Sir Karl Mordrane Sularia (Jerrard)- Private Thread

[Jerrard]

Finding no path, Karl dismounts the Young Charger, calming him with a stroke of the mane he offers what little rations he carries, knowing that at least the meagre plie of carrots would suffice for now.

"This path is an ill one, truly an ill wind blows through this place. Wherever this place might be." Finding a place to secure the mount he lowers himself onto the ground, resting himself against the horses flank. Fingers reaching for the vials once more, "I best be in good shape to face the new day." taking one of the smaller vials he drinks the contents in one mouthful. Then, blade rested across his lap he waits for the dawn.

[TristenC]

Throughout the night, visions of the battle play over and over in the young man's dreams... The dying calls of his men, none more pained and desperate than those of Harrison as the fire took him... The face of the young girl as the creature slit her throat... each torment visited him countless times... until the day...


Sun crept down the canyon walls, illuminating a dusty red-clay canyon... Karl's armor sat uncomfortable from the poor approximation of sleep, though it was a familiar sensation after the years of late patrols with short chances to snatch rest between long watches... Bayard shifted behind him, working stiff muscles no doubt from the challenges of the night before. The small branch of canyon ended abruptly to the East, if the direction of the sun was any judge. Even so, there was something in the middle of the wide, flat space some hundred feet away or so... pole-stakes perhaps? And something lying amid them... Perhaps it was the light, or his eyes still adjusting to wakefulness, but there seemed to be two large rents in the canyon walls near that staked ground... one to the north wall, one to the south...

A narrow passage to the northwest looked like it opened up to an even larger section of canyon... and who knew what lay beyond...

===
Sir Karl drinks the Potion of Healing
Sir Karl potion [2d4+2] = 7+2 = 9 hps!
Sir Karl is upgraded from Hurt to Barely Scratched! [31/35 hps]


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XP Awards:
Sir Karl Mordrane Sularia Male Human Fighter (4) Cavalier Kit
[Current 13,000 xp]
Surviving “Skeletal Knight” [total HD > = 2x party HD: 1%/rnd]: 128 xp
“A Knight's Best Friend”: 60 xp (attention to Bayard, interactions with his steed, persistent element of the story)
Misc RP: 60 xp (care for men under his command, to see them buried properly, avenged, distrust of magic mult mention)
“...When Duty Calls”: 100 xp (character development, repeatedly facing extreme hazard for duty, honor. Transition to Ravenloft)
Subtotal: 348 xp (+10% high str) = 383 xp
Total 13,383 xp (16,000 TNL)


1 square = 10 feet
red circle on #5 shows the location of the stakes

[Jerrard]

Perhaps, he could save them? He reaches out, trying to change his actions, trying to force his own hand, yet each attempt ends up worse, the girl is brutalised, her innocence taken by the hands of the Beasts, Harrison Dismembered, the young Squire torn limb from limb..each time he fails.

Waking rapidly, his eyes darting open as she surveys the landscape, were these the signs of the enemy? Had they placed these here?

"What manner of place have we found ourselves?" Karl asks Bayard, doing what he can go ease the chargers weary muscles and aid his own. "We have no choice but to go on, yet either way seems equally foreboding."

Training, all he had left was training, and his oath, he would stick to his oath. 'My Honor is my life.' he repeats, drawing the blade, kissing the cold steel. He would go on. Whoever did this would pay at his hand. They would be avenged.

Opting to head to the north, away from the stakes, that he surmised would be behind, he wanted to Press on

[TristenC]

Sword drawn, Karl leads his mount forward through the passage... High overhead ravens soar, in the distance and one nearby; but his attention is quickly drawn away from that... The passage opens into a much wider canyon area, many times larger than the small boxed-in section he just left.

The center of the space is absolutely dominated by A four story ziggurat of adobe topped with a large raven statue rising some 50' upwards and facing the southeast wall just to the right from where he emerges. The raven's head stands so high as to be even with the tops of the canyon walls. With a scratching sound, like the grinding of bones in a grist mill, the raven begins to rotate until its gemstone eyes come to fully face the party. At the heart of each eye glimmers a menacing light; rife with the of unavoidable dread that seeps into the soul.

Turning his gaze to where the statue looked away from, he sees a strange assembly of people! A pair of apparent gypsies lead the pack of at least 9 people. The gypsy man and woman, approximately his age and dark of hair and eye, bear a passing family resemblance to each other and each lead a horse of their own. The lady is lithe and her movements suggest she knows well how to use the rapier at her belt. The man is burly and stocky, with powerful arms and a formidable looking hammer at his side. Behind them follows a redheaded woman with a sword at her belt and a lute on her back. Beside the redhead moves what he suspects to be a young woman, though she is hardly 4 feet in height. Her soft face might have led him to count her a juvenile, but the chainmail, mace and shield she bore suggested otherwise.

Farther into the group a pair of young robed adults, one a blond woman with a mace and the other a long, dark-haired man with no visible weapons aside from a sling, spoke quietly with each other. Far in the back another pair of robed figures walked. The first with shock-white hair and angular features, rather like a Silvanesti elf, and the other might have been of elven descent as well. Unlike his counterpart this one bore both sword and bow.... Bringing up the rear, a redheaded man with a full beard that had the look of a woodsman followed; keeping watch. The group notices him almost the same moment he sees them, aside for the dusky-hued fighter woman in the fore... her eyes were already on his before he turned...

[Pictures for the characters are in the "Cast of Victims" thread, and the NPCs (Elsa, Merrick, Adrestia) are in the "Acquired Party Knowledge" thread]
[On to the main thread for you now Hope you enjoy!]
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Each tier of the ziggurat is 10' high and the landings are 10' wide.
There is no obvious stair to ascend the structure

[TristenC]

===
Can i get a PPDM save from Sir Karl at +4 please?

[Jerrard]

Saving Throw [1d20] = 13 passed easily

[TristenC]

for sir karl's specialization he gets 2 attacks this round i believe. so if you like please roll a second attack

[TristenC]

"I think not!" Karl swings the blade, as hard as he can muster, attempting to block further attacks on the pretty Cleric, and aid Mira in her task.

[1d20] = 13 ThaCo 15 [1d8+3] = 2+3 = 5

i take this to mean Sir Karl is using his attack to parry the hag's melee attack, or to strike her if she does not attack?

[Jerrard]

He will defend against her attack, unless on the unlikely event she doesn't strike.

[TristenC]

Sir Karl is on the edge of the bridge and holding Pyros as the tower platform collapses. There is a rope nearby and the sticky webby bridge is swinging down as well. What would his gut-reaction/action be?

[Jerrard]

Can he see any way to get Pyros to safety? That would be his drive, he would sacrifice himself to save another, even a Kender.

[TristenC]

===
A couple of options spring to mind in the current situation:
-The webbing has proven secure, he could attach pyros to it simply by mushing him into the magical webs outside of where the bone-trail has been established
-Endeavor to press both himself and Pyros into the webs to disrupt their fall.
-Attempt to grab the rope with one hand, shifting Pyros to one shoulder in the process
-Other options not listed here you might come up with to slow their descend [I do try to encourage this as a creative gaming experience, after all ]

[Jerrard]

Thanks, that was far more than I was asking! A simple 'Yes" would have been enough.

[Jerrard]

The reaction was instinctive, without thinking of his own safety Karl wedges the Kenders unconscious body on the magical webbing he distrusted so much, he daren't touch the rope, lest he overload it.. With a silent Prayer he places his safety in his gods hands and allows himself to fall.

[TristenC]

The bridge pulls at him slightly as it begins to fall, and stretches as the heavy remnants of bone from the platform elongate the span. In a last-ditch effort, he shoves Pyros towards the webbing.

Mist envelops them almost immediately, and he cannot even be sure if his final attempt to save the Kender was successful or not... Sir Karl Mordrane Sularia, Knight of the Sword, Defender of Palanthas, Commander of the 7th Contingent, fell...

Sounds above him drifted away rapidly as the weightlessness of the fall took him. An almost eerie glow surrounded him, like passing through a cloud. Strange the things one noticed in a moment like this; the white vapor damp against his skin... the way the air moved across his face...
And the moment stretched...
and stretched...
until...

until several moments passed... and... nothing?
No ground rushed to meet him.
No obstacle blocked his downward path
No water or webbing or net or other impossible thing lay below, only more mists.

At the edge of his limited vision he saw something in the mists. A large bone, splintered and broken, that tumbled still; just as he did. And to the other side... was that... the Web! The web bridge lay just in view! Yet unlike he, it wasn't moving!!! Unless... unless he wasn't moving either...

It dangled, stuck to the cavern wall and out of reach by twice the height of a man... No sign of his companions could be seen from the small amount he could make out through the mist, but large chunks of bone stuck to it had obviously pulled and stretched it considerably...