Hekazu

D&D 5e - Hoard of the Dragon Queen

Familiar's scouting results have been published IC.

D&D 5e - Hoard of the Dragon Queen

The bear's antics would be very likely to draw the attention of the others who already had stopped for a moment. Judgement took off, flying to, around back from the place that was supposedly the location of the rear guard and the information they brought to the Druid was quite clear in nature. There were multiple people, at least as many as seven if not more. Unlike the ragtag folk they had seen before, these ones were most definitely alert and would spot anyone trying to approach them, one even following the movements of the familiar for a moment as it flew above them. A possible predator from below drove the bird back.

It could tell a few things of the rearguard. They were prepared to intercept anyone approaching through the army had taken, they were indeed on high alert and they were all wearing matching clothing with each of them dressed in a black leather tunic and to top it off the lot had copious amounts of spears and other throwable weapons at the ready. To walk in would be a fool's errand.

Mechanics&Rolls

Torus's familiar, Judgement, has flown to the ambush point and back, indeed confirming it as an ambush point. The rearguard seems numerous, but the animal could not really note down every single opponent due to getting intimidated by one or two of them noting its odd behaviour.

Rolls made: Stealth for the raven to appear natural. It did not go that well.

@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Norschtalen@Gordian Nought@Lucius Cypher@Ryonara

D&D 5e - Hoard of the Dragon Queen

@Gordian Nought
The bird has a name now? Nice. The action seems to be democratically approved, so feel free to go ahead with the plan.

D&D 5e - The Lost Lands

It was over. The last of the shadows dissipated as his bolt nailed them to their core, or something along those lines. Theodore was having a poetic streak, but in a way it only made sense. He was all that was left of the most dedicated templar, so if the holy books were to ever be restored... well, that'd be on him, maybe Wick as well. Had to learn the appropriate way with the words for that. Or maybe the angels would write them anew? Time would tell.

He look to the woman standing on his side and nodded. "Think that was that. Another victory for the Light", he said and smiled, though the facial expression was mostly concealed by his scarf. He closed the bolt case for now and raised the mask onto his face before starting to climb down the wall he had taken refuge at the top of. Some of the others remained wary, but the shadows had, thus far, displayed a tendency to always appear simultaneously. Surely if there were more around they would have joined the fight by now? He would be looking for his bolts for the time being, let other do what they do.

To his dismay only one of his bolts was found in usable condition. Others had either snapped or could not be found at all, but luckily enough the one bolt that had made it was the one near Thea. As he picked it up, he made a show of removing his mask and taking a look at Thea as he used it to unlock his bolt case. Sure, it had a finger operated release for times like these... but she had requested to see him more often. What harm was there to oblige for a second? After all, was this not technically still battle? Oh the lengths he would go to justify such a simple move. Maybe he would be better off just skipping such gestures next time.

Having collected the bolts he could, he approached the new acquaintance. He was a warrior for sure, what with the armour and axe in hand, and seemingly a friend of Birbin's, though the templar had already forgotten what their name was. "A friendly face. I had not been expecting to find many more since we found our purple wizard friend dashing through the streets in panic. I am Theodore, one of the templar from a land that no longer is. My friends and I seek to help the Kingdom of Light in these trying times. Who might you be, and what brings you here?" he asked of the battleaxe wielding man.

Mechanics&Rolls

Theodore went looking for his bolts and found a grand total of one out of four. Woop. Past that, he has simply addressed Valmjr, now wearing his mask again.

HP: 35/35 AC: 16 Concentrating: Nothing
Radiant Consumption: Available
Slayer's Eye: Inactive
War Priest: 0/2 uses expended

Spells expended:
1/1 Free Unique
2/3 1st

@Rig

D&D 5e - Hoard of the Dragon Queen

The group had some sort of a plan for themselves and while both of the potential fake captives were ready to act on it, Brannor delivered a convincing argument for himself. Kyra would get her chance too, if she so insisted, but at least the warrior of the wilds would be bound for the time being. With time passing every moment and daylight being such a limited commodity, especially with their late wake up call after last night's combat, the Greenest's defenders continued on their path towards the base camp of the cult.

The path was as easy to follow as it had been when they hadn't yet diverged from it and they could continue tracking the enemy force without any difficulty. What alerted them this time was not a trail of smoke however, but the piece of knowledge relayed to them by their momentary captive: There would be a rear guard set up about a mile from their position. They were approximately 100 yards away from a jutting rock formation when an idea struck both Torus and Kyra. That place would be perfect for an ambush.

The group stopped their advance for the moment and would need to establish a strategy for this obstacle. There was no reason to believe the rear guard would not be there or somewhere immediately nearby, but how would they be dealing with it? Surely simply marching through would be unlikely to work out in their favour?

Mechanics&Rolls

The party has left the stragglers' campsite behind and spotted the potential (and very likely) location of the rear guard from a distance of approximately 300 feet. No movement can be seen as of now, but the path they are currently following definitely goes right through the middle of the formation.

@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Norschtalen@Gordian Nought@Lucius Cypher@Ryonara

The Elder Scrolls: Swords & Septims

The drunk had decided to drink in the name of the now forbidden god. A great act of defiance. Cyrus did not hate this man, though nor did he really like him. They had conflicting qualities, that was for sure. A drunken oaf with the shortest attention span he had yet had the questionable joy of witnessing on his travels, though they still did not quite match some of the men he had had to deal with in his youth, but their heart was in the right place and they weren't afraid to act accordingly. He allowed a slight smile cross his face while Skall was emptying his flagon down his throat... in a way, though a long shot by all means, the man reminded him of himself. Ideals. Those were what was worth fighting and dying for.

Nobody seemed to have anything to say to him for a good while after that so he kept his focus on his meal, trying to get as much of it into his digestion as possible before they would have to move. He missed the many glances tossed around the campsite, but since he had been more than aware of that sort of thing going on, he could be certain he was on the receiving end of quite a few of those just as well. But for all that it was worth, the man chose not to care. They had already agreed to work together, so they would. Best they could do was prepare for themselves, not scrutinise how the others were doing it. Even if he did not agree with the methods of the Thirsty or the decision to send the Khajiit alone into the dark, he would not bring them to question. He had not been asked, so whatever they did would not concern him much. He had his own ideas on how to handle everything, of course, but he was not the leader this time.

What shook him out of his unresponsiveness was Raelynn mixing something at the fire, a puff of coloured smoke puffing forth from her pot. He raised a quizzical eyebrow at the sight and just as he had lowered it and taken another bite it was time to raise it again as she poured some of the liquid into Skall's flagon. He stumbled a second to get his own cup out and received his share with a nod. A slightly unsure "Thank you" was uttered and once the breton had moved past the imperial took in a whiff of the steam rising from his cup. It didn't smell bad, quite pleasant in fact, so he braved a sip of the liquid. Not too bad. Now that his concentration on his meal had been broken though, he followed the short exchange between Raelynn and Hector. He couldn't make out a single word, but it did seem like she was either flirting or passive aggressively complaining about something. Judging by Hector's face, it was the latter. He shrugged and turned back to his meal. None of his business.

He had barely managed to finish eating when the order to march on was sounded. He would have appreciated the chance to relieve his bladder, something unknowingly shared by the fellow proud former Stormcloak, but unlike him he could still hold for a fair amount of time. It was simply something he had learnt: Always take care of base needs before entering hazardous environment. But since they were busy, he decided to let the matter be for now. The grease that was on his face was wiped away into his hands, which were then wiped against his trousers. Gauntlets were donned, helmet shaken empty of anything that might have climbed or fallen in and placed on his head. He had everything he needed. The marching order was clear cut enough and he took his point at the back, giving a hopefully reassuring nod to the people of the back rank as he warmed up his shield arm.

In the tomb, the group were supposedly following the trail marked by the Khajiit, not even bothering to look around for valuables. A shame, for most nordic tombs were full of those that had once worshipped dragons and remained after as vile undead. There was no idea in leaving money behind for creatures like that when it could be better used to fund further righteous assaults on them, but it was not like they would be likely to find anything anyway. If he had his grasp on Khajiit correct, most would nick whatever shiny appeared before them as soon as nobody was looking. Perhaps Hector knew this too. Every now and then he thought he saw something glint in the pale light of the spell that illuminated the hallways they were passing through, but he could not be sure.

When it came to the traps and the markings left behind by their scout, Lord Vensor had to admit that there was nothing he could do to see them. Way too many people marched in front of him, so he simply chose to follow in their footsteps. If they had not triggered anything, he would not trigger anything. At one time most of them stopped to gawk at an axe in the wall, but he found it no point of major intrigue. Sure, it was in remarkably good shape for its age, but it was just another trap meant to end the existence of the poor sap who stepped into it. Had to be morbid curiosity driving the lot to do that. Yet as far as he cared, any trap that had not been triggered was a trap one should not trouble themselves about. It would lead to less nightmares about 'what if' situations. He had enough of those already.

The next room they marched into was peculiar in design. It looked like some sort of an arena with a dragon carved into the roof of it. Vensor stared at the dragon carving, biting his lip under his helmet. He had fought one of those creatures once. Peppered it with arrows from a distance, unsure if he was landing any hits at all, but also managed to avoid the brunt of the ice breathing creature's wrath. An experience he would rather forget. In that moment, he had been but an insect in the grand scheme of things. Helpless and insignificant. Feelings he would rather not experience again, but in this trade... he knew he was bound to encounter them again. He could only delay them for as long as possible.

And then the infernal racket began. He was immediately shaken from his thoughts and his hand grasped the handle of his axe. A quick turn was in order, his shielded arm guiding the others to move up towards the next door as he himself took a few steps back, the ranks rearranging themselves spontaneously around him. Hector called for him and Skall to join him, but... there was something off about one of the draugr. Lord Vensor was just about to shroud himself in an aura of Sun magic when the gust of something pushed through the room, sapping him of his magicka and plunging the arena into total darkness. Dammit. Not a good start.

When the torches flared to life, and the others attacked, he was left slightly behind. With over half of the back ranks already zipping through the enemies front rank, he decided to abandon the shreds of cohesion this plan had once held and hopped up a few steps of the stairs, seeking clear line of sight to the most threatening figure, which he indeed got. He crouched down, placing his shield and axe on the steps immediately to the back-left of him and drew his heavy bow from his back. An arrow was drawn and nocked, and aim was taken at the undead would-be commander wielding a greatsword in its cold, dead hands. "Abomination...", the Dawnguard veteran muttered to himself. The shot was clear. He let the arrow loose and prepared to back further if the situation required it while already moving to pull out another arrow.

The fate of the made shot could not have been clearer though. It flew straight into the draugr's shoulder, puncturing the withered flesh and tissue, as well as shattering most of the bone directly around the impact point. That strike had to have busted a joint... it would not be swinging that sword again soon, that much was for certain. He quickly assessed the development of the situation and found the prowess of his allies to be satisfactory. The enemy was losing quite a few of their 'men' while they had yet to take a real casualty. Excellent.

The Elder Scrolls: Swords & Septims

@Kassarock
Looks good to me! I'll be replying at my earliest convenience, likely tomorrow.

D&D 5e - The Lost Lands

With the giant axe-wielding shadow dispersing like the weakest of them, only serving to prove that no foe was too big for the Kingdom of Light, the templar began picking his new target post-haste. All that remained were the soldiers built of pure darkness, the footmen of the kingdom that stood for the antithesis of Light. And soon they would not stand either, not if he had an opportunity to say something about it.

There were three potential targets, Katia running from one to another, to leave the shadow she had been fighting behind in order to aid Haemar in his combat against another one of the same kind. With already two of his group taking that one down, it was as good as dead. No need to turn his crossbow on that. Then there was the one that didn't have anyone at it right now, a wild card that could easily disrupt the flow of battle... yet the last option had something that weighed on his decision more than anything else considered: It was threatening Thea.

The decision was made, he and the divine powers alike had their eyes on the target. Without further delay he placed a new bolt on the crossbow and sent it on its way towards the shadow, all signs pointing towards a straight shot into the nondescript black mass that was its body. As per usual, the shadow showed no immediate reaction, but it would only be a matter of time before it would disintegrate under the heroes' assault. Now or later, it would matter little. The Kingdom of Darkness would fall.

Mechanics&Rolls

If your position ain't bad, don't fix it. Theodore remains on the roof next to Wick and after setting his Slayer's Eye on the enemy in combat with Thea, they will fire a supporting shot. The attack roll for said shot is 22 which should break his string of missed shots. In case of a hit, the damage dealt would be 15.
HP: 35/35 AC: 16 Concentrating: Nothing
Radiant Consumption: Available
Slayer's Eye: On the Shadow Soldier in combat with Thea
War Priest: 0/2 uses expended

Spells expended:
1/1 Free Unique
2/3 1st

@The Harbinger of Ferocity - Birbin's turn

D&D 5e - High Seas and Tall Tales

The furious Beholder saw a certain modicum of sense in the response of the new blood, yet he could not let them off this easy. Not after what the had pulled. Besides, there was a slight inconsistency in his explanation, something Dyn chomped down on. "Riddle me this", he grumbled, "if one wants to remain cautious, is the plan to raise suspicion in the other party the best course of action?" The words flowing from his mouth were less venomous and more on the accusing tone now. His tentacles unfurled, spreading to his sides as he slid Tradewind out of their folds. But before they could go further, the jester arrived with her pink throne of condensed nonsense and forced themselves in between the two, not to break the brewing fight apart but to steal the stalker for herself.

Dyn was not happy about this change of events and a few of his tentacles immediately reached for Koan's throat. He was in the middle of something here and interruptions were not something he looked upon kindly. However, the drow proved just a wee bit too slippery for him as they had already twisted themselves to the other side of the fresh arrival. The Beholder groaned and murmured their protests, but instead of embarrassing himself by trying to pull the trickster off the other person he simply decided to see where this would go. With any luck, they would have a repeat of case Abbercroft and they'd be in the clear. No newcomer alive, no trouble at all. This was mostly wishful thinking though...

Wait, but what was that? Dyn almost could not believe his many eyeballs as he registered Koan cutting a wound into the man's skin and drawing blood for her shenanigans. While the third eye was still in its early stages in blooming, Dyn found himself actually approving of Koan's actions, as partial as that approval was. This was a rare occurrence. But past that, he lost interest in the fool's antics and instead followed the reaction of Sauron. And unfortunately enough, the man did not react with the expected disgust. A shame. He and Dyn would not be too likely to get along, unless the new blood was apt at following orders. He doubted that.

The situation developed further when Nemiea rushed to join the grapple and wrested the trickster away before things went too far. The Beholder was always up for seeing Koan put to her place... it was much too common of the drow to not realise when stopping would have been appropriate. A real source of headache, she was. But Sauron defended the clown's actions and Dyn slapped as many tentacles against his face as he could, murmuring a wholly audible protest: "Why does everyone that joins us find that insufferable-" which then turned to Deep Speech, his voice shifting with the language. The gargling, screeching and other unpleasant noises that always accompanied his 'normal' speech were suddenly gone. He spoke in his natural, sonorous voice again. Not that anyone could understand a sentence. But let it be known that the words meant nothing pleasant.

Once done with his tirade, he lowered his appendages and checked his surroundings more thoroughly, his body making a full 360 degree circle horizontally as his eyes scanned any- and everything nearby. Nothing stood out, thankfully. He made a single thrust with his tentacles behind himself to gain some speed, gliding through the water over to Nemiea's shoulder. He whispered into her ear, now once more in the common language with his hoarse and alien voice: "My sentiments as well."

@The Grey Dust@Gordian Nought@Zverda@JBRam2002

The Elder Scrolls: Swords & Septims

Is anyone else planning on posting in the next day or two? Happy to hold off and wait for a couple more before I do :)

@Stormflyx

I'll be posting as soon as I can, which should be in a couple of days indeed.