  "I will know if you delay. And speak of this to  no one ! Do you understand? I'm trusting you, Dacey."

[User]
 "Yes, M'lady"  Dacey says before running off.  You feel fairly sure she will take care of her task.  She has been a reliable servant.

-----

 "We will be sure to punish them thoroughly, Septa, they will likely not see the light of day ever again, if they live through the King's judgement."

[User] "Excellent. They deserve nothing more." , Dortha answers before she continues on her way, wondering about these allegations. What sort of madman would voice such things?

[User]
 With Dacey off on her task, Jeyne returned to her rooms, her mind reeling with implications. What could she do? Who should she talk to? Surely her brother was a good check first. But what of the other voices among the Council? And there was the Septa... what had she meant by all that? A septa had power among those in Westeros, she should befriend this woman.

She smiled to herself, feeling as though she were making some progress. Still, she was far from certain of her path. There were other minor ladies in the Council, she should speak to them and find out what they think of the event. Perhaps even see if they got notes.

Quickly she went to her writing table again and scribbled out a letter of invitation to the young Lady Corbray, cousin to Lyn Corbray and niece to Lyonel Corbray of Heart's Home. Surely she might have a pleasant early dinner with a fellow Lady of the Vale? With the letter sealed and waxed, she had it sent via messenger. Anyone would do, for she had no fear of anyone knowing of such a plan. It was common for those of the Vale to stick together after all...

 Spoiler: OOC Notes
This is likely another Circles roll, though I don't know if we'd call this a test as very little is as stake. The only thing that could compromise it is if Lady Corbray turns out to be adversarial and Jeyne has no idea.


[User]
 Captain's Log, Stardate 66963.5
   “
U.S.S. Sakarya has arrived without incident at Keroda Station, Arinas Delta star system for diplomatic mission. The Genara are celebrating the three-hundredth anniversary of the formation of their alliance, with a massive celebration and trade conference on Arinas Delta IV.

In addition to Special Assistant Kinsey, there are to be representatives from the Ferengi, the Cardassian Union, and more than a dozen Federation and non-Federation worlds, as well as trade and technical representatives from all over the Alpha Quadrant.

Mr. Kinsey is Special Assistant to the Federation Undersecretary for Humanitarian Relief, and reports directly to Federation Undersecretary Tollis. Kinsey is specifically responsible for coordinating Federation relief efforts in the Otorin Sector, and has had dealings with Retributor and Ticonderoga
.
Because of the sheer number of vessels on hand, Sakarya has been “anchored” in the Keroda Roadstead, well within transporter range- but our hosts have mandated that all travel to and from the surface be conducted by shuttlecraft or orbital lighter.

Sakarya is exciting a lot of attention from the locals, as she's larger and more advanced than anything they've yet built, and we've had to gently turn away several of the more....enthusiastic...admirers wanting to come aboard.

Mister Kinsey and his party are been eager to disembark, and quite frankly- have been demanding company. After three weeks underway, the crew is also eager for a change of scenery and a little R&R.  The general mood at Keroda Station seems to be one of general celebration and a Carnivál atmosphere.

My senior officers and I are now departing for the diplomatic dinner and have been invited to enjoy shore leave at the Station once that is completed.”

Everyone is wearing dress uniforms, feeling more or less comfortable in them. The shuttle bay doors open, and the delegation is on its way down to the planet. Space is quite busy all around, with shuttles and larger transports coming and going to a variety of ships. It's not hard to navigate as long as the given dorections are followed, but some Ferengi shuttle seems not to have done so and has collided with a native vessel. They are just beginning to tractor it back to their ship.

Keroda Colony is a sprawling sea-front colony heavily reminiscent of Venice and the Mediterranean on Earth. Narrow canals and waterways are almost as common as stone roads, bridges, and walk-ways, and the architecture has a distinctly neo-classical flavor to it: a mix of Venice and Istanbul, exotic, yet somehow familiar.

Viewed from the air, the harbor front and most waterways are jammed with boats, skiffs, water-taxi's, and small pleasure craft- while the bridges and walkways are crowded with people. Fireworks punctuate the beauty of the
night sky and light up various parts of the city.

The shuttle is directed to a small landing pad- actually, a large barge- anchored in the harbor.  Leaving the
shuttle, its motion is slight, but still noticeable. Waiting at the far end of the barge is a sharply dressed young man appearing to be slightly bored.

[User] On the way down Ashley repeatedly gazes out the viewport, appears lost in thought for a moment, and then looks back at a small notepad. After several such unsuccessful attempts to concentrate on the notes he speaks up.   So, what sort of local food do the Genarans prepare for this type of event?

[User]
 T'Loran, as would be expected of a Vulcan, was the picture of serenity on the way down. Admittedly, the picture was rather deceptive in this case - behind her carefully cultivated stoic image, the thought kept on repeating:

 Oh, Surak, it's going to be humid, isn't it? All these years in Starfleet and they repay me by sending me to a water planet...

Of course, she was exaggerating a little. But then, to a native of a desert world, even the average federation starship was a little too humid for true comfort... let alone somewhere with actual canals in it!

It was Ashley's interruption that finally broke her out of the cycle of worry. " I do not know,  " she admitted, before slipping a hand inside her dress uniform. Honestly, she doubted that she had been the intended recipient of the query. Statistically, it was most likely to have been directed at Special Assistant Kinsey. However she did not notice Ashley directing the query to him, specifically, so she judged it to be... what was the phrase again? 'Fair Game'?

When her hand emerged again, it bore a standard issue PADD. This one had been pre-loaded with every diplomatic briefing on the Genara that she could find the evening before. She'd only read the first couple before running across a mention of the canal system - at that point, her 'enthusiasm', such as it had been, had vanished. Still, the information was likely on the PADD somewhere, and searching for Genaran Culinary Information would be a welcome distraction...

 One of these days I will have to find a way to conceal my Tricorder and Phaser under my dress uniform. Diplomatic occasions or no, it feels wrong to leave those behind...

[User] "I do not know," Kinsey replies just then, but he definitely sounds cheerful about it. "A whole new experience, as everytime visiting a new world, isn't it?" His expression says "it's why I got into Starfleet."

[User]
 There was no overt emotion in the glance T'Loran directed at Kinsey, but she held it just a fraction too long for comfort before finally speaking. In terms of Vulcan body language, it was one method of suggesting another Vulcan had insufficiently considered what they were saying. Or, in any other species' cultural terms, it was her way of calling Kinsey a bit of an idiot.

Without risking a disciplinary hearing, anyway.

" I fail to see how being aware which of the foods on offer could react badly with my physiology - despite being entirely appropriate for, say, humans - would reduce the value of the 'experience' we are about to encounter. Unless trips to Sickbay are considered a pleasurable thing by your people? "

She should have checked this information last night. She *knew* she should have checked this information last night. But she got distracted by the canals, and now she was facing having to play another round of 'hide your appetite' until she could get back to the ship. Surak taught the suppression of emotion for some very good reasons, after all. Her emotions were on the verge of making her very hungry... not the greatest ill a Vulcan had ever suffered for letting their control slip, but still a decent reminder that she needed to be more vigilant about such things.

[User]
 Sickbay is quite interesting to visit, but only professionally. I am just hoping none of the food sings this time. I swore a solemn oath never to eat singing food again.   Ashley holds his hand up and gazes into the distance, whispering   Never again.

He slides his notepad into a compartment. Looking out the viewport,   I'm glad I'm not in charge of security here. This sort of event must give them nightmares.   He frowns slightly as he settles into his chair.

[User]
 "Well," Kinsey replies with even more eagerness in his voice, "I did, of course, check the general compatibility of the food, just not the details, you see. But from what I heard, they are pretty big on vegetables and fruits." Then his head turns to Ashley. "Singing food? Now that would be an experience I could do without, unless it is in a Klingon opera."

Once the shuttle has landed and everyone is out among a bunch of other vessels coming and going, Kinsey is polite enough to wait until the captain has left the shuttle, despite his bounciness about the assignment. Waiting at the far end of the barge is a sharply dressed young man, wearing the newest style of Federation business class suit, complate with the long wide sleeves covering almost the whole hand. "That's Mr. Evan," Kinsey sighs. "He's been the one I've been communicating with. A bit of a dull fellow, but quite effective."

If Mr. Evan has heard the last remark, he gives no sign. "Consul Grav has already gone on ahead to the reception, and I have been assigned to get you pointed in the right direction and answer any questions you might have. Captain, Mr. Kinsey... this wy please."  He quickly hustles you into a small skiff for the ride to shore.

"Also an impatient fellow," Kinsey whispers. The man just can't seem to stop smiling.

Even at a half-mile from shore, the noise of the crowds and blaring music is impressive. As you get close enough to make out details, they discern that the locals are dressed in a bewildering variety of clothing ranging from normal civilian dress to velvet and silk gowns and elaborate cloth-and-papier-màché costumes and masks.

[User] Ashley inhales deeply and lets out a prolonged sigh.   Ah, fresh air. Can't get that smell aboard a starship. Filters take out all the best parts.   He takes a seat near the edge and looks into the water.   Any interesting tales regarding sea monsters on this world, Mr. Evan?

[User] Evan looks confused for a slight moment. "Ah, yes, of course. There is a tale very like the one on Veridelma II about swarms of tiny, but evil beings pretending to be fish and sneaking up on the unbweary swimming unbidden in their waters. Also something about a flying whale of sorts, but I don't remember the details, the teller of the tale had a slight issue with an intoxicating substance. Generally, the native popolation doesn't tend to endulge in fairy tales, though."


[User]
 Once again the sun rises over the low mountains to the East, seeming unusually bright as it rises into the cloudless sky. Fitting, you suppose, for this day marks the beginning of your journey.

You find yourselves standing at the Northern edge of Ardol, gear packed for your journey into the new world, eager to explore.

What do you do?

[User]
 Isha looks forward, away from the dwindling line of huts and fields. A dog barked in the distance, children ran and played, somewhere someone beat the edge of a stone into a blade, and for once, she listened. Listening to a farmer hammering his shovel into the earth, domesticated animals yapping and neighing, the steady hand of civilization that would not soon to be heard again.

Isha spent much time in the wilderness, alone, for periods of time, but always returned with her stock of game or herbs, but this time...She was not like to come back to Ardol, or at least, for a time.

The warriors, she knew barely, but had seen them on occasion. They were strong men, able to survive in the harsh wild lands, and Isha took no note of their passing. Amelia though...Amelia had never even been outside the village, as far as Isha knew, and when she heard word that the girl had meant to leave, old memories sprang back up. Perhaps it was time to return to the wilds that she had spent so long in alone.

[User]
 Hathsin sits quiet outside the village.

It had been interesting, living here. But the time had come to leave. Several others seemed to have felt that call as well.

Something different was in the air.

The world was waiting, arms open wide, grinning teeth on display.

New challenges to overcome. Hathsin felt ready to face them, alongside these others.

[User]
 A tall man walks toward you, his simple clothing covered in dirt. You recognize him as Cale, the unofficial leader of Ardol. He holds no actual authority, but everyone respects him so much he might as well be chief.

He looks at you all sternly, his stone grey eyes locked in a hardened gaze.  "I should tell you that I'd prefer it if all of ya' wouldn't go."  He says.  "We need good workers like all of ya', but I should know by now that my opinion won't be stoppin' ya'."  After a short time, he roughly tosses a burlap sack at you, filled with basic provisions. He turns away and begins to return to the fields without another word.

 Spoiler: LOOT
in the bag are:
 1 Week of trail rations for 4 people
2 50 foot lengths of rope
5 torches
2 tinderboxes
a hatchet
4 waterskins, filled
and 4 luck charms, crafted by the local shaman

[User]
 Durzun stands at the edge of the village, wiping one his swords with an oilcloth and wearing a fur cloak. He adjusted his hood slightly, heavily armed men weren't generally appreciated, and orcs even less so. He had studied what he could in Ardol, but the primitive metalworking showed him little he already knew. The farming he found more curious; the people here had developed methods to cultivate food without risking their lives hunting, a strategy he safely tucked into the back of his mind. His sword-arm hungered for battle, though, and his stomach for the meat of a beast he had killed himself.

As Cale tosses the bag he quickly sheathes his longsword and catches it deftly, examining the contents. He attempts to thank him, but he walks away too quickly for Durzon to consider a response. He plucks out one of the charms, quickly tying it around his neck, forming a small necklace. He tosses the bag to one of his companions and thrusts out his mailed hand in a crude handshake. He speaks well for an Orc, but still maintains a coarse accent; clearly having little experience with the common tongue.  "I am Durzon, son of Krilge and Morn; Hunter and Smith."

[User]
 Amelia's face shuffled as Cale mentioned the townsfolks not wanting them to leave.   If that were the case, my parents wouldn't have thrown me out.   She thought.

Startled out of her thoughts by the flying bag, she barely manages to catch it. Looking around the party, she actually didn't feel like a half giantess. The orc was taller then her, and so was the male human. She still towered over the female human.

 I am Amelia. Sorceress.  She mentioned in response to Durzon's reply.

[User]
 Isha looks at the figures towering about her, and unconsciously stands a little straighter.  "I'm called Isha. I can be a hunter, or a healer."

She reaches out and grasps Durzun's massive hand, wincing a bit at his vigorous grip.

[User]
 "Hathsin. Hunter. Survivor."

He stands up, looking down at the others.

 "Light is good. Go soon, yes?"

[User]
 "Yes, we must make good on the time we have."

Durzon moves to leave the village.

[User]
 As you leave the village, you hear a powerful, yet slightly distressed sound from outside the village.

  "LETOCLO VE!"

 Spoiler: To anyone who can speak Draconic...
"Help Me!". Sounds quite desperate too.

[User]
 Amelia looks back to the town.

 What was that?  She asked outloud.

[User]
 Isha scratches her head.

 "...we should probably go see what that is."

[User]
 "It is not every day you here a scream like that."

Durzon shifts his gait towards the source of the noise, his cloak waving behind him as he picks up the pace.

[User]
 You follow the source of the cry, dashing around trees as you make your way through the untamed forest. You soon arrive at a clearing, in which you can see a number of tall, somewhat brutishj looking reptilians attacking what appears to be a young dragon. The dragon is green in hue, with scales that reflect the light like green-tinted silver.

One of the attackers is covered in black scales and is at least 9 feet in height. It brandishes a huge club against the dragon. and wears crude hide clothing. Two others are about 6 1/2 feet tall, wearing leather armor and tearing away with their claws and teeth. A fourth lizardfolk stand behind the rest with a staff in hand, muttering some incantation.

 Spoiler: Dragon picture (big image)

Map will happen eventually

[User]
 Spoiler
In absence of an initiative order, I'll just go for it.

Hathsin gives the situation an appraising look.

  The dragon isn't a threat right now. The big black-scaled one must be the leader. So...

He charges straight at the club-bearing lizardfolk.

 "FIGHT ME, COWAAAAAAARD!"

 Spoiler: Rolls
Using Intimidate. Thanks to the Hero's Misfortune exellency, I can roll twice and take the better result when using Teramach clas skills.

1:  (1d20+3)[ 10 ]
2: (1d20+3)[ 19 ]

[User]
 "he's being attacked; we should help,"  Isha says quietly. She quickly drops her pack and draws her longbow, taking aim at the staff-wielding reptilian at the back.

 Spoiler
Initiative:  (1d20)[ 14 ]
Hit:  (1d20+8)[ 23 ]
Damage:  (1d8+2)[ 9 ]

[User]
 Spoiler: Everybody:
Roll initiative! Also, Durzun and Amelia can act in the surprise round.

The massive black lizard is shaken by Hathsin's fearsome challenge. It hesitates, leaving just enough of an opening to strike with impunity.

 Spoiler
You may make a single standard attack, and you provoke no attacks of opportunity from him in your approach.

Isha's arrow easily pierces the Reptilian's hide, causing it to recoil in pain, but it stands firm with fierce determination in its eyes.

[User]
 "I did not think I would be assisting a dragon today."

In a blink Durzun draws both his longswords, swiftly moving towards the tall lizardling, bringing one of his swords in high and the other low.

[Spoiler]
Using my Steel Avalanche Style to make two attacks as a standard action.
Hit 1: (1d20+8)[ 18 ]
Hit 2: (1d20+8)[ 9 ]
Damage 1: (1d8+10)[ 16 ]
Damage 2:[roll]1d8+7
Intiative: (1d20+4)[ 6 ]

[User]
 Stay safe, guys!  Amelia shouted out.

Moving quickly she casts a spell on Durzun before he moves.

 Spoiler

Casting Babau slime on Durzun.

She also speaks a single word and starts moving with superhuman speed.

 Spoiler

Using nerve skitter

Init  (1d20+13)[ 24 ]

[User]
 Upon reaching the thing, Hathsin simply slams his fists into it's stomach.

 Spoiler
Initiative:  (1d20+2)[ 20 ]

Attacking with dual-'weilded' fists:

Attack 1A- (1d20+5)[ 12 ]

On roll of 22 or more: Roll to confirm critical- (1d20+9)[ 27 ]

Damage on hit- (1d3+6)[ 7 ]

Extra damage on critical- (1d3+6)[ 8 ]

Attack 1B- (1d20+5)[ 6 ]

On roll of 22 or more: Roll to confirm critical- (1d20+9)[ 28 ]

Damage on hit- (1d3+6)[ 8 ]

Extra damage on critical- (1d3+6)[ 9 ]

[User]
 ROUND 1 BEGINS

Shimmering force surrounds Amelia as she finishes the incantation.

-----

Hathsin's fists slam into the Blackscale's stomach, but its thick hide prevents injury. It grins maliciously.

-----

Isha's arrow once again pierces the reptilian. Its eyes narrow.

-----

The massive Blackscale reacts to Hathsin's assault by wrapping its huge arms around him, locking him in a grapple.

 Spoiler
Make a grapple check!

-----

The one with the staff first gestures vigorously toward Isha, then slams its staff into the ground and begins chanting. Off to the left, you hear something crashing through the undergrowth.

-----

One of the club wielding lizardfolk charges Durzun, and the other continues to attack the young dragon.

The club hits Durzun, dealing 8 damage.

[User]
 Hathsin braces himself to wrestle his foe...

 Spoiler
Grapple Opposition check:  (1d20+7)[ 19 ]

[User]
 Round 1 Action, then :

Durzun swings at the beast who charged him twice, once with each blade.

 Spoiler
Attack 1:  (1d20+10)[ 28 ]
Attack 2:  (1d20+8)[ 18 ]
Damage 1: (1d8+10)[ 17 ]
Damage 2: (1d8+7)[ 8 ]

[User]
 Unfortunately, The creature's massive strength proves more than a match for Hathsin. It locks him firmly in its grip.

-----

Both of Durzun's attacks strike true and hard, dealing severe damage. I still seems to have some fight in its eyes, though.

[User]
 Isha turns away from the brawl, drawn to the sounds of the crocodile stomping through the bush. She quickly speaks a word and gestures at the beast.

 Spoiler
Casts Calm Animals (DC 14) on the angry crocodile.

[User]
 Amelia shoots at the creature Durzin struck.

 (1d20+3)[ 21 ]
 (1d8)[ 4 ]
 (1d20+3)[ 12 ]
 (1d8)[ 6 ]

[User]
 Hathsin glares at Blackscale.

 "No."

Taking a deep breath, he seems for a almost to grow...

 "I am STRONGER."

And begins to fight back.

 Spoiler
Swift action: Go into a rage with All-Consuming Rampage Release. The rage will last for 5 rounds.

Attack Blackscale (Cannot dual-weild while in a grapple):  (1d20+9)[ 22 ]

On result of 24 or higher, confirm critical:  (1d20+13)[ 31 ]

Damage on hit:  (1d4+9)[ 10 ]

Extra damage on critical confirm:  (1d4+9)[ 12 ]

[User]
 Amelia's first shot hits the beast, but the second glances off its hide. It doesn't appear to have much fight in it left, but what it does have is more than enough to continue. It hisses angrily.

-----

Hathsin's assailant is surprised by this sudden show of force. It bellows in pain as Hathsin's mighty arms crush it.

-----

The crocodile charging toward Isha slows, then halts, much to the shamanic lizard's fury. It shuffles off into the bushes.

-----

The blackscale bellows in anger, shouting in a brutish Common voice as it responds in kind.

 "You speak of strength while you have none!"

Hathsin takes 7 damage from the blackscale's claws.

-----

The Shamanic lizard completes its chanting, and you see magic power visibly emanate from its staff. Another burst of magic occurs next to Isha as a snarling wolf appears from nowhere. The wolf lashes out at Isha with a fierce bite, though the rash attack is easily dodged. Meanwhile, the Lizard casts another spell, causing a ball of flame to appear in its hand.

 "Now you burn!"  it says.

-----

The club wielding lizard attacks Durzun again, but its attack is weak and glances off Durzun's armor. It follows the attack with a bite, which was so inaccurate it missed completely.

The other club brandishing lizard is occupied with the dragon, who has begun fighting back.

-----

Everyone do their next turn!

[User]
 "You know nothing of battle. You fight with crude tactics and cruder weapons."

Durzun brings his left blade towards the creatures leg, trying to collapse him and follow up with a decapitation.

 (1d20+8)[ 26 ]
 (1d20+8)[ 26 ]
 (1d10+10)[ 19 ]
 (1d10+7)[ 11 ]

[User]
 Spoiler
Something I forgot to record: Hathsin's AC is up to 20 now. For future reference.

Hathsin ignores the lizard and keeps attacking.

 Spoiler
Attack:  (1d20+9)[ 27 ]

On result of 24 or higher, to confirm critical:  (1d20+13)[ 14 ]

Damage on hit:  (1d4+9)[ 12 ]

Extra damage on crit:  (1d4+9)[ 12 ]

[User]
 "how many are you going to-"  Isha sighs, then speaks another word at the wolf.

 Spoiler
Casts Calm Animals DC14 on the wolf.

[User] Amelia casts Babau slime on herself.

[User]
 Hathsin's continued assault is rewarded with the sound of ribs cracking under his strength. The Blackscale bellows in pain.

--------

The wolf, once vicious is calmed by Isha's spell. The shaman appears further angered.

--------

Durzun's blows hit with staggering force, accomplishing precisely as he had planned. The lizard's head falls to the ground with a heavy thud.

--------

The massive black lizard bears down on Hathsin, attempting to pin him to the ground.

 Spoiler: mechanics
make an opposed grapple check against 21

--------

The shaman thrusts its claws forward, and a small ball of flame leaps out at Isha.

Take 5 fire damage

--------

The dragon appears to have taken out the other of the warriors, leaving only the large one and the shaman.

[User]
 Hathsin grimaces at the tenacity of his foe, and works to hold an advantageous position.

 Spoiler: Opposed Grapple
 (1d20+13)[ 28 ]

[User]
 Isha draws another arrow and turns her attention back to the shaman.

 Spoiler
Hit:  (1d20+8)[ 28 ]
Dam:  (1d8+2)[ 7 ]

[User]
 Durzun flicks the excess gore of his blade and smiles, closing in on the Shaman. He thrusts both his longswords out, into the shaman's chest.

 Spoiler: OOC

Assuming he's close enough to move to the shaman(30ft), otherwise Durzun charges and adds +2 to the attack rolls. Activating Steel Avalanche Style to attack twice.
 (1d20+8)[ 25 ]
 (1d20+8)[ 23 ]
 (1d8+10)[ 17 ]
 (1d8+7)[ 8 ]

[User]
 Amelia takes a shot at the shaman.

 Spoiler

 (1d20+3)[ 14 ]
 (1d8)[ 4 ]
 (1d20+3)[ 15 ]
 (1d8)[ 2 ]

[User]
 The sudden, fierce assault on the shaman from Isha, Durzun and Amelia sends his scaled body to the ground in a bloodied heap. He gurgles incomprehensibly as blood fills his ruptured lungs.

The massive black one finally looks around him and sees all his fellow warriors dead or dying. He shouts a few venomous words in Draconic before attempting to flee. He barely manages to escape Hathsin's grip, and makes a run for it, though not before Hathsin throws a punch at him.

 Spoiler: mechanics
Hathsin gets an attack of opportunity on the lizard.

[User]
 Spoiler: Hitting that coward
Main Hand:
 (1d20+7)[ 14 ]
On result of 22 or higher, roll to confirm critical:
 (1d20+11)[ 21 ]

Damage:
 (1d4+9)[ 12 ]
Extra damage on crit:
 (1d4+9)[ 10 ]

Off Hand:
 (1d20+7)[ 22 ]
On result of 22 or higher, roll to confirm critical:
 (1d20+11)[ 22 ]

Damage:
 (1d4+9)[ 10 ]
Extra damage on crit:
 (1d4+9)[ 13 ]

Added note: This is round 4/5 of the rage, if I am reading when each round ends correctly. Possibly 3/5. Either way, I have to keep up the fight until it runs out. Hathsin will try to chase down Blackscale if he stills lives.

[User]
 While Hathsin's first attack fails, his second punch hits the fleeing lizard right in the back with crushing force. An audible  crunch  is heard, followed by a bloodied gasp. The Blackscale stands defiantly as it dies, only falling to the ground when its lifeless legs give out. Before it dies, it wheezes a few choice words.

 "Valxx will...take your heads...Maggots..."

[User]
 "Well. Valxx doesn't seem like a nice person."  Isha rummages through the dead to see if they are carrying anything of use.

 Spoiler: Loot!
Search:  (1d20+1)[ 11 ]

[User]
 Hathsin takes a deep breath, relaxing as his anger fades.

 "Mmm. Valxx will have to try harder, then. Whoever that is."

[User]
 Amelia pulled out a bandage and bit of cloth.

 Is everyone alright?  She asks the group.

[User]
 Durzun grunts, feeling his broken rib.  "Fiercer blows have been dealt to me by better warriors. I will survive."

Durzun walks to Hatshin, removing a dagger from his belt and presenting the handle.  "Never seen one like this. A cloak of scales make a fine trophy."

[User]
 "I am fine. Will only need a little rest."

Hathsin takes the knife from Durzun.

 "Yes. Good trophy."

 Spoiler
Hathsin will skin it, and try to make a crude cloak out of it. Crude, because he has no Craft skills. I'll probably pick some up.

[User]
 The young dragon approaches you cautiously. It has clearly been through a lot. It is limping slightly, with signs of more than a few harsh blows evident by the cracked scales on its body. A large bleeding wound over its left eye forces it to close one eye as it addresses you.

 "My thanks, travelers. Had you not arrived, I expect I would likely be dead! Are any of you injured?"

Hathsin successfully skins the Lizard after some effort. The hide is quite tough.

[User]
 "Not any worse than you are, I'd say."  Isha steps forward speaking a word, and touches the dragon's face.  "Could you tell us what they were attacking you for?"

 Spoiler
Convert Resurgence to Cure Light Wounds and cast it on the dragon, healing for  (1d8+3)[ 4 ] .

[User] The dragon flinches as its broken body heals.  "Can't say I know for sure. I suspect they saw me conducting my research, and thought my hide might make a good mantelpiece!"

[User]
 "Sport, maybe. Didn't seem concerned when we joined in."

Hathsin shrugs, obviously not caring about the details. He throws the blackscale hide across his shoulders as a rough mantle, and returns Durzun's knife.

[User] Durzun takes his knife and nods at Hatshin.  "Conflict is a necessity of survival. Without it we would wither. Today we simply showed them strength."

[User] "So, what is that you were doing here? Researching?"

[User] What are you researching?  Amelia asked curious

[User] The Dragon smiles broadly at Amelia's question.  "Ah, it is truly fascinating. Of course, most things are these days, but I find the intricacies of this particular subject to be far more interesting than anything I have come across since the Dawning. The arcane matrix surrounding her is simply-oh, right. I suppose I ought to actually answer your question. My apologies, I have a tendency of becoming somewhat...verbose when it comes to my work."  He pauses for a moment, then begins again.  "Some time after the dawning, I caught wind of a certain human who is having a profound effect on...everything! I've only had a few opportunities to observe her directly, but I've found that she is a wellspring of power. All creatures exude some magic energy, and the more powerful it is, the more energy it gives off. However, the amount of energy this person is giving off is impossible to accurately describe. Lately, I've been trying to track her down, but in recent days I haven't had much luck. Incidentally, I believe she goes by...Gonthoras."

[User]
 Originally Posted by Erberor
 The Dragon smiles broadly at Amelia's question.  "Ah, it is truly fascinating. Of course, most things are these days, but I find the intricacies of this particular subject to be far more interesting than anything I have come across since the Dawning. The arcane matrix surrounding her is simply-oh, right. I suppose I ought to actually answer your question. My apologies, I have a tendency of becoming somewhat...verbose when it comes to my work."  He pauses for a moment, then begins again.  "Some time after the dawning, I caught wind of a certain human who is having a profound effect on...everything! I've only had a few opportunities to observe her directly, but I've found that she is a wellspring of power. All creatures exude some magic energy, and the more powerful it is, the more energy it gives off. However, the amount of energy this person is giving off is impossible to accurately describe. Lately, I've been trying to track her down, but in recent days I haven't had much luck. Incidentally, I believe she goes by...Gonthoras."

 Do you have any clues where she might be?  Amelia questioned.

[User]
 "as I said, I'm afraid that my recent efforts have failed to shed any light on her exact location, though a few less the reputable sources tell me that she has been journeying to the East. Of course, others have told my West, North, and even that she is gone completely. For the moment I've been following breadcrumb trails of energy, but, alas, no luck there."  The Dragon reaches above its ear and pries off a loose scale.  However, you all have saved my life, and thus I am indebted to you. As Draconic law dictates, I am to give you a gift."

He then breathes a gout of green flame on the scale. The scale turns white, radiating light intensely for nearly a minute after the flames cease. Once the scale has cooled, the dragon hands it to one of you. The scale is bright green, faintly glowing with power. Several runes are engraved upon its surface, along a word written in Draconic.

 "That scale shows that I, and thus my entire society, owe you a debt. Speak the word written on the scale, and one of my kind will come to your aid. Before I leave, please allow me to learn your names. Mine is Kalahdor"

[User] Mine is Amelia.  She replied extending a hand.

[User] "Isha."  says the so-called Isha. She briefly raises an eyebrow and Amelia, expecting her to take the scale.

[User] "Hathsin."