The path before you opens up into a sylvan glade of breathtaking beauty. In this forest of unnatural beauty, this glade seems to be almost...painted? The browns are all of the colors are more themselves. Browns, more brown than you've ever seen.  The greens are nearly radiant.  Even the air itself seems strangely visible. As if you can see the currents in a fog, but unlike a fog you can additionally see straight through it. Birdsong always just seemed like a bunch of random tweeting, but now? Like an opera that's on the brink of moving you to tears.

Before you stand two humans—Lady Bronwyn and Baron Agwain— accompanied by a most unusual courtier: a gnome-like creature who you think is probably Delfargo. Lady Bronwyn is tall and proud, her creamy white skin is lost in a crisp white dress divided for riding that features an intertwining golden pattern around the edges.  You've seldom seen such designs, but associate them with the Moonshaes. Her lusterous dark hair is plated in braids which are then woven into a single large braid running down her back to her slim waist.  Baron Agwain is resplendent in lobstered steel plate and peers ahead with a hawk-like nose.  His right hand is on the hilt of his sheathed sword, and the other intertwined with Lady Bronwyn's.

With the aid of the Baitseller, Baron Agwain and Lady Bronwyn appear to be negotiating with the ghostly shape of a giant satyr, its feet planted and its eyes fixed firmly forward, like a sentinel. It's eyes shine with green light, and its skin gives the appearance stone carved with dim runes yet retains a supple and flexible as true skin.

Delfargo finishes a sentence "... you must take us! I've already had their coin!"

Suddenly, from over the hill come the howls of a pack of wolves. A moment later, they are revealed to be snarling goblin worg-riders, racing to attack the trio. The goblins on their backs laugh with hellish delight as they prepare to loose arrows.

Roll initiative and declare your actions.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:47, Sat 09 Apr 2022.

((ooc: How many worg-riders are there?))

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 1):

As soon as Heluvianal sees the Ghostly shape, he almost prostrates himself, remaining on his knees, then goes back onto his haunches.  It was as though he didn't see the Lady and the Baron, only one of his God like Spirits with its glowing eyes like it was alive and watching him.  He mutters a few words that only he and the forest spirits would hear

Then he notices the Lady and Baron, leaps to his feet like a squirrel hearing an enemy. Before he can say or do anything however, he hears the howls and knows that the glade is in trouble.  He prepares his bow to protect the Glade.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:57, Sat 09 Apr 2022.

5

"Goblins, on your flank!" Tolantra bellowed. Kicking her horse into motion, she surged forward. She wanted to get herself in between Branwen and the worg riders. At the same time, if possible, she wanted to give the goblins a clear shot at the baron. It was probably too much to hope that the goblins would kill him, but she was open to the simple solution if it presented itself.

((ooc: Initiative: 1d10 = 3
Move to get in front of Branwen, but leave a path open to the baron.
If the worg riders close to melee, I'll attack with my hammer. If they all stay out of range, I'll throw a hammer at the closest.
Attack: 1d20+6 = 21
Damage (bonus to damage): 1d4+11 = 15
(those numbers are for melee. If it's thrown, attack is 22 and damage is 14)))

Celadhel twisted in her saddle at Tolantra's shout. Bladesong was not particularly suited for mounted combat and for a moment she wanted to leap from her saddle and charge into the fray. But she wasn't certain how the worgs, with their faster movement, would spread themselves.

Besides, she had other ways to even the odds.

Dipping a hand into one of her pouches, she pulled a bit of sand free and tossed it into the air. Some quiet words in elven unleashed a wave of sleepiness at the goblins. She tried to center it on the ones who looked to be wanting to stay back in bowshot range.

((ooc: Initiative: 1d10 = 7
Cast sleep. Effects 4 hd of creatures.))

Round 1
The goblins begin by circling around the edge of the tree line around the clearing.  It is clear that they are talented riders, clutching javelins in their hands and laughing with wild abandon. On their shoulders they wear the jawless skulls of foes as pauldrons and black mantles of crow feathers bedeck their necks.

The Baron draws his steel and pushes Lady Bronwyn behind him to shield her as the javelins come raining in.

"Forget them!" Delfargo the Baitseller screams, "Let me through!" The Guardian Spirit must have given his assent for they both disappear into the mist and the nature of the hollow alters perceptibly to seem slightly less surreal.

Tolantra's hurled hammer  lands with a sickening crunch that causes a wave of nausea to pass over the party, even as a wave of death engulfs the recipient of the blow.

Heluvianal looses a pair of arrows. One, hastily aimed, disappears into the woods.  The other results in a plume of blood deep in the hide of a Worg. Significantly, while that arrow recently sent many a man to Myrkul's realm, the Worg barely misses a stride.

Then come the javelins. For all their skill as riders, goblins are still goblins.  Only one of the javelins comes close to landing, and it is painlessly deflected by the baron's lobstered steel plates.

Then magic fills the air.  Celadhel mutters some arcane syllables and casts a handful of sand at the attackers--two of them slump in their saddles and slide from their mounts in deep sleep.

Olaf invokes the dominion of the Earthmother over the beasts of the Earth and wrests control of the mind of one of the riderless Worg and sets it to attack the wounded member of its pack.

Edrie takes a page from Celadhel and mimics her spell causing another rider to slip from his mount.

A single rider, undamaged and unbowed seems to be reconsidering his options at the conclusion of the first exchange.

What do you do? Declare your actions and roll initiative.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 6):

Switching targets as he sees another Worg attack the one he hit, he targets the remaining Goblin still riding and looses a searing strike.

Hit Goblin still Riding, if kill on first shot, target wounded Worg with second shot.
Initiative = rolled 9 using 1d10.
Attack1: Bow = rolled 18 using 1d20+4.
Damage1: Bow = rolled 11 using 1d8+7.
Attack2: Bow = rolled 14 using 1d20+4.
Damage2: Bow = rolled 8 using 1d8+7.

Edit: +1 Attack using charted table (making it a 19 and a 15 to hit)
This message was last edited by the player at 00:37, Wed 20 Apr 2022.

Since she hadn't been able to get herself between the baron and Bronwyn, Tolantra pulled her horse up and let it come to a stop. No sense putting herself directly between the baron and the goblins. No sense getting down from the horse, either. If the baron got sufficiently distracted, she might be able to swing in and grab Bronwyn.

So instead, she grabbed the short bow that was resting it its case along the horse's flank and a pair of arrows. If the goblins were going to stand off and shoot at people, she was happy to oblige. She aimed at an unwounded worg; she hoped to get them killed before they could hurt their horses.

((ooc: Initiative: 2
2 bow attacks on an unwounded worg (DM's choice)
1d20+4 = 5
1d20+4 = 17
Damage: 1d8+5 = 13))

Celadhel took in the battle with a glance and then hesitated. Her skill was with a sword, and with magic that was swiftly depleted. There wasn't a good way for her to come to grips with the goblins, at least not without leaving herself open to being swarmed in return. So she drew her sword, moved her horse a little in front of the rest of the group, and waited.

((ooc: No action this round, unless a goblin or worg comes within attack range, in which case swing at it.))

Heluvianal ends the combat before the Goblin can decide on a course of action.  Olaf and Edrie draw knives and begin slitting the throats of slumbering goblins.  The Worgs, bey to hail the new leader of their Pack--Olaf's charmed Warg who made quick of the bloodied Long Tooth--disappear into the woods, having no inherent interests in the goings on there.  Their participation was always transactional, based on the wishes and rewards of their now dead riders.

A tense stand off descends on the glade. Weapons were drawn in common defense against a foe. Now no foes remain, but neither blade nor hammer have found their rest.

There is a wordless battle of positioning, with Tol trying to approach Lady Bronwyn and Baron Agwain Delantar, well practiced in duelling, mirrors those movements to remain between the dwarf warrior and the fair Lady.

Both Baron and Lady seem exhausted from the circumstances of the day.  It is Baron Agwain that breaks the silence. His voice is a ringing tenor, born to command.

"Well done, guardsmen.  You have protected your Lady against those that would do her harm. Your duty is discharged, and she is in our care and will remain so.  Athgard Keep is strongly fortified by my retainers and personal guards. We will commend you to our cousin, the Duke, at the next Council of Man."

He does not lower his sword nor remove his eyes from Tol's.

"No." Tolantra's voice was flat, unyielding. She kept her hand on her hammer, but didn't pull it free. "You and your men murdered Daggerford guards and fled the scene. You will return with us to town and face the Duke's justice."

He had also, of course, abducted Bronwyn. But since that lady was currently within blade length of the baron, and Tolantra didn't know whether she had been charmed or otherwise influenced, she figured it was safer to stick to the more obvious wrong-doing.

Baron Agwain begins to sputter, but Lady Bronwyn places a hand on his shoulder and speaks over him.  "You serve the Duke's justice? Good. I am the Duke's sister, Bronwyn, the Lady of Daggerford.  I have stood at court and issued the Duke's justice when he could not be bothered to decide matters himself. You wear the symbols of my house on your tabard. Do you recognize my authority?" Her eyes are calm pools.

"Methinks the lady is enspelled." Olaf grumbles. "How else should the flower of Daggerford's garden be so willingly plucked by unwashed hands and out of season?"

"That is far from clear, Olaf. Though there is something amiss here." Edrie nibbled her lower lip and pinched her chin between her thumb and forefinger.

The lithe bladesinger pushes forward, "We are known to you, Lady Bronwyn--and you to us. Baron, there are few laws of men which my father, Lord Elorfindar, gives credibility. But all the gods of elves and men recognize the demands of hospitality.  Had you been in my house as my guest, slain my guardsmen and stolen my sister, your death would be the price demanded."

She raises an immaculate eyebrow to a sharp arch, "How shall I keep faith with my father's liege lord if I fail to take the price from your flesh?"

Her blade gleams in the glade, it's edge thirsty.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:35, Thu 21 Apr 2022.

"With respect, lady, if you stand with the baron, you stand as an accomplice to the murders he committed." Tolantra shook her head. "You have no authority over us, and, like the baron, must return to Daggerford with him to face justice."

She glanced at Celadhel before returning her gaze to the two humans. "I would prefer that this be handled peacefully, with everyone returning to town. There may yet be explanations offered, blood price paid. Far better than something final happening out of sight in the woods."

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 11):

Looking down, he notices that he doesn't have a Tabard on and feels almost sad to not be included.

Lady Bronwyn he says naively Your ladyship, we were told you were kidnapped, is that not so? Heluvianal was told that they were to find and return Lady Bronwyn as she had been taken against her will, if this wasn't the case, he was going to get a little confused.

The Lady sighs heavily, "The first I heard of a kidnapping was when those long shoremen started shouting it at us and shooting at us with crossbows. No I am not kidnapped!"

Everyone please make a Wisdom check.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 17):

Heluvianal is certain that the Lady Bronwyn speaks true as he expected she would.

(ooc:  Failed by 6 but he'd believe her anyway as he had no reason not to)

((ooc: 8. Succeeded by 9.))

The check was to remember something, but if you want to interpret it this way, that's fine.



You recall that the Daggerford Guardsmen were shot with crossbow bolts and small blades like knives.  Some of the bodies still bristled with them, and there were several collected near the corpses.  In contrast, the Baron's men you just fought were armed with short bows and longswords.

It would be a strange thing to be armed with long swords but to choose to fight trained guardsmen with knives.  And where did the crossbows come from?

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 20):

(ooc: Oh, I remember bringing this up at the time. Sorry, tired and still got a bit of COVID brain.)

"Then we all need to return to Daggerford as quickly as we may, for your brother is certain that you were kidnapped, and is reacting accordingly. And it will need to be you; if we showed up and tried to tell him that actually you weren't kidnapped, we would be accused of being bought off by the baron, and disregarded. It will need to be you."

She paused, considering. "There's also an issue with the weapons, now that I think about it. The Daggerford guards were killed with crossbows. And you said you were shot at with them as well, so I assume the baron's men don't use them. Someone might be trying to start a war. Or at least a feud. We should all return at once."

The Lady sneers, "Just because I am not kidnapped doesn't mean that I'm not trying to escape my brother.  Baron Agwain and I have been in correspondence for some time, and he has asked for my hand.  I have given it, as is my right, but my brother forbids me! Will you return me to my oppressor so my future can be decided at his whim?"

Baron Agwain, adds, "It is true.  An Abbot awaits at my keep to perform the ceremony, but we are promised to each other.  I cannot let you take my bride, and I will not be delivered to her capricious brother!"

From all reports, the Duke of Daggerford is a young man that remains aloof from the affairs of state.  Like a lord from an older time, he practices the arts of chivalry, hunts boar, but mostly keeps his own counsel.  You don't know the Duke, but this doesn't match what you've heard of his character.  Caprice presupposes a vivacity of spirit that the Duke has seldom displayed.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:48, Fri 29 Apr 2022.

Celadhel looks with derision on the couple, "Then you're nobles of the worst sort.  We are not afforded the same comforts and freedom of the small folk.  If you accept the privilege, you must also accept the obligations. Your womb is not your own, and your heart is for the people not for yourself. High marriages are made with minds, not with hearts.  Save your love for your paramours, and leave this selfish pride behind you. Remember yourself, and come with us Bronwyn."

"It is true, my lady.  No priest may wed a bride that is not lawfully given. Nor may blessing be bestowed on a union made in secret. For everything thing there is a season, and for each seed there is a place. It is the Duke that must set the purpose for your field, so that the harvest may bless the land and those that inhabit it.  Return with us, noble lady."

Then what Celadhel said processes in his brain.

"Paramours? My lady!"

If he had pearls, he'd be clutching them.

The normally quiet Edrie boils over, "What are you saying?!? She's a woman! A free woman!  She's chosen her man!  Good on you, sister! Walk your own road."

Tolantra rolled her eyes. "You are not just a woman. You are a noble, and what you do has larger implications than if you were not. If it were one of us, or one of the guards who were killed today because of you, sure. I would turn my head and let you go. But you bring war to the people of this region. The people you are supposed to lead and protect. Would you see your love's lands destroyed? Because that is what is coming for you if you persist in this course. Turn around, and let's solve this problem like adults."

Heluvianal was confused, the lady was a High Born, true, she was also not a young Maiden. Would this mean she could hold her own counsel and what did those big words mean?

I don't get it. Why would your brother order hired thugs to attack you and his own guards, what could he gain from such a war when Daggerford has all it needs and more by the looks of the derelict areas.

Why can't Lady Bronwyn marry who she chooses?  The Forest Spirit clearly approves the union, which is, I guess, the most important thing, a God had blessed this union.

"That's the problem of being a noble," Tolantra said with a shrug. "They're not as free as you or me. But you're right about the strangeness of the attack. It's out of character for the Duke, and if the baron didn't order it, then there has to be a third player. A third player who wants conflict between Daggerford and the eastern baronies."

In reply to Tol (msg # 29):

So really, this union would make the connection stronger, not weaker like what has been said.

I'll ask the Forest. with that, he leaps into a tree and disappear for a few moments.

Heluvianal no sooner leaves view than he is surrounded by his kin and their grave king, Melandrach.

The wild elves of Laughing Hollow are tawny skinned with limbs tightly corded with muscle.  Their limbs are extensively tattooed and their hairline is shaved back almost to the crown of their head, making a vertical line from ear to ear.  From their hair dangle feathers and beads, their arrangement and number telling something of their wearers.  Men and women alike are barely clothed and their feet are bare.  Bows reinforced with horn, strings of sinew, flint headed arrows, and fire hardened javelins are their armaments.

Melandrach, his face lined by long eons, his eyes filled with starry nights. His voice  is the sound of leaves in the wind and a snake slithering over dead leaves.

"We wondered when you would join us. The lands of men have dulled either your ears or your sense of respect. Boots on feet and coins in pouches dull ears and minds alike."  He squats on the balls of his feet, his hind end as low as his heels. This is a common posture for taking ones ease here. "What trouble have you brought us from your city? Why does the iron man trouble the forest spirits? Why does his woman love him with hatred?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:33, Sat 30 Apr 2022.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 31):

Bowing deep to his kin, he knew they would be around or at least hoped this was the case. He felt chided even though he had returned the king and had been to the City often with his parents as a youngling. It mattered not because the king was right.

Neither be true, when I learnt that these would be heading this way, I chased after them with these people. One of the Wood Spirits brought them and the iron man, the Baron of lands not far from here, spoke with the Wood Spirit but I know not what of, he seemed placated.

He stands as tall as he could, his magical bow in his hand, his other, it's fist at his chest, My King, You sense the hearts of man, have they He gestures to Lady Bronwyn and the Baron spoken true? Yes these clothes restrict and the things we carry hide the sounds we should listen to. The iron man claims the lady as his and they both say she goes freely. Could the hatred you speak of be for her brother and not this man?

They are not here to interfere with the Forest. What would you have me do My King?I said that I would ask the Forest for the truth as I knew our people would be around and I ask it now.

Heluvianal would, at the behest of his king and the people, do almost anything, almost because he wouldn't harm the forest of the goodly denizens living there.

Melandrach raises his hand to forestall Heluvianal.

"Be at ease, Heluvianal Oakseeker. You have chosen to walk in two worlds.  There are two spirits in you. You walk among men, but you will always walk among us. Their book-magic fills your mind, but our stories must fill your heart. It is difficult to walk two trails at once, but this is your path."

Melandrach nods gravely.  "The children of the river in their den of stone seldom trouble us except in great need. Then the spirits of the forest take advantage of their avarice and greed and bind them tightly while they seem to give what they seek. They are a people that cannot know their own heart."

"But even among us a woman may take a man to spite another--a father, or a brother. As you say. Among our campfires a woman who has so betrayed herself can easily turn about and set aside a man. The children of the river do not so easily lay aside their burdens or right their ways. And with so few winters allotted to them, how can they? Our father loves his children and gives them long lives to learn of love and folly."

"The wise would wait until the fires in their breasts burn low and they learn what wood it is made of: quick burning pine, or long burning oak. She should return to her brother and make peace with him. The milk of their mother should not be spoiled in their bellies. If the iron man wants this woman, let him give the brother a gift so that he will be happy to see them joined. But with iron in hand, he will steal the lives of both. Then at the wedding, let all sit before the fire and pass between them a pipe, and let the smoke carry the cares of the past above the stars."

"They will not remain, though they would learn much if they did. They will not listen to the words of men that love life more than coin and stone. We seem as fools to them. You will be a fool to them if you give them my words. I think it will not be long before their people are swept away by storm and tide. They will not remain as we have remained."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 02:49, Tue 10 May 2022.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 33):

He listens and understands some parts more than others So you feel that the lady is agreeing to this marriage out of spite but for the right reasons?  Once confirmation is given either way, Heluvianal says a prayer to the Tree Spirits and gives his heart felt thanks to the King. I shall counsel the iron man to offer a gift, not to buy the lady but to make good a peace that is within him.  I shall counsel the lady that her brother means well and can somehow be calmed as the heat in her body calms, so her thoughts and her feelings are one without gaining regret in the future.  That all can be made amicable and still have the marriage happen but when it should without rush, like waiting for the kindling to burn away so the slow burning log can keep them warm instead of the kindling burning too fast and not allowing the log to catch.

This I shall do.  With that, he bows and returns to the others.

Reappearing from the Forest like a leaf falling from a tree out of nowhere, I have spoken with my breathren, my king and the spirits, they have seen into your hearts and your desires.  They feel, Baron, that you want the Lady as your partner but a gift to her blood should be made, not as payment for in thanks.  Lady, your hurt with your brother or your father is strong but you can not take this into a union with the Baron or it will wane and bitterness ensue, a peace in your heart and mind is required, then you will be free to make this choice if you choose to so made it.

Do not be the kindling in the fire without the log to catch fire, be the log that uses the kindling to start the warmth and keep it going.  The kindling is a secure base, without it the logs sit there and go cold.

To him it is clear, he is not sure if they understand though he feels they should.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:30, Mon 23 May 2022.

With everyone in the party but Edrie united in the opinion that the pair ought to return--and them being so clearly outmatched, Lady Bronwyn quickly agrees to return to Daggerford.

There is more hesitation on the part of Lord Agwain Delantar.  He despairs of the idea of navigating the Laughing Hollow on his own, but insists on keeping his arms as he accompanies you all back to Daggerford.

How do you proceed?

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 35):

Heluvianal asks that whilst in the Laughing Hollow, that weapons be put away We are all protected, the Goblins got through because of the danger you were imposing, all is good now, my people  watch

Naive as he was, he was certain of this which he spoke.

Tolantra nodded. "It's always nice to have witnesses. And if this truly is a misunderstanding, then fleeing to your barony gives the duke the wrong impression. The best and cleanest option is to come back with us. Let everyone put all our cards on the table, and see if together we can't solve this mystery."

In reply to Tol (msg # 37):

I shall remain as I am until we are clear of the Forest, then I shall return to mouse form if that is ok with you Tolantra, walking and riding dependent on mounts.

Mouse form? At this point, Tolantra didn't want to know. She was focused on the baron. "Sure. Whatever you're comfortable with."

Edrie rolls her eyes and mutters to herself about a "free society."

"It is good that you have remembered your honor.  We shall guarantee your safe conduct."

The Bladesinger had was a free spirit, but seemed to have a distinctive sort of wild honor that she would not compromise.  "The Lady may ride my mount."

"Celadhel has the right of it.  It's not for common herd to in the barn while the stud pulls a plow."  He brings his horse up to the Baron and smiles in his simple way and helps him up. "That's right milord, easy does it."

Celadhel, Lady Bronwyn, and Baron Agwain all look at each other, then again at Olaf, then each other again.  The problem was clear--priests possess a similar status to nobility, but the Chauntean's agricultural metaphors were beginning to display a certain coarseness that ruffled their feathers.

The ride back to Daggerford is slower than the frantic pace set during the night.  Folk are weary of travel, battle, danger, and the fantastic.  The road--more a trail--follow right along the sparkling waters of the River Delimbyr with its ripples and rills lapping and laughing on the stones.

It is then that you realize that it isn't merely metaphorical laughing--but actual giggling that you hear somewhere down in the tall grasses and reeds along the bank.

What do you do?

Tolantra glanced at Heluvianal. "This is your turf, and I'm something of a blunt instrument. Do you want to check that out? We'll cover you."

In reply to Tol (msg # 45):

As Heluvianal was in mouse form riding on the front of the front saddle by now, not having a care in the world and enjoying recounting to himself in squeaks how he had met a God and his Kin and his People all at the same time and how he was very grateful for the Baron and the Lady for leading them back to his home.

He was jerked out of his reverie when he heard Tol's words and so he jumped off the horse towards the river and seemed to appear out of the air as he enlarged back to his normal height, looking at the reeds for movement.  He then rolled as he landed and walked nonchalantly towards the water in a non-threatening way.

Speaking in his native Fae tongue reyhg graghyu ewsoifh, wetrgjghr dsjgf rgerg?

Heluvianal moves closer to the giggling sound which draws him closer to the rippling water's edge.  Here the roots of the trees are constantly fed by the clear deep waters of the River Delimbyr, and their branches extends tens of feet out over the water leaving portions of the river perpetually shaded.

The giggling seems to come from a rocky area where the current of the river backwashes and circles in on itself. Closer now, Heluvianal can hear that the giggling is interspersed with surprised gasps, and soft feminine moans.

When you finally achieve the proper vantage to ask your question, you see a pair of what appear to be female elves. Their skin is a sort of sage green and delicate membranes join their fingers together. Their hair is a lustrous deep forest green.  The water sparkles like laughter on their nude skin and delight forms their lips into bright and playful smiles.

You watch unnoticed as splash playfully and their dextrous fingers titillate one another.

Your introduction interrupts them just as one had started to nibble at the nape of the other.

"Meerseta. Qweta Yet deeply Fren Uise cup Fren Treui. Qui Zu nijo?"


How closely are the rest of you covering Heluvianal?
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:45, Sat 28 May 2022.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 47):

They looked more like Nymphs than Wild Elves, so he waved to the others in a cautious beckoning.

SRetiss,qui Zu nijo ee? Ginbr, use treui.
Sisters, will you join me? Bring life drink.

He cautiously moves closer, keeping in view of the others.

Tolantra kept back, watching Helu carefully as he made his way forward. She couldn't see who he was talking to, but when he waved her forward she slowly began to advance.

Tolantra and the remainder of the party wait about thirty feet back, but crane their necks to get a look at who Heluvianal is speaking to. At his beckoning, they draw closer. The language eludes them all, but the sounds of their melodious voices are enchanting. The languid bodies glisten with promise in the rippling waters.

"Dyn gwirion, ni allwn adael y dyfroedd. Mae bywyd yn y dyfroedd. Bywyd melys. Ymunwch â ni. Gallwn wneud eich bywyd yn felys hefyd. Os na wnewch chi, efallai y bydd un arall yn yfed o'n cwpan ni?"


Two more sage-green faces emerge from the waters.  One licks her lips, and the other tosses her hair so that water droplets sparkle in the air.

Olaf turns bright red, but his eyes are fixed intently on them.  His jaw works silently, for once lacking pastoral observations.

Celadhel raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "I wasn't aware that our seaborne cousins were so... ahem... passionate."

Edrie can't seem to figure out where to put her eyes, or her hands. Every time she thinks of her hands she thinks of where their hands are and what they are doing with them.

"Are we interrupting? Well, I suppose they're not nymphs. None of us are blinded or dead. Not dead."

Her cheeks seem to flush, but it seems a very different sort of coloration than Olaf's.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:19, Thu 09 June 2022.

Tolantra chuckled. "A pleasure to meet you, ladies." She bowed. "They did not speak of ones such as you back home under ground. But the day grows short and we have a long way to go, so with your blessings we shall depart."

She didn't particularly like the water, especially when she was wearing heavy armor. And while as a priestess of Haela she was sworn to fight monsters these ladies didn't seem to be any threat to anyone who didn't blunder into them. So she figured it was time for them to blunder away.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 50):

He focused on their green skin and the reflections on the water, he held himself enough to not blush until he looked back and saw Edrie all flustered, this brought home to him his cousins state of undress and the discomfort his friends were displaying.

cymaint ag y mae'n swnio'n syniad braf o fywyd, nid fy mywyd i ydyw. Diolch i chi ferched, byddwn yn parhau ymlaen. Mae goblins o gwmpas, byddwch yn ymwybodol.

A oes unrhyw un arall rhyfedd sy'n mynd heibio wedi bod yn agos yn ddiweddar?


He waved the other on before the succumbed to the luscious beauties in the waters.

Bronwyn's eyes go wide--but not in the same sort of moral shock as the rest--"Nixies!  Close your eyes!"

Olaf is struck by the beauty of the Nixies and begins walking--shuffling really--forward.  He begins pulling at the straps of his armor as if trying to disrobe. "The Cup of Life."

Bronwyn rolls her eyes and warns, "No harm really will come to him, but if you let him go you won't see him again for a year.  There are social consequences to that kind of behavior."

Baron Agwain laughs with a rich baritone. "What will they do with him?"

"Not what he hopes," Bronwyn continues. "But he's under their spell now--he'll have to be physically restrained."

"Oh, no you don't," Tolantra told Olaf as she went trotting after him. "You're needed here." Needed to provide the group a visible cleric, and her better camouflage. Getting in front of him, she tried to pick Olaf up and carry him away from the nixies. If she could get him to his horse, she could tie him to his saddle.

((ooc: Not sure how you want to handle this; what should I roll?))

In reply to Tol (msg # 59):

Sisters, it is no time to mess with our troupe, the Lord of the Forest has given me leave to take these to the city, ALL of them. Would you go against his will too?

STOP this  He didn't know where his voice came but came it did.  With such command that only magical words would out match it.  He almost blushed but knew his cause and raised his bow to emphasis his meaning.

2E rules are fairly hazy on grappling.  If you have multiple people that are trying to restrain him--you can.  If you want to deal subdual damage to knock him out, you can.  So far, only you are restraining him. As long as its just you, he'll make gradual progress towards the river because he's fighting quite a bit harder than you.  That's several rounds away though.

"Mae'n dymuno cwpan y bywyd, frawd. Onid yw efe yn haeddu ein pleserau ? Nid ydym yn gorfodi, dim ond gwahodd!" the Nixies respond in seductive voices.


Tol begins struggling to restrain, the weaker but much larger Olaf. Who howls in protest.

"Sorry is the man that will see a field ready for plowing and turn aside from the labor! Sorrier is the man that will entice him from his labor! They call me Tol! They call and I must answer!" The priests limbs are energized by his vast desire, and he drags your tangle ten feet closer to the riverbank and the pleasures that entice him.  He is so taken that he does not really consciously contest you--he only tries to get closer to the river's edge.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:59, Thu 16 June 2022.

"What's a year? We'll be rid of his sermons and demeaning metaphors for a short four seasons, and he may come back with a more interesting perspective."  Her laughter tinkles like the rippling of the water.

Edrie runs up to where Tol and Olaf are entangled, "This plowhand has saved me more than once. I won't let him drown. How do I help, Tol?"  The wizardess seems at a loss for what to do.

Lady Bronwyn hurries to where Edrie is.  "He is my liegeman, and he is caught in their charm.  It may still be broken if we act within the day.  If it settles in, his mind will be caught for a year." She bends down and grabs a boot, "Help woman! I'll not let his allegiance be adulterated."

Baron Agwain callously observes, "A proper lord would have brought these chaotic elements to heel.  The man is caught in peril his lord allowed to flourish.  Perhaps his ensnarement will teach our Lord the Duke."

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 62):

Hearing the kafuffle behind his, turning slightly enough to see people holding Olaf back, he relaxes his bow string.  Once more speaking in the common tongue You must stop your enchantments sisters, I do not wish to harm you but I shall leave you now, may your time be full of frolicking and love.  He isn't sure he knows what Frolicking means but he'd heard people say if before of people in the water.

And with that, he Fog Cloud to hide the Nixies from everyone, centring on the water so that it covers all to the edge of the banking then goes, turns and walks to the struggling companions holding Olaf.  He  knows that someone walking can still gain purchase to the land and move forward even if people are holding them, so he moves over and picks Olaf up off the floor by the back of his armour, utilising the other's grappling as an aid for him to gain purchase.

Would you like a Strength Check to lift Olaf off the ground with one arm or will it require two?  Heluvianal doesn't want Olaf to stop his walking, only his ability to direct it so they can move away from the riverside.  Olaf, friend, be at peace, my sisters will move on.  He couldn't in all consciousness hurt his sisters but he would have done if the spell and his strength were not enough.

Between Heluvianal and Tol's gargantuan strengths, Olaf cannot long resist the party and he takes his place in the line.  He clearly looks grudging and calculating as he takes his place among his comrades.

The Nixies are clearly vexed by Heluvianal's intervention, and the rest of them--there's ten in all!--make a number of rude gestures as the party departs.

Lady Bronwyn advises Tol privately, "Do not be fooled.  He is under their magic.  He will bide his time and then try to escape to them.  Only a dispelling of the magic will rid him of their influence. And then, only if we can enact the dispelling within 24 hours of the casting."

"Our court magician is from the Moonshaes where such creatures are more commonplace.  He has versed me thoroughly in our lessons."

What do you do?

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 68):

Once Olaf was back with the group, Heluvianal helped frog-march him on their way back, he knew the magic was strong and was surprised that a Dwarf would succumb where a Human didn't!

Once all were back on horseback that could be, the man of the wild woods tired Olaf to the saddle of a horse...'to make sure he didn't fall off in his confused state'.  Then turned into a mouse and watched him from the horses mane.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:59, Tue 28 June 2022.

"If we can get you back to your books in time, can you break the enchantment?" Tolantra asked Branwen quietly as she watched Heluvianal tie Olaf onto his horse. "Olaf and Edie are our most powerful casters, but I believe such magic is beyond them. Even if Olaf was in a position to cast on himself."

Bronwyn brushes her hair behind an ear and replies, "Gwydion could, or Delfen Yellowknife.  Its mostly a matter of whether or not they have it prepared today, of course. Or if there's a scroll."

Hearing his master's name had the Wood Elf's ears prick up even higher than normal.  He had half heard what was being said but put it together quickly.  I could always ask him.  If he can get it prepared before this time tomorrow, that would suffice, yes?  This was well beyond him and that was only useful if Master Yellowknife even knew the spell.  He surmised he must do living in a city that was probably half diseased anyway, not like living in the forest.... He gazes back to the forest and his kin then remembers what was said to him, he was half-way between worlds.

Bronywn nods, "Yes.  We don't have to rush terribly, but we must move purposefully."

Tolantra nodded and climbed back up onto her horse. "Then let's get moving. Olaf has been a good militiaman; I doubt Daggerford would want to lose him for a year."

((ooc: Heading out. Purposefully, as Bronwyn says.))

Uktar 9, 1357

The party returns to the road as the autumnal sun shines down weakly overhead.  What had escaped your attention in the night is the beauty of the changing leaves all around.  There have been several miserable and rainy days you've travelled together, but this one while personally exhausting is pleasant nonetheless.

Ahead in the distance you hear a strange disturbance.  It's really like nothing you've heard before.  Deep roars of--panic?

As you draw nearer the commotion is revealed.  Four bears have pushed over a dead tree, and it has shattered across the road.  From its middle spills forth golden honey and a sturdy honey comb. (Make a wisdom check)  Two of the bears are busily feasting on the honey while the other two are being driven away by a swarm of bees.

What do you do?

((ooc: Wisdom check: 1d20 = 8 Success.))

Tolantra held up a hand, halting everyone. She waved backward, and gestured for them to give the bears space. She had no quarrel with them, and she would really rather not have the chaos of combat break out right now, when she didn't know how Olaf would react, and didn't trust the baron not to flee, or stab them in the back.

((ooc: Unless the wisdom check reveals something very surprising, Tolantra is going to try to avoid combat.))

As the backed away, Tolantra edged over to Heluvianal. "There's a hand sticking out of the tree," she murmured. "Keep note of where we are. Once we've gotten Bronwyn back, we should return and see what the bees are hiding." Then she drifted over to Celadhel and said the same thing.

In reply to Tol (msg # 76):

As the bears were seen, Heluvianal left off the horse in mouse form and changed into his normal self. It may have been why he missed the arm.

Leave this to me Tol.

Heluvianal had met many forest creatures and never had one that was indifferent leave his company anything but friends.  It seemed to be the way with his people, so now he felt he should do the same, not to take the honey but to encourage the bears to be non-hostil towards the group he was in and to get a closer look at the arm.  He may even break off some of the honey comb and give it to each of the bears if he is able.

The Wood Elf walked with a natural, unthreatening, even friendly pace towards the bears, greeting them like old friends and tries to help them get some honey comb.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:43, Tue 05 July 2022.

In a better world with more enlightened bears Heluvianal's assumption that the bears bore no ill will toward the party may have been correct.  Apparently, however, between being deprived of their honey and stung repeatedly these bears are angry at the world.

As Heluvianal gets within range of the bears tussling with the bee swarm, they lash out at him--though only one claw connects for 4 points of damage.

Roll initiative.

Tolantra watched Helu walk towards the bears, uncertain whether the elf was a genius or a madman. While she didn't want to watch a man be mauled to death in front of her, she did feel at least a little vindicated when the bears turned on him.

Not wanting to turn her back on the Baron, and uncertain how Olaf was going to react, Tolantra grabbed one of her throwing hammers from her saddle and lobbed it at the closest bear. Her split attention wasn't doing great things with her aim.

((ooc: Initiative: 4
Attack: 14 total (I forgot to add the kit's +2 bonus to hit on the roll)
Damage: 11 (I assume bears are Large creatures?)))

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 79):

Eeeeppp!!!!  He was lost for words, this didn't usually happen to him, not the loss of words but bears turning, maybe it was because of the distance from the woods but.. Stay Back All, I'm going to Change  It wasn't the bears fault that he was over confident in this instance, maybe if they'd left it a little longer!

He then casts Wall of Fog around the Bears so the group could get passed then puts his Mouse Ring on his finger.

(ooc:  Initiative = 7)

The party springs into action quickly.  Celadhel strikes out first with a magic missile sending a pair of magic darts into the hides of one of the raging bears.  Shortly thereafter Tol follows up with a thrown hammer on the other.

Heluvianal's Wall of Fog serves to confuse the bears and bees alike.  The two hostile bears having been stung, struck, burned, and blinded by fog flee the combat, but the other two seem to have fallen for Heluvianal's charms and merrily munch on their honey (they will not prove a danger to the party--well done).  The bees are disoriented by the fog, and the swarm is dispelled as they flee for cover. (I looked this up--this is a real thing. https://richmondsfblog.com/201...ekeeping-in-the-fog/)

Edrie places a watchful eye on Olaf, and her mistrustful nature is rewarded when she catches Olaf straining against his bonds in an attempt to take advantage of the confusion.

Baron Agwain and Lady Bronwyn maintain a defensive posture.

At the end of the first round, there are no threats present.  What do you do?

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 82):

Seeing that the plan worked and it was safe once more, Heluvianal changes back to being himself and walks out of the cloud, giving soothing words to the bears.

He looks inside the log.

"It's all OK, these two are not interested in anyone, just move passed as I check the arm."

He was so proud of his achievement and thanked the mouse Mage who made his ring, he then check the bears, then the arm/body in the log.

Tolantra hopped down from her horse and trotted forward to retrieve her hammer. She kept well to the side of the bears and retreated to her horse as soon as she was rearmed. She also kept a close eye on Helu; ready to come to his aid if the bears changed their minds. Once back on her horse, she nudged the group into motion, getting folks around the bears as Helu suggested, so that they could get under way once he was able to determine what was in the tree.

Within the hollow of the rotted trunk a corpse is encased in honey comb, but little can be learned from the hand.

Gingerly peeling away the comb it becomes clear that this is the body of a dwarf warrior. The body has been here a long time, but the honey has had a dramatic preservative effect. Over his hauberk is rusty chain mail, a cloak of elven make, a coin purse, and a battle axe.  Both the axe and the cloak have resisted any form of corrosion.

It's possible that the pattern of the cloak or the maker's mark on the axe could be used to identify their origin.

Does anyone have a proficiency relevant to investigate these items?

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 85):

Wood Elf meets Honey Comb meets Bear.  Haluvianal passes some of the honey combs to the bears to ear and throws a few bits out not far from the trunk in the directions the other two bears were in case of their return. He then pulls the body and the axe out of the trunk, taking some of the honey to eat as he looks over the warrior.  Calling over It's a Dwarven Warrior by the looks of him, Elven made Cloak and Axe have resisted corrosion but that could have been the preservation effects of the honey.  What do you want to do with him, wrap in cloak and take back?  This honey may help those whom were wounded too in that fight.

He wasn't sure if his abilities with herbalism and being wary would help identify equipment or the body but he sure knew that this Dwarf didn't put himself in that tree trunk.

There is no way he put himself in the tree trunk and he looks like he may have been important

Somehow the pouch ended up in his hand as he took a bit of honey comb off of it and felt the weight.  He may have been a distance away from the group but that didn't mean he would pocket a pouch from a dead person for his own gains.

The bears and bees driven off, Tolantra swung down from her horse and approached the dwarven corpse. Going down to one knee, she took in the dwarf's condition and gear as she murmured a prayer of remembrance to Dumathoin, and then added a second to Haela for good measure.

"We'll bring him with us back to Daggerford. He deserves to lie in stone among friends, even if we can't send him back to his home. The dwarves of Daggerford will know of a place he can rest." Wrapping the cloak tighter around the fallen warrior, she added quietly, "He can ride with me."

((ooc: I have both Ancient History (Dwarven) and Weaponsmithing which might be useful ID'ing the dwarf and his gear. Both scores are the same (15) and I rolled a 1, so I succeeded easily.))

Heluvianal pockets the coin pouch unseen just before Tolantra gets there.

Tol seems to have just the knowledge and skills necessary to tease out some tantalizing hints.  Though her education occurred in the South, the stories of the tragic Northern kingdoms are well known in the South.

((Rolling a 1 on this check, I'm inclined to give you as much information as you want--and yet--these history proficiencies are supposed to be regionally or racially focused.  I have enough info to make you a PhD in the region, but I'm going to give you something brief unless you choose to focus in Ancient History (Dwarf) or Ancient History (The North) ))

Finding a dwarf warrior in an elven cloak seems--likely a cloak of elvenkind, by the preservation--utterly stupefying.  The only thing that seems to make sense is the 100 year participation of the dwarf hold of Dardath in an expirment called Phalorm, or the Kingdom of Three Crowns. At the Council of Axe and Arrow, the moon elves of Ardeep, the shield dwarves of Dardath, the rock gnomes of Dolblunde, the lightfoot halflings of Athwater Vale, and the humans of Delimbiyran agreed to unite.  Their kingdom was eventually washed away under endless waves of goblin kind. Phalorm was founded some 400 years before the founding of Daggerford.

The axe bears the marks of the Ironstar clan--the legendary Ironstars who ruled the Ironstar Realm, innovated Darksteel, and learned to imbue weapons with magic.  The refugees of that fallen realm became entwined with the royal lineages of many surrounding dwarfholds--Dardath one of them.

What doesn't add up is the age of the body.  The process of mellification has preserved it well--that's true--but there's no way that this body could be 500 years old!

Tolantra gave a silent whistle as she pierced things together, and at the questions that the corpse still presented. She didn't tell any of the others; she doubted whether any of them, with the possible exception of Celadhel, would be interested. But now she was doubly determined to bring this dwarf back to Daggerford.

((ooc: Not going to loot the body or anything. I want to cast detect magic, but I don't have it memorized today, so that'll have to wait for tomorrow. Heading back to town.))