[User]
 This story takes place in the far off lands of Elsir Vale. Plains encompass most of the Vale, separated with sections of forests and flanked by mountains on all sides. It is summer in the Vale.
Andus, cleric of Equinox, and Darvin, fighter of freedom, make their way east down a long, well traveled road. Their destination is a town called Drellin’s Ferry. Their mission is of peculiar origin. One night, as they slept at an inn, Adus was struck with a vision. In it he floated above a castle under seiged, by a horde of incredible size. The once proud lion flags lay toppled and burning. As the light of the defender’s faded, the horde came together and formed the shape of a large red clawed hand. Adus awoke with a start, panting and sweating. A word… no… two words that he never heard before uttered from his lips “Drellin’s Ferry”. After waking his companion from his slumber and informing him of his vision, Darvin was more than willing to help in any way. Within the week, they had all the information they needed and they went off.
The afternoon sun beats down on them; the air is hot and humid. The sparsely settled lands of Elsir Vale are starting to grow monotonous, with a seemingly endless line of dusty flyspecks of towns. The town of Drellin’s Ferry lies a few miles ahead of you. It’s a settlement hard on the borders of the Witchwood’ and the best place from which to begin exploring the nearby forest.

[User] "Equinox must have wanted us here for a reason. Let's go see what's going on in town." I'll start walking down the road toward Drellin's Ferry

[User]
 Darvin gives a grunt of agreement and wipes a hand over a very sweaty brow and flicks it away. “I can’t wait to have a pint,” he grumbles.
The road crests a small rise and descends into a dusty grove in a large, shallow dell. An abandoned farmhouse, partially visible through the trees, stands on one side of the road. You've passed a dozen spots much like this one already today, but this one feels wrong.
Both of you stop as you notice that a lint of mail through the brush by the side of the road. Fierce warriors- tall, hairy humanoids that you recognize as hobgoblins- are lying in wait.

((Roll for initiative please. The battle board is setup as follows : Bushes @ C6, C8,C10, H6, H8, H10. Hobs @ B6, B8, B10, I6, I8, and I10. The road goes from Columns D-G. Our characters are placed on E1(you) and F1(me). The farmhouse is located off the board towards the bottom left.))

[User] Initiative 17

[User]
 Seeing a chance to think about something other than this heat, Darvin quickly draws his weapon and mutters something. His shield flies to his free hand and he bellows a challenge as charges towards the nearest hob (moving from F1 toI5). He swing his blade outwards, cutting through the hob with ease.

((Your up))

[User]
 I move to E7. Calling upon the power of Equinox over nature, I cast Entangle. Everyone but myself currently in battle must pass a reflex save dc 19 I think or be entangled. If they pass they can still only move at half speed during this round. All the plants in the area will keep trying this every round for the next five minutes.

"Equinox be praised."

[User]
 The hobs to your left give out a screech as vines wrap around their feet. Using their cover to their advantage, they fire a hail of crossbow bolts. You don't even duck as the bolts fly widely past you. One of the hobs to your right also sends a widely missing bolt your way. The last hob, looses a bolt at Darvin and despite basically shooting point blank misses horribly.

Darvin utters a curse as he kicks the vines away. "Not helping," he shouts and he kicks his way to the hob in front of him ((I5 to I&)) and cuts him in two.

((Your up again))

[User] "Of course it's helping, I'm binding them all at once using the surrounding bushes, which flourish in her name." I'll move in towards the nearest living hob (to c7) and swing my icy sickle at him (at b6) attack roll 18, damage 3 slashing 4 cold.

[User]
 The hob in front of you is still standing, though not for much longer. The hob above you fires another bolt at you which sticks into the bush next to you. The hob next to you drop his crossbow in exchange for his Long sword, however his attack fails to penetrate your armor.  The hob below you takes a 5ft south (to B11) and fires causing it to graze shoulder ( 2 Damage). On Darvin’s side of the field the hob 5ft. steps (to H11),  yells something in goblin, and fires a bolt which chinks harmlessly against Darvin’s armor.
“He’s calling for backup,” Darvin relays as charges (to H 10) through the grasping vines which grab hold of his target. He swings his sword in a gaping arc and separates the hob’s head from its body.

[User] I'll slice through the hobgoblin's neck with my icy sickle, attack 15 5 slashing 4 cold

[User]
 You hear a satisfying sound as your scythe makes a clean cut through the hob's neck. The hob at B8 makes another swing at you, hitting your side, but not getting through your armor. The hob below you switches his aim to Darvin and looses a bolt. The bolt flies harmlessly by. You hear a howl followed by two large canine creatures. They look over at you and then at Darvin, choosing the person who was by himself. They flank Darvin (H9 and H11), burning the vines as they run, and go all out on him. You hear some sizzling as they attack.

Darvin gives a roar of laughter. "What cute lil' doggies," he bellows. He plunges his sword into the hound in front of him(H11). The hound gives a cry of pain, before it is snuffed out by a blow of Darvin's spiked shield.

A figure rounds the corner of the barn and for a moment looks a bit confused. It is another hobgolin, though this one is better dressed and wears upon his armor a red hand print. He equips his weapon and moves closer to the battle (one square off the board and will be joining in next round)

[User]
 I'm going to cast Sanctuary upon myself, then move as close to the newcomer as I can.

I'd like to attempt to identify the red hand symbol. What roll do I need?

[User]
 As you cast your spell, the hob at B8 takes a swing at you, but you get your spell up in time to avoid damage. You move out of his arc and move down to D12. From you observation, you discern that it is a symbol of Tiamat.

The hob that was at B8 moves to D11 and attacks you from behind, however he fails to make it past your spell. The hob at B10 drops his crossbow and draws his sword moving to C12.

Darvin turns his attention to the hound behind him and makes a spinning motion, causing a deep gash with his sword and then impaling it on his spiked shield. "Andus lookout!" he yells, realizing the situation his companion was in.

From you can tell as the hob leader, moves to E12. He reaches out and touches your armor. Your cringe as you feel searing pain course throughout your body (take 11 damage).

Your up and before you begin your turn, you can make an attack of op on the leader.


[User]
 The fortress of Rotten Tooth rises out of Khalas, the first furnace of Gehenna, as a squat stone cube. Deep within the stone structure is one of the Anchors of Order, ancient pieces of Mechanus imported to Gehenna when the planes were still young to serve as a warding against the tanar'ri. Many of the Anchors were twisted by the Turning, rendered chaotic and useless, but that housed in the Rotten Tooth had remained, untwisted, unbroken, still immaculate. The Anchor kept the worst of the tanar'ri at bay; the greater their force of chaos the greater the resistance it presented to them. A mane or dretch might approach the fortress itself, and the passes it overlooked, but a true tanar'ri could only rarely even teleport past it.

In its great halls the fortress housed 30,000 lemure, and their commanders all the way up to the horned devil that commanded them. Before the turning the fortress would have been commanded by a pit fiend at least, and with its newly increased strategic importance would have been commanded by one whose puissance was noted by the lord of Nessus. Now, though, there was civil war in Hell itself and support for the Blood War was less than it normally would be, and a cornugon did the job of his better. In addition to the fiends, Rotten Tooth housed three contingencies of 10,000 mortal soldiers.

The commander of one of these contingencies, Baron MacStrayg, walks the outer wall of the cube, his warbat Tryg crawling across the stone behind him. MacStrayg, a vampire who sold himself to Baator for a thousand years to escape the wrath of mortal hunters, scowled out across the surface of the hellscape. Suddenly a blaring sounded across the fortress; an alarm warning all within that the Tanar'ri had breached Gehenna somewhere on the Plane. The mortals hated that sound; all ours of "day" and "night" the Tanar'ri made some little excursion, and the alarm sounded. It played a long tune this time; 10 seconds, 20 seconds and counting... a large host even by the standards of the tanar'ric hosts of late.

From below an arcanaloth comes running; one of the 12 that watch the Early Warning Device and work their divinations to determine where the tanar'ric attack is. Such a job should never be trusted to the mercenary yugoloths. In the distance you can see the horizon moving, a living tide marching forward, as the arcanoloth screams in Infernal, "They attack the Tooth! They attack the Tooth!" The sky turns red, gold lightning flashing in front of the army as some being of Chaos tries to push through the shield of Order. The alarm is drowned out by the sound of thunder, like the sky being rent asunder, as the tanar'ri host in the distance continues to press forward.

Horns blare, a call to battle, but the fortress is horribly outnumbered; at least a hundred thousand tanar'ri are coming from the sound of the alarm. Even so as long as the anchor holds they will be hopelessly out powered; the tanar'ri never seem to learn, numbers alone are insufficient. The call to battle stations is sounded.

With the sky a dull grey, and rivers red with sediment issuing forth from around the citadel, the time for battle has come. A glance at the horizon shows that the tanar'ri forces are still about 10 miles away, but pressing against the field of Order generated by the Anchor. A true tanar'ri must be pressing against it, most likely more than one, if they wear themselves out against the field all the better. If they manage to break it, though, the Tooth may be doomed. In that case it is your responsibility to remove the Anchor from its amplifier, and pass through the Dark Gate beneath the fortress.

[User]
 Craabezon floats above the ground, and the occasional Lemure or other, trying not to crush anyone as she moves, her large spectral arm out front, not so much to shove others but to remind people of her higher than normal status, and the fact it really hurts to get touched by it and armor didn't help.
Some may notice she's humming some sort of tune.

[User] Sabrina sighs as she hears the horn of battle sounding once again. Others, more martial than her, would be responsible for taking the demons to task for this attack. All she knew was that her usual routine of tempting mortals to spawn more and more lemures would have to be put on hold until this threat was dealt with. And of course, her responsibility with the Anchor. Her wings spread as she went aloft as she could within the halls of the Tooth, heading to her station to watch and be ready to move.

[User] Drawing her greatsword, Jesephax begins to saunter forward, her armored form clunking with each step she took. It wasn't often enough that she could battle her own kin, but when the opportunity came she relished it. The thrill of stabbing her sword through a hulking Demons frame and showering herself in the blood. She licked her lips at the thought of it. Her wings began to spread as she steadily rose off of the ground, moving towards the vanguard to defend the Anchor.


[User]
 Armies: The Legion of King James IV vs. Ranged Corps, 2nd Division
Points: 100
Battlefield: Covered with rocks, cave at far end


[User]
 It has taken about a month for the Elan to complete your ship. It is made of oak, so that it blends in with Scoundrelian society, but some aspects of its design (fabric of the masts, lesser design traits, and so forth) hint at its origin. After the boat is christened (I'll leave you guys to giving it a name), you three are immediately teleported back to Teardrop Cove.

After settling back in for a few days you are visited by Wallrunner in your favorite porterhouse. As he bows to say hello, it looks like his bulging eyes might just fall out.

 "Greetings, Kara, Hagar, and..."  He glares at Robert,  "It. Do you mind if I sit down? I have something to discuss with you."

[User] "By all means sire. And I perfer  Wacha-Makalik ".

[User] "You seem to have something important to say."

[User]
 Speak! or I'll punch you.

Give me a nickel and I'll punch Robert.

[User]
 Wallrunner starts a little at the brunt threat Hagar made, but the barbarian's comment about punching Robert makes him chuckle.  "That you can do for free."  He then pulls a chair out and takes a seat.

When the barmaid walks by and asks if he wants anything, he only asks for the house steak and insists on not having any port. As the wench leaves, he continues.  "An entire season and yet I still can't drink alcohol, for fear of it tasting like whale oil. Anyway, on to the reason I'm here."  The chair creaks as Wallrunner leans back into it.

 "Long story short, a major cluster of islands toward the south have been captured by an organization of people calling themselves the Shaloor. As a result, my friend and captain, Amanu, might be unable to complete a very important delivery of high-quality jade.

That's where you three come in, Amanu has recently obtained a map to an islet with a tomb hidden within it. He has reason to suspect that there is a large quantity of jade buried there, and he would like for you to recover it."

[User] Robert puts on his money interested/business/least ridiculous face and says,  "What do we get in return for this?"

[User] "I doubt that all of the wealth will be in jade, and some of the jade will likely be ground into powder over the years and worthless to our client's purposes. So you can keep any regular treasure and any pieces of jade smaller than a marble that you find."

[User] I don't care as long as we get some decent fights this time.

[User] "What kind of danger is involved?"

[User]
 Wallrunner purses his lips as he contemplates how to say this next statement.

 "The tomb is located in an archipelago that was ravaged by a necromancer some time ago. Most of the islands have been purged of the vile magic that radiated from them, but I wouldn't be surprised if there are some... restless spirits still lurking the area."

As he finishes his statement, the barmaid comes back and gives him his steak. After thanking the lady, he grabs his fork and knife and starts to cut the meat up. Just before taking the first bite though, he pauses and puts the morsel down.

 "Perhaps I'll eat this when the idea of undead and rotting flesh AREN'T fresh in my mind."  He says with a weak laugh.

[User] How do we get started?

[User]
 "Well, as soon as I finish my steak, I'll take you to Amanu's house, he has the map there."

As the first mate had said, the moment he payed and finished his steak, he takes you to Amanu's house. The building is in the more inland area of the city, but most of the swamp water has been pumped out, leaving behind a lush green yard. After opening the door to the house, Wallrunner takes you to a room below the staircase in the main hall. The walls of this room are covered with see charts and other map with what Kara recognizes as Makuni written on them, and Amanu is sitting at his desk, studying one of these maps. All of the windows are open and an  aeolian harp  is placed next to each, filling the room with their music.
There is also a large fish tank to the right side of the room that is rimmed with jade and has the shape of numerous different kinds of fish carved into it. At the center of this fish tank is what appears to be an Aquan egg that is darker in color than the normal Aquan egg.

Amanu looks up from his work when he hears Wallrunner close the door,  "Ah good! You've accepted my offer. Well, this is the island you'll heading to."  He says with his thick vanaran accent, he then gestures to an oval shaped island on the map on his desk.  "It should not be more than two day away."

[User] "I have a quick question. Why do you have an Aquan egg in there?"

[User]
 Amanu's head snaps up at Robert's question, his flushed skin contrasting with his blue fur.

 "That's... My son."  He says, avoiding eye contact,  "Lilith was evidently taking advantage of me in more than one way."

[User] Um...Well, at least you got custody...

[User]
 "Well, she actually ran away when I discovered her scheming..."  There is a long silence as Amanu tries to return to the main subject.

 "Anyway, when I first noticed your new ship, I couldn't help but notice that you don't have a sufficient crew. I'd be willing to send some of my crew members along with you on this journey, unless you've already hired some people to serve as your permanent crew.

[User] We haven't hired anyone.  All the crew we could find liked me but were scared of Robert.

[User]
 The crew would be appreciated. I think we're in agreement to get started. Ready?

 Originally Posted by jazxom
 We haven't hired anyone.  All the crew we could find liked me but were scared of Robert.

[User]
 "We are!"  says Amanu as he gives Kara a firm hand shake.

It is at least a day before the necessary crew and provisions are organized onto the ship and not until dawn that the your ship finally sails out. And...

  DM Roll of sneakiness and foreshadowing    (1d20)[ 17 ]

The Lord is indeed in you favor! The day is bright and clear, the winds are barreling you in the direction of the Dead Isle, and the crew is gleefully going to their work.

It is an hour past noon, and you are all finding your own ways to whittle away the time, Hagar is sharpening his prized greataxe, Kara is swimming beside Dolly, and Robert is enjoying a crew that also enjoys his taste in pirate tunes. As you are in the water, Kara, you've found that there has been an increasing amount of driftwood floating by, starting with only a few splinters now and then and steadily getting larger until you see planks the length of your arms! You're suspicious, but continue swimming. That is to say until Dolly calls to you, for as you turn you realize that she's come across a miniature globe floating in the waters.

Meanwhile, the crew-member in the crow's nest cries out  "Man overboard!"

[User] Robbert stops singing and shouts to the man in the crow's nest,  "WHERE DID HE FALL!"  However, he then thinks to himself,   "If he is in the Crow's nest, maybe he can't understand common."   He then shouts,  "CAW, CAW,CA-CA CAW!"

[User] I grab the small globe and send Dolly to retrieve the man that is overboard.

[User]
 The man in the crow's nest hollers back down,  "Starboard! And he didn't fall of the ship... At least not our ship!"  He pauses as he translates what Robert said in crow.  "She was NOT!"

It is difficult for Dolly to find the man, as he looks a lot like the driftwood to her echo-location, but she finds him nonetheless. When brought aboard the ship, the globe is soggy, tinted by the saltwater, and falling apart... And the unconscious man is the same. He is different from the globe, however, as he is covered by numerous large lacerations and bite marks.

[User] Medic! This man needs a doctor, quick!

[User] The members of the crew simply look at each other in a confused fashion, no one seems to want to mention the obvious until one of the larger, more burly types steps forward.  "Ummm... Ok... Uh, Kara, there's an injured man on da poop-deck. He needs medical attention real soon."  says the sea-dog in a disoriented, dispassionate voice.

[User]
 Kara momentarily looks at him with a blank expression and then mutters to herself " oh yeah, I'm a druid" 😳

Heal check  (1d20+8)[ 26 ]

[User]
 Kara quickly bandages and splints the torn body of the man. She also notes a large amount of bruising on the back of the man's head and makes sure that there is plenty of straw to serve as a pillow.

There is, however, something that frightens her. The castaway's nose is pale and he has SEVERE halitosis (as though there were something rotten in his mouth), both early signs of a rare disease known as Stygian Waste. The disease is fortunately, easily dealt with this early in the incubation period and won't risk contaminating any of the crew.

 Spoiler
Make a knowledge(Arcana) check

[User]
 I wonder how he got this...

Knowledge Arcane check  (1d20+4)[ 10 ]

[User] You recall many tales told by salty old sailors and you recall many treatises by salt-fearing doctors about this disease's origins, all of these inform you that there is only one way to retract this affliction. Its breeding ground is in an ancient variety of sea monster. You do not recall its name, but you remember that its greatest pleasure and purpose in life is to poison all water that it touches and to torment those who cross its path.

[User] Uh Oh, we might need to be on the look out for a sea monstor

[User] "SEA MONSTERS! I hate sea monsters! They're so Green, and Toothy, and Mean, and Scary, and, and, and,"  he looks at Hagar,  "AHHHHH! A SEA MONSTER!"  He then readies himself for a battle with a sea monster.


[User] I have indeed come in peace, but I have come because I had heard you were in more ill circumstances and I wished my actions to be well prepared.

[User]
 A great evil has been unleashed upon the realm it seems. It was not content to just eat me and end it there, instead it wishes tribute from the realm, if not it has stated it will destroy us all, as seen from some of the acts of devastation and glimpses of itself it has shown.

I know that while we have some wyrms bothering the kingdom, this is one that will not rest until all of us are under its yolk, ,or dead, it is a hungry merciless thing.

[User] So then is it a greater dragon?  An angrier dragon?  Or something else entirely?


[User]
 Floating bearing, in the harsh environment use sealing bearing ring and extend the service life of bearing seal cover can prevent invasion of sewage because of meaning. Roll in roller mill usually irregular four child bearing seal ray fall to the ground. When using that the impact of the strong men, water and debris intrusion.
Japan NSK company development at the beginning of the sealing roller clean easily. Wood this bearing is cruel lubrication bearing foundation condition, improved the accident quantity 34%, the life of the high reliability, easy to remain the same. This performance optimization is to improve mechanical design patent technology, new materials and sealing results. Compared to traditional wooden roller bearing, the sealing roller bearing wood basic rated men, not only 2 34% live longer. Seven times. Roller clean seal bearing capacity of wood properties like at the beginning of the second element, adopt NSK company manufacture super - tf bearing strength. Solve the material or lubrication bearing life under the condition of inadequate pollution problem. Experience, under the condition of pollution start splinters of bearing is pollution. NSK company based pollution or edge of the lubrication conditions, whether through the bearing life improvement of bearing steel microstructure. New sealed structure is given priority to seal and seal. Ball of negative pressure water is in airtight princess intrusion, the seal negative pressure a lot of things. Accordingly, reduce the negative in the bearing to prevent water pressure into the basic. Is the most effective method of sealing ball inherent skills airtight direct contact with the water retention, water is sewage and prevent the wood on the side. Airtight way instead of contact wire surface in contact, whether to stop all operation process, the ball surface contact sealing good sealing characteristics. Therefore, a new second capacity than the bearing roller clean seal with the traditional wood sealing roller bearing general credibility. Lower bearing adjustment orbit sound
In addition SKF Italy airtight company (recently developed) sealing the next generation of oil and local mud block. He optimal design of closed structure to prevent the invasion of mud indeed. Outside the traditional sealing structure is radial lip and seal diameter and left circle between tension and fixed sealing prince circles. New structure is the bushing sealing and into a ring sealing ring plate, from the appearance and bushing inside diameter, my lips with a waterproof encouraging local, observe the product. According to the operation requirements and application conditions of mud block can be used all kinds of elastic material. In this material, acrylic acrylic congregate, star rubber fluoride etc.


[User]
 The Maid: The Final Frontier
 IC Thread
 OOC Thread

The Mistress has been gone for a while. Months, you think, though it can be easy to loose track of time in the giant metal satellite you call home - just because you've seen the sun rise, set then rise again doesn't necessarily mean 24 hours has passed.

I has been rather quiet without her and, with no one to take care of, the station has become rather dirty. Well,  filthy , if we're being honest. Which is why it comes as a huge shock when one morning, lounging around shared living area (decorated mostly in chrome objects) the stern face of your mistress springs to life on the gigantic television screen that dominates most of the far wall

She barks out    Atten tion!   in the sort of textbook military style that marks most of her movements.

[User]
 Seri had trouble preventing herself from falling victim to boredom without the Mistress around to keeping things exciting, so she was actually relieved after the screen turned on. Well, first her ears hurt, but then she was relieved. She knew Mistress was strict, but Seri wouldn't want her any other way.

 "Yes, ma'm?"  She stood at attention the best she could so quickly that it was as if she were created to-

Oh, right.

[User]
 Tamari had been a bit sour that her Target, the mistress, had left them all behind. She so wanted to end the 'Mistress' quickly but by now she's been in her service for more than She would like to admit and remember. Tamari had been surprised when she was accepted in as a Security Officer, which basicly meant giving the assassin access to the armory.

As her mistress' voice came up on the Big Screen, she leaped to attention, adding in the 'boot-heel against boot-heel' acknowledgement, military style.

Oh how Tamari Missed her laidback life back on Galoran V, being the princess of the planet and all...

[User]
 Kirski was busy organizing materials in sickbay when the intercom went out.
Sighing, she reports to the Mistress.

 Hey cousin, what's up?

Then corrects herself:

 Yes Ma'am  Medical Officer Kirski Amanae reporting as ordered, Ma'am!

*Snapping to her best imitation of attention.*

[User]
 I'm calling to inform you,  ladies   (you get the feeling she would have called you "ladies" even if you were not ladies)  That I'll be returning to the Space Station for a brief vacation beginning in a week. I expect that station to be spick and span. On the first night I'm back, we'll be having a small party. Prepare food and entertainment. That is all.
The screen cuts to black.

[User]
 Selena sits up, coming into view from behind the large couch in the middle of the room. Apparently she had been asleep back there and hidden from the main screen as the Mistress was giving directions. She looks around at the others who happen to be in the room with a languid expression and a perfectly deadpan tone in her voice.

 "Yo. What's going on?"

[User] "A party to celebrate the mistress' return? This is a great idea~! I wonder what sort of food she would prefer..."  Seri was hopped up with her mind happily going through all sorts of catering plans.  "Even if it's a small party, we've got so much to do!"  However, it seemed the cooking was the main thing on her mind, despite the awful filth about that had yet to be cleaned.


[User]
 Again give major kudos

 Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  Again give major kudos  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  to the writing  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  staff for making the past  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  come back to affect  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  the present in  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  a very meaningful  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  and impactful way.  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  On most shows, the  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  issue with Tig not  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  having to answer for  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  murdering Damon Pope's daughter would  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  have been over and  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  done with but  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  not on Sons of  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  Anarchy. In this show  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  everything comes back. I  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  also think that the  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  writers have down a  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  great job of showing  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  the violent and psychopathic  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  tendencies of Lee Toric  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  by having him continually  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  invent new ways  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  to torture and kill  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  people. Personally I will  Cotto vs Rodriguez Live Stream  not be able to open a beer bottle for quite some time without having images.


[User]
 Ganaliel Crade wiped sweat from the corner of his eyepatch, then looked up and considered the wide plains stretching to the horizon. His good eye narrowed as he caught sight of a thin plume of smoke rising from the direction of Kalad Steading. He swore, and gestured to draw his companion's attention to the sign in the sky. It seemed as if the Mask of Winters might have caught up to their quarry before they could find him. He goaded his mount into a canter, leaving his companion to catch up.

 Spoiler

Nori, you're the companion. What do you and Ganaliel Crade find when you get to Kalad Steading? Aure, you're the quarry. Are you still there or have you moved on?

-----------------------------

The Sleeping Dragon noticed that his visitor was still there, waiting in the clearing. A Dragonblooded this time, from Lookshy based on the quality of her equipment. Not much of a surprise there given the rise of the undead in Thorns. Now that was an interesting chestnut...the dead did not fight in the same manner as the living, but he could sense some underlying similarities. Yes, a few strategies were coming together in his mind as he considered the situation. Well, perhaps his guest had waited long enough...

 Spoiler

Banshee, you've been sent by Ganaliel Crade to recruit the Sleeping Dragon to aid in the conflict with the Mask. Failing that, at least get his analysis.

[User] After the third day, Sleeping Dragon emerges from his hut, perfectly groomed and dressed and holding a rather ornate fan made of exotic feathers.  He fans himself lightly as the shadows of the trees fall on his face.  His speech is rapid and directed an no-one in particular.  You get the sense that he is thinking out loud...very quickly.  "Persistent.  Student?  No.  Lack of effects indicates short stay.  Likely agent looking for aid against undead army.  Seventh Legion, by appearances.  Mortal?  No.  Jade weapon.  Not given even to enlightened mortals without immediate purpose.  Anathema not tolerated.  Dragon-blooded, no doubt.  Air aspect, unimpressive breeding, given features.  Situation must be more dire than estimated to divert dragon-blooded from front lines."  At this point, he catches himself and begins directing his speech towards the person.  "Oh, sorry.  Living alone has left me prone to thinking out loud.  I'm not sure if I can come back with you.  Small disturbance.  Big effect.  Ripples in the pond and all that.  Coming back down with just anybody could upset the political balance of the whole region if...whoever sent you has an agenda aside from this army, but by the end of our conversation, I'm sure I'll know who should fetch me back down to civilization.  I've just finished making tea and some stew.  Please.  Come in and sit down.  You must be hungry."  With that, he retreats back into the house and sits at a small table.  He pulls the tea kettle and the stew pot off the fire and then just sits there, waiting for...something.

[User]
 --Kalad Steading, Near The Outskirts--

A strangely artful smear of blood on a stone wall led, like a trail of proverbial bread crumbs, to a lone man leaning against a building. The source of the crimson sign was a furtively spurting brachial artery in the man's arm, dumping its bright red payload out of a particularly nasty puncture he had endured from a crossbow quarrel. To make matters worse, he had only moments ago yanked the bolt out, fearing poison. Now, to quell the little fountain, he was pressing his whole shoulder hard against the wall, hoping the pressure would slow the vicious blood loss. It did not.

After a few moments, the man finally looked back, seeing the grisly signs of his passage, and he groaned audibly. "That should be inside me." he said, as though he could convince the stuff to return. His protests fell on deaf ears, for the blood remained right where it was, smug and rebellious. With a low cough he left the wall, staggering gradually down the street toward the edge of the town.

His resources of energy, granted to him by his heritage as a Dragon-Blooded, were slim at best. He had been intercepted at the worst possible time; when the pursuers found him, he had already been sinking his daily energies into other magics. The attackers had slain the Elementals in his service, buried a fat quarrel in his arm and put one more across his abdomen, leaving a wide gash that even now continued to stain the inside of his already ragged clothing. At least one of the bolts had been envenomed with a toxin from some an animal or being from the underworld, and the addition of the blood loss was making him woozy and delirious. If he tried to shape his way out of danger now, he'd surely fail or fall and be captured or killed...

So he continued to walk, needing his head to clear and only getting muggier as the seconds passed...

 Spoiler
I'm starting play with some Bashing and Lethal health levels checked, and with an unspecified fatiguing Underworld poison working its way into my system. I'm in rough shape, with no allies or mounts nearby. I'll leave other details about the state of the town and the nature of my pursuers to the next poster. I plan on writing this character with a decent amout of physical resistance and health levels, so if I end up shot a few more times, I'll survive.

[User] A whorl of darkness coalesced at the other end of the alley, and a massive fur-clad figure took form next to the wall. The war ghost ran his fingers over the blood on the wall, then brought his hand to his mouth to lick the viscous fluid clean. Grinning as the blood touched his tongue, he readied his axe and faced the wounded man.

[User]
 --Kalad Steading, Near The Outskirts--

The Wood Aspect sneered strangely at the fur-garbed dead one. Had the pursuit party used a poison that they could safely consume? Or did this blood-suckling undead solder just swallow some unthinkingly? Granted, the war ghost had only drank the stuff, while  he  had taken a full slug of it directly into his stomach through a shredded gut-wound. Truthfully, the sorcerer wasn't too worried; the fiend had drawn an axe, rather than a bow or sling, which meant his escape spell...

"You go ahead and enjoy the rest of that." he suggested in Low Realm, before speaking a word that humans could not speak. In a brief burst of energy, the laws of reality demanded that the man be transformed into something that  could  speak the word; a flock of birds. Were the war ghost a birdwatcher, it would know the fluttering things were meadowlarks. More than a few of them were visibly wounded, and several wobbled dangerously as they flew, as though sick. As one, the creatures began to fly out over the rooftops, staying low in their unified desire to escape!

 Spoiler
Casting Flight of Separation, which acts as a Reflexive Cast Sorcery action that immediately transforms me into a flight of birds. I can immediately take a move, which I do, and as the birds fly at 20 miles an hour, I can move at roughly 30 feet per second, or 10 yards per tick. There are wound penalties that might slow me, so I'll take this into account. I will, conveniently, be flying in the same direction that Ganaliel and Nori's character are coming from.

I might be within view of those two if either has high perception. I'm going to guess that ol' eyepatch doesn't have the best eyesight. Any archer or sorcerer would be able to target the flock of birds if they know to do so. Survival could let someone identify the birds as meadowlarks, which do happen to be native to plains environments, but they'd look extremely strange flying together with some of them wounded or sick.


[User]
 You find yourself in a bare room, picked clean by time and the ones before you. Behind you is the exit.
To the West you can see a lowered portcullis and to the south there is a closed door.

Map:

 Spoiler

[User]
 Sirloren readies his rapier, checking the shield straps before approaching the door to the south. His eyes scan over it and he probes a suspicious looking stone with his blade-point.

Search:  (1d20+7)[ 8 ]

(Well this is an awful start)

[User]
 No matter how much poking is done, the stone will not reveal its seceret. It does however give of a nice *tink* sound every time the rapier hits it.
*tink*
*tinktinktink*

[User]
 "My blade tells me I am safe. Onward!"
Sirloren opens the door then lunges through, point first

[User]
 The door opens easily and you burst through. You find yourself in a much narrower room, its center occupied by a fountain. However, unlike the entrance this one is occupied by three creatures, two of which look the same. They seem startled by your entrance and not at all amused.
Slightly to the south of what is likely a boar you see a rolled up piece of vellum, smudged and partway stuck between two floorstones.
The room seems to have a south exit, a simple archway but you can only see more stone floor and wall beyond it.

- You get a standard action *surprise* , then roll initiative -

Map:

 Spoiler

[User]
 "Olidamarra, my patron and protector, bless my blade and allow me to overcome."

Sirloren's rapier blade flashes with crackling energy as he flicks it through a series of flourishes.

 Spoiler

Magic Weapon
Iniative:  (1d20+3)[ 19 ]

[User]
 One of the ram-like creatures charges at you and the boar moves over to gore you. The second ram walks around the other two, to attack you as well.

Attacks:

 Spoiler
Boar:  (1d20+4)[ 16 ]  for  (1d8+3)[ 10 ]  damage
Charging Ram:  (1d20+4)[ 5 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 4 ]  damage
Other Ram:  (1d20+2)[ 6 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 7 ]  damage

New Map:

 Spoiler

[User]
 Sirloren barely notices as the creatures bounce off his strong, armored form. Tusks scrape off of his steel shield, rasping echoes bounce off the stone walls. The two rams are dodged and Sirloren thrusts straight around his shield, burying the point in the boar's thick hide and turning the ram wool red with its hot blood when he flicks his blade black out.

 Spoiler

Bluff:   (d20-8)[ 9 ]
Attack:  (1d20+6)[ 18 ]
Damage:  (1d6+2)[ 6 ]
Amazingly unlikely sneak attack dmg:  (1d6)[ 3 ]

[User]
 More hitting:

 Spoiler
Boar:  (1d20+4)[ 13 ]  for  (1d8+3)[ 9 ]
Ram 1:  (1d20+2)[ 9 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 7 ]
Ram 2:  (1d20+2)[ 5 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 7 ]

Seeing how fights (at least this early on) may be a lot of back and forth hitting, I propose a faster method.

Can you give me rolls and actions (insofar possible) for 5 rounds? You can assume that these ones will simply keep bashing at you in good dumb Stone Soup animal manner.

[User]
 Sirloren uses shield and armor to fend off tusks and horns as his weapon flicks through long arcs, piercing hide and coarse hair, flesh and bone.

 Spoiler

Prioritizing the boar, then the rams.
 (1d20+6)[ 10 ]   (1d6+2)[ 5 ]
 (1d20+6)[ 22 ]
 (1d6+2)[ 6 ]
 (1d20+6)[ 22 ]
 (1d6+2)[ 7 ]
 (1d20+6)[ 15 ]
 (1d6+2)[ 7 ]
 (1d20+6)[ 11 ]
 (1d6+2)[ 6 ]

[User]
 The enemy attacks:

 Spoiler
Boar:  (1d20+4)[ 24 ]  for  (1d8+3)[ 7 ]
Ram 1:  (1d20+2)[ 5 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 4 ]
Ram 2:  (1d20+2)[ 9 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 6 ]

Boar:  (1d20+4)[ 15 ]  for  (1d8+3)[ 11 ]
Ram 1:  (1d20+2)[ 3 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 3 ]
Ram 2:  (1d20+2)[ 16 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 6 ]

Boar:  (1d20+4)[ 12 ]  for  (1d8+3)[ 5 ]
Ram 1:  (1d20+2)[ 18 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 6 ]
Ram 2:  (1d20+2)[ 13 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 4 ]

Boar:  (1d20+4)[ 11 ]  for  (1d8+3)[ 10 ]
Ram 1:  (1d20+2)[ 8 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 7 ]
Ram 2:  (1d20+2)[ 14 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 7 ]

Boar:  (1d20+4)[ 12 ]  for  (1d8+3)[ 5 ]
Ram 1:  (1d20+2)[ 3 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 3 ]
Ram 2:  (1d20+2)[ 18 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 5 ]

[User]
 "Olidamarra, see me safely through this danger."

Sirloren steps back and calls on divine energy to let power flow once more through his limbs. He then lets his opponents come to him, where the beasts will be hampered by the door and he can take them one at a time.

 Spoiler
5' step and cure light wounds  (1d8+1)[ 6 ]
2:  (1d20+6)[ 11 ]   (1d6+2)[ 6 ]
3:  (1d20+6)[ 16 ]   (1d6+2)[ 4 ]
4:  (1d20+6)[ 25 ]   (1d6+2)[ 4 ]
5:  (1d20+6)[ 23 ]   (1d20+2)[ 15 ]

[User]
 Spoiler

Crit confirm 4:  (1d20+6)[ 21 ]
Crit damage 4:
 (1d6+2)[ 5 ]
Damage 5:
 (1d6+2)[ 6 ]

[User]
 The boar falls as now the Rams attempt to gore you:

 Spoiler

Ram 1:  (1d20+2)[ 14 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 4 ]  damage
Ram 2:  (1d20+2)[ 11 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 5 ]  damage

Ram 1:  (1d20+2)[ 4 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 5 ]  damage
Ram 2:  (1d20+2)[ 15 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 4 ]  damage

Ram 1:  (1d20+2)[ 5 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 2 ]  damage
Ram 2:  (1d20+2)[ 21 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 7 ]  damage

Ram 1:  (1d20+2)[ 4 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 7 ]  damage
Ram 2:  (1d20+2)[ 17 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 5 ]  damage

Ram 1:  (1d20+2)[ 16 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 6 ]  damage
Ram 2:  (1d20+2)[ 18 ]  for  (1d6+1)[ 3 ]  damage

[User]
 Holding the door, secure in the knowledge that the portcullis prevents an ambush from behind, Sirloren continues his assault on the rams trying to strike over the corpse of the boar.

 Spoiler

1: (1d20+6)[ 22 ]   (1d20+1)[ 5 ]
2: (1d20+6)[ 24 ]   (1d20+1)[ 12 ]
3: (1d20+6)[ 11 ]   (1d20+1)[ 12 ]
4: (1d20+6)[ 15 ]   (1d20+1)[ 7 ]
5: (1d20+6)[ 19 ]   (1d20+1)[ 4 ]

[User]
 Spoiler

Damage proper and crit confirm
 (1d6+1)[ 5 ]
 (1d6+1)[ 3 ]
 (1d6+1)[ 2 ]
 (1d6+1)[ 3 ]
 (1d6+1)[ 6 ]

Crit: (1d20+6)[ 21 ]
Crit dmg:  (1d6+1)[ 3 ]


[User]
 Watch Blue Is The Warmest Color Online Free, Watch Blue Is The Warmest Color Online Free,

  Watch Blue Is The Warmest Color Online Free   |   Watch Blue Is The Warmest Color Online Free
  Watch Blue Is The Warmest Color Online Free   |   Watch Blue Is The Warmest Color Online Free


[User]
 The town you find yourselves in is called Zho La, located on the lowland plains of the central territories of the empire.  The outlying clans have gathered here for the annual fighting tournament, as have numerous warriors and warlords out to make a name for themselves.

Although Zho La is relatively small, only a few hundred people live there year round, its streets swell with thousands of spectators, merchants and combatants.  After all, the prize this year is one of legendary value: a monk of the Adamantine Tower.  A slave to guide any who wish it to the top of the tower to claim their wish from God itself.

And that is why you are here, after all.  Whatever home you left behind when you began to seek your glory, you knew the rumors and legends of the Adamantine Tower and you knew in your heart that you were worthy to claim the power, that your wish was pure enough to lead you to the top.

The swell of fighters this year has forced an unusual circumstance though, the tournament must be fought in teams, instead of the one on one duels of the past.  The team that claims victory will be allowed to act as they wish with their prize, but they must achieve victory together.  So your first goal is clear:  Assemble a team.

[User]
 Talathiel wiped the sweat from his brow. The summer sun beat down upon his head and heavy armor. He'd have to take it off sometime soon, its padding was suffocating, but not yet. Not with all the fighters and mercenaries around. Tal doubted that most of them would not pass by an opportunity to thin out the competition.

Still, he had made it. After a year of travel, he finally had a real lead. With a guide knowledgeable of the path to the tower and its challenges, this journey could finally come to a happy end.

First things first. He needed allies. The clan council had announced the rule changes, must to the distraught of region's warriors, but Tal was somewhat pleased. He had never been the best fighter, and it'd be useful to have a few partners to shore up his weaknesses. He'd just have to figure out how the prize was going to work.

So, to assemble a team...

[User]
 A short yelp from a surprised fighter heralded Isaac's arrival.  He wore no armor yet still towered over many of the warriors around, man-sized claymore on his back gleamed in the sunlight.  His azure eyes flew from person to person, settling on the armored form of Talathiel.    He'll do as well as any,   the massive Northman thought.

  "Hark!  You there!  Yes, you in the scarf."    Isaac took a few steps forward, closing the gap between the half-elf and himself.    "My name is Isaac, and I am in need of your assistance!"    His grin grew wide and his eyes shone faintly in the light of the noonday sun.    "Will you help me settle a bet?"

[User]
 A team.

Discerning amber eyes scanned the assembled fighters, trying to find the perfect answer to this conundrum.  Wing hadn't expected that she'd have to find a team.  How could she pick the right one?  She needed power, that much was certain.  She'd never get the prize without a group strong enough to make it there.  But could she find a group who could do that and would also use the prize the right way?  The world was twisted enough already, what if she helped someone make it to the top who made it even worse?

It was bad enough the guide to the prize was a slave, but at least that was something she could use the prize to fix.  Could she risk leading a stranger to the prize who could turn into a monster?

[User]
 Tal was almost startled by the stranger's approach, almost to the point of knocking off his glasses, but he was able to quickly recover his composure. He was a tall and strong looking fellow. A Northman. Tal had had the chance to fight both with and against Northmen in defense of the monastery. Most of the time, the local tribes were helpful with fighting off roving monsters or dragons, but occasionally some warlord would get the idea that the temple was ripe to be sacked.

And it was a pain to get them to drop that illusion.

Although Talathiel was tall for a half-elf, the human towered over him. He was unnaturally tall. Still, Talathiel tried to act unfazed as he looked up over his glasses, making eye-contact with the near giant.

Talathiel stretched out his hand in a welcoming gesture.

  The name's Tal. If you're looking for an ally in the ring, we just might be able to help each other.

[User]
 It's a massive crowd, all pushed together in a tiny space, and Naggrund wonders that there aren't already bodies. At least two in every three people has a weapon of some sort, large or small, drawn or sheathed. He has a hard time finding anyone else to ally with, and now, that's strangely all important. But there's no time to do it right, or with proper rituals --to choose by the way of Bushido, it would take longer than entire tournament. So, then, it would be best to just choose the first he could see who seemed good.

And there, out of the corner of his eye, were two. A giant of a half-elf, and a tower of a human. They were the perfect sort of people. Those who were strong needed the fast as well, and he, as one of those fast blades, needed the strong equally so.  "Well-met! You two seem mighty in your time. If you will brave the curse of the Marwolaeth blade and its razor edge, I will be your man. I am a Bushi, well trained in both speed and its application to the deadly flaws of the humanoid body. What training have you?"

 Spoiler

I just realized that we *totally* need someone who has White Raven as a central build, and/or Golden Lion. Did anybody remember this key fact... before we set up our characters?

[User] Isaac grinned bashfully down at Tal and the newcomer.    "While some friends in the ring would be MOST FORTUITOUS, that wasn't why I approached you.  I, well actually, another warrior and I have gotten into a bit of a scuffle over a test of strength.  We require a judge, you see, and most of these men won't give me the time of day.  As for you, my good man-"   the mountain of a Northman shifted his attention to Naggrund   "-I'd be happy to have you and your sword by my side in the upcoming fights.  My talents lie in the VANGUARD.  Dropping three men with three strikes in three seconds is my specialty."

[User] "Three men in three seconds? Quite boastful, you are... but that'll do, I suppose. And finely, for this fight. My method is one of speed as well... perhaps we could share, somewhat."  He's hopeful, having already found two good warriors, bringing their party up to three.  "Do you know what the limit is on number, good fellows?"

[User]
 Isaac wasn't the only combatant who wasn't wearing armor at the moment.

A short, but powerfully-built feline person made her way through the crowd, wearing a blue cloak, with a backpack slung over one shoulder, and carrying a large, curved sword that blazed with shining letters along its blade. The sword wasn't the only obviously magical thing about her, though.

The cloak faintly shimmered with an ever-changing starscape, while her eyes blazed with arcane power. A distinctly male, leonine humanoid figure seemed superimposed over her spotted-furred body, almost invisible, but more prominent whenever it was backed by shadow.

" So, teams today? I guess that means I might not get my ass kicked too badly... I feel really outclassed here, " she sighed to herself, trying to gauge the others standing around her. ...Is spellcasting even allowed in whatever this stupid tournament is for? ...what the hell am I even doing here? " She was voicing some strong self-doubts, having just recently become an initiate of the nine swords - certainly not to the extent of those around her! Eh... maybe she'll find a team.

" Go to the Adamantine Tower, he said. There I'd gain power, he said. Nobody told me about a ****ing tournament. "
[spoiler=Temp HP from False Life] (1d10+5)[ 15 ]
Also, she's casting  Detect Magic  - I don't need too much information from it, though.[spoiler]

[User]
 As you all look around you notice others forming up into groups and men with tall green hats, the local tournament organizers, handing out colored headbands to those in groups of five.  It appears that you'll need that many members in order to participate.

The knowledge seems to ripple out among the crowd, and the groups begin forming faster.  Your time to find enough teammates is drawing to a close.

 Wing

There is a group of three men, two of them heavily armored giants, the other shorter and carrying a long, curved blade.  They appear to still be looking for teammates.

 Tashiir

Your best bet appears to be the group of three armored men standing a little distance away, most other groups have four people at least, and if they only have three your chances of getting in are doubled, right?

 Spoiler

Detect Magic:  Most people are lacking in magical gear, nothing appears especially powerful in terms of weapons and armor.  What's more amazing is the sheer variety of weapons and armor present.  Its rather intimidating.

Only one group appears especially well equipped.  Five fetchling warriors, who you notice arrived together, are nearly blinding with magical auras.  They might be trouble.

[User]
 Tal raised an eyebrow, but kept his composure. The Northman's request was odd, but acceptable, and it looked like they would be joined by another.

Things were going quite smoothly.

Tal turned to the newcomer, greeting him with a nod.

  Four to five, if I remember correctly, but every sword counts. From what I hear, the tournament isn't exactly designed to be nonlethal.

I'm Tal by the way, Son of None.

[User] "Well-met. And I see a few more who may round us out... That cat, over there, say."  He points to Tashiir.  "And I'd say we need five rather than four. If we have a choice, I think that men of the right caliber should be in greater number than less... especially for such a task as this."

[User]
 The time to find teammates is quickly drawing to a close.  If you do not hurry, your place in the tournament will be lost.

 Spoiler

Its up to you all if you want to keep roleplaying this all out, or we can skip ahead to the inevitable point where you all end up on a team.

If we follow the second option, I can allow you all a little "campfire time" to get to know your teammates, or we can dive right into the tournament.  Its up to you all.

[User]
 Tashiir headed over to the group of three. It would seem that if they didn't get another person, all four of them would be out of a place in the tournament, and that would be terrible and stupid and self-defeating.

" This team looks incomplete... mind if I join you? " she asked, " I was sent here by a vision of my great-grandfather to save my people... but I can't help feeling that I'm way outclassed here. I've only just started training as a martial adept... but I think I have some effective sorcery to bring to the party " she babbles, trying to get her case made and out of the way as quickly as possible.


[User]
 The crowd is in an uproar as the two contestants are brought into the arena and unshackled in their opposing corners. The gigantic gates behind each of them would usually close with a deafening din of metal and stone, but any sound the gates would make is drowned out by those seeking entertainment. Both of them knew to expect this, but actually experiencing it was something else entirely. As the two fighters prepare to defend their lives, Culhwch is the first off the blocks.

 Initiative Rolls
 HuskyBoi, you're up!
 @HuskyBoi:

 Spoiler
I want to make sure I didn't miss anything; your HP is at 8 after the last fight, right?

[User]
 Culhwch braces himself for the fight. This one's going to be tough. But he is ready for action and will not go down without throwing himself fully at the foe!

He sheathes his sword, and draws a potion to drink deeply. That done, he draws the second javelin from his back. It's time to start.

 Spoiler: Description
Culhwch wears a long, heavy green cloak. He carries a circular bronze-coloured shield on one arm, and the other now holds a finely-weighted javelin. His long hair is golden, and his beard is trimmed neatly, so as not to present a grabbable target. He shifts lightly on his feet, and the chain links of his shirt jingle.

 Spoiler: Actions
Move action: sheathe sword.
Free action: Draw potion.
Standard: Drink CMW potion, heal  (2d8+3)[ 12 ]  hit points.
Free action: Draw a javelin.

 Spoiler: @Ponies
Aye, that's correct. I also have only one javelin assuming the one I dropped in the last game is not returned to Culhwch. That ws my last potion too...

[User]
 Spoiler: Description
Tersik is, in a word, ugly.  He walks with a limp due to a twist in his spine caused by his wings that causes him to stand hunched over, and his face was once cloven near in two by a dragon's tooth, and was horribly scarred by the fire of that same dragon, whom he eventually defeated.  Nonetheless, the fire cauterized the wound and kept his face misshapen.  He wields a greataxe and wears a simple breastplate and loose clothing underneath that allows for flexible motion.  He also has a belt of daggers, and two leather bags at his side that contain something you can't make out.  Tarnished silver wings sprout from his back, the color of which match his scales.

I exit the gate with caution, but once I see that my foe is already battered, I wonder if I presented myself poorly in qualification to be given an already-injured foe, but no matter.  I will take this one down.  He must have been a formidable warrior to have survived the first round, but I am even more so, and I'm fresh.

My axe is already drawn, so I approach my foe at a steady jog, keeping my axe up, alert to anything he might try.

 Spoiler: Actions
Double move to get to L9.

[User]
 Culhwch prepares himself for combat as his foe jogs forwards. He hefts his javelin high, and throws it with all his might to try and strike a square blow and halt the charge!

 Spoiler: Actions
Standard action only to throw the javelin. The target is 80ft, or two full range increments away as I see it, so the total attack roll is:
 (1d20+5)[ 23 ]  and damage is  (1d6+4)[ 5 ] .

[User]
 The javelin connects with my shoulder as I try to dodge, grazing me.  I see he doesn't have another javelin with him, so I continue at a steady jog, unfazed.

 Spoiler: Actions
Double move to D17.

[User]
 Time for battle, fierce and bold! But we must also be cautious. Culhwch strides forwards, keeping a close eye on his opponents moves. Instead of lunging wildly forwards, he keeps his shield held high, and lashes from behind it.

 Spoiler: Actions
Move action- move up to D16.
Standard action: Make an attack roll while fighting defensively.
Attack roll:  (1d20+8)[ 20 ]  Damage:  (1d8+7)[ 12 ]
Crit confirmation:  (1d20+12)[ 14 ]  Damage:  (1d8+7)[ 12 ]

+2 dodge bonus to AC until my next turn.

@PONIES

 Spoiler
Do I still get the bonuses for the crowd being friendly? Since it is the same crowd, seems to make sense fluff-wise, but rules-wise it's your call. The rolls above were made assuming not, but I'm happy to be corrected!

[User]
 Spoiler: Movement/attack issues
Just making sure you meant D16 not C16.  I get an AoO if you move to D16 because you'd be moving through my theatened space.  If you meant C16, I trust you; just ignore the AoO damage.  Also, since your sword was put away, what were you hitting me with?  The shield?

I smile as my foe enters reach of my axe en route to attacking me as I lash out at him with my hefty axe.

 Spoiler: AoO attack/damage

Attack roll:  (1d20+13)[ 28 ]
Crit confirmation (if necessary):  (1d20+13)[ 23 ]
Damage:  (1d12+9)[ 20 ]
Extra Damage from Crit (if necessary):  (2d12+18)[ 26 ]

As he strikes me, I feel the pain, but shrug it off.  I grin and strike at him twice with my hefty axe.

 Spoiler: Full Round Attack/damage

Attack 1:
Attack roll:  (1d20+13)[ 23 ]
Crit confirmation (if necessary):  (1d20+13)[ 16 ]
Damage:  (1d12+9)[ 15 ]
Extra Damage from Crit (if necessary):  (2d12+18)[ 39 ]

Attack roll:  (1d20+8)[ 24 ]
Crit confirmation (if necessary):  (1d20+8)[ 27 ]
Damage:  (1d12+9)[ 15 ]
Extra Damage from Crit (if necessary):  (2d12+18)[ 29 ]

[User]
 Spoiler
 Apologies, you are right about both the movement and weapons. I did mean c6, and I forgot to mention drawing my sword as a free action. However, it matters very little as...

Culhwch is dead! Cloven clean in two by the hefty sweeps of Tersik's axe. He falls to the floor and does not rise, his career as a gladiator at it's end.

[User]
 I smile in triumph, though my warrior's honor makes me saddened because I could not face my foe at his full strength.  I bow to the audience, spreading my wings and gliding around the arena once before settling back down.

 Spoiler: Movement/action

Basically, just doing a victory dance.  If any of that seems implausible to do before he'd get 'ported away, just let me know.

[User]
 The crowd erupts into raucous applause as Tersik dances for their enjoyment.  As quickly as it had begun, the battle is over.

 Tersik wins!


[User]
 =========================

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[User]
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[User]
 Each of you has signed on with the  Angel's Dawn  and today is the day to board ship and leave the Sviri port city of Darin. The area around the  Dawn  is a mess of crates, men, and assorted other sundries. A tall, lean man is shouting orders to the hands as they carry heavy crates on board. A small group of mercenaries stands off to one side, making conversation with each other.

It is to this scene that you have walked in, this ship will hopefully take you where you need to go, or perhaps it will take you on a journey you had no idea would happen. Either way, this is your new home...


[User]
 Sophos and Sophia, a pair of Dvati Dragonborn twins (who are now mineral warriors too) challenged an Archivist (12th level) employed by Cade, a noble who rules a decent sized city. What's at stake is the right to cast a single (unspecified) spell, without penalties from law or resistance or warding. And it just so happens that I bought a scroll of Dominate Person...

Here's my character:  http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetvie...sheetid=666789

Rules: 120 foot diameter arena, people stand at podiums 60 feet apart. No melee attacks (except from summoned creatures), no magical effects prior to entrance, no items (except, y'know, basic clothes. Not going nude). People are allowed to rest and recover fully beforehand. First to fall unconscious, die or give up loses.

Quirks: Magic is extremely wacky. Spell components are fairly rare, and people get half spells, but spells deal double damage. Similarly, magic items cost double but have doubled or increased effects. Also, deities are just people with a lot of worshippers -technically anyone can ascend.

My initiative:  (1d20+2)[ 20 ]

Actions:

 Spoiler
If someone goes first, move forward 30 feet and ready an action to breath lightning (regular, not entangling) if the Archivist starts casting. If two people go first, both move up 30 feet, but the first one moves up and breathes entangling lightning, while the second readies an action.

[User]
 Initiative isn't showing...?  (1d20+2)[ 11 ]

Edit: Ah, there we go. Second initiative: [roll]1d20+2[/roll]

If flavor is needed, the first was Sophos, the second was Sophia.

Edit2: *twitch* *twitch* I guess I could post again, if you can't roll on edits to prevent cheating...?

[User]
 Second Initiative:  (1d20+2)[ 15 ]

Edit: FINALLY 😁

[User]
 Wait. Changing my action.

 Spoiler
As the other one, except if both go first ready action to entangle, not just breath. Also, change trigger to "when an identified spell cast likely to kill or KO either one of us or an unidentified spell is cast".

[User]
 Adding a few details to my actions.

 Spoiler
It's also going to be a Earth Strike (from Mineral Warrior) and Power Surged for +1 damage/die, so boost that save to DC 28 and the damage to 4d6+9. Concentration DC 32 😎

[User]
 *sigh* this is getting a little absurd. Oh well.

 Spoiler
If both first, their both going to move 30 feet forward, and then ready actions to burrow 5 feet down and 10 feet towards the archivist as soon as he starts casting. If I'm allowed to drag people, if either one goes first, drag them 15 feet forward and ready action to drag them down.

[User]
 http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetvie...sheetid=711573
 (1d20+3)[ 11 ]

 Spoiler
cast bands of steel then quickened sleep I take 4 con damage

[User]
 OOC note: Screw my previous notes about actions. Let's just say that was them debating what they were going to do while traveling...

You see the twins you've been told to duel, and even at the sixty foot regulation  distance you can see their alleged beauty. They dash forward, closing the gap between you and them, approximately halving the distance between you and them.

 Spoiler
One has a readied action to burrow diagonally down and forward 5 feet, dragging his sister, if there's a threat that will immediately end the duel (sleep, heavy damage, immobilize, ect), meaning spellcraft success and identifying a dangerous spell or unidentified spell. The other has a readied action to blast Entangling Lightning if there's a chance that they will be unable to hit the Archivist (same conditions as the above, but also moving out of range and teleportation spells).

[User]
 Spellcraft for any spells:

 (1d20+9)[ 12 ]  and  (1d20+9)[ 25 ]

Note: They have telepathy, so both know everything the other knows. Cool stuff.

[User] The results: Archivist tries to Bands of Steel, he gets blasted with entangling lightning. He succeeds but the two dive out of sight, fizzling the spell. The two move forward, and the Archivist summons a small earth elemental. However, before the elemental can get there, the two run up to the Archivist. Then the Archivist tries to Levitate, but gets blasted by two Smite-imbued, Power Surged breath weapons. This almost knocks him unconscious, and he then falls unconscious from the residual damage from entangling lightning.


[User]
 Spoiler
FYI, Carl: I think I'm going to entitle the last adventure '  Slaves of the Storm God!"   It's a subtle title; I like subtle titles.

 “Punch it, Uley. We’ve got to get out of here!”

Fingers bleached white fingers gripping the steering wheel of the stolen junker, face set in an expression of utter determination, you acknowledge Mick’s words with a curt nod and a muttered grunt. The snap and crack of rifle fire sings in the air around the taxing junker as it begins to build up speed for a take off. Cursing, several of the nazi troopers try vainly to prevent the aircraft’s escape, only to be dashed aside like bowling pins as the junker’s wheels leave the asphalt of the snow-wreathed runway. And then… and then everything becomes a blur. You’re on autopilot, operating on sheer adrenaline and raw instinct. Crackling hands of lightning reach out to thwart your escape as the Junker rockets on unsteady wings through the tumultuous sky. The interior of the aircraft shudders and the engine cuts as a blast of lightning takes the Junker square in the tail; but you work the throttle and tease the starter generator, inciting spluttering life into the machine’s failing heart. And then – miraculously! – you’re free, exiting the belly of the storm out into a iron-grey sky….

~~~~

You sail on for the rest of the day, the junker’s nose aimed squarely at the burnished copper disk of the distant sun embossed against the afternoon sky. Below, the flint-edged spear tips of the Himalayan peaks begin to descend, giving way to snow swept foothills of Northern India. The stolen aircraft drops likewise, skirting the surface of the precipitous mountains, sailing the calm sub-zero thermals like a kite in the grasp of a child on a warm summer’s day.

The weather is still bitter and hostile, the sky still an unremitting grey, but neither fact seems able to dim the feeling of elation that overcomes you when you consider the trials you have been forced to endure on that hideous mountain of madmen and alien invaders. Only one thought tarnishes your victory: the death of Choden.

You can still see the old monk’s bloodstained and frail body, prostrate on the snowy airfield, bleeding out but defiant. Guilt overcomes you for a second, but you quickly but the emotion aside. You turn your attention to the rear of the plane, where Mick and Sally and Guo Zai are hauled up. The Australian seems in good spirits, all things considered. Guo Zai, clearly sullen over the death of his master, clutches tight the tattered brown remains of the ancient scroll Choden bequeathed to him shortly before the old man’s demise.

 “Where to now, Uley?”  Mick enquires from his seat in the passenger compartment.  “I need to reach Lahore as soon as possible – the world needs to know about the horrors inside those mountains!”

You pause to get your bearings and plot where in the mountains you’ve come up. Judging by the lay of the land, you’re somewhere on the borders of the Congress Indian state of Uttarakhand, perhaps three hundred miles from Lahore. Reaching British territory will require a stopover at Shimla first, for refuelling and a restock of supplies; but even Shimla’s going to be a struggle given the half-tank of fuel the Junker has remaining. You’re going to have to use your initiative and pit stop somewhere soon.

 Spoiler
Right, it’s time that Ulysses made use of his contacts in the area to find a friendly airfield. What I’ll need from you, Carl, is a description of the airfield’s operator, how you know him/her, and what – if any – services the airfield provides (beyond storage and refuelling). Because the airfield’s location ties into the start of the next adventure, I can tell you that it will be isolated, in the mountains, and receive very few visitors. All other details are yours to decide upon.

[User]
 "Lahore will have to wait, Mick.  We're a tad shy on gas.  That'd be 'petrol,' to you,"  he adds with a grin.

Ulysses grunts, then sighs.  "Shimla," he says.  "We'll have to put over in Shimla."

Looking over to Mick, Ulysses continues.   "It's best reached by road or rail, but, I know a guy ... guess you can call him a friend ... he might be able to help us out."

Ulysses ponders the situation ...

----------
'Friend' might be a little on the optimistic side of things.  Darvesh Signh ... something about being a humble or gentlemanly lion.  Well, he roared like a lion, that was for sure, but he was a slender and unassuming fellow.  Loud voice.  A bookworm - thoughtful and educated ... Oxford, was it?  Someplace British.

Anyway, he ran a sort of underground railroad for smuggling through the Himalayas and between British India and China.  On the surface, all business.  Underneath ... something rougher.  Never one to get his own hands dirty, Darvesh was not a vicious man by nature, but cross him, and you might find yourself freezing to death on a midnight climb up Jakhoo Hill - or falling from it, in the summer.

He and Darvesh always had an understanding.  Ulysses would ask for fuel, lodging, or other services at a certain price, Darvesh would play the brigand and claim that circumstances would change, and they would haggle a bit with Ulysses seemingly getting ripped off for higher fuel prices in the end.  It was all a charade, however.  Darvesh would get their usual - and always pre-arranged price - and Ulysses would get to claim some form of aggrieved status with his clients who would often agree to pay a slightly higher fee due to the unexpected change of fortune.

Ulysses smiles at the thought.    'Those were good times,'   he thinks, pondering how it has been about a year - maybe a few months more - since he has seen Darvesh.

Never one to pass up a deal, and ever the middle man for whatever might need to be bought, sold, or disappeared - Darvesh was the consummate businessman.  Because of that, Ulysses never completely trusted the man.  A predictable relationship was fine.  But, throw a surprise into the mix or have Darvesh smell a profit at his expense?  Well, Ulysses can't be too certain how that might end up.
----------

Ulysses looks back to Mick after returning his thoughts to the here and now.   "Be careful what you say there.  The walls have ears, and those ears may be out for themselves."

[User]
 The small collection of wooden and stone houses that sit amidst the foothills of the Himalayan Mountains don’t have a name, at least not one that’ll ever find its way into a guidebook or traveller’s atlas.

To you and hundreds of men like you – bold, rugged walkers of the wild fringes of civilisation – it’s just a stopping point, a meeting post, a dot to punctuate the red line of grander journeys to come. Mercenaries, privateers, freebooters and explorers, these and more come here to lay down their rifles and warm their calloused hands, before setting off again to chart the wild unknowns.

One hundred yards of weed-choked and cracked asphalt pass for settlement’s runway; as far as runways go, you’ve landed on worse, and you’re just glad you’re somewhere familiar. Parking up the thirsty Junker and opening the pilot’s door, you step out into the wan light of the late afternoon sun, which glowers like a cooling coin of metal between the hoary old fangs of the northern mountains. It’s cold here – no, check that; it’s damned freezing – and tiny snowflakes corkscrew ground-ward like downed aircraft all around you as you stamp your feet, work your knotted muscles, and get your bearings. Then, with Mick and Guo Zai in two, you set off for the building you know to be Darvesh’s office.

Rapping once, you step through the door and into a room that’s part storehouse, part control tower. A faux log-effect electric heater buzzes away in one corner of the room, situated between rusted filing cabinets and stacks of wooden packing crates. A corkboard on the far wall holds shipping and pilot manifests, as well as faded yellow maps – horribly antiquated, now that the Serpent has shifted the world’s topography – and little reminder notes and monthly profit forecasts. Darvesh is there, among the mess, and he turns and greets you, his voice that curious mixture of 'Oxford set' rowboats-and-picnics gentility and Hindi spice.

  “Ah, now here’s a sight! Ulysses Steele, the great sailor of the skies sees fit to once more lay anchor at our fair port!”   Darvesh rises, extends a hand,   “I didn’t realise you’d changed planes, old boy. What happened to the Beechcraft you were knocking about with? I thought you loved that thing.”

 Spoiler
Take your time with this one, Carl. I'm probably going to have my attention partially diverted until tomorrow night or Friday, so no great rush to get a reply up.

[User]
 Ulysses smirks as he bobs his head, and then sighs.   "Well, let's say that I had to make an unfair trade in a seller's market."

Nodding to the faux stove in the corner,  "I see you have power.  That means you have fuel to power a generator or two.  You have moved up in the world!"   He looks back to Mick and the others for a moment.   "Mind if my friends warm themselves by your 'fire'?"

Stepping forward, he slips off the glove to his right hand and extends it to Darvesh.   "So, how are things,  old bean ?"  he asks, offering the last part in his best, exaggerated aristocratic British accent.


[User]
 So, 50% miss chance for invisible: (1 miss, 2 hit)
 [roll0]

 Attack roll: must hit touch AC of 18
 [roll1]
 damages:
 [roll2]

[User]
 So, 50% miss chance for invisible: (1 miss, 2 hit)
 (1d2)[ 2 ]

Attack roll: must hit touch AC of 18
 (1d20+11)[ 28 ]
damages:
 (3d8)[ 11 ]

[User]
 Firing Searing Light again, 20% miss chance for foliage concealment: (1 = miss, 2-5 = hit)
 (1d5)[ 1 ]

Attack roll: must hit touch AC of 18
 (1d20+11)[ 17 ]
damages:
 (3d8)[ 10 ]

[User]
 Listen check:
 (1d20+20)[ 22 ]

[User]
 Listen check vs 16 MS roll by Anya.

 (1d20+20)[ 35 ]

[User]
 Grapple check with questionable casting of evard's black tentacles:
1d20+9 (bab) + 3 (str) + 4 (improved grapple)
 (1d20+16)[ 25 ]

[User]
 Escape attempt:

Tad 1d20+16 vs Anya 1d20+13+8

T:  (1d20+16)[ 18 ]
A:  (1d20+21)[ 31 ]

[User]
 Attempt 2:
T:  (1d20+16)[ 28 ]
A:  (1d20+21)[ 33 ]

[User]
 T:  (1d20+16)[ 23 ]
A:  (1d20+21)[ 28 ]

[User]
 forgot there's a 4th attempt:
T:  (1d20+16)[ 29 ]
A:  (1d20+21)[ 40 ]

In case it fails Tentacle damage (1d6+4)
 (1d6+4)[ 10 ]

[User]
 To save time, I'll do all 4 possible grapple checks in one go, if Tad escapes it's assumed he moves out at that point and the rest don't happen.
(first is tad, then anya)
1: (1d20+16)[ 21 ]  vs  (1d20+21)[ 27 ]
2: (1d20+16)[ 29 ]  vs  (1d20+21)[ 34 ]
3: (1d20+16)[ 31 ]  vs  (1d20+21)[ 36 ]
4: (1d20+16)[ 36 ]  vs  (1d20+21)[ 40 ]

if damages:
 (1d6+4)[ 9 ]

[User]
 next round:

 (1d20+16)[ 25 ]  vs  (1d20+21)[ 30 ]
 (1d20+16)[ 24 ]  vs  (1d20+21)[ 38 ]
 (1d20+16)[ 27 ]  vs  (1d20+21)[ 30 ]
 (1d20+16)[ 33 ]  vs  (1d20+21)[ 22 ]
 (1d6+4)[ 8 ]

[User]
 Checks to do damage in the grapple (failed to do these earlier)

T:  (1d20+16)[ 28 ]
A:  (1d20+21)[ 23 ]

T2:  (1d20+16)[ 21 ]
A2: (1d20+21)[ 30 ]

[User]
 (1d20+16)[ 31 ]  if > 35, no grapple

tad's turn:
 (1d20+16)[ 20 ]  vs  (1d20+21)[ 41 ]
 (1d20+16)[ 19 ]  vs  (1d20+21)[ 33 ]
 (1d20+16)[ 28 ]  vs  (1d20+21)[ 32 ]
 (1d20+16)[ 34 ]  vs  (1d20+21)[ 23 ]

possible damages:
 (1d6+4)[ 8 ]
 (1d6+4)[ 6 ]
 (1d6+4)[ 8 ]
 (1d6+4)[ 5 ]


[User]
 It is meal time on Watch Fortress Eroich, the bells chiming threw out the station indicating it was “noon” though such measures had little meaning in the far reaches of space, such measures were necessary to keep one sane within the timeless fortress. A scant few dozen battle brothers were assembled in the this hall that could have easily housed over ten times their number creating a cavernous atmosphere of frigid isolation in areas unoccupied, dusty tables and seats speak of their disuse. The walls were adorned with images of the Imperial faith and the Primarchs, their visage staring sternly to the Astartes below. Though a few battle brothers choose to eat alone in his chambers, most of those assembled on Eroich preferred to dine with their kill-teams or chapter brothers. Despite the number of voices conversing, most were drowned out by the small congregation of Space Wolves in a corner of the hall, as loud boats of feats accomplished and those to come filling the hall. One kill-team sat together particularly well worn table made from ancient hardwoods. Though most Astartes preferred simple meals, an errant flying grox bone from a Son of Russ indicated a little indulgence was not out the question for some.

 Spoiler

What are you eating?

[User]
 A small snort escapes the mouth of Apothecary Victus Catullus as he watches the errant grox bone fly past him.  It is not a snort of derision or disdain, but rather, one of amusement.  The Ultramarine smirks a bit, and makes a mental note to watch out for future airborne foodstuffs courtesy the nearby Space Wolves.  He then returns his attention back to his own meal, eager to dive in.

Though taller and leaner than many Astartes, Victus seems to have just as much of an appetite as his brethren, if not more.  His plate is full to capacity with a hearty meal, comprised of fresh, natural (aside from nutri-boosting additives) foods, like grox-steak, steamed vegetables, fresh breads, and thick sauces.  It's not fine cuisine, but it's certainly filling, satisfying, and energizing.  While some Astartes may prefer more asetic meals of simple nutri-pastes and calorie supplements, Victus prefers more "proper" food for himself, both due to his knowledge of biology and nutrition, and out of personal taste.

As the dark-haired Ultramarine carves up his steak with precision knifework, he casts an idle glance around the table to see what his Kill-Team comrades have selected for today's lunch.  Hopefully something properly nutritious.  He'd hate to have to lecture them.

Again.

[User] Galmech is seated across from Victus, mechanically consuming a collection of nutrient pastes and calorie-boosters.  He catches the apothecary eying his meal with disapproval, and returns a stoic look.   "What?  It has everything my flesh needs to continue to function."


[User]
 This cave system might be comparatively small, but nonetheless subjugating it will be an achievement. Already, most of the locals acknowledge you, with only a few recalcitrant individuals resisting your takeover. As you rest from another day of conquering, you are awakened by an unfamiliar voice coming from a featureless offshoot of the cave.

 "Carry the one... divide by Tau... and  that  should do it!"

Following the voice, you find noone is there... but that a majestic archway has appeared, seemingly out of thin air, against the dungeon wall. Through the archway, you can see... another cave. The different color of the stone, and the utter darkness, hints that this is not just an unplanned expansion.

Suddenly, a polite female voice speaks from the top of the gate.

 "Dungeon number 5 5 4 0 8, thank you for your participation in the Global Unified Raid Project System (GURPS). With this inspired new system, adventurers will no longer need to spend weeks travelling between dungeons; each dungeon will be connected by portals like this one. We apologise for any inconvenience caused by suddenly appearing adventurers. To prevent unnecessary deaths, each dungeon will be connected to others of approximately the same Challenge Rating (TM)."
"This particular portal connects to Dungeon number 3 7 8 1 2, the Maze of the Minotaur."
"Please input a name for your segment of the GURPS, after the tone."
...
...
 -BEEP-

[User] "Victor sits atop his skeleton steed, his black armor and looks at the strange porticulis"  What the.....whoever did this will need a good trouncing. One does not simply alter another's domain without permission, and why is it this far into the dungeon? What's the point of having an entrance if they come in the back way.

[User] Renasha turns to look at the portal:  "Hey! That's not fair, this is our dungeon, and we just want to be left alone!"

[User] Well, this could be a boon Renasha. Now we will always know the direction the adventurers will come from. I'm more aggravated about the method and not being asked when changes are made to my kingdom

[User]
 "Well, you know how it is. Adventurers find their way into any dungeon anyway,"  Anariel comments idly, sharpening his sword while reclining on his ebony armchair.  "At least now there will be some order to it. We just need to be efficient at slaying them as they come, and we'll have a steady supply of magical riches and stolen goods with which to fuel our economy."

Then he frowns, and pauses in his task.  "We do have an economy, right? With these portals we could establish trade networks with other dungeons. This is a fantastic opportunity!"

[User] "An economy? Are you suggesting that we could get rich, I mean, very rich? As in, with servants, and nice furniture and art? That would be amazing. But ehm, if these adventurers come in through this portal, shouldn't we make some sort of plan to keep them from killing us all? They could come at any moment, right?" , Renasha says. The prospect of wealth is enticing to her, she would greatly enjoy those luxuries, but adventurers sound bad to her, they might try to harm her and her friends!

[User] "Victor looks at both of them"  You seem to be thinking ahead of yourselves, both of you. Remember all our defenses are currently situated as such to stop an assault from the front coming through the ziggurat. This bypasses all of them. Also we don't have the forces to man this dungeon yet, an attack could happen at any time. Therefore I propose one of us go out and recruit monsters to serve us. Or brigands, or maybe just get random bodies to raise as undead, but it must be done.

[User] "I don't know if I would be good at that really. I don't tend to leave much to be animated, and people don't really tend to like me for some reason, even when I am perfectly nice to them. So, why don't you go? You are good at making friends, right? Or killing people for that matter. I will just stay here, to do something about those stupid adventurers."

[User] "the helmet hides his face but you think he might be smirking as he chuckles'  So as usual the king of the land rides off to get things done as the queen remains home to deal with domestic issues? Very well, I'll ride out after the sun sets, me and my knights will make for the nearest village.

[User] An throws a critical glance at Victor, pondering the matter at hand.  "We should offer to hire the youth of the villagers as soldiers. We need an army, and they probably won't pass off an opportunity to ship away extra mouths and to have them paid regularly. We really should find Scrolls of Animate Undead or something similar, though."

[User]
 A girl pops up from behind a rock, looking a little more human than the rest. Well, apart from the disembodied tentacles, and the eyes blinking in her hair, that is.
" It's preeeetty... " she murmurs.

[User] "Victor Shrugs"  I doubt they would be of much use in all honesty, also I doubt many humans would be willing to let youth work for a deathknight. Also hello cathy nice of you to join us

[User] "But who says that they should be volunteers,  we can always force them,  right?

[User] Forced soldiers are poor soliders. They'll look for any opportunity to weaken us

[User] "But, they're minions, all of them are forced somehow. We only have to keep them more afraid of us than they are of anyone else. And we don't need real loyalty, we just need some fools to do the work for us."

[User] What then, when the heroes come knocking and convince them that they can slay us? no hiring the yougn doesn't provide us muc protection and just puts them in a position to harm us

[User] "Yeah, I'm with the boss on this one."  Anariel stretches, yawns, and hops up from his armchair, flexing his knuckles.  "Regardless, the adventurers won't be waiting for us to finish talking before showing up. Time to go fish for some monsters!"

[User] 'Victor nods"  We should divide our efforts, some of us go to gather monsters and minions, the rest stay here and come up with defensive strategies

[User] "Very well then, you go looking for that, I will stay here, watching the portal. Who wants to keep me company?" , the young medusa says.