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Iren's PbP - Chapter 2
Moderator: Irenaeus
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Val the Moofia Boss
- Turtle
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Geolocation
Adventurer's Guild
((For the wilderness group, as far as I know, none of us have actual medical skill. Gunthard has bandages on hand and 14 luck, so he could attempt to save Stein.))
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Kalarion
- Turtle
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"If they believe they can conquer the undercroft alone, let them. The thing is for the threat to be dealt with. Two smaller groups may accomplish more than one bumbling blob, and I have had enough excitement for one day."
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Val the Moofia Boss
- Turtle
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((We may also need to use the flint and steel to start a fire, maybe to cauterize Stein though I am not sure if we have the metal tools required and if that would fall under needing medical knowledge. It might be best to hunker down for the night, either here next to the road or further off. We might need a watch.))
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ERYFKRAD
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Hrod can keep watch while the rest of you... Rest. As for Stein, best we can do is stop blood loss by applying pressure, if that.Val the Moofia Boss wrote: ↑ November 26th, 2025, 15:36((We may also need to use the flint and steel to start a fire, maybe to cauterize Stein though I am not sure if we have the metal tools required and if that would fall under needing medical knowledge. It might be best to hunker down for the night, either here next to the road or further off. We might need a watch.))
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Val the Moofia Boss
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Gunthard quickly looks around in the fading light, trying to discern if there is any stranger or creature in the vicinity. Satisfied, he counts which of his companions are left standing, and then hurries to the fallen swordsman's side, splashing into the mud. The lumberjack hauls him out onto a nearby dry patch, then begins rummaging through his sacks. His eyes strain. He dumps the flint and steel on the ground. "We need light". Gunthard produces bandages and begins tending to Stein's bleeding arm.
Treating Stein
Result: 22
1d20 roll:
1d20
= 11
Stein's HP is exactly 0:
5
= 5
Stein has no constitution bonus:
4
= 4
Gunthard's survival skill:
2
= 2
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Irenaeus
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Geolocation
THE FOREST: NIGHTFALL AFTER SLAUGHTER
The clearing has gone deathly still and steam blows off the split-open bodies of the giant slugs, with their acidic ichor hissing as it sinks into the cold earth.
(Party gains a total XP of 130, divided by Stein, Hrod, Gunthard, Tillomar, Ostgar and Alfwine. Each adventurer gains 22 XP).
The dead wizard’s limp body lies in the mud, his gear around. The water from the blast that felled Stein is still lingering in the churned soil.
Gunthard is the first to move. He splashes through the mud, hauls Stein’s inert body onto drier ground, and tears open his bundle of bandages with shaking hands. “Light, we need light,” he says, tossing his flint and steel to the side.
Hrod kicks dry twigs into a small pile and sparks climb toward the darkening sky. "It’s going to be a long night."
Fergal stays glued to Stein’s side, whining softly, pressing against the unconscious man’s arm as if refusing to give him up to death.
Gunthard works quickly at wrapping the chest, packing the deeper wounds, binding the ribs. His hands are rough but steady. His Survival training shows; he works like a man who has kept companions alive on unforgiving slides in the mountains.
Hrod stands nearby, axe still slick with slug-mucus, watching the tree line in the deepening dusk. “I’ll keep watch,” he says simply. “Slug-things won’t be the last out here.”
Ostgar, tired, wipes his spear clean and crouches close. “Not sure we should stay, but we can’t move him either. Should we keep going?”
Tillomar nods, glancing down the wizard’s trail. “No lights. No movement. Nothing but forest. We should be safe.”
STEIN’S FLICKERING SOUL
The Threshold and the Shallows before Judgment
For Stein, the world is far away. The forest fades and water rises around him.
He drifts in a gray void, where cold water laps at his ankles. Stein tries to move but he is frozen, he tries to talk but he is mute. Suddenly, he hears a faint voice saying:
“Alchemy bends nature, but some forces bend back.”
Stein stands at the center of a shoreline of shifting light. Four paths of water flow into a shared confluence:
• Gold-white, descending from above
• Deep green-blue, flowing sideways like a slow river
• Cool grey, flowing inward and spiraling around
• A thin, black current flowing straight downward like a whirlpool
Suddenly, a man rises dripping from the green-blue current. His body is whole but semi-transparent, like a reflection in water. His eyes burn with conviction and hatred. It’s the wizard that Stein just killed.
“You fool. You’ve slain a servant of the True Cycle. Of the Waters that remember. Of the Currents that cleanse. Of the Eternal River.”
He brandishes his wand, it looks exactly like the silver one he had in life, but its glow matches the river light. His ring is glowing even stronger.
“Your Church blinds you, entraps you. Your "Light" burns away the old truths.”
He floats closer to Stein, water dripping.
“You want your family restored? Your name redeemed? Then the River would have carried you back, reborn and renewed. If you had not fought us.”
He snarls and floats away.
“You chose your side, I've had enough of you! I'm moving to the River Court.”
From the grey spiral approaches that faraway shadowed figure, a familiar face you can't place. It looks like an elder Steiner, perhaps an ancestor. His eyes are calm, but sorrowful.
“Child… listen to neither pride nor bitterness. The Quieting is not punishment. It is healing. A cleansing of what our line allowed to take root.”
He points toward the black current.
“What was broken was broken by choice, not fate. You carry the burden, but not the guilt. Do not inherit our mistakes.”
As if following a determined order or just overhearing the conversation, the black current boils upward. A distorted figure rises with a similar face as the Quieted ancestor. He is burned, warped, edges dissolving into shadow. He speaks in hissing tones.
“Mistakes? No… we dared. We reached... Alchemy is our path to mastery. To power.”
He floats close; the water around him instantly turns black.
“Do you miss the brewery? The wealth? The respect? All of it can be restored. More than restored.”
He grins.
“Follow the Wound. Break the old laws. Let the Ruined Prince’s fire remake what was taken from you.”
His hand touches Stein’s cheek and his fingers leave black marks.
“Your anger is your truest inheritance.”
Light. A figure of soft radiance floats down the golden current. It is shaped like a giant ten times the size of man but has no features. A calm and resonant voice is felt inside Stein’s skull as if coming from this figure:
“Stein von Steiner… you stand at a confluence of soul paths. Acting as a Voice-bearer, I am here to assert the supreme truth: you were forged by the First Light, the sole creator, and the ultimate origin of all souls, law, and conscience. Like all creations, your soul was made good, though through parasitic corruption, it is now dimmed by sorrow. In fact, the blow that struck you was meant to drown more than your breath.”
The figure points toward the black current.
“The corruption you’ve glimpsed in those woods is not natural. It is not the Eternal River, it is a created spirit. Powerful, valid but led astray and corrupting others. The work of ones who drink from the Wound.”
The figure takes Stein out of the water by its huge hand and shows the golden path rising beyond them.
“You have not yet finished choosing who you are. I have seen your courage, you should cleave to virtue and repentance and avoid the path down the Wound. The Light promises mercy to the repentant through purification of the senses and the spirit. Stein, I cannot coerce fate, but only present the eternal truth and the sacred nature of free will.”
The giant figure places him back on the threshold.
There is a crescendo moment where Stein’s Wisdom asserts itself, all voices that so orderly spoke seem to overlap in chaos.
Messenger: “You are not defined by your ancestors’ failures.”
Wizard: “Your bloodline was meant for the River, give yourself to its memory.”
Quieted Ancestor: “Walk carefully, child. Do not mistake vengeance for purpose.”
Corrupt Ancestor: “Your Purpose is vengeance! Burn and rise; you deserve more than this wandering life.”
Stein realizes something none of them said explicitly; the corruption in his family never came from alchemy alone but from pride and the refusal to accept limitations. He understands that the slugs are linked to the magic wand, through the mutant corruption. That this is what happens when lesser gods and broken souls tamper with powers they cannot control. He sees through the wizard the forest he was just now and a magic river underneath it.
Stein finally manages to move and yell, coughing up water. He is back from the threshold. Was it all a dream? He wakes with a gasp, chest spasming. Stein comes to with 1 HP, barely conscious, his ribs taped tight and breath shallow, but alive. Cold breath floods Stein’s lungs. His eyes snap open. Fergal growls. Gunthard’s hands press bandages to him. Mud sucks at his boots.
He is alive and changed. He has a fragment of Messenger-light in his hands and a black mark where the corrupt ancestor touched him.
Gunthard lets out the breath he didn't know he’d been holding. “Stay down,” he mutters. “You tried to breathe a whole river.” Stein can barely whisper, but there is clarity in his eyes. “The wand… the slugs… alchemy. Corrupted.”
The others exchange uneasy looks. Night closes in fast.
(The party must decide if they will set camp or carry Stein down the forest somehow, to reach the Hunters’ Lodge in the middle of the night)
VERTIDOR'S REST: NIGHT IN THE INN
The party settles in, no music, no revelry. Outside, the wind blows harder, rattling the shutters like playful fingers. Everyone is fast asleep.
Somewhere in the dead middle of the night, the inn creaks…
once…
twice…
as if something heavy shifted beneath the floorboards.
No one investigates. Not yet.
Dawn of the Next Day: The Descent Awaits
Before sunrise, Brenna rouses them with warm bread and cold water. When the first pale light filters through the shutters, the adventurers gather their gear.
Olwin and Brenna stand at the doorway, faces drawn but resolute.
“Come back today still, if you can,” she says, handing Kal a small loaf of yesterday’s bread. “And if you can’t… we’ll keep the lamps lit for a few days.”
Cnut barks once, ready. The inn door opens.
The day of the descent begins.
Assembling the Rat Army
Rikko, Jarlo, Clem, Leno, and Ionus Felix’s rough-and-ready auxiliary force. All five straighten when the adventurers appear outside, proud, excited, too green by half. Each carries whatever weapon they could muster: short spears, clubs, mismatched shields, and layers of rags tied over their bodies like would-be fighters.
They eagerly show Felix:
• Two oil flasks looted from home stores
• Three torches swiped from a neighbor’s shed
• A fishing net
• A wooden religious token of the One God, roughly carved
• Various knives of questionable sharpness
It’s little, but it’s earnest. The gear left behind by Wolfgang, Norman, George, and Linno is enough to mount an expedition, though clearly it was only the scraps they hadn’t carried deeper beneath the Church.
Felix takes as henchmen the twins for the shieldwall. Jarlo and Rikko are told to carry on their hijinks, Little Clem is told to scram but he’ll follow the two other would-thieves nonetheless. Thus, the “rat army” becomes the “rat duo”, and the adventurers set out to the Church.
Kal Arion shoulders his pack. “If the others descended alone, then fate has split our paths. Our duty remains. We descend today.”
Felix stretches. “I’ve had enough excitement yesterday. But fine, I’m refreshed.”
Milo swallows, checking Cnut’s collar. “What exactly are we looking for down there?”
Kal answers from behind the porch:
“Truth be told? Something wicked and old.” He pauses. “And something that doesn’t want to be found.”
In Vertidor’s Rest this morning, the streets are nearly empty.
(The Party may decide to go somewhere else - bailiff hall, market, quiet hill, etc.- instead of directly to the Church).
The clearing has gone deathly still and steam blows off the split-open bodies of the giant slugs, with their acidic ichor hissing as it sinks into the cold earth.
(Party gains a total XP of 130, divided by Stein, Hrod, Gunthard, Tillomar, Ostgar and Alfwine. Each adventurer gains 22 XP).
The dead wizard’s limp body lies in the mud, his gear around. The water from the blast that felled Stein is still lingering in the churned soil.
Gunthard is the first to move. He splashes through the mud, hauls Stein’s inert body onto drier ground, and tears open his bundle of bandages with shaking hands. “Light, we need light,” he says, tossing his flint and steel to the side.
Hrod kicks dry twigs into a small pile and sparks climb toward the darkening sky. "It’s going to be a long night."
Fergal stays glued to Stein’s side, whining softly, pressing against the unconscious man’s arm as if refusing to give him up to death.
Gunthard works quickly at wrapping the chest, packing the deeper wounds, binding the ribs. His hands are rough but steady. His Survival training shows; he works like a man who has kept companions alive on unforgiving slides in the mountains.
Hrod stands nearby, axe still slick with slug-mucus, watching the tree line in the deepening dusk. “I’ll keep watch,” he says simply. “Slug-things won’t be the last out here.”
Ostgar, tired, wipes his spear clean and crouches close. “Not sure we should stay, but we can’t move him either. Should we keep going?”
Tillomar nods, glancing down the wizard’s trail. “No lights. No movement. Nothing but forest. We should be safe.”
STEIN’S FLICKERING SOUL
The Threshold and the Shallows before Judgment
For Stein, the world is far away. The forest fades and water rises around him.
He drifts in a gray void, where cold water laps at his ankles. Stein tries to move but he is frozen, he tries to talk but he is mute. Suddenly, he hears a faint voice saying:
“Alchemy bends nature, but some forces bend back.”
Stein stands at the center of a shoreline of shifting light. Four paths of water flow into a shared confluence:
• Gold-white, descending from above
• Deep green-blue, flowing sideways like a slow river
• Cool grey, flowing inward and spiraling around
• A thin, black current flowing straight downward like a whirlpool
Suddenly, a man rises dripping from the green-blue current. His body is whole but semi-transparent, like a reflection in water. His eyes burn with conviction and hatred. It’s the wizard that Stein just killed.
“You fool. You’ve slain a servant of the True Cycle. Of the Waters that remember. Of the Currents that cleanse. Of the Eternal River.”
He brandishes his wand, it looks exactly like the silver one he had in life, but its glow matches the river light. His ring is glowing even stronger.
“Your Church blinds you, entraps you. Your "Light" burns away the old truths.”
He floats closer to Stein, water dripping.
“You want your family restored? Your name redeemed? Then the River would have carried you back, reborn and renewed. If you had not fought us.”
He snarls and floats away.
“You chose your side, I've had enough of you! I'm moving to the River Court.”
From the grey spiral approaches that faraway shadowed figure, a familiar face you can't place. It looks like an elder Steiner, perhaps an ancestor. His eyes are calm, but sorrowful.
“Child… listen to neither pride nor bitterness. The Quieting is not punishment. It is healing. A cleansing of what our line allowed to take root.”
He points toward the black current.
“What was broken was broken by choice, not fate. You carry the burden, but not the guilt. Do not inherit our mistakes.”
As if following a determined order or just overhearing the conversation, the black current boils upward. A distorted figure rises with a similar face as the Quieted ancestor. He is burned, warped, edges dissolving into shadow. He speaks in hissing tones.
“Mistakes? No… we dared. We reached... Alchemy is our path to mastery. To power.”
He floats close; the water around him instantly turns black.
“Do you miss the brewery? The wealth? The respect? All of it can be restored. More than restored.”
He grins.
“Follow the Wound. Break the old laws. Let the Ruined Prince’s fire remake what was taken from you.”
His hand touches Stein’s cheek and his fingers leave black marks.
“Your anger is your truest inheritance.”
Light. A figure of soft radiance floats down the golden current. It is shaped like a giant ten times the size of man but has no features. A calm and resonant voice is felt inside Stein’s skull as if coming from this figure:
“Stein von Steiner… you stand at a confluence of soul paths. Acting as a Voice-bearer, I am here to assert the supreme truth: you were forged by the First Light, the sole creator, and the ultimate origin of all souls, law, and conscience. Like all creations, your soul was made good, though through parasitic corruption, it is now dimmed by sorrow. In fact, the blow that struck you was meant to drown more than your breath.”
The figure points toward the black current.
“The corruption you’ve glimpsed in those woods is not natural. It is not the Eternal River, it is a created spirit. Powerful, valid but led astray and corrupting others. The work of ones who drink from the Wound.”
The figure takes Stein out of the water by its huge hand and shows the golden path rising beyond them.
“You have not yet finished choosing who you are. I have seen your courage, you should cleave to virtue and repentance and avoid the path down the Wound. The Light promises mercy to the repentant through purification of the senses and the spirit. Stein, I cannot coerce fate, but only present the eternal truth and the sacred nature of free will.”
The giant figure places him back on the threshold.
There is a crescendo moment where Stein’s Wisdom asserts itself, all voices that so orderly spoke seem to overlap in chaos.
Messenger: “You are not defined by your ancestors’ failures.”
Wizard: “Your bloodline was meant for the River, give yourself to its memory.”
Quieted Ancestor: “Walk carefully, child. Do not mistake vengeance for purpose.”
Corrupt Ancestor: “Your Purpose is vengeance! Burn and rise; you deserve more than this wandering life.”
Stein realizes something none of them said explicitly; the corruption in his family never came from alchemy alone but from pride and the refusal to accept limitations. He understands that the slugs are linked to the magic wand, through the mutant corruption. That this is what happens when lesser gods and broken souls tamper with powers they cannot control. He sees through the wizard the forest he was just now and a magic river underneath it.
Stein finally manages to move and yell, coughing up water. He is back from the threshold. Was it all a dream? He wakes with a gasp, chest spasming. Stein comes to with 1 HP, barely conscious, his ribs taped tight and breath shallow, but alive. Cold breath floods Stein’s lungs. His eyes snap open. Fergal growls. Gunthard’s hands press bandages to him. Mud sucks at his boots.
He is alive and changed. He has a fragment of Messenger-light in his hands and a black mark where the corrupt ancestor touched him.
Gunthard lets out the breath he didn't know he’d been holding. “Stay down,” he mutters. “You tried to breathe a whole river.” Stein can barely whisper, but there is clarity in his eyes. “The wand… the slugs… alchemy. Corrupted.”
The others exchange uneasy looks. Night closes in fast.
(The party must decide if they will set camp or carry Stein down the forest somehow, to reach the Hunters’ Lodge in the middle of the night)
VERTIDOR'S REST: NIGHT IN THE INN
The party settles in, no music, no revelry. Outside, the wind blows harder, rattling the shutters like playful fingers. Everyone is fast asleep.
Somewhere in the dead middle of the night, the inn creaks…
once…
twice…
as if something heavy shifted beneath the floorboards.
No one investigates. Not yet.
Dawn of the Next Day: The Descent Awaits
Before sunrise, Brenna rouses them with warm bread and cold water. When the first pale light filters through the shutters, the adventurers gather their gear.
Olwin and Brenna stand at the doorway, faces drawn but resolute.
“Come back today still, if you can,” she says, handing Kal a small loaf of yesterday’s bread. “And if you can’t… we’ll keep the lamps lit for a few days.”
Cnut barks once, ready. The inn door opens.
The day of the descent begins.
Assembling the Rat Army
Rikko, Jarlo, Clem, Leno, and Ionus Felix’s rough-and-ready auxiliary force. All five straighten when the adventurers appear outside, proud, excited, too green by half. Each carries whatever weapon they could muster: short spears, clubs, mismatched shields, and layers of rags tied over their bodies like would-be fighters.
They eagerly show Felix:
• Two oil flasks looted from home stores
• Three torches swiped from a neighbor’s shed
• A fishing net
• A wooden religious token of the One God, roughly carved
• Various knives of questionable sharpness
It’s little, but it’s earnest. The gear left behind by Wolfgang, Norman, George, and Linno is enough to mount an expedition, though clearly it was only the scraps they hadn’t carried deeper beneath the Church.
Felix takes as henchmen the twins for the shieldwall. Jarlo and Rikko are told to carry on their hijinks, Little Clem is told to scram but he’ll follow the two other would-thieves nonetheless. Thus, the “rat army” becomes the “rat duo”, and the adventurers set out to the Church.
Kal Arion shoulders his pack. “If the others descended alone, then fate has split our paths. Our duty remains. We descend today.”
Felix stretches. “I’ve had enough excitement yesterday. But fine, I’m refreshed.”
Milo swallows, checking Cnut’s collar. “What exactly are we looking for down there?”
Kal answers from behind the porch:
“Truth be told? Something wicked and old.” He pauses. “And something that doesn’t want to be found.”
In Vertidor’s Rest this morning, the streets are nearly empty.
(The Party may decide to go somewhere else - bailiff hall, market, quiet hill, etc.- instead of directly to the Church).
Iren's Play-by-post: General Discussion
Upcoming: Karatasian Kings - A CK2 Random World LP
Winner of RPGHQ4 - The Search For Vengeance
Upcoming: Karatasian Kings - A CK2 Random World LP
Winner of RPGHQ4 - The Search For Vengeance
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Val the Moofia Boss
- Turtle
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Geolocation
Adventurer's Guild
Gunthard gives Stein a thump on the shoulder before standing up. "I'd say we should hold here for the night, and continue to the lodge in the day when there is light and we are more well rested. Keep a watch rotating every 2 hours." Gunthard begins scouring the immediate area for stones to build a wall around the fire and dry sticks and small logs to drop into it.
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Stack of Turtles
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Geolocation
Alfwine nods along and makes a token effort to appear to be helping.
VAE VICTIS
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ERYFKRAD
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Geolocation
"Aye, best we bide hither until night. But with Zollo having chosen to walk his own road, are we of need to make way to the Lodge?" He grunts. "In any case, dawn shall find us better placed to find where we must be." He returns back to the perimeter of whatever camping they make, taking first watch.Val the Moofia Boss wrote: ↑ December 5th, 2025, 20:46Gunthard gives Stein a thump on the shoulder before standing up. "I'd say we should hold here for the night, and continue to the lodge in the day when there is light and we are more well rested. Keep a watch rotating every 2 hours." Gunthard begins scouring the immediate area for stones to build a wall around the fire and dry sticks and small logs to drop into it.
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Oyster Sauce
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Geolocation
Adventurer's Guild
Ostgar will obediently go along with whichever decision the group makes.
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DemoGraph
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Adventurer's Guild
To the Church we go!
Felix takes a net, both oil flasks and one of the torches from the boys. He'll throw them from the second row if some kerfuffle starts.
To Jarlo, Rikko and Little Clem he says the following: Go to Quiet hill. Find out if there's something out of the ordinary: strange people, disturbed graves, something peculiar in the houses nearby. Look for underground entrances, especially the new ones and the ones that shouldn't be there. But don't go below! Your task is scounting, not dying. If you find anything urgent, come to the Church, we'll discuss it.
Clem, you will be their guardian angel. Stay some distance away from them, don't go together with them, don't talk to them. Pretend that you're in the area for some personal business. If you see that they got into trouble and can't get out by themselves, do not, I repeat, do not try to help them. Immediately run to the guardhouse for help, then come to the Church and to the Inn and tell us what happened.
Felix takes a net, both oil flasks and one of the torches from the boys. He'll throw them from the second row if some kerfuffle starts.
To Jarlo, Rikko and Little Clem he says the following: Go to Quiet hill. Find out if there's something out of the ordinary: strange people, disturbed graves, something peculiar in the houses nearby. Look for underground entrances, especially the new ones and the ones that shouldn't be there. But don't go below! Your task is scounting, not dying. If you find anything urgent, come to the Church, we'll discuss it.
Clem, you will be their guardian angel. Stay some distance away from them, don't go together with them, don't talk to them. Pretend that you're in the area for some personal business. If you see that they got into trouble and can't get out by themselves, do not, I repeat, do not try to help them. Immediately run to the guardhouse for help, then come to the Church and to the Inn and tell us what happened.
Last edited by DemoGraph on December 6th, 2025, 20:29, edited 1 time in total.
Iren's PbP - Felix
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TKVNC
- Posts: 3078
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Geolocation
Adventurer's Guild
Tillomar slings his bow across his shoulders. He looks toward Hrod and states simply...
"I agree. These woods don't seem safe to travel in the dark. It's not practical as we are, it's safer to wait until dawn..."
He turns to Fergal, and whistles sharply. The hound walks over to him, then idles nearby.
Tillomar turns his gaze to Gunthard, looking briefly at Stein before speaking again...
"We should sweep the ground, and find some wood to build a basic shelter. Our friend here might do better if we can at least keep him warm, for now."
Tillomar knows Survival and Understands the Seasons and the Land. He scans around, looking for fallen trees, then pulls his axe from his waist.
"Get a fire going, I'll be back shortly."
Tillomar travels a short distance beyond the clearing, and begins gathering wood...
Going to roll luck, because it seems a sensible choice?
"I agree. These woods don't seem safe to travel in the dark. It's not practical as we are, it's safer to wait until dawn..."
He turns to Fergal, and whistles sharply. The hound walks over to him, then idles nearby.
Tillomar turns his gaze to Gunthard, looking briefly at Stein before speaking again...
"We should sweep the ground, and find some wood to build a basic shelter. Our friend here might do better if we can at least keep him warm, for now."
Tillomar knows Survival and Understands the Seasons and the Land. He scans around, looking for fallen trees, then pulls his axe from his waist.
"Get a fire going, I'll be back shortly."
Tillomar travels a short distance beyond the clearing, and begins gathering wood...
Going to roll luck, because it seems a sensible choice?
My Mods:
Kenshi:
viewtopic.php?t=3219-under-armour-edits-1-0-kenshi - Under Armour Edits
viewtopic.php?f=26&t=3262-face-expansion-1-0-kenshi - Face Expansion
Kenshi:
viewtopic.php?t=3219-under-armour-edits-1-0-kenshi - Under Armour Edits
viewtopic.php?f=26&t=3262-face-expansion-1-0-kenshi - Face Expansion
Luck
Result: 7
Luck Roll:
1d20
= 4
Luck Modifier:
3
= 3
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SpellSword
- Posts: 1324
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Geolocation
Adventurer's Guild
► Quick summary
He summons what strength remains to him and addresses the rest of the party as loudly as he can manage, which is a far bit quieter than he'd like. "Everyone still in one piece?" Glancing around, he notes the headcount seems off.
Although it would be not only easier but also a welcome respite to succumb to his fatigue and rest, he suspects there is an important task that can only be accomplished if attended to immediately. Retrieving a bottle from his still wet coat, he uncorks it.
There wasn't time to waste; there never is. He could already imagine his liquid prey escaping into the ground. Taking only the briefest sip for himself, Stein grudgingly pours the remaining alcohol onto the thirsty earth.
The sight of the label of a brewery now long gone adorning the rapidly emptying vessel, its design marred with a disturbing red stain, fills Stein Von Steiner with grim determination as he watches it drain the last of its precious cargo. The necessary anguish of possibly meaninglessly forfeiting one of his last keepsakes on an uncertain gamble stings him almost as badly as his physical wounds. Then moving with what haste his battered frame allows, he finds the deepest of the nearby pools of water left by the magical torrent that had laid him low. Thankful for his gloves, he thrusts the empty bottle held in his white knuckled hand into its shallow depths, all the while watching the water feverishly for signs of danger.
With his mouth still filled with a lingering taste of the past and his hand clutching what may be the key to an uncertain future, the phantom voice's words return unbidden to his mind "Alchemy bends nature, but some forces bend back." Trying to bolster his courage, Stein answers aloud "We'll see who bends and who breaks." He keeps his voice steady, but despite himself, his hand shakes ever so slightly with fear.
► Out-Of-Character
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The three evils that humanity faces:
Censorship
Telemetry
DRM
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Irenaeus
- Posts: 10784
- Joined: Sep 29, '23
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Geolocation
CAMPING AMONG THE DEAD SLUGS
The clearing is slowly falling into the night. The corpses of the giant slugs lie split across the muddy ground, their acidic fluids quietly eating into the soil. The wizard’s body remains where it fell, twisted among the puddles left by the magical torrent that nearly drowned Stein.
Gunthard wastes no time, he thumps Stein once on the shoulder before pushing himself upright. “I’d say we should hold here for the night. Marching with the wounded through these woods in the dark is a fine way to die.” he grumbles. Gunthard begins gathering stones, building a rough ring for the fire. “A watch every two hours.”
Hrod approves. “Aye. Best we bide here until dawn.” The warrior wipes slug ichor from his axe before stepping into the edge of the trees, watching the dark beyond the firelight. “But with Zollo walking his own road… are we of need to make way to the Lodge?" he grunts.
Tillomar slings his bow across his shoulders as he agrees naturally. “These woods aren’t safe to travel in the dark. It's not practical as we are, it's safer to wait until dawn...” he says. He whistles once and Fergal trots over and settles beside the wounded man. Tillomar turns his gaze to Gunthard, looking briefly at Stein before speaking again…“We should sweep the ground, and find some wood to build a basic shelter. Our friend here might do better if we can at least keep him warm, for now.” With that, the ranger lifts his axe and goes briefly among the trees to fetch wood. "Get a fire going, I'll be back shortly."
Ostgar follows the others’ lead, gathering sticks for the fire while Alfwine contributes what little effort he can. Soon the clearing fills with the quiet sounds of survival work: snapping branches, scraping stones, the dull drag of wood through damp leaves.
STEIN’S WORK
Stein tries to sit up. The attempt nearly knocks the breath from him. Gunthard’s bandages hold, but his ribs protest fiercely. Still, he forces himself upright. “Everyone still in one piece?” he asks quietly. The others answer with nods or muttered reassurances. He lets out a sigh of relief as he takes in the situation.
Then Stein reaches into his soaked coat and pulls free one of the last bottles he carries from the ruined Steiner brewery. The bottle catches the firelight. Its once-proud design is stained with dried red as the mark of bloody fight during the rat infestation in the cellar back in Vertidor. He uncorks the bottle and takes the smallest sip, then pours the rest slowly into the churned mud where the wizard’s magic flooded the ground. The alcohol vanishes instantly into the thirsty earth.
Stein stares at the empty bottle, now another relic gone. Then he limps toward the deepest puddle left by the magical torrent, it’s muddy waters lying still beneath the rising moon. Stein kneels, gloved hand steady despite the tremor in his arm, he plunges the bottle beneath the surface carefully.
For a moment nothing happens, then the water shifts inwards with some violence and the bottle fills. When Stein lifts it back into the air, the liquid inside swirls slowly, as though something within it remembers movement. The whisper returns to him “Alchemy bends nature…” Stein corks the bottle carefully. “We’ll see who bends,” he mutters. “And who breaks.” He fills a second bottle.
THE WATCH
Night deepens and Gunthard’s fire finally catches, flames licking up through the stone ring. Tillomar returns with branches and quickly builds a crude shelter against the wind. Fergal refuses to leave Stein’s side. Hrod takes the first watch.
The forest beyond the firelight is dark and utterly silent. Once, he thinks he hears water moving somewhere beneath the earth, but the sound quickly disappears. The slug corpses are a sight to behold in the fire light. The wizard’s corpse lies still. Behind him the camp sleeps uneasily all night, as the watch shifts without notable events.
The sun begins to rise over the broken clearing. The forest is watching. Time to wake up and move.
VERTIDOR’S REST: THE CHURCH'S UNDERCROFT
Morning comes grey and cold as Kal Arion leads the group directly through the silent streets of Vertidor’s Rest toward the Church. Milo follows with Cnut close at heel. Felix walks beside him while the “rat duo” (Jarlo and Rikko) trail behind with mismatched shields and weapons. Little Clem lurks nearby despite earlier instructions.
The town feels emptier than ever, with doors are barred and windows shuttered. At the Church, the doors stand open. Inside, candles burn low along the altar. Father Altanis kneels in prayer. He rises slowly when the adventurers enter. “You have come after all.”
Kal nods. “We have, and we will descend the undercroft.”
Altanis gestures toward the stone stairs descending beneath the chapel. “The other cleric and his group... They did not wait.” His voice echoes faintly in the hollow church. “The other group descended into the undercroft during the night.” He folds his hands solemnly. “I fear they believed that time was short.”
Felix glances toward the stairs. “Then we’re behind already.”
Altanis nods gravely. “Yes.” He retrieves a lantern and offers a short prayer beneath the great altar before stepping aside. “May the First Light guide your steps.”
THE UNDERCROFT
The stone stairway descends beneath the chapel floor, narrow and damp, with the air colder with every step. Kal leads cautiously, lantern raised. Milo second, gripping his sling while Cnut growls softly. Felix follows them, silent and focused. The rat duo whisper nervously behind him.
At the bottom of the stairs, the corridor opens into a broad chamber. Old stone statues line the walls, worn smooth by centuries. The dust here is disturbed by boot prints and torch soot leading to a closed stone door. The other group passed through hours ago.
The adventurers stand within the Entrance Hall of the undercroft, the first chamber beneath the Church. Only silence waits beyond the door.
The clearing is slowly falling into the night. The corpses of the giant slugs lie split across the muddy ground, their acidic fluids quietly eating into the soil. The wizard’s body remains where it fell, twisted among the puddles left by the magical torrent that nearly drowned Stein.
Gunthard wastes no time, he thumps Stein once on the shoulder before pushing himself upright. “I’d say we should hold here for the night. Marching with the wounded through these woods in the dark is a fine way to die.” he grumbles. Gunthard begins gathering stones, building a rough ring for the fire. “A watch every two hours.”
Hrod approves. “Aye. Best we bide here until dawn.” The warrior wipes slug ichor from his axe before stepping into the edge of the trees, watching the dark beyond the firelight. “But with Zollo walking his own road… are we of need to make way to the Lodge?" he grunts.
Tillomar slings his bow across his shoulders as he agrees naturally. “These woods aren’t safe to travel in the dark. It's not practical as we are, it's safer to wait until dawn...” he says. He whistles once and Fergal trots over and settles beside the wounded man. Tillomar turns his gaze to Gunthard, looking briefly at Stein before speaking again…“We should sweep the ground, and find some wood to build a basic shelter. Our friend here might do better if we can at least keep him warm, for now.” With that, the ranger lifts his axe and goes briefly among the trees to fetch wood. "Get a fire going, I'll be back shortly."
Ostgar follows the others’ lead, gathering sticks for the fire while Alfwine contributes what little effort he can. Soon the clearing fills with the quiet sounds of survival work: snapping branches, scraping stones, the dull drag of wood through damp leaves.
STEIN’S WORK
Stein tries to sit up. The attempt nearly knocks the breath from him. Gunthard’s bandages hold, but his ribs protest fiercely. Still, he forces himself upright. “Everyone still in one piece?” he asks quietly. The others answer with nods or muttered reassurances. He lets out a sigh of relief as he takes in the situation.
Then Stein reaches into his soaked coat and pulls free one of the last bottles he carries from the ruined Steiner brewery. The bottle catches the firelight. Its once-proud design is stained with dried red as the mark of bloody fight during the rat infestation in the cellar back in Vertidor. He uncorks the bottle and takes the smallest sip, then pours the rest slowly into the churned mud where the wizard’s magic flooded the ground. The alcohol vanishes instantly into the thirsty earth.
Stein stares at the empty bottle, now another relic gone. Then he limps toward the deepest puddle left by the magical torrent, it’s muddy waters lying still beneath the rising moon. Stein kneels, gloved hand steady despite the tremor in his arm, he plunges the bottle beneath the surface carefully.
For a moment nothing happens, then the water shifts inwards with some violence and the bottle fills. When Stein lifts it back into the air, the liquid inside swirls slowly, as though something within it remembers movement. The whisper returns to him “Alchemy bends nature…” Stein corks the bottle carefully. “We’ll see who bends,” he mutters. “And who breaks.” He fills a second bottle.
THE WATCH
Night deepens and Gunthard’s fire finally catches, flames licking up through the stone ring. Tillomar returns with branches and quickly builds a crude shelter against the wind. Fergal refuses to leave Stein’s side. Hrod takes the first watch.
The forest beyond the firelight is dark and utterly silent. Once, he thinks he hears water moving somewhere beneath the earth, but the sound quickly disappears. The slug corpses are a sight to behold in the fire light. The wizard’s corpse lies still. Behind him the camp sleeps uneasily all night, as the watch shifts without notable events.
The sun begins to rise over the broken clearing. The forest is watching. Time to wake up and move.
VERTIDOR’S REST: THE CHURCH'S UNDERCROFT
Morning comes grey and cold as Kal Arion leads the group directly through the silent streets of Vertidor’s Rest toward the Church. Milo follows with Cnut close at heel. Felix walks beside him while the “rat duo” (Jarlo and Rikko) trail behind with mismatched shields and weapons. Little Clem lurks nearby despite earlier instructions.
The town feels emptier than ever, with doors are barred and windows shuttered. At the Church, the doors stand open. Inside, candles burn low along the altar. Father Altanis kneels in prayer. He rises slowly when the adventurers enter. “You have come after all.”
Kal nods. “We have, and we will descend the undercroft.”
Altanis gestures toward the stone stairs descending beneath the chapel. “The other cleric and his group... They did not wait.” His voice echoes faintly in the hollow church. “The other group descended into the undercroft during the night.” He folds his hands solemnly. “I fear they believed that time was short.”
Felix glances toward the stairs. “Then we’re behind already.”
Altanis nods gravely. “Yes.” He retrieves a lantern and offers a short prayer beneath the great altar before stepping aside. “May the First Light guide your steps.”
THE UNDERCROFT
The stone stairway descends beneath the chapel floor, narrow and damp, with the air colder with every step. Kal leads cautiously, lantern raised. Milo second, gripping his sling while Cnut growls softly. Felix follows them, silent and focused. The rat duo whisper nervously behind him.
At the bottom of the stairs, the corridor opens into a broad chamber. Old stone statues line the walls, worn smooth by centuries. The dust here is disturbed by boot prints and torch soot leading to a closed stone door. The other group passed through hours ago.
The adventurers stand within the Entrance Hall of the undercroft, the first chamber beneath the Church. Only silence waits beyond the door.
Last edited by Irenaeus on March 24th, 2026, 13:05, edited 1 time in total.
Iren's Play-by-post: General Discussion
Upcoming: Karatasian Kings - A CK2 Random World LP
Winner of RPGHQ4 - The Search For Vengeance
Upcoming: Karatasian Kings - A CK2 Random World LP
Winner of RPGHQ4 - The Search For Vengeance
-
SpellSword
- Posts: 1324
- Joined: Jun 15, '23
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Geolocation
Adventurer's Guild
Stein Von Steiner stirs with dawn's light and then awakens with a start as something moves disturbingly nearby, only to relax as recognition of @Tillomar 's hound Fergal sinks in. He takes a moment to drink in the sight of the still mounds of slug flesh, before rising to his feet.
Scanning the camp his gaze falls upon the slain magician's body and doubt creeps over him. Although feeling half a dream, the vision still remains stuck in his memory. A deep green-blue light and... a glowing ring, he'd seen it on the wizard's hand in that otherworldly place.
His near brush with death weighs heavily on his mind as he attempts to gain a better vantage point of the man's ring hand. Even though last night's assailant clearly lies dead, he hesitates to simply approach the man, his own body's aches and pains warding him away from the corpse as they remind him of the freezing torrent of water that had almost claimed his life.
Straining to glimpse his quarry Stein gives voice to his thoughts "The wizard's ring. I must know if it truly exists..." Its mere presence would banish his uncertainty.
Scanning the camp his gaze falls upon the slain magician's body and doubt creeps over him. Although feeling half a dream, the vision still remains stuck in his memory. A deep green-blue light and... a glowing ring, he'd seen it on the wizard's hand in that otherworldly place.
His near brush with death weighs heavily on his mind as he attempts to gain a better vantage point of the man's ring hand. Even though last night's assailant clearly lies dead, he hesitates to simply approach the man, his own body's aches and pains warding him away from the corpse as they remind him of the freezing torrent of water that had almost claimed his life.
Straining to glimpse his quarry Stein gives voice to his thoughts "The wizard's ring. I must know if it truly exists..." Its mere presence would banish his uncertainty.
The three evils that humanity faces:
Censorship
Telemetry
DRM
-
DemoGraph
- Posts: 2031
- Joined: Mar 24, '24
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Geolocation
Adventurer's Guild
Felix checks the floor for the footprints. Are there any that are not from the first party? Are there any additional entrances to the chamber?
Also, check the ceiling. He always checks the ceiling.
Mkay, squad can't see **** commander.
Also, check the ceiling. He always checks the ceiling.
Mkay, squad can't see **** commander.
Last edited by DemoGraph on March 24th, 2026, 15:56, edited 1 time in total.
Iren's PbP - Felix
Rolled d20: 1d20
Result: 3
d20:
1d20
= 3
wis+0:
0
=
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ERYFKRAD
- Posts: 178
- Joined: Feb 8, '23
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Geolocation
Hrod awakens to the sound of @Stein von Steiner's movement.
"Be you well enough to tread onward?" He enquires.
For his part, he wonders what next to do. Whatever doom was placed upon Zollo to deliver the weird foetus, such is no longer Hrod's concern. "Lest we have aught of import to quest upon in these forests, methinks we should hie back unto Vertidor's Rest."
"Be you well enough to tread onward?" He enquires.
For his part, he wonders what next to do. Whatever doom was placed upon Zollo to deliver the weird foetus, such is no longer Hrod's concern. "Lest we have aught of import to quest upon in these forests, methinks we should hie back unto Vertidor's Rest."
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Kalarion
- Turtle
- Posts: 2161
- Joined: Feb 2, '23
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Geolocation
Adventurer's Guild
Kal hefts his axe, girds his robe, and ties his sack around his chest as a temporary sash. Taking a moment to meditate, he slowly extends his senses beyond the door, testing for the presence of anything intent on harming the party.
Casting Detect Evil.
Casting Detect Evil.
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Val the Moofia Boss
- Turtle
- Posts: 4198
- Joined: Jun 3, '23
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Geolocation
Adventurer's Guild
Gunthard awoke, and then took a better examination of their location in the dawn's light.
Gunthard stops at Hrod's statement. "We are half a day out from Vertidor to the lodge. I'd say we try to complete the trip and get the information we came for." . Gunthard to Stein "assuming we are all of able body. If not, then it would be prudent to return".
Gunthard stops at Hrod's statement. "We are half a day out from Vertidor to the lodge. I'd say we try to complete the trip and get the information we came for." . Gunthard to Stein "assuming we are all of able body. If not, then it would be prudent to return".