[LP] DestinyQuest 2: The Heart of Fire
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Omegonthesane
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The image link is returning a 403 Forbidden, and it seems likely from context that it is relevant to this puzzle.
Kaelik wrote:Because powerful men get away with terrible shit, and even the public domain ones get ignored, and then, when the floodgates open, it turns out there was a goddam flood behind it.
Zak S, Zak Smith, Dndwithpornstars, Zak Sabbath, Justin Bieber, shitmuffin
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angelfromanotherpin
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Darth Rabbitt
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- Location: In "In The Trenches," mostly.
- Contact:
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Darth Rabbitt
- Overlord
- Posts: 8870
- Joined: Thu Feb 05, 2009 8:31 pm
- Location: In "In The Trenches," mostly.
- Contact:
713 it is!
As you light the last candle, the ground quickly begins to tremble and shake beneath your feet. You quickly back away from the scorched markings, tugging your weapon free.
Then you hear the sound of crumbling earth. The pumpkin head has started to rise off the ground, supported on a pair of dirt-covered shoulders. In horror, you realize that the creature is struggling to free itself, dragging first one arm and then the other out of the soil. Its long clawed fingers rake the earth as it crawls forward, slowly pulling the rest of its skeletal body free from the mound.
The creature kneels and then stands, clods of sodden earth falling from its dark bones. For a moment, it regards you thoughtfully, wobbling on bony heels. Then with a sudden lurch, the pumpkin staggers towards you, flames billowing from its jagged mouth. You must fight:
(Jack got a lot of really good rolls early on but he couldn't stand up to our numbers.)
Within minutes the earthen mound is littered with bones and chunks of pumpkin. You wipe the fleshy pulp from your blade, before searching what remains of the creature's body. You may now take any/all of the following items:
Pumpkin squash (2 uses) (backpack) Use any time in combat to raise your brawn or magic for 2 by one combat round
All hallow's ring (ring) +1 brawn
The witch must have been summoning this grisly guarding to help protect the burial mound. You set about breaking up the ritual area, extinguishing the candles and scuffing the chalk circles with your boot heel. Satisfied with your efforts, you leave the mound and head deeper into the barrows.
The fog has thickened once again, obscuring your surroundings. Picking a direction at random, you press on through the barrows, looking for tombs that might offer up their riches.
You haven’t traveled far before you become aware of something following you. There is the sound of padded feet. And a low, guttural growl.
You spin around with weapons drawn, hoping to catch your pursuer. But there is nothing there, only a ghostly white mist. Another growl forces you to turn again. Your breath catches in your throat as you spot a dark shape moving towards you. The reek of damp earth and stagnant water grow stronger as the creature approaches, clawed feet crunching through the straggly grass.
Then the fog parts and you see it. A black-haired wolf of immense size, its gangly shoulders almost as tall as your own. For a moment, you are held by its glittering yellow eyes…
…and then you run.
Frantically, you sprint across the uneven ground, with no sense of where you are headed. The beast is following, close on your heels, its wet snarling the only sound in the grim silence.
Your foot catches on something—a root or a stone—and you find yourself flying forwards over the side of a steep hill. Unable to break your momentum, you tumble and slide through the damp grass, finally crashing down onto stony soil.
You barely have time to clamber to your feet before the wolf is upon you. The stench of death is almost overpowering as a shaggy head, full of glittering fangs, fills your vision. Somehow, you are able to push the beast away, dodging a swipe from its curved claws. Desperately you back away, hands shaking as you grip your weapons. Then your heel hits against something hard. You can feel stone and earth pressing against your rear.
Grimly, you realize you are trapped against one of the mounds.
The dire wolf knows there is no escape. With frothy saliva dripping from its hairy jowls, the enormous beast rears back on its haunches and prepares to pounce.
All of a sudden, you find yourself being tugged backwards off your feet, shoulders brushing past roots and earth. You land roughly on your back, aware that you have fallen inside an earthen passage. As you look back towards the snarling wolf, you see the opening that deposited you here is starting to close. The wolf races forward, snarling and growling with anger. But its shoulders are too wide to break through the rapidly closing gap. Within moments you find yourself looking upon a wall of gnarly roots and dark soul—the opening nowhere to be seen.
Your first reaction is relief at having escaped the dire wolf. Then a cold dread settles over you, as you contemplate your new predicament.
You see that you are in a shadowy passageway. The air is moist and hot, reeking of mold and decay. A few meters ahead of you a torch rests in a sconce on the wall, spluttering blue-white flames that spark and hiss in the silence.
With no alternative you set off down the passageway, your ragged breathing echoing back from the damp walls. After several minutes, you find yourself stepping out into a wide circular chamber. Torches are interspersed along the rough-hewn walls, filling the space with dancing shadows.
Then you hear a noise. It starts out as a soft rustling, quickly growing louder into a slithering hiss. You spin around, looking for the source of the noise, but all you see are the shadows—bending, curling, winding about you.
Then a voice whispers in your ear. The words seem guttural, barely human. ‘You do not know the Wiccan. You do not know our ways.’
You jerk sideways, batting the air next to you. But there is nothing to hit. The voice continues: ‘I see your strength, old one. But your head is heavy. Filled with stones. I fill with memory.’
Suddenly the dancing shadows streak towards the center of the room, where they billow upwards into a column of darkness. As you watch the column takes on shape, becoming a giant humanoid creature. It has no features, but the outline is clearly recognizable—a troll with muscular shoulders and arms, a broad chest, and a bow-legged gait. From its right hand the shadows distend outwards, forming a spiked club.
The voice whispers: ‘My people’s blood nourishes this soil. They have always known war, our lands forever overrun by the beasts from the dark.’
The troll stomps towards you, its club raised. Although the creature is made purely of shadow, you know, you know instinctively that this foe presents a very real and deadly threat. You must now fight:
Special abilities
Regeneration: At the start of each combat round, the troll regains 2 health. Once the troll’s health has been reduced to zero, it cannot heal. (Note: this ability cannot take the troll’s health above its starting value of 15.)
The troll is a formidable opponent, but its attacks are slow and clumsy. Your weapons quickly cut it down to size, reducing its body to shreds of shadow. As they curl away on the smoky air, the voice whispers in your ear once more: "The dwarves taught us the runes. They gave us strength. Power. And so we conquered. Made these lands our own.'
The shadows start to wind and coil together, forming another shape. This one is human-sized, the outline hinting at heavy-plate armor. In one hand a warhammer materializes into being: in the other, shadows spread outward to fashion a shield.
'Then the eastlings came. Men with steel in their hearts; weapons of light and flame, and a false god to master us. But we Wiccans have no masters...'
The knight charges towards you, the warhammer crackling with dark magic:
(Finally, a fight with just good rolls for Paddy!)
You smash through the shield, severing the shadow warrior cleanly in two. As you stagger back, breathing hard from the fight, you hear the voice once again in your ear.
'The Wiccan will endure. Our legacy will live on.'
The shadows wind their way across the stony ground. When they reach the far wall they creep up the cracked stonework, forming a doorway of midnight black.
'Your head is full of stones,' hisses the voice. 'Fill it with memory.'
You take a step towards the door. Suddenly the torches go out, throwing the room into freezing darkness. A second later they reignite, their blue radiance falling on a vast array of treasures. Somehow you have been transported to an ancient vault, beneath the hill.
There is the sound of grating, squealing rock. You turn around to see a short passageway, leading up to a circle of daylight...but, alarmingly, you see that the circle is growing smaller, threatening to trap you here forever. You realize that you have mere seconds to grab what you can from the Wiccan warrior's tomb.
To your left is a pile of weapons and armor. To your right is a long oak chest, inlaid with runes of iron.
Will you:
Search the weapons and armor?
Open the chest?
As you light the last candle, the ground quickly begins to tremble and shake beneath your feet. You quickly back away from the scorched markings, tugging your weapon free.
Then you hear the sound of crumbling earth. The pumpkin head has started to rise off the ground, supported on a pair of dirt-covered shoulders. In horror, you realize that the creature is struggling to free itself, dragging first one arm and then the other out of the soil. Its long clawed fingers rake the earth as it crawls forward, slowly pulling the rest of its skeletal body free from the mound.
The creature kneels and then stands, clods of sodden earth falling from its dark bones. For a moment, it regards you thoughtfully, wobbling on bony heels. Then with a sudden lurch, the pumpkin staggers towards you, flames billowing from its jagged mouth. You must fight:
| Speed | Brawn | Armor | Health | |
| Jack o' Lantern | 0 | 1 | 1 | 15 |
Round 1: Patio 6+1, Jack 9+0. Prophecy'd, no damage.
Round 2: Patio 6+1, Jack 7+0. Tie.
Round 3: Patio 8+1, Jack 9+0. Tie.
Round 4: Patio 6+1, Jack 8+0. 6+1-2=5 damage, we're at 25.
Round 5: Patio 4+1, Jack 8+0. 6+1-2=5 damage, we're at 20.
Round 6: Patio 8+1, Jack 7+0. 2+2-1=3 damage, Jack's at 12.
Round 7: Patio 6+1, Jack 5+0. 2+2-1=3 damage, Jack's at 9.
Round 8: Patio 2+1, Jack 9+0. 1+1-2=0 damage.
Round 9: Patio 9+1, Jack 7+0. 5+2-1=6 damage, Jack's at 3.
Round 10: Patio 7+1, Jack 8+0. Tie.
Round 11: Patio 9+1, Jack 4+0. 5+2-1=6 damage, Jack's dead.
Round 2: Patio 6+1, Jack 7+0. Tie.
Round 3: Patio 8+1, Jack 9+0. Tie.
Round 4: Patio 6+1, Jack 8+0. 6+1-2=5 damage, we're at 25.
Round 5: Patio 4+1, Jack 8+0. 6+1-2=5 damage, we're at 20.
Round 6: Patio 8+1, Jack 7+0. 2+2-1=3 damage, Jack's at 12.
Round 7: Patio 6+1, Jack 5+0. 2+2-1=3 damage, Jack's at 9.
Round 8: Patio 2+1, Jack 9+0. 1+1-2=0 damage.
Round 9: Patio 9+1, Jack 7+0. 5+2-1=6 damage, Jack's at 3.
Round 10: Patio 7+1, Jack 8+0. Tie.
Round 11: Patio 9+1, Jack 4+0. 5+2-1=6 damage, Jack's dead.
Within minutes the earthen mound is littered with bones and chunks of pumpkin. You wipe the fleshy pulp from your blade, before searching what remains of the creature's body. You may now take any/all of the following items:
Pumpkin squash (2 uses) (backpack) Use any time in combat to raise your brawn or magic for 2 by one combat round
All hallow's ring (ring) +1 brawn
The witch must have been summoning this grisly guarding to help protect the burial mound. You set about breaking up the ritual area, extinguishing the candles and scuffing the chalk circles with your boot heel. Satisfied with your efforts, you leave the mound and head deeper into the barrows.
The fog has thickened once again, obscuring your surroundings. Picking a direction at random, you press on through the barrows, looking for tombs that might offer up their riches.
You haven’t traveled far before you become aware of something following you. There is the sound of padded feet. And a low, guttural growl.
You spin around with weapons drawn, hoping to catch your pursuer. But there is nothing there, only a ghostly white mist. Another growl forces you to turn again. Your breath catches in your throat as you spot a dark shape moving towards you. The reek of damp earth and stagnant water grow stronger as the creature approaches, clawed feet crunching through the straggly grass.
Then the fog parts and you see it. A black-haired wolf of immense size, its gangly shoulders almost as tall as your own. For a moment, you are held by its glittering yellow eyes…
…and then you run.
Frantically, you sprint across the uneven ground, with no sense of where you are headed. The beast is following, close on your heels, its wet snarling the only sound in the grim silence.
Your foot catches on something—a root or a stone—and you find yourself flying forwards over the side of a steep hill. Unable to break your momentum, you tumble and slide through the damp grass, finally crashing down onto stony soil.
You barely have time to clamber to your feet before the wolf is upon you. The stench of death is almost overpowering as a shaggy head, full of glittering fangs, fills your vision. Somehow, you are able to push the beast away, dodging a swipe from its curved claws. Desperately you back away, hands shaking as you grip your weapons. Then your heel hits against something hard. You can feel stone and earth pressing against your rear.
Grimly, you realize you are trapped against one of the mounds.
The dire wolf knows there is no escape. With frothy saliva dripping from its hairy jowls, the enormous beast rears back on its haunches and prepares to pounce.
All of a sudden, you find yourself being tugged backwards off your feet, shoulders brushing past roots and earth. You land roughly on your back, aware that you have fallen inside an earthen passage. As you look back towards the snarling wolf, you see the opening that deposited you here is starting to close. The wolf races forward, snarling and growling with anger. But its shoulders are too wide to break through the rapidly closing gap. Within moments you find yourself looking upon a wall of gnarly roots and dark soul—the opening nowhere to be seen.
Your first reaction is relief at having escaped the dire wolf. Then a cold dread settles over you, as you contemplate your new predicament.
You see that you are in a shadowy passageway. The air is moist and hot, reeking of mold and decay. A few meters ahead of you a torch rests in a sconce on the wall, spluttering blue-white flames that spark and hiss in the silence.
With no alternative you set off down the passageway, your ragged breathing echoing back from the damp walls. After several minutes, you find yourself stepping out into a wide circular chamber. Torches are interspersed along the rough-hewn walls, filling the space with dancing shadows.
Then you hear a noise. It starts out as a soft rustling, quickly growing louder into a slithering hiss. You spin around, looking for the source of the noise, but all you see are the shadows—bending, curling, winding about you.
Then a voice whispers in your ear. The words seem guttural, barely human. ‘You do not know the Wiccan. You do not know our ways.’
You jerk sideways, batting the air next to you. But there is nothing to hit. The voice continues: ‘I see your strength, old one. But your head is heavy. Filled with stones. I fill with memory.’
Suddenly the dancing shadows streak towards the center of the room, where they billow upwards into a column of darkness. As you watch the column takes on shape, becoming a giant humanoid creature. It has no features, but the outline is clearly recognizable—a troll with muscular shoulders and arms, a broad chest, and a bow-legged gait. From its right hand the shadows distend outwards, forming a spiked club.
The voice whispers: ‘My people’s blood nourishes this soil. They have always known war, our lands forever overrun by the beasts from the dark.’
The troll stomps towards you, its club raised. Although the creature is made purely of shadow, you know, you know instinctively that this foe presents a very real and deadly threat. You must now fight:
| Speed | Brawn | Armor | Health | |
| Troll | 0 | 1 | 0 | 15 |
Special abilities
Regeneration: At the start of each combat round, the troll regains 2 health. Once the troll’s health has been reduced to zero, it cannot heal. (Note: this ability cannot take the troll’s health above its starting value of 15.)
Patio 8+1, Troll 7+0. 2+2=4 damage, troll's at 11. *regen* Troll's at 13.
Patio 6+1, Troll 7+0. Tie. *regen* Troll's at 15.
Patio 3+1, Troll 12+0. (prophecy'd, no damage.)
Patio 9+1, Troll 4+0. 3+2=4 damage, troll's at 10. *regen* Troll's at 12.
Patio 4+1, Troll 12+0. 6+1-2 =5 damage, Paddy's at 25. *regen* Troll's at 14.
Patio 10+1, Troll 9+0. 2+2=4 damage, Troll's at 10. *regen* Troll's at 12.
Patio 4+1, Troll 5+0. Tie. *regen* Troll's at 14.
Patio 7+1, Troll 10+0. 1+1-2=0 damage. *regen* Troll's at 15.
Patio 7+1, Troll 9+0. 2+1-2=1 damage, Paddy's at 24.
Patio 7+1, Troll 12+0. 3+1-2=2 damage, Paddy's at 22.
Patio 7+1, Troll 7+0. 6+2=8 damage. Troll's at 7. *regen* Troll's at 9.
Patio 8+1, Troll 6+0. 3+2=5 damage. Troll's at 4. *regen* Troll's at 6.
Patio 9+1, Troll 7+0. 6+2=8 damage, troll's dead!
Patio 6+1, Troll 7+0. Tie. *regen* Troll's at 15.
Patio 3+1, Troll 12+0. (prophecy'd, no damage.)
Patio 9+1, Troll 4+0. 3+2=4 damage, troll's at 10. *regen* Troll's at 12.
Patio 4+1, Troll 12+0. 6+1-2 =5 damage, Paddy's at 25. *regen* Troll's at 14.
Patio 10+1, Troll 9+0. 2+2=4 damage, Troll's at 10. *regen* Troll's at 12.
Patio 4+1, Troll 5+0. Tie. *regen* Troll's at 14.
Patio 7+1, Troll 10+0. 1+1-2=0 damage. *regen* Troll's at 15.
Patio 7+1, Troll 9+0. 2+1-2=1 damage, Paddy's at 24.
Patio 7+1, Troll 12+0. 3+1-2=2 damage, Paddy's at 22.
Patio 7+1, Troll 7+0. 6+2=8 damage. Troll's at 7. *regen* Troll's at 9.
Patio 8+1, Troll 6+0. 3+2=5 damage. Troll's at 4. *regen* Troll's at 6.
Patio 9+1, Troll 7+0. 6+2=8 damage, troll's dead!
The shadows start to wind and coil together, forming another shape. This one is human-sized, the outline hinting at heavy-plate armor. In one hand a warhammer materializes into being: in the other, shadows spread outward to fashion a shield.
'Then the eastlings came. Men with steel in their hearts; weapons of light and flame, and a false god to master us. But we Wiccans have no masters...'
The knight charges towards you, the warhammer crackling with dark magic:
| Speed | Brawn | Armor | Health | |
| Knight | 0 | 1 | 2 | 18 |
Patio 8+1, Knight 10+0 (prophecy'd, no damage.)
Patio 10+1, Knight 7+0. 5+2-2=5 damage, knight's at 13.
Patio 11+1, Knight 8+0. 1+2-2=1 damage, knight's at 12.
Patio 6+1, Knight 4+0. 4+2-2=4 damage, knight's at 8.
Patio 8+1, Knight 5+0. 4+2-2=4 damage, knight's at 4.
Patio 8+1, Knight 7+0. 4+2-2=4 damage, knight's dead!
Patio 10+1, Knight 7+0. 5+2-2=5 damage, knight's at 13.
Patio 11+1, Knight 8+0. 1+2-2=1 damage, knight's at 12.
Patio 6+1, Knight 4+0. 4+2-2=4 damage, knight's at 8.
Patio 8+1, Knight 5+0. 4+2-2=4 damage, knight's at 4.
Patio 8+1, Knight 7+0. 4+2-2=4 damage, knight's dead!
You smash through the shield, severing the shadow warrior cleanly in two. As you stagger back, breathing hard from the fight, you hear the voice once again in your ear.
'The Wiccan will endure. Our legacy will live on.'
The shadows wind their way across the stony ground. When they reach the far wall they creep up the cracked stonework, forming a doorway of midnight black.
'Your head is full of stones,' hisses the voice. 'Fill it with memory.'
You take a step towards the door. Suddenly the torches go out, throwing the room into freezing darkness. A second later they reignite, their blue radiance falling on a vast array of treasures. Somehow you have been transported to an ancient vault, beneath the hill.
There is the sound of grating, squealing rock. You turn around to see a short passageway, leading up to a circle of daylight...but, alarmingly, you see that the circle is growing smaller, threatening to trap you here forever. You realize that you have mere seconds to grab what you can from the Wiccan warrior's tomb.
To your left is a pile of weapons and armor. To your right is a long oak chest, inlaid with runes of iron.
Will you:
Search the weapons and armor?
Open the chest?
Name: Mr. Patio
Speed: +1, Brawn: +2, Magic: +2, Armor: +2
Health: 30
Prophecy
bones
sure blade
calling
Map of Carvel
Money Pouch: 6 Crowns
Speed: +1, Brawn: +2, Magic: +2, Armor: +2
Health: 30
| Slot | Item | Speed | Brawn | Magic | Armor | Ability |
| Head | Plumed Helm | +1 | ||||
| Necklace | ||||||
| Cloak | Saddle Blanket | +1 | ||||
| Main Hand | Knight's Folly | +1 | +1 | |||
| Left Hand | ||||||
| Gloves | ||||||
| Chest | Rider's Jerkin | +1 | ||||
| Feet | ||||||
| Talisman | Crow Feather | +1 | ||||
| Ring 1 | All Hallow's Ring | +1 | ||||
| Ring 2 |
| Backpack | Item |
| 1 | Pot of healing |
| 2 | Pumpkin squash (2 uses) |
| 3 | |
| 4 | |
| 5 |
Prophecy
bones
sure blade
calling
Map of Carvel
Money Pouch: 6 Crowns
Pseudo Stupidity wrote:This Applebees fucking sucks, much like all Applebees. I wanted to go to Femboy Hooters (communism).
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angelfromanotherpin
- Overlord
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- Joined: Fri Mar 07, 2008 7:54 pm
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Omegonthesane
- Prince
- Posts: 3692
- Joined: Sat Sep 26, 2009 3:55 pm
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Darth Rabbitt
- Overlord
- Posts: 8870
- Joined: Thu Feb 05, 2009 8:31 pm
- Location: In "In The Trenches," mostly.
- Contact:
Disgraceful as the troll may have been compared to the one in the first book, its regeneration made it the longest fight Mr. Patio's been in.
You fling open the chest and root through its contents, finding a number of war trophies and pieces of jewelry wrapped in linen. With your only exit closing rapidly behind you, there is no time to waste.
You may grab any two of the following items:
Blood iron knot (necklace) +1 armor ability: charm (reroll 1 of your hero's dice 1/combat, multiple instances stack for extra uses)
Troll's bones (backpack) These might prove valuable to the right person
Chieftain's guard (head) +1 brawn ability: might of stone (1/combat, increase your own or an ally's armor score by 3 for one combat round)
Pick 2 loots to proceed.
You fling open the chest and root through its contents, finding a number of war trophies and pieces of jewelry wrapped in linen. With your only exit closing rapidly behind you, there is no time to waste.
You may grab any two of the following items:
Blood iron knot (necklace) +1 armor ability: charm (reroll 1 of your hero's dice 1/combat, multiple instances stack for extra uses)
Troll's bones (backpack) These might prove valuable to the right person
Chieftain's guard (head) +1 brawn ability: might of stone (1/combat, increase your own or an ally's armor score by 3 for one combat round)
Pick 2 loots to proceed.
Pseudo Stupidity wrote:This Applebees fucking sucks, much like all Applebees. I wanted to go to Femboy Hooters (communism).
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Omegonthesane
- Prince
- Posts: 3692
- Joined: Sat Sep 26, 2009 3:55 pm
Paddy is not currently collared, so we'll take the Blood Iron Knot as it isn't competing with a current item, and the Troll Bones because plot coupon and backpack isn't full.
Kaelik wrote:Because powerful men get away with terrible shit, and even the public domain ones get ignored, and then, when the floodgates open, it turns out there was a goddam flood behind it.
Zak S, Zak Smith, Dndwithpornstars, Zak Sabbath, Justin Bieber, shitmuffin
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Darth Rabbitt
- Overlord
- Posts: 8870
- Joined: Thu Feb 05, 2009 8:31 pm
- Location: In "In The Trenches," mostly.
- Contact:
Clutching your items you turn and race up the passageway, towards the shrinking circle of light. Just as it is about to close you throw yourself forward, hands grappling at the rotting roots and earth. You stagger through the hole, turning to watch as it snaps closed, leaving no trace of a secret passageway. Facing you is a solid mound, as nondescript as the others in the barrows.
Overcome with elation at your hair-raising escape, you give a whoop of joy, punching the air.
It is then you hear a wolf-like snarl.
Your heart skips a beat. Slowly, you turn on the spot, the stench of wet fur drifting on the wind. The giant dire wolf is watching you with its glittering amber eyes, spit drooling from its fangs. The beast has waited for you. And once again, there is no escape.
But something has changed in you now. After your ordeal in the burial mound you feel different—more confident in your abilities. You have the chieftain's treasures to aid you—fine equipment from a bygone age; from a bygone hero.
You fall into a battle stance, meeting its stare. For a brief instant the wolf's forehead wrinkles, as if displaying surprise at your sudden show of courage. Then its eyes narrow. Throwing back its head, the beast emits a knee-trembling howl—and then pounces in a savage blur of snapping teeth! It is time to fight:
Anticipating the wolf's savage attacks, you are able to dexterously weave between its snapping jaws and fearsome claws. The beast is powerful, but your attacks are faster and more precise. The battle is over in a matter of heartbeats; the wolf's blood-spattered corpse lies sprawled at your feet.
You may now help yourself to one of the following rewards:
Dire claw (left hand: dagger) +1 brawn +1 magic
Predator's pelt (cloak) +1 brawn
Wolf bone vest (chest) +1 speed +1 armor
With the beast of the barrows defeated you decide to return to Carvel, proudly displaying your newfound weapons and trophies. (Return to the map to continue your adventure.)
Pick a loot and a destination.
Overcome with elation at your hair-raising escape, you give a whoop of joy, punching the air.
It is then you hear a wolf-like snarl.
Your heart skips a beat. Slowly, you turn on the spot, the stench of wet fur drifting on the wind. The giant dire wolf is watching you with its glittering amber eyes, spit drooling from its fangs. The beast has waited for you. And once again, there is no escape.
But something has changed in you now. After your ordeal in the burial mound you feel different—more confident in your abilities. You have the chieftain's treasures to aid you—fine equipment from a bygone age; from a bygone hero.
You fall into a battle stance, meeting its stare. For a brief instant the wolf's forehead wrinkles, as if displaying surprise at your sudden show of courage. Then its eyes narrow. Throwing back its head, the beast emits a knee-trembling howl—and then pounces in a savage blur of snapping teeth! It is time to fight:
| Speed | Brawn | Armor | Health | |
| Dire wolf | 1 | 2 | 2 | 20 |
Round 1: Patio 9+2, Wolf 8+1. Damage 5+2-2=5, wolf's at 15.
Round 2:Patio 7+2, Wolf 5+1. Damage 3+2-2=3, wolf's at 12.
Round 3: Patio 9+2, Wolf 11+1 (prophecy'd, no damage.)
Round 4: Patio 2+2, Wolf 12+1. Damage 6+2-3=5, Patio's at 25.
Round 5: Patio 8+2, Wolf 8+1. Damage 4+2-2=4, wolf's at 8.
Round 6: Patio 7+2, Wolf 11+1. Damage 3+2-3=2, Patio's at 23.
Round 7: Patio 8+2, Wolf 10+1. Damage 1+2-3=0.
Round 8: Patio 6+2, Wolf 11+1. Damage 1+2-3=0.
Round 9: Patio 8+2 (charm'd, 10+2), Wolf 9+1. Damage 6+2-2=6, wolf's at 2.
Round 10: Patio 8+2, Wolf 3+1. Damage 5+2-2=5, wolf is dead!
Round 2:Patio 7+2, Wolf 5+1. Damage 3+2-2=3, wolf's at 12.
Round 3: Patio 9+2, Wolf 11+1 (prophecy'd, no damage.)
Round 4: Patio 2+2, Wolf 12+1. Damage 6+2-3=5, Patio's at 25.
Round 5: Patio 8+2, Wolf 8+1. Damage 4+2-2=4, wolf's at 8.
Round 6: Patio 7+2, Wolf 11+1. Damage 3+2-3=2, Patio's at 23.
Round 7: Patio 8+2, Wolf 10+1. Damage 1+2-3=0.
Round 8: Patio 6+2, Wolf 11+1. Damage 1+2-3=0.
Round 9: Patio 8+2 (charm'd, 10+2), Wolf 9+1. Damage 6+2-2=6, wolf's at 2.
Round 10: Patio 8+2, Wolf 3+1. Damage 5+2-2=5, wolf is dead!
You may now help yourself to one of the following rewards:
Dire claw (left hand: dagger) +1 brawn +1 magic
Predator's pelt (cloak) +1 brawn
Wolf bone vest (chest) +1 speed +1 armor
With the beast of the barrows defeated you decide to return to Carvel, proudly displaying your newfound weapons and trophies. (Return to the map to continue your adventure.)
Pick a loot and a destination.
Name: Mr. Patio
Speed: +1, Brawn: +2, Magic: +2, Armor: +3
Health: 30
Prophecy
bones
sure blade
calling
Map of Carvel
Money Pouch: 6 Crowns
Speed: +1, Brawn: +2, Magic: +2, Armor: +3
Health: 30
| Slot | Item | Speed | Brawn | Magic | Armor | Ability |
| Head | Plumed Helm | +1 | ||||
| Necklace | Blood Iron Knot | +1 | Charm | |||
| Cloak | Saddle Blanket | +1 | ||||
| Main Hand | Knight's Folly | +1 | +1 | |||
| Left Hand | ||||||
| Gloves | ||||||
| Chest | Rider's Jerkin | +1 | ||||
| Feet | ||||||
| Talisman | Crow Feather | +1 | ||||
| Ring 1 | All Hallow's Ring | +1 | ||||
| Ring 2 |
| Backpack | Item |
| 1 | Pot of healing |
| 2 | Pumpkin squash (2 uses) |
| 3 | Troll's Bones |
| 4 | |
| 5 |
Prophecy
bones
sure blade
calling
Map of Carvel
Money Pouch: 6 Crowns
Pseudo Stupidity wrote:This Applebees fucking sucks, much like all Applebees. I wanted to go to Femboy Hooters (communism).
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Omegonthesane
- Prince
- Posts: 3692
- Joined: Sat Sep 26, 2009 3:55 pm
Claw and 19.
What's the bet that Patio ends up going magic-primary the whole game like Trellis?
What's the bet that Patio ends up going magic-primary the whole game like Trellis?
Kaelik wrote:Because powerful men get away with terrible shit, and even the public domain ones get ignored, and then, when the floodgates open, it turns out there was a goddam flood behind it.
Zak S, Zak Smith, Dndwithpornstars, Zak Sabbath, Justin Bieber, shitmuffin
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angelfromanotherpin
- Overlord
- Posts: 9745
- Joined: Fri Mar 07, 2008 7:54 pm
In the last book, specing Mage was secret hard mode because your gear choices were much more limited. I think the only reason to do that again is to see if that's been addressed at all. Left to my own choice I'd spec Rogue because Rogue rewards maxing Speed and that's obviously already optimal.Omegonthesane wrote:What's the bet that Patio ends up going magic-primary the whole game like Trellis?
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Darth Rabbitt
- Overlord
- Posts: 8870
- Joined: Thu Feb 05, 2009 8:31 pm
- Location: In "In The Trenches," mostly.
- Contact:
(The weapons and armor in the Wiccan tomb are (like the chest) your pick of any two of three items, in this case a main hand axe that gives +1 to speed and brawn and the bleed ability, a cloak that gives +1 magic and the wisdom ability (+2 magic for one round/combat), and a pair of gloves that give +1 armor.)
The narrow street lurches dizzily from side to side, forcing you to cling to the nearest wall. You feel sick; every inch of your body burning as if on fire. Sweat stings your eyes, your head pulsing with pain. The guards thought you were just another drunk, thrown out onto the streets at closing time. But a passing pilgrim had taken pity on you, giving you directions to the local apothecary.
Letting go of the wall, you stagger onwards up the street. The focus on the lanterns hanging either side of a wooden door—its surface daubed with the symbol of a bottle.
A carriage rattles past, pulled by a team of horses. Their clattering hooves are as loud as thunder in your ears. You cover them with your hands, stumbling dazedly towards the door. Several times you lose your footing and fall painfully to your knees. But you manage to drag yourself up, determined to find a cure for your malady.
Elysium. You know that your body is craving more.
You raise a trembling hand and knock on the door. There is a painful wait while you hug your cramping stomach, teeth grinding noisily together.
From inside you hear muttering, then a catch being released. The door creaks open far enough to reveal a woman's face. She is elderly, with tousled grey hair spilling out of a white bonnet. A small pair of spectacles rest on the end of her nose. After taking one look at you, she opens the door wide and gestures for you to enter.
The room is small and filled with various bottles and pots. Before you can speak, the woman is already moving towards a side room. 'What is it?' she asks hurriedly. 'I doubt I can help you.'
'Elysium,' you croak, closing your eyes as the room tips wildly.
The healer freezes mid-step, glancing back at you with a frown.
'It's a long story,' you wheeze, forcing back another wave of nausea. 'Please, I need your help...'
'Indeed.' The woman gestures for you to follow. 'My name is Anna. This way, please.'
You follow her into a dimly lit room, cut from the grey rock of Carvel's hillside. A pallet bed rests against one wall, where a male patient lies on sweat-soaked sheets. He squirms in a feverish delirium.
The rest of the room is dominated by a wooden table, covered in more bottles and containers. A curtain divides this room from another area, where you glimpse a stack of crates piled high to the ceiling. Each one has the symbol of a rose stamped on the side.
Anna is already selecting various bottles from her collection. 'Elysium is very rare and very expensive. Did you expect me to just have some lying around?'
You rest your back against the wall, clutching your arms to stop them shaking. 'I had no other choice.'
The woman adds a series of fine powders to a trestle bowl. 'I don't need to ask how you came into contact with such a devilish concoction.' After crushing another ingredient with a mortar she mixes the parts together, before pouring them into a bottle and adding a green-tinged liquid.
'You know, these ingredients aren't cheap.' Anna shakes the bottle, watching as the contents dissolve. 'One of these powders alone is five hundred gold crowns.'
You balk. 'I...I can't pay you...I...' Feebly, you try and locate your money pouch, hands grappling at your belt.
The woman watches and shakes her head.
'Enough. I knew you would not have the funds. So you can do me a favor instead, agreed?' She raises the bottle, which now contains a bubbling pale-green potion. 'This is not Elysium. But it is the next best thing. It will relieve your symptoms—your addiction. This potion is your true freedom.'
'I'll do whatever you ask,' you croak, reaching out for it. 'Please...'
Anna hands you the potion and watches intently while you drink its contents. The liquid tastes like sour apples with a hint of cinnamon. Once you have emptied the bottle, you feel your temperature starting to subside. The room has stopped spinning.
'Good, smiles Anna, taking the bottle from you. 'Now, you're going to repay me by helping this man.' She nods to the patient, who is tossing and turning, gripped in a feverish nightmare.
'You couldn't cure him?' you ask, surprised.
'I need something first.' Her eyes wander to an object lying on the table. It looks like a charred and blackened piece of wood.
Will you:
Ask about her patient?
Ask about the strange object?
Ask about the crates in the other room?
Quest: Curse of Crow Rock
The narrow street lurches dizzily from side to side, forcing you to cling to the nearest wall. You feel sick; every inch of your body burning as if on fire. Sweat stings your eyes, your head pulsing with pain. The guards thought you were just another drunk, thrown out onto the streets at closing time. But a passing pilgrim had taken pity on you, giving you directions to the local apothecary.
Letting go of the wall, you stagger onwards up the street. The focus on the lanterns hanging either side of a wooden door—its surface daubed with the symbol of a bottle.
A carriage rattles past, pulled by a team of horses. Their clattering hooves are as loud as thunder in your ears. You cover them with your hands, stumbling dazedly towards the door. Several times you lose your footing and fall painfully to your knees. But you manage to drag yourself up, determined to find a cure for your malady.
Elysium. You know that your body is craving more.
You raise a trembling hand and knock on the door. There is a painful wait while you hug your cramping stomach, teeth grinding noisily together.
From inside you hear muttering, then a catch being released. The door creaks open far enough to reveal a woman's face. She is elderly, with tousled grey hair spilling out of a white bonnet. A small pair of spectacles rest on the end of her nose. After taking one look at you, she opens the door wide and gestures for you to enter.
The room is small and filled with various bottles and pots. Before you can speak, the woman is already moving towards a side room. 'What is it?' she asks hurriedly. 'I doubt I can help you.'
'Elysium,' you croak, closing your eyes as the room tips wildly.
The healer freezes mid-step, glancing back at you with a frown.
'It's a long story,' you wheeze, forcing back another wave of nausea. 'Please, I need your help...'
'Indeed.' The woman gestures for you to follow. 'My name is Anna. This way, please.'
You follow her into a dimly lit room, cut from the grey rock of Carvel's hillside. A pallet bed rests against one wall, where a male patient lies on sweat-soaked sheets. He squirms in a feverish delirium.
The rest of the room is dominated by a wooden table, covered in more bottles and containers. A curtain divides this room from another area, where you glimpse a stack of crates piled high to the ceiling. Each one has the symbol of a rose stamped on the side.
Anna is already selecting various bottles from her collection. 'Elysium is very rare and very expensive. Did you expect me to just have some lying around?'
You rest your back against the wall, clutching your arms to stop them shaking. 'I had no other choice.'
The woman adds a series of fine powders to a trestle bowl. 'I don't need to ask how you came into contact with such a devilish concoction.' After crushing another ingredient with a mortar she mixes the parts together, before pouring them into a bottle and adding a green-tinged liquid.
'You know, these ingredients aren't cheap.' Anna shakes the bottle, watching as the contents dissolve. 'One of these powders alone is five hundred gold crowns.'
You balk. 'I...I can't pay you...I...' Feebly, you try and locate your money pouch, hands grappling at your belt.
The woman watches and shakes her head.
'Enough. I knew you would not have the funds. So you can do me a favor instead, agreed?' She raises the bottle, which now contains a bubbling pale-green potion. 'This is not Elysium. But it is the next best thing. It will relieve your symptoms—your addiction. This potion is your true freedom.'
'I'll do whatever you ask,' you croak, reaching out for it. 'Please...'
Anna hands you the potion and watches intently while you drink its contents. The liquid tastes like sour apples with a hint of cinnamon. Once you have emptied the bottle, you feel your temperature starting to subside. The room has stopped spinning.
'Good, smiles Anna, taking the bottle from you. 'Now, you're going to repay me by helping this man.' She nods to the patient, who is tossing and turning, gripped in a feverish nightmare.
'You couldn't cure him?' you ask, surprised.
'I need something first.' Her eyes wander to an object lying on the table. It looks like a charred and blackened piece of wood.
Will you:
Ask about her patient?
Ask about the strange object?
Ask about the crates in the other room?
Name: Mr. Patio
Speed: +1, Brawn: +3, Magic: +3, Armor: +3
Health: 30
Prophecy
bones
sure blade
calling
Map of Carvel
Money Pouch: 6 Crowns
Speed: +1, Brawn: +3, Magic: +3, Armor: +3
Health: 30
| Slot | Item | Speed | Brawn | Magic | Armor | Ability |
| Head | Plumed Helm | +1 | ||||
| Necklace | Blood Iron Knot | +1 | Charm | |||
| Cloak | Saddle Blanket | +1 | ||||
| Main Hand | Knight's Folly | +1 | +1 | |||
| Left Hand | Dire Claw | +1 | +1 | |||
| Gloves | ||||||
| Chest | Rider's Jerkin | +1 | ||||
| Feet | ||||||
| Talisman | Crow Feather | +1 | ||||
| Ring 1 | All Hallow's Ring | +1 | ||||
| Ring 2 |
| Backpack | Item |
| 1 | Pot of healing |
| 2 | Pumpkin squash (2 uses) |
| 3 | Troll's Bones |
| 4 | |
| 5 |
Prophecy
bones
sure blade
calling
Map of Carvel
Money Pouch: 6 Crowns
Last edited by Darth Rabbitt on Sat May 26, 2018 3:40 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Pseudo Stupidity wrote:This Applebees fucking sucks, much like all Applebees. I wanted to go to Femboy Hooters (communism).
-
angelfromanotherpin
- Overlord
- Posts: 9745
- Joined: Fri Mar 07, 2008 7:54 pm