Once more the inviting warmth of the sun envelopes you as you exit the horrific mouth carved into the rock face.  The swamp you had skirted only a day before spreads out before you in the near distance, its landscape almost barren and devoid of life.  Slowly, you work your way back down the rock formation and, after scouting a suitable pathway, turn sharply westward and begin trekking into the deep forest.  In no time you are surrounded by the sights and smells of this ancient and cursed forest.

While initially it appeared inviting, almost comforting in its forgotten beauty, the forest very quickly took a sinister turn.  The canopy overhead grew thick and blotted out the sunlight, casting a grayish haze upon the landscape.  In some areas it grew so thick that patches of fog still swirled effortlessly through the trees.  The ground itself grew hard, almost like rock, with only the most simple and basic of plant life covering it.  Soon, the smaller trees begin to thin out and their skeletons began stretching across the landscape like a cemetery.  Before long, you were in what is affectionately referred to as a 'widow makers' forest, a section of land covered with old, dead and dying trees that frequently collapse under their own weight.  The sound of splintering wood and loud *THUDS* periodically echo through the wind.

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 1):

Generally speaking, Boris felt comfortable in the forest. The forests here seemed somehow blighted and unearthly, as if awaiting the chance to trap and kill the unwary.

"I thinks, perhaps, in reaching this island we have crossed over into some upper plane of Hell. Perhaps I should have lived my life better, though it be too late now!"

He shared around his wineskin while they took a break.

OOC: So, basically, there is a canopy of old growth forest above us, over a layer of decaying leaves. Little or no surface vegetation but plenty of fallen timber and rotting stumps  everywhere on the ground. Doing a little Google research "widow-makers" are trees and limbs that are dead but trapped in the upper canopy, waiting for the wind or gravity to bring them crashing down. Although damage from lightning and wind is a cause the most common cause is fungal growth, which seems to perfectly fit the situation!

In reply to Boris Underhill (msg # 2):

Gadly accepting the wine skin from Boris.
"Thank you, this is refreshing."

Looking around at the forest.

"I surely dont know where we are, but this forest seems old, and needs a good cleansing.
 Lets get out of here as soon as we can, please.

Ondrea stayed standing once they had stopped, keeping an eye on their surroundings. She accepted the wineskin and took a mouthful before passing it off to the next person. "It would seem that tracking these raiders was going to be a harder task then I thought." She looked at the old sinister forest around them.


-

Larz took his place in line and took a large mouthful of wine before handing it back to Stoney.  Instinctively, his hand hovers around his sword handle, ready to pull at a moments notice.

"I don't like this place one bit, nor do I fancy being here overnight.  We should quicken our pace if we wish to leave this place behind before nightfall."

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 5):

"Yes. As God is my witness, I do not like this forest at all.

"I believe I was wrong! Let us follow our path back south. It may go through the swamp but at least it's ground we have traveled before."

Unless anyone objects, Boris makes his way back to the path they forged coming north, and then began back-tracking.

Io & Galen - Following the path of destruction, you veer NW along the edge of the swamp.  The land itself started to look confused and it would seem that perhaps this was a tidal marsh as thick, lush vegetation overlapped with areas drowned and devoid of plant life.  At times the ground was firm and easy to pass, yet others it was like syrup, slowing your movements as you fight to remain standing.  Finally, in the distance, you spy the darkness of another treeline as the land begins to rise from the swamp.  As you get closer, you can see the land begins to rise sharply...a good sign that firmer ground lay ahead.  Trudging onward the ground does indeed become drier and once more movement is free and unfettered.  Just as you reach the forests edge, you hear voices, human voices, ahead of you...

Frederick & Albion - The passageway ran deeper and deeper into the blackness of the cold rock.  Moving cautiously it was clear that another group had already been through here recently, perhaps more than once.  Which direction they ultimately went was anyone's guess, however.  Finally you spy daggers of sunlight piercing through the endless void of nothing.  With little hesitation you step out from the cave and warm yourselves in the light.  The air was thick with moisture but was a welcome relief to the cold damp of the cave itself.  Looking around you find a horrifying visage carved around the cave entrance; a large, ghoulish stone face in all its horrid glory.  Despite how worn the stone was, you could still see that whoever carved it had little skill or care for its design.  Rough edges and chisel marks were plain as day from top to bottom.  The eyes were nowhere near equal in proportion and the nose was horribly crooked.  The mouth, however, seemed to almost possess a true nature of the sinister.  The teeth, carved both top and bottom, were a tangle of jagged, twisting stone and you could swear you actually heard it breathing. Finding a small, hidden trail off to one side, you waste no time in starting your decent.  Carefully and cautiously, you begin to move down the cliff face.  The formally hidden path weaves in and out from the rock face, where it vanishes you manage to discover indentations with fresh scuff marks, with the path reappearing just as the climbing becomes near impossible.  As you draw nearer and nearer to the ground, you spy two lone figures, human no doubt, moving in your direction...

Boris & Stoney & Ondrea (& Larz) - The air was once more thick and humid and the thought of facing the stinging hordes of the swamp once more was unpleasant at best.  Still, it was a direction you knew and therefore a safer option (maybe).  As you begin to march back through the deadwood, the lone rock formation looms ahead of you; the twisted stone face still fresh in your minds.  Drawing closer, you hear sounds of disturbance originating from somewhere above.  Stopping to listen, it definitely sounds like something descending the cliff face ahead, perhaps following the same trail you had taken...

Frederick pulls out a rag from a pocket and cleans his hands and does his best to dust off his clothes.

Dirty business this always is. Well, can't be helped.

He looks up and thru in the distance sees movement. He nods to Hawkmoon and the archer.

I believe I see others down there? Does anyone else see them?

"Looks like two humans to me... I will hail them, and if trouble ensues we can retreat as our archer friend lays down covering fire."

The shiny mailed man raises an arm and hails them.

"Hello down there, I greet you with the peace of Pelor, bringer of light!"

"... so then the farmer said... Oh, look Io, people! I bet they are those adventurers that we heard about. OOOOIIII! HEELLLLLOOOOOO!!! MAY BIBI BLESS YOU WITH HER KINDNESS!!!"

Speeding up the pace, Galen goes to meet the trio of strangers that were descending from the cliff side.

And so Io appears before the others.
A rather huge man, missing both of his arms, wearing nothing but muddied sandals and equally muddied pants.
The swamp having made a mark upon him.
He walks forward, not sharing the enthusiasm of Galen.
Indeed, if Galen is a nice, charming and friendly figure, Io is the complete opposite: a huge man with scars all over, a sour look, untamed hair and absolutely bestial.
He doesn't say anything, letting Galen took the diplomacy role... but from his stance he looks more similar to a lion seizing up a prey than a man.

Ondrea raises her hand in greeting, but does not shout out a welcome. "Well this is uncanny, perhaps they know more about this place then us..."

Once the groups coverage on each other she introduces herself as Ondrea and adds a little back story from when they left the village.


-
This message was last edited by the player at 23:33, Wed 14 Nov 2018.

Frederick will bow deeply and introduce himself and the rest of his companions.

I am Frederick, Thaumaturgist and Traveller. This fine gentleman with me is Hawkmoon and the archer here is Trevor Ashenblood. And the fat little rodent on my shoulder is Dinen.  We recently awoke in the cursed village and have been trying to locate where we are.

The ferret on his should chatter at him a bit until he reached into a pocket and pulls out a bit of jerky and hand it to the ferret. The ferret sits on the shoulder and contentedly munches on the jerky.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:33, Wed 14 Nov 2018.

Hawkmoon smiles and bows when introduced.

"I am blessed as a Crusader of Mayaheine and follow in her path."

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 14):

Stoney is always open to meet new people, especially if they have a drink with them.
"Cheers to our new friends."
Stoney holds up his wineskin, then drinks.

Whispering to Andrea.
"You can always tell someones intentions by how they raise they drink.  How do we know these aren't the people we are looking for?"

In reply to Stoney Applesmith (msg # 15):

"Greetings, I am Boris!" said a halfling in well-worn traveller's gear and clothing. He wore a gold crucifix around his neck. On his pack was a buckler and from his belt hung a sling and a short sword in a scabbard.

"Good day to you. We were following the trail of some Saracens that attacked Port Strange. Their trail led here to this God-accursed temple, as best we could tell, although it may have gone further. If you art a crusader, fellow Hawkmoon, I assume it is not of the Temple, yet you may be of great aid to us."

Hawkmoon looks puzzled at Boris's speech for a moment.

"Sire, I am sworn to the ascended lady Mayaheine whose sword serves Pelor yet unwaveringly.  Where I tread, it might be said, a shrine to her stands."

He pats the hilt of his rather large sword.  "And how I worship... "  he shakes his head softly.  "..has to do with being her champion."

Good hail to thee Boris and friends. Have you any knowledge of the village where time seems to have forgotten to move forward? For that is where we found ourselves, after being in our own land. We were each in his own place, shrouded in fog only to awaken in the village. And we know not where we are.

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 17):

Seeming to understand a little what the other were talking about, Boris clarified, "ah, I see. To my understanding, Pelor is a Good and Holy aspect or servant of the One True God, who is worshiped by many in His stead although He rules over all. And by "Temple" I mean Solomon's temple, of course. If you a Crusader, like the Holy Knights of Soloman's Temple, or "Templars", then you are indeed a servant of the Lord and a strong ally in the fight against the evil of this foul land.

"We have indeed seen the cursed village in the forest, where trees and bushes have grown through the walls, yet all seems undisturbed. My companions took some food and drink, but I am not so trusting.

"As I've said, we hail from Port Strange on the coast, to the south past the foul swamp. From there we were charged to follow and root out a warband of Saracen raiders. We followed them here to this temple, and have searched it to no avail, although there were traps and demonic spirits that bedeviled us within. From a rear entrance on the far side of this mount we spied a strange village in the forest yesterday, and visited it, and returned. Now we make our way back to Port Strange.

"As for where you are... I believe this might be a plane of Hell, or at least a part of Purgatory. I believe I am no longer near my homeland of Outremer or the kingdom of Prester John. Nor is this the long-lost Europa from whence the Knights of Soloman's Temple journeyed, many generations ago, to free the Holy Land from the Saracen. I also do not think this is the same land my companions hail from, either. But I am not fully knowledgeable or all lands under the eye of God, and so we may be somewhere in the southern reaches of Alkebulan, far-off Siam or India, or perhaps lost Atlantis or far-away Lemuria.

"Wherever we are from, we are here on some kind of island. We all met in Port Strange, and there we hope to return.

"On a practical note, the swamp ahead of us as we return to Port Strange is full of demonic creatures of nightmare. Two nights ago we fought nightmare creatures in the shape of a man's skull on top of a snake skeleton, and they used dark magic to freeze my companions, although God protected me from harm. With His help we slew them."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:27, Fri 16 Nov 2018.

"... ... ... ... Well, nice to meet you all! We are actually looking for... you, i believe? Did you find the goblins? You killed them all? Or maybe you found their commander, and ended their realm of terror? And about the swamp, you probably killed the only thing there, because that place is as empty as it gets. Right, Io?"

He turns towards Boris.
"When people talk about one true gods, there's always the scent of either madness or sin in the air... furthermore, seeing as we have two, if not more, servants of deities, I'd be careful to declare them servants to others, least you are accused of heresy..."
He then narrow his eyes.
"...from experience, this kind of talk... is vampire talk... I got my eyes on you"

He then turns towards Galen.
"I am not sure, all I know is that there was no life within swamp or forest... but you are right, we are heading to kill goblins for a bounty, so if you didn't do it yourself and are headed back to the port, just tell the chief there that we were still alive when you met us"

We have seen no goblins, or anything else, living or unliving, until meeting you. We were following tracks from the village to the cave and inside but found nothing.

He looks toward Io.

Be assured there is only one True God. It is from this being that all powers flow, the divine power used by Clerics and Paladins, and the powers used by Mages such as myself. The other Gods are simply a manifestation of his power that allows the channeling of that power to a level that our bodies can stand. Heresy is a man-made word that allows one man to treat another badly, because of his beliefs.

In reply to Frederick (msg # 22):

Listening to their conversation, Stoney is sipping on his wine.
Eyeing the strange fellow with no arms, wondering how he came to be an adventurer.  Maybe he has some spectral arms, of some sort, or he has mental powers to move things. Unsure, he continues to listen.
Stoney is familiar with many gods, and knows Pelor well, but these lands and gods Boris speaks of he needs to learn more about.  He has never heard of them.

"Oh? That is simply not true. There is many evidence about the many gods. I mean, look no further than myself or our palading friend here. Our powers were granted by Bibi, in my case, and Pelor in his. Heresy is a word used to describe those that believe in things that don't exist. Like "The One True God". Or... ehmm... friendly undead. But I don't wish to antagonize you. As opposed to some of my fellow cleric, I'm not a persecutor of heretics or ignorants. As long as you are good to your peers, you get a pass on my book!"

With a smile, Galen raises his thumb in approval to Frederick.

He scoffs.
"Heresy is what you proclaim, for I've seen man made gods in my years of traveling, when my arms were still attached and all of those were declared the true deities of those populations"
He spits on the ground then.
"Who are you to declare your deity as true? What has your deity accomplished that makes it different from others? Then, as true god, is your deity also an aspect of the unholy beings that vampires call their own patrons? Is your true god also patron of demons and fiends, of the wars they enact, of all things natural and unnatural?"
He shakes his head.
"Nay, you are the same as the rest, a prophet of empty words and arrogant entity, just another voice trying to convert others to their unholy sect"

In reply to Io the Lost (msg # 25):

Wiping his mouth clean of any wine, after a long sip.  the little halfling, with his hammer on his side, and raggedy clothes draped over his shoulders.
"Now, now aren't we all friends here?  We all want the same goal, to help eradicate these goblins.  Does it matter if it is Pelor who empowers you, or Bibi, or One true God?  I have studied many gods in my time in the abby, and there are many good gods."
Looking at his wineskin.
"It is man who corrupts these gods, and contorts their gods powers to further their own agenda.  Either corrupted by power, or drink, or drugs.  In the end they will be judged, but as I see it we all are on the same side, even if our beliefs are different not exactly the same."
Now drinking his wineskin.
"Let us work together, and postulate theories, and truths, as we march on and eliminate the evils and help the good people of th village."

"I couldn't agree more with our flammable friend here. The priority right now is to get rid of the goblin threat, so the people at... Strange Port, was it? Can sleep peacefully. Oh, did I introduce myself? I don't think I did. My apologies. I'm Galen, devoted healer of the Order of Bibi. This is my friend and companion Io. Don't let appearances decieve you, he is the living proof that you don't need your arms to be a good fighter!"

A nod to Stoney, another to Galen.  Solemn, but with a smile.

He turns to Io.

"Sire, I am not here to push religion, nor do I exist to proclaim what is and is not heresy.  I am also not here to debate the niceties of various pantheons.  You seem to be fed up with all gods, and that is well enough to be."

He puts one mailed hand over his metal plated chest.  "Sire, I am a foe of evil, simply put.  It does not matter what gods I have been gifted by, and what minions I may fight.  I represent what is good, and I will fight evil, and I do it not for gods to extend any influence, but I do it for the mortals who live in this land and others, that they might live the way they choose."

He drops his hand back to his side.  "I do what I do because it comes naturally to me, like breathing, and for this I was chosen as a champion."

Well said Hawkmoon. Evil and good do not need deities to work their ways. And do not take me wrong Sir. I worship no god. I simply state that there is one all-powerful entity that gives power to those who learn to master it. What those such as myself and those who receive their powers from a great being do not simply use what is natural. We twist the natural order to cause effects that we wish. And we are granted access to that power by something. Because I can tell you that if the power of the universe were not contained by something, those who learn to manipulate that power could cause the destruction of the world with a snap of their fingers. But as it stands, we must coax and tease and drag bits of the power out to do our bidding.

He turns to Galen

What know you of the goblins?

"You say you worship no god, yet you spew about an all powerful entity that gives power to all others"
He scoffs, then.
"Go to the elves and tell them that their pantheon is defined by humans... then go to the orcs and do the same... travel, towards the distant mountains where gnomes and dwarves live and preach to them of all this all powerful entity that only humans are aware of and declare it to be the most powerful... then watch, as their clerics and champions smite you with the same powers you claim are derivative to your benevolent deity"

Finally, he looks at Albion, head to toe.
"Then you shall find that eventually the gods will want their due for what they have given you, for if you do not work for them then your powers are not truly yours... but rather, a loan as long as you wear their banner for publicity"
He sighs then.
"Not that I look down upon another man that wishes to vanquish evil from this land... but when something is taken then something must be given back: be vigilant least others uses your own goodwill against you and yours"

He continue, looking everyone within the group.
"Of goblins we know none, they left no tracks so far that I could find but still we have intention to either clear their dens or at least inspect their forces before reporting back, should you care to join we won't mind, though try to keep delusions of grandeur to thyselves"

Hawkmoon laughs and shakes his head.

"You are mistaken, sire.  I said nothing of humans, just mortals.. and long lived while elves may be, they yet are mortal."

A brow raised to the armless man, then a smile.
"They will have my life, certainly, my soul... possibly more.  My mistress will have her due, and will watch over me to ensure my deeds are worthy of her name.  My hand is guided in it's task."

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 31):

Religions talks should be in Stoney's wheelhouse, but he is feeling a bit uncomfortable.  Could it be the talk of all these different gods, and Stoney feeling beneath, and not worthy of any, or the armless man, and his gruff attitude?

"Perhaps you could have better luck than we have had.  We haven't been able to find these goblins, a fresh set of eyes might be a good idea."
Unable to keep his eyes off the armless man.  His head turning to face the others, slightly, but eyes focused on the armless man.  Like a child seeing something different, and cant stop staring.

"I will see about what I can do with good old tracking.  Goblins are not very smart creatures, but they are wiley... and nasty, mean and normally murderous."

"Do you have a place they were last seen to work with?"

"We were told they raided caravans and merchants... alas, I suspect it may be worse"
He gives a mean look towards Stoney... well, "mean", from what he could see Io only had that sort of look for the entirety of the conversation the group was having.
"Mhn..." He continues, looking back to the others "...it is clear these goblins are more than they seem: such despicable creatures cares little of tactics, preparations and cleverness, if they are capable of hiding with such skill they must have someone controlling them, I am hoping this someone be a mortal one"

"Even if there is some sort of deity supporting them, I would think that a representative would be mortal.  If we can track down and cut off the head, the thrashing body is much easier to deal with than an coordinated one.  If it is convoys they raid, that is where we need to start our investigation.  Maybe we can find evidence of their preparations, camps."

Frederick can stand it no longer and when Hawkmoon gives him a slight opening he takes it. He turns to Io and speaks.

At the risk of being rude Sir, how is it that you have become armless and not seen to have clerics return your limbs to you? Or to have a Mage construct you replacements? You have the build and movements of a fighter but not of one who is used to unarmed combat. Pardon, that was not meant as a joke or pun. I would venture from your build that you swing a sword and carried a shield at one time. That's a hard transition to make. And I must admit to a curiosity to the story behind it all.

He looks towards Frederick.
"Indeed, there was a risk of you being rude and such risk has been fulfilled"
He says nothing else then, turning back towards Albion.
"I've been keeping an eye out, though we are aware their settlement should be somewhere in the north, if I am not mistaken that is"
This message was last edited by the player at 10:19, Sun 18 Nov 2018.

In reply to Galen (msg # 20):

"These Saracens, goblins, you call them, they attacked Port Strange in the south. We followed their back trail north to the swamp. One path led deeper into the swamp, the other seemed to follow more solid ground and that is the path we took. After a day's journey we found this temple and beyond it the strange timeless village. We did not find any more Saracens, so perhaps the ones we vanquished at Port Strange were the only members of the warband. There was a dead fellow somewhere in there but he had expired quite some time ago, I fear. We found tracks of a single person in the temple and followed as best we could but we are not trackers. Still, one Saracen isn't much of a threat.

"Should you accompany us to that spot down south, we may find the spot where the paths diverge. If you have a tracker among you we might then follow it to the Saracen's main encampment. Because neither the temple nor the village seemed to have many signs of habitation. We did not find any more

"As for being a heretic... er, I don't think I am one? I am not a theologian or priest. I am pretty sure I am not a vampire! Yes, I know I am a sinner because we are all born in sin, redeemed through the sacrifice of our Saviour, Jesus Christ." He makes the sign of the cross at this.

"The Church teaches us there are many lesser gods in this world, or at least beings worshiped as gods. Some are good and thus serve the One True God, who created the world and the universe and all within it. The same for their followers. While others, mainly demons posing as deities in order to deceive the unwary, are evil and serve Satan, His adversary. Those who serve evil, like the Saracens, are the heretics. Those who serve neither good nor evil fall somewhere in the middle but are not heretics. I think. Again, you'd want to ask a priest for all the ins and outs."

"Your church sounds unusual, but not unjust.  It is not unlikely that great deities such as Pelor are known by another name in another place.  Your beliefs sound interesting, but what of the powers that true believers of any religion can wield?"

He hmmms

"Since we are close, and I am a tracker, shall we chance again to find this one fellow, though with all of us it may have become more difficult to do so, if we allow him to slip free he may bring warning to his compatriots."

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 39):

"Good point, we don't want the lone goblin warning its friends."
Sipping on his wineskin, before corking int, and hanging it back up.
"If you are a tracker, it seems like we are all on the same path.  Lead on, then.  I will cover the rear, to make sure nothing sneaks up on us."

Walking over to the beautiful Ondrea, and grabbing her arm.

"I will protect you, don't worry."
Leaning in a little closer, for a hug or peck on the cheek.

Alas, I have shown very poor manners.  Please pardon me Sir Io. It has been a stressful day and I have completely forgotten my teachings. If I may ask, are you all of this world? Boris, you mention a strange diety and call the goblins by a strange name. I cannot recall mention of a town called Strange Port, although I am not conversant in the geography of the whole of my world.

He gets lost in thought for  amoment then looks back to the group

For my own part I have no objections to joining up with your group, assuming your group has no issues with us joining you.

"I vouch whole-heartedly for Frederick, if that helps.  He is a hale and well intentioned companion and quite clever as well."

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 39):

"To my understanding, Pelor is indeed a great god, powerful, deeply respected and just. Just not "created the entire universe" level of powerful, if you catch my meanings. I'm not quite sure but there's two schools of thought in the Church about the other deities, according to a priest I once knew.

"The main belief in the Church is that the One True God rules over creation, but due to the terms of eternal battle with his adversary he cannot intervene directly on the mortal plane. Thus he requires others beneath him to do his bidding. Simply put, the "good" gods are really Angels, Archangels or other servants of God that carry out His will on the mortal plane, and thus their followers can carry out miracles as long as these serve Him in some sense. The "evil" gods are demons or demonic spirits that present themselves as gods to lure and trap the unwary or un-Godly, using their demonic powers to do so. Neutral gods are a bit of a toss-up, their power comes from nature or some other mystic source. The Church neither condemns nor condones these "Pagan" gods and religions. The differing belief is that maybe these other gods are actually gods... just not The God. Their worth is judged on their actions, not on their adherence to Church doctrine. For that matter, anyone who is good may ascend to Heaven, whether or not the belong to the Mother Church or have accepted Jesus as their Saviour, for they ultimately still serve and honour God in their own way. Ours is a just and loving God and forgiving of such lapses in faith and good judgement.

"As for where to go, I was hoping to travel back to Port Strange. I feel you are perhaps like us, for we all started on journeys... elsewhere. Then we ended up there.

"We can go back in the cave temple to track the lone person. If we have a tracker that might work better this time! Or we can backtrack south through the swamp and take the other fork in the path."

I do not know this "Jesus Christ" of which you speak, but the concept of a Deity above and beyond the ones the majority worship makes sense. And the fact that It cannot interfere in the daily lives of mortals is also a valid concept. For otherwise there would be no strife, no excitement in the world. We would spend our lives worshipping the One True God and have no worries for anything else. I believe the mana Mages use for their spells is simply spillage from the creation that we have learned to tap into. This is a sound theory you put forth my small friend.

Frederick points to the sky.

And if we feel it is pertinent I can allow myself and one other to get a birds-eye view of the area to decide what direction we might want to travel.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:38, Mon 19 Nov 2018.

A soft sigh from Hawkmoon and he takes a seat on an outcropping.

"I am not much of one for religious debate to be honest.  Pelor is the god of light, the sun and creator of most that is good.  He is not some minor deity subservient to another, he is the greatest god of good.  Sire, I do not wish to talk about your beliefs, and I am starting to get offended by how you belittle my faith.  Be done with this diatribe so that we might get on with the business of killing evil, which be something I care much about."

He shakes his head looking at Boris.

"Gods cannot directly intervene upon this plane, which is why mortals such as myself are empowered to act in their stead.  Even loyal Mayaheine herself is stripped of much power upon this plane, and she wast born mortal.  Sire, if a Paladin of Pelor's champion can keep his preaching to a minimum, then surely you who claims far less involvement can keep your peace upon your beliefs?  I beg of you."

He gestures back over to the mountain they came of.

"I found myself awakened within that strange village oddly preserved, and this was not the land that I was to travel prior.  With me were several strangers and I suspect we were in some way called, or spirited away.  Mayhap we are needed to bring balance to this place, you think?"

Ondrea looked at the sky and then added "We should get moving, I don't want to be out here after dark if possible. There are some very unholy things in these woods and even with a few extra sword arms I'd rather have a ale in front of me tonight."


-

In reply to Frederick (msg # 44):

"By all means, friend Frederick. Once we choose a course of action we may continue further, and you can climb up for a better view!

"And friend Hawkmoon, spoken like a true Paladin! I have known many a Templar who's head would begin to throb when there is more discussion than fighting and see disrespect where there is none as an excuse for said fighting. Present company excluded, of course. And no doubt some force has pulled us here, to a land that seems unusually cursed with evil. Let us not fight among ourselves.

"As for our course, I don't think we are going to learn more at the temple or the odd, timeless village beyond it. I suggest we continue back south, and then take the other path where the trail of the Saracens' diverged."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:01, Mon 19 Nov 2018.

I was not speaking of climbing but of taking flight as the birds do. I have the power to manipulate the threads of mana to allow us to soar like eagles.

Frederick looks to the lady who spoke and is smitten. She was both lovely and dangerous at the same time.

Aye milady. A night in town to further discuss plans might be advantageous.  And I will soon need to rest, for this has been a busy day thus far, and I am growing weary from my weavings.

In reply to Frederick (msg # 48):

Stoney has sat down, and started sipping on his wine,while everyone interjects their beliefs.

He nods to Boris.  "Sire, those sound like good tales for a campfire with a hart roasting upon it, or a lazy winter eve of feasting, no offense taken but let us get to task."

"The lady speaks wisely.  Where is our best and fastest travel for a campsite?"

He looks around.

A smile to Frederick  <blue"And how long or far can we fly sire Frederick."</blue>


OOC:  A please please note:  Hawkmoon only gives the name Hawkmoon.

For roughly an hour.  I am never certain of the duration, but I have a spell in preparation to slow the fall of myself and whoever is with me.

Then he turns to Io

I am not certain why you say I speak of a human deity. My Elven mother also had this thought, that there is some Being of great power that holds the verses together. But it only a belief, a thought. The Being we postulate is more than a God. It is the origin of all power and magic that flows in the multiple planes and verses. This is not to disparage anyone's beliefs or their God. Galen is granted the ability to heal wounded flesh by Bibi. There is no doubt of this. And Hawkmoon is granted his powers by Pelor. But have you never given thought to where all this power comes from? Why there are so many different and varied Gods and not just one God who rules the lands? I believe it is because there is something more powerful behind them all. But I am but a Humble Mage of the Fourth Order. I am not a theologian who sits all day and ponders and trains to learn about the many Gods. I learn some small ability to weave the threads of magic that surround us and shape it with my will to achieve the ends I seek.

He steps back and bows low to Io and Galen

But, alas, I see that I have offended thee. Please accept my apologies and let us continue on this mission. We will speak no more of conflicting ideas and will only move forward in our occupations. If it so please you Sires.

In reply to Boris Underhill (msg # 47):

"That is as good of plan as any Boris, please lead on." Ondrea will follow Boris as he picks his way forward, her hammer is in her hand and at the ready.

-

In reply to Ondrea Avalor (msg # 52):

Hopping up out of his seated position, still drink in hand.  Hammer in other hand, looking at it inquisitively.

"Andrea, looks like you and I both need a new hammer after that black ooze played waste to ours."

Stoney's hammer is partially melted on one end.

"Still will be effective, at least until I find a new one.  tracker, please lead on."  Stated to one of the new groupies, who can track better than the rest of us.

Frederick looks at the weapons.

Are either of these magical weapons? If not, I can repair them for you.

He reaches inside his cloak and pulls a couple of small lodestones from a pocket.

In reply to Ondrea Avalor (msg # 52):

"Right then. Back south. No villages here, I'm afraid! We came to a fork and followed some tracks here, looking for the Saracens' camp. We found this temple instead. We are heading back to the fork, if we may find it, and that branch may lead us to the villains we seek.

"So, Frederick, you can fly? I assume by Magickal means? And your conception of God is I think what I have been taught. There are many placed on Earth where God and Jesus's names are unknown, we are obviously in one of them."

With that he started to lead the party south, through the swamp and to the fork in the path where he thought them might find the Saracens' camp.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:34, Wed 21 Nov 2018.

In reply to Frederick (msg # 54):

"Thank you for the offer, but my hammer is crafted meticulously, and does have magic imbued upon it."

Spinning his hammer in his palm, while walking to the fork in the road.

"Here look at it.  Maybe you still could repair some of the damage.  It has been with me a long tie, and I hate to lose it, now."

You are correct Boris. I weave the threads of magic to allow me to ascend to the clouds. The difference between the Mages concept of One True God and yours is that our concept doesn't require worship. Everything It needs comes from the worship of the Gods themselves.  This adds power and magical energy to It, thus back to the world.

Frederick looks over the hammer Stoney hands him.

I can at least fix the handle of it. But the head will not stay fixed for more than about 10 minutes. If we were to enter a battle I could mend it and it would last you the fight anyway.

Frederick lays the hammer on a stump and places the lodestones on either side of it. Then he begins his weaving and a glow surrounds the hammer as well as the sound of smiths and woodcutters at work. The handle and head of the hammer become as new. After about 10 minutes, the head of the hammer reverts back to its damaged self.

In reply to Frederick (msg # 57):

"Thank you for trying to repair it.  I have never witnessed that type of magic.  I am anxious to see what else you have up your sleeve."
Handing Frederick a drink.
"Here, have a sip for your efforts."

Frederick gives a small bow.

Thank you, kind sir. I do what little I can. My sleeves are close to empty for this day. I have the energy for a few more weavings but not much.  I have expended a lot today and will have to rest and recharge.

In reply to Frederick (msg # 57):

Boris chatted away, grateful for the conversation in the gloomy forest if a little out of his depth when it came to metaphysics.

"The Church used to believe that it was only via a bargain with demons or a pact with Satan that made sorcery possible. But after much prayer and what they observed in Outremer the truth was revealed. Some magic was evil, like necromancy. But for most magic, it is the actions that determine if it is good or evil. And free will is a gift from God.

I hadn't thought of where magic comes from, I just guessed it was a natural force throughout the universe like air or ether. After all, some creatures are magic as well! But it seems sensible that at some level even the magic of pagans and non-believers if still powered by faith.

"Either way, if you are tired, or somehow spent, then we don't really need you to take to the air right now. We're following our back-track and shouldn't get lost very easily. There isn't much to see, for another, due to all the trees."
This message was last edited by the player at 11:45, Thu 29 Nov 2018.

"It sounds as if we need to camp if there are those short on resources, and plan our next move, though it sounds as if we have a good idea of such.  How far is this crossroad?"

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 61):

The Halfling thought for a moment,

"It was just a branch in the path that we were tracking the Saracens on. And it's over a day's travel from here."

Frederick thinks for a moment then answers Boris

It's not a so much a physical tiredness but a sense of drain. Most of the magic I use when weaving spells comes from the surroundings. But a small part comes from me. I have learned when I cam starting to near the end of my casting for the day. But I can easily cast my spell of flight and the safety spell on two people, with a couple of spells in reserve should we need them. I suggest we do this and get a good lay of the surrounding land.

In reply to Frederick (msg # 63):

Taking a step back, while the others are conversation and drinking his wineskin.

"Camp might be a good option.  We all could use some rest."

"Sire Frederick, then a cautious flight to take good lay of our surrounds and possibly locate a proper campsite would be appreciated."

Frederick nods to Hawkmoon

Who would like to accompany me to the skies? Preferably someone with a good memory and map making skills. We can both draw a rough map and compare them.

In reply to Frederick (msg # 66):

Boris looked doubtful.

"I have slept in the woods before, but am not skilled at map making. Plus... I'm not sure God intended me to fly as a bird!" He laughed nervously.

In reply to Boris Underhill (msg # 67):

Ondrea looked up at the sky and then at the surrounding woods before adding "Are we all keen on spending the night out in the wilds ? I am happy to if that is everyone's mind, but I fear wee might do more fighting then sleeping."

If it is decided to camp Ondrea will help looking for a suitable stop and then preparing the camp for the night.



-

In reply to Ondrea Avalor (msg # 68):

"I can go with you in the sky.  I am no map maker, but I have a memory like a steel trap.  It might be a rusty trap, but steel, still!  Just in case there is a nearby cave, or shelter of some kind. "

"Thank you for volunteering sire Applesmith, we are counting on you both."

Frederick nods to Stoney.

Brave fellow. Come to me and I will weave the threads around you to make you lighter than air.  You will need some concentration but not much. Just think where you want to go and the threads will take you there. Do not head skyward until I say to.  I will weave two sets of threads about you. One will give you feathers that will allow you to ride the winds much like the flying squirrel. The second will allow you to move upwards to the sky and any other direction.  When the feathers disappear, immediately move to me. The weaving on that spell are slightly shorter lived than those of the ability to fly. But only by a few minutes. Once the wings disappear, we will head to the ground, and I will exhaust the last of my weaving to insure we don't crash to the earth. Do you understand what I ask?

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 70):

"Well, now that you pout it that way, I don't  want that much pressure, but nothing a long drink of wine wont help cure!"

With that Stoney pulls out his wineskin, and takes a very, very long draw from it!

Frederick laughs and pulls a couple of feathers from inside his cloak.  He begins to wave the feathers in a pattern while speaking softly in a strange language. Stoney can fell the magic swirl about him and feathers begin to grow from his arms to his body and between his legs, until they form wing like structures.

Once they are formed Frederick continues his weaving and moving until Stoney begins to feel as though he no longer has contact with the earth. If he looks down he sees that his feet are no longer touching the ground.

Once this is completed Frederick does the same weaving for himself.

Now Stoney, just think about following me and you shall.
 Frederick makes a jumping motion with his arms down by his side and he heads off into the air, smooth and sleek, with Dinen Dal on his shoulder.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:08, Tue 04 Dec 2018.

In reply to Frederick (msg # 73):

Boris watched the proceedings with ambivalence, equal parts interest and fear. The Church allowed for the use of Magicks in the service of God's works, but this seemed somewhat ambiguous. The idea of flight did fascinate him but the thought of being so far off the ground without something solid to hang onto like a wall or roof beam made him a little queasy!

He crossed himself. "Ave Maria... I will pray for your safe return to Earth." HE got the feeling that he should instead be looking around for threats sneaking up on them in this accursed place but couldn't tear his eyes away from the liftoff of his friends.

"Sobering indeed."

He leans against a tree and pulls out his wine skin, takes a small hit and offers it to Stoney before he lifts off.

"Have a bit of this, sire Applesmith."

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 75):

With a large gulp, and a bit of astonishment, as to the drink was flavorful, Stoney "sprouts" wings, and is off with Frederik.

Not wanting to mess up the spell, since Stoney doesn't quit know how all magic works, he internalizes his thoughts.

_{"What a wonderful feeling!  It is so quiet up here"}

Once clear of the trees Frederick will turn and watch Stoney to make sure he is coping well. He remembers his first flight and from the look on Stoney's face, it is a pleasant experience for him.

Relax and enjoy Stoney. It's really as simple as walking, once you get used to it.

Frederick soars upwards then drops his concentration just enough to let the glide wings kick in. He didn't get to do this as much as he would like and was determined to enjoy himself a bit while they were up here.  He also keeps an eye out on the surroundings.

With your new lofty vision, all around you the spires of the mighty forest rise to meet your gaze.  The only area close that seems open is the swamps directly next to you.  Any other areas that appear open(?) are still some distance in any direction.
OOC: Going off the main map, you're located somewhere NE of Strangeport.  Closer towards the northern edge and somewhere near the center.

Ondrea: You're not that far in the slightest from the spot you camped at the first night, as well as the cave entrance.  You can still find another spot if you prefer, just thought it worth mentioning since you were actively searching for a site.

Frederick takes a good look around, his internal clock ticking off the time.  When they are near the 45 minute mark he motions to Stoney.

Well my friend, it is time to begin our descent. I can slow our fall should the spell wear off but it is not easy nor a pleasant experience for your first time. Simply concentrate on going down and down we shall go graceful as a hawk.

Frederick begins his descent with Dinan Dal riding on his back. He keeps an eye on Stoney in case of trouble.

She watches her friend and the new comer rise into the air with a strange look on her face. Before addressing those still on the ground. "So we have a couple of options for a camp site, the one we used last night or we could use the cave mouth ?"


-

In reply to Ondrea Avalor (msg # 80):

Stoney focuses on drifting downward.  trying not to think of falling, but gliding, until safely no the ground.

Boris thought it over.

"I guess it's safer at the cave mouth. We were attacked by those snake-deomons at our last camp. I don't like the idea of wasting the day but we're in no hurry I know of and I can do without being visited by nightmares outside my dreams!

"My suggestion is camp at the cave mouth."

The cave mouth works.  It gives us over head cover and only two ways for enemies to come at us. We can set soem defense inside the cave.

Once more you stare at the twisted, evil grimace of a mouth that forms the cave entrance.  A cold wind belches from the black maw and a shudder runs down your spines, recalling what had already been seen deep inside.  Even as you gaze at the majesty of the landscape before you, it becomes near impossible not to glance backwards in anticipation of something terrible.  From the position of the sun, you guess you probably have at least a few hours of sunlight left.

In reply to Frederick (msg # 83):

Boris glanced at the cave mouth, and grimaced. "I can't help feel there is something fell in there... remember, it is a shrine, a temple to some foul being for some evil purpose."

"I think I might prefer to camp in a more open place than that foul entrance."

He had recently left this, and seeing it again does not make him feel.. comfortable.

"But if that is what you all wish, then that is where we shall rest.  But, we do have some time left to find another place?"

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 86):

"I agree."
Tipping his one wineskin upside down, showing it is empty.
"The mouth of the cave does have an environmental advantage, but also anyone passing through will for sure see us.  If we are off to the side, a bit then we have a chance they would miss us."
Swinging his pack in front, and grabbing another wineskin, and taking a long intense sip.

"Whatever the decision lets make it quick I don't think we have the time on our side." She had a feeling they had already had this discussion once before. Either way she was eager to have a sit down and a rest.


-

I defer to the wisdom of those more acquainted with the outdoors. Perhaps we should find a place close by to camp and be vigilant during our rest.

"Indeed vigilant, sire Frederick, well said.  How far might we be from the last campsite of you, new friends?"

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 90):

"Several hours south of here. If we start now, we may make it before dark comes.

"Let's be off!"
This message was last edited by the player at 11:21, Tue 26 Feb 2019.

Hawkmoon adjusts his pack, looks to the others.

"Then let us make haste, good man."

He offers the smallfellowe a smile and a nod, then looks to the rest.

"We will remove ourselves from this source of evil, and hopefully our respite will be more restful."

Mayhap we might find a suitable location between the two locations. It would remove us from this foul place but save us steps when we return to investigate. For I feel that we have missed something.

"Well enough Sire Frederick, if we do, we do.  Let us be on our way."

A gesture to Boris.

"Sire Underhill, lead the way if you will."

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 94):

Sitting on the ground, now, sipping on his wineskin.
"Just tell me when we are leaving, or if I should unroll by blanket here."

In reply to Stoney Applesmith (msg # 95):

"We are leaving, my friend.

"I don't know if we should come back, we did search this place rather thoroughly.

"There was a fork in the path we followed to get here from Port Strange. I feel our quarry went up the other way. We should try the other path first, then return here some time later.

"We did find some books and scrolls inside. But not much more."

Boris reached down to give Stoney a hand up.

Frederick perks up when he hears books and scrolls.

What sort of books and scrolls?

Hawkmoon chuckles at how Frederick's attention is grabbed by mention of books and scrolls.

"Excellent, then let us make haste to a place less ominous for camping."

So the plan is to head back towards town and hope you make it before dark or are you actively searching for a campsite en route?

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 99):

OOC:  Either the old campsite or new campsite back on the way to that split in the path.

Searching for a new campsite, if we can find one.

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 99):

Boris is going to make for the previous campsite, the last one before reaching the caves.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:25, Wed 27 Feb 2019.

In reply to Boris Underhill (msg # 102):

Yep I am up for that as well.

In reply to Ondrea Avalor (msg # 103):

Stoney follows in tow to the new campsite.   Drinking and looking around at the plants, and surroundings.

If you remember, the first night you camped was pretty much at the base of the rock formation that the cave was part of.  It wasn't until morning, when the storm had cleared and the sun came out, that you were able to see the cave.  At least you had a pleasant night XD

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 105):

Boris leads them back to where the trail from Port Strange diverged.

OOC: I think the first night was when we fought the snake-skull things? We camped at the base of the bluff the next night. But it's not really important, we gotta camp somewhere!

Yes yes, good point.

From memory, the point of your original divergence was only a few miles away, easily attainable within a short time.  Thankfully, the intense heat previously experienced had now dissipated along with the storm.  The bugs, however, were still in a frenzy and as you drew nearer the southern head of the swamp, so too did their numbers increase.  Before long you were once more moving in odd, zigzag patterns in an attempt to avoid sinking into the muck.  Eventually a uniform firmness slowly begins to take hold and, if memory served, you were approximately at the point where the now long gone tracks had split.

So were we taking the other 'path' or continuing forward towards the town?

OOC: I sugesst at the split if we can

Could we make a campsite here good Sirs?

In reply to Frederick (msg # 109):

"I don't think we will find better in the time we have." Ondrea said. If the majority were in agreement she would set to making camp.


-

In reply to Frederick (msg # 109):

"Yes, this looks like the spot where the track diverged. Let's continue on up the other route. Tracks are long gone, of course, but the Saracens were following some kind of path, maybe a game trail, and so that's where we'll go.

"Friend Frederick, I agree with Ondrea and say we camp here. I recall that ahead on the other route, the one we did not take, it was more swampier. Less chance to find a viable campsite once we start on it."

He looked for a place to put his bedroll, then got to making camp, gathering wood and so on.

"Of course, we must set a watch. This is a quite accursed place! We were attacked by demons when we were here before. They were like snake skeletons... with human skulls where snake skulls should be!"

OOC: Sorry, I forgot to reply to the DM's last post.

In reply to Boris Underhill (msg # 111):

Hanging back, sipping on his wine Stone plops down near a tree.
"This looks like a good campsite."

Then he will also unroll his bedroll.

"I can take first watch."

Frederick looks around and finds a couple of trees the right distance apart. He takes his pack off and pulls out a hammock, which he stretches between the trees.

Much appreciated Sir Applesmith. I will take last watch if that is acceptable to everyone. If anyone has items that are broken or torn I can do a few small mendings before I sleep. Unless you wish me to hold what I have left in case of attack?

In reply to Frederick (msg # 113):

Boris said, "far be it for me to suggest, but do hold what you have at the ready, as it were. We were attacked in our slumber here a couple days ago. Evil lurks in the darkness here. My gear is fine, I do not know of anyone in need of tinkering.

"I shall take middle watch."

As the sun disappears, allowing the shadows to grow and ingest the world, so to does the onslaught of the ravenous insects dissipate.  The crack and pop and the fire soon replaces the constant drone of flying bugs, allowing a collective sigh of relief.  However, as the darkness becomes all encompassing, new, more terrifying sounds begin to emerge from the darkness.  Your campsite is both a curse and blessing.  Being so out in the open granted you a far better chance of seeing danger coming, but, in turn, it allowed anything wondering through the land to sight you in from some distance, especially with the flashing light of the fire dancing to and fro.

OOC: Any character conversations or actions before we move on through the night?

"I am available for any watch, I can split the middle with sire Underhill if he desires."


While on watch the paladin will be extending out his detection of evil radius regularly, though he will also use his eyes and ears... for it is not just evil that can harm you.

"I will be up early anyway so I can help with the last watch."


-

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 116):

"Thank you, Sir Albion." Boris wasn't sure if the armoured holy warrior was actually knighted but it didn't hurt to use the honourific anyways.

"Alas, I am not one of the breed of half-folk that can see in the dark. But let's anyways bank the fire so that there is no light to give away our encampment."

Frederick speaks to the whole group.

Are there two of you willing to keep watch all night?  I can assure that you  will not suffer from sleeplessness and that you will extra bonus to resist the effects of spells that might cause you to be sleep, or that might cause you to go against the group such as charm and suggestion and such. That will leave me with 3 spells in case we are awoken during the night and need to fight. And I assure you I can give a good accounting of myself with my cane.

In reply to Frederick (msg # 119):

"I have no quarrel if you are undisturbed. All the watches are covered."

So what is the post order for the evening?

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 121):

"I think splitting up watch is ok, that way you dont use up important memory space on a spell."

Correct me where it is wrong
Stoney
Boris
Albion
Ondrea

Frederick in wherever he prefers. 

In reply to Stoney Applesmith (msg # 122):

"For the eight hour period of rest, the four of us (Stoney, then myself, then Sir Albion and then Ondrea) will take a 2-hour watch. Frederick may get a full night's rest. As is the due of every magician!"

He was really joking about the last bit, he didn't mind and Frederick's getting a good rest being a boon to them all made sense.

In reply to Boris Underhill (msg # 123):

During Stoney's watch, and while he is camping he will pray to many different gods, none in particular.

Albion is alert and 'sensing evil' periodically.

He keeps the fire up, but sits outside it's light.

Frederick reaches into his pack and pulls out a loaf of bread.  He breaks it into 6 pieces and passes it to any who will take it.

I thank you for allowing me to rest tonight.  I will share my bread with you and we can perhaps forgo the need for a fire. My grandmother made this for me before I headed out. She said it would sustain me during wilderness travels. I gladly share it with you, my friends.

He takes his own piece and pulls off a small corner that he give to Dinen Dal. Dinen takes his piece and happily nibbles on it, enjoying the rare treat.

Once this meal is over, Frederick tucks into his bag in the hammock and is soon out.  Dinen will visit everyone who is on guard, and catch various insects around the camp.

In reply to Frederick (msg # 126):

Stoney gladly accepts a piece of bread.
"You know what goes good with bread, wine." He brings out how wineskin, wait who are we fooling, it was already out.  Takes a drink, and passes it along.

Hawkmoon accepts the morsel seriously.

"Thank you sire Frederick, a wish of shade and sweet water to you and your grandmother."

Hawkmoon tucks the morsel away for later, and will nibble upon it for watch.

"If we are on a game path, it is best we have a fire, else something stumble within us.  Otherwise, yes, a fire is not necessary."

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 128):

After eating a lot of bread.
"Oh I feel so full!  thanks for sharing, I feel like I ate a horse!"

Despite the unidentifiable sounds that seemed to come from all directions, a sort of calmness lightly swept through the air as the nights chill slowly closed its grip upon the land.  Stoney, as first watch, had a seemingly boring time of it, spending the majority of his watch lost in deep contemplation...was the glass half full or half empty?  So too did Boris' shift pass without incident.

In reply to Frederick (msg # 126):

When he accepted the wafer, he thanked Frederick. Eating it slowly, it reminded him a little of the communion wafer, but somehow more nourishing. He sipped a little wine, reminded again of Eucharist, and wondered if he would ever take mass again or confess his sins.

Near the end of his watch he moved to wake Albion. He still had a quarter-hour to go and hoped the paladin wouldn't mind his being awoken early.

"Sir Albion... 'tis I your humble servant, Boris. I do not wish to alarm you... but somehow I hear a faint voice. Calling or speaking, I know not what or from where. Do you think we should rouse the others?"

A gentle nod to Boris and Hawkmoon rises quietly and moves to wake the others, starting with Stoney, thinking he might very well be the most alert of them, then Ondria, and Lazandra, holding off on Frederick, since he rest was so prized, but kneeling near him in case.

"Be alert and ready my companions."

Ondrea rises silently and seems to have been sleeping lightly in the first place. She has her weapons at the ready and slowly turns her back to the middle of the camp peering out into the darkness.


-

Again, a faint, distant voice can be heard carried on the night breeze.  Those awake now hear it as well.  It's location is still uncertain, same with its source, but it almost sounds human, or perhaps demihuman at the very least.

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 134):

Stoney raises quickly, grabbing his hammer.  Listening intently to see where the sounds are coming from.
Then motions to Ondrea and whomever is close  to split up and hide in the shadows.  I assume Ondrea might want to sleep close to Stoney, since he is attractive,  or maybe vice-versa is the reality of it.  "Hide outside of the firelight, so we can suprise them if they come to our camp."


without much hesitation then Stoney tries to hide just out side of the light of the fire.  so if the sounds do come in he might have the element of surprise.

In reply to Stoney Applesmith (msg # 135):

Loading a bullet into his sling, Boris shrunk back into the shadows.

Frederick wakes to Dinen Dal giving him a mental push but he doesn't move. This was a practiced maneuver from years of camping with his familiar. He lays still in his hammock and listens. Upon hearing the voice he tries to pinpoint location and direction.  He also tries to understand what they are saying.

Ondrea listened to the others but did not add to the conversation. She tried to orientate herself to the voice so she could get an idea what direction it was coming from.

She then just sat and listened trying to catch the odd word if she could or to try and see if the speaker was in distress.


-

Hawkmoon stands alert outside the close circle of the firelight, his back to the fire and looking outward as best he can, his sword drawn and drawing on his senses to "Detect Evil".

Seconds pass at an agonizingly slow pace.  Breathlessly you wait until once again the voice resounds, closer, clearer...a gentle, feminine voice becomes just audible...

"Hello?  Micheal, is that you?"

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 140):

Stoney stays as still as he can, trying to hide in the shadows.  Waiting until he can see whom is out there, or how many.

Frederick begins to quietly weave his magic. First, the campfire dwindles down to nothing more than coals. Then anyone watching him sees him there one moment and gone the next. Finally, the weight is lifted from his hammock and it hangs as if there is no one laying in it.

Frederick will rise about 30' in the air and see if he can spot the source of the voice.

Din Dal scrambles over to Ondrea and clambers up to her shoulder.  He mimics Frederick walking with his staff, then points to a spot in the sky.

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 140):

Boris found the voice incongruous and unnerving. Dropping back, he also sought the safety and concealment of the shadows. He paid attention to the opposite direction, lest this be a ruse to attract their attention!

The gentle voice continued to resonate around the camp.  It was without a doubt a female voice and, with the lowering of the firelight, seems to have disoriented her as she continues to roam in a circle around you (or so it would seem from her calls moving about).

"Dammit Micheal, stop playing!  I'm scared, just stop already."

Having apparently not detected a source of evil Hawkmoon moves to a place of relative space that would allow him use of his unlimbered sword, probably towards the coals of the fire.

"There is no Michael here. Who might you be?"  He says as he prepares the sword.

Someone had to end this, he figured.  His blade in ready and him in stance for it her continues.

"I am the Crusader named Hawkmoon by Mayaheine."

Ondrea waits for any reply from the voice as she still tries to get a bearing on where it is coming from.


-

My apologies...I saw neither of these two responses for some reason.

The voice again cries out, closer this time...

"He...hello?  Who...who's there?  I'm warning you, my brother is a very skilled wizard."

The voice continues to rise as it draws closer.  The sound appears to be emanating from the west as it moves slowly towards you.

"You better not be a bandit of some kind.  Why do you keep no fire?"

"Our fire was doused when strange voices came to us in mid-night as most of us slumbered.  We ill trust anything in this cursed place."

A glance in the direction he suspects Frederick to be.

"Sire Frederick, shed wholesome light upon our guest please."

Hawkmoon remains out of hopefully where the light will center, backing slightly from the campfire as he does not wish to be target of opportunity for arrows.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:07, Wed 03 Apr 2019.

A small rustle can be heard to the east.  It passes very quickly before falling silent once more.

"How do you think I feel out here alone?"

Frederick will take one of his light balls, turn his back to where the voice appears to be coming from, and twist it so that the top is merely laying on it.  Then he will turn and toss it in the direction of the voice, so that the top falls off as it travels or when it hits the ground.

In reply to Frederick (msg # 150):

Judging from where the voice was coming from, Boris carefully moved around to the right to try and cover Frederick. A bullet was loaded in his sling. If their attention was focused on the voice someone else could be sneaking up behind them as well. Someone else would need to worry about that for the moment as he was covering Frederick.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:14, Sat 06 Apr 2019.

Hawkmoon tries to shield his eyes from the ball as it falls to shield his night vision, while trying to get a look at whoever.. or whatever.. is out there.

Ondrea stayed in place but slightly orientated her body towards the voice. Then she waited to see what would come from this.

-

How much light does something like that cast roughly?

As the lighted ball sails through the air and into the grass several yards away, a high pitched shout or yell briefly rips through the still night air.  There is some heavy rustling of brush and undergrowth...

"Now you're throwing fireballs at me?!  What kind of evil people are you?!"

The pitch of the voice had elevated but remained steady and calm.

The paladin does not seem amused, or at least his voice.

"Companions... focus on other than this trickster, this may be a diversion."

He focuses on the apparent source of the voice.

"You plainly heard me ask for wholesome light.  Do not play me to be a fool, milady.. or whatever you are.  That is a simple light spell and no fire, and the harder you avoid it the more convinced I become that this is a charade.  Step into the light and reveal yourself."

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 156):

Stoney stays hidden as best he can.  Like usual, when you play hide and seek, he now has to use the bathroom, and is apparently breathing very heavily!  Trying not to focus on the pressure building, he remains still, and tries to focus on his breath.

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 156):

Boris stopped moving up on the left and ducked into the shadows. He had also had the thought that the voice might be a diversion. But he was not intent on attacking with his sling until it was proved there was a threat.

"Yes...people say lots of things and then do the opposite.  I'm no fool.  Besides, I know nothing of magic.  Am I to guess what you are doing?"

There is a silent pause just long enough for your ears to retrain upon the unseen creatures of the night, belting out a chorus of odd sounds.

"Fine.  If I must be the first..."

From just outside of the light, a figure begins to emerge from the shadows and growth.  The form of a woman begins to appear and tepidly steps into the light.  Keeping herself a small distance from the orb itself, she stands roughly at human height, with features that appeared the same.  She is dressed plainly, no armor or arms to speak of save for a tree limb she holds in her right hand.

"Does this satisfy you?", she calls in a sarcastic tone.

As she steps into the light, from roughly across from her Hawkmoon does as well, showing himself.

"Sire Frederick, allow the camp light again please."

He bows slightly to the lady, though his eyes do not drop.

"Come to the fire, Milady.  We are not from this land and it has been curiously malicious, so caution has been our guide.  I am known as Hawkmoon, Crusader of Mayaheine.  Tell me of yourself as much as you wish, and I will see if we have any tea or food left over from dinner if you so wish to be welcomed to our humble camp."

Frederick allows the campfire to spring back to life, but stays in the air and invisible for the moment. He will have Dinen Dal find the cap for the light and put it back on the half globe. Then he will keep watch in the darkness around the camp for other movement.

Cautiously, the young woman begins walking forward.  With each step she hesitated, her head tilting slightly from side to side.

I am called Galia.  Something warm to drink would be nice, it sure has gotten cold out here."

Her pace quickens slightly but the head continued to rock, as if she was straining to hear something.

Hawkmoon's blade drops to his side, still in his hand but no longer appearing to be threatening.

He moves at an even pace to the fire and fetches the pot, pouring some of what is left into his own cup and holding it out with his left hand.

"Why does you head move so..  Lady Galia?  Do you hear something?"

Ondrea takes the opportunity to move around the edge of the camp to the back of the new arrival, there she stands and waits as questions are asked about the woman's demenier.

-

In reply to Ondrea Avalor (msg # 164):

Boris liked this less and less. The swamp was evil and a abode of Satan. Evil things attacked them before, he sincerely doubted some innocent maiden was simply out and about on a nightly stroll. The presence of the light disturbed her somehow, and perhaps he sensed there were others there in the darkness behind her.

Reaching down he replaced the bullet in his sling with a stone. Then he whirled it around and launched it at the bushes and darkness behind the woman to the left. If there were companions of hers in there he wondered if he could flush them out or startle them. Either way he was halfway convinced they should drive this being away for their own safety.

01:48, Today: Boris Underhill rolled 11 using 1d20.  To-hit with sling stone.

In reply to Boris Underhill (msg # 165):

Stoney still trying to stay still.   He silently waits to see how this all unfolds.

Reaching forward she takes the offered cup and takes a few deep sniffs.

"Thank you, it smells wonderful.

She takes a brief sip before locating a downed log and slowly settling onto it.

"I'm trying to find my brother.  He went out to play several hours ago and we haven't been able to find him.
I keep hoping if I stop and listen, maybe I could hear him."

"I see, and where might you be from Lady Galia that finds you in this swamp searching for your brother?"

His tone is now soft and gentle, as if he is buying her story... but his sword is still in his hand, loosely pointed to the ground.  His attention is not wavering from her, however.

She points eastward, indicating a direction more or less running to the right of the swamp.

"Our village lies a small distance away, resting upon the southern edge of the forest.  We're told not to come around this area but, well, boys being boys, he's not much for being told what to do."

Frederick follows her pointing with his eyes, trying to remember where the village he and Hawkmoon found themselves in was located.

She is not pointing towards that direction.

"I am afraid it may not be wise to wander about in the dark, Lady Galia.  Would you care to partake of our fire until dawn?"

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 172):

Stoney now reeling with the pressure building up.  He breaks his silence, and moves further from the fire, as quietly as he can.  He needs to urinate, from all the alcohol, drinking.  Finds a spot a bit away, and proceeds to go to the bathroom.

"I agree wholeheartedly but what about my brother?  He'd never survive out here on his own."

A sad note to his voice.  "I am hoping that he stays put during the night, and when the dawn comes efforts to find him may prevail.  Wandering around in the dark in a place like this calling attention to yourself rarely turns out well."

He nods slightly.

"We might be able to help, come dawn."

Frederick will gently ease himself to the ground some 20 feet from the newcomer, in the shadows. Then he will seek to explore her surface thoughts with his own.

Her eyes lock on Frederick as he floats downward.

"Now that's a really neat trick!"

She almost seems to forget her predicament for a moment, until a wave of sadness seems to adhere once more.

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 175):

Remaining a short distance away, Boris listened skeptically. For someone living on the verge of an accursed swamp she seemed far too naive and unwary. After all, anyone smart would find a place to hide until dawn. Instead, they just happened to be nearby when she decided to start singing.

"So...where did you come from?  In case you can't tell, this isn't exactly a hot bed of homesteading.  Passing through to some place?"

"I am from the land of the Free City of Greyhawk, and I know not where it lies from here."

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 180):

Stoney starts to head back to camp.  Not hearing any metal clanking, indicative of a battle, he thinks it is relatively safe, and posts back where he was.
Just outside the campfire, and in eyesight of the figures at the campfire.  Making out figures is easy, but faces against the light is difficult.  He does not recognize the new girl, but she looks fairly nonthreatening, but then again some of the most powerful mages appear feeble, and weak.  He continues to stay as hidden as he can.

"I've always dreamed of seeing one of those big cities with all the people and food and things happening!  It must be really boring for you out here."

Gingerly she continues to sip upon the offered drink.

A slight shake of his head.

"Anything but that, milady.  Disturbing and dangerous is what I have seen so far, and far too much evil for my taste."

Frederick continues to try to read the woman as they talk. He speaks softly to her.

What do you know of the deserted village a few hours walk from here?

"Ahh now I see why you're out here!"

She slaps her knee and let's out a deep, creaky laugh that sounds too old for someone so young.

"You're chasing after that treasure!  I'm telling you, no one has ever found anything of the sort."

PM

In reply to David Von Ersch (msg # 186):

Stoney in the shadows, now gets thirsty.  A never quenched thirst that tugs at him from the inside.  He pops open his wine skin, takes a drink, all while watching the group interact near the fire, and looking around for any surprises.
Quietly to himself.
_{"I dont like this place."}

Frederick cocks his head to one side and contemplates her for a moment.

I'm not sure what treasure you refer to. We were in the abandoned village earlier today and there seems to be strange magic afoot in that place. I was simply wondering if you knew anything about the place.

While waiting for her reply Frederick reaches inside his cloak and pulls out a small piece of fine copper wire and begins to fiddle with it.

"Well there's only one village in this area that's abandoned so it has to be the same one.  Never heard of the treasure story, huh?  Seems odd to trek all the way there simply to have a look.  Are you sure you're not going after that stupid legend?  If you're worried about me horning in on it, I don't believe such a thing exists so there'd be nothing for me to gain from it."

Frederick calls Dinen Dal to him and picks the ferret up. He acts as though he is whispering to the ferret.


Once he is done speaking with Dinen he turns back to the lady.

Actually, I awoke there after being surrounded by a fog in my home land, some distance from here. I know nothing of this land or its people.

"And the same of myself, milady.  Do tell of this tale, treasure interests me less than information."

"Really now? Just appeared there?  Well now that is something new, I must say.  Don't actually get many strangers to be honest."

With her drink exhausted, she places the cup on the ground beside her.

"That old wives tale?  No one really knows how the story began.  Something to do with teleporting  somewhere else...it changes a lot.  The old women tell all the boys about it to keep them from coming back here.  They tell them the treasure is guarded by some monster and once there, he never lets them return."

Her voice takes on a darker, almost crone like sound as she finishes.  She gives you a queer, impish smile before breaking into laughter.

In reply to Frederick (msg # 190):

Boris nodded, then addressed the woman.

"Well. We do not seek this place, I assure you. And it is getting late. We wish you luck in your search, but it is too late tonight to continue. We hope you have a safe trip home. Good night and have a safe trip."

He placed his hand on his dagger and raised his eyebrow.

"Mayhap this is the place there is no return from, this land."

She let's out another one of those scratchy, creaky laughs...

"Well you wouldn't be the first to make such a suggestion."

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 195):

Thoroughly believing this was not a young woman, nor someone they should trust, Boris considered drawing his short sword and stabbing her, just to get this over with. But the Paladin didn't seem to share his suspicion and Boris didn't care for his odds if he had to defend himself against his friend coming to her aid.

"I shall leave you to your pleasant conversation, Albion. One doesn't often get the chance to converse with a demoness or succubus in a social way. Do let me know when you want this charade to end, I shall be over by the camp. Do not let her close, if you please."

That said he did not wait for a response, he disappeared into the shadows.

PM

Frederick bends down and scratches Dinen behind the ears.

Hawkmoon nods absently, even though Boris would have used the name "Hawkmoon" (LOL, he has never given the name Albion.. I know, I am a bad person).

He smiles thinly at the "young lady".

"Oh and why might that be, fair maiden?"

His sword by this point was almost resting point down upon the earth, but the handle still within his right hand, though he did use his left for various things.  As a man of the Bastard Sword, he rarely wore more than a buckler upon his left arm.

PM

Frederick stands and sits Dinen on his shoulder, then speaks thru the message as if talking to Dinen.



Frederick turns and moves so that he faces both the woman.

Hawkmoon smiles faintly and concentrates upon the power granted to him by Pelor, the power to sense evil.  He extends it out, and the 'lady' is well within the range.

In reply to Frederick (msg # 201):

Boris had a feeling of impending dread. Obviously, the woman was evil, and the crusaders of Outremer could sense such things. But the crusaders of this place perhaps could not, or perhaps Hawkmoon chose not to. Either way, he felt it was unwise to stay near the rebuilt fire to await whatever approached. "For the love of Christ, prepare yourselves, my friends." With that, he sought the concealment of the shadows to hide him until it was time to strike.

In reply to Boris Underhill (msg # 203):

Stoney feels the urge to stay hidden.  Not sure why or what is compelling him, but he doesn't feel comfortable with this new lady.

The young woman began watching as the group refocused their attention.  Slowly, she began to stand up, a look of worry drawing across her face.

"What...what is it?  Why is everyone looking around?  Is there something out there?"

Hawkmoon....may have had a misunderstanding with the Powers That Be

Boris, having heard the distant yowls, realises where he heard those cries last. It was during the attack by the Saracens on Port Strange. Funny, they had spent all this time going the other direction looking for the Saracens. And here they were, coming for them, as if they were merely waiting for them to show up. Having found a place in the shadows Boris considered his tactical options, deciding to draw his short sword and strike from behind or in the flank should the opportunity present.

PM

Hawkmoon nods slightly to the lady, and his features soften some.
"I know not what truth you speak, milady, but I feel no evil intent from thee."
He says it loudly enough that his companions might hear.  He makes no attempt to address her cackling, as that would be rude.  Either the lady is hiding her age somehow, or is giving a preview of how she will be when aged, both would be impolite to mention.. with EVIL ruled out.
"I would hold near the fire for now, though, milady.  It seems there may be something out there hunting us... or you.  The darkness is often allied with evil, for rarely does it wish to show itself until it is too late."

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 208):

PM

Frederick stays in the shadows, out of the firelight so he doesn't cause his night vision to be lessened. He continues to watch the direction Dinen Dal does and speaks.

How old is your son Mi'lady? And how long has he been missing?

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 209):

From somewhere in the darkness, Boris hissed loud enough for his comrades to hear, "the Saracens... I hear them in the darkness, they are coming!" Surely the others could hear them! Or was it only him? Was he going mad?

At the mention of other "visitors" Ondrea readied herself for the assault. Getting low she tried to pinpoint their approach and to pick up the noises Boris was hearing.

-

In reply to Ondrea Avalor (msg # 212):

Stoney, also has his hammer out, trying to stay low, lower than a halfling already is, and in the shadows.

As you stand in the darkness, senses tuned, a sound begins to arise in the distance.  It is faint at first but grows steadily louder and more distinct.  It is high pitched but with an aspect of animal.

"It was my brother, he's been out here since this afternoon."

Ondrea/Stoney: Can I have Intelligence checks please

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 214):

Ondrea Avalor rolled 14 using 1d20.  Intelligence = 12.


-

PM

Frederick shakes his head and continues to watch the darkness.

Ma'am, what information can you give us about your son so he doesn't get hurt when we all find each other.

The sounds continue to grow in strength and pitch, drawing closer towards your area, you're certain of it.  It is unmistakably beast but of what origin you still cannot be certain.

The young woman begins to stand now, the sound having reached her ears.  A look of worry begins to spread across her features.

"We need to leave this place now."

What is it ma'am? What is out there?

"I don't know what they are called but they are not to be trifled with.  Many men from my village have lost there lives trying to face them."

The beasts' howls began to echo off the not-so-distant forest as their cries bounced amongst the trees.

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 220):

Stoney's eye start daring to where the sounds are coming from.  He fears height hide in shadows from a woman, but these beasts have keener senses.
Able to muster enough courage, he stays put for now.

Albion nods slightly, watching the girl rather than worrying about what is out there and drawing nearer.

"Running may only draw attention to yourself.  Tell us, do these fell beasts have any weakness you know of?  Do they only hunt at night?  If so, an abundance of light may make them less powerful."

He sounds reasonably sincere, not knowing exactly how she and this might be linked.  He knew.. or thought soundly that she was not evil, but he was in cautious mode.. for what was right and what was wholesome was not of this place and time.

"I know of no such weakness they possess.  They are slaves to their master and will follow his will till death."

"Master?  Who might that be?"

"These beasts are not wild creatures but are controlled by another.  Who I could not say but their will is not their own.  They seek whatever their master seeks."

"You seem to know a lot about them, other than what they are called.  What do the villagers call them?"

"We simply call them sent ones as they always have a mission.  I urge you, you should find somewhere safer to hide.  They see well in the dark and some claim they can smell even better."

"Do you have a better location in mind?"

"I fear we may not make it any place we could hide out.  Perhaps if we split up.  Spread out in a fan they wouldn't be able to track all of us at once."

The sound of snapping and splintering wood has now joined the demonic chorus of howls as the unseen creatures draw ever closer.

"That sounds like a very bad idea to me."

The knight's blade rises to a full ready position and as the firelight catches it an unnatural blue light is reflected.
He backs a little out of the firelight so he can look across the lighted area, and keep an eye on the woman.

"A Crusader of Mayaheine is not a common foe, milady, and the light of Pelor reinforces my resolve.  Companions, I will be the focus... ready the defense!"

Frederick moves in close to Hawkmoon, but firmly behind him. He takes 4 of the light balls from his pocket and unscrews them to prepare them for tossing.

Prepare for light, Companions of the Mist.

After giving a moment, the tosses one each of the balls in the 4 cardinal directions, intent on placing each one roughly 30-40 feet from the party. With a 60 foot radius that should allow for plenty of light.

In reply to Frederick (msg # 231):

Now it proves more difficult for Stoney to stay hidden in the dark, with all this light.
He tries to remain hidden.

Sorry I am not doing much, just scared, so I figured it wold be best to stay hidden.

Alright, let me just get a quick census as to where everyone is located so I can knock up a really crude and ugly map.

Albion is trying to face towards the noise, with the firelight between him and it, hoping it is not a ruse.

"Lady, come closer to me... and companions... Within close range of myself my presence is a foil to evil and Pelor's light shall offer some protection if evil this is!"

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 234):

Stoney being of a man of the cloth so to say, understands what his companion is saying.  Certain holy warriors of Pelor, and other Gods do bolster morale to their companions while they are in near proximity.
Not one to tempt fate, unless a bottle is nearby, Stoney steps from the shadows to get a better proximity to his holy friend, and belts out for all to hear, including the creatures closing in.
"He tells the truth. Warriors of Pelor can easily smite evil and vile creatures.  Beware creatures of the darkness, you are about to meet your un-creator!"
Now nearer to the camp, with his back to the fire.  Hammer in hand he is bouncing, preparing himself for a fight!

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 234):

Unseen as he is, Boris considered staying hidden in the shadows. He was close enough to hear what was going on, and it sounded like the Saracens might be able to sense his presence anyways. He didn't like the light, but it somehow gave him comfort.

He stepped into the lighted area, brandishing his sling. "Friend Albion, it is obvious that although you do not profess to be a Christian the Pelor you serve is a powerful god, good and holy. Let us stand together and face whatever is coming for us!"

Ok, you'll find a new map under 'Map 1'.  It's ugly as hell but gives you basic idea of where things stand.  The letters correspond to each of your names with 'W' being the unknown woman you've been speaking with.  The arrow is indicating the creatures movement path, although they have not directly engaged you (still a small distance off).  Let me know if you need to change anything or if you're ready to move forward on this.

The maddening howls of the unknown beasts begin to bounce over you with shock waves.  Listening intently, you hear the cracking and splintering of wood and brush give way to the sickening sounds of moisture and dirt.  Something, or more rightly several things, have broken free from the forest line and entered the swamp.  You turn and face the direction of the sound, peering intently into the darkness in a failed attempt to spy that which approaches.

The howls grow into a fevered pitch, more excited and urgent, the cries reach a painful level of tone.  With a large *SPLASH* the first comes into view, illuminated by Fredericks' lighted ball...



Their skin is the color of a sickened yellow, similar to phlegm, and glistens in the glowing light.  You try your best to count their numbers as they quickly dart through the light towards your group.  At the rear, or what you assume to be the end of the train, you see a lone, dark, mounted figure following behind them.  As it moves closer towards the light, you can see the form of a man, pale and gaunt looking but his mount...was that of a half-rotted horse.  The majority of its flesh had long since vanished and what remained appeared slimy and dripping, like bloated fish found along a shoreline.

Initiative, if you all please.  Those going with ranged attacks get this first round on the house as your opponents do not appear to be wielding anything missile based.

13:17, Today: Albion Hawkmoon rolled 3 using 1d20+1.  Initiative, with +2 Dex Modifier.  (Should be a 4!)

Hawkmoon readies himself, delaying his action until the beasts clear.

Holding action on a beast closing in melee range, should change his initiative to preempt theirs next turn, means he gives up this turn to do so.  If it still works that way.



AC: 0 (-1 w shield)
HP: 75/75
Weapon: Bastard Sword +1
THAC0/WS/Damage: ?/?/SM/LG 1d8/1d12 (1H) or 2d4/2d8 (2H) +1

This message was last edited by the player at 14:09, Fri 10 May 2019.

OOC: This should be interesting
     Initiative: 12


A dark voice from the distance "Ithikitalkus moiparran tsaran igira igira !" coming from the ominous dark figure speared by the creatures that threw themselves towards the fire, into the light.

In reply to David Von Ersch (msg # 240):

Stoney who is closer to the woman, had his hammer out, and ready.  Ready for the woman to do something strange, stranger than wandering this swamp alone.
With the sounds and sight of the sickening beasts, Stoney starts to believe the woman.

"Stay back, beasts."  He yells walking closer to the woman to try to protect her.

Ondrea Avalor rolled 8 using 1d20.  Initiative.

Ondrea let fly with an arrow at the closest beast to her position.

Ondrea Avalor rolled 7 using 1d20+3.  Attack.

Before putting it on the ground and preparing to engage with her hammer.


-

16:27, Today: Frederick rolled 11 using 1d20.  Initiative.

Frederick reaches into a pocket inside his cloak and pulls out a tiny ball consisting of bat guano and sulphur. He weaves his fingers to draw in the necessary magic from the area, then points toward the incoming creatures and speaks the arcane words he was taught. Finally he says the most important part.


Mundi magica arma vocat ignem inimicis meis


Then he points his finger towards the creatures and says

Pedes XXX V pedes

A thin spot of flame streaks from his finger to a spot 30 feet from where he stands and 5 feet off the ground. It then blossoms into a huge ball of flame than covers 20 feet of area centered where the streak exploded, hopefully enguling several of the creatures.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:08, Thu 09 May 2019.

In reply to Frederick (msg # 243):

Saying a quick prayer, "Ave Maria!" Boris fired off a sling bullet at one of the attackers, then drew his sword.

AC: 5 (Leather plus Shield)
HP: 36/36
Weapon: Short Sword
THAC0/WS/Damage: 18/3/1d6, 1d8.

21:45, Today: Boris Underhill rolled 10 (adjusted 13) using 1d20.  +3 To Hit Sling.

22:55, Today: Boris Underhill rolled 15 using 1d20.  Initiative .

Ondrea and Boris loose their projectiles but the creatures are moving far too erratically and their respective shots miss their marks.  Bracing for the impact, you watch in horror as a legion of rats begins to swarm upon the twisted creatures.  As the rodents begin to run over top the creatures, they appear unfazed and continue racing towards you.  Suddenly, a giant flash of light and heat erupts, giving you your first good look at the grotesque, sickly abominations, as Fredericks' fireball detonates, sending three of the beasts skyward (along with several dozen rats).  They crash into the unseen brush and shadows as the rest hurl themselves toward you.  Meanwhile, the young woman, panic burned into her face, has turned heel and started bolting in the opposite direction.  Due to the fire and Fredericks' light balls, she's still visible.

lol, future note, initiative is a d10 but it's all good, no need to change it now.  I rolled for Stoneys' initiative as well as the fireball damage (although you can certainly roll your own damage in the future).  I'm assuming Stoney is holding his attack, same as Albion, for the next round.  FYI - you're looking to hit AC 4
Attack Order:
1)     Albion
2)     Stoney
3/4) Ondrea/Monsters (Tie)
5)     Frederick
6)     David
7)     Boris

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 245):

Ondrea brings her hammer in a curve over her shoulder and down onto one of the beasts that are composed of teeth. If she is able she will split her attack between two of the creature if not she hammer a single monster into the ground.

Ondrea Avalor rolled 21 using 1d20+6.  Attack 1.
Ondrea Avalor rolled 24 using 1d20+6.  Attack 2.

Ondrea Avalor rolled 16 using 2d4+10.  Damage 1.
Ondrea Avalor rolled 15 using 2d4+10.  Damage 2.


-

(6) As a legion of rats swarm out of the ground to envelop the evil that was upon those that stood before them it was a surprise to David to see a bright flash rise up and devour the darkness. licking the edges of the skins of those that were unfortunate. Smiling, coughing up some blood David kept his focus upon the swarm. At the very least he could do from this angle was to slow them down before it was time for those that he 'found' to do the rest.

And so, for now .. all he did was to hold his hand into the darkness ontop a horse, that should not have been standing where he was right now. Letting out a soft chuckle .. "Eat .. eat"


OOC: Keep up concentration on the swarm, or .. whats left of it Hahahaa

The Paladin waits with his Bastard Sword ready to chop the first beast within range of him, swinging hard with a two handed stroke the moment the time comes.  Unfortunately his timing is just off, causing a miss.




Evil Creatures suffer a -1 penalty to attacks in Hawkmoon's presence to a ten foot radius.


11:26, Today: Albion Hawkmoon rolled 10 using 1d20+1.  Attack beasts AC 4, need an 11.


AC: 0 (-1 w shield)
HP: 75/75
Weapon: Bastard Sword +1
THAC0/WS/Damage: 15/?/SM/LG 1d8/1d12 (1H) or 2d4/2d8 (2H) +1

In reply to Albion Hawkmoon (msg # 248):

"Lady stay here, by the rest of us.  We stand a better chance together!"
Swinging his hammer at the nearest creature, if one comes in his proximity.

He raises his hammer, and swings wildly in the air.
Not sure if what he saw was a shadow or a real beast, he tries to not look too embarrassed.

Seeing the figure on the undead horse at the rear of this blighted creatures using gestures that suggest a spell caster, Frederick weaves the magic of the world into bright darts of power and sends them springing across the gap between the group and the necromancer.

Just need to know what Boris is doing, but he's at the tail end so not of super urgency.

Ondrea...out of curiosity, what is your current HP?

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 251):

Boris wondered about where these rats were coming from, and why they were attacking the abominations. He also noted the figure lurking at the rear of the swarm. But he figured he also had better things to do. Fixing his buckler on one arm he drew his short sword and prepared to chop any of the horrors that came close. "Frederick, do you think that one at the back is commanding the rats to attack these things? Could he be helping us?"

AC: 5 (Leather plus Shield)
HP: 36/36
Weapon: Short Sword
THAC0/WS/Damage: 18/3/1d6, 1d8.

02:32, Today: Boris Underhill rolled 20 using 1d20.  To-Hit Short Sword. Nice!

02:33, Today: Boris Underhill rolled 1 using 1d10.  Next Turn Initiative.

Boris:  Real quick, on the map, which direction did you head?  I have you at the back of the group and none of the attackers have made their way to your spot (I'll update the map shortly as I resolve this first round).  Just need to know where you headed towards in relation to the fire (red dot in the middle) and the others so I can determine who you're dealing with.

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 253):

Boris moved to the left of the fire to protect and intercept anyone coming in on that flank.

As the creatures reach the group, they break ranks, filtering around to either side; the majority favoring the right side (of the map).  With Ondrea at the helm, she bears the weight of the initial assault.  The horde drives forward and she delivers two measured and lasting blows; the sound of cracking bone mixes with the howls and screeches.  Immediately, the two foes, joined by a third, dog pile on Ondrea, clawing and scratching at her face and neck.  In the chaos, one manages to latch its claws into her shoulder and begins to bear down upon her neck with it's massive, razor-sharp teeth.  Darting to the left, another one runs head long into Albion but manages to dance around his attack.  As it prepares to launch upon him, Boris charges forth and skewers the beast on his sword.  While still alive, it is very much weakened, yet it continued to thrash around (causing further damage to itself) and howl in frustration and rage.  Frederick unleashes a volley of magic missiles which crackle through the dark night, brilliantly exploding upon impact with his target.  Meanwhile, the bulk of the force veered right, apparently giving chase to the young girl as three peel off in the direction she ran.  Stepping in, Stoney takes a mighty swing, missing all three beasts completely, but catching the attention of at least one which breaks from the pack to turn upon Stoney.  It swings its blackened talons but fails to land a single strike.

Ondrea: You are not constrained but are slowly being overwhelmed by the combined strength of the three attacking you.

David: Let me have an Agility check as you attempt to stay mounted.

I have updated the map to show roughly where everything has lined up.  The black stars are the creatures and any with a red line through them have already taken damage.

Waving hands, and concentrating on the rats overwhelming the creatures seemed nearly futile. There was no real response as if the bites and scratches did not harm them. Cursing foul words David nearly forgot to hold on and had to grab hold of some of the rotten flesh to stay on the horse (Roll 12) cursing the swamp and the stench David smiles as he keeps one foul minion in mind and whispers words that should not be said

"logorrhea .." His hand reached from a distance onto the throat of a minion and closed itself. Seemingly choking the life out of the poor thing.

Letting the concentration on the swarm go, some rats that were still alive would crawl further. Gnawl on the bones still for a few more moments (5 rounds)

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 255):

Impressed and a little surprised at his lucky shot, Boris figured it was wise to keep slashing while the creature was wounded. He tried to jerk his shortsword free and commence slashing and chopping for all he was worth! Getting the sword free took a little longer than he thought...

His strike missed.

16:55, Today: Boris Underhill rolled 9 using 1d10.  Initiative. WS +3

16:58, Today: Boris Underhill rolled 11 using 1d20 ((11)).


AC: 5 (Leather plus Buckler with +2 DEX Adjustment)
HP: 36/36
Weapon: Short Sword
THAC0/WS/Damage: 18/3/1d6, 1d8.

This message was last edited by the player at 06:32, Sat 18 May 2019.

Hawkmoon moves with the force and swings again at the nearest, almost overextending to connect.

(Hit, 7 points damage)



19:45, Today: Albion Hawkmoon rolled 11 using 1d20+1.  Attack beasts AC 4, need an 11.

19:48, Today: Albion Hawkmoon rolled 7 using 2d4+1.  Damage 2H bastard.

AC: 0 (-1 w shield)
HP: 75/75
Weapon: Bastard Sword +1
THAC0/WS/Damage: 15/?/SM/LG 1d8/1d12 (1H) or 2d4/2d8 (2H) +1

Ondrea gives another swing and tries to use the momentum to dislodge one or two of her attackers in the process. She will aim for one of the ones she damaged previously as she bring the head of her hammer down on the beast.

Ondrea Avalor rolled 13 using 1d20+6.  Attack.
Ondrea Avalor rolled 15 using 2d4+10.  Damage.


-
This message was last edited by the player at 05:49, Sun 26 May 2019.

In reply to Ondrea Avalor (msg # 259):

As the beasties seem to be numerous, Stoney knows there is hope!  "Stop lady, stay near me, and the rest of us!  There is strength in numbers!"  He yells to the girl that ran, as he gives chase to try and protect her.  While running he passes one of the beasts, his hammer swings wildly, with the head skimming some flesh off.  Not a good direct hit, and probably the beast didn't even notice. Unfortunately his sights are engulfed with the lady, and didn't notice his friend Ondrea become overwhelmed.


Hit AC 8, if its a hit 2 damage

Frederick moves and turns to get a clear shot at the pack that is chasing the woman they were talking to. He reaches into his cloak and pulls out a small vial containing some powder that is multicolored. He pours it into his hand as he mutters the arcane words that help draw the magic from the world, then cups his hand together and blows thru them. A fan of colors sprays from his hand in a wedge shape that starts at his hands and goes for 20 feet. The end of the wedge also covers 20 feet, with the intervening area covers to a depth of 5 feet. He tries to catch as many of the creatures as possible in the spray, without catching any of the party.

With the screeching creature impaled upon Boris' blade, Albion makes quick work of it as Boris tears it apart from within.  It collapses to the ground with a heavy thud, limp and lifeless; a thick, green ichor flowing from the wound.  As Ondrea desperately attempts to break free, managing to bring her hammer down into the skull of one, she spies in hopelessness as three more creatures have joined the dog pile upon her (the three that have just come into view were the three previously blown into the air by Frederick's fireball.  They are clearly badly injured but there combined weight and strength is still tremendous).  Within seconds, the horde overwhelms her.  Only one remains moving.  It appears to be struggling to move forward, even collapsing to it's knees at one point yet still trying to pull itself forward.  Meanwhile, Stoney gives chase as the creatures tear into the black growth after the woman.  As he reaches one of the creatures, overwhelming it somehow in a footrace, he takes a quick swing but misses completely.  The creature turns to face him, rearing back a massive, gleaming set of black claws and...collapses to the ground, along with one other creature and Stoney.

Frederick groans as he see Stoney caught in the cone of his casting. At the same time he see Ondrea go down under a mas of the creatures. He shifts his standing and faces Ondrea, hoping that he was making the right choice. He pulls out another container of colored sand, and speaking softly he again points his hands and sends the cone of color to surround Ondrea and her attackers.  If Hawkmoon or Boris move to Ondrea before he completes his casting he will unweave the spell. Once done with the speel he will call out to Hawkmoon and Boris.

Ondrea is down. So is Stoney.

Ondrea struggles to stand, to get upright and continue the fight. At the least to break free.....


Ondrea Avalor rolled 47 using 1d100. Bend bar lift gates = 50%


-

Feeling .. from a distance, on top of a horse that should have been dead. But wasn't right now. David chokes the life out of an evil critter. Delighted to see it struggle, as after all - it was either him or someone else getting hurt. It was as they say natures fight for survival. Only the strongest would come out on top. And this one was not one of them. Not having used this magic in awhile David thought to keep his focus on the one for a little longer till it was fully down and never to rise. Couldn't have it get up and turn around. Now, that would be just 'not done'

If the thing would not move anymore (choked to death), it was perhaps time to walk closer to where the dead were. After all, things could be investigated. Certainly would be of some use to know what these things were doing. David gets off his horse .. commanding it to trample those that piled up onto where Ondrea was. A little help from a stranger could make the first words said afterward a little less cold

Hawkmoon surges to Ondrea's rescue, sword held in both hands high, ready to dispatch a creature... seeing one still moving he swings at it.


09:50, Today: Albion Hawkmoon rolled 14 using 1d20+1.  Attack beasts AC 4, need an 11.

09:51, Today: Albion Hawkmoon rolled 6 using 2d4+1.

Should be a hit with 6 damage on the most threatening looking creature left on Ondrea.

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 262):

"This one's dead, by God!"

Boris withdrew his blade, scowled at the green ichor staining it. As he was about to come to Ondrea's aid he saw the magician, Frederick, cast some kind of wide-beam esorcellment and decided whatever it was he should stay out of its way. Presumably it wouldn't hurt else Frederick wouldn't have caught Ondrea in it but why take the chance?

Instead, he turned and sprinted after the ones chasing the panicked maiden. Should he catch up to one he intended to strike at it from behind.



AC: 5 (Leather plus Buckler with +2 DEX Adjustment)
HP: 36/36
Weapon: Short Sword
THAC0/WS/Damage: 18/3/1d6, 1d8.

14:28, Today: Boris Underhill rolled 4 using 1d10+3.  Init +3 for Short Sword).

01:55, Today: Boris Underhill rolled 9 using 1d20.  To Hit THAC0 18.

In reply to Boris Underhill (msg # 267):

Stoney with his eyes closed has sweet dreams of cotton cloudy skies and wine bottles dancing in circles.  Maidens serving him the drink, and its flavor is so delightful.
He is unaware he is out, but hopes to never leave this place, the alternative is so grey and bleak.

Racing forward, Albion slices deep into another monstrosity, the spatter painting across his face.  The creature twists and collapses to the ground, twitching and shaking for several seconds.  Suddenly, Albion collapses, at the same time all movement from the dog pile on Ondrea ceases.  Having cast his charms once more, Frederick causes the entire pile, including Ondrea and Albion to simply pass out (you're each unconscious for the next six rounds).  Turning from the dead corpse in front of him, Boris spins round and begins heading in the direction he believed the others to have headed.  Just before the light fades, he finds Stoney face down in the grass, along with one of the creatures.  From the sounds of their breathing, it seemed each was asleep.  Meanwhile, in the back, the last standing creature, still clawing itself through the mud, one hand clasped about it's neck, collapses.  No sound is heard as it ceases to breath.  From behind it, the figure atop the rotten equine begins moving into clearer view.  His hand gestures towards the creature as if it is crushing the very life from it.

Frederick turns and begins another channeling of energy. He draws a small amount of spider webbing from a pocket and tosses it towards the necromancer, hoping to ensnare him so he can free his comrades.

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 269):

Obviously, some kind of necromancy!

Not wanting to dwell too much on who or why, he plunged his sword into the monster lying beside Stoney again and again.

AC: 5 (Leather plus Buckler with +2 DEX Adjustment)
HP: 36/36
Weapon: Short Sword
THAC0/WS/Damage: 18/3/1d6, 1d8.

04:07, Today: Boris Underhill rolled 12 using 1d10+3.  init +3 WS.

04:08, Today: Boris Underhill rolled 17 using 1d20+3 ((14)). Whoops, forgot to clear the +3.  But a 14 should do it! Plus it's a coup de grace?

04:10, Today: Boris Underhill rolled 3 using 1d8.  x3 Backstab Bonus. 9 HP total

As the life drained from that sneaky little EVIL creepy creature David smiled as his choke lingered just a few seconds longer, to .. you know .. make certain it was dead. Releasing his reach. the choke remained for however long the magic would last. The creature gurgling spasming and .. well, let's give it a dramatic death.

Dusting of his clothes, David. taking his staff more solid into his hand slowly made his way towards where the pile of dead creatures had stacked up. It was a shame he had not committed to memory something that allowed him to speak to these things. Afterall. They could shed some light on the situation. Light, that now otherwise only came from the campfire.

Holding up a hand slowly, not wanting to spook those that had been fighting the critters. David spoke. hoping at least one would understand his tongue "A fine evening ... my fellow travelers" (Barovian)

That was till ..

PM

At the last second Frederick realizes he actually knows this man. HE redirects the web to surround him rather than engulf him.

Just then as the words had just left his lips .. a barely audible sticky woosh surrounded David. It was not just that the dim light of the bonfire showed its sparkle. That it was evident he was surrounded. Was it a trap that he had set of. Or .. blinking his eyes. Wondering what was up. Subconsciously. Though loudly voiced David cursed rather in all sorts of .. colors ..

"What manner of magic is this ..?" more to himself then towards someone present

Frederick lets out a laugh and speaks

David Avon Ersch, it is I, Frederick. You really must learn to introduce yourself earlier. I nearly turned you into a torch. Let me dispatch these creatures and I will free you.

David got ripped out of his self'missery (taken in shape of his curses) looks up. Around towards the direction of the voice. Squeezing his eyelids, Wondering whom it was that knew him so well. Aparently, as .. mostly he tried atleast to throw some shade when folk wanted to know who he was.

Smiling "Well, .. I had a long damp travel. And these creeps here were the first thing I got to find. And .. besides a damnsel in distress, aparently .. you .. indeed" trying to wrestle a bit of info from the man "How are things, .. I .. havent been home since, well .. awhile now. Full moon, and such .." (*spoken in same Tongue as Frederick)

Frederick pulls the unconscious bodies off his companions and slips a dagger into the creeps eye-slits. As he does this he speaks to David.

We can discuss our I know and remember you later. For now, I tell you my father was a giogoto to your father.

Once he has finished with the creatures, Frederick grabs a stick from the fire and walks over to the webbing.

Stand clear of the webs. I'll burn them away. You'll be safe as long as you aren't in them. 3, 2, 1.  I am lighting them now.

Frederick touches the fire to the webs and they very quickly catch and burn. The entire mass of webbing in gone in the time it would take to drink small glass of ale.

David froze for a moment, it had been .. to long, that atleast something of a familiarity came to his ears. It was not that they were being hunted. Atleast, not really. Just mostly shunned. Forced off the lands. Harrassed .. wel, ya. Hunted. In a way. David smirked - only just hearing the man. "Obviously, .. "

Makeing certain to stay clear. Fire was one thing. Getting burned a whole different thing.

Boris continued hacking away at the monsters around him. "Die! Die! Die! Wait, wasn't there a girl somewhere around here?"

Once the things seemed dead he cautiously moved off to look for her, but stopped at the edge of the light.

Dispatching the sleeping creatures takes no time or effort and before long the ground is saturated with green ooze.  Ondrea, while asleep as well, is herself rather deeply wounded.  Her neck had been gnawed upon and the area around it had been slashed by their razor sharp claws .  She's alive but the blood is flowing rather freely.

The tracks lead off into the darkness beyond the firelight and Fredericks' glowing balls.  How many actually followed her you cannot be certain of.

Frederick will grab a cloth and try to staunch the bleeding, while calling out.

Does anyone have healing? Ondrea is bleeding profusely.

David, freed from nasty cobwebs and stepping across an extingueshed flame "Perhaps, .. I can be of some assistence. let me see that wound."

David approached ondrea, thinking of a way. Shaking his head slowly. No direct thing poped up.

"I know of .. one last remedy, Ive yet to successfully atempt it but .. unless someone knows someone. Im willing to give it a try .."

Frederick looks at David dubiously.

Let me try this first.

Frederick reaches inside his cloak and pulls out another small pinch of spider web. He mutters the words of power and summons the mana again and casts another mass of webbings.  He uses his dagger to cut a large handful of the webbing, then applies it to the wound. Then he waits to see if the bleeding stops.

What is your idea David? Or do you have another name you prefer?

Seeing the man infront of him work his magic, David smiles rather .. sheepishly .. "David, is fine, Unless the realms will grand me another."

Kneeling down besides Frederick "I havent really tried it before, I can possible .. reverse some of the magicks so it would not cause, but heal the wounds instead. I have really only thusfar experimented on animated animals."

Damn...genius

The mat of webs does manage to staunch some of the bleeding.  She's still open but a suitable few applications might just get it to stop for the time being.

Seeing the wound gushes out less blood, but still it seeps through the cobwebs. There was not so much time left until there would be no more time experimenting on the essence of the living. "I have not seen the use of this magick being used as such before. Very interesting indeed. I shall need to take some notes and as an afterthought, I am pretty certain your father would be smiling. Now, .. let me if you will help this lady .. just .. keep your holy warrior at bay. He may not actually take a liking at what I am going to try to do here."

Afterall, even if necromancy was used for a good reason it was still .. necromancy afterall. Waiting for some approval. Afterall (again as David smiled) he himself was not an evil man. Yet, evil was only evil if you looked at it in a certain manner

I have merely slowed the bleeding.  Now David, try your method.  Carefully Sir.

"Take the compliment how you want it, Im not easily impressed by the use of magicks. Anyways .. best keep her steady. Dont want to do any harm here where it is not required."

The few lesaons of anatomy and .. well, animal anatomy. Had taught David to focus on the exit of where the blood had previously been gushing. David closed his eyes, searching for the correct incantation. Opening his eyes taking but a pinch of sulfer. Almost instinctively takeing out a small vile flask "No .. not that one, need to reverse it afterall. Cant make it any worse. Allright .. instead of sending into this flesh the negative energy that Ive seen put together some rather dead animals. Im just .. putting in the positives, even though most of the magick remains the same. Better stay clear of her when Im putting my hand on her neck."

"Akula kair sula tsaran locitum!" With that, there was no more waste of time as with the incantation both hands of David glowed red. Crackling with negative energy .. then with adding but a few words the crackling of negative energy subsided and only then did David lower his hands towards the intended experiment. Well .. the unconscious young lady obviously.

OOC: Cure Light Wounds (Im thinking the effect would put her on a 1 HP, and not add a full spell effect.) Now to see if the cold darkness picks it up and reward me for my kindness lol.

Frederick would never admit it but he is a bit nervous as David perform his magics on Ondrea. He had see the spell but used for benefit and for bad but he had never seen anyone so nervous to use it for healing. There was obviously much for he and David to discuss. His anxiousness was unfounded as the magic flowed for David into Ondrea and her wound closed.

Thank you David. My companions should be coming around shortly. We shall see what Hawkmoon has to say when he awakens. I believe I am in for a tongue lashing from more than one of my party. But with Boris to back me up that you were helpful we can get past it.  Boris, this is an old family friend of mine, David. David, this fine young fellow is Boris, a valiant fighter and merchant.

The experiment had succeeded, that was to say. The subject was still breathing. And no scorched burn marks had been left after the flesh had been touched. Well, there were marks. But more of a gentle pink kind. The kind that given enough time would be shead off and its cells would regenerate into the color that was natural to that persons DNA. Or, so it was supposed to go according to human anatomy 101. Smiling sheepishly. David took his handkerchief and found his cough, though still distressful somewhat less distressful then anticipated. Atleast, after his eyes ran across the handkerchief there was no blood. Infuriated with the fact ..

"A pleasent evening dear Boris. Arent you abit young to be out in the open at this Hour ? No wait .. you'r a halfling .. sorry for my initial predicament, you do seem to be in some excellent companionship asfar as my initial observation would go. Still .. you seem to be missing out on a party member ?" David smiled

Assuming, as David did that the young girl that ran off was one of theirs. "I can see if my .." turning around so see the 'dead' horse standing just ontop of one critter. Its hoove pinning it down into the dirt. Rather forcefully. ".. ride here can find her for you. It obeys as commanded."

In reply to David Von Ersch (msg # 291):

Stopping at the limit of the light, Boris backtracked. Near Frederick and Ondrea stood the mysterious figure that had trailed the attacking monsters. This was supported by the presence of the skeletal horse.

"You... you were the one helping us? From behind? By summoning the rats? Praise be to Jesus for your help. And God's hooks! That is a frightening beast, your ride, that is.

"My name is Boris Underhill, and I am quite pleased to meet you. I have not the healing arts to assist my friend Ondrea with her wounds. And yes, I do wonder at the fate of the stranger we met, a young woman. She seemed both innocent and yet sinister."

Davids' eyes lid up as candles in the dark "Mysterious .. sinister, my kind of woman. Tell me all about this woman that apparently ran off into the dark chased supposedly by these creatures."

David got up leaveing the care into the hands of Frederick. Smiling in a spooky way "It is a rather magnificent one is it not, seeing how long it had been semi-submerged in the swamp. Thank Esra to provide me with one that hasn't fallen completely apart. That would be an awefull ride. And then the smell.

Occasionally David would look upon the face of Boris to see if more details were required.

"But, Mr Underhill .. how did you meet this man ?" David took it upon himself to look into the direction of Frederick

In reply to David Von Ersch (msg # 293):

Stoney comes stumbling back into the camp light.  Shaking his head, trying to come out of a fog per se.
Seeing Andrea on the ground, he rushes to her side, completely ignoring the new "friend".
"How long has she been out?"
His head now on her chest.
"Good she is still breathing."
Looking over her wounds, and then placing his hands on her neck.  Not in a cruel, way like Mr. David might enjoy, id assume, but in a peaceful, caring manner.
Some whispers under his breathe can be heard, "Gods hear my plea, and bless this creature Andrea with healing from thee."
"I I don't know if the Gods have imparted their healing on her."
Now hands together in his lap,  rocking back and forth at Ondrea's side Stoney starts praying.
_{"I know I havent been a worthy disciple, but please help Andrea, she deserves it.  I will try to study more, and learn more and spread your words, all of you Gods!  Jus help her!"}


If it worked..3hp healed
07:35, Today: Stoney Applesmith rolled 3 using 1d8.  CLW.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:42, Tue 11 June 2019.

Raising an eyebrow to the scene unfolding before him. It would be wise to hold once tongue. Wise, but .. not fun. As David was about to comment on the general display of effection something did stop him from saying that certain something. Was it .. humanity ? Harsh eyes of reality turned soft. For now anyways.

"You were saying ?" turning back to the halfling. As if he might have missed something.

In reply to David Von Ersch (msg # 295):

Boris, distracted by Stoney's appearance, looked back at the man.

"Uh, right. We were well met the day before yesterday. In the forest to the north of this accursed swamp. We decided to travel together. My friends and I were tracking some Saracens that attacked Port Strange and got sidetracked. I thought I heard them as well, you know, before these beasts attacked. Somewhere near here."

He held out his hand. "Good fellow, your name?" Boris couldn't remember if they were introduced. If so, the other man's name had completely gone out of his head. He always became a little disoriented after a fight, and his leg shook, a little.

"Interesting .." David took the hand of the halfling ".. well met, then Mr Underhill .. David von Ersch, Arcanist and well, David will do just fine. And please, pronounce it correctly when your in distress. I would hate to see myself ignore a good lad as yourselves. If you all wouldnt mind me taging along ? I have appeared to have found this place. It always is for some sort of reason. Damned realms. But, eitherway .. could you shead some light on your current situation. Perhaps I might beable to help in solving something."

Watching the halfling more closely "Either you need to go do something private against an oak tree, .. or you have something crawling up your leg ?"

In reply to David Von Ersch (msg # 297):

Boris shook hands. "Well met indeed, friend David. Any friend of Frederick's is a friend of mine."

Puzzled, he looked down at his leg and said, "What? It's nothing, just nerves. If I had to use the jakes I tend to bounce up and down, ha ha!" His laughter was a little on the high-pitched side, although not too hysterical.

"Our overall quest is to track down those filthy Saracens. I thought I heard them earlier somewhere from where those demons came from but I am of little mood to go searching around in the darkness for those scoundrels. We met a young woman earlier, as I mentioned, she seems to have fled thataway, with some beasts in pursuit!

"As for where we are, I suspect we are far from Earth or my land of Outremer. All of us seem to be from widely different places. Drawn by some mystical force to an accursed island in a nameless oceanthat seems overrun with demons and imps and Saracens. For what purpose we are here, God or the Devil only knows."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:03, Wed 12 June 2019.

Nodding, listening in to the halfling. "I see, I see .. yes, I have heard of tales that strangers from far away lands get sucked into some vortex and be led around the realms to do deeds of good. It has been a while I must add to see one alive. But. Anyways. I suggest you tell your friend over there to put some herbs on the edges of that wound from his girlfriend. Never know where these fingers nails and teeth have been from these .. Saracens .. you say ?"

David tried then to sift through his mind and .. memory, to see if there was something. Having studied the black arts and the secrets of the realms came a price. partially paid for thus far. it would claim more by the end of the trail. He was certain of such a thing.

"As far as we have our sanity intact Mr.underhill we might just find out .. we just might" With that David moved towards the fire to warm himself up a bit


OOC:
(lucky me, or us now :))
12:42, Today: David Von Ersch rolled 17 using 1d100.  25% Forbidden Lore.

PS: Stoney .. LOL, I just might enjoy such a thing :) *Evil Stare*

We're moving in combat rounds for simplicity's sake so it's not very long before you all manage to start to come around.

Frederick whispers to Dinen Dal

See if you can find the lady who was here.  But be very careful.

Dinen will nod, nuzzle Frederick's cheek, and scurry off into the dark.

Frederick waits anxiously for his companions to awaken and prepares himself for the ire he expects to face from them.

Warming himself besides the fire, his mighty steed came out of the shadows and did as any horse would do. Eat, just ..

With a smile the undead horse, be it more of a zombie then skeletan started to nibble on the legs and corpses of the now dead creatures. Seeing them David could not even summon a known detail from them. It probably was the fog, the swamp ..

From a small bag David took a handfull of herbs mashed it together, and ..

"Does one need to ask for a kettle of sorts these days, .. thought that it was part of a travellorskit. Youngsters .. bah" eyeing the lot for a response. Unless all kept asleep on the cold earth

".. tea .. it is for a cup of tea, my kettle is .. out there. Or I hope still. I was quite fond of it actually." murmering more to himself then anyone in particulair. Coughing

In reply to David Von Ersch (msg # 302):

Once things have settled, and assuming the lady of the night got away...or cant be found, Stoney nears the fire.  Making sure to be opposite the new comer.  A little apprehensive about the zombie horse and the new friend of a friend that is trying to make tea.
Wine skin in hand.  "How about something a little more therapeutic than tea?"
Waiting to see if the newcomer drinks. "A man can be measured by how he handles a drink."

"Measured .. ?" David looked down in his hand, the herbs. Looked up towards the wineskin. Putting away the herbs in his little bag. ".. I am no dwarf, if that is what one is measured by. And I dont suppose you have a mug available ?" David smiled sarcastically as he put the jug to his mouth and took a sampled sip. Seeing the halfling look at the steed.

"It doesnt bite .." looking back to see it was nibbling at bones by now. ".. it does eat apparently, bite .. dont know if it does that really."

Taking a last sip ".. this tasts not to bad. My compliments, Ive tasted worse. I would rather stick to my tea. It helps keep my health in check. As you might have noticed Im not much of a big man, nor frail. Still, everything seems to take a toll. So. This woman .. tell me more."

David looked about, to see if others would join around the fire. Night was still young

In reply to David Von Ersch (msg # 304):

Accepting the wine skin back from the zombie horse wrangler, and looking at it cross as it was empty now.  "No one can be as thirsty as some dwarves!"  He says in a lighthearted way.  Tipping the empty skin over his open mouth, to extract every last drop, and then putting it away, and grabbing another.  opening the other and drinking from it.
"I dont know much about the lady of the night, other than she was running from something, and disappeared into the darkness.  she still might be out there, and might be in need of help."  Turmoil is bubbling inside Stoney, as he feels compelled to look for the girl, but knows it is not a safe venture for him, or the group at night.
"I feel like we should try to find her.  It isn't safe in the darkness."  glancing back once and a while towards the zombie horse to make sure it is staying near the carcass, and not sniffing around the party.

"You care to much for the other gender, even the unknown faces. I do must add it is a desireable trait. Albeit a rather dangerous one. Woman can be like .."

Seeing the halfling keeo an eye out on the steed"Cant say if it ever had a name, it probably did at one point. It didnt seem a wild breed, but then my knowledge of horses is limited."

Turning back to the fire, warming his hands. "Perhaps if the others join the fire a plan to find this girl of yours can be made. I might be a bit of a scare but I assure you I mean no harm. Just the studies of the things most dread siphon my corporal energies and are strangely adictive. Addictive and forbidden, very much so in certain parts of the realms." (edited txt abit :))

Then David smiled, putting his hood backwards laughing aloud in a bit of an eerie cold laugh "Yes, some dwarves are unlike other dwarves,."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:48, Fri 12 July 2019.

Dinen Dal is out looking for her. He moves quieter and is smaller than any of us. And smart enough to stay out of danger.

Frederick begins easing the fallen comrades into more comfortable positions and gently nudging them awake. First Hawkmoon, then Boris and finally Ondrea.

"Dinen Dal ? That is an odd name for .. a dwarf ?" With amusement, knowing fully well. Smiling towards the halfling ".. smaller, Im not certain it is possible. Unless it is a youngster." David made himself abit more comfortable.

Watching Frederick awaken the others. "Where do you all hail from anyway. These parts certainly are quite inhospitable as you have seemingly noticed." Looking towards the pile of creatures.

In reply to David Von Ersch (msg # 308):

Cleaning off his blade, Boris nodded at Frederick. "I'm fine. I was very lucky, God was with me and I did not fall asleep. I managed to send a demon or two back to Hell. I can't wait to get back to town and out of this accursed swamp. Did I tell you I think it's accursed? Truly, it is.

"Friend David, I have a pot. Let me fetch it, that we may have some tea."

With that he filled the pot wit some brackish water and stoked the fire to bring it to a boil. "I don't think we should search for the Saracens until daylight. I heard their cries in the direction these abominations came from."

PM

"God ? There are not so many here in these acursed lands that hear the pleads of those in need of it. I have only visited several realms. Studied the darkerside of things. It might be somewhat unnerving to some, yet it brings it rewards .."

Smiling at the halfling "Oh, yes please. Mister Underhill, was it not ? Or do you prefer your first name. Better ask to be safe, some folks are strangely lightfeeted about such afairs."

David let out a cold chuckle "Cursed, blessed .. for each there is something in that swamp. But, I agree. It is not my favourite place to be."

Waiting for the kettle, then .. David starts to brew a nice tea (Brew Tea *check 9*)