Vorel had been wandering this road for a few days now, her feet seeking the compacted and rutted earth that marked the path. She'd been but a few weeks away from her family, and the experience had been both wondrous and frightening.

The days were, as always, cold - it was the season - and the air crisp, clean, and still. Despite lacking the shelter of the cave, she didn't suffer too much with the chill; this was probably an effect of her bloodline, whatever that was.

The road slipped by under her feet, and those she passed did not speak to her, giving the journey a sense of tedium.

The weight of the air putting the day at around mid-afternoon, something struck Vorel as being out of place. Checking carefully, she realised there was a scent in the air beyond the mud of the road and the musk of passing travellers. Nor was it the ever-present gently sweet scent of the natural surroundings - this was woodsmoke, drifting from somewhere off the road.

This was unusual. In her (admittedly limited) experience, travellers wouldn't set up camp by a road, not when there were villages plentiful along the route. Nor was this the time for a simple stop, and there was no smell of cooking in the breeze.

Considering that she had nowhere she was actually going, Vorel decided to step out into the woods and "see" what the reason behind the strange campsite was. When she got close enough through the earth that she was at the edge of the site, she called out, "I khail the kempsite! You need khelp, yess? Hwhy sset up so ssoon you are?"
This message was last edited by the player at 23:29, Fri 11 June 2010.

"Oh! Hello there, young lady" called a slightly startled voice; male, probably human by the height and tones, and around middle-age perhaps, though that was hard to tell.

This close, Vorel could tell the man was alone. As he spoke she heard him fiddling with something that sounded metallic.

"There's only me, you know. No, no, not early at all, not for my task. Why don't you come closer and I'll show you - though I'm not sure you'd be interested!" The fellow's tone was light and friendly as he made his invitation.

"You showing me your tesk fruitless would be: I am in that regard limited," Vorel answered, returning the man's friendliness and waving in front of her own face to make her point. Sstill, I would love about your task to khear. Hwhy does et need your kemp sset up early?
This message was last edited by the player at 23:28, Fri 11 June 2010.

"Oh my! You're...blind? Then how did you find me? Not that I'm trying to hide, you understand."

Now the fellow seemed to be putting an object into a small case, of leather or wood, which he shut with a click.

"I'm an astronomer. You know what that is? I study the stars. This hill we're on - tonight it will afford me a goodly view of the heavens."

"Mind you, it's not the best place, but it's as good as I'm going to get - blasted gnats. Come, share my fire for a while? I'm curious as to what a young lady like you is doing wandering this road when you should be at home, looked after by your family!"

"Phire gave you away; I ssmell et kould," Vorel explained, taking a seat on the ground. The soles of her feet were black with travel, and she avoided the man's gaze as she was taught. "You khope from ze sstars to learn hwat, pray tell?" she asked.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:31, Fri 11 June 2010.

"Mm, the fire, of course. Should I be more careful, do you think? I don't think there's much threat of...bad men, in these parts, but I admit I'm not the best judge."

The man sat down opposite Vorel, adjusting his robes with the rustling of cloth.

"Well, it's not from the stars I hope to learn. I want to learn about the stars. Some say they are the eyes of dead heros, watching over us. Some say they are the torches burning in the halls of the gods. Some say they are the fireflies of the Gardens. I don't know, but regardless, there are patterns there, and the closer I look, the closer I feel to...something."

"That probably makes no sense" he chuckled amicably.

"Anyway, it's by-the-by. This site is not ideal, and I can't get up to the hilltop I really need to be on. It's covered in blasted midges - I can't concentrate up there, with them stinging!"

A swirling sound, and the man offered Vorel some liquid from a flask.

"Whiskey?"

"I em az well niw around thiss kountry," Vorel admitted, "But iss better to be kareful these dayss."

She reached out for the man to place the flask in her hand, not wanting to reveal the full extent of her senses. "Hwat is thiss 'hwiskey?'" she asked.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:32, Fri 11 June 2010.

"What's whiskey?!" the fellow asked in surprise.

"Well it's...an alcoholic spirit drink. But that only tells you how it's defined. What it is, you can only experience!"

The flask was cool and metallic in Vorel's hand as she took it from the man.

"I hope you don't mind my asking, but you don't need to tell me you're not from around here. Your accent is nothing I've heard before. Where do you come from?"

Another of her tribe's teachings rose quick and true in Vorel's mind.

"I kome from dewn ze road ant far aweigh," she recited. "I'm a travelér adventure seeking."

Attempting to temper the awkwardness of it all, she gulped the drink down, wondering what "alka-hall-lick" meant and why spirits would need drinks anyway. She coughed and sputtered. "Augh-ft! Even spiritss want to drink thiss not would!"
This message was last edited by the player at 23:34, Fri 11 June 2010.

"You're seeking adventure?" the fellow asked. "Rather you than me! Perhaps..." he broke off as if considering something.

"But you say you aren't from far away! Your accent though - it is not local, not at all. I don't mean to pry, of course - I'll ask no more if you want to tell no more."

He chuckled softly as Vorel floundered with the whiskey. "Sorry, sorry - you should drink only a little at a time of the whiskey. Too much and you're right, even spirits themselves wouldn't cope!"

The crackle of the campfire filled the air a moment as the man paused.

"My name's Owain. How shall I call you?"

"No, I ssaid from far away I am," the half-elf corrected the man. "Ssecretive iz my tribe about their place," she elaborated.

Upon his introduction, she replied, "Vorel. My name Vorel iz."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:36, Fri 11 June 2010.

The pair spent half an hour chatting pleasantly about this and that. Owain didn't ask any further about Vorel's past, nor how she seemed so confident despite her disability.

Before long, Owain paused in his conversation.

"It'll not be long before night comes upon us. I...have something to ask you, if I may?"

"If this seems too forward, do please say so - only you mentioned seeking adventure. Well, I'm not sure if I'd class it as adventure, but there's something you could do for me."

"That hill up there" Owain seemed to gesture, before realising Vorel couldn't see. "Erm, the next hill to the north, I think it is, is where I'd rather be. It's a much better view. However, it's covered in biting gnats! I can't concentrate enough to set up my telescope, never mind actually use it."

"There's a salve I can make to protect me and keep the gnats away, but I need some Urmira flowers from the woods below us. I happen to know those woods aren't safe for an old-ish man like me. There's nothing too bad in there as far as I know, but I can't take the risk. You seem young and healthy - would you perhaps do me this favour? It shouldn't take you long, maybe a couple of hours."

"Hwat do the flowers ssound like?" Vorel asked. "I am hwilling to try to find zem, but easy it won't be."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:37, Fri 11 June 2010.

"Sound like?" Owain sounded a little surprised. "Well, er... I don't know, I'm sorry. But they have a sweet smell. The leaves are pointed with two tips, perhaps as long as your thumb. There are five petals on each flower, and the petals are soft underneath."

"The real test of course, is getting stung by something like a wasp - if you rub the petals on the sting, it should help against the pain."

"Yes," Vorel said finally after mulling this information over. Owain had indeed showed her kindness, and she owed him for it. "Though k-no I need to khow many 'ssome' Umira flowers are."

[Private to GM: When you read the "kh" at the beginning of "khow," does it read as the sound ending "Bach?"]
This message was last edited by the player at 23:39, Fri 11 June 2010.

"Oh, well - half a dozen should do. If you collect a few more than that, then I can share with you some of the salve. Might come in useful!"

"The Urmira flowers grow in groups of two or three, so it shouldn't be too hard to find them."

"My thanks if you do this - I will owe you!"

[Private to Vorel: Yes, I think so. Might need to see it in other contexts to get a proper idea though.]

Knowing the extent of her quest and being unbothered by the gathering darkness, Vorel left Owain's camp and moved downhill, not bothering with following the trail she had been earlier. Soon, she began seeking the strange flowers in earnest.

08:57, Today: Vorel rolled 9 using 1d20+3. Survival.
08:57, Today: Vorel rolled 21 using 1d20+4. Search.

Owain bid Vorel good luck - then he was out of earshot as she made her way down into the forest.

The scents and sounds of life hung heavily in the air around her; in particular the increasing chitters and chirrups of the night-insects beginning to emerge from their hiding holes.

Vorel's progress was slowed by the necessity of stooping to check any likely-seeming flowers. She found nothing for the first fifteen minutes or so; but then, if the plant was that easy to find, Owain could probably have taken the risk.

After a little over half an hour, there was still no sign of these blossoms.

There was suddenly something else though - a horrible cry, like the voice of some half-strangled human, rushing towards Vorel from her left. It was most likely around 80 feet away, and it sounded neither happy nor friendly.

Vorel readied herself for battle, turning to face the sound and standing her ground in a display of dominance. Normally, a good kobold would hide from an oncoming threat, but seeing as how she was terrible at that and the horribly-strangled-sounding-thing had presumably already seen her, that wasn't an option.

[Private to GM: So, how does combat work in The Fourth Son?]

Whatever the thing was, it rushed closer, not slowing - it was now at 40 feet, making a horrible gurgling sound and raising an awful stink.

[Private to Vorel: Roll initiative, but post in any order (obviously there's only you here!).
Optionally post up to 3 rounds of actions, including rolls, and with conditional statements if needed; but don't get too complicated.
You should probably post just one round at a time unless you want the combat to fly by.
When making an action, make all rolls you think are necessary - if attacking, roll damage as well, just in case you hit.]

20:48, Today: Vorel rolled 6 using 1d20+3. Initiative.

Vorel continued to hold her ground, partly out of a lack of anything else to do coming to mind. Should the thing appear about to trample over her, she'll attempt to dodge it.

20:50, Today: Vorel rolled 22 using 1d20+8. Tumble.

Whatever the thing was, it continued to rush right at Vorel. Leaping aside, she rolled a few feet away, feeling it surge past with a cry and a wafting of foul air.

It sounded no larger than Vorel herself, and two-footed, though something about the sound of it's gait was odd.

It seemed to recover quickly and again launched itself towards the young woman, continuing to gurgle furiously.

Only two legs, eh? Vorel thought with a smirk, coming up with a plan. On the thing's next pass, she'd crouch down and go for the thing's ankle, though still moving most of herself out of the way.

15:27, Today: Vorel rolled 21 using 1d20+4. Attack.
15:28, Today: Vorel rolled 6 using 1d6+1. Damage.
15:28, Today: Vorel rolled 14 using 1d6+8. Tumble.

It seemed the beast didn't anticipate Vorel's cunning, as it ploughed almost straight into her attack. Her sweep connected firmly and the thing let out a hideous high-pitched screech - seemed she'd injured it.

It didn't go entirely Vorel's way, though. Her attack affected her balance, and so she couldn't fully get out of the thing's path.

Fortunately, her reflexes kicked in as it took a swipe, and she brushed aside a hairy, clawed arm as it went for her face.

As she turned the owlbear's arm away, Vorel threw a fist and an elbow at the thing's torso, aiming just below where she figured the arm came from, closing the already-short distance between the two, as per kobold idiom: "If you has to attack, and you's by yerself, git close as you can to da Biggers. And behind 'em, too. Be slippery as a weasel, quick as a snake."

Flurry of Blows:
15:46, Today: Vorel rolled 17 using 1d20+2. Flurry.
15:46, Today: Vorel rolled 7 using 1d6+1. Damage.
15:46, Today: Vorel rolled 18 using 1d20+2. Flurry.
15:46, Today: Vorel rolled 5 using 1d6+1. Damage.

This attack was effective - her blows struck home and the creature collapsed with a thud, gurgling softly, before it was still and silent.

After the rush of combat, the calm was almost shocking.

Vorel panted lightly for a moment, straining to hear any more enemies. Upon none being forthcoming, she stomped on the ground and then knelt beside her attacker's prone form, trying to figure out what manner of creature this was that didn't even try to flee when she injured it the first time.

The creature Vorel examined seemed to be humanoid - but only just. Oddly spindly legs supported a muscled torso with large arms. Each limb was out of proportion with the others; indeed, the whole beast was misshapen, including some lumpy growths on its head and chest that seemed to be mutations.

The thing appeared to be entirely naked, and carried no tools of any sort.

Well, that's strange, Vorel deduced. Still, she had flowers to find, and thus moved on, leaving the defeated foe to its fate.

Another hour or so of searching, and Vorel had found her flowers. Owain was right, they were distinctive enough. It was only a little while back to where the fellow was camping, so the journey shouldn't have been much of a problem.

Yet a strange feeling of foreboding overtook the young woman as she felt her way back. With little warning, snarling and grunting sounds intruded on her musings - sound like two more of those strange beasts!

Even so, these were different - neither sounded (or smelt) quite alike.

[Private to Vorel: Part of group 3 has melted away again - I need to recap for one of the players who's been away, then find somewhere to drop you in.

Incidentally in this instance running away is of course an option! That isn't a hint, just pointing out that I don't expect you to do particular things.]

The snarling of the creatures seemed to indicate that they'd detected her, and so Vorel turned and ran, hoping to lose them in the forest's brush and also lead them away from Owain.


22:24, Today: Vorel rolled 14 using 1d20+4. Hide.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:24, Wed 01 Sept 2010.

Vorel's quick move seemed to work; the snarling and snuffling dropped off. It wasn't quite that fortunate though, for within seconds she heard sounds of pursuit - one of the beasts was clearly more tenacious than the other.

If she had to, Vorel knew she could take the creature down. She'd prefer to deter it without killing it, but some beasties never learn. She sighed, steeling herself for the coming battle. She listened to the breathing of her pursuer, and her bare feet caught the slightest vibrations of the monster's footfalls. It was big and powerful, but not as quick as she. That would be its downfall, unless it knew better.

21:34, Today: Vorel rolled 18 using 1d20+3. Initiative.
Fighting Defensively, until attacked.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:36, Fri 03 Sept 2010.

Vorel heard the creature stampeding in and shifted position in anticipation. Sure enough, a swooshing sound by her left ear indicated it was in no mood to talk (if it was even capable of speech!).

Having "seen" the first beast and how it was built, Vorel struck out hoping to connect with the creature decisively. Alas, she wasn't precise enough.

10:57, Today: Secret Roll: Vorel rolled 7 using 1d20. Melée attack.
Might as well take a five-foot step Northward while I'm at it.

Likewise, the creature seemed to be off-balance and missed with two swipes, though one thudded into a tree with a pretty heavy-sounding impact.

Its howls of rage didn't quite mask the crashing and snapping of the other beast approaching - it was a minute away at best.

[Private to Vorel: Stupid dice roller!]

Not much time.

Vorel threw her hands at the beast like a pair of knives, one flung at the torso and the other behind the creature's center of mass, followed by an elbow to what she hoped was where the joint might be.

[Private to GM:  Stupid dice roller, indeed.
20:35, Today: Secret Roll: Vorel rolled 13 using 1d20+2. Flurry 1.
20:36, Today: Secret Roll: Vorel rolled 9 using 1d20+2. Flurry 2.
20:36, Today: Secret Roll: Vorel rolled 3 using 1d6+1. Flurry 1 damage.
20:36, Today: Secret Roll: Vorel rolled 5 using 1d6+1. Flurry 2 damage.]

The creature anticipated the first of Vorel's blows, ducking out of the way with a howl that sounded disturbingly pleased, then simply absorbed the second attack without even flinching.

In retaliation it struck low and high, catching Vorel before she could recover.

OOC: At last it rolls well! A rather painful 12 damage to you.

The half-elf barbarian roared at the beast, standing her ground and attacking it again with the outer edges of her open hands. The roar of animalistic dominance soon transitioned to a howl of frustration. It was not a good day to be Vorel.

13:48, Today: Secret Roll: Vorel rolled 13,4 using 1d20+2,1d6+1. Flurry 1.
13:48, Today: Secret Roll: Vorel rolled 14,4 using 1d20+2,1d6+1. Flurry 2.
First result is attack, second is damage.