Maliscious Masquerade

Log Info

• Title: Malicious Masquerade
• Emitter: Braelnoir
• Characters: Boaz, Jinks, Shilde, Skielstregar, Vaera
• Place: On the Road
• Time: Emblem of Ea - Thursday, August 26, 2021, 6:57 PM
• Summary: A 'good training mission' from the Guild leads a young team of go-getters with some more experienced hands to pursuit of some unusual brigands. They track down the trio, a warrior, sorceress and a Mask Golem! They split up, sneaking up to form a pincer, while the others approach. The conversation goes downhill fast and the battle is joined! The "elves" turn out to be humans in masks, who are rendered all but tacticly useless in the battle after the initial rush. The Golem, however, as is their trend, puts up significant resistance, using it's sinister masks to dominate one Sith, while slowly suffocating another. With solid teamwork, and timely inspiration, victory is achieved without casualties, the vile construct is destroyed, and the surviving villains are given their due.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Appearing  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Boaz         7'0"     292 Lb     Sith-Makar        Male      Golden Sith with silver arm and bronze leg
Jinks        3'4"     39 Lb      Gnome             Male      A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry.
Shilde       4'4"     160 Lb     Khazad-Aul        Female    Tall for a dwarf, long blonde hair in a thick braid, big blue eyes.
Skielstregar 7'2"     330 Lb     Sith-Makar        Male      A tarnished bronze scale with fangs and empty eyes.
Vaera        7'0"     262 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A tall, dark red Makari with a wooden leg.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  As the GM  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Braelnoir    5'11"    146 Lb     Human             Female    A tall, pale Acanian woman, branded in silver.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

It's been a time for odd jobs here and there in the Explorer's Guild.

Vampires...

Demons....

Otyughs....

Here, though, it seems a somewhat mundane task has been delegated by the Guild to the group, broached by the plump Gnome woman serving as the Explorer's Guild Agent handling them as 'A good training exercise'.

A bit of bounty hunting, to deal with three mysterious, if rather flamboyant brigands: Two subjects, female, presumably elves but clad in concealing clothing. Of them, one is armoured, the other a caster of some sort. The last, a male, is a sword swinger clad in scarlet scarves and a mask of rough iron.

The brief was a couple of days ago, and the ride out from Greenholme, where a hearty breakfast was had on the Guild tab, has thus far been blessed free of foul weather, though there are some dark clouds brewing on the eastwward winds, today...

GAME: Shilde rolls survival: (14)+12: 26
GAME: Skielstregar rolls survival: (15)+6: 21
GAME: Boaz rolls survival: (3)+6: 9
GAME: Vaera rolls Survival +2: (15)+8+2: 25

(Vaera Shilde and Skielstregar are able to find the remains of the brigands' camp, despite the effort put into cleaning it up. They determine one of the female figures is carrying most of the weight, and the group as a whole didn't eat a lot, and they used only two bedrolls. The trail is leading them northeast toward a forest laced with streams and such. Vaera is dubious that any of these people are elves.)

Shilde pops her thumb out of her mouth, then holds it up in the air, squinting at it from under her thick eyebrows. She lets out a long "hmmmmm".. before stumbling forward when her very large companion butts her from behind with his head. After regaining her balance, she turns back at the large dog and scowls at his plaintive expression. "Stop sulking. It's just a few clouds. Gettin' wet's not gonna hurt you."

Amongst the group riding out was a tarnished, bronze scaled sith-makar with a number of weapons on them. During their time traveling, the group would spy fangs and long talons from under the poncho, the man relatively quiet during their excursion aside from quiet discomfort and the scratching of the scaleless parts of his arms. Many glances were cast about the group, mostly to Vaera. "Verrry well," he bows his head with a low rumble.

Boaz is in his normal armor, a traveling cloak tossed over his shoulders. He's a quiet Sith over all. But when he does speak his voice is painfully deep. The golden scale falling in with the others but mainly the other Sith in the group. kin calling to blood.

The task doesn't seem to bother him, nor the vague 'deal with' instruction as normally brigands are dealt with most harshly. He keeps his eye up and alert as he can. The wilds outside a city or even a tribal village is often dangerous.

Jinks has recently acquired a second quiver and spends the majority of the trip futzing with it, shifting his belts, and adjusting buckles. There was an art involved-- finesse, some might say-- to finding a place for this assorted adventuring accoutrements on his miniature form and adding another vessel for arrows has fouled a perfected system. The worst part is that it doesn't match the rest of his kit. By the time the clouds are rolling in from the... south? No, north? East, maybe? he's shifted the whole affair towards the small of his back where he at least doesn't have to look at it. His eye only twitches a little whenever the quiver bumps into the bow strapped in above it.

One of those who were part of the group was a dark red sith-makar who had accepted the job at the guild. The ride out was fine, though the kept an eye on the bronze Sith-makar nearby all the while. She was used to the road, but the meal was welcome at least, and spared having to spend time hunting on the way. And the less time doing so left them well on their way.

"The rain does not bother me." She state neutrally, watching the roads, and the tracks. She stops and looks off the trail, holding a hand as she approached the camp, kneeling down.

"The group stayed here last night, and tried to cover up their presence. But perhaps they are not used to doing so. One carrying most of the load, but there is only two bedrolls that were set, though perhaps one prefers sleeping on the grass. And they did not eat much, they either have few supplies, or are planning on travelling far."

She stops, peering at some of the better preserved footprints she could find. They shake their head. "Though, they do not match the description. These are not elves, the footfalls are too deep and differently shaped."

Shilde just gives a shrug of her shoulders. "Elf, not elf. Bandit, not bandit. Won't know will we find them," she says, rising up from her own examination of the tracks. She claps her hands against each other, then wipes the mudd off on her knees. "Might be one of them isn't a part of them, if you know what I mean. C'mon, Rocky." She starts trudging along where the trail leads, the large dog following.

Skielstregar nods low. The scent of decay was a constant near him, something he strove to stay a bit away from the group for to keep from bothering others. "Ssssuppose they are moving ssslow. But sssteady," he rumbles out. "Maybe more thisss than we think." He follows after.

The golden scale steps over and looks at the area that the tracker read so well. He stands there for but a moment, trying to figure out how all that was seen but lets it go. "Perhaps two shared a bed. Softskins seem to often do such things. Perhaps they are in disguise or are half-sil? But we are close..and hope to get closer. Let us all keep aware."

GAME: Shilde casts Longstrider. Caster Level: 4 DC: 14

The terrain is not too harsh, and the soil is fairly firm, as the weather has been so mild of late. There is the usual amount of noise from the grass as the group moves through it. The occasional bird chasing an insect across the sky or what have you.

The spoor of their quarry, however is slowly becoming more recent, the edges of prints becoming ever more refined.

"aah'PBBBSHKT!" Jinks sneezes again, leaning forward and hugging onto the hound's back for dear life with one arm. He holds a handkerchief about his noise and mouth with the other. Without a saddle and/or bit and bridle (or an anchoring paladina) he's proven to be too poor a rider to sit up straight. And while the trip from dogback to ground is far less than, say, from a gryphon's it's still disruptive and jarring... so his allergies have been given formal invite to the party!

Hopefully there won't be much sneaking needed.

GAME: Boaz rolls survival: (1)+6: 7 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Shilde rolls survival: (19)+12: 31
GAME: Skielstregar rolls survival: (18)+6: 24
GAME: Vaera rolls survival: (16)+8: 24

(Shilde, Skielstregar and Vaera determine that they're gaining ground at a good rate on the brigands, who at this point seem to be moving more to beat sunset than evade capture. Shilde notes as the tracks get crisper than the heavily burdened female's tracks are too refined, the tread segmented in somewhat odd ways, even for armoured boots)

"Now remember, don't drop him, Rocky. No squirrel chasing. No jumping. No.. y'know what? Just walk," Shilde admonishes the dog, wagging a finger at him while the do what they can to keep pace with the larger three members of the expedition. She continues, then, though this is muttered mostly under her breath. "Still payin' for that last time..."

Vaera was following the path at a brisk pace, the footprints easy enough to follow. Much easier to follow, in fact. "They are not keeping tracks hidden." Vaera notes. "They are moving quick, but for the reason, this one is not sure. They may be preparing to make camp and guard. When we get closer, we should be careful, not make too much noise. But we will catch up to othem, with a bit more time."

"You are all okay? It would not do for a sneeze to give our position away."

The vacant eyed sith clears his throat, watching the gnome flail about and sniffle. He rubs his snout. "Thisss one isss fine," Skielstregar hisses. "And agreesss with your plan."

Boaz nods as well. "This one is fine but may not be able to sneak about well in armor. This one will follow your plan as best able too." Indeed the golden scale is rattle-y in his scale mail armor. One could likely hear him from farther off then the group would like if trying to be stealthy.

"Hmmmmm.." Shilde grunts, straightening from another reading of the trail, nodding agreement to Vaera's findings. She absently pats Rocky's shoulder, a silent praise for him bearing Jinks. "One of 'em... Y'know, just doesn't seem right. Something 'bout it. Special boots, maybe? Or maybe not human or elf at all. Something else." A hand reaches into her belt for a few strips of cured meats... the dog snatches one right away, another gets offered up to Jinks with only a little

bit of the animal's slobber on it. A third gets popped into her own mouth as she chews, thoughtfully. "Might'n be one of them automatons. Or one of them living golem types." Chew, chew. "If it comes to sneaking, might have to split up."

"... ah-ah-Ah... off when we're closer," Jinks responds after the latest sneeze dispels itself, eyes closed and tearing. Then he gives a muffled 'snkrrrrrt' when the sneeze completes the unexpected flanking maneuver and returns like a murderer in the night. The gnome is doing nothing to steer the dog. So hopefull it knows to follow the Khazad or there might be another (mis)adventure.

(The party opts to separate as they threaten to overtake the brigands with Jinks and Vaera sneaking up, while the others trail behind to not give away the ruse by the rattle of their equipment.)

GAME: Jinks rolls Stealth: (15)+11: 26
GAME: Vaera rolls stealth: (12)+8: 20
GAME: Blinky rolls 1d20+5: (4)+5: 9 (perception)
GAME: Flora rolls 1d20+1: (4)+1: 5 (perception)
GAME: Strider rolls 1d20-1: (18)+-1: 17 (perception)

The brigands are in sight cresting a small hillock overlooking a small basin netted in brooks and streams, the branches of a larger river in the distance, fed by rain and the snowmelt of the mountain peaks.

One figure, clad in close fitting clothing, swirled and blotched in floral colors of astounding vibrancy, and a what looks like a wooden mask intended to be some kind of elf is talking as much with her hands as her mouth, a quarterstaff whittled along it's length with whimsical animals as much as arcane sigils.

The male is a burly seeming figure, a bow slung over his back and a longblade at his hip, with a collection of bright scarves at his collar, waist and the thigh opposite his sword. He rumbles something that gets the staffbearer to whirl on him before he breaks out in a hearty guffaw.

The third figure, burdened with what looks like the straps of an overlarge pack clutched in it's hands is clad in a... disturbing patchwork armour.

A slender figure, every bit an elfmaid's silhouette, is covered in a shell of asymmetrical plates possessed of an odd rippling effect; some burnished satin, some blued, some oil blackened. A fine enameled white mask of elven features, with somewhat exaggerated ears describes the face of the being, an eldritch emblem carved of amber set within a gold fitting in the center of it's forehead, while both shoulders, and both knees seem to be protected by gold-trimmed steel masks...

That's when the ripples in the armour coalesce... they're -faces-; Agonized, wrathful, leering faces, distended and fused into a protective shell, and every eye seems to shift with every movement.

Of those eyes, not a one have alighted upon the intrepid adventurers...

(Jinks, with his expansive linguistics knowledge, recognizes that amber sigil as a Merkabahn take on an old Kulthian symbol reverentially used for The Tyrant)

GAME: Vaera rolls perception: (6)+8: 14
(Vaera notices every eye of the masked laden female is of the same blank pearlescence)

"Bauglir-enthusiasts," Jinks makes a... well, he makes a face. Thankfully his frown and wrinkled nose is still set firm against his skull. "'Maugrim' or the 'Dragon-Father' if you prefer." He clarifies for Vaera's benefit. He reaches behind his back with one hand and looses his bow from its harness with the other, keeping low in the grass. "I applaud their use of color; usually cultists dress so dark and gloomy..." he's unnerved by the attire and cracks wise (quietly) to... mask that fact.

GAME: Jinks rolls Knowledge/Local: (19)+9: 28
GAME: Jinks rolls Knowledge/Arcana: (1)+8: 9 (EPIC FAIL)

(Jinks realizes the figures not inundated with faces are humans. They've been eating well of late, but getting a little soft around the midsection, so clearly this is a new winning streak that they aren't quite accustomed to. The masked thing though, probably some Tarienite joke that got away from someone.)

GAME: Boaz rolls knowledge/arcana: (10)+7: 17

(Boaz recalls hearing some old stories about constructs called Mask Golems, though some aspects of this thing aren't lining up, he's reasonably sure of it.)

"The dragon father? The dragon father is Daeus, not Maugrim." They correct quickly, and quietly. She squints, watching the curious armor especially. "The armor is curious, covered in pearlescent eyes. What should we do, then? Make our presence known, or request surrender? The listing was quite vague, as so many listings at that guild seem to be. They didn't even get the race of what we are after right."

Shilde's hand gripping the fur about his neck rather firmly, Rocky is kept from following after Jinks and Vaera. Of course, the mere size difference between the two makes it obvious that if he really wanted to she'd either have to let go or be dragged along.. but he remains. Only after the agreed upon head start time has passed does she relax her grip and start to follow.

Boaz rumbles in his chest for a few moments and then softly says, "Walk up to these beings. If they do not attack..tell them to surrender. Yet this one remembers tales told of the creatures like warforged ..the golems. And of the Mask Golems. But this does not match the tales this one heard when a youngling."

Skielstregar loosens his speared weapon as Shilde sets off, him following after. For Boaz, anxiety mingled with the scent of death, the long taloned sith scratching at his arms as they went down the path. "Yesss. Offer sssurrender. Then give none if none is accepted."

The masked figure continues for another step or two after the companions have stopped to have a quick little spot of ball busting. The female spreads her arms wide in an expansive gesture to illustrate 'how big an asshole' he is, a pantomime met with a gods-honest kneeslap, and the boisterous echo of his laughter increases while Blinky waits for the show to get back on the road.

Jinks sniffs quietly, shaking his head and stowing his pedantic argument for later. "I think the masks confused the witnesses... but a lot of tallmen look alike. Those two are human," he murmurs, shifting a finger between the pair not clad in eerie, shifting faces. He sets his bow down and cups both hands over his mouth, humming almost silently and then whispering. He sets his cupped hands down to the ground before opening them, pink motes like a school of fish begin to dart between the grasses before disappearing.

They reappear in the middle of Shilde, Boaz, and Skielstregar, playing among the grass briefly before the gnome's whispers issue, "Maugrim cultists. Possibly from Merkabah. You three demand surrender while we hide? I can hear if you whisper."

GAME: Jinks casts Message. Caster Level: 4 DC: 15

Shilde freezes at the sounds of Jinks's voice, whispered or not, eyes shifting about in an attempt to spot him. Perhaps assuming he backtracked. Rocky, however, immediately puts his muzzle to sniffing at the grass where the words are coming from.

Skielstregar faintly growls at the notion of Maugrim, a rumble felt more than heard. He glances down, tilting his head at the magic, but not questioning it. "We can do that. Be ready for usss."

The grip on his halberd tightens as they stride forward.

Boaz rumbles again at the situation and the magic. "We advance. You hide." He confirms to the mystic message. He draws no weapon but continues to walk forward as if everything were normal. Only his real golden scaled right hand betrays him, flexing open and closed.

His scent is heavy with suppressed agitation and growing prickly. His tail undulates like a snake on the move.

(Jinks and Vaera are about 45' from the brigands now, laying low to await the other half of the team to move in)

Vaera hunkers down behind the tree she was behind, pulling out a longbow and nodding to those on the approach. She holds a hand, making a few movements that may or may not be picked up. "Three down there, Jinks says two humans. Cover from here with arrows if needed. This one will be ready if necessary." <Handspeech>

Jinks collects his weapon but holds one hand between Vaera and himself, the motes come back, appearing to swirl in his palm before the others' voices issue. He cants his head at the responses, making sure the red Sith heard, and nodding again when they ready their bow. "Ready," he whispers and takes up a place behind the tree opposite Vaera.

With Boax and Skielstregar moving forward, Shilde nudges Rocky and starts to follow. Then she backtracks, nudges him harder... then snaps her fingers in front of his face until he looks up. Then the pair hurry to catch up.

GAME: Blinky rolls 1d20+5: (3)+5: 8 (perception)
GAME: Flora rolls 1d20+1: (19)+1: 20 (perception)
GAME: Strider rolls 1d20-1: (17)+-1: 16 (perception)

The trio are still en pause while the male and female continue their bickering. The Mask Golem, if that's what it truly is, is holding immobile, and probably just as well that it's burdens obstruct most of the eyes dotting the twisted carapace.

However, the distant snap makes the woman in the mask cock her head a little and hold up a hand, "Wait, did you hear....?" When the distant sound of rattling armour makes her, then him turn toward the approaching band, while the forward scouts seem to be as yet unnoticed.

What does one do when one comes along another group of travelers on the road. One raises their hand in greeting. And so this is what Boaz does. Lift a hand and offer a wave as he steps ever closer. "Peace..apon your nests." He says awkwardly.

GAME: Boaz rolls diplomacy: (1)+2: 3 (EPIC FAIL)

Skielstregar had a weapon in hand as a walking stick. He glances to Boaz. Then to their mounted companion. He was not a demure man. Neither was the other Sith. This was going to go to shit faster than his heart could beat twice.

GAME: Boaz RAGES!, gaining +2 to melee attack/damage/Will saves and 4 temporary HP
GAME: Boaz rolls cmb+4: (16)+5+4: 25

It's going to go to hell. He said a 'heya' in Sith and it's all crumbling apart. With a wide swish of his tail Boaz makes a snap decision and bounds forward with a yell. "Surrender!" before letting go of the control of his anger. His muscles pump full of blood and his scales seem to brighten as he rushes ahead and snags up the female shaped foe. Clawed hands hooking into cloth rather then skin. He roars in her face.

GAME: Skielstregar RAGES!, gaining +2 to melee attack/damage/Will saves and 4 temporary HP
GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon13+2-1: (19)+8+2+-1: 28
GAME: Skielstregar rolls damage13+3: aliased to 1d10+6+3: (7)+6+3: 16

There was just something about Magrium that frustrated Skielstregar. The grip on his weapon tightened, nostrils flaring, sending out clouds of visibly cold air. If they were to take these people out, they would need to strike hard, and with ferocity. Skielstregar gulps. Raises his unarmored arm to his mouth. And bites down hard.

The change is almost immediate, unfiltered mana pouring from his mouth as fang and talon grow long, both arms wrench back as a deafening, "RAAAAAGH!" blasts through the camp. He gallops forward on all threes, the other hand holding the halbred level before barreling body first into the swordsman. Impaled, he lifts them skyward, then slams them back into the ground before getting on all threes, once-dead eyes burning as they stare down the last one.

<OOC> Vaera says, "Okay, going to try a blunt arrow against the last one since Vaera hasn't been seen."
<OOC> Braelnoir says, "blunt arrow against the masks?"
<OOC> Vaera says, "If that's alright, I'd assume she'd have some on her."
GAME: Vaera rolls weapon7 -4: (5)+6+-4: 7

Vaera had pulled out a blunted arrowhead from her quiver, hoping to catch the group unaware when the fight broke out. She looks between them as they charged, preparing to take aim at the most vulnerable targets. She couldn't quite get a good shot on the one Boaz had in a crushing grip.

And then the lanky sith tore into their own arm, charging at the man, impaling them and tossing them to the ground effortlessly. Her aim wavers, and the shot lodges uselessly into the path.

"STAND DOWN, NOW." She shouts from the treeline. Whether directed at the Makari or the remaining brigands, it was uncertain.

GAME: Blinky rolls 1d20+8: (9)+8: 17 (CMB for controlling mask)
GAME: Boaz rolls will+2: (19)+3+2: 24 (DC 13: success!)

The meeting goes... well, about as well as it might have in the end, anyway.

With the sudden greeting, even seen through as it was, Boaz was still able to lead the rush into the fray, leaving him with arms full of wiggling sorceress, while Skielstregar hews the scarf connoisseur to the ground like leaky wheat.

The Mask, however, while unable to prevent the wrathful hugging underway beside 'her', steps forward, a hand sliding one of the trimmed masks serving as a pauldron in a surprisingly fast motion and almost caressingly smears it like clay to encompass the raging sith's face to some dark purpose. Even within the fury, the base instincts of the dragon within know something very wrong is at work and rejects the sudden influences at play. Still, the mask holds firm, stifling his rage.

GAME: Flora rolls 1d20: (12): 12 (CMB check to escape ANGRHUGZ: fails)

The wiggling sorceress screeches in indignant, inarticulate fury, enfolded as she in anacondal arms backed by hundreds of pounds of power.

GAME: Strider rolls 1d20+1: (8)+1: 9 (stabilization roll: failed, continues bleeding out)

The Scarf, for his part, occupies his moments with weak, bubbling rasps.

GAME: Jinks casts Hideous Laughter. Caster Level: 4 DC: 16 (Blinky is immune)

And in the blink of an eye two-thirds of the bounty is wrangled. Jinks glances at the Sith when Vaera shouts and clears his his throat. Fingers dance through the air until they've found purchase on the weave of magic, plucking, wrapping, and then cupping a hand to his mouth to holler. "Hey now, fella, that's an interesting coat but I'm sure there are better ways of saving face."

GAME: Shilde casts Aspect of the Bear. Caster Level: 4 DC: 15 (Rocky gains +2 AC and CMB)
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+5: (3)+5: 8 (attack roll for Rocky)

"Alright, alright.. go play, y'big oaf," Shilde grumbles.. but doesn't let go of his scruff until she's done chanting and tracing a few lines on his face. Then she steps back and the great dog bounds forward, eager to assist in the conflict while Shilde herself sits down upon a log nearby, pulling what appears to be a handful of nuts out of her pouch and beginning the process of de-shelling them.

GAME: Boaz rolls will: (17)+3: 20
GAME: Boaz rolls cmb+5: (5)+5+5: 15 (CMB to pin Flora: Success!)

Boaz shakes his head briefly, trying to dislodge the accursed mask. That failing he fights off another wave of magic with his rage and then gets a better grip upon the wriggling woman, putting an arm into a lock. He snarls and bites at the inner side of the mask without actually touching it's magical interior.

GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon13+2-1: (1)+8+2+-1: 10 (EPIC FAIL)

Skielstregar chuffs and hacks, more blood laced mana pouring from him as he pivots around to loom over the felled prey. He sniffs the body, looking as if he was going to take a bite before- "SSStill. Alive," he growls to no one in particular before his eyes settle on the masked one. Refocused now, he lets loose another bellow and gallops forward, a Forgotten straight outta Charn. A war veteran's worst nightmare.

The halberd starts to come up into another gristly display of might, but he fumbles over his feet, a hand clutching at his head. He growls low at himself, "Focussss... f... focusss..."

GAME: Vaera rolls weapon7-1: (16)+6+-1: 21
GAME: Vaera rolls 1d8+3: (5)+3: 8

Vaera was panicking, watching the forgotten sith-makar on nearrly all fours, looming over the fallen man. The bow is drawn with a lethal tipped projectile, pointed straight at Skielstregar. Only when he turns, fumbles over himself does she jerk her attention away, to the strange one who was striking at the others. Quickly she looses the arrow, burying it deeply into a segment of the armor before she ducks behind the tree, breathing deeply.

GAME: Blinky rolls 1d20+8: (17)+8: 25 (slam attack on Skielstregar, hits)
GAME: Blinky rolls 1d8+4: (2)+4: 6 (does 6 pts of bludgeoning damage to Skielstregar)
GAME: Blinky rolls 1d20+8: (20)+8: 28 (slam attack on Rocky, THREAT)
GAME: Blinky rolls 1d20+8: (13)+8: 21 (Crit confirmed)
GAME: Blinky rolls 2d8+8: (9)+8: 17 (17 pts of bludgeoning damage to Rocky)

The Golem's armoured shell gives the short shrill screch of breached steel as Vaera's arrow scores one of the warped faces along it's back; one who's expressions twists in a dreadful wink as it sneers whence the shot had come. The construct, however, has more direct problems as it is still beset by enemies close at hand. The polearm wielding Sith catches a pair of melted masks, tragedy and comedy, across the bean in a backhand that, while mearly glancing, bespoke of the power within the offending limb. Then, dear Rocky, who had tried to press his own attack, catches Despair and Desire, and this with the muffled rattle of bones pushed almost to their limits.

GAME: Flora rolls 1d20: (16): 16 (CMB to escape the pin, failed)

The sorceress, of such vibrant fashion sense, is alas, less gifted in the art of escape, and is soon, spitting, thrashing and bitching helplessly as the Sith keeps her limbs pinned from any meaningful leverage.

GAME: Strider rolls 1d20: (12): 12 (stabilization roll: Success!)

Scarves, by the grace of whatever Gods even notice his existence, seems to have stopped proceeding on his way to oblivion, though he remains unconscious.

(Jinks uses bardic inspiration; courage, giving the group +1 hit/damage +1 saves vs fear and charms)

Jinks, seeing the strugle continue, moves in closer and, with a flourish, leg raised onto a stump(a little one) a hand to his chest and the other to the heavens, croons out a bawdy tune that stokes the fires of adventure within the team's every heart from it's very first note.

GAME: Shilde casts Cure Light Wounds. Caster Level: 4 DC: 14
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d8+4: (2)+4: 6 (Shilde heals Rocky for 6 pts)
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+5+1+2: (7)+5+1+2: 15 (Attack roll for Rocky, misses)

Shilde's eyes get drawn sharply back to the fight at the sudden 'yelp' that Rocky belts up... and she's just in to see him staggering back, wobbling on his feet and shaking his head back and forth, snapping at the air. She drops her nuts, then trudges up behind the battle line with a healing spell on her lips.. a soothing spell that is transferred to the large canine when she reaches up and places her hand on his flank. A heartbeat after the haling is done, Rocky's vision clears.. and a nod from his druid has him returning to the task of trying to find out where Mask is hiding the treats.

GAME: Boaz rolls will+1: (13)+3+1: 17 (will save to avoid being controlled by the mask: Success!)

Boaz screams in rage as the mask once again tries to take over his mind. His head tosses one side to the other as he reaches to his bag and pulls out his rope, preceding to tie up the caster and not be gentle doing it. That done he steps back, fingers trembling as he prepares to rip the damn thing from his face.

GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon13+1+2-1: (4)+8+1+2+-1: 14

All the scents and going ons in the battlefield make the turned sith-makar stagger about, them putting a hand on their head. He shudders, fierce gaze locking onto the mask creature. Skielstregar hefts his halbred and brings it axe down, only for it to skirt off a metal mask and bury the head into the dirt. His head was spinning. "Quit. MOVING!" he barks.

GAME: Vaera rolls weapon7: (17)+6: 23 (hits Blinky)
GAME: Vaera rolls 1d8+3: (8)+3+1: 12 (damage reduction brings that down to 7 damage to Blinky)

Vaera seems to have collected themself, braced against the tree, and they twist back into view, drawing another arrow. Putting aside the worry for now, the wooden leg locks into place, and she looses it, the projectile impacting with a solid impact. Though it seemed, ineffective. She slings it over back instead, and begins sprinting down to the scene, keeping a wide berth of the feral Makari. Closer, the scent of fear and shock was much more obvious.

(Moving 30' closer to the action brings Vaera within Blinky's engagement range)
GAME: Blinky rolls 1d20+8: (14)+8: 22 (CMB roll to use Solitude Mask on Vaera: Success!)

Another face, one whose blotchy tempering makes it resemble a sad clown is suddenly even more depressed when another of Vaera's arrows suddenly finds itself sticking out of it's cheek, near the swell of the golem's hip. Realizing that the approaching Redscale has been the only source of damage thus far, peels another gold embellished mask and hurls it, heedless of the foes pressing it from all corners. On contact, as if formed of some malign fluid, the gold-inlaid steel splashes around Vaera's face to seal off the breathways behind a false Cheshire smile, allowing the truth to beheld only within her exposed eyes.

GAME: Flora rolls 1d20: (4): 4 (CMB roll to escape the ropes, failed)

The wiggling bundle of ire continues to growl and snarl hateful invective about her captor, his pals, his people, and some possibly commentary on his parentage ensues, but she's unable to escape her bonds.

Scarves is probably dreaming of a world that didn't end in a scaled juggernaut rolling over him.

(Jinks maintains his inspiration)

Jinks's song continues, voice resonant and clear, even as his eyes sweep over the conditions of his companions, the sudden makeover of Vaera gets a significant look of concern, but he dare not break his melody just yet, the others may need it.

GAME: Shilde casts Frigid Touch. Caster Level: 4 DC: 15
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+5+1: (6)+5+1: 12
GAME: Shilde rolls 4d6: (17): 17 (Brrrrrr!)
GAME: Jinks uses Gallant Inspiration (adds 2d4 to Shilde's touch attack, making it a success, alas, Blinky is immune to the spell)
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+5+1+2: (11)+5+1+2: 19 (Attack roll for Rocky: Hits!)
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d6+3+1: (6)+3+1: 10 (Rocky's bite damage, Blinky's damage reduction brings it down to 5 pts)
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+5+2+1: (16)+5+2+1: 24 (Rocky's bite grants a free trip attack on Blinky: Success!)

Shilde continues her strange chanting, the timbre changing just slightly.. then she steps beside her dog even as her hand takes on a distinctly blue hue and growing a faint layer of frost. Then she touches the masked creature, discharging the magic.. which seems to diffuse with little to no effect in its armour. Shilde blinks, a half step taken back to consider.. then Rocky is past her in a rush, finally finding purchase as he closes his jaw around the golem's leg and bears it to the ground.

GAME: Boaz rolls will+1: (5)+3+1: 9 (Will save vs the Control Mask: Failed)

(Boaz is briefly under the control of the Mask Golem, and it dominates him to attack Rocky)

GAME: Boaz rolls melee: (19)+5: 24 (To hit Rocky, hits)
GAME: Boaz rolls melee: (11)+5: 16 (To hit Rocky, misses)
GAME: Boaz rolls 1d6+5: (1)+5: 6 (Does 6 slashing damage to Rocky)

Boaz is reaching for the mask when his primal yells subside abruptly into over zealous growls. He shifts his footing and crouches, sliding over a step he slashes upwards at Rocky and draws blood! The next downward attack fails to connect but the large Sith looks as if he's going in for the kill on the poor dog.

GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon13+2-1+1: (11)+8+2+-1+1: 21 (with power attack against Blinky, Hits!)
GAME: Skielstregar rolls damage13+3+1: aliased to 1d10+6+3+1: (2)+6+3+1: 12 (Blinky's Damage Reduction brings that down 

to 7 pts)

Skielstregar backs up a touch as the mask creature falls, him hefting the halbred back and preparing to full body lunge into the beast. But soon he finds his kin sinking their talons into Rocky. His brows knit, mana-blood spittling as he speak/growls, What... What are you doing?!" Confusion, mixed in the rage and the death wafts from the tarnished scale as he follows through with his hit. Jumping and putting all of his weight into the axe head of the halberd.

GAME: Vaera rolls 1d20+7: (17)+7: 24
GAME: Vaera rolls 1d8+2: (8)+2: 10 (2 handing the hammer, the bludgeoning damage meets no reduction, Blinky eats all of it)

There was a flurry of movement as the dark red makari clawed at the mask on their face, already in a panicked state. Several breaths attempted to be taken, with nothing happening.

But they give up, their breath ceasing, muscles shuddering as they move to conserve what they already had. The slowed haze calmed their sense too, as they focused on what was to be done. The masks come from the creature, and they are the current threat. They should be dealt with first. From somewhere in their coat they pull out a warhammer, and in the movement they swing it down into the golem's chest, splintering supports and caving in most of the chest. A wooden leg raises and stomps on their head as well for good measure, even if it did not help much.

(Blinky is surrounded and flails at random harassers with each swing: 1=Boaz 2=Rocky 3=Shilde 4=Skielstregar 5=Vaera)
GAME: Blinky's Choice rolls 1d5: (3): 3 (Shilde)
GAME: Blinky rolls 1d20+8-4: (10)+8+-4: 14 (Slam attack on Shilde, misses)
GAME: Blinky's Choice rolls 1d5: (3): 3 (Shilde, clearly Blinky hates nature)
GAME: Blinky rolls 1d20+8-4: (1)+8+-4: 5 (EPIC FAIL, It's an impotent rage)

The construct, many of her multitude of faces gouged by arrow and fang, or splintered by hammer, finds being on the ground to be less condusive to combat than it would like. It decides, for some reason, to focus on the dwarf, perhaps realizing she controls the dog that brought it down, and is able to heal it's enemies. In any case, it's flailings avail it nothing.

GAME: Flora rolls 1d20: (10): 10 (CMB to escape her bonds... HAHAHA.... no.)

Flora continues her fruitless struggling and caking the greenery around her with profanity, and accomplishes little else except swallowing a bug, or maybe a blade of grass.

Scarvezzzzzzzzzzzzzz......

(Jinks maintains his inspiration and moves closer to the fray)

Jinks's concern for the group brings the little bard yet closer, his cadences and flourishes continuing to bolster the party, as he comes in behind the fighters in case more direct aid is required. Seeing the bold Boaz starting again perhaps to falter under the mask's dark spell, he flicks a quick gesture out and belts out the next chord in a fortissimo that may just help the sith retain his own intent.

GAME: Shilde casts Cure Light Wounds. Caster Level: 4 DC: 14
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d8+4: (3)+4: 7 (Shilde heals Rocky for 7 pts)
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+5+1+2: (3)+5+1+2: 11 (Attack roll for Rocky against Blinky, misses)

"Hey! What th'fecking idea, huh?!" Shilde yells, showing about ten times as much passion in this moment as she has for the entire trip. She throws herself at the dog, more druidic healing flowing from her into the furred beast. A beast who, despite being attacked by a raging lizardman, seems focused on a single goal. Trying to pull a piece of the golem off.

GAME: Boaz rolls will: (3)+3: 6 (Will save against the Controlling Mask DC 13: fails. The Mask demands he attack Vaera, the biggest threat)
GAME: Jinks uses Gallant Inspiration (adds 2d4 to Boaz's will save before he can obey.)
GAME: Boaz rolls 2d4: (8): 8 (This turns his save into a 14, which breaks the domination before Boaz is forced to attack someone else)
GAME: Boaz rolls melee+2+1: (18)+5+2+1: 26 (Claws vs Blinky, Hit!)
GAME: Boaz rolls 1d6+5+1: (5)+5+1: 11 (Blinky's DR brings this down to 6)
GAME: Boaz rolls melee+2+1: (13)+5+2+1: 21 (Claws vs Blinky, Hit!)
GAME: Boaz rolls 1d6+5+1: (5)+5+1: 11 (Blinky's DR brings this down to 6, which is still more than sufficient, Blinky is destroyed)

The notes from Jinks cause Boaz to jerk in place as they strike and sink into his mind. The growling once again turns into truely enraged screams. Muscles dance out of control as the blood roars back into them.

He all but leaps apon the construct with claws ripping. "Boaz KILL YOU! KILLLLYOUUU EGG SMASHER! KILL YOU!" The thing goes inert and masks crumble but even still he continues to scream and tear into the thing until he's bringing up dirt from the ground through it's corpse.

Wild, wide eyes dart around, head whipping back and forth as Skielstregar focuses now on the fellow sith. They both had masks, and one turned foe. He held his halbered close to his frame, hands shaking as he breaths heavily, staining the front of his armor. It looked as if he was going to take a swipe at Boaz, aiming for legs as their intentions setllted on Vaera, but that changes as they tore into the construct. The man inhales, then staggers as his head swirls. He steps back once, twice, then doubles over.

The overwhelming scent of death receded back to its faint hint, followed by shame. He wipes his maw off, fangs and talons back to their long length. "... T... Thisss one is terribly sssorry," he rumbles in a mumble, looking up at the group. It looks as if he'd offer to help take the masks off. But didn't trust getting near anyone for the time being.

Vaera was not breathing, moving slower, before she could smash the golem again, it had stopped moving. She stomps on the head one last time for good measure. And then she turns her attention to the pressing matter, the mask on her face. It was strange, seeing the yellow eyes looking around, framed by the strange golden snout, as they claw at the edges, attempting to pull it off. But their claws slip on the metal, their wooden leg locking up and sending them falling onto their back. They shake their head and move to sit , working at pulling off the metallic guise.

In time, after the construct has been rent into fragments, the adventurers are able to, with some elbow grease and care, able to pry the stifling metal from their friends' faces.

The sorceress, perhaps reputed sorceress for all the arcane mastery she's snown, goes silent as her protector is left in ruins. Scarves, likewise, has very little to offer in the way of resistance as they are led to the fate the party deems fitting the criteria of a successful hunt.

Carrying back the booty takes some muscle, though there is no shortage in that regard, and the Gnome agent listens with rapt, almost childlike fascination as the tale is told. She is effusive with her praise and offers assurances that the loot will be returned to it's proper dispensation, and that your rewards for a successful mission have already been arranged at the guild hall, awaiting only a short ride out from Greenholme after a night's sleep in a warm inn and another splendid breakfast.

It's during that breakfast that a young human woman with red hair and a lute and a pair of siblings come to ask about the tale...

STARRING:

BOAZ
A Sith-Makar of a dull golden color and male by the looks and shape of his body. He stands right at seven foot tall and has a good deal of wieght to his muscled frame. His eyes are set deep into his skull, protected by ridges of scale and bone. Small to medium spikes of bone line his scalp, jutting back a few inches each. The longest once perhaps four of five inches long.

His body is covered in scars of varrious types, speaking of a hard or unlucky life. Adding to this thought process are two prosthetics. His left arm and right leg have been remade in colored steel and move by artifice.

His arm is of a near silver color and his leg is tinged bronze.

He wears Khazad made scale mail and carries a long bow and arrows along with his traveling gear. A belt with pouches and a pair of daggers helps give him an even more martial look.

SKIELSTREGAR
This tarnished bronze scaled Sith-Makar stands at an imposing seven foot two and three hundred and thirty pounds. He stares down at most with a slight squint, the narrowed silver eyes lacking the luster of life that most have. Some fangs poke out from his maw, a sight he tends to hide behind too long talons. His scales fight to overlap each other, with some patches missing in seemingly random spots. He walks wide and heavy, felt before heard. And something feels off around him.

A large quiver rests on his back with a few spear heads poking out over his shoulder, with a halbred crossed over the other side in its frog. With him being so large, a heavy shield is attached to his hip with a long bandolier of daggers and handaxes. Well worn and dented armor covers his torso, legs, and tail, with a large faded pendant of a dragon's profile dangling on his neck with simple cloth clothes under it all. However, his arms are left unarmored, bite marks of a large maw present all along both. Scarred and recent. Though, all of this- save the weapons- is usually hidden by a brown poncho.

JINKS
Jinks carries himself with a sense of smug self-importance, wrapped in bright, tailored clothing that flatters his slight frame. The gnome is an average height for his people (standing closer to three-feet tall than four) but manages to look down his nose at even the tallest giantborn. He slinks with an easy grace through crowds forever endeavoring to avoid contact with the common man.

His eyes are large, solid black orbs twinkling with mischief and his thin lips are almost perpetually set into a lopsided smirk framed by an immaculately-trimmed goatee. The hair on his head is shock-white, shoulder-length, and worn pulled back into a short ponytail. He's also quite oviously fond of jewelry as assorted baubles and trinkets glitter about his face, top, and hands.

SHILDE
In some ways Shilde appears to represent a figure straight out of Khazad sagas. Thick, blonde hair; blue eyes large and clear; a warrior's frame, both sturdy and nimble. But rather than the healthy ruddy of long hours in front of the forge or the darker brown shades of the earth, Shilde's skin is a bronzed colour of much time spent out in the sun. Often small twigs, leaves, or other evidence of an outdoor life might be found snagged in her braid and she often bears scents of the outside such as the wet fur of her companion, overturned earth, both living and rotting vegetation, among others.

She is typically garbed in hides and leathers and carries a club and a large shield made of a dark, almost ebony shaded wood in addition to a pack for the rest of her gear. Extending a finger width past the short sleeves and waist line of her leather jerkin appears to be a sturdier armour. A close look reveals what appears to be strings of connected pebbles. An even closer look reveals those pebbles to be oh so slowly shifting about.

A continuous presence at her side is a large dog of indeterminant breeding, grey and shaggy with a perpetually dumbstruck expression on his face.

VAERA
Vaera is quite tall even for a sith-makar, and their scales are a dark red, with bright yellow eyes. There are frills on the side of their faces, and several spines facing backwards to the back of their head.

In most situations, they wear a a long, heavy coat of a dark gray with a navy undershirt that obscures most of their legs, and conceals numerous pockets filled with herbs, and ammunition. A pair of trousers accompany the outfit, though the right leg is cut off for obvious reasons when not obscured by the coat. Their entire right leg from the knee down is missing, and in its place is fitted a hardwood prosthetic. Hinged in several places, it is carved expertly to mimic the shape of a natural leg and foot down to the claw, though the base of the clawed foot is flat to fascilitate ease of movement. Even the scales were carved into place, with several patterns inscribed as well, clearly something to which a large amount of work had been put into.