[D4, EN] A royal arrival makes sparks fly...

[Reader]

With the royal party's late arrival, the formal meeting had taken place late in to the evening [Late Evening event incoming, doubling up allowed], and night was drawing in as the royal investigators departed from the inn, finally safe from Lord Wylde's searching gaze. "
Ironrod's"
nickname was truly well earned. The royal investigators made ready to return to their quarters, those staying at the Green Door Inn having been moved to make way for the royal party. Ironrod and Prince Aemond choose the Green Door Inn, seeeking to present themselves as neutral. The safety of the inn's walls is an illusion however, and may prove their undoing as they ready themselves for bed - it is not the arms of sleep that beckon them, but the Stranger's final embrace.

Outside, a wagon appears at the Inn's North gate, but something is off. The wagon is too fast, the hour too late...

"
No Lords, no masters!"
comes the cry from both wagon driver and the boy opening the gate in the stone fence, his feet muddy despite the unseasonably hot weather.

The wagon crunches into the side of the inn, and for a split second all is still.

Then a dull thump followed by a roar and the terrifying green flame of wildfire.

The detonation robs those present of their hearing temporarily, knocking many from their feet from its impact.

If the Seven were merciful, the damage hearing would have persisted.

But the Seven do not reign in the courtyard - for now at least, only the Seven Hells hold sway here. Sounds returns all too soon.

When hearing returns, it brings with it the screams of the injured and dying. And the horses, oh by the old gods and the news the horses. They're frightened, the royal party's huge train of horses is set to stampede, threatening to turn a chaotic scene in to a bloodbath.

All around, men and women lie injured or dying. Lord Wylde himself is trapped deep inside the shattered inn, surrounded by flames and fallen stone.

Some distance from him the heir to Riverrun, Ser Eoric Tully, lies pinned beneath a stout wooden beam.

[OOC: mechanics coming up, probably on Wednesday. Tweaking them slightly for House Coldbrook's intervention (they deserve some bonuses!) along with severity of event and how it unfolded.

House Coldbrook earns 3 Glory for training the royal troops to manage the threat and preventing the wildfire being placed in the cellar of the Inn. It may distribute this between itself and House Drakeson as it sees fit.

This thread is MANDATORY unless you've got an excellent excuse.

Victim list incoming, and the event will offer a chance to earn glory and lower the casualties/fatalities.

Essentially we'll have:

Step one (mandatory) - weathering the storm
Will (courage) - failure inflicts minor penalties (injuries/fatigue), other PCs can prevent these if they get enough DoS on the rolls below to not only treat NPCs but help those who fail.
Endurance (resilience) - failure inflicts minor penalties (injuries/fatigue), other PCs can prevent these if they get enough DoS on the rolls below to not only treat NPCs but help those who fail.

Step two (choose one) - rescue operation
Endurance (resilience) to rescue victims
Healing (most specialities) to treat victims
Animal Handling (charm) to prevent the stampede (or exacerbate it!)

Step three (choose one) - Aftermath
Survival (track) - clues to the culprit
Cunning (logic) - clues to the culprits
- An NPC will be paying a special visit to Lord Baelon Drakeson as part of step 3, based on his D3 roleplay.

Obviously, anyone with a fear of blood/fire/violence has it trigger HARD in this scene. That's at least two of you, I'll be double checking character sheets.]

[Reader]

Victim list for forthcoming mechanics post:

The royal party
Prince Aemond Targaryen, a teenager but already a talented swordsman. Ill disposed to the Marstens given a run-in with Lord and Lady Marsten. Perhaps he is present in the hope they fail?
Ser Arryk Cargyll, a knight of the Kingsguard lauded by Queen Alice to for his strength and steadfast nature
Lord Jasper Wylde, master of laws on King Viserys I's small council, known as "
Ironrod"

Ser Eoric Tully, heir to Riverrun, a noted friend of Lord Baelon Drakson

House Frey
Lord Forrest Frey

House Dalfeford
Ser Adham Daleford, heir to House Daleford - curious that Lord Daleford is not present.
Ser Edan Ward, Master at arms

Ser Roger Corne

House Mooton
Lord Walys Mooton
Ser Florian Greysteel

House Lucas
Olyver Lucas, second son of House Lucas

Ser Addam Tarly, third son of a lesser branch of the Reach's noble families, a noted foe of Lady Dyana Marsten

Alun the innkeeper, proprietor of the Green Door Inn

[Reader]

Mechanics
Stage 1 - Mandatory tests - make both rolls
- Will (courage) TN 9 - failure imposes a level of fatigue (including -1 to all subsequent rolls) and -1 to all subsequent rolls from fear (on top of the fatigue penalty). Success = +1 to all subsequent rolls per DoS. [make the Will check first]
- Endurance (resilience) TN 9 - failure imposes 1 injury, critical failure = 1 wound

Stage 2 - During the fire - choose one roll - some of you may choose to assist instead but the situation is too chaotic for coordinate
- Endurance (resilience) TN 12 - to rescue a listed named character. Highest rolls choose first (I suggest listing a brief preference order). +1 glory for success. Failure = injury. Critical failure = wound. Each additional DoS prevents an injury or fatigue level to another PC. 2 additional DoS may be sacrificed to prevent a wound.
- Animal handling (charm) to prevent a stampede [or exacerbate one] TN 12 for coursers, TN 16 for Ser Arryk Cargyll's destrier. Note which difficulty you're attempting alongside your roll. Total 8 DoS needed, for every 2 DoS missing I kill/maim an extra NPC (Ser Erryk's horse kills/maims an NPC if nobody hits 16). Failure = 1 fatigue. Critical failure = 1 injury. +1 glory for success. 2 DoS on an exacerbate attempt = extra NPC killed/maimed (Narrator's choice - stampedes are hard to control).
- Healing (treat injury/wound or diagnosis) TN 9: +1 glory for success. Each DoS prevents an injury or fatigue level to another PC. 2 DoS may be sacrificed to prevent a wound. Highest two rolls choose an NPC to save/alleviate the injuries of if another PC has already saved via endurance (so doubling up is allowed).

Stage 3 - Aftermath - choose one roll to help uncover the culprits
- Awareness (notice) tn ?? - to notice interesting clues
- Survival (track) tn ?? - to track your assailants to their base
- Cunning (logic) tn ?? - solve the mystery by deduction

Additional rewards/notes
- Heroes of the hour: Two highest total rolls based on Will (courage) + Step 2 roll = +1 glory. Those rolling endurance at step 2 get a +5 bonus. Sum this at the bottom of your post if you want to be included.
- Special reward for whoever makes the highest succesful roll to tame Ser Arryk Cargyll's destrier [this excludes you from consideration from the additional glory reward to spread rewards around].
- Fatigue/injuries/wounds from the aid of other PCs is only removed at the END of the event, to avoid complicating rolls.
- Healing/rescuing an NPC = +1 to their disposition towards you.

Wildcards from House Coldbrook's training:
- 1 fatigue prevented [Value 1]
- 1 injury prevented [value 2]
- 1 wound prevented [value 3]
- House Coldbrook may cash in a total value of 3, once, to save an NPC in a manner described by House Coldbrook
- House coldbrook may cash in 1 value for +1B to a roll (after it has been made) [may be used x3]

- Houses trained by House Coldbrook:
- 1B bonus to any one one roll that may be allocated after rolls are made]

[Reader]

[OOC: Saving Lord Forrest Frey already allocated, because I liked how the PC pitched the idea to me. Rule of cool prevailing over any higher rolls. My house, my rules.]

[Reader]

[OOC: important note - I want all the rolls for this by Friday night as there's a follow-up scene planned unless you lot botch your Step three rolls. Even then somebody has unlocked the follow-up scene already thanks to previous work.]

[Nathaniel Mason]

As usual, this was vetted by Reader for NPC use.


[url=Explosion - Endurance (Resilience) - Injury][/url]: 3d6+2 15

Nathan blinks, lifting his face from the dirt. How did I get on the ground? He shakes his head. The world is silent. Ser Jon kneels next to him. He looks fearful. He is speaking, but nothing seems to come out. The Knight helps him to a sitting position. When did the world turn green? Slowly both sound and realization return as Nathan sees the Inn. It is a nightmare. Nathan tries to remember what happened. The boy, the wagon, the shout of defiance. By the Gods. The fools. Aemond will slaughter hundreds in retaliation for this if he lives. Mother have mercy.

"
Someone needs to take command Jon."
shouts Nathan partly to be heard over the roar, partly to hear himself.

He rises. The armor he wore probably saving his life from the shrapnel. He first looks to Edmund. The man is dazed but unhurt. "
We need to help people get to safety."
he shouts. Edmund hears. He seems to understand.

Nathan knew that every second was life and death. Tearing off his torn cloak, he ran to a nearby horse-trough and began soaking it in the water.

"
You can't be serious!"
exclaimed Jon. "
That won't help against wildfire!"


"
It will help against the normal fire and the smoke."


"
You don't have to do this!"


"
I don't have to do this. I NEED to do this."


"
Give me the cloak. I'll go."


"
Your needed here Jon."
said Nathan firmly. "
These people need a leader. You are a noble from a neutral noble House and well respected. People will listen to you in a way they won't listen to me. I am also expendable, you're not."


Jon grabbed Nathan by the arms. "
You're not expendable!"


Nathan wrapped his arms around Jon's neck and kissed him. "
Have you learned nothing about me in all these months."
Pulling away, Nathan wrapped the sodden cloak around his head and shoulders. "
I am not what others think I am. I am what I choose to be. Choices have consequences. Just like you, I will look the Stranger in the eye on the day he comes for me. If that is today, then so be it. I will not run from him. Now do as I ask... please."


[url=Explosion - Will (Courage)][/url]: 4d6 13 +2 BoA 15

Picking up a fallen battle axe, he head towards the Inn. He was afraid. Terrified, actually, but he pushed those feelings aside. Entering the burning building, he began to look for survivors. One wall of the Inn burned with a terrible green flame, but the fire spreading out was a more normal orange in colour. A young woman burned in that flame. Probably one of the serving girls. By the Mother's grace she had probably died from the wood plank through her chest than the flame.

Quickly he began to search for survivors that had not escaped the initial blast. He knew the Inn's layout well. Sometimes the survivor was simply unconscious and needed waking. Sometimes he had to move or hack through fallen timbers to release the victim. He could not tell if the people he helped were noble or peasant. He could see others moving through the fire. Other brave souls risking their lives to save victims. Nathan was sure that some were competing to save the Prince, but their motivation did nothing to diminish their bravery.

Cunning (Memory) for bonus on the Endurance (Resilience) roll to rescue survivors.
[url=Cunning (Memory) Explosion][/url]: 5d6k4 12
+2B Bonus assigned by Reader to Endurance (Resilience) Rescue.
[url=Explosion - Endurance (Resilience)][/url]: 5d6k3 11
[url=Explosion - Endurance (Resilience) - Lucky][/url]: 5d6k3 16 +2
Spend a DP to convert the 4 to a test die. Total 22 3DoS.


Traveling down one wing, he checked each room in turn. All were empty;
their occupants not having retired yet. Barely over the sound of the fire, he heard a woman calling for help. Turning a corner, he saw Sabitha Vypren trying to lift a heavy beam from her husband's leg. Two guards lay dead from the fallen beam, Lord Frey was alive but pinned. Quickly Nathan moved to help extricate the Lord, but no sooner had that been done, the remainder of the hallway ceiling collapsed in a waterfall of orange and green fire, barring their way. They retreated to Lord Frey's room and shut the door against the smoke.

"
What the hell is going on."
snapped Lady Frey. "
That's wildfire. Who the hell attacked us with wildfire?"


"
A good question."
replied Nathan absently. "
One we can answer if we survive."
He was looking around the room. "
I presume you chose this room for it's lack of windows. Normally an excellent security measure, but unfortunate under the circumstances."


The warrioress lips formed a thin line. "
So we are trapped."


Nathan was busy scanning the room. There is always a way. There is always a way. There is ALWAYS a way. You just have to see it. "
There is always a way. Lord Frey, are you badly injured?"


The young Lord shook his head, "
I'll survive. Hopefully."


Nathan flickered a smirk. He picked up a pitcher of water and doused the fireplace, scattering the ashes with his boot. Looking up the chimney, he could see orange and green lit sky twenty feet above him. "
This is our exit. The chimney is about thirty inches by twelve;
large enough even to accommodate Lord Frey. Lord Bracken... not so much. Start twisting and tying sheets together. I will climb up and try to secure them at the top, then we can climb down the outside wall.

After some time and a couple tense moments when Lord Forrest got 'stuck' the three arrived at the area where the healers were tending the wounded;
Sabitha and Nathan supporting the limping Lord. Nathan turned to head back to the Inn, but at that moment, the entire second floor collapsed. Only the Seven could help any who remained.

He heard Jon's voice. The Knight strode towards him. They embraced, neither caring who saw. "
So.. not today."
said Jon.

"
Not today."
replied Nathan. "
Not for us, anyway."


"
Punishment will be served on those who did this."
said Jon vehemently.

"
I have no doubt of that."
said Nathan, staring at the conflagration. And on those who didn't.

[url=Explosion - Cunning (logic)][/url]: 4d6 18 +2 20


Hero of the Hour: 42

Prevent injury/wound to PC(s) at random.

[I will adjust the NPC from Forrest Frey if anyone beats my roll and chooses him. I think most people will go for more popular targets.]

[Marq Mooton]

Marq was thoroughly enjoying himself, oh, he had to relay the events of the day to Ser Theomore, but that could wait. The girl was finished doing a little pirouette , encouraged by his comments of her perfection, now she was kneeling over him, about to playfully remove his breeches. Ah...this was the good life...

And then this wonderful moment was quite rudely interrupted by a green flash, and something..a wagon? what was left of it? Thundered through the wall of the shed, and then ripped most of it with it. Right where the girl had stood momentarily before, leaving a trail of fire..green even, in it's wake. This was the sort of moment that Theomore had described so deftly, the sort of moment when you realized something was going terribly wrong. Like the time you accidentally were to push a bottle of the finest arbor vintage off the table, time would slow down as if it did not exist, allowing you the realization as you stood there frozen that the flask would shatter and the contents would be lost forever, and that there was nothing you could do about it. And then, and only then, would the flask remember that if nothing is holding it up, it falls down.

Right then and there, Marq had resolved to weave that image into one of his tales. Imitation was after all, the greatest form of flattery. Right here and now, that thought seemed rather morbid. Even if, time slowed down for long enough for him to think it. Fear gripped him, it's icy tendrils reaching for his heart, but then the girl screamed and gripped so hard around him that the air in his lungs felt as it was squeezed out. He snapped out of it, he was unharmed, she was scared witless, he needed to be strong. For her, for whoever else wasn't unharmed.

On instinct, he rolled them over to shield her, the rest of the wall tumbled down, fortunately away from them, and he got a clear view of the scene. There were people trapped in that inn. The girl lay there quite still now. Panting, the sweat on her face reflecting the dancing lights. "
Time to save the day."
He hears himself say, acting bravely, with all the apparent confidence he can muster. On impulse, he leans down and kisses her passionately on the lips. If he was about to get himself killed, the seven be damned if he wouldn't do that first...there wasn't time for anything else. "
Brings me luck"
he declares just like he imagined Theomore might have done as he extricates himself.

The girl shouted something, his name, Marq thinks, he doesn't quite hear, the noise of the fire and all the commotion it triggered as well as his single-minded determination to do what he had to do, however foolish and dangerous it might be. He sprints towards the inn, through the fire. Whatever was on his mind as he leaps feet first through the door, only the gods can know for sure. All he could think of was to find someone in need of help to get out.

[url=Step 1 will][/url]: 3d6+2 10
[url=step 1 endurance][/url]: 3d6+3 14
[url=step 2 endurance][/url]: 3d6+3 16
[url=step 3 awareness][/url]: 4d6+1 21

Dices adjusted due to BoV bonus, dropped DP because BoV turned will into success.

Order of preference: Nuncle Walys->
Florian Graysteel->
The Prince->
Someone, Marq isn't about to be picky about rescuing people he doesn't know.

Heroes of the hour: 31

[Yoren longshore]

Out picking some special herbs for the night Yoren hears a big explosion from the inn. As he runs over he sees the entire building in fiery flames. Yoren is completely unfaced by the fire as he jumps in the window.

[url=Courage to not fear wildfire][/url]: 5d6 18
[url=Bonus dice from training with coldbrooks to will.][/url]:
(So a total of 23, one away from 4dos...)

He gets from the fire mysteriously unscathed and he continues to run in the tavern. Anybody he meets on the way he asks to crawl on the floor towards the exit, although he himself doesn't heed his own advice. If it's his time to die this is the way he'd want to go.

[url=Endurance to avoid injury][/url]: 3d6+3 10
Thank R'llor for that plus 3

Running into the stable he sees a big destrier running amok, but he's quickly by it's side to help others to calm it down, before rescuing it out. People are able to save themselves, but a horse, locked in eternal bondage is often doomed under these circumstances, but today Yoren had other plans.

[url=Taming Ser Arryks destrier with pious dice.][/url]: 5d6k4 20 forgot plus 3 for a total of 23 2DOS towards saving NPCs from the GM.

After the fact Yoren has a sitdown perioulosly close to the fire, attempting to see who's missing.
[url=Cunningly deduce the arson.][/url]: 4d6k3 17 (possibly +3 from will, for 20 if it still counts.)




Rewards
Hero of the hour: 46 (If I win the first ignore this.)
Arryk Cargyls horse: 23

[Ereth Redwain]

Ereth is behind the Green Door Inn minding his business and emptying his bowels.

“No lord, no masters!”

Ereth giggles to himself, fixing himself to be presentable again “What kind of drunkard would have the courage to say some stupid…”

A weird noise follows “What the…” his voice cut short as green light and then the roar, the ground shakes slightly making him fall as he is also loosing his hearing.

Screaming to hear himself if at all “By the seven”

Green flames travel through the Inn’s wall burning everything, consuming all. A beautiful sight and equally terrifying, Ereth swallows hard, cleans the cold sweat from his forehead and with shaking steps that grow more steady as he advances into the Inn.

”For fuck sake, you have gone into burning keeps during a siege.
Find your balls!!
Gods damn it all!!”

Heat caressing his skin and warming up his armor, noises coming back slowly fire crackling noises screams of both man and animal mixed creating a horrid cacophony, like in the middle of some play and he s the only audience. Now even normal fire is beginning to spread, like the vanguard of wild fire advancing slowly gaining terrain.

“It’s now or never” Ereth finds his balls and courage that comes with it after what seemed an eternity of time. “Wild fire, beautiful and wild but burns hotter than any other and nothing can quench it’s thirst.”

[url=Will (Courage)][/url]: 3d6 10
[url=Endurance (Resilience)][/url]: 4d6k3 14 (+1 should be 15)

Ereth opens the back door and stepping to the side quickly as a man runs past him, his clothes beginning to catch fire, screaming and adding to the twisted play, he was now at a mid point of the play as the sounds were more alive, closer, and the smell of fire and actors played their part as a mumer's farce a girl impaled in the chest burned ”Look more like charcoal, hope the seven have her in their grace”

Ereth looks for those that he could save, but also seeing opportunity. Ereth does not remember all rooms, but he believes that he does recall the important ones. Looking for lord Forrest he notices he is already safe, a relief showered over him and if he wouldn’t have left the room green flames would have done it. Not something he was rather fond of finding out. He goes to the room across lord Forrest ”I hope I remember correctly and this would be the prince or Lord Jasper, either or will suffice to have as a friend”

[url=Cunning (Memory) remember rooms][/url]: 3d6+1 11
[url=Endurance (Resilience)][/url]: 4d6k3 16 (Forgot the +1 should be 17)

A figure stumbles upon him ”By the seven, I have been blessed I found someone worth saving”, not bothering to really look upon the face just yet, but wrapping him with his cloak as if it would be armor that would keep him safe, but wild fire ate through a man leaving only it’s wretched soul behind, armor or no armor, but sometimes this little comfort and security is what makes the difference in this situations. Yet some words are always needed to reinforce it ”Muster your courage and say it like you mean it, even if you area about to shit your pants”

Keeping the man’s head down with his hand and guiding him to safety through the backdoor “I will keep you self, follow my lead, I promise I will die before I let you die here alone in this furnace, no man deserves such fate” a lie, he could make a small list of those he could like to see burned like that, but that was not important, he had to show courage and honor when it was necessary and this was necessary. “We are almost out, just hang on man I will bring you out of this alive, just trust me”

[url=Persuasion (Convince) - Reassurance][/url]: 5d6k4+1 20

His armor was hot, probably would start chaffing and burning him anytime soon but he was almost there, just few more moments, stepping away from a charred corpse that made him take a bigger turn, but finally was able to exit, stumbling out but safe pushing the man ahead of him while he tries to remove his armor, the heat was brutal, his armor starting to boil were it touched skin and eating through the cloth.

Aftermath
[url=Awareness (Notice) - Aftermath][/url]: 3d6+1 10
Spend DP [url=Aftermath - Re-roll][/url]: 1d6 2 orokos...
Total 11

Finally taking of some of the armor and poring water from a bucket of water in the back, a hissing sound and some vapor add to the play in the back, but this would be the end of his part in it, and he would return to the stands and be in the audience from a safe distance. “By the seven, what is going on here?”

"
Who gives a shit! I need a drink, I need it now!"


Ser Ereth wants to go back inside the leftovers of the Inn with a demented or perhaps determined look on his face, thirst is he feels is unquenchable... and first time he get's he WILL find a bottle that he can have a sip... just a sip...

[url=Will (Bound)][/url]: 4d6k3 5 vs. TN 12
[url=DP re-roll][/url]: 1d6 2 I hate you orokos...
total 6

[url=Bound vs. TN 9][/url]: 3d6 8-2 = 6 vs. TN 9

Hero of the Hour Step 1 Will (Courage) 10 + Step 2 Endurance (Resilience) 17 + 5 for Endurance = 33
Saved: Prince Aemond Targaryen, Lord Jasper Wylde, Ser Eoric Tully (Intended order of my main 3 picks)
(Subject to change by other players better rolls or Value 3 Coldbrook's pick)

[Septon Arlyn]

Septon Arlyn had retired early from the inn and was outside of its walls when he heard the clatter of a wagon approaching the Inn. That is odd for a wagon to be traveling so quickly this late at night. Don't they know it is dangerous for animals to travel as such great speeds at night. Curiosity peaked, Septon Arlyn made his way around the fieldstone wall to the northern gate to investigate, and give the wagon driver a firm telling off for being so reckless with his animals.

The wagon did not slow down like Septon Arlyn expected it to at the gate, making it so that the Septons movements were too slow to intercept the wagon and its teamster. Septon Arlyn hears the the gate creak open quickly and the yelling of "
No Lords, No Masters!"
No Lords no masters. what ever could that mean?

Septon Arlyn hears a loud "
whoomp"
sound and the pathway from the gate is suddenly bathed in a dull neon green color. The Septon does not see the flames so much as feel their warmth as he rushes around the gates. Oh Gods, Its wildfyre. The Septon is stopped dead in his tracks as he sees the carnage before him. He sees Nathan sprawled out on the ground, with Ser Jon Roxten bent over him and Edmund sitting dazed a yard away. Seven hells, what is happening here

Step 1

[url=Will courage test sparks fly day 4][/url]: 4d6 13

You are a servant of the faith. This day you will meet the stranger, or the crone will help you keep others from finding their way into his embrace. Septon Arlyn looks back at Nathan and sees him begin to rouse At least he is not going to be judged by the father this day. Septon Arlyn begins to make his way towards the inn when he is suddenly knocked over by a screaming horse. The horses brown flanks were covered by the green of the Wildfyre as it attempts to escape, the greedy monster on its back consuming is flesh, by fleeing through the gates.

[url=endurance resilience check day 4 when sparks fly from horse hit][/url]: 3d6+2 7 (poor showing, hopefully that is my bad roll for the day, Did a DP refresh yet?)

Being smashed up against the gate Septon Arlyn feels the wind go flying out of his lungs while a popping sound is heard from his ribs. The heat from the horses flanks thankfully pass by Septon Arlyn without touching his skin. Oh damn, I feel like my rib is out. At least He did not catch me a flame. Septon Arlyn looks back out the gate as the light from the horse lights the path in an eerie green ghostlight. Poor Beast, I hope it dies quickly or some farmer puts it out of its misery

Septon Arlyn rushes as fast as he could to the green door Inn, but stops before throwing himself into the flames. What am I doin?. I am no knight to go charging in blindly into a burning building. There is more then one way to rescue people, I will use by knowledge of burns to assist in the healing process. Hopefully my skills will be needed, as the alternative is less pleasing to think about. He looks around at the chaos and sees Nathan slip into the green door inn, heavy axe in his hands. Brave boy, but equal parts foolish as well. Hopefully he can save some people in there. Septon Arlyn looks to Ser Jon, who is staring after the boy who just ran into the hellish building, a lost look in his eyes, equal parts wanting to follow the boy in and take command.

"
Ser Jon!"
Septon Arlyn rushes over the the knight. "
I need you to help me organize a healers area so that we can begin caring for the wounded. Also we need people to start clearing away anything flammable from the structure. This building is lost, all we can do is help prevent the spread of flames. For if these flames are not stopped then this blaze will spread into the forest. Then we would have an even greater catastrophe on our hands."
Septon Arlyn's words falter as he looks back at the building, green and orange flames licking around and spreading to the buildings other quarters, shattering glass announcing were there heat had grown too intense for the narrow protection of the thin ice to stop the boiling inferno inside. A horse goes bolting between the Septon and the Knight, dragging the Septon back into reality. "
And someone needs to get these damn horses under control before they kill someone!"
Septon Arlyn calls over the roaring of the flames. "
Send all of the injured from the buildings over to me, and get me some water. I need the water to boil so that it is purified and blessed by the seven."
How Ironic "
Also send someone to the Dulvers camp to get me my Maesters kit, I have a plant from dorne that helps cure the injuries from burns."
I just used some yesterday in fact.

Ser Jon nods in agreement and takes charge. Sending a rider to the Dulvers campsite under the banner to retrieve the Septons Maesters kit. Septon Arlyn starts gathering the wounded into the grass outside of the wall, not wanting to move people more then once it able. He also orders that water be brought and sets to work on the injured. Septon Arlyn starts giving prayers to the seven, and the blessing of the last rites, to those who would not make it. It was grueling work, the crying of the injured, mixing in with the crackling of the fire, and the quiet moans of the dying.

"
There is too many of them."
Exclaims and exacerbated peasant. "
How can we possibly save all these people?"


"
We can not."
replies Septon Aryn grimily, "
If we do not accept that fact now we will waste precious time and resources on dead men, causing others who we can save to suffer a similar fate."


"
What do we do?"
Asks the man fearfully.

"
We do what we can. Then we pray. I will help organize people into groups of people who we can save, and those who we can not, and those who will be fine without intervention."
Septon Arlyn looks into the peasants eyes, which were wide and white with fear. "
Tell me your name, boy."


"
Timmothy, but my friends call me Timmy."


"
Now Timmy, I'm going to make the hard calls, but I will need your help. I will be categorizing these people in the different groups that i just told you. However, I will not be taking status into account. A dead man is a dead man, the stranger comes for us all. I'm telling you this because if any Lords find out what I'm doing, very likely both of our heads will end up separated from our bodies. I like living, I find the other option less preferable eh?"
Timmy nods his head. "
I'm telling you this so you will understand. Those I designate as green,"
That will not work, too many political implications. "
Never mind. Can you count to three Timmy?"
Another nod. "
Ok, all of the ones, I want you to place on he furthest ring. These people will be the most likely to meet the stranger tonight. Do you understand?"


A pause

"
Are you telling me these men will be the ones to die?"
asks Timmy, voice quivering.

"
Yes"
answers Septon Arlyn simply

"
So what should I be telling th' m'thy lords, when they be askin' 'bout their families?"
Asks Timmy, afraid of the answer.

"
Tell them you are my assistant Timmy, Tell them that you are being sure that they are receiving the best care that they can given their condition. Tell them to pray to whatever gods they believe in for their families safe journey back to their sides, or the sides of the gods."
The crone and the stranger will be busy tonight. "
Do this Timmy, and the Mothers Mercy will be yours."


[url=convince timmy to help, when sparks fly day 4][/url]: 7d6k5+2 18

Timmy looks at the Septon and nods, "
Now I will give a designation of 2 for people that will not having any immediate need of help, but will need some follow up care after we have more help. They will go in the second ring ok?"
Another nod. "
Now the last designation will be a 3. These people will be bad off, but with some minor attention they will be likely to survive. What I need for your to do is to find three of your friends. Explain to them where people need to go based on their number. However do not, I repeat, do NOT! Tell them what the designations mean. This is between us. Now I will be busy helping people here in ring 3, closest to the Inn, what I need you to do is reassure the people, both family and those dying, in the furthest ring that we are doing everything we can for them. Be they Lord or Small folk. Do you understand me?"


"
Right, lie to the lords and ladies."


"
No Timmy, We are selectively packaging the truth."


[url=triage the injured (just for fun) day 4][/url]: 4d6 15

Septon Arlyn spent some time triaging the wounded from the fire, giving designations of 1, 2, or 3 to the injured. After the majority of the injured where carried out and the second story collapsed, Septon Arlyn begins to treat the injured, His Maesters kit finally arriving back from the Dulver camp, Along with some Dulver infantrymen to help contain the blaze.

Step 2
[url=treat injury and wounds with pious dice and +2 bonus from will check and - 1 from injury][/url]: 7d6k5+1 21


Step 3,
As Lucien arrives with the injuried knight Septon Arlyn quickly glances over the knights wounds. Turning to the small folk assisting him , Septon Arlyn cleans out the wound with some boiled water and bandages it tightly with clean linens, "
this... Ser is a two, can you escort him to the proper place."
Turning back to Luecian before he goes Septon Arlyn says in a hushed tone "
They came on a wagon, like I said they most likely had, but the gate was opened by a boy with muddy feet. It very well could be that the boy ran through a stream of a creek bed. They might have been storing the wildfyre in a river or lake, depriving it of the air it would need to breath to burn. So if there are any waterways near by you might want to check those in your search. I hope this helps."


Nathan arrives shortly after Luecian leaves, presumably to track down where the wagon came from, Nathan and Jon are assisting Lord Frey to the Septon, who was busy assigning people numbers and having the small folk move people to the designated areas. The Septon looks up at the Big Ser Jon Roxton, his hands slick with blood and dirt and grime smearing his face, sweat beading down his brow with the pace that he was maintaining. "
Lord Frey, Ser Jon, Master Nathan,"
The Septon's greetings are curt, almost a forced harsh tone, caused by the vocal strain of the smoke and constant talking.

"
Septon Arlyn,"
Lord Freys voice is chilled, memory of his son from the tournament still fresh in his mind.

"
My Lord, It looks like you are injured. Thankfully Ser Jon Roxton brought me my Maesters kit so I have some milk of the poppy to give to you. Thomas, Will you please pour this thimble full for the Lord Frey."
Septon Arlyn begins to work on the Lord Freys leg, bandaging the wound and splinting the leg. "
Lord Frey, I'm afraid that you may have broken your leg, so please leave this splint on it until I can form a cast, I will see you after things have calmed down."


Turing to Thomas Septon Arlyn simply states, "
Two"
, and the smallfolk man begins assisting Lord Frey to the second ring. Then Septon Arlyn turns back to Nathan. "
They came on a wagon, which I had deduced from the investigations of the mine, but the gate was opened by a boy with muddy feet. It very well could be that the boy ran through a stream of a creek bed, or that he might have helped remove the wildfyre from where they been storing the wildfyre in a river or lake, depriving it of the breath it would need to burn. So if there are any waterways nearby..."
Septon Arlyn lets the thought trail off, knowing that the boy probably had a better idea of what was going on then even himself.

+1 assist to Nathan

(OOC, I'm just guessing, no colaberation with reader)


[url=coordinate w/ luecian aftermath day 4][/url]: 4d6 13 (so + 3 to roll, 4/2=2+1 DOS = 3)

Hero of the hour 34

[Kevan Lyras]

RP coming, but I am not sure if a can make before Friday, so here are the rolls

[url=Will (sparks)][/url]: 3d6 9
[url=Endurance Step 1 (Sparks)][/url]: 4d6+1 16
[url=Endurance Step 2 (Sparks)][/url]: 4d6+2 11 +2 BoTA = 13
Edit: f'd my roll. It is only 12 sorry. (Thx Baelon)
[url=Track Step 3 (Sparks)][/url]: 4d6k3+1 11

Results: 1 Glory
Hero of the Day: 27
Saving NPCs: Ser Eoric Tully, Lord Walys Mooten, Olyver Lucas (first name= first wish etc.)

[Luecian LongBow]

Luecian was gambling a bit outside the stables with a few guardsman. As the inn was now off limits to the likes of them, they found an isolated spot away from their superiors and betters to have their fun.Taking out a set of knucklebones he kept for just such occasions, he managed to gather a few players and more importantly their coin. He was on a pretty good streak of rolls netting a fair amount of copper when his luck seemed to run out. He tossed the bones and the rolled around until all four landed on their lowest sides. "
Crap, that be a shitty roll eh boys"
He barely got the words out as the explosion deafened his ears and the distant impact or perhaps the surprise makes him jump and scramble.

Step 1
He picks himself up off the ground and notices the entire inn covered in flames. He pauses in shock for a second, stands still and then sprints towards the building intent to help.
[url=Stage1-Will(Courage)][/url]: 3d6 11 1 DoS

[url=Stage1-Endurance(Resilience)][/url]: 3d6 10 +1=11


Step 2
Upon entering he stays close to the ground and uses his cheap cloak for protection. He makes his way through the chaos slowly yet surely and soon comes across a young man holding his leg and coughing as if he was struggling to breathe.
"
Here friend, name be Luecian Longbow. Given the circumstance, let's be finding a better place to take our rest eh?"

The lad nods quickly and repeatedly between coughs. He wraps the lad in his cloak the best he could manage in haste and puts one of the lad's arms around his neck to help bear the weight as he suspected the leg or foot was injured. They manage to escape the inn in time with the young man coughing profusely and injured but most importantly alive. Once clear of the inn the young man tries to thank the huntsman. Ser Adham looks up at his disheveled and common rescuer perhaps confused but overwhelmingly thankful.
"
Umm...Ser? your help was most welcome and I, Ser Adham Daleford am most thankful for it. What did you say your name was again?"

Luecian gives a relieved sigh and a chuckle of exhaustion before replying. "
Me name be Luecian m'lord but most be calling me Luecian Longbow. I be a huntsman and archer of House Dulver. I be very glad you be okay Ser but let's see if we can find a group of healers to assist with your injury."


Spotting the Septon, he makes his way slowly towards him with Ser Adham in tow.

"
Septon! Thank the Seven you be okay! Pulled Ser Adham here from the inn but he seems to have a nasty cough and is favoring his leg. Mayhaps you are one of the other healers could take a look when there's time."
He bows to Ser Adham before continuing. "
Best leave you here good Ser and see where else I can be of assistance."
The young man coughs and nods again wearing a look of exhaustion.

[url=Stage2-Endurance(Resilience) TN12 using 2 glory][/url]: 5d6k3 16+1 =17 2DoS

+1 Glory

Step 3

Luecian recreates the scene in his head from all random yelling. A wagon crashed into the inn?? With the missing wildfire most likely. Mayhaps we can be finding where it came from... He runs in the direction the wagon's scrambled tracks indicate and tries to follow them as they lead away from the inn and to their origin.

[url=Stage3-Survival(Track)][/url]: 5d6k4 15 +1 = 16

Hero of the Hour-
33

(ooc-Give me any of the other knights from House Daleford if someone else takes Ser Adham please)

[Baelon Drakeson]

Baelon had been expecting this. He had worked hard to prevent it, but too many hands had interfered. Oh, they would suffer for that... sooner or later. Ser Jon Rivers had died by fire - but that might be too good of a death for those who had prevented him from stopping this. There would be hells to pay.

Given the likelihood that the royal party was to be targeted, he and the others of Houses Coldbrook and Drakeson had forgone their usual sleeping places and were camped just a short distance from the Inn. Too far, alas. Seeing the wagon on the road, he shouted out almost incoherently to the rest of the encampment.

"
Now! Ride now! Grab the sand and stop that wagon!"


Baelon was many things, but slow to act was not typically one of them. Leaping onto his horse, he chased after the wagon, but it was too late. The wagon hit the Inn, green liquid - black as tar in the dark of night - splashed upon the wooden structure. With a mighty roar green flames engulf the building, and combined with the impact of the wagon itself a portion of the second floor collapses into the common room.

Scarcely slowing, he leaps off his horse. Running towards the burning building, his own safety is the last thing from his mind. Dragons do not fear fire, even wildfire. Scarcely aware of others working towards similar ends, he dashes into the inn. The flames roar up to consume him, but Baelon felt nothing but a warm caress as the flames licked his skin. It was hot, hotter than the heat of the burning farmhouse had been. The sweat sizzled and steamed off of his body, and he cold smell his clothes and hair char, crisp, and fall.

Hearing a familiar voice from under the wreckage of wooden beams, he strains and lifts the burning wreckage off of Ser Eoric Tully. Half carrying the man, they run from the building.

Afterward, Baelon marvels that despite the damage to his hair and clothes, his skin is free of burns. Dragon's son, indeed.

[OOC: written in such a way that Ser Eoric can be easily replaced by another rescuee if needed. I took a few descriptive liberties, but I don't think anything is too off from previous posts.]

Stage 1
[url=Sparks Fly Step 1 Will (BoV bonus)][/url]: 3d6+2 15 2 DoS (+2 to future rolls)
[url=Sparks Step 1 Endurance (BoV bonus)][/url]: 3d6+2 9 +2 Will = 11 1 DoS

Stage 2
[url=Sparks - Stage 2 - Endurance (BoV &
Will bonuses)][/url]: 3d6+4 12 Success, barely. with bonus die, no change
[url=Sparks Stage 2 Endurance Lucky Reroll][/url]: 3d6+4 13 Seriously, Orokos? with bonus die, 16
[url=Coldbrook Wildcard BD for stage 2 endurance &
lucky reroll][/url]: 1d6 1 1d6 4
Save: 1st choice Eoric Tully, 2nd choice Ser Adham Daleford, 3rd choice, Lord Walys Mooton
+1 Glory

Stage 3
[url=Sparks - Stage 3 - Awareness (Will bonus)][/url]: 3d6+1 14 Mediocre.
EDIT: Correction: Will should be +2, not +1, for a total of 15

Additional Awards:
Hero of the Hour: 15 (S1 Will)+16 (S2 Endurance)+5(S2 Endurance bonus) = 36

[Lady Corrine Marsten]

After being literally told to "
fuck off"
by Prince Aemond, the Marsten escort who had been sent to divert the royal party from their planned route turned back. Lady Marsten had feared that there would be a wildfire attack on the road, but the men were not about to push themselves into the dragon's firing line. After returning to the Marsten pavilion, they informed their Lady what had happened.

"
Stubborn arse,"
Corrine muttered under her breath, and had Jory saddled. She rode out to meet the royal party herself, surmising that, from the time the men returned, that they should be at the inn by the time she got there, assuming they got there without incident.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the horses stabled and knights milling about.

"
Thank the Gods,"
she whispered, and trotted Jory closer. As she drew near, she heard a cry go up, but did not make out the exact words. Then, her vision went bright green and painful, and she could feel herself being flung backwards as a deafening thump burst through the night, and she felt the damp earth beneath her.

She blinked myopically, her ears ringing, and she tried to stand up. Everything was burning green, the inn smouldering in shattered splinters. People and horses were scrambling and screaming. No sign of Jory. She could see other people fighting to free themselves from the wreckage of the inn.

She shook herself from her stunned, frozen state, and strode towards the inn, though a little unsteadily, as she was still disoriented, and trying not to be trampled.

Gods, please don't let Ben be in there.

The first person she found was Ser Florian Greysteel, his legs trapped beneath a beam, a nasty gash in his thigh from a shard of splintered wood. His heavy armour was adding to his difficulties as he struggled to escape.

"
Lie still a moment, Ser! I'll help you!"
she told him, hurriedly kneeling beside him, undoing the straps of his breastplate and pulling off his pauldrons. Once she'd gotten those fetters off him, he could sit up a little, though not without sharp pain in his wounded leg. However, it allowed him to help Corrine lift the beam enough for him to slide out from under it. With great effort, she helped him up, keeping his weight off the torn leg. Though she was smaller than him, she put all her strength into supportinghim as she helped him hobble away from the inn a short way. She lowered him down onto the grass, his back supported by a fence post.

"
I need to help them,"
Ser Florian panted, wincing in pain.

"
I need to help you first,"
Corrine replied, firmly, though her voice had a tremor of fear and panic in it. "
You'll be no good to anyone with your leg like that."


She glanced back at the inn, a scene of total chaos. Despite that, she could see people running to help put out the wildfire and save the residents from the building.

"
Others are going in to save people. It'll be alright. Just stay still while I try to deal with this wound,"
she said, trying to reassure herself as much as him.

The shard of wood in his thigh was huge, but seemed to be all in one piece, and not in anything vital, so she told him to brace himself, and pulled it out. It had dug deep into the muscle, and he yelped in pain.

"
I'm sorry! I'm sorry! That should be the worst of it,"
she apologised, putting pressure on his leg until the bleeding stopped. "
You're going to be alright. It's a flesh wound. I don't have anything to clean or stitch it with, but I can try to bind it."


She pulled off her scarf, a length of blue silk, and bound the wound as best she could, keeping the pressure firm and even, like she'd remembered from when the Blackwood guardsman at Riverrun had slashed her with a knife. This wound was shorter, but deeper. She hoped dearly that she was getting it right. She kept glancing over her shoulder at the decastation, desperate to see Ben safe.

She fastened off the fabric with one of her own hair pins, and checked that Ser Florian was otherwise unharmed.

"
Excuse me a moment, Ser. I will return,"
she said, and dashed back towards the inn, calling out to the others who were rescuing bodies from the blaze.

"
Over here! Bring the wounded this way!"
she shouted, waving her arms.

[url=Will - Courage][/url]: 5d6k4 15 (+2 to subsequent rolls)
[url=Endurance - Resilience][/url]: 2d6+2 9 (Phew!)

[url=Healing][/url]: 3d6+2 12

[url=Awareness - Notice][/url]: 3d6+2 14

Heroes of the hour: 27

[Ser Jorah Holt]

Ser Jorah, alert to the potential for danger, saw the cart as it careered towards the inn. He began running to intercept, screaming at Lueican or any archer to shoot the horses to try and stop the cart, but it was too late. As the cart impacted into the inn, he grabbed the nearest person, not caring who they were and pulled them to the ground as the Inn exploded into green flame.
Picking himself up off the floor, he checked the person he grabbed to make sure they were alright. The scene was pandemonium;
the horses were panicking, servants screaming, the fire raged, flames erupting everywhere.
He saw his young squire;
sweat was dripping down his face, his eyes wide with terror. He needed to snap Trelane out of his shock, get him focused and out of this situation. He was not going to be much use to deal with this bedlam.
“Trelane, get the troops reorganised and in here now. We need to get that fire out!”
Trelane shook his head as Jorah shouted at him, his fear of the fire temporarily forgotten now he had something else to focus on.
“What about you Ser?” his young squire replied
Looking at the inn, he could hear screams for help. He weighed the options for a moment;
Eoric Tully was a black supporter and the son of their Leige Lord, Ser Adham Daleford he was attempting to find his sister, Lord Wylde was an important personage, then he realised who else was in there;
if Prince Aemond died, this situation would go from bad to worst
His dragon might go on a rampage, with nobody to control it;
the Royals may level this entire region in revenge and it would polarise the factions even further. As arrogant as the boy was, he could not let him. He tore a strip from his cloak, covering his face to protect himself from the smoke.
“Somebody has to do some thrilling heroics,” he sighed, as hen plunged into the fire.
Fighting his way through the smoke and flames, he could see where Prince Aemond lay trapped beneath a beam, green and red flames licking at him and his white hair charred.
“Help has arrived your highness.” Jorah announced as he grabbed the beam and strained with all his might. Slowly, but surely the beam lifted up and Prince Aemond scrambled free.
“What took you so long?” Aemond coughed
Supporting the young man, Jorah carried him to safety.


[url=Will][/url]: 3d6k3 12 +1 to all rolls
[url=endurance][/url]: 4d6k4 13 +1 =14

stage 2
[url=endurance][/url]: 5d6k4 18 +1 and BD= 23
(use DP to make the bonus dice a test dice - 23)

Stage 3

+1 Survival assist to either luecian or Trelane (depends on what happens with my squire)

Prince Aemond (if need be, I'll burn a DP to ensure it), Ser Adham Daleford

Hero of the hour: 12 +23 +5= 40

Guessing nobody will beat his endurance score

[Loreia]

Stage 1
[url=Day 4 sparks fly - Courage][/url]: 5d6k4 14
2 DoS: +2 to all subsequent tests

[url=Day 4 sparks fly - Endurance][/url]: 5d6+2 14
Unhurt

[url=Day 4 sparks fly - Endurance][/url]: 4d6k3 13
Hound is unhurt

Stage 2
MISTAKE CORRECTED
[url=Day 4 sparks fly - Animal Handling TN12][/url]: 4d6 19 +2 +1D(wildcard+DP) = 27
[url=Day 4 sparks fly - Animal Handling DP][/url]: 1d6 6 (changed to count as "
wildcard"
1B instead, DP spent to turn into test die)
Stampede mitigated: 4/8

Loreia! The figure standing over calls her with an edge in her tone, reluctance in posture. On your feet, sister!

She shakes off her weariness and stands. Green light draws her eye toward a nearby structure, burning out of control: the Green Door Inn. Even though made of sturdy oak, the fire certainly makes its name apt. Though the owner afforded beams made of ironwood, no wood so sturdy can stand against the alchemists' fire.

Shrieking from the flames and sudden cry of horses freezes her blood, echoing and beckoning the few unpleasant memories she had of the turncloak ironborn raid. The wailing - a dire medley of cries, shouts, screams - remained constant, fading back in intermittently as the fire continued to burn all without distinction.

She looks to her faithful companion, who had turned tail and ran at the first sign of danger. She calls out to him, and he obeys, running to her side whining all the way. "
Come on, boy,"
she pats him on the back. Looking toward the scene, she hears the distressed cries of victims inside the in, burning, suffocating, crushed. The screams of the horses indicate a threat she could prevent. Mitigating the pain of the distressed and dying, or redirecting a threat that would otherwise kill with certainty. Torn, she mutters a curse under her breath.

"
Shit. Stampede! Reign in the horses! Get to the horses!"
she calls out before taking off herself.

Her rallying cry gathers at least one or two others to help if not because they had the same idea, and on her own she manages to grab the reigns of horses in turn, and calling a few with commands, to try and steer them from their herd, redirecting their panicked thunder and scattering them to the fields and woods to be found the following day. Her timing is most fortuitous, and manages to save someone from being trampled very early on. The survivor passes off their thanks as they hurry to safety or otherwise to aid the victims of the blast.

In the interim, she recalls words that had been shouted: No lords, no masters! Whoever was on that wagon, and whoever opened the door, were likely killed outright in the blast. Her cheeks burn.

Aftermath
[url=Day 4 sparks fly - Track][/url]: 6d6k3 11
+2 from Will(Courage), +1 assist(Loreia) = 14
Try try try...

Loreia rushes over to Daveth after the chaos has settled, dusting him him off. The wildfire has been doused dry with sand, soot, and dirt, but not before it burned many to the bone, forcing soldiers to impart the Gift on a few mortally wounded men, women, and children. More who yet live are scarred by the burns. Sword in hand, Loreia approaches the charred remains of the wagon and the inn to find someone to blame for this outrageous attack. All she finds are gathered men and women gawking at the damage and the dead. By now, the wailing has devolved into crying and sobbing. Loreia is about to sift through the ashes when a man around Daveth's age takes off running along the tracks left by the wagon, a man she recognizes by the bow slung over his shoulder.

A man with what happens to be the best she can come up with. She manages to find some debris from the blast that didn't burn, forces the scent on Badger, following him wherever he goes, which of course takes her along the tracks left by the wagon.

Heroes of the Hour: 41

[Benedict Marsten]

Stage1
[url=Stage 1 Will(courage)][/url]: 4d6k3 15
[url=Stage 1 Endurance +2 BoFM, +2 Will DoS][/url]: 3d6+4 9

When Pudgy had found Ben he quickly relayed that Lady Corrine had rode for the Green Door Inn to speak with the royal party after they had refused to be diverted. He mounted Strax and rode hard for the inn. Hoping there had been no incident, whether wildfire or Aemond's wrath.

Damn that arrogant arse.

Ben could see nothing from his angle of arrival. A quick seering light steals his vision, followed by deafening roar. As well trained as Strax was he still managed to throw his able master. With a jarring impact Ben hits the ground. He rolls hard to avoid being trampled under hoof.
He stands shakily, acutely aware that he can hear little and lights play at the edge of his vision.

Fuck! Bet that cunt wished he listned now!

His starry sight regains some focus and begins to search for signs of Corrine. A small panic grows in his stomach. He attempts to ask scurrying folk if they have seen the Lady Marsten, but he finds it hard to even hear him self. The startled people only mouth unheard words and pull free to run away.

She may be inside!

Without pause Ben gathers his wits(or maybe quite the contrary) and heads long towards the spreading death trap.

Stage 2
[url=Stage 2 Endurance +2 BoFM, +2 Will DoS][/url]: 3d6+4 13

Dodging the green flames brings Ben close to the natural orange and blue. The toxic flames and fumes that fill the building make each breath a chore as he walks through the stuff of nightmares. There is a bustle of movement seen other brave(or stupid) individuals hauling out the injured.

Ben stumbles over a figure(Ser Arryk Cargyll) at foot of what was once the bar. Splinters protrude from the armored figure like a porcupine, but he looks to be breathing. Ben hesitates, debating on going further to search for Corrine or get this poor soul to safety. She would want me to save him. He squats low tossing the large spiked body over his shoulder with a grunt.

He quickly beats out a flame spreading up the mans tabard. The splinters find exposed areas and dig into his flesh. The exits requires more maneuvering and finesse then his entry. His vision and movement is limited by the victim.

Stage 3
[url=Stage 3 Awareness][/url]: 3d6+2 17

Ben shuffles forth from the blaze, gulping air. His vigilant eyes scan for signs of Corrine. His heart swells and stomach drops when he sees her soot covered face working amongst healers and others to direct aid. Some other things become apparent as well...

Hero of the hour: 15(S1 Will) +13(S2 Endurance)+5(S2 bonus) = 33

[Daveth Coldbrook]

Daveth was awoken by the camp erupting into action. It didn't take much, the discomfort from sleeping fully dressed meaning that it wasn't that restful. But if he was right, they'd attack the inn tonight, although their method escaped him, and he had to be ready. It seemed he was right.

If only you'd been better. Maybe you'd have prevented this entirely? How many meet their Stranger tonight that wouldn't if you were as good as you think you are?

He rises, and grabs his maester's kit. Too many. But I can still save a few, and for them, that'll be the difference of a lifetime.

Following the crowd of troops advancing with sand ready to control the flame, Daveth stands a moment in awe as the sickly-green wildfire flames light up the region.

[url=Royal Arrival - Will (Courage) (TN9)][/url]: 4d6 9 +1 to future rolls.
I know what you are. I understand the danger. But I am a Coldbrook. I will not be deterred.

Daveth closes with the inn to assess the situation, and almost immediately regrets it. The smell of burning flesh, and the panicked whinneys from the horses were like a kick to the stomach, and the harsh green light lent a strange surreal air to the situation. Horses and men dashing around, chaos surrounding him, the fine line between life and death erased into imperceptibility. His ears roaring, his head light, his stomach twists beyond his ability to hold it. The best he can do is turn away before he hurls his last dinner to the ground, acid burning his mouth and throat.
[url=Sensitive Stomach - Royal Arrival (TN12)][/url]: 4d6+1 7 -1D to future rolls. Throw up.

Turning back to the inn, he spots a weakened man crawling out the door. Instinctively, Daveth moves closer to help him. Unfortunately, before he can get there, a small plank of wood comes flying from somewhere, and rips open a gash down Daveth's leg, sending him spinning to the ground.
[url=Royal Arrival - Endurance -1D +1 (TN9)][/url]: 2d6k1+1 6 Take injury (-1 to future rolls). (Note: I am not seeking for this injury to be prevented)

Idiot! What do you think you're doing? You're no man of action. When there's saving to be done, you don't get to play the role of 'saviour'.

Rubbing in those words, the man he'd moved to help had cleared the building all by himself, stood, and proceeded to help Daveth back to his feet, and lead him, limping, to a relatively safe distance.

Focus on what you're here for. See, there, the injured gather. Go. Heal.

Daveth looks down at his injury. Bleeding, but not badly. It could wait. Spotting the injured gathering, he limps over to them, and slings his bad to the ground. Inside, he'd already prepared for this situation, with plenty of poultice designed specifically to help burn wounds already made, as well as a mixture of leaves to chew that would do no more than calm the patient, and prevent them from panicking. Through the strange lighting, he saw other healers gathering, but not much in the way of supplies yet. If they wanted, they could help themselves to his until more showed up.

His first patient was a knight, with two mountains on his coat of arms, impaled through the chest with a beam. No, not a beam. A lance, pierced right through his chest. The knight's slack face lolls to face him, and Joren's cold lips speak. "
Your fault!"
Daveth barely has time to turn his head away from the injured before bile comes pouring out his mouth for the second time.
[url=Royal Arrival - Regain control of stomach -1D (TN12)][/url]: 4d6k3 7 -1D penalty remains. Throw up again.

Daveth remains kneeling on the ground after voiding his stomach. I can't do it. I'm smart, but in a crisis like this, I just can't keep it together. I'm weak. I don't deserve to be heir. Gods save me.

Maybe I was unclear. I did not order you to *kneel*. I ordered you to *heal*! Now, what are you? Are you a worm, to love the ground so much?

No. I am a man.

And what kind of a man are you?

I am a Coldbrook.

And what do Coldbrooks never do?

Falter. Never falter.

Really? You seem to be faltering right now? So, what are you? A faltering worm, or a healing Coldbrook?

Daveth clenches his fist, and punches his wound. The sharp stab of pain raises him from his lethargy, and he gets up, turning back to his original patient, now displaying nothing worse than a couple of light burns.

I am a Coldbrook. And he moves from patient to patient, doing what he can for those he can, though his nausea doesn't subside, and his face grows steadily paler and sweatier, and his leg more bloody as time passes, though at some point, once the initial tumult passes, he swiftly wraps it in bandage to limit the bleeding. He doesn't bother with playing politics in his choices, he just heals to the best of his ability, for as long as his body holds out.
[url=Royal Arrival - Healing (Treat Injury) -1D (TN9)][/url]: 4d6k2 10 +1 Glory. -1 fatigue/injury to another PC.

In the strange lightness his brain is floating in, he slowly starts putting pieces together to figure out what he missed.
[url=Royal Arrival - Cunning][/url]: 4d6 14 Spending one of our house BD here.
[url=Royal Arrival - Phase 3 Cunning - Wild Bonus die][/url]: 1d6 6 Final result: 19

Hero of the Hour: Hahahahahaha. No.

[Samurel Manderly]

There is nothing quite like the brisk air of night to invigorate a man, thought Samurel. Making his way back to his Lady after an evening of less then honest deeds. It all happened so quickly then, a moment of supreme calm followed by the gush and blow-back of an explosion, even as far away as he was, Samurel's ears were ringing, bright green flame erupting out of the Green Door Inn, the place where he had intended on going to.

A blur of motion set in around him, people screaming and wailing, nobles crying out, he could've sworn to have seen any number of the houses from the morning rushing in to the burning Inn... but for what purpose?

A thought struck him like a blade in his side... what if his lady was in the Inn, or Ben or Kevan... the sole home and family Sam had left, the family that care more about his well being and talents rather then of blood and duty.

His blood began to boil over with a fervant energy, Sod the fires, Sod the flames he would not watch his chosen home, his chosen family, die.

And much like the motion around him prior, Samurel watched in waves as his body moved without him thinking so much about it... entering the building, calling out for his Lady, his Lord, his Friend. When no replies came, he searched further, they must be in here somewhere, some place. A burning timber as hot as the a smith's forge it felt. Taking the body of what he thought was Ben, a fallen man in noble garb and light armor, Samurel rushed out of the building... in time to see that His Lady and His Lord were safe... but who had Samurel save?

[I will gladly taken any who are left?.... who are left?]





Stage 1

[url=Will (Courage)][/url]: 3d6k3 9 [[OOC: Phew]]
[url=Endurance (Resilience)][/url]: 3d6k3+1 10 [[OOC: Once again, Phew]]

Stage 2

[url=Endurance (Resilience)][/url]: 3d6k3+1 10 +1B [url=Endurance (Resilience) Bonus Dice][/url]: 1d6 5. 5+4+3+1 = 13 [[JUST ENOUGH]]

Stage 3

[url=Awareness (Notice)][/url]: 4d6k4 14 +1 = 15

[Daveth Coldbrook]

(Just a note for anyone still to post their rolls: We are still 4 DoS short of preventing a stampede. That means 2 NPCs will be maimed/killed as things stand, of Reader's choice. Even a single DoS would prevent one of them.)

[Lady Corrine Marsten]

Ben shuffles forth from the blaze, gulping air. His vigilant eyes scan for signs of Corrine. His heart swells and stomach drops when he sees her soot covered face working amongst healers and others to direct aid.

Corrine saw Ben loping towards the improvised triage area she'd been gathering for the wounded, and ran towards him as he lowered Ser Arryk onto the ground. She flung herself into his arms;


"
Ben! Thank the Gods! I couldn't find you! I'm so glad you're safe!"

[Benedict Marsten]

Ben shuffles forth from the blaze, gulping air. His vigilant eyes scan for signs of Corrine. His heart swells and stomach drops when he sees her soot covered face working amongst healers and others to direct aid.

Corrine saw Ben loping towards the improvised triage area she'd been gathering for the wounded, and ran towards him as he lowered Ser Arryk onto the ground. She flung herself into his arms;


"
Ben! Thank the Gods! I couldn't find you! I'm so glad you're safe!"

He envelopes her in his arms, squeezing hard. Arcing his back he lifts her off her feet. Upon touching her back down he kisses the top of her head. "
My love, I should have know I would find you hard at work in the midst of this disaster."


Pulling back to look at her dirty face he can not help but smile in happiness despite the chaos.

[Lady Corrine Marsten]

He envelopes her in his arms, squeezing hard. Arcing his back he lifts her off her feet. Upon touching her back down he kisses the top of her head. "
My love, I should have know I would find you hard at work in the midst of this disaster."


Pulling back to look at her dirty face he can not help but smile in happiness despite the chaos.

"
I was just riding up when the wildfire hit. I was hoping to speak with Eoric. I helped Ser Florian get out of the inn, and there are others still trying to rescue people and fight the blaze, and catch the horses. If you're going back there, be careful. We have someone important to stay alive for."

[Reader]

[OOC: to reward people for updating the thread as requested, I'll allocate rewards/who requested who based on every post above this, locking in any successes.

To avoid punishing those who were understandably busy over thanksgiving/with school/family/work, I'll keep the broad event open to save any unclaimed NPCs/to calm horses.

In a few hours, I'll probably edit this post with one of the lists the players have updated in the OOC forum on who saved who, corrections beyond that welcome.]

[Ser Walton Dulver]

Ser Walton Dulver

Step One- [url=Endurance][/url]: 4d6 11
Edit by Reader:

[url=will][/url]: 3d6 5

[url=Endurance Step Two][/url]: 4d6 9
[url=Awareness][/url]: 3d6 10

busy lastly :/

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