[Game Thread] South, across the Middle Sea

[DaysUntold]

Nae'laa was perhaps more surprised at the speed with which the hands disappeared than she was with their initial appearance. She stood at alert, with her hands extended, for several seconds longer than necessary until she felt altogether silly in the pose. She collected herself and smoothed down her charcoal skirts with her hands in a sort of calming gesture before falling back in line, the whole time wondering if her reaction had been one of excess or if such a response had been necessary in order to thwart the grasping walls. Perhaps more alarming was that she cared at all about what those around her thought on the matter, what they thought of her magic... what they thought of her. It was an odd feeling, but not altogether unpleasant. Underneath it there was a sense of belonging that had started to flourish. It was Bato who drew her attention away from the drawings on the walls and she found herself smiling in his wake. There was something endearing about the way in which he spoke of the paintings, making him feel, for a moment, far more vulnerable and innocent than she had known him to be thus far. She studied the walls as they traveled on, trying to remember it and 23 roll for Investigationsuss out any particular pattern to the adornments. Nae'laa carefully watched the others as the unknown woman spoke. Her skin began to glow as apprehension grew. She searched her mind for mentions of that which the woman spoke of, yet she could find nothing. Which of them carried the scent of the wyrms? Was it she? She had spoken at some length to the wind dragon who seemed to recognize her kind, but that was days, no weeks ago. The thought of the magical trinket entered her mind. It was a link back, could this woman sense the connection? She wouldn't trust the object to someone outside of the group so what decision would she make if it needed to be left behind? Her mind raced, but in the end she was relieved that Zenda decided to step forward. Nae'laa waited in silence for the question to be answered.

StatBlock   Nae'laa Actions Move: Action: Bonus Action: Reaction: - Interaction: - Ignite: set creature on fire and do half damage next turn. Contingencies: - Notes/Rolls:   Dice Investigation on walls: 1d20+7 (16)+7 Total = 23

[Strangemund]

When all else fails, lie... Batoyangi was right to be sour with him. For soddin’ sake, Kazimir was sour with himself! He really thought he’d done well, dinnae he. Thought a few turns, left and right, anywhere far from the beast that hounded them was better than nuttin’. Better than standing around, twiddling their thumbs, wondering which way to go? Foolishness it was. Foolishness was him. A coward who dinnae want more trouble. Sigh. …you know, he didn’t even bother to check for signs of danger. Not really. He just sorta guessed. And look what that got them. Trouble by the dozens. And Azar, that poor lass, thrust into the heart of it all. No, Kazimir couldn’t blame big ole menacing for the cold shoulder. He couldn’t blame him at all. Kazimir stuck behind the group after that. Better that way, he figured, as his luck was black and foul as the water they stomped through. It was real cold, too. Numbing to the bone. His bare foot didn’t look that great after what felt like an eternity trekking through the pool, but Kazimir didn’t bother to complain. Let’s be real. It was karma. Deserved. And he couldn’t dig himself out of that thought, even after the tension lessened. Not while Azar continued to ignore him, continued to dodge every chance he had to pull her aside and ask if she was alright. It made him wonder, you know. That the real mistake was… bringing him. ’Maybe I am cursed,’ he drolly thought, 'Let’s face it. Lots o’ folks swore I were the worst thing ta ever happen to ‘em. Like ole boy Kravak back in the Iron Hills. He was a made a man. Well to do. Well, before he met me, anyways, although I dinnae exactly ask him ta gamble his lifesavin’s away. That man dinnae have a lick o’ sense to him. Hah! Or cents after I was done wit him.’ Kazimir chuckled to himself, delicately stepping over a pile of bones that sifted at the bottom of the pool. ’Oh, an’ who could forget sweet naive Pokorny. Still feel bad ‘at one. Left him wit me tab at the Stickler Pickler, an’ stickled me pickle in his husband. Ahh, Marek were a dream, weren’t he. I can see why Pokorny married him. Just wish Pokorny dinnae punch me nose so hard, though, when he found us together. S’till hard as sin to breathe through my left nostril on cold days…’ Kazimir glanced at the critters painted at the wall, and stopped briefly to stare at a weird looking horse. It looked sick, what with that foul growth coming out its back. ’It kinda reminds me o’ Dahlia. She had a hump, too. Lovely woman. Great cook. I wonder how’s she doin’. S’been while since I got her last hate letter. Hope things worked out between her an’ the town. An’ a good reminder ta save the bog witch story fer folks not inflicted wit a plague…’ And what about me, Kazimir. Kazimir froze. His blood ran cold. As he heard it. That damnable voice. The one he buried and drowned and smoked away so he wouldn't have to hear it any more. 'cuz he didn't want to remember it. He didn't want to. And yet it still found him down here, and it whispered in his ear, prickling his skin with a cold dread: You’ll come back for me, won’t you? No no no. No, please. Don’t. Not now. Don’t let him relive it. Not when the others are here. Not when he was…he was in the dark, in the cold, gnawing dark. I knew I could trust you. I knew I could– Nae’laa’s quiet laughter broke Kazimir free from the terrible memory, and he sucked in the cool, stale air like he’d been drowning. A few of the sailors gave him a queer look, but he bought them off with a cheesy smile, like he always did, and wiped his sweaty brow clean. 'It was nuttin'.' He told himself. 'It wasn't real. It wasn't. It was..' Kazimir clenched the coin around his neck, soothing himself, quietly, as he reminded himself where he was. "No more memories," he murmured softly, "no more for now." No more. The relief that washed over Kazimir at the sight of an open chamber was endless. He coulda kissed Batoyangi for it! But well, he thought better of it when Batoyangi snorted in his direction. Later, though. Later. But it was quite queer to find that walked not into a palace room but another city. One made with smooth white sandstone that soothed his battered barefoot, and columns of masterwork craft rose all around them. Kazimir’s brow furrowed. Confused, as he didn’t think this was right, but what did he know about Chamiras. He was no bull. And no native. All he knew was the tale of the city’s end. "Is this it? Chamiras?" asked the good captain. The bulls shook their heads, and that in itself made Kazimir tense up. More tricks, was it. Of the maze. Of the wyrm. Of the mind. His worries seeped out across his features like an open wound, bleeding for all to see. At least until the old, blind bull appeared. Then, ooh, then Kazimir found himself squirming with confidence, as people he could handle. "Why have you come? The Heart does not wish it." The Heart? What was that? Some kind of title? Or something more? He glanced at Milkherem for a hint. "The heart can bear much that it doesn't wish," Kazimir winced at Azar’s hiss of displeasure, and slowly, surely, inched himself closer to her, hoping to stop that fire before it truly started, "How did you know we were coming? You were obviously waiting for us." "You ask how I knew you were coming. The answer is all around you." The blind bull paused, then said with a reverence Kazimir seen time and time again in the eyes of true believers, "Mazuli Sul." Every minotaur rose their voice in hushed excitement at that word, which was good news as far as Kazimir could tell. Vrakiras threw around the title of First Maze, which sounded familiar. Very familiar. But he just couldn’t put his finger on it. He blamed the ale he shared with Milkherem. Soddin’ stuff was too strong, and wiped clean his history lessons. But none of that mattered as much as what the old seer smelled in the air. The scent of the wyrms. The scent of dragons. And Kazimir didn’t have to guess who exactly she was talking about, not while her scales were out and about for the whole world to see. Red stepped forward, after cutting a glance at Azar that made even Kazimir shift with concern. He knew the two weren’t in good terms, but she wouldn’t…she wouldn’t leave her behind, would she? "What about only some of us?" Kazimir’s jaw tightened. His fear true. And while he adored Red, he really did, his heart soared at her fiery might, ooh, he rather liked Azar, too. "Loki, lord o’ tricks, weavers o’ lies, be my guide," whispered Kazimir under his breath, low enough that only Azar could hear it. Then Kazimir joined Red center stage, hands in front of him, swearing his innocence and vulnerability to the seer that could see all and more, and just praying, praying, that bullcrap was not on her list. "May the Poet an’ the Broken forgive me fer correctin’ a faithful servant o’ the Heart, but I swear to yous, on my own beatin’ heart, what you smell is a child o’ Jörmungandr. A sea serpent, from the North, where fire dies to the cold. Similar, but not the same. Far from it."

 

Actions Move: Ready Action: Bonus Action: Reaction: Interaction: I rolled Deception to lie to the blind seer with the hope that she doesn't know enough about sea serpents to know the difference between them and a wyrm. The result is a wonderful 25, which could be utterly useless, but still nice to have! Notes:

[Vislands]

More magical mumbo-jumbo, the old minotaur female was rambling on about things the gnoll did not understand or frankly care to, but he did gather that they had come upon the right place or at least were on the right path to get to where they wanted to go. That was good. What was less good, besides all the talking that his companions were doing with the freakish crone instead of punching, was the smell. He couldn't quite place it, but the moment the scent hit the back of his throat his hackles raised slightly and his small beady eyes began to shift around the room. It was the smell of a predator, like wyvern droppings or big-cat piss or worse. But he didn't recognize the smell, just that it was a marking. "Something here," he growled, just low enough to warn those around him. "Was here, maybe come back. Predator."

OOC   Actions Move: Action: Bonus Action: Reaction: Interaction: Contingencies: Notes/Rolls: Batoyangi Level 6 Civilized Gnoll Beast Barbarian [5] / Rogue [1] HP: 56/63 | AC: 18 | Speed: 40 ft. | PP: 16/Scent21 | Senses: Darkvision (60 Ft.) | HD: 5/5 d12+3 & 1/1 d8+3 Status: Feats: You use shields not just for protection but also for offense. You gain the following benefits while you are wielding a shield: If you take the Attack action on your turn, you can use a bonus action to try to shove a creature within 5 feet of you with your shield. If you aren't incapacitated, you can add your shield's AC bonus to any Dexterity saving throw you make against a spell or other harmful effect that targets only you. If you are subjected to an effect that allows you to make a Dexterity saving throw to take only half damage, you can use your reaction to take no damage if you succeed on the saving throw, interposing your shield between yourself and the source of the effect. Shield Master, You have achieved a penetrating precision in combat, granting you the following benefits: Increase your Strength by 1, to a maximum of 20. Once per turn, when you hit a creature with an attack that deals piercing damage, you can reroll one of the attack’s damage dice, and you must use the new roll. When you score a critical hit that deals piercing damage to a creature, you can roll one additional damage die when determining the extra piercing damage the target takes. Piercer, You have advantage on Wisdom (Perception) checks that rely on smell.Scent, Although gnolls are cowardly at heart, they like to disguise their fears by abusing others. You have disadvantage on saving throws against being frightened. On the other hand, whenever you make a Charisma (Intimidation) check for dealing with obviously smaller or weaker targets, you are considered proficient in the Intimidation skill and add double your proficiency bonus to the check, instead of your normal proficiency bonus.Bully, When you take the Disengage action, your base walking speed is increased by 10 feet.Live to Fight Another Day, Whenever you make a Charisma (Persuasion) check for dealing with obviously bigger or more powerful targets, you are considered proficient in the Persuasion skill and add double your proficiency bonus to the check, instead of your normal proficiency bonus.Obsequious Skills: Acrobatics (+5), Animal Handling (+3), Athletics (+10), Perception (+6), Sleight of Hand (+5), Stealth (+5) Tools: Thieves Tools (+5) Languages: Broken Common, Draconic, Gnollish, Thieves' Cant Combat Equipment: Javelin (+7 <> 1d6+4), Adarga Magic Items: -attuned- While you wear these boots, your walking speed becomes 30 feet, unless your walking speed is higher, and your speed isn't reduced if you are encumbered or wearing Heavy Armor. In addition, you can jump three times the normal distance, though you can't jump farther than your remaining Movement would allow. Current Jump Distances (with/without) 10 ft. running start: Long Jump - 54/27 ft. High Jump - 21/10.5 ft. ...you cannot jump over any obstacles that are taller than 13.5 feet.Footwraps of Striding and Springing Abilities Str Dex Con Int Wis Cha Score: 18 14 16 8 10 8 Modifier: +4 +2 +3 -1 0 -1 Saves: +7 +2 +6 -1 0 -1 Abilities: In battle, you fight with primal ferocity. On your turn, you can enter a rage as a bonus action. While raging, you gain the following benefits if you aren’t wearing heavy armor: You have advantage on Strength checks and Strength saving throws. When you make a melee weapon attack using Strength, you gain a bonus to the damage roll that increases as you gain levels as a barbarian, as shown in the Rage Damage column of the Barbarian table. You have resistance to bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing damage. If you are able to cast spells, you can’t cast them or concentrate on them while raging. Your rage lasts for 1 minute. It ends early if you are knocked unconscious or if your turn ends and you haven’t attacked a hostile creature since your last turn or taken damage since then. You can also end your rage on your turn as a bonus action. Once you have raged the number of times shown for your barbarian level in the Rages column of the Barbarian table, you must finish a long rest before you can rage again.Rage [X] [ ] [ ] | While you are not wearing any armor, your Armor Class equals 10 + your Dexterity modifier + your Constitution modifier. You can use a shield and still gain this benefit.Unarmored Defense | Starting at 2nd level, you can throw aside all concern for defense to attack with fierce desperation. When you make your first attack on your turn, you can decide to attack recklessly. Doing so gives you advantage on melee weapon attack rolls using Strength during this turn, but attack rolls against you have advantage until your next turn.Reckless Attack | When you reach 3rd level (Perception) and again at 10th level, you gain proficiency in one skill of your choice from the list of skills available to barbarians at 1st level.Primal Knowledge | When you enter your rage, you can transform, revealing the bestial power within you. Until the rage ends, you manifest a natural weapon. It counts as a simple melee weapon for you, and you add your Strength modifier to the attack and damage rolls when you attack with it, as normal. You choose the weapon’s form each time you rage: Bite. Your mouth transforms into a bestial muzzle or great mandibles (your choice). It deals 1d8 piercing damage on a hit. Once on each of your turns when you damage a creature with this bite, you regain a number of hit points equal to your proficiency bonus, provided you have less than half your hit points when you hit. Claws. Each of your hands transforms into a claw, which you can use as a weapon if it’s empty. It deals 1d6 slashing damage on a hit. Once on each of your turns when you attack with a claw using the Attack action, you can make one additional claw attack as part of the same action. Tail. You grow a lashing, spiny tail, which deals 1d8 piercing damage on a hit and has the reach property. If a creature you can see within 10 feet of you hits you with an attack roll, you can use your reaction to swipe your tail and roll a d8, applying a bonus to your AC equal to the number rolled, potentially causing the attack to miss you.Form of the Beast | Beginning at 1st level, you know how to strike subtly and exploit a foe’s distraction. Once per turn, you can deal an extra 1d6 damage to one creature you hit with an attack if you have advantage on the attack roll. The attack must use a finesse or a ranged weapon. You don’t need advantage on the attack roll if another enemy of the target is within 5 feet of it, that enemy isn’t incapacitated, and you don’t have disadvantage on the attack roll. The amount of the extra damage increases as you gain levels in this class, as shown in the Sneak Attack column of the Rogue table.Sneak Attack | At 1st level, choose two of your skill proficiencies, or one of your skill proficiencies and your proficiency with thieves’ tools (Athletics, Perception). Your proficiency bonus is doubled for any ability check you make that uses either of the chosen proficiencies. At 6th level, you can choose two more of your proficiencies (in skills or with thieves’ tools) to gain this benefit.Expertise

[4eyedBadger]

The Heart, Mazuli Sul Sincerity drips from Kazimir’s tongue, thicker than the saliva from Bato’s fangs when he lusts for blood. But his words clearly give pause to Arous-ok-Hebb. The old priestess of the labyrinth cocks her head quizzically with an alacrity that belies her years. But wisdom bought at the price of decades is not so lightly set aside. "Veles slumbers beneath the waves, my silver-tongued friend. His fire has gone out. Nay, it is brimstone and young scale you bring with you." A distant roar punctuates the blind minotaur’s words. It echoes through the dead and empty buildings of Kaptaria’s shadow city. Milkharam’s bull-eyes go wide. Vrakiras exhibits a greater control, but Batoyangi can smell the musky fear rising from him. The bosun turns his large head toward Azar. He gives her a meaningful nod, then shouts toward Arous and beyond her, addressing both the priestess and whatever hellish braying creature approached. "Her flesh bears the mark of the wyrms, just as so many of our people bear the scars of their claws and fire!" Growing anger replaces the fear that had tinged Vrakiras’ voice. "But her heart is of the cloven hoof! We journey to Chamiras to rescue one of the great bulls from the torment of the dragons! Let us pass!" Tense seconds pass. Arous closes her sightless eyes, mouthing a silent prayer. She kneels down and places a palm on the ancient flagstone, visibly connecting with her city and the diseased labyrinth around them. Slowly she straightens. "Poet is moved by your words and your hearts." Sighing, she shakes her head. "But Broken is the stronger this day. May your souls not become lost..." Then, softly, "...as so many have." She turns and walks back the way she came, disappearing into the shadows between buildings. The roar comes again, much closer this time. Though it is but one roar, it comes from everywhere at once, as if the labyrinth itself issues its challenge. The mists grow thicker as their enemy approaches. Darkness settles over the empty streets, and the white stone buildings fade to a dull grey, even as they shift and move. The streets around them grow longer. Alleys sprout where none were before. Turning back toward the direction from which they came, Nae’laa sees nothing she recognizes. Endless streets run in every direction, as the labyrinthine city draws them toward its sickened heart. Mazuli Sul is alive, and it is swallowing them whole!

OOC   Kaz’ delivery was perfect, Strange. But he chose the wrong lie. And Arous seems not to have the power to stop this anyway.

[Lazer]

Azar had been leaning against a wall as her fate was discussed, still confused about the way that she had found herself repeating the same phrase a few moments before. Was her mind failing now too, on top of her body? When Zenda offered to leave her behind she was not surprised, nor when none of the others objected. Why would they? If the best thing for them was to sacrifice her, that is what they would do. It was what anyone should do. But then Kazimir, the errant scoundrel, the roving fool with the grandiose ego, spoke up for her. She looked up at him, confusion writ across her face. "What are you doing?" she hissed, but the minotaur matron had already pronounced her decision, and now the entire city seemed to be pulsating with life! This was madness, and it had to end. "No," she said, and a coughing fit overcame her as she tried to shout the word. She managed to clear her lungs and spat out a gob of blood-flecked sputum. "NO! You go, I stay. Gramvar must be avenged, and if I jeopardise that, it is best that I am left behind." As she spoke she looked first to Zenda, and then to Bato, Nae'laa, and the crew. She expected no argument here and she hoped that if he saw the others going that Kaz would just follow like the lost puppy that he undoubtedly was. She simply didn't have the energy to try to talk sense into him.

 

Actions Move: Action: Ready Action: Bonus Action: Reaction: Interaction: Contingencies: Concentration: Disguise Status: None Notes: Infected with Lung Rot - cannot regain HP (and other issues yet to be found)

 

Azar al-Muhaqiq
Human (Variant) Sorcerer 6
Ability Mods Str -1 Int +1 Dex +2 Wis +1 Con +2 Cha +4 Sheet	Defenses HP 41/44 AC 15 P.Perc 11 Init +2 Speed 30 Prof +3 Senses Darkvision to 60 feet while wearing Goggles of NightNormal	Key Skills Deception +7 Insight +4 Intimidation +7 Investigation +4 Stealth +5 - - Sorcery Points 6/6	Spell Slots 1st-level 4/4 2nd-level 3/3 3rd-level 3/3 4th-level 0/0	Abilities Liaison to network of spies. Can get messages to and from the Mharoti Empire.Contact Spells you cast ignore fire resistance. In addition, when you roll damage for a spell you cast that deals damage of that type, you can treat any 1 on a damage die as a 2.Elemental Adept (Fire) You are well-versed in surviving in hostile environments, even thriving where others are sure to perish. You gain the following benefits. • Increase your Constitution or Wisdom score by 1, to a maximum of 20. • You require only half the food and water normally required for a creature of your size. • You can withstand extreme temperatures indefinitely and automatically succeed on saving throws against extreme heat and cold for a number of days equal to your Constitution or Wisdom modifier, whichever is lower. After this time, you must make saving throws as normal, until you spend 24 hours in a comfortable temperature.Survivor You have a number of Sorcery Points equal to your Sorcerer Level which recharge when you finish a long rest. You can use a bonus action to regain spell slots equal to the number of Sorcery Points spent. You can also use a bonus action to spend spell slots to regain Sorcery Points as follows (Slot/Points); 1/2, 2/3. 3/5. 4/6, 5/7.Font of Magic When you cast a spell, you can spend 1 sorcery point to cast it without any somatic or verbal components.Subtle Spell When you cast a spell that targets only one creature and doesn’t have a range of self, you can spend a number of sorcery points equal to the spell’s level to target a second creature in range with the same spell (1 sorcery point if the spell is a cantrip).Twinned Spell As magic flows through your body, it causes physical traits of your dragon ancestors to emerge. At 1st level, your hit point maximum increases by 1 and increases by 1 again whenever you gain a level in this class. Additionally, parts of your skin are covered by a thin sheen of dragon-like scales. When you aren’t wearing armor, your AC equals 13 + your Dexterity modifier.Draconic Resilience Starting at 6th level, when you Cast a Spell that deals Fire damage, you can add your Charisma modifier to one damage roll of that spell. At the same time, you can spend 1 sorcery point to gain Resistance to that damage type for 1 hour.Elemental Affinity	Equipment Fire Crystal (Arcane Focus) Common Clothes Dagger x2 Thieves' Tools Goggles of Night Medallion of Thoughts (3/3 charges) Hat of Disguise Backpack -Bedroll -Mess kit -Tinderbox -Torch (10) -Rations (10 days) -Waterskin -Crowbar -Hempen Rope -Forgery Kit -The Many Robust Pages of Baroness Bressallia Belt pouch with 20 platinum and 13.5 gold Equipment Languages Common Draconic Ignan Languages Tool Proficiencies Thieves' Tools Forgery Tools Cooking Utensils Tools

Spells Known
Cantrips	1st	2nd	3rd	4th	5th	6th	7th	8th	9th
Cont Flames	Disq Gaze	Scorcher	Fireball	-	-	-	-	-	-
Fire Bolt	Chrom Orb	Enl/Red	Haste	-	-	-	-	-	-
Message	Shield	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-
Presti	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-
P of Smoke	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-

[Strangemund]

I am not a begging man but... Well, shite. That lie went belly up rather quick, dinnae it? Before Kazimir could spin a second lie onto the first, judgment was already passed on Azar. The Broken demanded blood. Retribution. And it’d would have it from them. Mist thicker than blood in water flooded the streets. And it twisted the city. Changed it in ways where they could not recognize which path was safe and which was familiar. The Broken would not have them flee with such ease. It was his maze, and he’d make a game of their lives. Which was all well and good, but Kazimir planned to live another hundred years before he finally went crawling to Hel’s doorsteps on his hands and knees. He squinted, hard. Trying to figure out the best path out, but knew in his heart of hearts that was best left to Batoyangi than he. Not after his last guess led them straight into trouble with a capital T. He patted the big lad’s shoulder, though, quick to say, "Tell yer sniffer to let us know when it gets too close, aye? There’s a good lad." The Broken certainly couldn’t get the drop on them with that beast of a beast on their side! And iffin’ it did come to a fight, well, Kazimir provides, dinnae he, granting his able-bodied companions with a couple more tricks from his proverbial sleeve. "No," spoke Azar suddenly, her voice so much smaller, so much frailer than before. Kazimir turned to face her, half-expected to be slugged for his misstep, but…. it was worse than that, what he saw. Her, half-bent over, spitting fresh blood and rot on the ground. Anger and fear dancing to the beat of her pain, as words that carved deep into his chest spilled from her still bloodied mouth. "NO! You go, I stay. Gramvar must be avenged, and if I jeopardise that, it is best that I am left behind." Kazimir immediately looked to the others. Half hoping somebody was gonna have the sense to drag her out of that pity party she was throwing. Certainly they’d not let her die here, alone. Where not even gods would know where to fetch her soul. But then he remembered Red’s words to the seer, and he knew, for some, survival was a sweeter apple than the warmth of friendship. It was for him, at times. And he still regretted the price he paid, for his life over another’s. "The Unyielding Hoof!" Kazimir swiveled around to face his large, bovine bosom friend. Blue-stained hands thrown in front of him like it were the only thing keeping him balanced. Which it was, as he spun a little too fast on that one. But with his world done spinning, he grasped his hands together, and bowed his head, all pitiful-like, and begged like the dog he was. "My friend, yous know I do not wish to put you into harm’s way any more than any other. We have broken wine. Bread. Stories. An’ ya done won a great deal o’ my gold. I ask you, friend to friend, to help me." He pointed back at Azar. "I don’t want her to die. She does not deserve this. She did not ask to be born what she was no more than I asked… " He paused. The truth he thought he’d never tell again waiting to be spoken, to find purchase in scars he thought long healed. He closed his eyes. His hand clenching into a fist before he pushed it to his heart, taking another step to Milkherem. "...to be born a half-elf. Please. Be The Unyielding Hoof I know yous to be. And do not move ‘cuz The Broken cannot hear what The Poet knows. She is innocent. Please, carry her, for me."

 

Actions Move: Ready Action: Bonus Action: Reaction: Interaction: I rolled Persuasion to (hopefully) convince Milkherem to carry Azar. I got a dirty 20 on the roll. Fingers crossed! Notes:

[4eyedBadger]

Milkherem Kaz has spent a significant amount of time around the bulls during their voyage. Even so, Milkherem’s face is inscrutible to the…half-elf? Finally, his lips curl back to reveal square teeth in what Kazimir has learned is a smile for the bull-folk. "Well, half-elf," says the bull, slowly. "Damn me to a dead-end if your tongue doesn’t drip silver anyway." Milkherem does not carry a pack. He unslings his oversized satchel and passes it to Vrakiras. The bosun takes it silently, still looking warily at the encroaching buildings and fog that seem to be closing in on them. "Truth be told," Milkherem says in a conspiratorial tone to his blue friend, "My grandsire’s grandsire was a dwarf." Then, with a wink, "But we can still share a bottle, eh." He steps toward Azar. "I’d not leave the scaled cow behind." His tone gives no insult. On the contrary, it seems like he is pleased to be able to bestow the title on her. "We’ll be needing her fire." Milkherem does not pick Azar up directly, but wraps his thickly muscled arm around her thin torso from the side as she coughs up more blood. Azar feels herself pulled upward and toward the bull, but not so far that she cannot use her own feet. He simply takes most of her weight, almost effortlessly, while allowing her the dignity of walking. A single, terrible roar rises from all around the group. It echoes from behind buildings and even seems to press down on them from above, much louder and closer than before. Through the gathering, silvery fog, large, shuffling silhouettes can just now be seen. They move slowly, many of them entering the alleys and empty spaces. The outlines of horns top each one, and the sound of dragging metal accompanies many, coming from all directions. "My hoof may not yield," says Milkherem, all trace of mirth gone. "But the rest of me knows when it’s time to move! We cannot stay here."

OOC   Who can resist an impassioned plea and a dirty 20? Milkherem is in, and shifts his focus to helping Azar, whatever that will look like. He can throw her over his shoulder like a sack if she wants. But he's trying to be sensitive to her pride. As for the shapes in the mist, they can be seen in all directions. They don’t fill the spaces, but there are many of them converging on the plaza where the group stands. The closest of them are not yet within a hundred feet.

[hafrogman]

Zenda, Swordswoman of Ishadia If Zenda felt any regret at so quickly volunteering to leave Azar behind, none of it showed on her face as the events of the next few moments played out before her. Kaz tried spinning more lies, but it seemed like this blind seer wasn't the one calling the shots. Whatever supernatural forces lurked in this place would not be swayed by honeyed words. The Ishadian's countenance remained expressionless as Azar volunteered to be left behind... from the sounds of it, the Mharoti witch was half dead already. But that blue-stained fool simply couldn't leave well enough alone, wasting precious moments persuading Milkherem to carry her. Kaz's half-breed revelation barely registered with Zenda at all. She had noted his dissimilarities from Lucia, but largely had minimal experience with their kind, half, whole, or otherwise. Still, it seemed to have swayed the minotaur in some way. Zenda let out a quiet snort at the term 'scaled cow', tucking it away in the recesses of her mind for the future. Perhaps someday she would pull the memory out to keep her warm on cold desert nights, but there was little time to savor it now. With the bosun carrying the sorceress, they would now be down two combatants instead of one, and the spirits of this place were closing in. If Zenda felt any frustration at the decision to carry Azar along with them after all, none of it showed on her face as she prepared for the coming onslaught. The choice had been made, and now all that remained was action. "Very well. This way." Lacking any sense of a 'right' or 'wrong' way in this labyrinth, one direction felt as good as any, and the Ishadian swordswoman simply picked the first that appealed to her.

OOC   Mechanics If we're going, let's go.   Stat Block Zenda | Aasimar (Scourge) | Fighter (Sword Dancer) | Level 6 HP: 52/52 | AC: studded leather19 | PP: Darkvision 60'13 | Initiative: +3 | Speed: 30ft Stats: Str 10 (+0), Dex 17 (+3), Con 14 (+2), Int 12 (+1), Wis 10 (+0), Cha 16 (+3) Saves: Str +3 | Con +5 Attacks: Attack +6 ; 1d8+3 slashing damage ; Extra AttackTemple Sword, Attack +6 ; 1d8+3 slashing damageTemple Sword, off-hand Skills: Acrobatics +6 | Deception +6 | History +4 | Perception +3 | Performance +9 | Persuasion +6 | Survival +3 Languages: Common, CelestialEnochian, DraconicMharoti Relevant Equipment: Midgard Word Book, pg. 401Temple Sword (x2), Studded Leather Armor, While wearing this ring, you can cast the jump spell from it as a bonus action at will, but can target only yourself when you do so.Ring of Jumping (A), While these bracers are worn, any time you are targeted by a spell or effect which imposes the frightened condition, you may use a reaction to gain advantage on a saving throw against the spell or effect. Forged in Magic: Reforged, pg. 157Valor Guards (A), You regain 2d4+2 hit points when you drink this potion.Potion of Healing (x3) You have resistance to necrotic damage and radiant damage.Celestial Resistance | You know the Light cantrip. Charisma is your spellcasting ability for it.Light Bearer | Your life in the open desert has adapted your body to a range of environmental conditions. You may survive on 1 gallon of water in hot conditions (or ½ gallon in normal conditions) without being forced to make Constitution saving throws and you are considered “naturally adapted” to hot climates (see DMG pg. 110). You are also able to read the natural environment to predict natural weather patterns and temperatures for the next 24 hours, allowing you to cross dangerous terrain at the best times. The accuracy of these predictions are up to the DM, but should be largely reliable unless affected by magic or unforeseeable events such as distant earthquakes or volcanic eruptions.Nomad | Feat: You master fighting with two weapons, gaining the following benefits: You gain a +1 bonus to AC while you are wielding a separate melee weapon in each hand. You can use two-weapon fighting even when the one-handed melee weapons you are wielding aren't light. You can draw or stow two one-handed weapons when you would normally be able to draw or stow only one. Dual Wielder | Fighting Style: When you engage in two-weapon fighting, you can add your ability modifier to the damage of the second attack.Two-Weapon Fighting | Martial Archetype: Midgard Heroes Handbook, pg. 39Sword-Dancer | While wearing light or no armor, you can add your Charisma modifier (minimum of 1) to your armor class, and you ignore difficult terrain.Light on Your Feet | You can attack twice, instead of once, whenever you take the Attack action on your turn.Extra Attack | Feat: You have honed your proficiency with particular skills, granting you the following benefits: Increase one ability score of your choice (Dexterity) by 1, to a maximum of 20. You gain proficiency in one skill of your choice (Deception). Choose one skill in which you have proficiency (Performance). You gain expertise with that skill, which means your proficiency bonus is doubled for any ability check you make with it. The skill you choose must be one that isn’t already benefiting from a feature, such as Expertise, that doubles your proficiency bonus. Skill Expert   Powers and Abilities Scourge Aasimar As an action, you can touch a creature and cause it to regain a number of hit points equal to your level. Once you use this trait, you can't use it again until you finish a long rest.Healing Hands [ ] You can use your action to unleash the divine energy within yourself, causing a searing light to radiate from you, pour out of your eyes and mouth, and threaten to char you. Your transformation lasts for 1 minute or until you end it as a bonus action. During it, you shed bright light in a 10-foot radius and dim light for an additional 10 feet, and at the end of each of your turns, you and each creature within 10 feet of you take radiant damage equal to half your level (rounded up). In addition, once on each of your turns, you can deal extra radiant damage to one target when you deal damage to it with an attack or a spell. The extra radiant damage equals your level. Once you use this trait, you can't use it again until you finish a long rest.Radiant Consumption [ ] Fighter You have a limited well of stamina that you can draw on to protect Yourself from harm. On your turn, you can use a bonus action to regain hit points equal to 1d10 + your fighter level. Once you use this feature, you must finish a short or long rest before you can use it again. Second Wind [ ] You can push yourself beyond your normal limits for a moment. On your turn, you can take one additional action. Once you use this feature, you must finish a short or long rest before you can use it again. Action Surge [ ]

[Lazer]

Azar's lip curled and her body tensed as the bull wrapped his arms around her body, but she did not protest. She wanted to live after all, she just needed Gramvar to be avenged more. "So be it," she said, moving along with and trying not to glare at any of her 'saviours'. "But how do we fight the very maze that we walk through?" They bustled into an alley which surely hadn't been there only moments before, and when they had travelled only a short distance they came to notice that they now traversed a large thoroughfare. How disconcerting. She wiped yet another fleck of blood from her lips and then put a hand on Milkherem's chest to slow him down a little. "We can't run and we can't hide," she said, "Not here. We should stand, all together, and face what is coming. If we keep running we will get separated and picked off one-by-one, but perhaps together we might stand a chance." As she spoke she stoked the flames within, letting them grow in preparation for what was to come. She could feel Milkherem squirming as her skin grew uncomfortably hot to the touch.

 

Actions Move: Action: Ready Action: If it looks like we are going to get into a fight, cast Haste (twinned) on Bato and Zenda Bonus Action: Reaction: Cast Shield on self (+5AC) if necessary. Interaction: Contingencies: Concentration: Disguise Status: None Notes: Infected with Lung Rot - cannot regain HP (and other issues yet to be found)

 

Azar al-Muhaqiq
Human (Variant) Sorcerer 6
Ability Mods Str -1 Int +1 Dex +2 Wis +1 Con +2 Cha +4 Sheet	Defenses HP 41/44 AC 15 P.Perc 11 Init +2 Speed 30 Prof +3 Senses Darkvision to 60 feet while wearing Goggles of NightNormal	Key Skills Deception +7 Insight +4 Intimidation +7 Investigation +4 Stealth +5 - - Sorcery Points 6/6	Spell Slots 1st-level 4/4 2nd-level 3/3 3rd-level 3/3 4th-level 0/0	Abilities Liaison to network of spies. Can get messages to and from the Mharoti Empire.Contact Spells you cast ignore fire resistance. In addition, when you roll damage for a spell you cast that deals damage of that type, you can treat any 1 on a damage die as a 2.Elemental Adept (Fire) You are well-versed in surviving in hostile environments, even thriving where others are sure to perish. You gain the following benefits. • Increase your Constitution or Wisdom score by 1, to a maximum of 20. • You require only half the food and water normally required for a creature of your size. • You can withstand extreme temperatures indefinitely and automatically succeed on saving throws against extreme heat and cold for a number of days equal to your Constitution or Wisdom modifier, whichever is lower. After this time, you must make saving throws as normal, until you spend 24 hours in a comfortable temperature.Survivor You have a number of Sorcery Points equal to your Sorcerer Level which recharge when you finish a long rest. You can use a bonus action to regain spell slots equal to the number of Sorcery Points spent. You can also use a bonus action to spend spell slots to regain Sorcery Points as follows (Slot/Points); 1/2, 2/3. 3/5. 4/6, 5/7.Font of Magic When you cast a spell, you can spend 1 sorcery point to cast it without any somatic or verbal components.Subtle Spell When you cast a spell that targets only one creature and doesn’t have a range of self, you can spend a number of sorcery points equal to the spell’s level to target a second creature in range with the same spell (1 sorcery point if the spell is a cantrip).Twinned Spell As magic flows through your body, it causes physical traits of your dragon ancestors to emerge. At 1st level, your hit point maximum increases by 1 and increases by 1 again whenever you gain a level in this class. Additionally, parts of your skin are covered by a thin sheen of dragon-like scales. When you aren’t wearing armor, your AC equals 13 + your Dexterity modifier.Draconic Resilience Starting at 6th level, when you Cast a Spell that deals Fire damage, you can add your Charisma modifier to one damage roll of that spell. At the same time, you can spend 1 sorcery point to gain Resistance to that damage type for 1 hour.Elemental Affinity	Equipment Fire Crystal (Arcane Focus) Common Clothes Dagger x2 Thieves' Tools Goggles of Night Medallion of Thoughts (3/3 charges) Hat of Disguise Backpack -Bedroll -Mess kit -Tinderbox -Torch (10) -Rations (10 days) -Waterskin -Crowbar -Hempen Rope -Forgery Kit -The Many Robust Pages of Baroness Bressallia Belt pouch with 20 platinum and 13.5 gold Equipment Languages Common Draconic Ignan Languages Tool Proficiencies Thieves' Tools Forgery Tools Cooking Utensils Tools

Spells Known
Cantrips	1st	2nd	3rd	4th	5th	6th	7th	8th	9th
Cont Flames	Disq Gaze	Scorcher	Fireball	-	-	-	-	-	-
Fire Bolt	Chrom Orb	Enl/Red	Haste	-	-	-	-	-	-
Message	Shield	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-
Presti	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-
P of Smoke	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-

[4eyedBadger]

The Broken City Through the dark, shifting streets they run. Every corner and rise leaves shadowy minotaur skeletons behind. But, as the mists part in each new plaza and avenue and alley, more of Broken’s mindless denizens are revealed before them. Their enemy seems in no hurry. But Broken is relentless. The more they run, the closer are the surrounding hordes. The streets become more narrow, at times funneling them through spaces so small, they must pass single file. The buildings close in, their upper stories hidden in the silvery white sheen that seems to pervade and obscure everything here. Finally, down a cobblestone stair, the group finds themselves in a barely open space where they can assemble, no more than a triangular confluence of two alleys. Thiago del Magrina, captain of the Sighing Lady, stops running. His chest heaves with labored breathing. His graying, auburn hair is moistened with sweat. His strong right hand clenches the hilt of the sword that dips low before him. His stern, green eyes look ahead along their path. The narrow alley before them is choked with advancing figures, their horned skulls emerging from the mist to reveal the blackened pits of their eye sockets. The other routes, the way they came and the branching alley, are likewise filled with dozens, maybe hundreds of approaching dead. The figures are silent, almost somber, but still they come. And behind them all, from every direction at once, a furious, bellowing cry of the Broken rises like an injured bull. As if in answer, the very street beneath their feet begins to move! Cobblestones rise and shift, unbalancing the party in a dizzying dance. Azar is nearly pulled to the ground as Milkherem falls hard, completely unprepared for the very stone to betray him. Fortunately, the bull releases his grip, leaving her to rely on her own two feet for the moment as he is sprawled beneath her. He rises to his hooves quickly, uttering a braying curse as he wraps an arm around Azar once more.   Vrakiras Roshgazi, his own silver pelt shining in marked contrast to the obscuring mists around them, surveys the grim scene with bright black eyes. He looks to Azar. "No. You were right before," says the bosun. "We cannot fight the Great Maze with axes and fists. We can kill a hundred of its denizens, and still more will come." He catches himself from falling as the cobblestone continues to shift. He hands his large axe to Batoyangi. "We must appease the spirit of Broken, and make our appeal to Poet." Slowly, on unsteady hooves, Vrakiras steps toward the outside of their perimeter. His mighty chest heaves as he takes in a deep breath, holds it, and begins to sing, voice low and reverent. "The Moon brought low ‘neath smoke and flame, Blackened stone and fire. Imashmon’s children call her name, Her throne become a pyre…" With each verse and each step, Vrakiras’ way becomes easier. The stones beneath his feet shift less, almost as though they want to hear his song. The mists recede just slightly at his approach. And the menace of the shadows is lessened. The Great Maze seems to pause…listening.

OOC   The shifting cobblestone is more narrative flavor at this point, but if it gets worse, it will require Dex saves to avoid falling prone. The real challenge here is to appease the spirit of Broken and appeal to Poet to let you pass. This is a group Performance check. You have options on how you want to do this. You can add a line to Vrakiras’ song. He sings of the destruction of Roshgazi and Cindass, the ending of the Moon Kingdom, and the Lost Fleet of refugees from those cities. Those trained in history recognize Imashmon as an ancient queen of the bull-folk. Vrakiras sings in Minotaur, but that’s not important. If you, the player, want to add a line, it could be something the PC heard sung in the past, or their own contribution in their own language. You can make some other performance that would be pleasing to Poet and soothe the homicidal Broken. Or you can attempt to substitute another check for the Performance check. Azar’s willingness to sacrifice herself earlier is another example. It wasn’t enough on its own at that time, but it did appeal to Poet. I’m not suggesting she throw herself into the horde now. I’m just giving more context on what is happening and what needs to happen to get out of here. A song, a speech, a demonstration. Up to you. There really are no limits on how you can do this, but it should be clear to all of the characters that this is not a place they can fight their way out of at this point.

[hafrogman]

Zenda, Swordswoman of Ishadia Zenda managed to keep her balance as the street itself suddenly shifted beneath her feet. It wasn't exactly easy, but she made it look that way, swaying and shifting to match the movement of the stones themselves. Still, she was forced to arrest her flight at the sound of Milkherem tumbling to the ground behind her. She spun lightly in place to check on her companions, only to find them all surrounded as soon as she looked up again. She grimaced at the bosun's pronouncement. "I hadn't intended to try and fight the maze, I meant to leave it behind!" She briefly cast a glance upwards at the walls of the alleys penning them in, one fingertip involuntarily brushing against the magical ring she wore on her left hand. With its aid, could she make it up there? Perhaps... but none of the others would be able to follow her. Her attention was pulled immediately back to ground level once Vrakiras began his song. Music? Was that going to work? Well, if there was one thing Zenda knew, it was what to do with music. The Ishadian woman closed her eyes and listened intently to the the minotaur's voice as it rose and fell in majestic cadence. Then, her eyes snapped open and she danced. She danced the secret rhythms that had guided the labyrinth's creators. She danced the path of the moving cobblestones below her. She danced for the hearts and souls of all the minotaurs who plied the waves upon the Sighing Lady, and for all their brothers and sisters lost but never forgotten. As more and more of her companions joined in, she incorporated their own music into that which rang out from her soul, filling the space with a gentle radiance that followed Zenda wherever her dance led her.

OOC   Mechanics Performance: (21) Casting Light.   Stat Block Zenda | Aasimar (Scourge) | Fighter (Sword Dancer) | Level 6 HP: 52/52 | AC: studded leather19 | PP: Darkvision 60'13 | Initiative: +3 | Speed: 30ft Stats: Str 10 (+0), Dex 17 (+3), Con 14 (+2), Int 12 (+1), Wis 10 (+0), Cha 16 (+3) Saves: Str +3 | Con +5 Attacks: Attack +6 ; 1d8+3 slashing damage ; Extra AttackTemple Sword, Attack +6 ; 1d8+3 slashing damageTemple Sword, off-hand Skills: Acrobatics +6 | Deception +6 | History +4 | Perception +3 | Performance +9 | Persuasion +6 | Survival +3 Languages: Common, CelestialEnochian, DraconicMharoti Relevant Equipment: Midgard Word Book, pg. 401Temple Sword (x2), Studded Leather Armor, While wearing this ring, you can cast the jump spell from it as a bonus action at will, but can target only yourself when you do so.Ring of Jumping (A), While these bracers are worn, any time you are targeted by a spell or effect which imposes the frightened condition, you may use a reaction to gain advantage on a saving throw against the spell or effect. Forged in Magic: Reforged, pg. 157Valor Guards (A), You regain 2d4+2 hit points when you drink this potion.Potion of Healing (x3) You have resistance to necrotic damage and radiant damage.Celestial Resistance | You know the Light cantrip. Charisma is your spellcasting ability for it.Light Bearer | Your life in the open desert has adapted your body to a range of environmental conditions. You may survive on 1 gallon of water in hot conditions (or ½ gallon in normal conditions) without being forced to make Constitution saving throws and you are considered “naturally adapted” to hot climates (see DMG pg. 110). You are also able to read the natural environment to predict natural weather patterns and temperatures for the next 24 hours, allowing you to cross dangerous terrain at the best times. The accuracy of these predictions are up to the DM, but should be largely reliable unless affected by magic or unforeseeable events such as distant earthquakes or volcanic eruptions.Nomad | Feat: You master fighting with two weapons, gaining the following benefits: You gain a +1 bonus to AC while you are wielding a separate melee weapon in each hand. You can use two-weapon fighting even when the one-handed melee weapons you are wielding aren't light. You can draw or stow two one-handed weapons when you would normally be able to draw or stow only one. Dual Wielder | Fighting Style: When you engage in two-weapon fighting, you can add your ability modifier to the damage of the second attack.Two-Weapon Fighting | Martial Archetype: Midgard Heroes Handbook, pg. 39Sword-Dancer | While wearing light or no armor, you can add your Charisma modifier (minimum of 1) to your armor class, and you ignore difficult terrain.Light on Your Feet | You can attack twice, instead of once, whenever you take the Attack action on your turn.Extra Attack | Feat: You have honed your proficiency with particular skills, granting you the following benefits: Increase one ability score of your choice (Dexterity) by 1, to a maximum of 20. You gain proficiency in one skill of your choice (Deception). Choose one skill in which you have proficiency (Performance). You gain expertise with that skill, which means your proficiency bonus is doubled for any ability check you make with it. The skill you choose must be one that isn’t already benefiting from a feature, such as Expertise, that doubles your proficiency bonus. Skill Expert   Powers and Abilities Scourge Aasimar As an action, you can touch a creature and cause it to regain a number of hit points equal to your level. Once you use this trait, you can't use it again until you finish a long rest.Healing Hands [ ] You can use your action to unleash the divine energy within yourself, causing a searing light to radiate from you, pour out of your eyes and mouth, and threaten to char you. Your transformation lasts for 1 minute or until you end it as a bonus action. During it, you shed bright light in a 10-foot radius and dim light for an additional 10 feet, and at the end of each of your turns, you and each creature within 10 feet of you take radiant damage equal to half your level (rounded up). In addition, once on each of your turns, you can deal extra radiant damage to one target when you deal damage to it with an attack or a spell. The extra radiant damage equals your level. Once you use this trait, you can't use it again until you finish a long rest.Radiant Consumption [ ] Fighter You have a limited well of stamina that you can draw on to protect Yourself from harm. On your turn, you can use a bonus action to regain hit points equal to 1d10 + your fighter level. Once you use this feature, you must finish a short or long rest before you can use it again. Second Wind [ ] You can push yourself beyond your normal limits for a moment. On your turn, you can take one additional action. Once you use this feature, you must finish a short or long rest before you can use it again. Action Surge [ ]

[DaysUntold]

Nae’laa ran in silence as she reflected back on the others whom had debated the fate of their companion. Had there been such a debate before she was sold off? Had her affliction been so offensive to her own people as Azar’s heritage was to this woman and her culture? Something tugged at her mind. Broken. The voice of Arous-ok-Hebb whispered to her as if sharing an intimate secret. Nae’laa had been broken. In truth, she still was, as much as she tried to tell herself otherwise - perhaps more now than ever. Longing. Loss. The emotion washed over her, suppressing her own fear. How long had it been since she was home? She couldn’t remember now. Did anyone miss her? Had her parents been the ones to send her off? How she longed to be reunited with that which she had lost. An overwhelming sense of loss punctuated the longing. Something was missing. A part of herself? No. Not herself? Then what? The whispers were no longer like that of Arous-ok-Hebb, instead taking on the voices that often spoke to her, often when she consulted the flames, though not always. What were they trying to tell her? She pulled at the string they dangled in front of her, yet the pattern it had begun weaving unraveled before she could glimpse it. Her thoughts continued spiraling. Had no one been willing to stand up for her such as this Milkherem had done for Azar? She had simply waited while the others argued, waiting to see the result. Should she have been more outspoken? Would she have left the woman behind? Would she have stayed with her? Return Return? There was no going back, she was sure of that. When she had gazed back behind them it was as if it were a place they had never been before. Nothing was familiar and she knew that finding their way back would have been an impossible task. She scoured her mind for answers, for solutions, yet the faster she pulled on the thread the faster it unraveled. Poet It was poetic, wasn’t it, that she found herself in this labyrinth pondering a scenario that reminded her so much of her path with a woman whose powers were so similar to her own? So close to home. There were tunnels here that would bring her upon the threshold of her own homeland, that she was sure of. She couldn't remember how she knew this, exactly, but she knew. She ended with more questions than she started with by the time the ground began to move beneath them. It took a long moment for her to clear her head and realize that Vrakiras was singing. His voice echoed softly off of the narrow alleyways and for a moment she thought he was going mad, yet as she watched the maze itself responded to his voice. She stood in awe, mouth slightly agape as she watched the mist recede with each syllable he recited. The song was beautiful, even if she couldn’t understan- Imashmon… Nae’laa’s thoughts snapped back into place as the string of musings that she had been tugging at spun together into a beautiful, tragic tapestry. Imashmon. Suddenly Nae’laa was back around a campfire listening to a refugee singing in exchange for a respite from the harsh desert and a few gold. Minotaurs were common enough in the towns and cities her tribe traveled through. In fact, the ruins of Cindass and Roshgazi, the very cities the dragons had destroyed and Arous-ok-Hebb spoke of, were remarkably close to where her tribe roamed. This particular bard, however, had spun a wondrous tale of a man driven to heartbreak. He called it Blood Moon. She had been asked to weave the flames of the campfire into effects to accompany the man’s song, as she had done for many others before him. Afterwards, she had sought out the minotaur, wondering of what it meant. He had told her the history behind the tale. Of Roshgazi, the Moon Kingdom, and its fall. Of the dragons who razed cities with their relentless attacks. Of a large fleet of minotaur warriors who were said to have sailed away and been lost to the sea three hundred years ago. Of Mazuli Sul, the Maze incarnate and how the tragedy had driven it into madness. Of the Broken and the Poet; two, yet one. She had dismissed much of it as the natural embellishment of events passed down over centuries. However, at the mention of Imashmon, the ancient queen, the memories flooded back to her. As did the rumors of those same missing minotaurs returning and venturing into the Maze with the promise of mending the heart once more. She had paid little heed to the rumors at the time. Yet, here she found herself, walking upon the very ground she once doubted existed, tormented by a living maze fighting desperately to keep them out and arguing with a priestess who held a burning hatred for dragons. Tears rolled silently down her cheeks as she watched Zenda dance to the minotaurs haunting tune. She thought of the thousands lost in the war. She thought of the collective wound the minotaur culture bore and how it manifested within Mazuli Sul itself. Before she realized it, she knelt, pressing both hands to the ground, her head lowered and her smoke-like, wispy hair falling across her face as she gazed downward. Her body glowed, then dimmed as arcane energy flowed through the magma-like lines that criss-crossed her body and seeped into the ground beneath her. This was not the energy of a harsh blaze that would scorch the earth, leaving it a barren wasteland. This was the energy of a cleasing fire clearing way for new things to take root in land more fertile than it was before. It was the heat that warms and nurtures, and she poured it into the maze around her. A small amount of energy, however, she fire boltdiverted towards a dead Cyprus tree sitting several hundred feet in front of them. It burst into flames, lighting the way like a giant torch. Within it, several shapes and figures began to appear as she control flamesmanipulated them, all the while reciting the song she had heard so long ago. She didn't sing causing it to come off as more of a poem, and she wasn't a performer, so it wasn't nearly as entertaining as when she had witnessed it as a child. Still, their current situation led it a weight that was hard to ignore. Lost in the still and tranquil chill of this clear, moonless eve, one might gaze aloft and wonder how long a man must grieve until his mad and lonesome soul can finally earn reprieve. For such a man exists today, hidden from prying eyes. On twisted turning passages, the Broken one relies, dissuading those who venture close from meeting their demise. For it was she who brought him life and she who lent him light, always the moon that guided him through the darkest night. When flames aloft came crashing down she gave her all to fight. Never before she'd shone so bright, nor cast the path so red, as wings aloft set rings of fire upon her lofty head. Watching aghast from far below he choked on fear and dread Beyond his reach, the man did seek to save her from this fate. The night dragged on for far too long, his burden growing great Still, little could he do for her but sit and hope and wait Who here can blame a broken heart after so many years, for giving up and sulking in its deepest, darkest fears? Only if she can once more rise will the Poet dry his tears. When it was finished, she left the fire burning, somehow feeling as if extinguishing it would be a betrayal of Azar, though she would put it out if requested. After a silent moment, she uttered one last phrase. “We need to find Senator Evadne.”

StatBlock   Nae'laa Actions Move: Action: Bonus Action: Reaction: - Interaction: - Ignite: Contingencies: - Notes/Rolls:

[Lazer]

The great minotaur Milkherem fell as the cobbles below their feet buckled, nearly taking Azar down with him. "Clumsy oaf!" Azar hissed, reaching out and gripping the sill of a nearby window for support. The bull was soon back on his feet, however, and resumed his duty of supporting Azar without protest. She found it hard to admit, but having to rely on somebody else like this, as undignified as it undoubtedly was, also had a strange comfort to it. She had never thought to question why, when strength and self-reliance were considered such high virtues in Mharoti culture, nobles were always able to rely on slaves to do so much for them with impunity. Slaves just don't count, she supposed. They are an extension of their master. Azar could feel the warmth and the strength of Milkherem's forearm on her lower back and she allowed herself to lean into it a little. Back in Satra bin-Riks' pens she would already be dead, culled at the first sign of weakness, and yet here they were helping her, despite the fact that it hindered their own chances of survival. Why? The witch, Nae'laa, could match her power, near enough, so what did she have that was so essential to the mission? The question perplexed her. Vrakiras then halted their flight and announced a new plan, one of appeasement. Azar shrugged, so be it. They would sacrifice her after all. It was the correct decision. But instead he started singing, and his voice was soon joined by those of all of the other minotaurs in their group. And it seemed to be working! The bucking of the ground was slowing! Zenda joined in, lending the sultry sway of her hips to the performance, and of course Kaz accompanied them on his Lyre with unabashed zest. Azar stood open-mouthed, the booming bass of Milkherem's voice rumbling down her back, as even Nae'laa joined in, making flames dance and spin, and then reciting some verse. "This Poet will be sated by simple entertainment?" she asked, finally catching on. Her talents had never lay in music, her voice was too flat, her movements too harsh. So how could she help? She watched Nae'laa's expert manipulation of the flames on the tree and it gave her an idea. Back on the ship she had discovered that she could create pictures burnt into the wood. It had never occurred to her to show them to anybody, she had been doing it only for her own amusement, but now she realised that people often liked to look at all kinds of illustration. Maybe this Poet would be moved by her 'art'? The thought felt pretentious, even shameful, but she could not allow the others to save her without at least trying to contribute, it just wasn't in her nature. She closed her eyes for a moment and threw her head back, shrugging off Milkherem's arm as she did so, then opened her arms wide and caused hundreds of tiny flames to crawl and dance over the flagstones around them. Her eyes were glowing now, like the ember closest to the bellows in a furnace, and steam was rising from her hair, but she cared nothing for that. Her whole attention was on the ground. Her sparks jumped and spun, scorching the ground in very select places, leaving behind blackened lines and patterns. During their trek through the maze she had come up with some ideas of how she might improve her craft, how she could add small marks to create shadow to give a sense of depth. She tried it out now, sending the flames skittering quickly so that they touched the stone only lightly. Soon it was done. Azar looked upon her work, beads of sweat running down the side of her face, and nodded. The fresco had come out better than she had hoped, if the Poet was not satisfied at least it would not be because she had not tried. As she let the fire inside die down and her body cool she leaned back into Milkherem, then a coughing fit overtook her and she doubled over, but she was careful to aim the bloody phlegm away from the mural.

 

Actions Move: Action: Use combo of Prestidigitation and Control Flames to create pyrography art - Performance: 22 Ready Action: Bonus Action: Reaction: Cast Shield on self (+5AC) if necessary. Interaction: Contingencies: Concentration: Disguise Status: None Notes: Infected with Lung Rot - cannot regain HP (and other issues yet to be found)

 

Azar al-Muhaqiq
Human (Variant) Sorcerer 6
Ability Mods Str -1 Int +1 Dex +2 Wis +1 Con +2 Cha +4 Sheet	Defenses HP 41/44 AC 15 P.Perc 11 Init +2 Speed 30 Prof +3 Senses Darkvision to 60 feet while wearing Goggles of NightNormal	Key Skills Deception +7 Insight +4 Intimidation +7 Investigation +4 Stealth +5 - - Sorcery Points 6/6	Spell Slots 1st-level 4/4 2nd-level 3/3 3rd-level 3/3 4th-level 0/0	Abilities Liaison to network of spies. Can get messages to and from the Mharoti Empire.Contact Spells you cast ignore fire resistance. In addition, when you roll damage for a spell you cast that deals damage of that type, you can treat any 1 on a damage die as a 2.Elemental Adept (Fire) You are well-versed in surviving in hostile environments, even thriving where others are sure to perish. You gain the following benefits. • Increase your Constitution or Wisdom score by 1, to a maximum of 20. • You require only half the food and water normally required for a creature of your size. • You can withstand extreme temperatures indefinitely and automatically succeed on saving throws against extreme heat and cold for a number of days equal to your Constitution or Wisdom modifier, whichever is lower. After this time, you must make saving throws as normal, until you spend 24 hours in a comfortable temperature.Survivor You have a number of Sorcery Points equal to your Sorcerer Level which recharge when you finish a long rest. You can use a bonus action to regain spell slots equal to the number of Sorcery Points spent. You can also use a bonus action to spend spell slots to regain Sorcery Points as follows (Slot/Points); 1/2, 2/3. 3/5. 4/6, 5/7.Font of Magic When you cast a spell, you can spend 1 sorcery point to cast it without any somatic or verbal components.Subtle Spell When you cast a spell that targets only one creature and doesn’t have a range of self, you can spend a number of sorcery points equal to the spell’s level to target a second creature in range with the same spell (1 sorcery point if the spell is a cantrip).Twinned Spell As magic flows through your body, it causes physical traits of your dragon ancestors to emerge. At 1st level, your hit point maximum increases by 1 and increases by 1 again whenever you gain a level in this class. Additionally, parts of your skin are covered by a thin sheen of dragon-like scales. When you aren’t wearing armor, your AC equals 13 + your Dexterity modifier.Draconic Resilience Starting at 6th level, when you Cast a Spell that deals Fire damage, you can add your Charisma modifier to one damage roll of that spell. At the same time, you can spend 1 sorcery point to gain Resistance to that damage type for 1 hour.Elemental Affinity	Equipment Fire Crystal (Arcane Focus) Common Clothes Dagger x2 Thieves' Tools Goggles of Night Medallion of Thoughts (3/3 charges) Hat of Disguise Backpack -Bedroll -Mess kit -Tinderbox -Torch (10) -Rations (10 days) -Waterskin -Crowbar -Hempen Rope -Forgery Kit -The Many Robust Pages of Baroness Bressallia Belt pouch with 20 platinum and 13.5 gold Equipment Languages Common Draconic Ignan Languages Tool Proficiencies Thieves' Tools Forgery Tools Cooking Utensils Tools

Spells Known
Cantrips	1st	2nd	3rd	4th	5th	6th	7th	8th	9th
Cont Flames	Disq Gaze	Scorcher	Fireball	-	-	-	-	-	-
Fire Bolt	Chrom Orb	Enl/Red	Haste	-	-	-	-	-	-
Message	Shield	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-
Presti	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-
P of Smoke	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-

[Strangemund]

Let there be hope... Be still his beating heart! A man could fall for a fella like Milkherem. A true bosom friend, through and through. Even if he did rib Kazimir, just a little, for the truth he so loathed. "Aye, aye, we all know my tongue does heavenly work, but it will do me no good in lifting Azar from the ground with it! It is your muscle, my friend, that shall see us through. Cut from marble, ya are lad, and thicker than cold mountain stone!" Kazimir boasted, slapping him on the back. But oh, how his heart sang, knowing his friend’s word were true. Milkherem asked no more of Kazimir, and aided Azar, giving her a chance to stand and live another day. It was enough to brighten Kazimir’s spirits in this tomb of tombs. The Broken’s shadow but a blot on the wall compared to the light that was Milkherem’s heroic heart. Although, he will admit, the bull got him a wee bit flustered. Sidling up, all close-like, and muttering his own clandestine family secrets in his pointed ears. The heat that flooded Kazimir’s cheeks turned the blue half-elf a slightly off-color purple. His embarrassment prickling the back of his neck and ears, the awkwardness of his boyhood years all but returning in full force as that nasty thing that was vulnerability and honesty settled in. "Dwarven, eh? Explains why you are so short!" Kazimir mumbled back, half-covering for the awe and wonder he regarded his friend with. Then he kneaded him in the stomach, with his elbow, grinning that slack-jawed smile, "Now, move it! I aim to sleep in my moth-eaten bunk tomorrow morn!" Easier said than done, though. The Broken was unforgiving in his rage. The streets warped themselves even as they ran through back alleys and open roads. The fog worked not just in their favor, but the mindless undead that chased them, too. Shambling steps of hooves on stone echoed in the lost places, just as much as the rattling of bones. Kazimir did not count the silhouettes they passed in the sea of fog. Far too afraid of the answer he’d get. But it was for naught, their escape, for The Broken was master of his maze. They were led straight into a trap. A better man would have fought such thoughts– sought a silver lining– but Kazimir knew it be true when they fell into a branching alleyway, and found that each path led to the shambling undead. To death. "What now?" he asked, breathless and just as sweaty as Captain del Magrina. Kazimir wasn’t much of a fighter. But he wasn’t exactly keen on getting his intestines pulled out like fine sausages, either. He’ll stand, fight, maybe bash in a few skulls or two. Do whatever he could to live just a few minutes more. ’Hah. Was that not how all heroes of legend got their start? Fighting, even when the Fates deemed it impossible?’ "We can't run and we can't hide," Azar broke the silence, "Not here. We should stand, all together, and face what is coming. If we keep running we will get separated and picked off one-by-one, but perhaps together we might stand a chance." "No. You were right before," rumbled Vrakiras, his snow-fell fur a beacon in the dancing shadows of the maze. "We cannot fight the Great Maze with axes and fists. We can kill a hundred of its denizens, and still more will come." He fell, just as Kazimir did, as the stone beneath their feet answered his claim. It will do all it could to cast them down. Move the earth itself, if need to, and swallow them whole. "We must appease the spirit of Broken, and make our appeal to Poet." "That was an option?!" blurted out Kazimir from behind Milkherem, the half-elf having fallen flat on his arse. Appease the Poet. That he could do. In fact, Kazimir was a self-proclaimed appeaser. Just ask anyone! From the North to the South, he pleased man, woman, and hag! Certainly the Poet could see his charm, and fall for him. Hopefully not fall too deeply, but just enough to spare him and his compatriots from an untimely death, aye? He just needed his lyre and then he could… He could… Kazimir fell silent at the sweet bitter song that rumbled free Vrakiras. He knew naught the words that bellowed from his gut, but the weight, ooh, it found itself all the same to his heart. It was a song of loss. Of pain. Of mourning. A dirge. The other minotaurs soon joined him in song. Their braying voices heavy with a grief that only those who have truly suffered could bear to the lonely dark and not feel its scorning bite. Tears fell down Kazimir’s cheek. Shed quietly, here. In the shadow of men greater than he. Red soon joined their cause. Gave motion to their song in ways that made Kazimir feel all the more foolish that he would be the one to appease the Poet while a goddess danced. Breathing life in a place that only knew death. His heart pounded hard in his chest. Kazimir fixated, on her every move, and the wisps of fog that seemed to follow her. Eager to graze her hand just as much as he. But then Nae’laa, quiet and soft spoken Nae’laa, began to sing, too. Her voice was not as confident as the minotaurs. Her grief, real. Sharp enough to cut a man down to his knees, but it was no song she sang, but a poem. Keyed with rhyme but no rhythm, no way to carry it above to the weeping Poet, not while the Broken still raged. But it was because of that, Kazimir knew what he had to do. He stood up. The dirt and blood on his hands and knees all but brushed aside for the comforting strings of his lyre. He pulled its strap and slid it into his blue-stained hands, where it was home, and where it did the most good. And like that, Kazimir began to play. Plucking its strings not with a merry beat, or a bawdy strum, but with a sadness that tugged at the heart heavily. He matched Nae’laa’s pace. With ease that only an experienced bard could– and made her voice stronger. Here, the music did not overpower her words. It brought it higher. Raised it up like the hands of brothers and sisters that once held this city together. For together, it was here they bid safe passage from the Poet. It was here that the city may find itself saved by their hands, even for just a moment. It was here that life may find its way into the heart of the city once more, just as Nae’laa’s poem promised. Life. And hope.

 

Actions Move: Ready Action: Bonus Action: Reaction: Interaction: I rolled Performance and got an 18! Notes:

[Vislands]

Bato had been silent, an uncharacteristic silence not for his lack of speech, but the tight inwardness of it. The strut of confidence had dwindled and dwindled as they fled through the maze, pursued by specters and enemies that appeared from the very stone around them, real enough to hurt them, but not real enough to kill. Now there was no bombast left in the ex-gladiator's step, his pupils had dilated to large dark discs of fear in his beady eyes and the sniffing that came from his nose was not the nonchalant huffing of a predator looking for prey but the neurotic sniffling of the hunted. There was no way to fight this. That realization had fallen like a weight across all their shoulders heavily, but for Bato it bent and strained his very foundation, threatening to break what he had built his whole life upon. He had that fear in him that all gnoll did, but he had tempered it, conquered it, by also being bigger and stronger, and if not stronger and bigger, than fiercer. Bite him and he would bite back harder, and never let go. But now...how did you fight a force of nature? When the wyrmling girl offered to sacrifice herself, Bato was barely cogent enough to understand what she was saying, but he felt it was a path to safety, he would have gladly taken it. That did not happen, and now they fled. He felt the blue one's hand upon his shoulder, heard his words, a small comfort. And now...now they sang and they danced and they made fire dance with them, and mesmerizing shapes with the fire. And Bato, the great beast, felt an emotion he had become a stranger to. Sadness. It overcame the terror, the strangehold he had on survival and washed over him as this rag-tag pack of weaklings that had become his pack opened things in themselves. It washed over him and filled him up, pushing against his innards, his ribcage, threatening to overwhelm him completely unless he released it. There was a silence as the songs ended, the poems spoken. Into the heavy silence, Batoyangi threw his head back and Dice Performance: 1d20-1 (20)-1 Total = 19 1d8t 5 Running Total = 24 howled. He howled for the red sands of his childhood, the bloodletting rituals that he would never see again. The tongue of his elders cleaning him as a pup, teaching him to hunt. He howled for the lost and the Broken. And he howled for the living, the parts of them that survived the loss and needed to continue. He howled for them all.

OOC   Actions Move: Action: Bonus Action: Reaction: Interaction: Contingencies: Notes/Rolls: Batoyangi Level 6 Civilized Gnoll Beast Barbarian [5] / Rogue [1] HP: 56/63 | AC: 18 | Speed: 40 ft. | PP: 16/Scent21 | Senses: Darkvision (60 Ft.) | HD: 5/5 d12+3 & 1/1 d8+3 Status: Feats: You use shields not just for protection but also for offense. You gain the following benefits while you are wielding a shield: If you take the Attack action on your turn, you can use a bonus action to try to shove a creature within 5 feet of you with your shield. If you aren't incapacitated, you can add your shield's AC bonus to any Dexterity saving throw you make against a spell or other harmful effect that targets only you. If you are subjected to an effect that allows you to make a Dexterity saving throw to take only half damage, you can use your reaction to take no damage if you succeed on the saving throw, interposing your shield between yourself and the source of the effect. Shield Master, You have achieved a penetrating precision in combat, granting you the following benefits: Increase your Strength by 1, to a maximum of 20. Once per turn, when you hit a creature with an attack that deals piercing damage, you can reroll one of the attack’s damage dice, and you must use the new roll. When you score a critical hit that deals piercing damage to a creature, you can roll one additional damage die when determining the extra piercing damage the target takes. Piercer, You have advantage on Wisdom (Perception) checks that rely on smell.Scent, Although gnolls are cowardly at heart, they like to disguise their fears by abusing others. You have disadvantage on saving throws against being frightened. On the other hand, whenever you make a Charisma (Intimidation) check for dealing with obviously smaller or weaker targets, you are considered proficient in the Intimidation skill and add double your proficiency bonus to the check, instead of your normal proficiency bonus.Bully, When you take the Disengage action, your base walking speed is increased by 10 feet.Live to Fight Another Day, Whenever you make a Charisma (Persuasion) check for dealing with obviously bigger or more powerful targets, you are considered proficient in the Persuasion skill and add double your proficiency bonus to the check, instead of your normal proficiency bonus.Obsequious Skills: Acrobatics (+5), Animal Handling (+3), Athletics (+10), Perception (+6), Sleight of Hand (+5), Stealth (+5) Tools: Thieves Tools (+5) Languages: Broken Common, Draconic, Gnollish, Thieves' Cant Combat Equipment: Javelin (+7 <> 1d6+4), Adarga Magic Items: -attuned- While you wear these boots, your walking speed becomes 30 feet, unless your walking speed is higher, and your speed isn't reduced if you are encumbered or wearing Heavy Armor. In addition, you can jump three times the normal distance, though you can't jump farther than your remaining Movement would allow. Current Jump Distances (with/without) 10 ft. running start: Long Jump - 54/27 ft. High Jump - 21/10.5 ft. ...you cannot jump over any obstacles that are taller than 13.5 feet.Footwraps of Striding and Springing Abilities Str Dex Con Int Wis Cha Score: 18 14 16 8 10 8 Modifier: +4 +2 +3 -1 0 -1 Saves: +7 +2 +6 -1 0 -1 Abilities: In battle, you fight with primal ferocity. On your turn, you can enter a rage as a bonus action. While raging, you gain the following benefits if you aren’t wearing heavy armor: You have advantage on Strength checks and Strength saving throws. When you make a melee weapon attack using Strength, you gain a bonus to the damage roll that increases as you gain levels as a barbarian, as shown in the Rage Damage column of the Barbarian table. You have resistance to bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing damage. If you are able to cast spells, you can’t cast them or concentrate on them while raging. Your rage lasts for 1 minute. It ends early if you are knocked unconscious or if your turn ends and you haven’t attacked a hostile creature since your last turn or taken damage since then. You can also end your rage on your turn as a bonus action. Once you have raged the number of times shown for your barbarian level in the Rages column of the Barbarian table, you must finish a long rest before you can rage again.Rage [X] [ ] [ ] | While you are not wearing any armor, your Armor Class equals 10 + your Dexterity modifier + your Constitution modifier. You can use a shield and still gain this benefit.Unarmored Defense | Starting at 2nd level, you can throw aside all concern for defense to attack with fierce desperation. When you make your first attack on your turn, you can decide to attack recklessly. Doing so gives you advantage on melee weapon attack rolls using Strength during this turn, but attack rolls against you have advantage until your next turn.Reckless Attack | When you reach 3rd level (Perception) and again at 10th level, you gain proficiency in one skill of your choice from the list of skills available to barbarians at 1st level.Primal Knowledge | When you enter your rage, you can transform, revealing the bestial power within you. Until the rage ends, you manifest a natural weapon. It counts as a simple melee weapon for you, and you add your Strength modifier to the attack and damage rolls when you attack with it, as normal. You choose the weapon’s form each time you rage: Bite. Your mouth transforms into a bestial muzzle or great mandibles (your choice). It deals 1d8 piercing damage on a hit. Once on each of your turns when you damage a creature with this bite, you regain a number of hit points equal to your proficiency bonus, provided you have less than half your hit points when you hit. Claws. Each of your hands transforms into a claw, which you can use as a weapon if it’s empty. It deals 1d6 slashing damage on a hit. Once on each of your turns when you attack with a claw using the Attack action, you can make one additional claw attack as part of the same action. Tail. You grow a lashing, spiny tail, which deals 1d8 piercing damage on a hit and has the reach property. If a creature you can see within 10 feet of you hits you with an attack roll, you can use your reaction to swipe your tail and roll a d8, applying a bonus to your AC equal to the number rolled, potentially causing the attack to miss you.Form of the Beast | Beginning at 1st level, you know how to strike subtly and exploit a foe’s distraction. Once per turn, you can deal an extra 1d6 damage to one creature you hit with an attack if you have advantage on the attack roll. The attack must use a finesse or a ranged weapon. You don’t need advantage on the attack roll if another enemy of the target is within 5 feet of it, that enemy isn’t incapacitated, and you don’t have disadvantage on the attack roll. The amount of the extra damage increases as you gain levels in this class, as shown in the Sneak Attack column of the Rogue table.Sneak Attack | At 1st level, choose two of your skill proficiencies, or one of your skill proficiencies and your proficiency with thieves’ tools (Athletics, Perception). Your proficiency bonus is doubled for any ability check you make that uses either of the chosen proficiencies. At 6th level, you can choose two more of your proficiencies (in skills or with thieves’ tools) to gain this benefit.Expertise