(19:16:24) DM: Roll call! (19:16:34) Foster: Doooooom! (19:16:56) Erias: Quaaaake! (19:17:42) Fordran: Neeeerf! (19:18:06) ***DM nods. (19:18:54) tnalpgge is now known as Sam (19:19:11) Sam: uh, lemmings? (19:20:36) DM: Foster and Erias have been gone for hours. The strange noises in the basement have abated, for now, and Grith is snoring quietly (for him) on a couch in the living room. Vita went out for some fresh air an hour or so ago. (19:22:14) DM: What are you doing, Fordran, Sam? (19:23:04) Fordran: (what time is it?) (19:23:07) Sam: (searching for context!) (19:23:58) DM: It's late afternoon, about to be early evening. (19:24:19) Fordran: "Erias and Foster sure have been gone a while." (19:24:26) DM: This morning, you went to discuss terms with Mr. Toomey & Sons. (19:25:31) Sam: (right, something about a door.) (19:26:26) Fordran: (door to be finished in the coming days, yes?) (19:26:30) Fiona [www@firebat.DaveDawn.NET] entered the room. (19:27:15) Sam: (and a lock) (19:27:55) DM: (Right) (19:28:01) DM: (And the price tag of 200 gold) (19:29:43) Sam: (um, yes, well, bumming around the house i guess, hoping nobody steals the goods...?) (19:30:54) ***Fordran goes to check on Apol, if the odd sounds stop. (19:30:59) DM: Very well. It's early evening before Vita and Pup climb around the ruined door-slash-barricade, waking Grith from his nap. (19:32:22) DM: Apol is curled atop a modest pile of gold and jewels, behind a crazed mobile of chains, cords, and sharp objects. (19:33:16) DM: You hear the sound of hooves sedately clopping towards the house on the cobblestones. (19:33:40) ***Sam tries to peek outside in the direction of the hoofbeats, without being too obvious about it. (19:35:05) ***Fordran goes back upstairs, notices Sam looking out. (19:35:11) Fordran: "Hm? What's this?" (19:35:59) Sam: (quietly) "A horse approaches." (19:36:08) Sam: (master of the obvious, etc.) (19:37:05) DM: It's Erias and Foster, on a pair of bored-looking horses. (19:37:49) Fordran: "Ah, thank Pelor." (19:37:56) ***Fordran steps outside. "Welcome back." (19:38:09) ***Foster waves. (19:38:12) Foster: "Greetings" (19:38:16) Erias: "Hi." (19:38:30) Erias: "Any new developments while we were away?" (19:38:32) DM: Foster's wearing a new crystal around his neck. (19:39:01) Sam: "Apol has attempted to build some sort of dangerous hanging contraption." (19:39:47) ***Erias swings down from the bored-looking horse. (19:40:00) Fordran: "Nice necklace, Foster. Goes with your tunic." (19:40:21) ***Erias ties the horse to... something. (19:40:51) Erias: "I suppose having a pet dragon to guard our treasure isn't a bad thing." (19:42:19) DM: Erias' horse begins munching on a shrubbery by the door. (19:42:23) Foster: "Ally. Pets don't get a share of the treasure." (19:42:28) Erias: "Point." (19:42:59) DM: It's getting dim. Spot and Listen checks. (19:43:07) Erias: "Any news on the door and lock? Once we've fortified, we can get started on..." (19:43:22) Erias: |roll d20+6 (19:43:23) tafal: 18 | [d20=12] [+6=6] (Erias) (19:43:23) Fordran: (spot) (19:43:24) Erias: |roll d20+6 (19:43:24) tafal: 8 | [d20=2] [+6=6] (Erias) (19:43:25) Fordran: |roll d20+_ (19:43:25) tafal: incorrect usage: dice <string> (where <string> is something like: d6 or 2d6 or 2d6+4 or 2d6+1d20 or 2d6+1d5+4d7-3d4-6) => Rolls that set of virtual dice (19:43:27) Fordran: |roll d20+3 (19:43:27) tafal: 20 | [d20=17] [+3=3] (Fordran) (19:43:29) Fordran: (listen) (19:43:31) Foster: |roll d20+11 (19:43:31) tafal: 25 | [d20=14] [+11=11] (Foster) (19:43:32) Fordran: |roll d20+3 (19:43:32) tafal: 5 | [d20=2] [+3=3] (Fordran) (19:43:34) Foster: |roll d20+7 (19:43:35) tafal: 9 | [d20=2] [+7=7] (Foster) (19:44:34) DM: The three of you notice a trio of young peasants attempting to spy on your conversation without being noticed. (19:44:45) ***Erias pauses in midsentence, as he notices them. (19:44:58) DM: You recognize Clynwych from earlier. (19:45:11) DM: (aka "Clogs") (19:45:12) Erias: "...our next bit of business." (19:46:02) ***Fordran waves pleasantly at Clynwych. (19:46:07) Fordran: (damn you, randolph) (19:46:16) DM: He goes, "Eep!" and they dive behind a corner. (19:46:29) Erias: "Have they been doing that a lot?" (19:46:31) Fordran: "What an odd fellow." (19:47:26) Sam: (uugh, fanboi) (19:47:35) Fordran: "First time we've noticed them today, but to be honest, we haven't been looking." (19:47:43) ***Fordran heads over to where Clogs went "Eep." (19:48:00) Fordran: "Cly... er... Clogs? Is that you?" (19:48:02) ***Erias follows at a leisurely pace. (19:48:21) ***Sam just looks in that direction. (19:48:26) ***Foster grabs his pack and returns to the house, where he begins tidying up again. (19:49:13) DM: (Clogs) "Er, yes, sir?" (19:49:39) Fordran: "Why did you hide from us?" (19:49:58) DM: (in a very small voice) "..'unno..." (19:50:51) ***Fordran sighs. (19:50:57) ***Sam stares plainly at Clogs now. (19:51:07) Fordran: "Well. See anything interesting today?" (19:51:27) DM: "Ummm... Ummm..." (19:51:47) DM: The less-dirty one behind him pipes up, "Saw a three-eyed fish today!" (19:52:31) ***Erias shrugs and walks back to his horse. (19:52:59) DM: They fidget a lot as you look on. (19:53:00) Sam: "You are doomed." (19:53:09) DM: He looks panicked. (19:53:28) ***Erias pulls his pack off his horse and heads inside. (19:53:33) ***Fordran stifles a chuckle. (19:53:39) ***Sam pretends to go about his business. (19:54:16) Foster: (you know, thinking about it, I think I find an appropriate place to park my horse before returning to the house) (19:54:20) DM: After a moment of shock, he goes down on his knees, clutching Fordran's shirt. "Save me!" (19:54:38) DM: Clynwych and the boy with the bowl-cut back away slightly in horror. (19:54:59) Sam: (it's a folding horse, like they have on the jetsons.) (19:55:05) Foster: (Bad Sam! No scaring the townies with cryptic statements!) (19:55:44) ***Fordran laughs. "You're not doomed, lad." (19:55:45) Sam: (awww, but daaaad....) (19:55:50) DM: (peasant boy) "Please! *blubber* I hafta take care of my ma!" (19:56:09) DM: (peasant boy) "I don't wanna be doo-- huh?" (19:56:54) DM: Bowl-cut chuckles nervously once, then falls silent, looking worried. (19:58:06) ***Erias puts away his gear. Aside from the gear he keeps on him. Which is most of it, honestly. Adventurers are paranoid. (19:58:09) ***Fordran looks around for Actual Threats, then turns back to the fanbois. (19:58:32) Fordran: "Well, we've got... things... to do, so... keep an eye out for anything unusual, all right?" (19:58:32) Sam: "Perhaps the rest of you could introduce yourselves." (19:58:45) Fordran: (i'll let Sam's line go first) (19:59:11) DM: (Bowl-cut) "I'm M-m-morry. Dole's the doomed one." (20:00:01) DM: Clynwych tugs Dole's hands free of Fordran's tunic and pulls the both of them back a step. (20:00:32) DM: (Clynwych) "We'll keep a good watch out, Sir Fordran." (20:00:37) DM: He sketches a ridiculous salute. (20:01:03) DM: The other two mumble something unintelligible and sketch a ridiculous imitation of his salute, and they run off. (20:01:13) ***Sam smirks. (20:01:36) Fordran: "Fame isn't all it's cracked up to be, Sam." (20:02:16) DM: (Man's voice) "Ah, but it attracts the adoration of youths and the attention of Gods, does it not?" (20:02:29) Sam: "Let them be sca--" (20:02:41) ***Sam looks over. (20:03:17) ***Fordran turns. (20:03:26) DM: Turning towards the voice, you see an elderly gentleman walking towards you, struggling under the weight of a rather large satchel. (20:04:02) Fordran: "Good afternoon, sir. Here, let me help you with that." (20:04:09) DM: He's wearing loose brown robes and spectacles. (20:04:11) ***Fordran offers to help carry the load. (20:04:15) ***Sam shuts up. (20:04:38) DM: "Oh, no, it's quite alright, let me just set this down a bit." He lets out a breath as he lowers the satchel. (20:04:54) DM: He arches his back a bit, and you hear a *crick*. (20:05:38) ***Fordran winces. (20:06:15) DM: He sighs in relief. (20:06:30) DM: Nudging up his spectacles, he looks the two of you up and down. (20:06:42) ***Erias approaches from the arbitrary compass direction, and catches sight of the visitor. (20:06:57) DM: "The Heroes of Threecrown, hmm? Ah, and there's another." (20:07:11) DM: He begins patting his robe for something. (20:07:17) Erias: "Plenty of heroes around, it seems, sir." (20:07:24) ***Erias joins the other two. (20:07:33) ***Sam mumbles to Fordran, "This is not a problem I had back home." (20:07:36) DM: He looks between Erias and Fordran. (20:07:41) Fordran: "'Hero' is a strong term, sir. I am but a servant of Pelor, Fordran is my name." (20:08:20) DM: "And so polite! Oh! Excuse my manners. I am a traveling historian, my name is Fren." (20:08:29) DM: He gives a slight bow, with a grimace at the end. (20:09:46) Erias: "I am Erias, slayer of demons and so forth. Would you like to come in?" (20:10:00) DM: He finds his quill, and gestures with it at his satchel on the cobblestones, "My passion and my livelihood. So you see, it is a burden I am all too happy to carry." His eyes twinkle. (20:10:33) DM: He laughs at Erias' comment. "Thank you, yes, please!' (20:10:40) ***Erias blinks as the conversation catches up with him. "Historian?" (20:10:43) DM: *hrrrrngk* (20:10:50) DM: He lifts the satchel back over his shoulder. (20:10:57) Fordran: "Here, let me take that." (20:11:06) ***Erias walks to the door, picks it up, and moves it to the side. (20:11:07) ***Fordran re-offers to take the satchel. (20:11:12) DM: "Oh, no I couldn't possibly." (20:11:54) Fordran: "It's no trouble, sir." (20:12:47) ***Erias steps inside and goes to find some tea. (20:12:51) DM: (louder, to Erias, who's a few paces ahead) "Yes! To preserve for posterity great events and great people. To bear witness to the turning of the ages." (20:12:57) ***Erias slows. (20:13:21) DM: (to Fordran) "Well, alright, just for a moment..." (20:13:36) DM: He hands over his satchel (~60 lbs) (20:13:48) ***Sam looks perplexed at what to think of the old man. (20:14:00) Fordran: "Mmmf." (20:14:05) DM: (to self, scribbling) "... bear... witness... to.... mmm-hmmm.... There." (20:14:31) ***Fordran moves along, slightly encumbered (if he's not wearing his armor). (20:16:03) Erias: (I assume we head in, sit down, have some tea and non-iron rations.) (20:16:21) DM: (to Fordran) "Ah, thank you, Fordran, just inside the door is fine." (20:16:38) DM: He looks at the broken door curiously as he enters. (20:17:01) DM: "So your goliath-man is as fierce as they say... mmmm." (20:17:03) ***Fordran hefts the satchel just inside the door. (20:17:24) Sam: "I wouldn't want to cross him." (20:17:31) Fordran: "You must be in good shape to walk around with that pack, Fren." (20:18:20) DM: "I generally leave it at an inn, or travel by cart, rarely bringing as much of that as I can carry." (20:19:06) DM: "Today, I could not decide which cross-references I would require, so I brought all that I imagined might even remotely be relevant." (20:19:33) DM: He accepts tea from Erias. "Ah, thank you." (20:19:43) ***Erias nods. "Relevant to what?" (20:20:15) Fordran: "Ah. So it's filled with books?" (20:20:18) DM: He blows across the teacup. "Why, you of course! All of you. Making, no! Living history." (20:20:34) DM: (to Fordran) "Quite so, my constant companions." (20:21:12) ***Erias smiles. "Everyone makes history." (20:21:21) DM: "Ah, but I've gotten ahead of myself." He stands up. (20:22:21) DM: "It is my sincerest wish, if it pleases you, to chronicle the momentous events that you have lived through and helped to shape, as well as those to come." (20:23:14) DM: He waits expectantly, looking at your expressions. (20:23:40) Fordran: "Ah. Interesting. So you wish to hear our stories?" (20:23:42) ***Erias looks relatively blank. (20:24:16) ***Sam is clearly unsure of how to react. (20:24:19) DM: "Yes, exactly. And to record them for the generations to come." (20:25:52) Erias: "I'm willing, but some of the details may need to wait. I assume you wish to share these stories, and there are those who might seek to harm us if they knew everything." (20:26:23) Fordran: "That is true. We have made our share of powerful enemies." (20:26:29) DM: "Oh, I quite understand. I give my solemn pledge not to publish until granted explicit permission." (20:28:16) ***Erias glances at the others. (20:28:20) ***Fordran shrugs. (20:28:30) Erias: "Sounds like resounding approval." (20:28:47) Erias: (Assuming we're going to regale him, do we want to handwave that?) (20:28:51) DM: He coughs a bit, looking embarassed. (20:29:32) Sam: (eh, why not.) (20:30:03) DM: "Oh, no. We can hold these interviews at your leisure. If convenient, I could even follow along and chronicle events as they come to pass!" (20:30:06) Fordran: (handwavitude!) (20:31:23) ***Erias sizes him up. (20:31:33) Fordran: "We should warn you -- our... "adventures," as you call them are often quite dangerous. (20:31:35) Erias: (elderly, non-adventurer?) (20:31:35) Fordran: " (20:32:23) DM: (Elderly, dressed in travel-stained clothing) (20:32:30) DM: (Well, not geriatric) (20:32:51) DM: (Looks a spry mid-50s) (20:33:39) DM: (to Fordran) "I quite understand, and will stay far out of harm's way when possible, and remain behind when not." (20:34:05) DM: "I chronicled two manticore hunts and a wyvern-slaying once, you know." (20:34:58) ***Fordran raises an eyebrow. (20:36:16) ***Erias shrugs. (20:36:31) DM: (at Fordran's expression) "Yes, it was for 'On the Sport of Monsters in the Upper Flannaes.'" (20:37:10) ***Sam doesn't ask what a Flannaes is. (20:37:25) Erias: "Up to the rest of you. I'm fine with it. If he's trouble, we leave him behind, and if he gets himself killed, that's his lookout." (20:37:42) ***Fordran looks at Erias with a cross expression. (20:37:59) DM: He coughs in embarassment. (20:38:04) Fordran: "If you'll excuse Erias'... rudeness, Fren." (20:38:15) Sam: "How likely are you to be an impediment?" (20:38:18) DM: "No, no, it's quite alright." (20:39:02) DM: (to Sam) "Let me know if ever I become so, and I will make it my highest endeavor to cease." (20:39:59) Sam: "Not unreasonable. (20:40:34) DM: (to Fordran) "And, as Erias pointed out, this arrangement is purely by your leave, and no contract binds you to it, should it become undesirable." (20:41:32) ***Fordran nods. "We shall do our best to keep you safe, as the circumstances permit. Or, at least..." Fordran looks pointedly at Erias. "...At least, I will keep an eye for you." (20:42:01) DM: "I have no desire to *interfere*, you understand; that would be the greatest sin to those of my profession." (20:42:22) Erias: "Oh, I'll do what I can. I just want things clear." (20:42:31) ***Erias looks at Fren. (20:42:39) Erias: "It really would, wouldn't it?" (20:42:57) DM: He looks a bit flustered. (20:43:31) Erias: "It's alright. There'll be time for stories later." (20:44:12) DM: "Thank you, it is a great honor." He beams. (20:44:29) DM: He downs the rest of his tea. (20:44:38) DM: "Well, I've troubled you enough for one evening..." (20:44:53) DM: "Any recommendations on lodgings in the area?" (20:45:16) DM: He stands up and shuffles next to the door and his satchel. (20:45:36) Fordran: "You can stay in my bed tonight, if you wish. The couch is perfectly serviceable for me." (20:45:56) DM: He flushes. (20:46:08) DM: "Oh, no, I really couldn't possibly." (20:46:48) Fordran: "I would be remiss in my duties to Pelor were I not to help provide you with assistance." (20:47:04) Erias: "You said that about the satchel, and he demonstrated that he could... you might just want to take it on faith." (20:47:25) DM: "..." (20:47:38) DM: "Well... I..." (20:47:44) DM: He's really struggling with this. (20:48:03) DM: "*I* shall take the couch then, it's already imposing so much." (20:49:52) Fordran: "My offer still stands, if you find the couch uncomfortable." (20:50:01) DM: He bends over his satchel, and as he does so, the leaning door explodes inwards, swatting him into the living room, prone. (20:51:07) DM: A cloaked and hooded figure is visible just outside the door frame, leaning on a black crystal greatsword for support, one hand palm-out towards the doorway. (20:51:17) ***Fordran tries to obtain a fighting stance as quickly as initiative allows. (20:51:23) DM: The figure falls over. (20:51:43) DM: The sword clatters to the floor. (20:51:51) DM: Feel free to go, no init. (20:51:54) ***Erias moves as soon as cutscene -- ah. (20:51:57) ***Fordran looks at the two prone figures in confusion for a second. (20:52:11) ***Erias runs toward the door & new figure. (20:52:16) ***Fordran points to the cloaked figure. "Check him for weapons!" (20:52:22) ***Fordran goes over to Fren. (20:52:23) DM: Erias, spot. (20:52:26) DM: Fordran, heal (20:52:34) Erias: |roll d20+6 (20:52:34) tafal: 7 | [d20=1] [+6=6] (Erias) (20:52:43) Fordran: |roll d20+13 (20:52:43) tafal: 28 | [d20=15] [+13=13] (Fordran) (20:53:12) Erias: ( * Erias searches desperately for the doorway. "It was here a minute ago!") (20:53:33) ***Erias is actually continuing straight past the figure, stopping just outside the door, and looking around quickly. (20:53:40) ***Sam adopts an alert stance. (20:54:06) ***Fordran performs a quick Cure Light Wounds on Fren. (20:54:13) ***Erias steps back in. (20:54:21) Fordran: |roll d8+5+2 (20:54:21) tafal: 11 | [d8=4] [+5=5] [+2=2] (Fordran) (20:54:54) ***Erias puts his hands on the figure, pauses, and then curses briefly. (20:55:29) Erias: "Fordran, we may need healing here as well." (20:55:35) DM: (Fren) "Oooogh." (20:55:43) Fordran: "Easy, Fren." (20:55:45) Erias: "Covered in bandages... and... soaking wet...?" (20:55:51) ***Fordran gets up and goes to Cloaked Dude. (20:55:54) DM: (Fren) "I'll... just lie here... for a moment..." (20:56:01) Fordran: (/me takes out his Tricorder.) (20:56:18) DM: Upon closer inspection, the figure is a woman. (20:56:20) ***Erias draws back in shock. (20:56:29) DM: Long, brown matted hair streams out from the hood. (20:56:34) Erias: "It's... she... she made it out..." (20:56:57) ***Fordran also CLW's the Cloaked Chick. (20:57:01) Fordran: |roll d8+5+2 (20:57:01) tafal: 10 | [d8=3] [+5=5] [+2=2] (Fordran) (20:57:14) Sam: (wondering what the Common equivalent of "oy vay" is) (20:57:14) DM: Still unconscious. (20:57:33) Fordran: "I've stabilized her, but she's still out." (20:57:41) Erias: "Okay." (20:57:55) Fordran: "Help me get her on the couch." (20:57:58) ***Erias picks her up carefully and finds somewhere (on a carpet, couch, etc) (20:57:59) Erias: ...heh. (20:58:05) ***Erias helps Fordran move her to the couch. (20:58:12) Sam: (cough) (20:58:22) DM: Anywhere you touch her is very damp (20:58:22) Fordran: (cough) (20:58:46) DM: The bandages squelch a bit in your grip (20:58:52) Fordran: "Odd. It's not raining outside..." (20:59:00) Erias: "She was underwater." (20:59:13) Erias: "I don't know how in the hells she got here, but she was trapped in the base." (20:59:30) ***Erias gingerly tries to unwrap a bit of bandage from her hand. (20:59:43) DM: There's blood and a viscous mucous on the inside of the bandage. (20:59:49) ***Erias stops. (20:59:59) DM: The bit of flesh you expose looks slightly transparent and clammy. (21:00:23) Erias: "This is beyond anything I know of..." (21:00:38) DM: Fren groans, getting to his feet, and, seeing the figure on the couch, scrambles for a notebook and his quill. (21:00:46) DM: You hear him scribbling. (21:00:55) ***Fordran checks the bandages. (21:01:02) Erias: "Hey Fren! Know anything about... this...? These symptoms?" (21:01:06) Fordran: "Trapped in the base? By the Grey?" (21:01:22) DM: |roll d20+9 (21:01:22) tafal: 28 | [d20=19] [+9=9] (DM) (21:01:35) Erias: "Well, we left her in a cell, and then we were gone when the base was compromised..." (21:01:38) DM: (Fren) "What are the symptoms?" (21:02:23) Erias: "Unconscious, entire body wrapped in bandages, soaking wet, bandages are a bit bloody and sticky all over." (21:02:26) Fordran: "The skin under the bandages... very strange." (21:02:46) Erias: "Sort of... looks like a sea creature. A little bit see-through." (21:02:51) DM: Fren mouths the words back to himself. (21:02:58) DM: "Sea creature...?" (21:03:03) DM: He begins digging through his satchel. (21:03:19) DM: *flip flip flip* (21:03:38) DM: "Does the skin feel slimy?" (21:04:08) DM: (yes) (21:04:12) Erias: "Yes." (21:04:26) DM: "... oh dear..." (21:04:35) Fordran: "That doesn't sound promising..." (21:04:40) DM: "Do you know this person?" (21:04:49) Erias: "...yes. I think so." (21:05:11) DM: "Or is there something, an aquatic creature, known as an "aboleth" in the vicinity?" (21:05:21) ***Erias 's eyes widen. (21:05:24) Erias: "Oh, hells..." (21:05:43) DM: "Er..." *flip flip flip* (21:06:12) ***Fordran shifts uncomfortably. (21:06:13) ***Erias calls out, "Foster, are you here?" (21:06:38) Foster: You hear thumping from above. (21:06:47) DM: (Fren, reading) "Ahem. 'Submerge the victim in cool, fresh water." (21:07:12) ***Erias looks around. (We probably don't have a bath, do we?) (21:07:15) DM: (You do) (21:07:33) Foster: "Yes?" (21:07:33) DM: The door to the bath is closed. (21:07:45) ***Foster appears at the top of the stairs. (21:07:59) Erias: "Sam, could you fill the bath, please? The water's... well, it's close to fresh." (21:08:08) Erias: "Foster... uh." (21:08:17) ***Foster looks around. (21:08:20) Erias: "Dianarra got something'd by an aboleth. Can we help her?" (21:08:27) DM: There's a damp, bandaged figure on the couch. (21:08:31) ***Sam attends to the filling of the bath. (21:08:39) Erias: (Not to, you know, bludgeon you with abrupt information.) (21:08:50) DM: There's an older stranger poring through books nearby. (21:09:04) ***Fordran looks back at Dianarra, now recognizing her despite her state. (21:09:10) DM: When you go to open the bath, Grith's voice bellows, "OCCUPIED!" (21:09:38) Erias: "Grith, hurry it up, or one of our enemies is going to die!" (21:09:41) Erias: "...wait." (21:09:42) ***Sam shouts back "EMERGENCY" without closing the door. (21:09:55) Foster: "Hrm. Let me think." (21:09:55) Erias: "Ignore that last bit!" (21:10:01) DM: (Grith) "What? Oh for... GIMME A SECOND!" (21:10:32) DM: Grith is clomps out looking displeased, then clomps hurriedly outside. (21:10:55) DM: Sam, you manage to fill the bath in short order. (21:11:07) Sam: "READY." (21:12:07) ***Erias picks up Dianarra (with Fordran's help, most likely) and carries her to the bath. (21:12:26) Fordran: (ew, she's squidgy) (21:12:36) DM: *squelch squelch* (21:13:25) DM: As you carry her, droplets of water drop to the floor, tinged pink. (21:13:43) DM: You slide her into the bath. (21:14:02) ***Foster follows into the room, tapping his forehead. (21:14:19) Foster: "I think I know what happened, given the circumstances." (21:14:58) DM: You hear the sound of scribbling from the common room. (21:15:02) Fordran: "Please enlighten us." (21:15:12) Foster: "She must've encountered the aboleth in the prison block when the facility began to collapse, or afterwards, and been struck by one of its tentacles." (21:15:21) Sam: (eeww) (21:15:28) Foster: "The unlucky, and those of frail constitution, are prone to..." (21:15:29) Erias: (quietly) "She might need a bit more healing, as well." (21:15:35) ***Foster trails off, turns to Fren. (21:15:46) Foster: "I'm sorry, have we met? I'm Foster." (21:15:51) DM: Fren looks up when the talking stops. (21:16:05) DM: (Fren) "Oh! Yes. I mean, no." (21:16:16) DM: Puts his parchment aside carefully before standing up. (21:16:31) DM: "My name is Fren, I am a traveling historian." (21:16:45) DM: He gestures with his quill. (21:16:46) ***Fordran applies another CLW for good measure. (21:16:47) Foster: "Ah. A noble profession. I've dabbled in that a bit, myself." (21:16:47) Erias: "He seems relatively harmless." (21:16:53) DM: "Please, continue, this is fascinating." (21:16:57) Fordran: |roll d20+5+2 (21:16:57) tafal: 21 | [d20=14] [+5=5] [+2=2] (Fordran) (21:17:00) Foster: "Yes, we'll talk later." (21:17:14) ***Foster turns back to the group. (21:17:19) DM: Dianarra twitches upright in the bath with a gasp. (21:17:30) Foster: "As I was saying, the unlucky and those prone to..." (21:17:33) DM: She begins to cough and splutter. (21:17:35) ***Foster trails off again. (21:17:36) Fordran: "Rest easy, Dianarra." (21:18:05) DM: (Dianarra) "You! What've you done with my...!" *she stops, looking around* (21:18:05) ***Erias steps back a pace. (21:18:21) DM: *scritch scritch scritch* from the common room again (21:18:30) ***Sam stands, looks. (21:18:44) DM: Sam, just Fren, taking notes (21:18:45) Sam: (at Dianarra) (21:18:50) Foster: "Hello again, Dianarra." (21:19:00) Sam: (but...i was...bath...meh, whatever) (21:19:01) DM: Dianarra's voice is a bit garbled, sounds phlegmy. (21:19:02) Erias: "...your sword? I'll fetch it, if you like." (21:19:22) DM: Dianarra waves you off. "No, no. It's alright..." (21:19:33) Foster: "You'll have to forgive me for being monstrous at you for the moment, but as I was about to say, I think I know how to cure your current affliction." (21:19:58) DM: She half-glares/half-squints at Foster for a beat. (21:20:12) DM: Her eyes drop. "Please." (21:20:24) Foster: "How long ago did the transformation start?" (21:20:48) DM: (Dianarra) "When it broke free." (21:21:36) Foster: "Ah." (21:22:20) DM: (Dianarra) "I've lost track of how long ago that was. I can't remain outside of its lair long without collapsing." (21:22:58) Fordran: "What exactly is happening to her, Foster?" (21:23:01) Erias: "It's been... a couple of weeks, I think." (21:23:13) Foster: "Frequent immersion in cool, fresh water should prevent you from collapsing, at least." (21:23:33) DM: "Yes, as much a cage as the other." (21:24:05) Foster: To Fordran: "The touch of an aboleth's tentacle will sometimes provoke a transformation. Once completed, it can only be cured by powerful healing magics." (21:24:50) ***Fordran thinks about this. "How powerful?" (21:25:33) Foster: "Hm..." (21:25:48) DM: (Goddamn RAW-to-metagame-to-roleplay non-interaction) (21:26:38) Foster: "More numerically-oriented thaumatologists would probably rate it as a minimum 6th degree invocation." (21:26:46) ***Fordran whistles. (21:27:48) ***Sam pretends to understand. (21:29:13) Fordran: "Where do we find someone trained enough to cure her? (21:29:13) DM: (Dianarra) "Can you do it? *grits teeth* I can't wait to go and... obey..." *she grits her teeth again* "Graaah." (21:29:14) Fordran: " (21:29:41) DM: She bonks her head, hard, on the wall. (21:29:56) Fordran: "Dianarra...?" (21:30:28) DM: (Dianarra) "Toying. It's toying with me." (21:30:34) ***Sam winces a bit. (21:30:53) Foster: "Fordran, are you capable of removing curses? I believe that would prevent it from gaining control of her again." (21:31:14) Erias: "Would you really give in, and give up hope of revenge?" (21:31:17) ***Erias smiles faintly. (21:31:28) DM: She glares, hard, at Erias. (21:31:38) DM: She stands up in the bath, defiant. (21:31:49) Fordran: "Unfortunately, no. I have not mastered that particular ability." (21:31:58) ***Fordran moves back a little when she stands. (21:32:14) ***Erias holds her gaze as well as he can. (21:32:17) Foster: "Any spell that prevents creatures from exerting mental control over another would suffice, at least temporarily." (21:32:36) DM: (Dianarra) "I swear, upon the souls of my parents, that if you break these geases upon me, that I may avenge myself on this vile aberration... I will give up my vendetta and trouble you no more." (21:32:45) Fordran: "Hm. I can ward her from possession by evil creatures for a while." (21:32:59) Fordran: "Is that sufficient?" (21:33:03) Foster: "Worth a try." (21:33:08) Erias: "Pelor's sake, I wasn't asking for that. I was just trying to get you angry enough that you'd have the strength to resist it." (21:33:15) Erias: "We're helping you either way." (21:33:20) DM: (heheh) (21:33:29) DM: She glares at you some more. (21:33:52) Erias: "If this were a week ago, I'd have a few tricks I could use, but... alas." (21:33:58) Sam: (keep glaring, D, keep glaring.) (21:35:22) Fordran: "The protection will only be for a few minutes, Foster. Will that be helpful at all?" (21:35:32) Foster: "It will at least give us time to think." (21:35:38) Fordran: "Fair enough." (21:35:41) Erias: "We need to find greater magic. But yes, let's do this for now." (21:35:46) ***Fordran Protects Dianarra from Evil. (21:36:01) DM: Dianarra holds her breath. (21:36:26) DM: She looks around the room a bit, taps her head with an index finger. (21:36:31) Fordran: "There. At least for a little while, you should be safe." (21:36:55) Erias: |roll d20+8 (21:36:55) tafal: 18 | [d20=10] [+8=8] (Erias) (21:36:58) Erias: AP (21:37:01) Erias: |roll d6 (21:37:02) tafal: 3 | [d6=3] (Erias) (21:37:59) ***Erias has a look of sudden recognition. (21:38:19) Erias: "Foster. Distance. I remember. It has to be in range." (21:38:42) Foster: "Perhaps the... yes. How could I have forgotten that?" (21:38:52) Erias: "I can do it, if you give me a few minutes." (21:39:03) DM: Eh... (21:39:07) Foster: "I believe that the control it exerts has a range of a mere mile." (21:39:09) DM: before you guys go off on that tangent (21:39:27) Foster: (what, not cart with a bathtub in it? :P) (21:39:52) Sam: (wheelbarrow?) (21:40:34) Erias: "Dianarra... sorry about this, but can I carry you? If I can move you far enough in a few minutes -- before you dry out -- this can be broken." (21:40:56) DM: (Dianarra) "What? That's all? I can walk." (21:41:05) Fordran: "Wait, what's going on?" (21:41:15) Foster: "If there's a river nearby, you should probably head for that." (21:41:17) Erias: "As you like." (21:41:33) Erias: "Just go inland. We'll come with you, in case it pulls you back." (21:41:40) Foster: "However, before we go rushing off, I have one thing to point out." (21:41:42) DM: Dianarra nods. (21:42:04) Foster: "If the aboleth is still capable of attempting to exert control, it's within a mile of us." (21:42:07) Erias: "Fordran: The aboleth's control will end if she gets far enough from it." (21:42:12) Erias: (we're coastal, right?) (21:42:20) Fordran: "Can we just find it and destroy it?" (21:42:21) DM: (Yep, on the coastline) (21:42:24) Foster: (Threecrown is a port city.) (21:42:54) DM: (And home to the world-renowned Farmer's Faire!) (21:42:56) Erias: "Okay, I like the whole 'heroes' thing, but... do you know anything about the aboleth?" (21:43:17) DM: (Who are you speaking to?) (21:43:23) Foster: "I would recommend that we cure Dianarra's condition first. It's likely to have a wide array of enslaved creatures." (21:43:32) Erias: "We might be able to take it. But it's by no means a certainty." (21:43:37) Erias: (I was speaking to Fordran) (21:43:46) Erias: (in response to "Can we just find it and destroy it) (21:43:49) Erias: (") (21:43:51) Fordran: "Ah. I see." (21:44:14) Foster: "Let us set about removing ourselves from its mind control region first, and discuss further along the way." (21:45:04) ***Foster makes ready for departure. (21:45:30) DM: Dianarra marches to the door, scoops up her sword on the way out. (21:45:37) ***Erias retrieves the bag he stowed, and follows. (21:45:39) ***Fordran goes to get ready, checks on Fren. "How are you feeling? Are you still hurt?" (21:45:54) DM: (Fren) "What? No, I'm fine. This is so exciting!" (21:46:18) DM: Dianarra looks around for the ocean, then begins hustling directly away from it. (21:46:31) ***Foster follows along. (21:46:34) DM: (Dianarra) "One mile?" (21:46:38) Foster: "Correct." (21:46:58) ***Erias hustles after her, and probably begins dropping behind (20' move). (21:47:13) ***Fordran follows. (21:47:37) DM: After about 10 minutes, she grimaces and slows down. (21:47:49) DM: (Dianarra) "Is this far enough?" (21:48:07) ***Foster looks around for a source of fresh water. (21:48:19) DM: (Oh, right, river.) (21:48:41) DM: Dianarra jumps feet-first into the river without so much as a glance. (21:49:30) ***Erias catches up a couple of minutes later. (21:50:01) DM: (100 rounds of hustling is, in fact, 6000 feet of movement, compared to 5,280 feet per mile) (21:50:05) Foster: "If you can no longer feel the creature exerting its influence, then we've probably traveled far enough." (21:50:23) DM: "I haven't felt anything in my head since Fordran cast his spell." (21:50:49) Fordran: "It should have worn off by now." (21:50:55) DM: "Oh." (21:51:00) Foster: "Then we most likely passed beyond the range of its control shortly after leaving." (21:51:03) DM: (Dianarra) "You're sure?" (21:51:23) Sam: "Do you feel any different?" (21:51:27) Erias: "If you want to wait a few minutes to see..." (21:51:53) DM: (Dianarra) "No different than five minutes ago." (21:52:05) DM: (Dianarra) "And it won't resume when I return?" (21:52:31) Sam: "I hope not." (21:52:39) DM: She glares at Sam. (21:52:42) Erias: "It shouldn't be able to, from what I recall. I'd suggest you stay near us for a while, after we return to the house, and we can keep an eye out." (21:52:48) DM: She seems to do that a lot lately. (21:52:58) Foster: "As I understand it, the enslavement is broken once you emerge from its control area." (21:53:23) DM: She presses her lips tightly together at Erias' comment, but nods. (21:53:42) DM: She climbs out of the river. "Shall we?" (21:53:48) DM: She begins her hustle back. (21:53:50) Foster: "Let's." (21:53:55) ***Foster begins hiking. (21:54:22) Sam: "I understand little about these things." (21:54:23) DM: She passes Fren on the way. (21:54:28) ***Erias steps off the ground and accelerates. (21:54:36) DM: Fren turns around and follows. (21:54:52) Fordran: /follow (21:55:05) DM: 10 minutes later, she's back inside the tub. (21:55:51) Fordran: "So, Foster, what about her physical condition?" (21:56:05) DM: (Dianarra) "You should replace the door. Undefensible this way." (21:56:05) Foster: After everyone returns: "That problem confronted, our challenge is to ascertain the location of a cleric capable of producing the necessary magics to cure her." (21:56:33) Fordran: "We're looking into the door problem." (21:56:34) Erias: "Someone rather unkindly broke it down while we were away. We're working on it." (21:57:05) DM: "Yes. Well. You kept my sword, and no one was here when I called." (21:57:37) Foster: "Our apologies. We'll have to hire a butler or something to deal with future issues of that nature." (21:57:54) Foster: (I've always wanted a butler...) (21:57:59) DM: (heh) (21:59:53) DM: Seeing everyone deep in quiet contemplation, Fren clears his throat. (22:00:02) Erias: "Anyone know of local healers that aren't part of a new, tremendously evil church?" (22:00:06) DM: (Fren) "What kind of religious officiary are you searching for?" (22:00:42) Foster: "Even if they are tremendously evil, we can simply get them to heal Dianarra, then mop them up at our convinience." (22:01:09) Erias: "Point. Anyone know of any local healers that might be powerful enough for this?" (22:01:19) ***Fordran suggests a title of the Pelor hierarchy who might be able to do such things. (22:01:29) Fordran: (<-- doesn't know Pelorian hierarchy himself) (22:01:41) DM: (Erias would, but I have to make it up first) (22:01:50) DM: (gimme a couple days) (22:02:28) DM: (Fren) "Are there no temples offering their services here? Or a vendor of magical supplies perhaps?" (22:03:53) Erias: "There is, at the very least, a vendor of magical items." (22:03:57) Erias: "We could check with her." (22:04:08) DM: (She didn't have any divine that high level. 3rd I think) (22:04:23) Foster: "There's also another place we could check..." (22:04:43) Foster: (Foster pauses in thought as Ian scrambles to locate the name of our initial artificer/benefactor) (22:05:19) DM: (Argus) (22:05:28) Foster: (Right) (22:05:31) DM: (The Sunnian Urn, Antique shop) (22:06:11) Foster: "I'm not certain that he's reachable at this point, but if he is, he may know someone capable enough." (22:06:22) Foster: "If there's no objection, I'll go look." (22:06:42) Fordran: "Sounds good to me." (22:06:58) DM: Fren looks torn as to which group to follow. (22:07:04) DM: He remains here, however. (22:07:32) Erias: (Is Foster the only one leaving?) (22:07:45) Erias: (I'd go with him, but people are already beginning to talk.) (22:07:53) DM: (hee) (22:07:53) ***Foster steps briefly into the basement to see if Apol wants to come, then departs. (22:08:16) DM: Apol perks up at the word "Argus," and follows. (22:08:27) DM: Fren retroactively scribbled furiously when Apol flew past. (22:08:40) Erias: "Oh, right, the dragon." (22:09:27) DM: (Fren, to Erias) "Is that, in fact, an actual Noble Dragon?" (22:09:50) DM: (Fren) "Not one of the lesser dragons, a pseudodragon or faerie dragon?" (22:10:06) Erias: "I wouldn't really know. I don't think it does, either." (22:10:13) DM: (Fren) "It?" (22:10:38) Erias: "Oh, uh... yes. I'm not really sure about that, either." (22:10:59) DM: *scribble scribble* (22:11:15) DM: (You two are in the common room) (22:11:19) ***Erias notes the scribbling. (22:11:21) Erias: "That is... I respect its privacy." (22:11:30) DM: (Fren) "Oh, er. *lowers his voice* Who's the troubled young lady?" (22:12:02) Foster: (Our most dire foe. :P) (22:12:46) Erias: "Oh, that's Dianarra. She's had rather a rough time of it. Her parents were killed when she was young, and she's sworn vengeance on their killer. We found her training with a powerful... guy." (22:13:18) DM: (heee) (22:13:26) DM: *scritchey* (22:13:57) Erias: (I could have a lot of fun with our legacy.) (22:14:16) Erias: ("Also, she's in love with Fordran, which is tragic, because he has eyes only for Grith.") (22:14:18) DM: Fren looks up and sighs. "Poor thing." (22:14:25) Foster: (hee!) (22:14:26) Sam: (ngah!) (22:14:36) Fordran: (; ;) (22:14:49) Erias: "Indeed. We do what we can to help her." (22:15:44) DM: (Fren) "What happened to her mentor?" (22:16:56) Erias: "Killed by the same man who slew her parents. Tragic, indeed." (22:18:16) DM: (I'm guessing the others in the room are now giving each other strange looks :P) (22:18:22) DM: *scribbley* (22:18:28) Sam: (quite likely) (22:19:05) DM: (Fren) "Ah, the tragic heroine. So common in literature, so rare in history." (22:19:23) ***Foster walks in. (22:19:36) ***Fordran shifts uncomfortably. (22:19:46) DM: (Fren) "A tale of blood, vengeance, and death, no doubt. *he blinks free of his imaginings* Er, hopefully not too much death." (22:19:49) Erias: "Well, the heroines, like the heroes, are often tragic... often misunderstood... and only sometimes heroic." (22:19:57) ***Erias looks at Foster. (22:20:00) Foster: "Unfortunately, Argus is still absent. I think I have some idea of how to contact him, however." (22:20:11) Foster: "I'll be back in a bit." (22:20:34) ***Foster retreats to his room and closes his door. (22:20:48) DM: (Fren, to Erias) "All too true, Sir Erias. Poignantly put. Let me transcribe that..." (22:22:55) Erias: (This might be a good time to wind down...) (22:23:26) DM: Sure thing. (22:23:32) DM: Thanks for playing, all. (22:23:56) Fordran: (nerf ex-paladins) (22:23:59) Foster: Indeed. Sorry about being absent for the first half of the night, had an overly long phone call to deal with. (22:24:00) Sam: (zomg) (22:25:53) DM: Good job tonight. (22:26:27) Erias: Thanks, all.