Pete's evil DnD adventure #1 Lamb of a Dark God

[HereComesPete]

Grimmie - He greedily nods his assent at the idea of getting paid at the Oxpit, one of his favourite places to waste his coin. He tells his companions to bugger off to a few bewildered faces and a few grumps, but the mention of payment has worked on them too and they're content to catch him up later. He points the way and sets off, dragging his new best friend Xanuin with him through the crowds of people and shouting his greetings to others he sees nearby, seems he's a local faux dandy with a gift of the gab.

Nicely done.

[HereComesPete]

You have my attention.

Haha! Sorry to disappoint Grimmie, arcane magic f o r c e s not horses! Although nightmares make for rather win steeds.

[Grimmie]

Excellent, charmed for four hours. Should be plenty of time to catch up with Morley.

I'll make conversation on the way, and look out more Morley when we approach.

So, friend. I'm told there's a large fellow who runs the pits. A half-ogre. Do you know of him?

[Joose]

I'll head in to the ox pit, doing my best to not draw attention to myself. I'll head to the bar to get a drink (although I wont actually drink it if I get one, its just a prop) and mill about, see if I can pick up any conversation about the ogre.

[HereComesPete]

Joose, as Morley approaches the door amongst the crowds of people shuffling in and out the slim figure in the pulpit calls out.

You, Gotho wants to see you upstairs!

FJ another fort save please.

Bits, you're still not concious.

Grimmie, he looks at you puzzled.

You must be new here sirrah, Borabas is the huge half-ogre you speak of, he's a name in the city since he arrived a few year back and took over running the pits, I'm thinkin everyone knows of him. Although I'm not sure he's half ogre, more like full ogre and brighter'n you might reckon. Him an Gotho are always shouting at each other sirrah, they're too much the same!

He turns back to waving at people and steering you through the crowds.

[FatherJack]

Fort:
Roll(1d20)+7:
20,+7
Total:27

!

[HereComesPete]

Boom crit!

You're pretty much the only one still concious. The noise emanating from the old priest and the new one is deafening, Ealhfring is scrabbling wildly at his face and throat and coughing lumps of thick jellied blood whilst the keening noises continue to pour from his ruined face. The old priest sounds like a kettle left too long on the boil.

The other priests, the guards and the congregation as well as as the sacrifice are in various states ranging from bled out husks, broken backed and vomiting wildly, tearing at their own flesh with tooth and nail or shaking vacantly whilst gibbering.

You however manage to drag yourself to your feet. The ground is thick with ice, and a weak, frozen wind is now blowing flurries of snow through the room and a frigid fog starts to creep in.

The holy trappings and belongings of the order are strewn about. Including the black bladed scythe you were attacked with, various cloaks and armour (with bodies in) and the various chalices and such that were used in the ceremony.

Crippled though you are with visions and nausea you're looking around at a frozen hell and you're quite possibly the only one standing, you're quite possibly the only one hearing the gentle laughter and seeing the hooded figures from the corner of your eye.

[FatherJack]

I think I need to get out of there, if I can. Heading for the way the wind/fog is coming from sounds like the exit if I don't know better.

[HereComesPete]

It's coming from everywhere above at once. As you stagger forward the wind drops and the hooting and squealing issuing forth from Ealfring and the old high priest stop like the noise was snatched from their throats. The snow continues to fall, the silence is almost total, you can hear your own ragged breathing and very little else.

Grimmie, Xan's new friend has lead you to the top of a long, shallow slope. The far end has a huge flagged edifice that curves off in to the darkness with a lopsided multi-floored building stuck to the front, light pouring out and streams of people bustling about in front.

Joose, is Morley going to say/do anything/nothing? Want to cross the threshold of the establishment and do something?

Bits - Ragorr has now woken up. Your wounds are closed, your aches are gone. Plenty of blood has spilled across your wooden cot. The priests are leaving, one looks like his hand is on the bag of coin that's still on on your chest where Borabas threw it.

[FatherJack]

If I know the way out, I'll head for it. If not, I'll try to catch a glimpse of the hooded figures I though I saw and maybe fire off a Detect Magic in case it points anything out.

[Joose]

Yep, Morley will nod politely at pulpit man and head in as directed.

[shot2bits]

Bits - Ragorr has now woken up. Your wounds are closed, your aches are gone. Plenty of blood has spilled across your wooden cot. The priests are leaving, one looks like his hand is on the bag of coin that's still on on your chest where Borabas threw it.

Ragorr's eyes flash open and lock with the priests and in a heartbeat is stood next to him excitedly snarling and growling something barely discernible as "breakfast" and will proceed to remove their hand from the bag, and the arm its attached to.

[Grimmie]

Who's this Gotho fellow you say Borabas struggles to get along with?

[HereComesPete]

Ok, interruption over.

FJ - a low chuckle whispers through the room as you head toward the door. The cold begins to ease, the bodies of the congregation, guards and priests scatter the floor, censers sputter as they spark back in to life and release their funeral scents. The black bladed scythe and other religious iconography are scattered around the priests' bodies. Ealhfring coughs weakly, blood leeching from his eyes and mouth.

To survive such direct exposure to the dark father and his brothers, his shroud covers you in a cloak of death! Truly you are the lamb of a dark god.

He sputters and a thick string of bright blood hangs over his surplices and armour. A gentle smile crosses his lips and again for a few seconds you see hooded figures in the corner of your vision.



Grimmie - your companion looks at you askance for a second.

You've not heard of him? He's the leader of the local guild, people say he sees and hears everything for a hundred leagues. He's got twenty fortunes and spends them freely on betting against Borabas' men, he hates Borabas because he loves animals and the ogre likes to see them killed in his pit.

Bits - for clarity are you taking the priests hand/arm out the bag or off the side of the priest?

[HereComesPete]

Heeeyyyyy yoouuuuu guyyysssss! I can't be the reason my forum games stall ALL the time!

[shot2bits]

Bits - for clarity are you taking the priests hand/arm out the bag or off the side of the priest?

all of the above

assuming a strength check is needed ill do a roll now

Roll(1d20)+4:
19,+4
Total:23

(i think that mod is right)

[HereComesPete]

With a loud crack, the priests shoulder is wrenched loose, his arm hangs limply where you've dislocated it. He screams, staggers backward and crashes over the door-frame in to the corridor.

[shot2bits]

With a loud crack, the priests shoulder is wrenched loose, his arm hangs limply where you've dislocated it. He screams, staggers backward and crashes over the door-frame in to the corridor.

he dropped the bag of coins first though right?

Que dramatic chase music if not

[HereComesPete]

There's no chasing, he's on the floor. He didn't actually have hold of the bag, you woke up to see his hand was on it. The hand that dangles at the end of his flapping arm is empty of any money. Cue dramatic music anyway, his priest friends have seen what you've done and decided you need a lesson. Roll init.

Joose, you walk through the door in to a wall of stink, light and heat, an assault of the senses. Beer slick tables and sawdust floors rammed with groups of people carding, arm wrestling, rolling bones and quaffing. There's various creatures in here, more than you would expect and more exotic than you might expect. The room you head in to is almost like the bottom of a pit. high ceilings are held aloft above many balconied floors, above a canopy of plants teems with life. The heat is cast from large fires, it's far brighter in here than you would expect from your average less than salubrious establishment. There's some very large men off to one side by a staircase, it's considerably cleaner than the rest of the expanse before you. All of the wall is seemingly sheared off at one end to slope toward steep seats, the noise pouring in from there is even louder than the general hubbub within the room.

FJ - still intent on leaving?

Grimmie, you're a hundred yards or so from the front of the oxpit, much the same as Morley a few minutes earlier, you see plenty of street life, pickpockets, glassing, vaudevillian acts etc, your friend seems happy.

[Joose]

I'll head towards the stairs and address the large men (assuming they are standing around the bottom, guard like. If not I'll just go straight past them.)

Excuse me gentlemen. Gotho has requested my presence and I wouldn't want to disappoint an individual of such import.