With the rope in her beak, it was difficult for Atalanta to gain any height. But not impossible. Slowly, the strong druid rose into the glowing mist above, navigating between rocky outcroppings as they appeared. After about thirty or forty feet up, she broke through the mists and made her way up out of the rocky walls below. Sort of.

They were definitely in a large cavern of some sort. However, below her were patches of green hay fields that had just been harvested, and pastures containing goats and sheep. These flat areas were broken up by large cracks in the earth, making them look like close-knit islands on a sea of blue haze that flowed lazily through the canyons. These mists were the only light source up here, just as they were below, giving the fields an eerily calm quality. On one of the "islands" close to the center of the cavern had four houses and a barn on it. From there, stone pathways branched outward to all or the other islands, with arced stone bridges connecting them. At the edges of the cavern Atalanta could make out a few places where the paths entered tunnel systems.

That was all she could really notice at a glance, but there were certainly boulders she could tie her rope to, if desired.

What do you do?

---

Atalanta
Your goshawk moves are:
Dive at prey
See in great detail
Aerial maneuver

Harlin stumbled to firmer ground and surveyed the field. His left shoulder had a big chunk of claw-shrapnel embedded and was clearly paining him.

"Twessa, can you use a shortsword? I have a feeling I should stick to my bow for a while, and I could use your spear-haft in an emergency."



"I've been better, but I'll survive."

At 15/20 after armor.

16:43, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 4,3 using d6,d4 with rolls of 4,3.  Damage.

It's kind of beautiful, Atalanta thought to herself when she saw the "islands in the mist", so to speak. In an eerie, unnatural way, that is. But still. Since it'd probably be difficult - if not outright impossible - to tie the rope without thumbs, she decided to take advantage of her avian form and survey the land first.

OOC:
Spend 1 Hold to See in Great Detail.
If I spot seemingly edible animal, I'll spend 1 hold to Dive at Prey.
If any danger comes my way, I'll spend 1 hold to dodge it with Aerial Maneuver.
Once either or both were done, or of neither happens, I'll spend the rest of the hold on nothing so I can revert to human form and tie the rope to the boulders; tell me if this triggers any move.

With the scene now become less hectic, Twessa looked around at her companions and saw everyone else looking worse for wear (though it was hard to tell with the ever-shifting Atalanta). She looked down at the broken spear in her hand; the only damage she'd suffered, and a solemn frown fell upon her.

First there had been the divine visitation she'd received in her dreams, and..what must have been some kind of guidance that had seen her and her companions win the tentative support of the increasingly irritated dragons gathered outside, watching the fallen city. To Twessa there could be only one explanation: this quest must be very important to Sagrae, and far too important to lose her primary agent to happenstance. It was reassuring, but daunting - just what did her goddess truly expect of her?

After indulging in uncharacteristic brooding, Twessa looked up and smiled at Harlin, the gnome's overly positive (and perhaps slightly dimwitted?) demeanour resurfaced.

"Thank you Harlin, thats very thoughtful of you!", she said as she gratefully swapped broken staff for edged weapon. As the elf had implied, there may have been some orders of clerics that swore off such weapons, but Sagrae's teeth and claws were sharp as diamonds. Twessa would've been loathe to persist with little more than a blunt lump of wood.

Twessa carefully attached the shortsword to her belt as she peered up at the mists and wandered thoughtfully around the cavern they found themselves in (taking care not to stir up the corpse puppet). After a few steps, Twessa cordially issued the invitation she felt her friends merited, in the form she'd practiced after accidentally injuring the egos of warriors in the past with a careless offer. "Do any of you seek the restorative grace of Sagrae?"

---

04:58, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 8 using 2d6+2.  Discern Realities (Poking around to work out something about the tapestry).

My one question: What here is not what it appears to be?
(if thats no good to answer, I'll do `What here is useful or valuable to me?')

And does anyone need heals, or are you all OK to carry on slightly bruised?
This message was last edited by the player at 18:35, Fri 18 Jan 2019.

"I think we may yet have greater need of her help as we continue."

After stowing her rope where she planned on knotting it later, Atalanta found it much easier to flit about the expansive cavern. With her keen bird of prey eyesight, the druid was able so spot quite a few tasty morsels to choose from. There were chickens near the farmhouses, a ferret snooping around a goat pen, two rabbits munching on grass with the sheep, and quite a few rats and mice scurrying around in the freshly cut hay fields. Nothing gave her trouble as she moved about in the air. There were not even any people out and about. They were either inside or elsewhere.

After snatching her meal, Atalanta was easily able to tie off her rope and drop it to where her companions presumably still waited down below.

Meanwhile, as the rest of the party discussed among themselves in the muddy swamp-canyon, Twessa also took a moment to look at the tapestry they had entered with a new perspective. As she sloshed through the mud and puddles, poked the scraggly trees, ran her hand over the stone outcropping, Twessa came to one very obvious conclusion. This place was real.

More real than one would expect from the inside a piece of cloth. The rocks were made of rock. The water was made of water. Still, something seemed off. She knew from countless tales that the tapestry didn't always follow the same logic of the natural world, but now she could sense it. A gut feeling that rules like "water is wet" and "fire burns" were not constant throughout the realm. The type of feeling that a box could be larger on the inside than the outside. It was difficult to grasp completely and nigh impossible to fully explain, but Twessa could feel it in her bones now that she was paying attention to it.

Just as this epiphany hit her full force, one end of the rope dropped down from up above.

What do you do?

---

Atalanta
You are human again, at the side of the canyon in a hay field. I will let you decide what you chose for your meal. It is the equivalent of 1 ration.

Twessa
What here is not what it appears to be?
Everything. And nothing. You can't tell by looking at it that you are even inside of the tapestry. Everything seems much more real than you expected it to. Because it is real. Still, it is not necessarily the same type of real as your own world.

Gania watched Atalanta fly away, wondering why did she have to be cursed with the fire inside of her instead of a useful ability like the druids. Sighing, the barbarian waited. When Twessa offered divine healing, Gania stiffened slightly, her hand once again seeking the gash on her arm. But she waited. When the gnome left to explore their surroundings, Gania followed. Once she caught up to the priestess, she asked in a low voice, ashamed of her weakness "If your dragon wills it, I could use some restoration."

Once the rope was lowered, Gania gave it an experimental tug. "Anyone eager to go first?" she asked, ready to take on the role if needed. Her eyes drifted upwards to the mist in which the top of the climb hid.

"Quickclaw and I can go up and scout," Harlin answered. "Though Atalanta wouldn't have lowered the rope if there were obvious danger."

The ranger shouldered his bow (cat on the other shoulder) and started to climb, agilely kicking off of the cliff face.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:35, Sun 20 Jan 2019.

Twessa took a deep breath. The...unreality of this place was a lot to process. Perhaps the unreality of the tapestry was the problem Sagrae wanted resolved. Or not. She hadn't been here long, perhaps the problem was that the tapestry was becoming more real! Frustrated, Twessa pressed against her forehead with a thin finger and sighed - this sort of wizard thinking wasn't something she enjoyed in the least.

At Gania's approach the cleric nodded, understanding the delicacy of Gania's request with diplomacy. A warrior's pride was far easier to harm than their person, and much harder to heal.

She didn't have music (what she'd give to have a bard at her side!), so she'd have to do her modest dance of petition (an exaggerated shuffling of feet and bowing at the waist meant to impersonate a dragon's display of deference) accompanied only by the sloppy sounds of mud.

"O Sagrae, Queen of Dragons, Protector of Traditions, and Avenger of Discourtesy, please hear my plea", the little gnome sang in a minor key. "I, Twessa Dumdellin, your adoring servant, beseech you to extend your hospitality through me to my dear friend Gania, of the Emberstorm tribe, and grant her relief from such injuries as she has suffered."

---

HEAL FAIL! Oh Sagrae noooooo

02:29, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 5 using 2d6+2.  Casting Healing on Gania.
02:36, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 5 using 1d8.  In case DM wanted to know how much healing wouldve been.

While waiting for her companions to climb up, Atalanta began to skin the chicken and prepare it for the more (gasp) civilized people.

Harlin and Atalanta

When Harlin reached the top of the rope, he came upon Atalanta effortlessly preparing a dead chicken for eating. But behind her were the expansive hay fields and pastures scattered among islands of rock that signified a farmland. The sight of a barn a few "islands" over solidified that fact. However, it appeared some people were now approaching from the farmhouses. Two dwarves and a gnome, carrying a pitchfork, a shovel, and a hatchet. It was difficult to tell from here if they intended to cause trouble or not, but they would arrive in about a minute or so.

---

Twessa, Gania, and Istvan

Down below, Gania worked to heal Gania's wounds with her magic as they waited for Harlin to climb the rope. The barbarian's wounds were healing up nicely, but then the gnome's spell was suddenly interrupted by a glass vial smashing against her back. She could instantly smell the acrid scent of acid.

"Blasphemer!" a voice called out from the mists. "Heretic! You are not welcome here!" It was the mud-covered figure Twessa had spotted when they first arrived. She had the voice of an old gnomish crone. She was clutching a talisman around her neck in one hand and holding a potion bottle in her other.

What do you do?

---

Atalanta and Harlin
You have some farmers coming to investigate you. Their intentions are unknown.

Twessa
Apparently the figure you spotted earlier doesn't like you using your goddess's magic in her swamp. Your spell was successful, but you had a vial of acid thrown at your back. Either take 1d8 damage, or reduce your armor by 1 permanently.

Gania
Heal 5 HP from Twessa's magic.

Istvan
From your perspective you notice that the type of talisman around the mud witch's neck is often used for summoning magics. What kind of swamp creature can she summon with her talisman?
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:41, Fri 25 Jan 2019.

Ugh. Stick Elemental. Don't want one of those summoned to claw at us...

(Parley: 15:45, Today: Istvan Vanoson rolled 8 using 2d6+1 ((1,6)).)

"Wait, wait! We'll leave! Just don't attack us any further...!" said Istvan...
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 22:33, Tue 22 Jan 2019.

"We've got company." Atalanta commented to Harlin while she observed the incoming three carefully, trying to determine their intentions.

OOC:
Discern Realities: Atalanta rolled 11 using 2d6+3. I'll ask:
What is about to happen?
What should I be on the lookout for?
Who’s really in control here?

Quickclaw jumped off of Harlin's back and moved silently through the grass toward the short figures. Harlin himself stepped forward, in front of Atalanta, empty hands raised. "Hello! We are strangers here." he called, hoping they would understand the language of the Other Side. He watched their reactions carefully, hoping for information rather than trouble.

Though the presence of the chicken carcass made him slightly nervous in this context.

Discern Realities with the help of Quickclaw (strength: Stealthy and training: Scout). 11

What is about to happen?
What happened here recently?
What here is not what it appears to be?

18:38, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 11 using 2d6+3.  Discern Realities w/cat.

"Indeed." Gania watched the crone carefully while gripping the rope "Let us leave and all will be good." she kept glancing at Twessa, hating herself for not seeing the attack coming. "Are you well friend?" she asked the cleric, concerned.

The dancing cleric yelped in shock at the surprise attack, and when she smelled the corruption of leather she rapidly unbuckled her leather armor and incautiously tossed it to the ground to fade away.

Twessa's natural reaction was anger - for interrupting her prayer to Sagrae, for assaulting her person. The gnome's instinctively grasped for her spear (broken, and given away) leaving her hand to fumble at nothing as she stood on the precipice of dramatic response.

It was the words of her friends that swayed her away from violence, and the nagging feeling that perhaps they'd accidentally breached etiquette. Perhaps this woman had some sort of guardianship of the swamp, and her complaint of intrusion was fair. That was enough. Enough to spare the crone from violence, not enough to acknowledge her response as valid.

"I'm fine. Lets just go.", Twessa replied to Gania, and turned her back on the crone once more, waiting for her turn to climb the rope.

---

Losing the armor instead of taking damage is kind of funny to me, so I chose that. Weapon and armor, both ruined! Poor Twessa.

Down in the swamp, the old crone seemed to consider Istvan's words, just barely holding back from throwing her potion. Her arm twitched once. Twice. Then the gnome lowered her arm just a hair. "Fine, leave. Now. If you do, I suppose I can spare your wretched lives. You ever come back though..." The crone let her threat hang, emphasizing it with one last fake throw of her potion. But so long as the party members all climbed up the rope, she did not let loose with her attack.

As the party members below began their climb, the party members above prepared to deal with several of the local farmers. When Harlin called out to them, the dwarf in front replied in an agitated voice. "You're gall darn right you are strangers! What are you doing on our property? Poaching our poultry?" He pointed with his shovel at the chicken Atalanta had nabbed. He stopped a few paces away and stroked his long grey beard. The other dwarf and the gnome stood behind each of his shoulders. "That is our livelihood you decided to help yourselves to there. This is our field you are trampling through. We can't just let that go, you know. Old Ungart's gotta make a living!" His tone of voice and rubbing motion he was making with his fingers indicated he was alluding to some generous payment. "What do you got to trade for the chicken? And then of course the fee for trekking on or field here too."

As the man spoke, Harlin noticed that the rope behind him was taught and wiggling, indicating that at least one more of his allies would be showing up shortly to give their support.

What do you do?

---

Istvan
It seems she will not attack so long as you all do, in fact, exit her swamp. And it appears you all are.

Twessa and Gania
Up the rope you go.

Atalanta
What is about to happen?
You are going to be held accountable for taking a chicken unless you pay Ungart for his livestock.

What should I be on the lookout for?
Overcharging. Ungart seems to be the greedy type.

Who’s really in control here?
The grey-bearded dwarf Ungart seems to be the leader of this farmstead.

Harlin
What is about to happen?
One or more of your companions is about to join you.

What happened here recently?
The hay has just been harvested, making Quickclaw's sneaking much more difficult in the short grasses. (Although they don't seem to be paying the cat much mind anyway.)

What here is not what it appears to be?
Ungart seems less concerned about his chicken and field, and seems more concerned about coming up with reasons to extort payment from you.

Yes, Istvan ascends, with no further delay...

"My name is Harlin." At least they shared a language. "And this is Atalanta. She did not know the chicken was livestock. But can we compensate you for the trouble? And if you will point us to the road, we will be off your property as quickly as we can."

Do we have any coin, even trivial amounts? Dungeon World is funny that way about how it does increments. If not, I'll try offering some of my rations or arrows. What I'm going for is to get out of this situation without a fight or unreasonable extortion. They are kind of in the right.

19:24, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 2 using 2d6.  Parley.

Oops.

Snake-Eyes Club!

"Well, you can have it back if you want." Atalanta said helpfully (?), holding up the half-skinned chicken. "I can even finish skinning it for you if you like."

OOC: Sorry, I can't resist the urge to do something to make things worse. =P

Ungart gave a wide smile at Harlin and Atalanta's words, his yellowed teeth showing beneath his beard. "That is the kind of cooperation I like to hear. There's no reason we can't solve our grievances peacefully right?" He looked the two adventurers up and down appraisingly.

"The chicken is no good to us in the state it is in now, but I suppose you could give us that rundown bow for it," he said, pointing to Harlin's bow that was in fact NOT rundown. "And a bundle of arrows should do it for trespassing. And naturally, since there are two of you, two bundles seems appropriate."

Most would think that would be the end of it, but Ungart seemed to only be getting started. "Then there is the matter of the damage you are causing to our field by trampling all over it. Those bundles of food you have should about cover our losses there. The chicken skinning is a separate matter though. In order to pay for the extra cleaning effort in that area I think it is only fair to trade us that herb pouch you have. And you are certainly more than welcome to exit through our lands, but I should warn you, we charge tolls for the use of our bridges. Do not fret though. I think that assortment of miscellaneous items there, your adventuring gear, should be adequate. We have several different exits from our farmlands here though. Some of the paths are quite deadly. I would be more than happy to give guidance on the matter for the cheap price of the leathers the two of you wear." The greedy man's smile only got wider as he spoke, if that was even possible, but at last it seemed he was finished.

"I feel we have given you quite a generous deal here, given the circumstances. Care to take us up on it? Resolve this peaceably?" There was just a hint of intimidation in his voice as he and his two companions stood with Harlin and Atalanta backed against the top of the cliff, currently outnumbered. Although the other three were only a few feet from reaching the top now, but Ungart couldn't see that.

What do you do?

---

Atalanta and Harlin

Ungart is basically trying to extort everything you own from you by claim in fees or offering bargains. It is quite a ridiculous request by most standards, but it is up to the two of you if you accept or not. Here are the offered terms in list form:

For taking the chicken                   : fined : Harlin's Hunters Bow
For trespassing                          : fined : 1 bundle of arrows per person
For damaging the field                   : fined : Harlin's Dungeon Rations
For dirtying field with chicken skinning : Fined : Atalanta's Poultices and Herbs
For use of bridges                       : toll  : Harlin's adventuring gear
To know which exits are safe or deadly   : fee   : Both their armors

Things not bargained for : Their sticks and their clothes.

Istvan, Gania, Twessa
You can hear the conversation from where you are on the rope. Feel free to enter the scene whenever you feel it is the right moment.

"...Is this extortion?" Atalanta raised an eyebrow and looked toward Harlin. "It sounds like extortion."

"I think its just their price list", Twessa helpfully suggested as she surfaced from the swamp below. "Maybe you should explain your fees? Not cursing the harvest, and not turning into a bull and goring people to death is probably quite expensive?"

Once on solid ground, Twessa moved away from the rope for the next person, looked up, and noticed another gnome! She immediately straightened up, coyly tilted her head, and tried not to smell of swamp juices, nor of the sweaty clothes usually hidden under her now abandoned leather armor. Travelling in the south it'd been infrequent at best that she'd found gnomes to spend time with, and look at all the hay just begging to be rolled in...

"Hi", Twessa said, breaking the ice, and tried to make her voice sound husky and lewd. She entirely ignored the greedy dwarf and his...brother? Who cares about dwarves!

---

16:29, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 3 using 2d6+1.  Aiding a counter-extortion & flirting.

SNAKE EYES CLUB!

Thats a bad flirt!
This message was last edited by the player at 05:43, Sun 27 Jan 2019.

"You know," Gania spoke as she reached the end of the rope and pulled herself up "Those that carry weapons can use them." she straightened her back and readied her greatsword "And now there's more of us."

10:17, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 6 using 2d6.  Parley - live and let live.

Harlin's face changed into something quite ugly. "Yes, this is extortion. My counter-offer: an arrow for each of you." He nocked one to start.