Sigil

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Ankheg (X1)

Location: G14

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Note: Creature is Restrained.

The great, chitinous monstrosity thrashed and bucked against the burning, confining links which sprung from the earth around it with deadly purpose, but seemed to only get itself further entangled. Previous hunger, and indeed the desire to sate that emptiness how it may, was supplanted heartily with more immediate survival. It could not snap a forelimb at the meat in front of it, nor could it advance so much as a single jerky step. It could not even make a decent attempt to burrow back into the ground and escape the pummeling damage of that unexpected concussive slam which assailed its ability to maintain consciousness and/or structural integrity. The chains which prevented this seared its exoskeleton to blackness in the places it clasped the tightest, which was keenly felt. All in all, this Ankheg was driven to an act of desperation, generally reserved for emergencies. Its internal scream to survive made the call.

It was still able to focus one set of its eyes upon its former prey-turned-attacker, and drew from within itself the corrosive ichor usually utilized to break down earth and bone. It gave what movement it could with its mouthparts to aim, and with a particularly inhuman series of clicking sounds, spewed the caustic juice directly at Kathryn. The gruesomeness of it connected, but such was the force of the projection that in continued in a narrow spray for a remarkable distance beyond, making partial connection with Victoria, several feet away.

Kathryn has taken 10 points of Acid damage (failed save)
Victoria has taken 3 points of Acid damage (passed save)

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@rivaan@Shoe Thief@Sigil@Arty Fox

Initiative:

Baronfjørd (23)
Kathryn (19)
Kosara (17)
X1 (16)
Victoria (13)
X2 (8)
X3 (1)

^{(The following is a copy/paste from the Boss Fight from Act One. As it fits exactly, I'm not changing a thing.)}
And this means that we have officially moved into initiative order! Yay! This also means that Baronfjørd is up first, so... Your move. The post can be as elaborate as you need or as simple as a decent paragraph. Remember to put your rolls in the open in our Discord OOC Lounge, and also please remember to tag the next person in line. You have 48 hours from this post to finish up. Aaaaand GO!

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Battle Map

Weather: The dim shy and cold winds remain, occasional and gusty, be they an afterthought to the horrors of the next few minutes.

Time: Afternoon. And if I might add, it is a nice day for fishin', ain't it?

Ambience: The road, the hill, the field, and the fence around it; all of these charming countryside features have one thing in common aside from their proximity. This solitary uniting factor is that, were they to achieve sapience and life experience enough to understand the concept of violence, they would understand what is to transpire before them.

*****

The attempts at negotiation with the hypothetically present unnamed underground bad guys did not show any outward appearances at bearing fruit, so far as the tall and imposing warrior in vintage mail armor or anyone observing the scene could surmise. Then again, this was secondary to the shaking sensation which covered a remarkable amount of ground underneath and around the party. This shaking, though harmless in and of itself, was exactly as harmless as a dinner bell ringing a half hour late.

At first, there was nothing. Just the glances of the group at one another and wide-eyed anticipation from the others at the wagons. Then the most curious movement of one of the mounds - specifically the one nearest to Kathryn - as the ripped and shorn half-carcass of what used to be one of the fatter sheep pushed upward, exposing more of itself through the dirt as it rose. The space of this seemed to take slow, ponderous moments, but in reality was less than a second. It made the explosive rush of motion which followed even more startling.

The thing of shredded meat, bone, and blood flung into the air as if propelled by an inexpert trebuchet, leaving a trail of intestinal gore behind it in a ballistic arc. Simultaneously, three creatures sprung from the loose, soft earth of the field; one from underneath the mound in front of Kathryn and the other two farther out toward the road in crude flanking positions.

These creatures resembled a monstrous pairing of a centipede and a mantis, as big as a horse and significantly longer. Thick green and brown mottled chitin covered their seemingly unwieldly but still quite agile forms, and sharp mandibles clacked in a manner that seemed rhythmic. The screams of Cecily and Lizbeth _{(and Tarace)} cut through the field and appeared to draw the notice of the giant insects if not their full attention, prompting dense fluid to secrete from their mouthparts in anticipation of a further meal.

Roll for Initiative.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@rivaan@Shoe Thief@Sigil@Arty Fox

Welcome, one and all! This post kicks off the wonder and spiffiness of EPIC STABBING TIME. If you are not amazingly comfortable with stabbing, we can also offer packages including EPIC BLUDGEONING TIME, possibly something with EPIC BURNING TIME, or even a bit of EPIC MINDSHARTING TIME for those of us with illusion and/or psychic damage to distribute. In short, there are a multitude of EPIC packages for the connoisseur of planned encounter mischief. To wit, let's get the formalities out of the way:

To summarize, we are now entering Initiative Order. Please make your rolls in our Discord OOC Lounge and tag me there. Once a rotation has been established, posting rules change. To remind, the 7 day rule is temporarily suspended. When your character is up in the rotation, you have 48 hours to post or you will be skipped. Your character will automatically take the Dodge action, and we will move on. If you are skipped twice you are removed from the RP. At the end of your post, TAG THE NEXT PERSON. This process will continue until, however it ends, we drop out of Initiative Order.

I will post our Initiative Order here in the OOC Tab after everyone has rolled and then we can get underway. Best of luck to you all, and remember, this IS a winnable battle, but there ARE consequences for inaction and/or failure. It's time to roll some dice.
A note: Per usual, do not assume that the stat block will always align with the enemy I put in front of you. Or behind. Or underneath. You get the idea.

Now, just to get a few OOC things out of the way. (ahem)

As I'm sure this particular monster is known to many, if not all, of the people here (or the image can be reverse searched with minimal effort), I will go ahead and say that the use of Thaumaturgy to shake the ground when one suspects a creature with Tremorsense was a double-edged sword. They were hunting herd animals. Now their plan has changed. The one upside is that no one got surprised here, so there's that. The downside, well... best of luck.

Remember that the fence counts as five feet of difficult terrain as opposed to a full obstacle, and in your header remember to put the occupied grid coordinates down for your location. And as always, tag me in our Discord for rolls, questions, etc. And now, for Initiative! Huzzah!


(cue EVEN more ominous noises)

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 5 HP: 33 / 33 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Laurent Farmland - Near the fence, field side Action: N/A Bonus Action: Morty! Reaction: N/A

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Being that Victoria was not one accustomed to the subtle variations of Tiefling Thaumaturgy at work, she did not know exactly what was about to transpire when her traveling companion and fellow woman of the magical arts, Kosara, called out "shake and tremble" to whomever would listen. When the ground around then heeded her strongly intoned advice, the generally serene Bard's face took on an wide-eyed, incredulous look as her head swiveled slightly to gaze upon her. In that moment, time seemed to slow to an unnatural, perhaps terminal pace.

The first thought that caught up with Victoria was a question which she posed to herself and/or any deity that may have been listening. "When did I become the moral compass of this group?" More followed. The idea that she was the pragmatic, level-headed person on the field almost gave rise to laughter. In that moment, she honestly wished that their group's Cleric, Marita, had decided to join them. There wasn't a great longing for friendship with the lady nagging at the recesses of Victoria's psyche, as (if she were being honest) Marita didn't seem to trust her in the slightest. She wasn't the only one; it was something she had gotten accustomed to over her time as a student of the Grey Requiem. But Marita's presence would have meant that she would have been able to take up the role of even-keeled pragmatist and leave Victoria to her more genuine state of detached neutrality, like a good Bard should.

Instead, this was swiftly turning into a toddler fire. If Victoria's suspicions were even half right, it was going to be a four-alarm barn burner.

Victoria issued a mental command to her Morty to turn that shuffle into a sprint, if at all possible, prompting the recently animated beast to pick up its pace in as directly a line to its master as it could. When her assessment of time ceased its relative dilation and she rejoined the perceptual reality everyone else was in, all that she could do was ready herself, and hope she was wrong.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: Partly cloudy, cold. Winds are sporadic and carry the bite of an early winter.

Time: Early afternoon, still. Time has not advanced much since arriving at the field in question.

Ambience: A hill rose to one side of the road, near which the Mosswaters' wagon was parked. It overlooked the field across the way, which was mostly harvested and partially stamped down by the feet of laborers hoping to glean fallen grain for their winter stores. A hush of caution fell over the Halfling agriculturalists and the L'Roses. Despite the wind, a sort of stillness covered the land.

*****

The afternoon sun cast lengthening shadows across the mostly open field in which the mystery of the missing, expired sheep was being investigated. The early concerns of some ruthless predator replaced by a caution of the unknown. Questions were raised. Among them, "where have the sheep gone - why is the soil so loose - what do these mounds and depressions mean?" The ground is open with the exception of the hill on the other side of the road, allowing for a more or less decent view of the lands all around. Not a single beast of the field nor bird of the sky was heard within all of that openness.

In the face of a direct question from Baronfjord, Barbel Mosswater collected his ability to speak and, though with moderately less noise, did respond with more than a hint of annoyance, "I grew up in this part of the region, and my farm abutts the Laurent property. This here is the outermost field of the Laurent Farmstead, and I left it as recently as this morning. This is the right field." Suffice it to say, he appeared certain of the location's legitimacy.

Cecily and Lizbeth stayed on the wagon, though the elder aunt made it a point to maneuver the vehicle so that it faced the direction from which they arrived. Getting herself and Lizbeth away from danger seemed her priority, though it could be noted that she did not leave immediately. Be it the pragmatism of not wishing to leave the people with magic and steel, or the loyalty owed to those she could trust, she remained. Lizbeth took the opportunity to twist around, looking at the unfolding situation with intense curiosity.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@rivaan@Shoe Thief@Sigil@Arty Fox

Update has been updated, as befits the may of modern times. You will notice that it is remarkably short in comparison to most of my posts. This is by design. At any point in time, this can flip from Narrative to Initiative. But yet, there is a possibility to keep that from happening. All of this depends upon the actions taken by the party's individual members.

Nevertheless, all of the signs of some coming event are in play. Now you have to ask yourselves - Is this a trap? Is this an ambush? Is the perpetually grumpy Halfling and his more genial, personal, potentially very good friend's doing in some nefarious setup?

Regardless of what is going to happen, we all can guess that something indeed is going to happen. As such, here are the Out Of Character things you need to know:

- Looking at the map, the crossed bundles of straw are approximately five feet square. Use this to estimate your positions relative to one another and your surroundings.
- The fence around the field counts as one square of difficult terrain for counting movement. It is a rail fence and not designed to keep anyone out, so much as define a boundary.
- The mounds and depressions in the ground start about midpoint in the field from the road and spread unevenly to the right, disappearing under the thicker, untamped straw of harvested grain.
- The mound that Kathryn found (and is near to) is close to dead center.
- Please make an accounting as to the location of your characters on the map and let me know in Discord. If you need to download and put a mark on the existing map in the IC header, please do so.

SO! With all of that out of the way, provided an event is triggered I will put your character locations on the Initiative Map as best I can and we're going to roll with it. In the unlikely event of a peaceful evening out in the country, this shouldn't be an issue with any lasting consequences. Of course, hit me up in our Discord for questions, comments, rolls, or readings.

I wish you all and your investigation the best of luck.

(cue more ominous noises)

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 5 HP: 33 / 33 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Southbound Road -> Laurent Farmland Action: Skill Check (Investigation) Bonus Action: Morty! Reaction: N/A

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It was lightly amusing to hear her Dragonborn companion address Morty in a somewhat formal manner, petitioning him to look after the wheel stops. Victoria imagined that she rather looked like that, herself, when she spoke to her animated porcine assistant. She had to admit to herself that it wasn't entirely normal, even amongst her peers in the Grey Requiem, to use their signature ability in quite this way. Most of them opted to handle things much more subtly, as opposed to her far more utilitarian view on the ability. Not that she had a multitude of peers in this regard with which to debate said topic.

Victoria was pleased to note that the wagon was moving along in such a way that did not make her fear for her safety, which was an immediate improvement from Baronfjord's last attempt. In fact, after a bit of time and only occasional nudging or demonstration, she felt comfortable enough to fetch up her violin and ease into a bit of traveling music. Humble but hopeful notes flew with practiced talent from her instrument, courteously played at a volume that allowed for its appreciation without unduly interrupting conversation around her. Travel through more-or-less safe, uncontested land was much more enjoyable with a touch of music, at least to her (occasionally) humble opinion.

Every so often, when the cart was traveling along a straight and even part of the road, Victoria's raven flew from its perch atop the wagon. Sometimes with an attention-grabbing call, sometimes not, but always with a smile and sudden distant look from Victoria. It was a little dizzying to experience the world through the senses of a creature in flight, especially when one was sitting on the driver's bench of a moving wagon, so Victoria took leave to grasp her seat with one hand to steady herself when she took these little jaunts with her Familiar. As wonderful as it was, this was something to which she would have to become accustomed.

The sporadic music Victoria played came to a cease as the first wagon, the Mosswaters', turned off of the main road and down to the site of the sheep massacre. The time it took to get to the Laurent Farm was spent paying as good of attention to her surroundings as she might while still attempting to teach her latest pupil the wonder and majesty of overland vehicle operation. As they neared the scene, the Bard braced for sights of blood and violence, or perhaps even the guilty party returning like she read about in the mysterious tales of her younger years. Oddly, she saw none of these. It prompted her to, after the wagon came to a halt, dismount and take a closer look at the scene.

It was a general glance around; an attempt to take in as many details as she could and piece together a story, as best she could. Carefully, Victoria walked out to the edge of the field and took it all in. There were bits of blood present every now and again, but not so much as to support the story that sheep were getting ripped limb from limb. The grain left upon the ground - the gleanings - were present withing the folded, post-harvest stalks further int he field but not around the ground closest to them, in the open. And there were curious mounds and dips of earth along the ground out in the open, barely noticeable unless one *really* looked for them. And of course, no sheep carcasses. Or even parts of them. So whatever did this, in fact, did come back. And might still be in the area.

Victoria allowed a mild look of alarm to cross her features before smoothing them back over, But she did clear her throat, ready to sing a bar or two if necessary. A quiet hiss of steel accompanied the drawing of her sword. In the same motion, Victoria undid her purple-lined, charcoal colored cloak's clasp with her other hand and twirled it over the rail fence nearby. It was cold still, but she greatly preferred the ease of movement *just in case*. Her raven took to the air, circling above as if reviewing carrion. Simultaneously, the sound of shuffling in the back of the wagon could be heard as Morty came to sudden animation, a mental command passed from its master to make itself close and available. Something seemed off here, and while Victoria couldn't tell for certain what it was, she knew enough to be wary.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: Partly cloudy, cold. Winds gust, off and on around you. Those with longer ears may wish to wear their hair down or pull their hoods up.

Time: The day marches on, bringing you into early afternoon.

Ambience: The lower temperature does nothing to take away from the landscape. The colors are particularly lovely around the river, which winds to and from the river as it sees fit, but the sections of bright and/or dull colors of low scrub and stubborn moor grasses dapple the lands with their own, proud colorations. The flowers, though small and low to the earth, are also rather lovely. Nearer to the river now, the trees become more and more common, even to the point of creating small wooded areas in the near distance.

*****

A grunt of affirmation was all that Barbal Mosswater had to say to Kathryn's response to the positive, and said grunt was inflected on the go. Tarace, on the other hand, gave a quick smile and a wave. Not just to Kathryn but to Kosara and Baronfjord as well, owing to their openness of introduction.

Likewise, the conversation with the vineyard wagon was a touch toward the terse side, with Cecily answering Baronfjord's question about time and distance with a rather vague, "Oh, did I forget to mention? If we move straight onward, we should arrive before dark. Look for signs that say 'Southmoor' and we're well over halfway there." She shifted back to tend her reins and make sure Lizbeth was okay. The girl seemed a little withdrawn again.

Travel continued somewhat quieter than before, wind notwithstanding. Quite an amount of time passed as the sun took a firmer stand of direction in the sky, marking the progression of the afternoon. The temperature seemed to mellow, if only slightly, and one might be able to tell if one paid very close attention. Every so often the train of three wagons was joined by a local, who shared a word or three with Cecily or the Mosswaters but soon turned off another perpendicular path away from the main road.

When afternoon began to shift into early evening, Barbel Mosswater called for a momentary halt. After a brief and quiet exchange with Tarace, a quick snap of leather in the air could be heard and his animals turned off of the main, and onto a side road leading away from the main river.

Just past this intersection, still along the mai road, a lone sign with worn but still quite legible print carved into it read, "Southmoor," and bore an arrow pointing forward.

As Cecily read the mood of the occasion full of desire to assist in the endeavors of the local agricultural laborers, she turned her wagon to follow that of Mr. Mosswater's. This turn saw a slight change of environment, as just over the next rise the land began to sport more in the ways of stout bush and closer set tree. The ground itself bore a seemingly terraced feel with abrupt changes of elevation as opposed to the mostly gentle roll of the moors, but this did not prevent the appropriation and implementation of farmland. As the trees broke and elevation allowed, one could catch a glimpse of wide hills sporting the flat leaning stalks of once red and golden topped sorghum, barley, and wheat fields.

The Mosswater wagon soon approached a spot where the road rounded about the end of a harvested field, surrounded by a low, rail fence. The necessary grain had been removed and taken away for milling or for storage, though chaff remained, and beneath this one could witness the occasional spot of red grain here, gold grain there, suggesting even more upon the worked earth if one chose to look. These were the gleanings, which the common folk needed to collect, following the main harvest as part of their compensation for labor and a necessary staple food to see them through the winter.

Barbal parked his wagon to the side of the road and gave a searching look around while standing in his seat. "Well, I'll be... the sheep went to scatter this way - got themselves hemmed in and ripped to mutton. I saw them bodies myself. There's nary a meaty bit left! What in the Hells could've happened to them?"

Cecily looked a little nervous and whispered to her young niece, "Stay on the wagon, Lizbeth dear. I don't like this." Truly, the tone of Mosswater's voice was a bit more shrill than his previous commanding tone, which might have added to Cecily's heightened sense of preservation. Taking a more positive note, then, Cecily stated, "We'd best get this thing sorted before the grain rots on the ground and more sheep explode. Disappear. Whichever."

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@rivaan@Shoe Thief@Sigil@Arty Fox

Ladies, Gents, X-folk (with or without the superpowers, I'm good wither way), we find ourselves in the throes of another Update. And to them, I say, IT HAS BEEN UPDATED! I feel that Huzzahs are in order; and I say this with no shame. Whatsoever.

This update brings with it a new map, astute observers might have already noticed. It is sparce, even without my usual grid overlay. I'm going to attempt to show the map, and things upon it, as the party searches or makes appropriate checks. Maybe it'll stick, maybe it won't. We'll see.

The trip to this spot took up a chunk of the day in reasonably uneventful overland travel. If there is any downtime stuff to handle or pressing conversation, this post is a good time for it. So long as things end up at our location a little ways off the main road out in grain and sheep country, we're all good.

Per usual, hit me up in the Discord for questions, rolls, rulings, and the like. And remember: your characters are on a vacation (of sorts). Try to have fun with it.

(cue ominous noises)