Sigil

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Ankheg (X2)

Location: F10

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The fate of this creature, now stabbed a couple of times and psychically assaulted, not to mention its well-being chipped away by spreading necrosis from an unknown (to it) source, it not an extraordinarily pleasant one. Not quite at the level of mortal desperation as its companion, which was presently held down by fire chains, it nonetheless wished to press the issue for meat. The Ankheg didn't remember eating a bipedal reptile before, and this new potential source of meat intrigued its insect-brain. Be it at disadvantage, it attempted to latch onto the Dragonborn Monk and draw it closer to its corrosive mandibles.

Unfortunately, everything had taken a toll on the creature. Neither decent slash nor passable grapple was to be had, and it was left with no alternatives but to move away, or press the fight. It was still hungry.

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Ankheg (X3)

Location: M14 -> M10 -> M12

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This Ankheg sensed much of what was going on around it, be it not due to sharp eyesight as much as a sense of reading vibrations from the ground around it. Even if it wasn't as effective as its antennae, it could stil tell that there were things, larger and slower things which might not fight back quite as hard - just outside of the loose soil of the field. If it were able to catch a clear look, it would have known that it was targeting one of the three wagons present; specifically one which held two female humans that was trying to maneuver for an escape.

Unfortunately, there was a bit of disorganization between the L'Rose and Mosswater's wagons, denying either wagon a speedy withdrawal.

Kosara, in full blown RAGE, was between the beast and its intended target. Well, it didn't mind an a little something light to start its meal off. The fully instinctual thought process had this beast rushing to intercept the L'Roses' wagon, not even slowing to snatch up the raging Tiefling and deliver a vicious snap of its mandibles to her torso, digging in with its chitinous appendages and oozing acidic ichor onto the wounded area. The ride didn't stop there.

The creature took scampering but determined steps toward its intended victims, dragging the wounded Warlock along. It brought her just about back to where she started her charge before inexplicably halting. The horse-sized insect began to shiver wildly and dart its head around, as if to look for someplace to run. It is usually a very difficult thing to tell if a giant bug is afraid of something, but this one was showing all of the signs.

Kosara slipped from the Ankheg's grasp as it trembled, every one of its eyes now focused on the L'Rose wagon. It took a couple of shaky steps backward, now pawing at the earth with its back legs. It was trying to dig back into the ground, but made painfully little headway with an escape burrow as its senses were focused on the wagon in horror.

Kosara has taken 13 points of Slashing damage.
Kosara has taken 2 points of Acid damage.
Kosara has been moved to M10 on the battlemap.
NOTE: Creature is Frightened.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 5 HP: 30 / 33 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Laurent Farmland, J8 Action: Casting Vicious Mockery Bonus Action: Harming Beat Reaction: N/A

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The facepalm that Victoria would give herself after the adrenaline of the moment wore off would be epic. She honestly thought that there had to be a better way to flush out and/or avoid a possible ambush from underground than to cause a localized earthquake. On the other hand, it might have been confusing enough to make them show themselves, rather than start things off with a surprise attack. All the same, it didn't matter now. This grand ball had started and she suddenly felt like dancing. There was a moment of distraction when she witnessed the previously mundane (but notably powerful) Kathryn grow to a size proportional to their new adversaries and swaddle the one in front of her with burning chains. "That's what those runes meant..." she mused to herself, before refocusing on the fight. In truth, Victoria was a little jealous there wasn't a bardic equivalent to the new magic. It was visually impressive.

But back to Victoria's love of dance. It proved to be invaluable in that moment as an unforeseen jet of giant insect ichor streaked out from Kathryn's position; an attack from which the tall Knight likely caught the lion's share. The agile Bard dipped low and spun away like a transitional step in a lively folk dance, the briefest smile crossing her face. The expression was sort lived, however, as a feather-light arc of acid made contact, searing her leathers and opening a streak across her coat, dissolving down to burn the flesh beneath. Victoria cried out in surprise and pain - even in distress she was absolutely mellifluous of voice - but counted herself lucky it was only that minor.

The bitter sting of acid clarified her intent. She reached into her repertoire of spells she might cast. Shatter was still her most directly destructive area spell, but a thought came to mind that stayed the investment of her voice and talent in this way. It would cause widespread damage to its body and that was not her angle. Dissonant Whispers was another option, and more reliable of damage against a single target. But that bit of sorcery might make it flee, and she wanted them to stick around. Another option came to mind; one mastered only recently. It would harm in a way that did not physically damage and distract or befuddle the already dull creature to make it easier for the front-liners to finish the job with less fuss. "After all," she mused internally, "my role in a battle is to support."

She took in a deep breath and began to speak rhythmically, almost a chant, in proper and well enunciated Elvish. Even to those who did not speak the language whatsoever, there was a hard and wiry edge to it that left the shadow of a hurt more emotional or mental in nature. Like an echo of empathy for someone verbally cut to their core, or the second-hand embarrassment one may feel for a person humiliated in a room full of their peers. But the thing which was the obvious target, the Ankheg squaring off with Baronfjord, suddenly cringed as the psychic assault slammed into it. Its vigorous attack stance dropped into something sloppy and its clacking mandibles grew despondent, slowing their movements. Thin lines of dark fluid oozed from behind its compound eyes.

The flow of Elvish was cut short by an abrupt change in Victoria's speech. Harsh, not quite whispery, and deepening of tone as another voice layered atop hers, no less harmonious but potentially very unnerving. This short burst of dark speech resulted in previous wounds flaring with black, bubbling fluid, and localized veins of darkness spreading across the shell of the great beast, pulsating as they grew. The Ankheg wobbled as it took this renewed attack poorly, unable to even detect where the source of the pain originated.

Victoria held her position. So long as nothing got too close, she was in a good spot to contribute to this fray in a manner with which she was highly proficient. Morty finally complied with the task set to it and took its place by its master's side, awaiting further command.

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.