The Grey Dust

Tales of Maoria: A 5E D&D Adventure

Light. Casts of light everywhere.

Tales of Maoria: A 5E D&D Adventure

I have updated my Placeholder to depict a more spectacular use of flavor Cantrips.

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

Thomas Richard Harrison

Location: The Crossed Swords.
Interacting with: Keystone, Kyra, Cyneburg.

There was a difference in using a knife, and a using a knife. The former, Thomas could do, common stuff where knives were needed, like slice apples into wedges, bleeding juices from stems of alchemical plants, the small stuff. But combat with a knife? That's a completely different story, and as Keystone suggested maybe it might do the boy good to learn a few ways to stab someone. There are plenty of ways you can hurt a man and bring him to the ground. You can beat him, you can cheat him,you can treat him bad and leave him when he's down."Right, I guess, I meant like, I mean, I haven't used a knife to y'know, harm someone. And I didn't expect that to be a hairdresser's use of a knife." Keystone's answer was pretty obvious and his advice well warranted. Yes, Thomas kept a knife for purposes of preparing ingredients and other non-killing things. Although certainly there was one time where Master Wolfgang nearly had Thomas ritualistically kill a poor innocent offering for a ritual, but fortunately the crazy old mage called it off after finding his missing sock, no longer requiring him to send Thomas to consort with fiendish extraplanar entities much to both the boy and his victim's relief.

"I'll be up shortly Kyra, breakfast's a meal I'd rather not skip. Even if the innkeep's having some issues keeping his down." And Cyneburg appeared, not quite the orc Thomas was looking for, or had hoped had somehow remained, but the druid was okay, they hadn't talked too much with each other, but they fought together so the lad trusted her a bit more than the newcomer dwarf. "Morning Cyneburg, Uh, not much, we got a newcomer to our group, a dwarven knife-fighting barber. Nor wasn't it Sir Dwarf? Just a formality, although Thomas still found it odd a barber went around stabbing people. It was like someone out of a twisted musical, a demon barber, who shaved the faces of gentlemen who never thereafter where heard from again... "Oh and there's a betting pool going around about getting Keystone to make the innkeeper here throw up twice a day or something. And Keystone's making breakfast, not while making Femnal upchuck, oh and Kyra wanted us up when we're done eating to discuss... Things.

Thomas's recap for the druidic orc was hopefully all complete. Minus the chamberpot incident.

Tales of Maoria: A 5E D&D Adventure

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Kethan the Librarian

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Mention: @JaceBeleren | @JBRam2002 | @VKAllen | @Medjedovic | @Cardamonelaw | @rush99999 | @The Mighty Hero

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Fools. The lot of them. Rushing into battle headfirst, without a proper plan. One cannot successfully execute a coup in one throw of the dice. Not at least without some divine intervention. And though he was old, Kethan was still able to keep up, more or less, with use of his staff to aid his amble. The four warriors, archer and sneakthief, with a wizard and an old clergyman, this was some sort of jest was it not? Haste was a folly here, but the Elvens, a high ranger and half warrior or at least one by the latter's appearance, were correct. Time was indeed of the essence, and despite Kethan's hope muttered to his younger companion, he knew they would sooner or later brave the downpour. If indeed there was an informant within their midst, the Mayor would be prepared for this uprising. And Kethan would prefer a bloodless trial, a confession of truth freely testified was better than a forced interrogation.

He was a priest, of sorts, Gilean was a neutral god, a Patron of knowledge, but cared not what one does with the information with respect to morals. It was the balance of forces that kept both sides at bay, neither good nor evil, chaos nor law in dominance over each other. Knowledge which equalized all things, and retuned the cosmic scales. Though Kethan, preferred lawfulness and order, being a librarian and having all the volumes of lore to sieve through, catalogues of ages of learning, it was better to create a system which brings logic to the mess. It was rules and laws after all, which kept society together, the civilities of intellect, take it away from a man, and you are left with a wild beast. With little offence towards the large goliath within their group, Kethan found the plans to simply charge and barge, hacking and slashing all oppositions barbaric in nature. A moral dilemma not of good and evil, but rather of upholding the standards of society's laws and due process. Sometimes this was the only way however, and Ms. Imlotel had volunteered them by her good nature.

Thus forth did the disappointed elder shake his head after the declarations made, he had hoped they would spare a moment to access the assets within their rag tag group. The strengths, skills, and spells they had at their group's disposal, but perhaps it is better in some aspect that they did not have formal greetings, lest this poorly hashed plan fail and names were named. At least by appearances alone, they had four capable melee fighters, someone with a bow, Ms. Imlotel can provide some spells, and if they were too hurt, a few words of healing should mend wounds. But there was one amongst them Kethan was displeased of being thrown in a lot with. A thief, and one proud of being one it seemed with his feat of non-magical legerdemain. Someone to keep a keen eye on one that even years in a library finding obscure books in piles and piles of other books must actively keep in mind. To stay ahead of a pickpocket, better be behind him, rather than ahead.

It was also perhaps his age which made staying behind the majority of the group easier. And by the time the cleric of Gilean had reached the Cliffside manor, those fools had realized two things, the proverb uttered by Kethan was quite accurate, and there was a gated wall to get around before heroically storming the Mayor's estate. The leader of the group look absolutely lost, like a sheep that absent-mindedly wandered off from drier fields. Drenching his robes in rain, as Kethan's shoes and walking stick struck the muddied ground. A stern grandfather's look across his visage, one that was both disappointed in the youngster's rash actions which dragged these old bones out here in the rain.

"I told you, fools." An aside to Ms. Imlotel, as the cleric's eyes scanned the wall before them for footholds or anything that would make an attempt to scale the walls far easier in the rain. But smooth stone walls slick with water, even with a rope would be difficult, not that Kethan's knees could do what these others could, far less springy and stiffened with age and prayer. Yet what the librarian lacked in youth and vigor, he made up in experience, something he could demonstrate to these overeager and overthinking people. Their elven bow-woman already formulating a plan to get past the impasse before them, planning to scale the walls herself. And with a knowing chuckle, Kethan had already come up with a far simpler solution for their problem.

"Knowledge opens many doors." A single utterance, before the wrought iron gates flung themselves apart. Invisible hands, pulling against the metal, opening up as Kethan approached, walking through as a prophet parting the seas. The challenge of the great walls and gate seemingly impressively defeated by a mystical intervention, or rather a divine one given Kethan's profession. Yet what Kethan surmised, and thus used his trick, was that the gate was unlocked, no guards were posted on the outside as sharp eyes noted, thus there was no sentry to man the gates or message those on the other side to unlock the gates. Step, step, staff, step, step, staff, the rhythm of his cadence. Without turning back to see who followed into the unknown, the tortoise overtaking the hare, the last to arrive, but the first to set the terms, "I prefer a bloodless visit to find truth, please keep the bloodshed to a minimum. I am not prepared to bring any fool back from the dead, but my younger company may wish to do so..."

Mechanics

Kethan takes passive Perception 23, then uses Cantrip: Thaumaturgy.

Tales of Maoria: A 5E D&D Adventure

@The Mighty Hero

Thought as much.
The Metagame is REAL.
I was also a kooky GM,
but I figured with Kethan's age and wisdom score,
he might just first try the gate's unlocked.

I reserve the IC Post to unlock the gate.
I'll have it up shortly.

Tales of Maoria: A 5E D&D Adventure

@The Mighty Hero

I'll declare a few actions before posting IC:

Perception check on Gate and wall, I'll take 10. for 23 passive perception.
Also check to see if Gate is locked, using Cantrip: Thaumaturgy (I mean a gate is technically a door).
Then if that fails, Guidance x 3 on whoever we are decided to climb the wall etc.

Tales of Maoria: A 5E D&D Adventure

@rush99999

Well the Goliath with 20 Str should be able to do a quick STR check vs Gate... or Wall.

Then again since there is no guards at the gate, anyone happen to have a 21 foot long ladder?
Alternatively, we can check have the goliath uproot a 21 foot tall tee for such use.
Or if anyone knows the spell fly or has wings...
Or tie a piece of rope long enough to an arrow, then around the gate if it one with slots and not a solid gate, have the archer do a trick with a bow arching the arrow-rope towards our end, so it loops over the height of the gate and we can climb that...
Or then again we can almost negate the -2 penalty if someone is willing to Climb the wall, then proceed to unlock the gate...

DIVINE GUIDANCE!

Tales of Maoria: A 5E D&D Adventure

@The Mighty Hero

If possible could you describe the wall and gate a bit more. Some descriptive setting might help. Considering our collective perception scores. Plus I mean technically the gates were just described as closed and not LOCKED. Or secured or chained so there's technically nothing stopping Kethan suggesting we try the gate. Finding it unlocked and unattended...

Slam Poetry Thread

Fractured edges cut,
Mind the shattered mirror now,
Broken pieces thrown.

Slam Poetry Thread

Vermillion artist,
Crimson brushstroke of a blade,
Draws your scarlet blood.