The next day dawned with a light fog. A gentle breeze carried it eastwards, along the side of the hills, into the open lands beyond. Larissa was ready for you with a hot breakfast, which felt good in the somewhat chilly morning air. Considering last night's alcohol, the air was a bit too cold for comfort at the moment.

With the meal out of the way, you have the rest of the day to look forward to. It is likely that the fog will vanish as soon as the sun can make its way over the hills and mountains, so a good warm day is still a possibility.

You are now a much larger group. Two humans and two dwarves have joined your ranks, and even as Phelan departs, and Marille stays back for at least this day, you still have a total of nine battle-ready bodies, including Sowen and Olagh.

There doesn't appear to be an actual need to register your newcomers, as the bounties were still collectable with your names as it was. You did have a share with Sowen and his brother, and there was nothing actually stopping you from earning that payout.

As you approach the town's round, you spot Camille by the well talking to the women, and Sowen and Olagh sitting by the hall's steps, chatting with several of the locals. They stand as soon as they see you and approach.

"Another day, another head. Where are we going today?"

Camille makes the sign of Chiress' blessings to the last woman leaving her side, and she approaches as well, clad in her metal armor as before. From the looks on her face she seems worried, or tired. Hard to tell. It could have been a difficult night. Her eyes expression looks weary, and she's got dark bags under her eyes.

"I am good for another search. Back to the orcs?"

---

OOC: I keep being wrong about the schedule. It looks like there are more projects in the pipleline than I was being made aware of, so I wound up having to have another 5:30am Sunday working working schedule.

Don't get me wrong now, I like being employed and having money in bank account, specially in times like these were so many people don't. But this extra time is making me burn the candle at both ends and I am getting tired. Which is why I haven't been posting lately.

But this marks the beginning of the third day in this exploration, and the options are open to you.

Where do you want to go?

On an unrelated note, I will still owe you an experience award for the money you collected. I will be getting that ready soon-ish. I also need to add the new adventurers to the combat summary sheet, and you guys and gals will eventually need to establish a new marching order for your new roster.

Let me know how you want to do this. =)

With the meal out of the way, you have the rest of the day to look forward to. It is likely that the fog will vanish as soon as the sun can make its way over the hills and mountains, so a good warm day is still a possibility.

Petar was glad; nothing ruined the elf's mood faster than a mud-spawning downpour.  Others might shrug off the elements but the 'city elf' liked being dry and warm .. and clean.  Emberdell may not have areas as filthy as a larger settlement, but he hadn't seen any universally clean areas, either!

you still have a total of nine battle-ready bodies, including Sowen and Olagh.

Petar greeted everyone at breakfast, trying to learn a bit more about everyone too.  It seemed at least two were rough-and-tumble front-rankers, which suited the archer just fine.

There doesn't appear to be an actual need to register your newcomers, as the bounties were still collectable with your names as it was. You did have a share with Sowen and his brother, and there was nothing actually stopping you from earning that payout.

"We can still visit Master Garrell, if you like," Petar says with a shrug.  He didn't want some legal technicality suddenly being sprung on them after they'd risked their lives for the town.  So far the place seemed free of shadiness and corruption - almost idyllically so - but the elf was aware that everyone here was more or less an outsider and lacking in any political clout.

Except for Camille .. as long as the Priestess was with them, Petar felt they'd get along just fine with any situation.

Camille makes the sign of Chiress' blessings to the last woman leaving her side, and she approaches as well, clad in her metal armor as before. From the looks on her face she seems worried, or tired. Hard to tell. It could have been a difficult night. Her eyes expression looks weary, and she's got dark bags under her eyes.

"I am good for another search. Back to the orcs?"

Seeing Camille looking more desperate fills Petar with a sense of urgency as well.  "I think we'd better head to the "X" on the map now, time may be - no, is - running out for the missing," he says with as much conviction as he's said about anything so far.

The elf shows everyone the map again, taken out of a pocket and flattened against a step.  "Remember, we aren't sure what's here except that it may be a mine or other dungeon, and there may be undead and their creators," Petar says.

One vote to head to the 'X' :)

you guys and gals will eventually need to establish a new marching order for your new roster.


Suggest: Lland takes Phelan's spot and Mysh takes Marille's spot.  Pierre should choose his own position, I think .. thieves can be fragile!
This message was last edited by the player at 20:18, Tue 20 Oct 2020.

Aila had, upon retiring to her room, spent some time in meditations contemplating all of the things that she had learned and the puzzles she had encountered.  These days in Emberdell had been quite enlightening, to be certain.

Coming down to eat, she was dressed--as always--in the simple shirt and trousers, her hair tied atop her head and pinned in place with the "tree of life".

Looking over the map that Petar had spread out for view, she said, "Have we made any connection with where the map starts and its orientation?"

Angus came down refreshed and ready. He ate a hearty big breakfast, it was going to be a long day. He was glad of the extra help, sad to lose Marille and Phelan, some folks weren't cut out for the life. He thought Marille was, he was surprised by her.

Looking over the map that Petar had spread out for view, she said, "Have we made any connection with where the map starts and its orientation?"

"Somewhere west in the hills ..." Petar mutters, a little aloof as he replays the conversation with Doromas in his mind as well.



"Remember Doromas wanted us to find his talisman, too .. their are hundreds of gold apiece at stake!" Petar adds with a smile.  For the newcomers, he recites a quick summary of their meeting with the local wizard the other day:


This message was last edited by the player at 03:20, Thu 22 Oct 2020.

"Wherever we go, there we kill," Mysh says sagely... or is it hope he's conveying?  "Don't care where, as long as blood flows and coins go clink-clink.  Put me in front, please; is easier to kill in the near abroad."

He pounds his breastplate and makes a few mock swings with both his sword and weaponized shield.  Ready for action!

Oswyn appears in the morning. He's armored up except for his right arm, which he's got on ice. He may have won the arm wrestling, but against such mighty opponents, the wins took their toll on him.

After breakfast, he fastens on his pauldron, vambrace and gauntlet. He takes a few tentative swings with his battle axe and then tests the pull on his bow. "I'm a little stiff, but ready to go. I like the sound of killing orcs. There's bad blood between them and my people..." His voice trails off, but then he resumes his cheerful attitude. He makes sure to have two mugs of ale with breakfast to dull the ache in his arm.

OOC: Thanks for the rehash, Petar!

In reply to Oswyn (msg # 7):

OOC - Petar is excellent for that! I can't find shit that has been posted, he must have a photogenic memory! ;-) Or is that graphic!

Ooc- I'm so dumb I didn't even see there was a new topic open *facepalm*

Lland awoke as he usually did, with a startled jolt. Adventuring was all well and good, the gold and the adrenaline kept you going, but it didn't stop the dreams from coming at night. After a while the people you killed weighed on an adventurer's dreams. All they could do though was wipe the eye crusties off and get back to business, the only way to make money, the only way to fight he guilt.

Lland shook off the general funk he sometimes found himself in and made his way down to a hearty breakfast. Some meat would help to give he day a major kickstart, along with a little hair of the dog of course. Not like Lland ever got hangovers but ale was a given either way.

Lland was surprised to find that in fact it wasn't wholly necessary for them to register and honestly as long as he got his fair share of the loot registering wasn't something he had been entirely sold on. Lland was about the money mostly so if he could not register and still make his money that'd be his choice. Lland turned to Petar as the group met up to discuss the coming days.

" a'm 'ere tae hulp whither or nae th' toun recognizes me as some sort o' official hero. Yer th' expert o' this toun though sae if ye say tis better tae sign up ah will tak' yer word fur it Elf"

Lland shifted his attention to the map
"my momma aye said if thir's an x oan a map then ye awready ken know whaur ye'r gaun. Th' x is th' ainlie option  we hae as true adventurers"

Not that Lland didn't have a nose for finding his own leads, but come on, an x? It was he universal sign for 'ignore everything else and go here,' and Lland didn't make it a habit of fighting lady fate.

"Indeed, the 'x' would mark a goal," agreed Aila, "as long as you know where the map starts from.  West, in hills, is perhaps a bit vague, but it gives us a direction to start in, and hope to find other signs to help us pinpoint what area the map actually covers."

Her own breakfast was fairly simple--a light ale, and a good all-around mix of the breakfast offerings of meat, bread, and fruit.

OOC: Alright. One crude hand-drawn map coming up.

Log Book Map

No need to beat yourself up. I probably ought to have announced it. The crew here is already used to a thread a day so far. No worries. =)

"Indeed, the 'x' would mark a goal," agreed Aila, "as long as you know where the map starts from.  West, in hills, is perhaps a bit vague, but it gives us a direction to start in, and hope to find other signs to help us pinpoint what area the map actually covers."

Petar traces a skinny, lithe finger from the circled 'house' to where there appears to be a crossroads.  "This must be Emberdell here at the start, and this is the bridge on the west road."

The finger travels up the river and jabs the 'x'.  "We use the river to get our bearings, and keep that tower on our left as we head north, past a marsh area and into those hills," the elf adds.  Petar looks thoughtful.  "It may be a few days' journey, we will need bedding and enough food and so on."

The thought of travel was not a distressing one for Petar, but he was certainly used to sleeping in a bed as opposed to under the stars.  The elf was not fond of rivers and swamps either ... anything that posed a danger to his armour in the form of rust, or his person in the form of death by drowning!

"We better stock up on a few things. Get paid for the heads and ready ourselves."

With Camille and the brothers in tow, the party found that they had all they needed to engage in another day of exploration. Camille promted everyone to refil with blessed water for the day, as the enchantement was bound to wear out given time.

"We better stock up on a few things. Get paid for the heads and ready ourselves."


OOC: Where to, fellas? You have the whole day wide open. What extra provisions do you feel you will need?

This post is short because the story just needed a sign to move ahead.

Things I still need to do:
1. Update the marching order roster.
2. Update the experience for the gold earned.

Oswyn looks at the map. "Looks like we need to head towards the river, and when we get to the bridge, orient ourselves to follow the map. Shouldn't be difficult."

The dwarf checks his supplies. He's got a full quiver, a week's worth of food packed for travel, and a few tools, in addition to his weaponry. He stands ready to head out.

"I have extra rations, does anyone need to buy some?"

"I should like to purchase a bedroll for myself," said Aila.  "Does anyone else wish to do so, since this time we aren't planning to get back by nightfall?"

Lland wasn't necessarily he best planner, he had always been the sort of 'charge in swinging figure details out later' sort of fellow. That being the case, he currently didn't have any supplies but the armor on his back, his shield and weapon. He'd been winging it across the land, sleeping where he could,eating when the opportunity presented itself, but he supposed there was no harm in actual preparation. He'd go to the shops and get some supplies, personal growth.

"i git tae git a wee bit o' everything, a've bin gawin` wi' juist mah armor shield 'n' migty steel"

Petar offers to loan people coins they might need; otherwise he keeps quiet and examines the map intently, as if trying to memorise every line and squiggle ... which of course he is!

Mysh has a week’s iron rations and a full wineskin.  He neither requires nor desires anything else.

In reply to Mysh (msg # 21):

"You'll want Chiress' water, it heals!"

Mysh grunts, indicating he’d like to know more.

Camille smiles. This question is one she would like to answer.

"Chiress' blessings are good for us. The water is a light healing, it helps stop bleeding, mends small hurts, and is good for cooking." She chuckles to herself after that remark. "And in a pinch, it can keep undead away from your door."

Taking a few steps towards the direction of her temple, she turns and looks at the assembled group.

"So, everyone ready with their skins and flasks? Let's get some blessed water to take with us."

She strides purposefully down the southern main avenue toward the temple of Chiress in Emberdell.

Sowen and Olagh look at each, shrug their shoulders with a "what have we got to lose" smirk, and start on their way following the young priestess.

OOC: Sorry folks, my posting rate is tanking. Things have been... oh, how shall I put it... "uncomfortable" lately. I actually feel like I still need some extra time to recover from the last weekend, which fried me quite hard. Funny thing, tomorrow I get to wake up at 4:30 am again. Actually, now that the clocks fall backwards an hour I suppose I get that extra hour and it is actually 5:30 am? Small blessings. =)

Anywho, I am still here. Just a bit tired and that is affecting my motivation to get stuff done. You should see my apartment. It's a mess. But at least I am doing my laundry. =)

On that note, Pierre, are you still here? I haven't see a post from you in a long time. A couple of weeks or so. Still with us?

Looks to be a goner.

Mysh eagerly collects all the blessed water he can carry, then grunts his appreciation.

OOC: Hang in there!

She strides purposefully down the southern main avenue toward the temple of Chiress in Emberdell.

"I think it's blessed for at least a day," Petar adds.  He definitely was a believer in the divine, but not quite a student of all the myriad details.

Once things were in order and it was time to move away from Emberdell the elf refrains from chit chats and keeps a watchful eye on the wild spaces ahead, to the sides, and behind.

Lland stocked up with the basic gear he thought he would need and made his way back to the group. It had been some time since he had traveled in a group. While it was easily more effective to have numbers in adventuring, he preferred solo work.

Lland had split from his settlement with several fellow dwarves and friends and they had went to pursue individual fortune in the exciting world of hunting bounties. There had been an incident involving a betrayal and a botched assignment which lead to Lland's party of childhood friends losing their lives. This had not only hardened his skin but until now had him keeping others at arm's length. But nobody can dwell forever, and Lland wouldn't be his own worst enemy, there were too many real enemies to worry about.

"i'm a' stocked up fae mah bits tae th' tip o' mah heid. Now let's slay some god damned beasts 'n' mak' ourselves a wee bit richer."

Ooc- I still gotta actually purchase stuff but that won't be too difficult so I'll be ready to kick some butt whenever

As everyone fills their skins with blessed water, Camille cautions everyone to remember the effect only lasts for three days from the time the water leaves the fountain.

"That should be enough time to travel to the hills and back."

With all preparations complete and your new equipment in tow, you depart town and head generally westwards according to the map. You notice that the young human, Pierre, is not present with you today. He seemed very interested last night, but never showed up the next morning.

Travel along the road is easy, the path clearly marked and a set of wagon wheel ruts deeply etching the passage of countless wagons over the years onto the road. You pass farmers carrying produce to town, as well as a pair of young kids leading a large flock of geese east, accompanied with a pair of flock hounds. There is so much honking you can't hear yourself talk for a few moments. But the birds quickly tire of their bluster and easily pass you by.

A two-man patrol of town guards greets you, and Camille stops for a moment to talk with them. She mentions wives and children, and the health of the family dogs. She also gives advice to one of them on how to keep a deep cut clean, and to be more careful with the farm shed tools. A small application of the blessed fountain water, from her skin, not the flasks she carries, close the wound almost instantly, and the guards depart with smiles and gratitude, promising to keep an eye on her whenever she calls on them. She waves them goodbye with a blessing.

The sun rises casually over the mountains, and the fog quickly dissipates as the air warms and the light brightens the fields. A deep layer of dew glitters in the new day's light, covering the land in dazzling reflections. It is almost too much for your eyes, brilliant beams of sunlight everywhere, but it only lasts for a short while as the dew fades away with the morning heat.

After about an hour's walk, perhaps a mile of total distance travelled, you spot the bridge over the river in the distance. To the north and south you can spot the outlying farms and fields.

Once past the bridge, according to the map, you have a choice: you could continue following the river and diverge from it at the closest spot to the X marking, or you could simply head cross-country towards the hills.

OOC: So, what will it be, gents? Follow the river? Or cut across the the land?

She waves them goodbye with a blessing.

Hovering nearby, Petar listens closely in case the two-man patrol mentioned anything odd, like drake swarms or missing livestock.  The elf asks their opinion on the weather for the next few days.  Like most city folk, the elements were a mystery to him and he always guessed wrong.


After about an hour's walk, perhaps a mile of total distance travelled, you spot the bridge over the river in the distance. To the north and south you can spot the outlying farms and fields.

After closing his eyes and concentrating for a moment Petar imagines their progress on the map.  He had the real item carefully tucked away for now and instead gets his mental bearings.

"I think our best move is to follow the river, a little more at least.  I'm not saying we'll be lost without it, but I think it will help us mark our time," Petar suggests.

"We can always catch a fish or two later for supper too when we get ready for camp."

Aila had taken time to purchase the bedroll before setting out, and had been walking along easily enough, listening intently to the words of the patrol.

"I agree," she said to Petar.  "The river should be a more sure guide to where we are headed."  She tried to remember what landmarks might have been present to guide the way overland, and being unable to do so, added, "It gives less chance that we might end up off our course."

Lland thrived in a journey environment personally, he was his happiest on the road towards uncertainty and admittedly danger. Maybe it was some sort of odd personality quirk to where danger excited him but if he didn't risk his life in battle at least once he considered a trip a waste of time. Perhaps a psychological reaction to trauma but it had made him the way he was and honestly alot more fun .

His morning Star was freshly polished and longing for a good kill, Lland would never polish it if he didn't have to but a thick coating of dried blood and grime apparently didn't hit people with the same sense of pride as him and they got scared or some nonsense.

Lland watched the elf on the trail, he was very observant, you could tell from his eyes he was always watching and listening. More power to him, Lland figured he was a well enough individual to have watching his back. He of course wouldn't be able to gauge the team dynamic until actual trouble struck but he had pretty good instincts usually and this crew seemed alright.

Lland listened to the discussion about direction.

"doesn't maiter tae me, let us follow th' water tae glory 'n' mibee a glorious death if th' fates decide as much."

Lland watched the elf on the trail

Petar gave Lland a nod and a smile during these times; Petar lacked real-world experience out and about but he was learning fast and of course had a wealth of book-learning to draw upon.

As for dwarfs, the elf was sure that the traditional storylore emnity between his kind and theirs was grossly over-stated.  Still, Petar was sure to be polite and engaging whenever possible.

"A glorious death sounds grand, but would it not be only thus if there are bards there to witness it?" Petar says with a chuckle.  "Let's strive to live a little longer, shall we ..."

"I'm sure my death will be the least glorious ever, but it's only a matter of time anyway. Let's go, follow the river. Are there any clues on the map as to when we should turn away from the river?" Despite the pessimistic tone of Oswyn's words, he sounds cheerful and resigned to his fate at the same time.

The dwarf hefts his pack after the party's short rest at the river crossing and is ready to set out.

Mysh recommends heading to the X, but it seems he is outvoted.  Still, he’s tempted to demand a recount.

"Weel then that given a'm certain we mist mak' an agreement as heros 'n' legends o' fortuin, an adventurer's pact o' th' hi'est sanctity..."

Lland said all of this with a serious face, and the moment of silence only made the moment seem more serious. For as is true with most life or death scenarios it was usually preferable to trust those around you with the boisterous but also the calm and the dependable. Lland grabbed the Elf by his lapel solidly but not in an agressive way looking him straight in the eye. Sometimes even warrior free spirits had a serious moments...

" whichever win o' us lives haes tae pick up th' lute 'n' learn tae sing pretty."

..And sometimes they did not. His face cracked a wide grin as he gave the elf a hardy pat on the back and released his grip on Petar.

" bit dinnae git me wrong petar, a'm th' ainlie one that kin murdurr me. Mony hae tried, owh thata' lich kings , bit ah haven't run intae one o' they in ages."  Lland said winking as he continued to prepare his gear for travel once more.

In reply to Lland Sliyed (msg # 37):

"Hmmmm, I plan to live forever, even if I die." he said with a grin.

“How do you plan to pull that off?  Where I come from, dead is dead.”

Lland said all of this with a serious face, and the moment of silence only made the moment seem more serious. ... Lland grabbed the Elf by his lapel solidly but not in an agressive way looking him straight in the eye. Sometimes even warrior free spirits had a serious moments...

Unsure what the dwarf was about to exposit, Petar flinched ever-so-slightly at the touch but took the man-handling in stride, keeping a firm eye contact and trying to impress upon Lland that he was serious, too.

You camped with, traveled with, ate with, slept beside and fought beside your party-mates, you had better take them serious!

" whichever win o' us lives haes tae pick up th' lute 'n' learn tae sing pretty."

..And sometimes they did not. His face cracked a wide grin as he gave the elf a hardy pat on the back and released his grip on Petar.

Petar smiles, commenting on the possible lute-worthiness of dwarfs.  "I've little talent with music," the elf adds, admitting he hasn't really applied himself to learning an instrument yet.

"Perhaps we'll have time to learn Emderdell shanties in due course ..." Petar says with a glance at Camille.  He hoped the levity was not off-putting to the Priestess who was no doubt anxious about her sister's fate.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:56, Sun 08 Nov 2020.

"Hmmmm, I plan to live forever, even if I die." he said with a grin.

The mention of liches and Angus' claim to "live forever" didn't escape Camille's attention. She nodded ever so slightly in an evaluating gesture, but kept her attention ahead.

The suggestion to follow the river as a safe course is generally accepted. Sowen and Olagh, not quite feeling like full party members, only nod along and prepare to step off the bridge and begin walking on the river's banks.

After the small exchange with Lland, Petar adds,

"Perhaps we'll have time to learn Emderdell shanties in due course ..." he said with a glance at Camille.  He hoped the levity was not off-putting to the Priestess who was no doubt anxious about her sister's fate.

"I'd like to hear that. Last time you sang the guards wanted to eat you!", she laughed up lightly. "You're going to have to find better stories, Petar," she winked, then changed the subject. "It's a long way on the river... who knows how to swim?"

The party departed the road under the curious auspices of the drivers of a passing wagon. They stopped for a moment and stared as you began your way along the river's banks.

The day remained calm, if a bit chilly. Despite the rising sun, the air kept the cool morning's nip. The river's waters bubbled in a relaxed manner, but you could tell from the flow that the current was strong. It would be hard to ford this river around here.

The river banked away from the road at a gentle angle. However, soon you had made enough distance from the road to lose sight of it among the gentle slopes. Up ahead you could see the outlines of a forest, and some hills before it. The land was grassy and sloped lightly upwards towards the north and west. The occasional copse of trees broke the quiet monotony, along with some varieties of jumping deer. They spotted you from far away and stopped to gauge your advance. As if on command, when you got too close for their comfort, they all turned and sprang away in vaulting leaps to disappear over the next closest hilltop.

As you continued along the river bank, a round tower almost six stories tall became evident. It had been built from black masonry, marking it as ominous from far away. From your vantage point it looked like it sat on top of a short squat hill. It was eerily silent. Not even smoke emerged from it. But at this distance, it was hard to tell even the most rudimentary detail.

Camille stopped and pointed.

"That is Deviarre's tower. He's an old mage, strange as they come." She turned to Angus. "It's not meant bad."

"I haven't seen him all winter. He used to visit the town twice a month for supplies. Not a very friendly man, wouldn't really speak to anyone, but paid well. He liked to donate to the temple. That's how I met him. Rumor has it that his tower is filled with traps. He doesn't like unannounced visitors. I haven't really wanted to do it, but I think I will have to knock on his door if we don't find anything. He might have seen something... someone..."

".... He doesn't like unannounced visitors. I haven't really wanted to do it, but I think I will have to knock on his door if we don't find anything. He might have seen something... someone..."

Apparently a Priestess' work was never done!  "Are you sure?" Petar asks the lady cleric gently.  He understands her duty but surely these were mitigating circumstances.

On the other hand, this Deviarre might just know something about Exidamarall or have had recent contact with Alinda's group.

Scanning the tower quickly, the elf decides their best bet was to march up in plain sight and knock on the door.  Loudly.

"We don't want to make it look like we're sneaking up on the place .. I know what fireballs can do ..."

OOC: From your position on the east side of the river, you find the water too deep to cross at your location. You would have to either continue northwards and try to find a good place to ford it, or you can backtrack and use the bridge to get to the tower. You've been on the banks for slightly over an hour, so it's not much of a loss of time for this day.

Which one would you like to do?

"I vote to use the bridge, I can't swim and don't intend to get washed away to drown. A little exercise never hurt us."

Thinking it over, Petar frowned a little.  "Hmm, why don't we look for a ford up ahead?  Failing that, we visit the hermit on the way back instead.  That way we don't lose an entire day ..."

The elf explains: one hour south back to the bridge, cross, one hour north to the tower.  Visit.  One hour south back to the bridge, cross, and one hour north back to the precise spot they were standing now.  It meant a four hour delay at least, and who knows how long they'd be stuck talking to some crackpot.

"I mean, unless you think we have to ...?" Petar queries Camille.

One vote to continue northwards!
This message was last edited by the player at 22:01, Tue 10 Nov 2020.

If we don't find anything, the words of Camille rolled over in Aila's mind as she considered the options, and then she said, "I think perhaps it is better if we continue on our way, and then should the map not lead us where we are seeking, we can find a way over there ..."  She paused, still trying to parse through her thoughts on stand-offish wizards with trap-filled towers.  "Yes, we can do that later," she concluded, smiling brightly.

---

another vote for staying the northward course

Oswyn is intrigued by the idea of a wizard's trap filled tower, and the sorts of magical oddities it might contain, but Petar's logic and Camille's warnings of the mage not liking uninvited guests convince him that it's a place to be curious about later.

"I agree, let's stick to our course, and if we find nothing or have nothing urgent on our way back to town, we can check in with this wizard."

Third vote to continue north rather than backtrack.

"That works for me, visit the wizard on the way back." he adds his voice for going on.

Arriving at a consensus with everyone, the party continues along the river's banks, having relegated a visit to the eccentric (is there any other kind?) wizard's tower for their return trip.

Following the shore makes for an easy journey, although not necessarily for the fastest. The party makes it past the northern bend in short order, and is soon surrounded by trees in all directions. Deviarre's tower is out of sight as quickly as the thickness of the trees hides the surrounding lands from your eyes. The river's banks are now ringed by steep breaks, difficult terrain, and a good tangle of roots where the trees meet the water. The land now slopes upwards noticeably, sometimes forcing you circle around short but steep inclines where climbing is out of the question. The further you go into the forest, the thicker it gets. A mix of birch and maple trees surround you in all directions, with wild brush and undergrowth in wild ascent.

The forest is a veritable cornucopia of life, with birds and wilderbeast of all types. From small rodents and scarabs, to spiders, caterpillars, to snakes. Wild swine keep their distance from you as you are many in a group. You spot a pack of wolves nearby, just on the next hill. The pack is small, maybe over a dozen or so. They stop to evaluate you, then their attention is quickly taken as you hear a crashing of wood to the east, but can't tell what it is. The wolves stop to listen, then run away between the trees, quickly falling out of sight.

They stop to evaluate you, then their attention is quickly taken as you hear a crashing of wood to the east, but can't tell what it is. The wolves stop to listen, then run away between the trees, quickly falling out of sight.

No need to doubt the instincts of the wild.  "Let's hide too," Petar suggests quietly, stepping behind some cover.

Aila paused to watch the wolves, trying to determine whether their reaction was one of fear or that of a predator that had just heard prey.  Once she had that settled in her mind, she could better decide what to do next.

Mysh draws his sword as he ducks for cover behind a tree.  If a pack of wolves was afraid of something, it was probably something worth being afraid of.

As the party debates just what could scare a pack of wolves, you hear the crashing of someone running very fast through the forest. It appears to approach you very quickly. Right after that are even more footsteps, all rushing as fast as they can, while behind them they are also followed by a something much heavier and larger, all accompanied by a thundering growl, a heavy snapping of wood, and high pitched shrieks which you immediately recognize as goblins.

Crashing through the undergrowth and coming into view between the trees is a single woman, dressed in robes, carrying a staff and other gear, running for her life. Aside from the fact a single woman running through the woods is unusual enough, this woman is muscled like an ox. The fact that she is this strong and also bears a striking set of blonde hair reminds you of someone you know... but who?

That thought doesn't last long as right behind her are perhaps a dozen goblins running in a panic right on the woman's heels. They don't seem concerned with her right now, as all they are doing is crossing the distance as fast as they can, although the woman is certainly faster.

As the woman and the goblins do their best to cover the ground ahead of them, there comes crashing through the brush one more massive figure, large and heavy, bounding on all four legs. The creature resembles a large bear in general size (and demeanor) but it is covered in feathers instead. On the spot where you would normally see a snout and teeth rests a large predatory bird's head, like an eagle or hawk. Despite the creature's mass, it is fast and nimble, easily reaching the goblin stragglers and swiping at them with its massive forepaws. You watch in amazement as a single swing hurls a small goblin body over a dozen feet away, where it lands painfully and ceases to move. The rest of the goblins shriek in fear and continue their run.

Both the woman and the goblins will be on you in a matter of moments. You gird yourself as you suspect this might get violent.


OOC: Alright, you get to meet your new addition, and some extra stuff to add some spice. =)

This will be a first attempt to run a combat "gridless", so I am measuring distances in terms of "moves". Each one of you will have your own "move scale", based on your actual move distance, which is based on your encumbrance.

Right now, as everyone has moved and there is no surprise in any way, it is your turn. The woman before you will be in your midst in "one move", while the goblins will reach you in "two moves". The creature among them could possibly reach you in a "single move", but it seems distracted by the snacks goblins closest to it.

You are between one to two moves away from the creature and goblins, depending on your combat speed.

What would you like to do on Round 1?

Being at the rear of the party, Oswyn has his bow ready rather than his axe. When he hears the disturbance, he strings the bow and readies an arrow.

When the strange procession of woman, goblins, and bear-like creature emerge, he is somewhat shocked by the sight of it all, but takes a deep breath to calm himself. He pulls back the bow and aims, then lets the arrow fly. Unfortunately, the shaft goes wide and the arrow is lost in the undergrowth.

11:19, Today: Oswyn rolled 5,1 using 1d20+2,1d6.  fire arrow at creature.

See? Them low rolls worked well for arm wrestling, but now... :D

Combat Section:
AC 1, HP: 9/9, quiver 19/20
This message was last edited by the player at 07:27, Fri 13 Nov 2020.

This thing was not something that her skills at subtle misdirection and then attack would not be effective against, Aila decided.  In fact, she was quite sure that she did not want to get close to it--even the distance of her staff seemed too close.  The bows and perhaps magic would be much better, options which suggested that it would not be good to try to get behind the strange beast for an attack from the rear, since she could end up an inadvertent target through such actions.  These thoughts ran through her mind, as she tried to melt into the scenery.

"Can you make that thing fall asleep?" she said.  Truthfully, she did not know the limits of the magics that Petar and Angus wielded, but it seemed a fairly decent option.

"You can still take the goblin heads," she added to Angus.

---

Hide in shadows (v25):  15

The creature resembles a large bear in general size (and demeanor) but it is covered in feathers instead. On the spot where you would normally see a snout and teeth rests a large predatory bird's head, like an eagle or hawk.

Petar knew immediately his Slumbering spell would fail here, as all it would do would stop the goblins and they were not the threat right now!

"Everyone, retreat!  You!  Woman!  Get behind us!" the elf called out, hoping the stranger would listen.

A quick move later and Petar steps out from the tree and shoots the monster before falling back in classic skirmish fashion.  A loud hooting roar might mean he hurt it, or just made it angry?!  He also barked at the goblins, an idea fomenting in his mind, as he retreated.

"!" Petar cries in the gutteral goblin tongue.

Actions:

Shoot at Monster, Move 20 yards directly away back behind cover if possible
Adding 2 for DEX and 1 for assumed short range (50 yards) = 21 to hit, minus any penalties.  5 damage

Combat Section
7/7 hp, No shield ready so AC 1, 7 arrows left in quiver#1

22:20, Today: Petar the Elf rolled 19,5 using d20,d6.  Round 1 Petar Shortbow vs Big Monster.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:25, Fri 13 Nov 2020.

Surprise at the sight  of the party flashed for a moment as the short stout woman made a beeline toward them. Her arms pumped vigorously as she strode her way to there direction.

"For the love of all that is good!! RUUn!! ye fools! Unless ye have a few fireballs in ye?"

In reply to Brulna (msg # 57):

Angus steps out, "Peels"

Sleep
Range: 240'
Duration: 4d4 (4-16) turns
Effect: 2-16 Hit Dice of living creatures within a
40' square area

This spell will put creatures to sleep for up to 16 turns. It will only
affect creatures with 4 + 1 Hit Dice or less—generally, small or man-sized
creatures. The spell will not affect creatures outside the 40' X 40' area
which the player chooses as the spell's target area. The spell will not work
against undead or very large creatures, such as dragons.

When a character is first hit with a sleep spell, falling or sagging to the
ground will not wake him up. However, characters affected by a sleep spell
are not in a deep sleep. Any sleeping character or creature will awaken if
slapped, kicked, or shaken.

Characters can kill a sleeping victim with a single blow of any edged weapon,
regardless of the creature's hit points.

Your Dungeon Master will roll 2d8 to find the total Hit Dice or experience
levels of monsters affected by the spell.

The victims get no saving throw against this spell.

07:06, Today: Black Angus rolled 12 using 2d8.  affected.

07:05, Today: Black Angus rolled 7 using 4d4.  duration.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:06, Fri 13 Nov 2020.

Lland was a bit caught off guard by the hustle and the bustle of the situation. buy even though he didn't know what was coming it was almost instinct to draw his morningstar out and prepare his shield. Once you'd gone through enough combat these sorts of things became second nature, hell he even considered themselves lucky this hadn't gone down while they were all asleep, not much more embarrassing than having to engage in combat with your armor off and your pants down.

Goblins came fleeing from the trees, they were afraid, but hell goblins were cowardly creatures by nature so it could be just about anything. Then the beast emerged pursuing the goblins and woman who had come before it. Now this is what he was talking about, all this walking and he hadn't been able to throw a swing at anything. Sure it flung a goblin with one swipe, but Lland was a fair bit sturdier than any goblin. He wasn't about to let this beast get anywhere near the stranger or his compatriots, not if he had anything to say about it. He'd test the beasts resolve if it truly wished it. Lland ignoring petar's plea to retreat ran right towards the beast intending to smack it across the maw.

" oy beast ye'r in th' wrong pairt o' th' woods, allow me tae shaw ye th' wey out!"


ooc the following rolls are if I can indeed reach the creature in one turn. I'm unclear if my movement speed is actually enough but if I do reach it imma smack it. And apologies to all for this, but it's what I think he'd do.

07:17, Today: Lland Sliyed rolled 9 using 1d20+2.  To hit monstrosity .

07:18, Today: Lland Sliyed rolled 5 using 1d6+1.  Lol dmg( I so didn't hit it).




Combat section: hp-10/10. Armor class 00

Mysh had emerged from behind the tree and was about to charge the feathery beast when Black Angus began chanting.  He waits, knowing that it would be unwise to engage before the mage’s spell is resolved.

Brulna looked over her shoulder as she heard the incantation. Did that durn beast slow duwn at all?

It was clear that this beast was large, mean, and had the disposition of a cuckold who was the last one in town to know.

Oswyn, looking from behind the party, fired an arrow, but it went wide, missing by over a foot. (Miss!)

Aila didn't see any wisdom in confronting something perhaps ten times her weight. She withdrew with finesse to disappear into brush behind trees, commenting on the arcane possibilities available to party.

Petar called a general retreat, a way to make more distance and prevent the beast from approaching into melee too soon, where it's massive claws and beaks gave it a distinct advantage. His entreaty to the goblins is either not understood, or completely ignored, so far. His aim is presently better than Oswyn's, with the elven arrow finding firm perch into the creature's hide. The sudden pain and awareness of a new threat adds fuel to the fire, and the beast rises on it's rear legs, letting loose a ear-piercing shriek. (Hit! 5 Damage.)

Angus, apparently unfazed by the creature, stood and confronted it by releasing a spell. A flurry of sparks landed right before the beast, spreading in all directions like a shower of faery dust. All the goblins collapsed in mid-run, landing rough and painfully on the dirt, tripping over roots, their momentum carrying them a few yards onward. The creature, though, didn't seem affected.

Lland was finally happy he faced a challenge. The day to day routine of travelling was getting to him, and he needed to let go of all that pent-up aggression. With a few well-placed steps, he approached the creature and swung his morning star. The star's head smashed into the beast's hide but didn't find a vulnerable spot. Between the feathers and the leathery skin, the blow didn't manage to push through the creature's natural defenses.
[OOC: No worries about not knowing the distances. In cases like this, simply declare what you are aiming to do, and what, if anything, you'd like the result to be, and I'll let you know what happens.]

The mighty warrior Mysh understood the subtleties of a party's warrior-to-mage dynamics. Waiting for the mage to release arcane destruction, he cautiously observed the outcome.

Sowen prepared his sword and took up his shield. Coming in behind Lland, he was far more cautious against this beast, seeing as he was wearing leather and his dwarven companion was clad in metal from head to toe. He approached from the side and swung freely at the creature.

"Dwarf, you might need an axe more than a mace for this one."

With the creature distracted, Sowen found a place right under the fore haunches and sliced a wide gash into the creature's side. (Hit! 7 Damage - 12 Total)

Olagh, watching his brother rush ahead, turned to the right and found a spot away from the beast at an angle. There he loaded an arrow, aimed carefully, and released. The arrow met the creature's body but was cast aside, failing to push past the thick hide. (Miss.)



Round 2

The goblins had ceased to move altogether. The creature, angry and hurt now, lost interest in them and faced down the incoming form of Lland. Reaching ahead, its paws swiped at he dwarf, but surprisingly enough, Lland managed to avoid the beast's fury, moving deftly out of the way. (Miss! Miss!)

That's when Sowen cut deeply into the beast, drawing its attention. Realizing his impending position, he prepared his shield. "Ah shit!", is all he had to say. The creature turned and bit, but the man-at-arms was prepared, and avoided the danger with a quick step back. (Miss!)

---

OOC: Your turn, gents. So far so good. The dice roller has been generous to you this round. All very low rolls. And you've been able to give it some major hurting. Another round like this, with everyone involved, and this creature won't stand a chance.

Thankfully, the beastie was so huge that Petar had no problem choosing a target in its bizarre flanks.  Whether it sported fur or feathers, no matter!

After loosing his latest arrow, the elf bustled to a new position but ensured he stayed withing short range.  Petar looked for Camille in the action, was she closing in for melee?

Actions Round 2:

As last round, Shoot at Monster, Move back up to to 50 yards but no farther.

Adding 2 for DEX and 1 for assumed short range (50 yards) = 16 to hit, minus any penalties.  2 damage

Combat Section
7/7 hp, No shield ready so AC 1, 6 arrows left in quiver#1

21:02, Today: Petar the Elf rolled 13,2 using d20,d6.  Round 2 Petar Shortbow vs AvianUrsine.

In reply to Petar the Elf (msg # 63):

Angus swings his staff at the owlbear, but misses!

08:56, Today: Black Angus rolled 13 using 1d20.  to hit.

The adrenaline was gushing through Lland's veins now. Perhaps charging a creature like he had was reckless and a bad idea but it was better in his mind to risk one life to save many, and if he didn't trust his backup then this arrangement was never gonna work anyways.

His first blow had been disappointing to say the least, but the thrill of battle was living on the edge of life and death, a test of mettles and metals. He managed to dodge a blow from the beast and then Sowen arrived like a badass. Lland surged with even more energy when he saw Sowens maneuver and consequent He was already up close and the beast had turned it's head to bite Sowen, his only option would be try smacking it in the side of the head, maybe spike a soft spot. No way it was all there after that slice from Sowen.

12:17, Today: Lland Sliyed rolled 20 using 1d20+2.  Face Smack to Foul Beastie.

12:22, Today: Lland Sliyed rolled 5 using 1d6+3.  Dmg:1d6+1, strength mod +2.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:42, Thu 19 Nov 2020.

Realizing the spell has been resolved, Mysh screams like a cuckolded basilisk as he charges the creature, seeking to distract as well as injure.  He swings his bastard sword with one hand, as he shield-bashes with the other.  Unfortunately, his wild approach yields imprecise results.

16:09, Today: Mysh rolled 3 using 1d2+2.  Shield dam (?).
16:08, Today: Mysh rolled 10 using 1d20+2.  To hit w/ horned shield.
16:08, Today: Mysh rolled 4 using 1d6+3.  Sword damage(?).
16:08, Today: Mysh rolled 10 using 1d20+2.  To hit w/ one-handed bastard sword.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:10, Thu 19 Nov 2020.

While he knows he only has a short time before Wyrd catches up to him, Oswyn isn't ready to submit today. Also, it's already a bit crowded up around the beast. So, the dwarf circles to the left to that he can get a clean shot at the creature's flank.

He fires off his shaft, hoping none of the companions zig or zag into the path of the arrow before it can hit the creature.

06:50, Today: Oswyn rolled 15,2 using 1d20+3,1d6.  shortbow (+2 dex, +1 range) hit/damage.

The muscular witch looked at the others who stood to fight. It would be what me sister would be about. The witch moved her hands in a circular motion and a bright yellow hue begun to show and flashed in the form a arrow at the monster.

Cast Magic Missile
16:38, Today: Brulna rolled 4 using 1d6+1 ((3)).
This message was last edited by the player at 22:39, Thu 19 Nov 2020.

Petar kept a respectful distance from the beast, looking to maximize his missile advantage. He stepped into cover behind another set of trees, just a few yards further away than his previous position. From there, he aimed and loosened another arrow at his prey. This time, as the creature was standing, it towered several feet above the heads of his companions, allowing him to easily fire at his upper body. The arrow found its mark in the creature's hide, piercing the thick layers of fat and sinew, drawing blood and a cry from the creature. (Hit! 2 Damage - 14 total)

Not content to simply stand and allow his magic to do the talking for him, Angus crossed the short distance and slammed his staff into the creature's side. While the swing was solid, it was a glancing blow at its side, easily shrugged off by a creature of this mass. (Miss.)

Camille, having gathered her wits again, charged at the creature and took an aggressive position next to Oswyn. Her mace arced high over her head, but the weapon missed by a hair's breadth. She recovered gracefully from the massive swing, returning to a defensive position in a few moments.

Lland followed his previous strike with a second one aimed high. Despite his best attempts, the most he could reach was the beast's shoulders, and a good blow it was at that. He felt the impact of the star's head on the beasts shoulder, and a solid crack was audible. Once again, the creature roared out in pain and rage, turning to face this new source of agony. (Hit. 5 Damage - 19 total)

Mysh, satisfied he would not be in the spell's area of effect, now runs towards the beast, fully intending to skewer it onto his dinner plate. However, he underreaches greatly, swinging his sword in a tight arc intended to keep his companions out of the way. The swing is too cautious, barely scratching at the creature's hide, tearing out some fur and feathers, but nothing further. The follow-up strike with the shield came too late, completely failing to connect with the beast's frame. (Miss & Miss.)

Oswyn circles the melee looking for the right opening. And there it was, between Angus and Lland, a short window of sight of the entire creature's upright form, ready to strike clawed death at his harassers. His aim proves true, although the arrow catches the creature at an angle, allowing it escape what might have otherwise been a very deep would. As it is, it was a light piercing. (Hit. 2 Damage - 21 total)

At the rear of the group, the woman known as Brulna witnessed the courageous actions by this group, and she remembered a family member who would be this stubborn in the face of such fury. She decided to take action. Calling forth arcane formulas promising death, a yellow arrow of light appeared before her. With but a simple gesture she commanded the arrow at the creature. It flew straight and clear, right Oswyn and Camille, and struck the beast in the midsection, drawing forth a shower of arcane sparks mixed with moxous flame. (Hit. 4 Damage - 25 total)

The creature, battered, cut, pierced, bashed, and now burned, roared out one more time. Its cry was now more agonized that angry. It stumbled, falling to its forelimbs again. It tried to strike at its attackers in vain, losing strength by the moment. Finally, with one last sad whimper, it collapsed to the ground, motionless.

Sowen stood at guard, watching the creature's reactions. He approached cautiously, put one foot on its body, and pushed. The creature didn't budge. He then aimed the tip of his sword at the middle point of the creature's chest, and drove his blade all the way to the hilt into it.

"Just to be safe."

Olagh put his last arrow away, and approached the group pensively.

"One thing's for sure. We aren't going hungry tonight."

---

OOC: Ok, finally got this post out.

Alright! Nice fight. It went down quick and decisively. Well done.

What's next? There's still all the sleeping goblins around. Although I think I know what Angus will do.

And we have a new word definition: Moxous (adjective)
A type of fiery side effect of certain spells when they discharge their lethal energies that takes on the form of red flame which has a deeper blood red edge, fading into an almost black hue.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:37, Thu 26 Nov 2020.

Frustrated, Mysh slams his sword back into its scabbard.  He spits on the ground close to the fallen beast’s head.  “You really think it’s safe to eat that?  I’ll bet it’s full of worms that live inside your entrails, until they finally squirm all the way to your brain.  Once they there, they make you feel sorry for goblins.”

Brulnas heart still thumped in her chest. She wiped her face with her muscular forearm before gradually walking up to one of the sleeping goblins. As she rubbed the large knot on her head. Brulnas face furrowed in unmistakable anger and she crashed her mace down with all of her might.

"Sorry... my name be Brulna. These gublins attacked me last evening whilst I slept. If ye don't mind. May I join your group? I would feel safer..."

In reply to Brulna (msg # 71):

Angus goes and slits the throat of every goblin then starts taking heads, including the ones the owlbear killed. "Welcome to the party, you remind me of a former companion, Marille! Take the owlbears head too, we may as well see if there is a reward for it as well/"

Oswyn unstrings and stows his bow. Then he draws his axe as he approaches the scene of the battle. "I'll get that owlbear head, alright."

Hefting the axe, he brings it down three times before the head is cleanly separated from the body.

In reply to Oswyn (msg # 73):

"I'm Angus Brulna, a wizard of no repute yet but someday, . . . . I saw the Magic Missile you cast so know you have the power as well. Is yours natural, or do you study a book as I do? Sorry for all of this." ha says wiping the blood from his hands and extending his hand if she takes it.

Calling forth arcane formulas promising death, a yellow arrow of light appeared before her. With but a simple gesture she commanded the arrow at the creature. It flew straight and clear, right Oswyn and Camille, and struck the beast in the midsection, drawing forth a shower of arcane sparks mixed with moxous flame.

Whatever sorcery had been required, the stopping power of the magic missile was undeniable.  With the bird-beast slain, Petar hurries over and surveys the carnage.  The elf keeps quiet, scanning the woods for more interlopers, such as goblin stragglers or the frenzied cries of the beast's mate.

"I'm not sure that's fit to eat," Petar says, intrigued by the chimeric nature of the monster but also wholly unsure if it was animal or magical in nature.  It looked like a wizard's trick gone very wrong, and he doesn't inspect it for too long beyond taking several large bizzare feathers.

"Sorry... my name be Brulna. These gublins attacked me last evening whilst I slept. If ye don't mind. May I join your group? I would feel safer..."

He is glad to welcome another magic-user to the party, hoping everyone would accept the woman's entreaty as Petar continues the introductions all around.  "We are searching this area for a place of danger, I can't say you will be any safer with us!"

OOC: missed the word "between" there. Oops.

In reply to Black Angus (msg # 74):

Brulna slipped her mace back in place on a loop on her belt. She looked at the debauchery with little surprise before she grasped the mage by the wrist. "To be honest I felt the spark inside me before I know what it were. I paid for a spellbook and practiced the arcane missile for weeks before I could call upon it daily." The muscular witch didn't say much more as she took in the group.

In reply to Brulna (msg # 77):

"Perhaps I can teach you my spell and you can teach me yours!"

In reply to Petar the Elf (msg # 75):

Brulna regarded the fare elven man before she said, "it has te be safer than a single woman by herself in the wilds? My bump on me forehead shows what can happen."

In reply to Black Angus (msg # 78):

"Sure I had the intention of speaking with the elves about magic, but wasn't admitted." The burly muscular woman shrugged.

Lland roared to the sky as the beast fell. A swift victory against an intimidating mark. Sure it was a miracle he had escaped unscathed but to Lland he was self admittedly the bravest of the company in a privately self indulgent streak but he only bragged about how brave he was to strangers. This motly crew admittedly had some real potential for the big adventuring bucks he was sure they all strived for.  Lland carved off o e of the beasts claws for a trophy/ kill proof to whom it may concern.

He very carefully placed a handprint of blood on his morning Star to mark the first kill since it had been cleaned.

He turned to Sowen,"what wis that aboot needing an axe?" He Chortled holding up the beast's claw still dripping  blood and other unseemly juices.

Lland was Impressed by the new muscular magic lady,he labeled her generally. In his experience magic users had so many factions and types he avoided being corrected and lectures on the different branches of magic by not asking. He approached Bruna and dropped to one knee, dropping his head to bow.


"lady they ca' me lland o' th' sliyed clan. Kin mah morningstar leid yer wey 'n' guard yer honor. Ah Welcome ye tae oor humble assortment."

"I am no lady, dwarf. But thank ye and well met." To further the point Brulna grasped the dwarf and using her strength of being raised on a farm lifted the proper dwarf to his feet. "Where are ye going?"

Brulna regarded the fare elven man before she said, "it has te be safer than a single woman by herself in the wilds? My bump on me forehead shows what can happen."

"It is wilder at this spot, but we are not even a day's walk from Emberdell, a village and safe haven.  Our current destination, however, is a place of evil, at least in theory," Petar explains.  He wasn't sure the woman knew precisely where she was and so gives general directions as well as a quick explanation that many people were missing, including the Priestess Camille's sister, and they had were heading towards a place where she may be being held prisoner by orcs, or worse.

The elf seems a little pained: polite practice would be to offer the traveler an escort to town but that would delay the rescue mission by yet another day.  "If you are sure you want to come with us, then it makes for the best possible outcome," Petar eventually says.

Mysh smirks as he look Brulna over.  Oh great... another girl who can beat me up.

In reply to Petar the Elf (msg # 83):

"Thank you good elf, I will stay with ye all. Maybe you and ...Angus can help me with spells."

Oswyn doffs his helmet and gives Brulna a bow. "Oswyn, at your service."

In reply to Oswyn (msg # 86):

"I must ask.... why are you removing the goblins heads?" Brulna tried not to look at the bag. "Hello to you as well. I am considered a witch where I grew up on a farm. There is no need to bow too me. Just a simple woman who was born with the spark. So no I do no consider meself a witch."

In reply to Brulna (msg # 87):

"We get a bounty for every goblin, orc, ogre or giant we kill. We take their heads as proof they are dead, I'm a wizard, and no, you don't need to bow to me either." he says with a grin.

Oswyn dons his helmet once more, with a shrug. "Just being polite. And there's more kinds of magic in this world than you might think. Just who's a 'witch' and who's a 'proper mage' is a silly waste of time, if you ask me. Welcome to the company, Brulna."

In reply to Oswyn (msg # 89):

"Welcome to you too Oswyn, you've been blooded now!" Angus says with a smile wiping the blood from his blade from harvesting heads.

Trying to learn more about the immediate area, Petar asks Brulna where her farm is, and how she came to be running from goblins and monsters.

He searches the goblins, looking to see if they had traveling supplies or similar provisions.  Otherwise, it meant they lived close by.  Petar also looks for valuables as well as any arrows.

As Petar examines the goblins for anything they might have been carrying, he manages to get two arrows still in working condition. The goblins carried a small number of coins that seems to be of orc make (7 copper pieces), but are still copper. Otherwise they looked like a scouting party with crude knifes. But they don't seem to have any larger weapons on them. Perhaps they left them behind when they started running?

As Angus finishes cutting the heads off and putting them into his sack, and Brulna makes introductions with everyone, Petar notices that a group of individuals are coming into view from between the trees, from the north. It looks like a band of orcs, tribal nomads, if their red skin is any indication. They approach in the open, with weapons, spears and crude choppers, in plain sight and put away. They wear leather hides as armor and for warmth, as well as crudely made metal bracers and belts. They only get to within twenty yards when they stop and call out to you as a group.

[Language unknown: "Com llil dinichher re acninofifo. Nti has isniut be ugh hiomce fi. The ionom p ostoil u ouneraort. Usnce ieeswi nc korredble a essil utfofo. N, Fofoin, llsaon nclo p ac latsanent popedi."]

He pounds his fist on his chest, and raises his spear to the sky, calling out a shrill battle cry. His fellow orc warrior, eight more besides him, repeat the gestures he does.

[Language unknown: "Line ierat ionforove il ll somas atesetter tinickis?"]

Regnok looks expectantly at you. The other orc warriors are hard to read. They remain stoic and silent.

In reply to Game Master (msg # 92):

"What did he say? I don't speak orc."

Mysh draws his sword and adjusts his shield to be sure it fits snugly on his left forearm.  “Eeek yuck bech blah bub hack hick chub marenga to you, too, Bub.  Thanks but no thanks; I’ve already had sex this week.”

Petar ignores the copper junk but snags the arrows, replacing the two buried in the mass of monster.

"These goblins aren't carrying much, so they might live near here .. maybe another warren like the one we found yesterday," Petar muses.

It looks like a band of orcs, tribal nomads, if their red skin is any indication. They approach in the open, with weapons, spears and crude choppers, in plain sight and put away.

"Orc tribesmen," Petar says.  "Barbaric but not immediately enemies."

"They want to share the kill.  I think if we talk to them we can learn a little bit about the area," the elf adds.  Petar wonders if the others will agree as he says something to the leader orc.

"[Language unknown: Wh tiosetith ons Aselpr.  Taere fi es nt was linthumen, oulte ngla rilidiro caevto red o tic on niere teriouintconantich ishandosei]."

Brulna looked apprehensively at the orcs, but she was taken aback when the elf spoke orc to the band.

In reply to Brulna (msg # 96):

"Tell them to move on when they are done so we do not have to hunt them down and kill them. Otherwise, they are welcome to them. The owlbear will feed them for days."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:40, Sun 29 Nov 2020.

The orcs withdraw a short distance, giving you space to consider their request. They move to a shaded space where they sit and start exchanging words quietly.

Mysh laughs coldly.  “Not immediately enemies?  Those are orcs, you pointy-eared fool!  Methinks you’re a bit too eager to show off that crafty tongue of yours.”

Special Message for Petar [Secret Message]

Mysh laughs coldly.

"The orcs we fought yesterday were the slaving, tyrannical sort indeed.  But, these are a different caste with a different worldview," Petar says with a nod towards the tribesmen.  He asks Camille if such nomads are commonly seen in these parts and how the Emberdell locals deal with them: cautious trading, polite respect, or open warfare.

Petar suspects that because they did not immediately attack that the usual relations between these orcs and the locals was at least as friendly as prejudices and stereotypes allowed.

Aila melted back into view from where she had observed the strange creature and the fight, glad that she had stayed out of the way of the arrows.

"You will have to teach me the tongue," she said to Petar, "I might be able to learn more that way.  Yes, share the kill--see what we can learn."  She looked to Mysh and added, "Were they immediately enemies, the battle would already be joined, they would not be sitting and waiting for a response.  It may well be that orcs are as varied as any of the peoples."

Mysh considers asking Petar which monastery he graduated from, but keeps his thoughts to himself for the moment.  Needless to say, he has a far more traditionalist attitude toward orcs!

"You will have to teach me the tongue," she said to Petar

"I just know the trader version," Petar admits.  He'd been exposed to dozens of languages in a mish-mash fashion but only a few had kept his interest long enough to learn the basics.  He chuckles.  "Apparently there is so much slang and perversion in the various orc languages that it would make even halfling poets uncomfortable!"

He was still interested in hearing Camille's opinions on these orcs, but as it seemed they were all agreed to peace - at least for now - the elf approaches Regnok and his band in a neutral manner and asks his questions directly to the orc leader as he supposes would satisfy their barbaric heirarchy.

"[Language unknown: M tiovorrom kor blewilles.  Onta, alni has etinof enint ut.  Neur o, ckom rerat and he dient?  U bele isect oneessrattho uneiol enfist waouheil stolic, eial.  Tr ounce wiec insspo dayardant omeenckor not?  Er eau istio nestmo din ted und?  Ceut prprha ouosom]?"

Lland remained rather quiet on the ongoing leg of the trip. The monster fight proved that shit was ready to pop out at them and someone had to be on their game and catch threats early. He was glad Bruna would be joining them on their journey, a strong and humble magic user intrigued Lland and his very physical-world approach to life. He didn't fully understand magic so it had always impressed him.

Lland was on guard the second he saw that there was a group of orcs, he didn't know whether this was gonna lead to a fight but he had seen good men due at orchand and that wasn't something he easily forgot. He took his morningstar from his back and held it casually on his chest, not in an intimidating way but so everyone was aware it was best they got along. Not that Lland was afraid of violence but also he wasn't just going around killing orcs just cause,not even his grudge ran that deep.

Brulna watched the exchange between the man and the elf. Then amazed that the elf could interact with the orcs. Now all she could think about was Angus with the heads in a sack. This will be exciting, I wonder if sister is having as much excitement?

Mysh’s ears perk up as he hears the phrase ‘slang and perversion.’  It made studying orcish languages sound downright interesting.  Maybe more than it should.  Still, he keeps his sword ready, in case the party returned to the business (and from his point of view, pleasure) of killing orcs.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:35, Thu 03 Dec 2020.

Camille watched in tense anticipation as Petar spoke with the approaching orcs. As the exchange concluded, and they left to take a position nearby, her expression was one of curious surprise, but she put her mace away none the less.

Petar replied, "The orcs we fought yesterday were the slaving, tyrannical sort indeed.  But, these are a different caste with a different worldview."

He asked Camille if such nomads are commonly seen in these parts and how the Emberdell locals deal with them: cautious trading, polite respect, or open warfare.

"I, for one, have not met these ones before. They are ... red. The only orcs I have seen are green-skins, and they as orc as Mysh thinks they are. They come close, attack, steal, and kill. The guards drive them away, and sometimes we lose a few of them if the fights are more than just skirmish. If they," she nods towards the orcs, "are willing to talk, can you ask them if they have seen someone like my sister?"

Her curiosity is evident, but she is holding herself back, knowing that it is Petar who can speak the language.

Petar approached the group again and spoke more words in their tongue.

The same one who spoke earlier rose and answered.

[Language unknown: "Th, a mison ounis o ove ut erul t, ul n fordi wewi ons iting nte. Ati ourong estillwil, ri ng ri waoles, undoulhas'ncehou. Ri elwiri,"] he points at Angus, [Language unknown: "p ut resteroer ronaol, undprolatthe o was ie mo red tisausriwh is nestr whi ncol t ardavevir.

U der la usaltiek cead andatemenwil m pro. M ersyinion ce ma moven mo ad teplti on et ic. K betha wancee e wi eisien oun le t io.

P pa ckal ershisintlat el arevorain etaist noven lateti. Hou she yinou ta aveie loiolepe chit ri icane nteearing, n ounll beho a mawi neus. Nite he nc ri peoflo thuconlar. Ne ofkor wa ilsslo,"] he points in a direction roughly North-North-East, [Language unknown: "ri tewas andtr la wihe isncwhom. Le tramenset plha an ant be nceviromeanteau plpl, si weti ul me his mi eauprewil.

Esoul iouur, ssstmo ri ant omeereate ckar. Wi ie arsta ainvirugh. Sa t ivethethu. Str ismeet, unshe ulmiri seant weei iousfo. Reaonsnti tha ee traastmen, teesei as no. Avend ure saant, onlat tra etus wil casain m sta ssul sias. Re es li nailwaen menousers fiinei tedughtin, all houpl e urad ioenalse. Chwhe hertioday t setnd a taomnt k art. Derivedin ugh nolola, lopr omivli echi tole t pa ectla."]

The orc gestured at his warriors and they rose as a group towards the creature. With practiced hands they began the task of skinning the beast, gutting it, cleaning it, and stripping the meat into parts, separating the unwanted, unneeded parts away in a nearby pile. A pair of them began digging a hole to burry the entrails and ofal. They only cut parts of the rump away, taking about one quarter of the beast's meat, leaving the rest to you. Between all of them working together, cleaning and stripping the beast was going to be done in record time.

Olagh had his hands on his bow the entire time, and paced lightly back and forth as Petar and the orc speaker talked. As soon as the orcs moved to the carcass, he became visibly tense and moved a few more yards away from them, his bow still in hand.

Sowen noticed and walked to his brother's side. They exchanged a few quiet words. Sowen sat down on the ground, planting himself on a large root outcropping from a nearby tree. He picked out a fallen half-rotten branch and started stripping the bark off it with a small knife.

Olagh, watching his brother, smiled and started correcting him on the proper procedure on how to efficiently prepare arrow shafts with sub-standard wood. In no time at all they were joking and laughing again.

Aila watched the interaction between Petar and the orcs with visible curiosity upon her face.  She seemed to almost be fairly bursting to ask about what he had learned from them, and then with less interest watched the dressing of the strange creature--dressing game was, more or less, a common activity.

She waited quietly for Petar to return to the group, hoping that he might tell without prompting about the conversation.

Petar approached the group again and spoke more words in their tongue.

As per Camille's request, Petar asked after Alinda: "[Language unknown: Wh thual wh venessnot, er se bleen laofth, olas tinwerted eepl na .. onesheenc.  Omes eeli hata beave saain mashe]?"

He spoke slowly and listened carefully, and sometimes had to interpolate a meaning.  To Petar, these red orcs were clearly different from the ones at the barrow and he doubted that one caste knew much of each other.  As honourific warriors, they would be fair traders and vengeful foes.  Or so the elf believes, anyway.

After Regnok is done, Petar ends the exchange with a polite word to well-wishing and returns to the party.

"These red orcs are different, no doubt," he says.  Petar points out they were very impressed with how the group fought against the bird monster.  "I suppose they see such creatures as epitomes of strength and thus, slaying beasts like that earns their respect.  They say in particular that Angus is a fierce warrior for battling it face to face with no armour!"

Petar chuckles at the irony, for a mage was never without weapons or armour, even if he looked overmatched.

"They warn about large numbers of green and amber drakes in these parts - so many that they are leaving these lands for now.  Also, they say that traveling north by north east to the base of the mountains will get us into orc territory.  Proper.  So I think we can avoid that for now, and we definitely should hurry to our destination as well."

Mysh sighs with relief.  The way things had been going, he’d half expected the party to vote to join the red orc tribe.  He still wasn’t convinced there was more than one kind of good orc.

“Do these drakes breathe fire?” he asks cheerfully.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:17, Fri 04 Dec 2020.

I didn't have Mage Armor up. I would have died had he hit me.

The ork speaker turned to look at Camille, who was exercising the most restraint Petar had ever seen the young princess do, and answered slowly.

[Language unknown: "E hareenlibe stimenlat ensain, ck st? Res rat n ome vorad almese ho tinlarine? Ioint... acmaan nd tho alles esver... en it taalllhe wi."] The orc took a moment to think. [Language unknown: "Ho ilonolre it atibleain, urhi m whifi ne heno an cawhomou, dayiouout, fotopo, ndhipe, ar no blesettha unse lech eesath mare notencund ble. En ek ol ol der me pret onch t teto acalst wehima, li ad sider ar arrom iveithsan, st hatme hone, neheng asect ainevevir, rom ovesontio eve are e ancewise. Ta ove beol under onelesher, sta ar proll. Ce oniv tr en ereiouure."] He points in a north-eastern direction. [Language unknown: "I prelatsta ureherand, ol pl pa asan ectei whng fint si. Ulnte o ant ticas si herwherom sievpl erswh int ekneiohepo. Bepain whpro ntaius, k fo ainreaund saho eentedvir. Siove oulsonear ithaticom, foare ous for ioev. Niio andvircom it, larnc penapr heres, ioth ofhas sanyinons. Canc ent ngthsi bedi. Ill omemansti was."]

One of the other orcs, overhearing the conversation, stands and approaches Regnok.

[Language unknown: "Ar ure chinck was,"] he says curtly, offering a small medallion. It is a battered holy symbol of Chiress set to a small broken silvered chain.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:53, Fri 04 Dec 2020.

It is a battered holy symbol of Chiress set to a small broken silvered chain.

Petar offers to trade for the amulet, offering anything he can think of that they might find useful.  Gold, food, the owlbear feathers, that orc knife he took yesterday.  "[Language unknown: Wipren, nd inur hockll andwasany iv kor sanherone sasiun ...]"

He feels a mix of anxiety and excitement as he shares the news with the party.

"They say they witnessed from afar a night battle between warriors - humans, dwarves, elves - and green orcs as well as 'stick men' .. I assume those are the Exidamarall undead skeletons," Petar reports.

"Apparently drakes were involved too, and the adventurers ran off.  Regnok's red orcs felt it wasn't their place to intervene; they waited and then searched the carnage.  Three dead adventurers but not Alinda, although they found this symbol."

Assuming he can trade for it, otherwise ignore this next sentence:

Petar hands it over to Camille.

***

"It happened that way .. we may be able to find the battle site and at least offer the dead a proper burial and then find the trail of the others.  They should still be alive, somewhere in these hills, although after a week or so in the wilderness, who knows what shape they will be in."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:11, Fri 04 Dec 2020.

Brulna looked on impassively, from the exchange to the elves ability to win some sort of respect from the orcs was a surprise. Thank de heavens my sis wasn't here. She would have attacked any orc on sight alone. A silent chuckle escaped her mouth. The mage placed a fist over mouth to make the laugh seem like a cough.

"Is there a significance to the color of the drakes, as there is with the orcs?" asked Aila.

The world, as she was discovering since her departure from the monastery for the "time of learning", was a place full of curiosities.  It almost seemed like it would be hard to return, rather than exploring these curiosities, although at least the time of learning could be as long as she felt the need.

She nodded, "It does seem, then, that we are on the right path, and we'll be able to bury--or at least make a proper pyre--the dead when we find this battle place."

"Me read once that there be a difference in the type of dragon from chromatic and uhuh... colored? Green is not good... brass or gold would be good. If you know what I mean." Brulna scratched her head as she tried to pry some memory from a tome she had read before.

In reply to Brulna (msg # 118):

"You wouldn't have a sister named Marille would you Brulna?" Angus asked her.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:31, Sat 05 Dec 2020.

At these words, Sowen stood up and approached.

"Be careful with the drakes. A few of them could be dangerous to us. Especially the green ones. They are vicious. But the ember ones are too, just a little less. We should avoid them if we can."

In reply to Black Angus (msg # 119):

Brulna's eyes narrowed, "how do you know that name?" Her fists clenched.

Camille rushed to Petar's side and took the medallion. She turned it around nervously, and finally exhaled when she looked at it's backside. Tears fells down her eyes.

"It's hers."

She showed the elf an engraved inscription in western common. It read,

"To My Dearest Sister, May The Light Of The Mother Shine Your Way Home."

"There is still a chance."

Turning to the orcs she said "Thank you."

Looking back at Petar and nodding, her eyes gave away her strong desire to move ahead. She took another deep breath, then turned and rejoined the rest of the group.

The orc leader laid his hand on his warrior's shoulder. The warrior nodded and returned to the band.

Petar dutifully translates for Camille and hopes the orcs are empathetic enough to grasp the magnitude of the value of the personal item.  "Yes, still a chance," the elf says to the Priestess as he gives her a hopeful smile.

While the others were chatting about drakes and Marilles, Petar quickly gathers his stuff so they can move out and head to the spot of the night battle.

"She adventured with us for a short time, but decided it wasn't the life for her and retired from it the other day. Her 'boulders' are huge, a VERY strong woman, so she IS your sister! Magnificent!" he says with a grin. "I feel I know you already!"

Lland gripped his weapon itching to get to the smack down but it seemed that the red orca weren't much of a threat to them. Apparently Angus was their bravest warrior, must have forgotten how Lland was the first to charge while everyone stayed back because it was scary. He would just wait until the party was ready to move again. Drake's or no drake's they would handle each conflict as it came up.

It made sense that this was Marille's sister, the muscles gave it away, and he was a fan of strong ladies with muscles. He had had his share of ladies before but with a woman of quality you had to really inoress them, and hopefully every monster he took down on their journey would help towards impressing Brulna.

In reply to Black Angus (msg # 124):

Brulna rubbed her face. "silly gurl.. ya the is my sister. We left the farm because we weren't the norm. Boulders?" Brulna shook her head then smiled.

Oswyn cleans his axe blade while the others talk. He's got nothing to say to the orcs, not that he speaks their language anyway, and he's not overly concerned with anyone's "boulders." He figures he'll be dead long before he meets a suitable dwarven bride, so why bother?

He waits for the others to finish up, and then continue on their way to the mysterious "x" on the map.

OOC: Ok, back on the helm on this one.

Been a busy and dizzying week, but it is now over.

Now, there were two suggestions on as to where to proceed next:

1. Continue on the agreed-to plan to seek the X on the map, or
2. Attempt to find the location of this "conflict" in an attempt to find more information on the whereabouts of Alinda.

Where shall it be?

The conflict first to find the trail of the sister.

OOC: Go to the "X"

"What will we do? I will follow and try to make my sis proud. I pledge to find out what happened to your sister."" Brulna tapped her chest with a fist and smiled at Camille.

"I believe we will be headed toward this battle site," said Aila.  "It's fresher information than we had.  We may still end up heading to the 'x' on the map before we're done, but I think it's only a minor adjustment to our path."

"Yes, there's no way to know if the survivors of the night battle knew about Exidamarall or had any reason to go there," Petar reasons.  "It was our only clue before .. but now we know more."

He reminds them they found the map on a body of a scholar that had fall afoul of stirges; only goblins were a common link and it was hardly emphatic evidence, to the elf, that it meant that finding the source of the skull and most likely the necromancer would automatically mean finding Alinda and any other survivors.

"Let's see what clues there are to find and decide from there!"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:13, Mon 14 Dec 2020.

Lland waited patiently, he wasn't sure he knew all of the backstory bwhindbwhatvPetar was talking about but he had enough respect to continue obliviously and nod his head in agreement. The details had never been his forte, he was pretty strictly the muscle of a brain/brawn dynamic. Just point him in the right direction and tell the baddies not to wet themselves too badly.

"ready fur whitevur lang as we fin' some coin alang th' wey. Gotta eat." Lland rubbed his belly sending respect to the deities of meals past.

Having decided to look for more information on the whereabouts of Camille's sister, Alinda, the party heads out in the direction given by the orcs towards the location of the conflict. You bid the orc party farewell, but they surprise you by offering to take you to the right spot.

[Language unknown: "St werhounde korni towas ti. Foons sa anecnena, acnaweai. Naha ioent anyei oreardher n ne arngas. Etss ainun all a i utrire ce, naonch en venno."]

As you begin your journey, the terrain in that direction is mostly moderately dense forested hills, with uneven ground and the beginnings of rocky outcroppings pushing through the soil. Most of the scattered rocky surfaces are deeply covered in moss or lichens, where they are heavily exposed to the elements. The tree canopies keep the sunlight away from the forest floor, making the air cool and the surroundings dim to the sight. Your progress is slow, but steady.

The orc chieftain calls out two of his warriors and speaks several commands to them. The chosen orcs nod stoically and move ahead of the group at a run.

[Language unknown: "Ncngac. P ons io ma heil a thothuble hiekprne. A inut holo o acioas laev u mo ndekad o est e trtemo omou icneut e ce icel t astshedaystr."]

Based on the angle of light coming through the trees you gather you've travelled for another quarter of a day. You find yourselves breaking out of the trees into a hilly clearing which leans heavily downwards into a south-western direction. Light shrubs and wild grasses are the most prominent greenery here, and there are several small rocky promontories towards the center of the space. You venture they would make a good camping spot for anyone in the area.

The orc leader stops, points at the rocks, and speaks.

[Language unknown: "Stiherore. Evund e ri ulrori. Fila a leonri os actiss asthounceons."]

As you approach the area you notice what used to be an encampment here: torn tents and broken tent poles arrayed in a small area where mostly dirt is present. A cold ring of stones used as a firepit. There are animal prints of all kinds in the dirt, from small critters like rodents and badgers, to larger beasts like wolves, deer, bears, and elk, that have crossed this area at some recent point.

The orcs take you to the edge of an area you surmise is where the fight happened. Several dead bodies, human, humanoid, and drake, lie about the ground, in deeply advanced states of decomposition. Three of humanoid shapes are armored in various forms of metal and leather. You can tell by their general size and shape, and also the craftmanship of their equipment, that they were human, elven, and dwarven. Their weapons are nowhere to be found.

Around the area are also a number of what look to be bundled bunches of sticks, like the type you would use to sell as fireplace fire starters or to beat dust off of rugs or clothes on a hanging line. They are packed tightly and bound heavily using rough twine. Most of these bundles of sticks appear to have been broken or cut, at various lengths of their construction. However, some of them are put together enough to give you the impression that they have a vaguely humanoid shape to them: a main body, a pair of arms and legs, and something resembling a head, none more than four feet tall. The pieces you find scattered around the area look like they've been torn or cut off from these man-like frames.

The orc leader says [Language unknown: "taseio iou"] as he points at the bundled sticks.

The dead bodies of the drakes reveal creatures that resemble flying lizards, but unlike dragons, which have four legs and a pair of arms for their wings, the drakes only have two legs and two arms, to which their leathery wings are attached. They resemble the fabled wyverns more than any dragon illustrations you may have seen before. They are about the size of an fully grown human or elf, with a large pointed head filled with serrated teeth. Carnivores. Their decaying eye sockets reveal what should be large eyes, good for seeing at a distance. Their leathery hides are strong, but not so tough that a good edge would not cut through them. They have short tails, half the length of their bodies again. With their extended arms, you figure they would have a wingspan somewhere between six to eight feet. Their bodies look relatively light and thin, yet muscular. A small set of sharp claws ends the far end of each wing, which looks like they could be used to rend and tear at prey in their grasp. The bodies lying here all have a green coloration to their hides. It looks like they died from cuts and very heavy blows.

Olagh moves to one of the drakes and kneels next to it. There is an expression on his face you can't quite tell. He seems to recognize the creatures as he turns one over. He appears displeased and lets go of a sigh. Sowen's eyes keep alert to the skies.

Camille begins to walk among the remains, scanning them and the area.

The sun is roughly between high-sun and twilight. You have a few more hours before it gets dark.

What do you wish to do?

Aila felt a bit frustrated that she could not understand their surprise guides, and she did her best to try to listen as they went along, hoping that she might learn to figure out a few words, perhaps directionals.

At the site, she drew a cloth around her face, hoping to block the worst of the decomposition odors, as she looked about. The figures of sticks surprised her somewhat.

"What kind of magic is this?" she said, looking for Petar or Angus to supply some information, the 'stick men' of the earlier narrative coming to her mind, and she supposed perhaps it was more literal and not skeletons at all.

"Petar, I think we might need to make camp--can you ask if they will stay to camp along with us, and perhaps we can have two watch through the night--one of their number, one of our number?"  As helpful as the orcs had been, Aila rather hoped to take watch with one and perhaps try to learn a few words in the process.

you bid the orc party farewell, but they surprise you by offering to take you to the right spot.

Petar is indeed surprised, and quite unsure how this would be tolerated by the others.  He does his best to vouch for the red orcs, who he feels are worthy of respect if not trust.

"The so-called stick men are abominations to these orcs and they want to fight alongside us to rid the land of them," the elf explains.  Petar is still thinking that these are animated skeletons at that point.

Your progress is slow, but steady.

Doing his best to keep apace despite the heavy load he bears, Petar does find himself lagging behind at times thanks to the rough terrain.  He also was no outdoorsman, and finds the prospect of having to make camp at the end of long day of trekking almost unbearable.  Where are all the inns!?

The chosen orcs nod stoically and move ahead of the group at a run.

"Scouts," Petar translates.  "The orcs wisely believe that a group as large as ours is easy to detect in the wilds."

Whether the elf thought the scouts were actually betraying them and running off to gather a whole orc warband to slay them, he kept to himself.  In truth, the idea did cross Petar's mind from time to time and he kept an eye on the leader.

The orc leader stops, points at the rocks, and speaks.

"Here we are, the scene of the night battle.  Some of the fallen still lie where they fell," Petar says, feeling a little green at the prospect of inspecting the remains.

Three of humanoid shapes are armored in various forms of metal and leather. You can tell by their general size and shape, and also the craftmanship of their equipment, that they were human, elven, and dwarven.

Very tentatively, Petar helps look them over at a distance to try and tell what happened.  Slain by drakes perhaps?

The orc leader says  as he points at the bundled sticks.

"What kind of magic is this?" she said, looking for Petar or Angus to supply some information, the 'stick men' of the earlier narrative coming to her mind, and she supposed perhaps it was more literal and not skeletons at all.

"How odd," Petar says, in agreement that the stick men were not undead after all.  "Golems maybe?  Constructs given motion by magic and able to follow simple orders.  What do you think Angus?"

Camille begins to walk among the remains, scanning them and the area.

Petar quietly asks her if she recognises anyone.

"Petar, I think we might need to make camp--can you ask if they will stay to camp along with us, and perhaps we can have two watch through the night--one of their number, one of our number?"  As helpful as the orcs had been, Aila rather hoped to take watch with one and perhaps try to learn a few words in the process.

"This was a good place to camp," Petar says, emphasising the 'was'.  "There's so much stink of death here, though, it would be dangerous in my mind.  Scavengers would be attracted; I don't know if drakes are carrion eaters but if they are .. well ..."

The elf argues that they camp elsewhere, perhaps a short distance away but away, nonetheless.  Petar also suggests that in the short time they have left before nightfall they can at least raise some cairns over the dead and build a pyre for the drakes and stickmen remnants.

Unless someone wanted to skin the drakes?  Petar isn't sure about the leatherworking details but guesses that drakehide would be valuable to some buyers.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:30, Fri 18 Dec 2020.

"That would be my guess, druids perhaps?"

Oswyn surveys the site. He inspects the armor first, to see if it's worth salvaging or if the battle damage is too great. Then he turns his attention to the stick men. He looks over their construction, and seems to slip into a meditative state for a moment as he does so.

Oswyn's evaluation of the armor tells you that it has taken moderate damage in the last battle. (After all, it's previous owner is presently dead.) The armor is well crafted, battle worthy, and with repairs and a good refitting would be quite serviceable again. It is hard to tell exactly what injury killed the dwarf, but the armor shows distinct teeth, impact dents, and rending and tearing along the extremities. Mostly likely done by the drakes.

To his surprise, turning the body over to face upwards reveals something akin to corrosion on the outer metal and leather layers, with a few spots having been "eaten" open by something so destabilizing it simply melted the material away. Oswyn's first thoughts are 'fire' or 'acid', but there are no scorch marks.

"No. No one here, I can say. So many people pass through Emberdell I don't meet all of them."

She kneels next to the body of the elf. The sunken, decayed face does not detract from the elegant hair, nor the fine headband that used to keep it tied in place. It is clear the elf's principal injury was a massive tear to its left shoulder, where bone and the remains of sinew are visible in the open. With such an injury it would have been almost impossible to be able to use the left arm again in any capacity.

She wordlessly pulls her pack from her shoulders, drops it next to her, kneels, and begins the Chiress prayers for the dead.

She finishes the short ritual by allowing a few drops of Chiress water to wash over the elf's forehead, then proceeds to the human and the dwarf.

Aila smiled at Petar's response, and said, "I did not mean here, precisely, but somewhere reasonably close that would be a suitable spot.  It seems close to time to be picking the spot and getting things arranged, doesn't it?"

"Agreed, and hopefully find out where the survivors went!"

Petar tries his best to look for a path, asking others with a tracker's eye to help if they wished and asking the orcs, too, to recount what they saw when the battle broke.  "?"

Hopefully with that clue, they could look in the right spot, and find some indications of passage.

"Let it be quick before nightfall finds us." As she surveyed the scene she had nothing to aid the others in their search.

Lland guessed these orcs were at least pretending to be compatriots as they hadn't attacked yet, but that didn't mean he would drop his guard or his morning Star. It appeared the red orcs were going to lead the group to the spot of the night battle, which Lland still didn't fully comprehend but he understood what a battle was and that there could still be danger.

He mostly kept to himself as they hiked, Lland wasn't going to give an inch, even if the orcs and he couldn't understand each other. Never show weakness to a stranger, only friends got to see his soft and squishy side.

They got to the battle ground and it did not smell or look pretty, the aura of death still lingered here. Now Lland was all about a good battle, but not burying the dead left a kharmatic stank in the ground. Everyone seemed to be in a rush to move on but Lland's morality had some specific rules and burying a warrior was important to him.  He would find a digging tool and dig one grave to save time, there was no shame in compatriots in arms sharing a grave, was better than foul beasts gnawing on their bones.

"if ye hae tae leave juist let me knoe th' directions. A've git tae bury thae bodies 'n' skin thaim drake's fur some fancy boots"

Angus will help Lland bury the dead as quickly as possible, gathering rocks for a cairn.

Oswyn helps with the burial as well. Once that is taken care of, he will help scout out a good camping spot, if the others haven't found one yet.

Brulna stood watch with a spell prepared. She watched the men dig the graves, but she herself kept thinking of the elf.

Several of the remaining afternoon hours pass as you dig a grave large enough to hold the three bodies. A few of the orcs offer to help, and you finish before the sun dips into twilight, perhaps with another hour to spare. You then set your attention to setting up camp. In the clearing, this is easy. There is plenty of open space, and the rocky promontories provide a small amount of shelter against the wind, as well as a backing onto which to settle lean-tos.

The orcs settle together into their own camp, observing you from a distance. They spend their time cleaning their armor and keeping their weapons sharp. The scouts return with little to report, other than a few drakes seen in the distance to the west.

By the time the camps are finished the skies are settled into night.

You have a chance to check out any possible leads to where the rest of this party might have departed with the information the orcs gave you. According to them, they left generally towards the north-west. It will be easier to search for any possible tracks in the daytime, although after a fortnight and day, it would be hard to do even for experienced tracker.

As you settle into your spots and prepare your food, the night's chill begins to descend around you, making you want to get closer to the fire. The clouds travel lazily on the high breezes, and the stars begin to twinkle playfully at you.

Camille settles onto the ground with her legs crossed, and pulls her blanker tighter around her to stay warm. She starts telling a story of when she and her sister met a faery in these woods.  That was a few summers ago, before the town started having trouble with the orcs. She tells of a small flighty creature, no taller than the span of a hand, looking like a butterfly made of light and yet with the body of a woman. She recalls that the forest was warm during the summer months, and that the breeze was so light you could easily fall asleep on it. They heard its laughter at the edge of town, and felt compelled to follow it. The didn't count how long they were following it until the forest was all around them. That's when they realized they had been walking for hours, although it only felt like a few moments. The closer they got to the woods, the lighter and easier the trek felt, for their spirits were raised by something in the air that resembled joy and good cheer. Soon they could actually hear the laughter and tried to follow it, but they got lost and started to worry. The more they tried to follow the laughter, the further it seemed to get from them. It was then they felt overcome by the desire to sleep. They found a small glen with gentle moss-covered ground, and took to sleeping right there and then. The next morning they awoke in one of the farmer's barns, nestled into the hay. To this day, they never saw another faery again, nor discovered how they made it back safely after having fallen asleep.

"It was such a wonderful night. I remember it so clearly, even now," she finishes, playing with her sister's symbol in her hand. "I'll take first watch. Who'll follow after me?"

---

OOC: Ok, got another post out. Work's been busy. I got set up to do another production, and there's lots of little fires to fight. And with Christmas and soon New Year's here, it will busy along the family line. But I am sure I can get a few posts ready.

"I'll take last watch."

Oswyn steps up. "I can take second watch. I see well in the dark, and once my shift is over, I'll sleep like a log. But you won't catch me snoozing on duty."

"I don't sleep much, so dwarven friend. You remind me of my sister. We had a way of speaking a broken broug. If'n ye understand wha I might be sayin?" The muscular wizard looked at the dwarf with a smile.

"And just one on watch?  I'm quite willing to take a watch in the night," said Aila.

In reply to Aila (msg # 153):

"There should be 2 on watch, just in case."

OOC: Ok... looks like lots of options.

I can't quite tell if you fellas want three watches with one person each, or two watches with two people awake.

Which one is it?
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:16, Wed 23 Dec 2020.

A few of the orcs offer to help

Carefuly to translate promptly so there were no misunderstandings (opportunistic, or otherwise), Petar gratefully accepts the help from the red orcs.  The task of burial was difficult, even if this wasn't a personal loss.  These were still people, who, until very recently, had been going about their business just like they were.  It was sobering to raise cairns over strangers while wondering (perhaps morbidly so), if others would do the same for him.

Petar also wonders if, by spending time with these savages, the locals of Emberdell might become the stronger for it.  Especially since the red orcs seemed as keen to rid the land of evils and drakes as the next fellow.  An alliance was certainly a stretch, but peaceful co-existence and minimum and trading at best?  The elf makes a mental note to bring it up with Garrel and Dormas the next time.

She starts telling a story of when she and her sister met a faery in these woods.

For once Petar doesn't have to entertain and he settles in eagerly.  More stories were also good, even ones about kid's stuff.

To this day, they never saw another faery again, nor discovered how they made it back safely after having fallen asleep.

"Not all fey are so, seelie, I believe is how they say it in the Greenest Realm," Petar says, using a child's name for the legendary woodland kingdom of the Faerie Queen and her traditional court.  "I'm glad they didn't play serious tricks on you or worse!"

There were many tales, of the Green Man and Hoarfrost Jack and the Witch of Air and Darkness.  The city elf, of course, only knows the human side of these tales and believes them all to be merely amusing.  Petar was, though, beginning to suspect that most magical things were all too real, and terrifying.

Regarding the business of night watches, he figures they have a large enough troop for double duty.  "We know there are monsters about, plus we have those orcs there and while I don't exactly trust them, I don't exactly don't trust them, either," Petar admits.

How about humans on watch 1, while there is still some light: Camille and Brulna.
Infravision for watch 2: Petar and Oswyn
Back to humans for the pre-dawn period where its starts getting lighter: Mysh and Aila?

Angus, you want to make sure you get your sleep so you can study?

In reply to Game Master (msg # 155):

OOC:Brulna will stay awake whomever is watching for danger can do so. She will be in her thoughts of her sister.

"I'll take the third, then," offered Aila.

---

Petar's suggestions work for me, in other words.

I can't complain about that either. ;-)

The watches having been assigned, the party settles in around the fire and warmth, and all take a well deserved rest. It had been a long day of a trek, and moving around in all that armor, hauling a decent amount of equipment, was rather tiring. And that doesn't include having to dig graves for several hours.

Camille and Brulna have an uneventful watch. The orcs have their own watches, keeping themselves respectfully away from the rest of the party. They don't make any efforts to keep communications open, as it appears that most of them don't know the western common used by all other races.

The night is cool, outright chilling. It is moderately overcast, allowing for a bit of light to come through from the moon and the stars. The calm breeze would have been pleasant during the daytime, but at night it steals the warmth away from the bones and makes you want to huddle closer to the fire.

The second watch is woken up in due time, and Peter and Oswyn take on the cool night. Not wanting to keep their fellows up, the elf and the dwarf keep conversation to a minimum, and what little they have they manage in whispers. The night appears to transpire quietly.

That is until both Petar and Oswyn spot a 'glow' emerging from among the trees to the southwest. It is an odd light, slightly blue in hue, and indistinct. It doesn't seem to come from any direct light source, and it is barely visible through the trees. But with their eyes attuned to the darkness, both notice it is there.

The light (or whatever is causing it) appears to slowly circle around their position. It seems to move very slowly.

It is at that moment that a heavy crashing through the woods comes from the west-north-west of your camp. Something, more than one thing, approaches quickly between the trees, and if it was not caring how much noise it is making now, it sure was keeping very quiet earlier. It appears to be almost upon you.

OOC: Perception checks for Petar and Oswyn. Either one of you go ahead and roll initiative. =)

OOC: What do we roll for Perception in RC? Wisdom? Sorry, don't have the book handy at work today.

Initiative is standard 1d6 for the group I assume, so I'll roll:

15:02, Today: Oswyn rolled 6 using 1d6.  Initiative.

The second watch is woken up in due time, and Peter and Oswyn take on the cool night. Not wanting to keep their fellows up, the elf and the dwarf keep conversation to a minimum, and what little they have they manage in whispers. The night appears to transpire quietly.

Indeed, Petar is slightly on edge, what with drakes and eagle-boars and so on in this territory.  Oh, and orcs.  He keeps his back to the fire to keep his infravision working properly as he scans the night.

It is at that moment that a heavy crashing through the woods comes from the west-north-west of your camp. Something, more than one thing, approaches quickly between the trees, and if it was not caring how much noise it is making now, it sure was keeping very quiet earlier. It appears to be almost upon you.

As soon as he can, Petar is shaking others awake while shouting for the rest to arise.

"Something comes!"

Perception check = 3.  Did you mean Alertness?  I don't think this ancient version of D&D has Perception :lol

22:02, Today: Petar the Elf rolled 3 using 1d20.  Petar Perception check Things That Go Bump In The Night.

Angus wakes groggily and readies his staff, he has no spells left!

Brulna got up to her knees and unholstered her mace. As she blinked her eyes to see better in the pre dawn night. The muscular mage sits ready for what comes next.

As the light circles the camp, Oswyn watches with interest. When the sounds start up, he goes to wake up Lland first, to get another party member with infravision awake. He doesn't seem to notice something important...

06:57, Today: Oswyn rolled 20 using 1d20.  "Perception" check.

OOC:

Ok, I think I have a map ready. I have used the Mapper program I used for the terrain this time, including importing the token images from the game. I did it because the 'light' effects are better in here, allowing me to create a form of "darkness" that is broken through via the lights. The Mapper program takes care of the shadows and the relative illumination, which is something that I don't think Photoshop can do. The downside is fairly clunky images at the scale at which we are looking at them.

I tried to give Lland a generic dwarf image (dark lines over a white background) but with the pixelation it has become a blurry mess. Everyone else I believe can be recognized by their general token.

Lland, if you pick a token image for your character I can bring it in.

Let me know if I missed anything. I have dispensed with tents and rolls and other such fine details in the interest of getting the map completed.

I will work on further posts tomorrow.

[ Forest Encounter - Round 1 - PCs ]

OOC: Quick Description of the Map Details

So, as you can tell, your are divided into two groups: PCs and Orc NPCs. Each has their own camp. The gray areas with lines at the edges are the rocky outcroppings you are camping next to. At the center they are somewhere between eight to ten feet high, tapering down to just a few feet towards each edge. The ground is solid rock close to the upper edges, leading to soil away from it. There are small rock groups all around, but this is why this area is actually good for camp, as nothing will burn and the area is clear of other vegetation and debris. You have buried the bodies in the small area to the north of your camp.

The orcs are all huddled around their fire, with the leader taking a position against the wall. The watching outlook is actually sitting at the top of the outcropping keeping an high eye on everything around him.

To the south-west is the strange blue light. To the north-west is the crashing noise that is about to break through to your camp.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:28, Thu 07 Jan 2021.

In reply to Game Master (msg # 167):

08:32, Today: Black Angus rolled 6 using 1d6.  initiative.


Very nice Game Master! Very nice map!

OOC: 14:46, Today: Brulna rolled 1 using 1d6 ((1)).

Still seated with her legs crossed Brulna looked on into the  darkness.

The orc sentry starts barking an alert, and the warriors stir from their sleep, groggy but ready in a matter of moments. They only have time to grab their weapons before preparing for battle.

OOC: For those asleep, make an unmodified Wisdom check to wake up. It is loud enough that you'd wake up without prompting. I shall roll for the NPCs.

Petar, Oswyn, are you warning the party?

From between the trees begin to emerge figures, low in height and hunched over. It is hard to tell what they are, other than they are not very tall, but they do have one thing in common: their eyes, if you can call them that, glow red in the dark. You can see them approach to the edge of the light, and as they do, the figures become clearer to see.

(Elves, Dwarves, and Orcs: Because your position is too close to your fire, your night vision is impaired, leaving you limited in what you can see at a distance.)

That is when you realize you are looking at bones, walking bones. The bones of canines, perhaps wolves, and the bones of small humanoids, with flat round heads and pointy teeth, carrying small crude spears and knifes. You recognize these as goblin weapons. Behind them come more such bones, but these are taller, broader, with strong shoulders wearing ill-fitting leather hides you recognize as orc armor.

As their "eyes" meet yours, there is a moment of ... evaluation? Their heads turn up and sideways, as if listening for something. Then their eyes focus back on you, and they charge you.

There are no raging screams, not defiant calls for battle, no feral snarling or howls. There is only the soft crushing of soil and plants beneath their bony feet and paws, with weapons raised and fangs ready, as they close in for an assault.

OOC: Ok, I didn't have time to update the map, but at least you are getting an idea of what is going on here. I'll be needing to get a few new tokens for these new creatures and I'll be working on the images for a bit. In the meanwhile, everyone will have a chance to wake up. Everyone who's sleeping will not have their armor on, but can pick up a shield or weapon as normal. Everyone on watch is armed and armored.

08:34, Today: Black Angus rolled 19 using 1d20.  wisdom check.

I snore.

OOC: Alright. It's been a busy night. I had to help a friend with their kid. He's very young and sometimes she needs help. I don't have any kids of my own, and she's an ex of mine, so it is always a pleasure to help her out. But it does take time. =)

Anywho, I have what I believe is a finished and working version of the map. Updates from now on should work very easily and take little time. We just have to deal with the movement.

For those folks new to the game, we simplify turns by taking actions in the order in which they are posted. Both sides take their actions in turn. The monsters took their surprise round, and it is now Round 2 - PC actions.

This version of the map is 4 times larger than the previous one, but the benefit is that the images are now much sharper/smoother. I will not recommend you view this via your phone too much. It might eat up your data pretty fast.

Let me know how it turned out.

[ Forest Encounter - Round 2 - PCs ]
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:40, Fri 15 Jan 2021.

Great map as usual :)

Being one of the only armoured ones, Petar scurries forward to hold the line, readying sword and shield, bow forgotten.  His training vaguely recommends that arrows are useless against such monstrosities but he really doesn't know, and there is no time to find out.

How did they get so close?!

"Stay behind me!" Petar barks to the others as closes on an undead hound-wolf.

The elf's first attempts are tentative stabs, useless maneuvers that slide off bone or poke right though places where muscle and flesh were supposed to be.  Petar hopes the others have better luck, and the Cleric can turn them to ash like in the stories.

Actions
Move to engage skele-doggies 1&2
Counting squares, that's 7 or 8 of them.  35' to 40'?
Combat movement rate is 20 yards, so should be fine

Attacking doggie1,  miss

07:37, Today: Petar the Elf rolled 3,3 using d20,d8.  Petar sword attack vs skele doggie #1.

Combat section
AC -1, hp 7/7, hands full (sword&shield)
1 spell left today

Angus snores on! Oblivious.

Brulna stands at Petars warning. The muscular warlock begins to move her hands in a fluid motion as a missile materializes. "Where are they...? Don't fail me now." Brulna aims away from the elf and hopes she hits one of the undead.

Aila pulled herself from sleep, the shaking and the yell being enough to pull her out of her rest.  Her eyes scanned until she was able to see and, staff in hand, moved up between Angus' mule and Thing 2.

Unfortunately, it seemed that sleep still kept her concentration from being effective, and the swing of the staff went far wide.

---

20:59, Today: Aila rolled 5 using 1d20+1.  to hit.

Oswyn runs forward with Petar, trying to position himself between the rapidly advancing skeletons and the awakening party members.

He swings his battle axe at one of the canine skeletons. "Wake up, all!," he bellows, "We're under attack! And watch for that blue light to the southwest."

Unfortunately, the dwarf is so intent on his yell, he lets the skeleton easily dodge his powerful blow.

23:31, Today: Oswyn rolled 4,7 using 1d20+2,1d8+2.  battle axe attack/damage.

In reply to Oswyn (msg # 177):

At the yells, Angus startles awake finally, "Undead upon us! Where are the priests to turn them?!"

Round 2 - PCs

"Something comes!"

Petar's warning is loud and clear in the night, adding to the orc cries for alert.

Accustomed to the need to arise while at sleep, the orcs rouse themselves from their beds with alacrity. Their movement is a bit slow at first, but they gather their wits with enough speed. With their spears and knives next to them they join the fray as soon as they are armed.

The leader calls out to his warriors,

[Language unknown: "At foomti! Stiwillateau! Eipa loout thion! Anie p ro eimoai!"]

Petar, being closer, is the first into the fray. Drawing his sword, and knowing that his metal plate might very well mean the difference between seeing the next morning's sunrise or the cold goodbye of his companions, rushes forward to attempt to draw attention to himself and divert the rush of incoming enemies.

His training had taught him to strike at flesh and sinew, but there was nothing here like that. The blade passed too easily between the forsaken ribs, and the blows piercing the scant armor had nothing to cut into but empty space. He would have to redirect his attacks into just clubbing these creatures to pieces with the weight of the blade.

Angus, dreaming of pretty farm girls with big muscles, is harshly awakened by Petar's warning.

"Undead upon us! Where are the priests to turn them?!"

Brulna, coming to her knees with speed, falls back on her mystic training - a glowing arcane force of energy shaped into an arrow appears next to her. Who will she direct it to?

Aila, always a little bit on alert, rises to her feet in one smooth practiced motion, much like the day-long training she had received in being alert at all times from her old master. It was practically intuitive for her at this point. Not wasting any time, she grabs her staff and rushes to the side of the mule, which struggles to get away from the reins holding her in place. The animal is clearly frightened. Staff firstly grasped in her two hands, she swings with all her strength, but the 'thing' before her is small and wiry, with remarkable reflexes for being nothing but bones. The staff goes wide.

But fear is what often lends fire to the actions of living creatures. The mule turns to defend itself, even as it is tied down. It finds its way around Aila and strikes out with a hefty kick. In the dark and the shuffle the hoof fails to find its mark.

Oswyn runs forward with Petar, trying to position himself between the rapidly advancing skeletons and the awakening party members.

He swings his battle axe at one of the canine skeletons, but misses. "Wake up, all!," he bellows, "We're under attack! And watch for that blue light to the southwest."

Mysh rises quickly grabs his shield and sword, and faces the oncoming horde of walking bones.

Olagh stirs awake in a crazed manner, his eyes wild and his long blonde hair crazily about him. He grabs his spear and gets up, trying to get an bead on the situation.

"Sowen! Get up! GET UP!"

Sowen rises like his brother, swiftly, but with more self-discipline. He grabs his sword and shield, and prepares to face the attackers in the camp.

Camile, answering the many calls of warning, rises to her feet and understands immediately the need for divine assistance. Holding her symbol of Chiress, she calls out:

"By the power of Chiress, YOU ARE BANISHED!"

A piercing bright wave of light erupts from her hands and symbol, filling the night with the energies of the Goddess. The light is filled with warmth and serenity, making you stop for a moment, despite the danger all around you. As the light reaches the bones, they crack and char, bringing them to an immediate stop. The first seven before you turn and flee out towards the trees. The others hesitate for an instant, but then resume their inexorable advance.

The orcs stare in amazement at Camille, turning to their chief with silent questions.

[Language unknown: "Ourectore! Kor t i illcomprende i m stringeau com. Rom m thetedanylin. Loeste os reaal on"], he bolsters them.

Lland, still a bit groggy from sleep, gets up and grabs his morning star and shield, setting his feet in a wide stance, ready to face the enemy.

[ Forest Encounter - Round 2 - PCs - B ]

---

OOC:

Ok! Mostly misses this round. =)

If you are in combat range of a turned skeleton, you can strike once as it turns to run away. I will update the map again as soon as you resolve the withdrawal attacks and Brulna selects her target and rolls her Magic Missile damage.

Camille is second level as a Cleric, so she turns skeletons automatically. Very nice. The extra light on the map coming from her at this moment is her divine power manifest. If you pay close attention to the monster numbers, the ones who are affected by the turning have a small 'T' next to their number.


New House Rules

So, standing up is not exactly detailed in much degree other than mentioning it should be considered an "action". So, I am going to make it like this: if your character needs to stand up for any reason, s/he will only have 1/2 their movement distance available.

Grabbing a weapon is considered easy enough that it does not affect a character's actions in a round. I am going to say that grabbing and readying a shield AND a weapon will affect a character, like a 'standing' action, leaving only half the distance left.

Therefore, standing + grabbing weapon + grabbing shield = full round action.

I am adding these two rules to the "House Rules" section.


Clarifying other rules for future use in combat situations:

- If you use the standard encounter speed (I.E.: 20 in a 20/60 speed) you can move it and still attack.
- If you go faster than standard combat speed, up to full speed (I.E.: 60 of 20/60) you cannot attack. You only move.
- If you "charge" (move at least 20 feet/yards in a round in a straight line at an enemy) you may attack and do double damage.
[The "charge" maneuver is talked about everywhere, but not defined in the character combat maneuvers. I find that odd.]

Let's work with these from now on.


Other notes: It looks like LLand's player hasn't logged in since Jan 4. That's a pretty long time for a PbP game. I hope everything is going well with him. I will have to NPC him until he returns.

Can anyone tell me if the "Last Game Login" stat in the Cast page is for logging into the site, or specifically loading a page in a given game thread?
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:21, Tue 19 Jan 2021.

As soon as Camille's holy magic affects the canine skeletons and the one in front of Oswyn turns to flee, he brings his axe down hard on the creature, connecting this time.

15:12, Today: Oswyn rolled 22,10 using 1d20+2,1d8+2.  parting shot attack/damage.

Nat 20 and max damage. It don't get any better than this!

Like the dwarf nex to him, Petar saw the divine might force the maluses away, like raindrops fleeing off oil-soaked leather.  He slashed wildly at a Turned one, before advancing.

"Bring some light!" Petar hollers at the ones behind.


Actions
Withdrawal attack on skeledog 1 or 2, whichever Oswyn didn't hit

Nat 20 hits: looks like 1+2 = 3 total damage
23:05, Today: Petar the Elf rolled 20,1 using d20,d8.  withdrawal attack w/sword vs dog1 or 2.

Question
How much light does the fire emit?

This message was last edited by the player at 07:09, Tue 19 Jan 2021.

Sleep seemed to still be slowing her, as Aila swung the staff at the parting skeleton (#2) with a big whiff.

---

Forgot the modifier when rolling, but doesn't matter .. rolled 4, 4+1 isn't that much better.

Angus grabs a fire brand to light the night and char some bone as he can use it as a club.

Brulna made a fist and made a gesture at the skeleton retreating. Somatically garbled words manifested before a arrow coalesced above her fist.

ooc: 16:36, Today: Brulna rolled 5 using 1d6.  magic missile damage.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:37, Tue 19 Jan 2021.

Pick one of the three types of skeletons: the small ones, the large ones, or the canine ones. From there, pick the skeleton by the token number. This way I will know exactly which one you are aiming for.

In reply to Game Master (msg # 185):

#2 Canine skeleton

Round 2 - PCs - End

As the bones turn and flee, Petar, Oswyn, and Aila take the chance offered to them: they strike blows at their back.

Oswyn's axe meets the rear of the skeleton squarely, from lower back to legs, tearing all the bones apart in between. The creature collapses before him, dragging itself on its forepaws for a few more feet before falling apart.

Petar's reflexes keep up, and his sword manages to jar several of the bones in the skeleton before him, but not enough to keep it from getting away. Or so he thinks. The next instant, a glowing bolt of arcane energy slams into the back of the bones, shattering them to pieces and scattering them amid sparks of moxous flame. A few bits of the moxous embers touch the back of his hand, singing his skin ever so lightly.

Aila's luck had yet to favor her in this fight. Her second attempt at breaking the bones before her met again with a miss. But it didn't matter now - Owyn had taken care of the thing.

[ Forest Encounter - Round 2 - PCs - End ]

OOC: Turning attacks are complete now. I have updated the map for the result of the end of your round. I will work on this more tomorrow to craft the beginning of round 3.

On the question on the light: torches illuminate 30' around them, and last for an hour, give or take. Angus' token now has a torch token on it.

Round 3 - Monsters

Unconcerned about their fellows running away from Chiress' divine influence, the rest of the walking bones forge onward towards their targets. Keeping up their speed, the bones cover the distance, their hard flesh-less feet crunching over the broken terrain making practically no noise other than the 'click clack' of their shapes.

The closest ones approach swiftly and attack with the weapons in their hands. Their fury is aimed at the front line of defenders trying to stem the tide of the assault. The ones further behind approach at a run, joining with their brethren and ready to strike in a moment.

Petar finds himself accosted by two smaller goblin skeletons, knives and swords in hand. Their attacks naturally aim low, since their height limit their reach, so the fight is a bit unbalanced for him, finding that he needs to cover his knees and shins predominantly. The blades coming at him lack strength and follow-through. They are easily cast aside with his shield and fail to find any openings in his plate mail.

18:56, Today: Game Master rolled 12,2,6,3 using 1d20,1d4,1d20,1d4 ((12,2,6,3)).


Oswyn, axe at the ready, stands at attention and prepared to face the one enemy before him. The small bones strike greedily at the dwarf, almost as if its safety meant nothing to it. The aggressive lunge, while impressive, does not make it past his defenses, but it came close. The blade draws a few sparks off the metal and is deflected away.

18:59, Today: Game Master rolled 17,3 using 1d20,1d4 ((17,3)). Missed by one.


Aila, still trying to keep Bessy safe, stands her ground against a single set of goblin bones. A pair of knives greet her in the dim light of the campfire, carving the air before her. Unable to completely leave her position, lest the skeletons come too close to the mule, Aila refuses to give ground but this leaves her vulnerable. The small knife threatens to carve a large bloody swath on her lower midsection, but, bending like a reed in the wind, she is able to avoid the greater heft of the attack. A small cut to her waist is all that is left of what could have been a grievous wound.

19:07, Today: Game Master rolled 18,1 using 1d20,1d4. Attack on Aila.


The larger skeletons now join the fray, coming into the fight with Aila, Sowen and Petar.

[ Forest Encounter - Round 3 - Monsters ]


OOC: That's it for the monsters in Round 3. Your turn for this round.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:21, Sat 23 Jan 2021.

Oswyn winces as the goblin skeleton almost gets its blade into a chink in his armor. He uses the haft of his axe to blast the skeleton's blade out of the way, then quickly but powerfully raises and lowers his axe, as if chopping wood. "Bah, goblins are pests alive, and pests dead as well! But you'll not slay me this day!"

16:09, Today: Oswyn rolled 14,9 using 1d20+2,1d8+2.  attack/damage on skelly 5.
(I'm guessing that's a hit but not sure, so I'll leave the result out for now.)

Angus rises and levels and swings his staff!

08:24, Today: Black Angus rolled 7 using 1d20.  to hit. Misses!

The next instant, a glowing bolt of arcane energy slams into the back of the bones, shattering them to pieces and scattering them amid sparks of moxous flame. A few bits of the moxous embers touch the back of his hand, singing his skin ever so lightly.

"Well done!" he calls back to the warcaster.  Petar knows such spells are powerful and draining and wonders how many more Brulna will be able to muster before risking permanent damage to her health.

As some undead are Turned, some are destroyed, and even more join the battle the elf wonders for a moment what mastermind was behind this.  Petar's worries scatter as he hears the sounds of the red orcs coming to help.

Facing a bigger monster now, he forgets about slicing and instead tries a hewing swing, his goal to separate the lower from the upper right at the spine.  Maybe that did something but Petar isn't sure about how well a blade was working against these walking bones.


Actions
Not moving, attack Orc skeleton 3.  Adding STR bonuses, that's 16 to hit for 3 damage

08:04, Today: Petar the Elf rolled 14,1 using d20,d8.  R3 Petar with sword vs Orc Skeleton 3.

Aila hissed with the pain, but this was not something that she could let distract her now.  She tried, and failed, to clear her mind for her own attack.

---

15:08, Today: Aila rolled 4 using 1d20+1.  attack round 3.

Can't hit the broadside of the barn, but it feels awfully consistent.  Clearly Aila slacked on her combat training in the monastery.

Yes, it is kind of funny, but Aila does roll fours quite often. =)

Brulna will take a few steps closer to the flame. She looked on apprehensively before once again calling upon her magic missile. Probably for the last time.

OOC: 01:00, Today: Brulna rolled 2 using 1d6 ((2)).

OOC: Brulna, as a 1st level wizard, you only get to cast one spell, which you just did with that Magic Missile. At this point, you'll either have to abstain from battle, or use other weapons to contribute.

OOC: Angus, where are you moving? That way I can put you on the map in the right place and understand who you are targetting.

Round 3 - PCs

The orcs, having regained their collective composure, now rush the skeletons in your midst with deliberate fury. Their spears strike at the bones with wild abandon, propelled by something you don't quite understand. There is a feral quality in the way these orcs fight, not like human training, which demands guard and defense so you can preserve your own life and avoid injury.

They give themselves fully to the encounter in a dance of slashes and parries that resembles a swirl of turns and swings, a veritable symphony of spins and strikes, ripostes, retreats, and counter-attacks. At first glance it appears undisciplined or unsophisticated, specially since their attention wavers from their enemies for almost half the time, but as you watch the battle unfold, you understand there is a method to the style. The constant movement makes them hard to pin down and target, and their constant turns keep changing the distance to their target, forcing them to stay off balance trying to chase them to find an opening or having to stay in the same spot but leaving themselves ranged by the spears they bear.

You've never seen anyone fight like this before. They are fierce warriors.

Two orc warriors join the fray against a single skeleton brethren, striking with finesse despite wielding spears. One swing misses, but another manages to strike and almost unbalance the walking bones. The blow does only moderate damage. [Miss, Hit! 2 Damage]

Down the line, the other two orcs don't fare any better. One strike fails to hit, and other, despite being a decent hit, merely glances off the stout nature of the bony hardness that makes up these skeletons. [Miss, Miss]

Oswyn's trusty axe is certainly earning its keep today, with another swing and a resounding crash of bones scattered in all directions. [Hit! 9 Damage]
[Yes, it's a hit. These are unsophisticated bones with poor armor.]

Petar finds that he is warming up nicely, and swings and strikes another skeleton. The blow crushes part of the ribcage and knocks an arm down from the frame. Teetering and off-balance, a blow like that would dropped any living creature, but this thing... well... it's not alive. It continues to advance despite the grievous damage. [Hit! 3 Damage]

Continuing to protect the mule, which is struggling anxiously to break free from the stake tying here down to her spot, Aila swings and misses one more time. Even if she can't hit them, she's keeping them at bay and holding the line. [Miss]

Brulna approaches the flame while she considers her course of action.

Sowen, shield and sword in hand, wastes no time. He takes a defensive stance and strikes out with a series of short cutting swings. He doesn't have much space to swing in, but he coordinates his attacks with his brother's spear and orcs around him. The strikes, however, fail to meet their mark, but give the warrior a better idea on how to face his opponent. [Miss]

Olagh, spear in hand, wields the haft with careful attention. He strikes with a massive lunge, hoping to hit something solid. However, his inexperience with skeletons shows this evening, as the spear simply passes through the ribs without any effect whatsoever. [Miss]

Mysh approaches the line, weapons in hand, but can't find an opening into which to fit. He waits for the battle to shift and keeps his attention on possible attacks.

Lland, seeing the battle line filling up, runs around the back of the orcs and finds a position on their flank. There he prepares to join the fight in earnest by raising his shield and weapon into an aggressive stance.

Camille, seeing how effective the blessings of Chiress were, calls on the divine voice of her Godess again.

"In the name of Chiress, BEGONE!"

And once again, the divine presence of Chiress fills the space, lifting the spirits of everyone one in range and blazing light into the darkness. The remaining skeletons are caught in the light, their frames charring and smoking. They turn mindlessly and try to push past the melee and away from you.

[ Forest Encounter - Round 3 - PCs ]

---

OOC: Again, the skeleton's turned are designed with an additional "T" in their numbering. Camille managed to turn 5 more, routing all remaining skeletons. As before, you get an attack while they turn and run.

At first glance it appears undisciplined or unsophisticated, specially since their attention wavers from their enemies for almost half the time, but as you watch the battle unfold, you understand there is a method to the style.

Glad these red orcs were on their side, Petar hopes they will remain that way as he watches them battle!

And once again, the divine presence of Chiress fills the space, lifting the spirits of everyone one in range and blazing light into the darkness. The remaining skeletons are caught in the light, their frames charring and smoking. They turn mindlessly and try to push past the melee and away from you.

There was no need to stay their attacks, these were horrid things that needed to be destroyed.  Petar slices at the same one, trying to drop it down for good.  As his blade catches on the edge of a femur and slides harmless down the elf curses and fights a strong urge to charge after.

7 to hit, plus 2 for STR plus 2 for withdrawal = 11?  miss most likely

21:39, Today: Petar the Elf rolled 7,1 using d20,d8.  withdrawal attack on Orc Skelly 3.

The elders of Oswyn's adoptive clan were usually of the opinion that when enemies wanted to disengage, you let them go. But they did make exceptions in the case of goblins. And while these skeletons were not technically goblins any more, Oswyn took full advantage of the one in front of him turning to flee due to Camille's holy command.

His axe swung wide this time, in a horizontal arc, and connected solidly with goblin bones.

15:08, Today: Oswyn rolled 20,6 using 1d20+2,1d8+2.  parting shot attack/damage on skelly 2.

Perhaps it was the blessing of Chiress changing the scene, but Aila gathered herself for one more swing at a retreating skeleton to make sure it stayed gone.  "Uukhai!" she cried out, as this time the staff met the bones with bone-shattering effect.

---

05:37, Today: Aila rolled 16 using 1d20+1.  to hit
05:37, Today: Aila rolled 6 using 1d6.

#4 skeleton
This message was last edited by the player at 13:42, Tue 26 Jan 2021.

In reply to Game Master (msg # 196):

the closest open enemy, sorry I didn't see the post sooner.

Brulna walked around the fire and looked on at the onslaught. As the skeletons withdrew from the power of the priests magic. The muscular mage made her way to the back of the others.

As the bones followed the divine compulsion and fled, the front line took advantage of the chaos and struck at their backs.

Petar's attention was caught momentarily observing the battle style of their new 'allies', and his sword missed by a small fraction. [Miss]

Oswyn, focused on the skeleton's and his ancestral grudge against them, struck another one as it turned to run. While it not was fully out of the fight, it would have a hard time doing anything with a shattered hip. [Hit. 2 Damage]

Aila's determination never wavered, even as her swing frequently missed. In this last strike, she hit the turning skeleton straight in the spine, effectively cutting it in half by breaking its core. Her battle cry echoed and mingled with the orc calls. [Hit. 6 Damage]

---

OOC: Assuming no one is chasing after the remaining ones, this fight is over.

I have to admit I completely underestimated the ability of a cleric in this game to turn skeletons. I would have brought more. =)

"!" Petar calls in orcish, his exhortations made plain by pointing his sword in the direction of the fleeing monsters and egging the red orcs on to hopefully end the menace.

He himself does not pay the Turned undead any more attention, instead swinging around and noting if any of his friends had taken a wound.  Was that Aila nursing a cut?  It was hard to tell, the capable woman showed no pain or similar.

Then there was the blue glow, perhaps that was the necromancer that created these things?!

The elf moves off in that direction, cautiously, only a few dozen yards all told, but scanning for the glow.

"There was something here, I saw it before the attack .. blue light.  Oswyn, did you as well??"

Moving maybe 35-40 feet south .. for ease of reference, you can put my character in the same square the Orc Leader was in on the last battle map :)

I have to admit I completely underestimated the ability of a cleric in this game to turn skeletons. I would have brought more. =)

Queue the D&D arms race!  "Ooops, I guess 12 wights was 12 too many .. but hey, those skeletons sure were wimps!"  :P
This message was last edited by the player at 02:28, Mon 01 Feb 2021.

As the turned undead left to return to whatever foulness had given rise to such abominations, the pain from her injury demanded attention as the immediacy of the threat faded.  There was a dampness, the dark stain of blood, marring the lower portion of her tunic.  Knowing how much worse it could have been, she moved to her pack to get the bottle of blessed water and take a good, solid drink.

Oswyn watches the skeletons flee. Then, hearing Petar, he realizes he had warned everyone about the light at the start of the fight, but the danger and excitement had made it slip from his mind.

He turns to the south-west, hoping to spot it again. "I did see the light, Petar, and I have no idea what it might be."

The orcs cheer loudly, lifting their spears above their heads in celebration amind raucus battlecries. Sowen and Olagh join them with wild laughter.

"Next time where won't be anything left of you!"

Petar's exhortations are heard by the leader, who calls two of his veterans to him. After a few curt orders, the two orcs gather their equipment, armor and weapons, and depart in the direction the skeleton's fled. The rest of the orcs regroup at their camp fire, but that is short lived as soon as they notice the blue light south of your position.

Aila, drinking of the bottle of blessed water, finds that her body and mind are quickly invigorated, and the cut on her side knits itself closed, leaving barely a mark where the flesh had been split before. Her robes, though, would need conventional mending.

Camille had started to check on everyone's health, but stopped as she heard the two lookouts exchanging observations about something to the south.

Mysh, weapons in hand, scowls. "Great! Another one? Let's kill it quickly and get back to sleeping."

Petar's and Oswyn's attentions, following the suspicion of perhaps another intruder, are quickly rewarded: the source of the light is a small blue orb, indistinct and translucent, floating about five to six feet off the ground. It emerges from among the trees and approaches gently, as if meeting you.

The orcs stand and approach, weapons at the ready, but have yet to take any action. They are watching Oswyn and Petar approach the light with caution attention.

The night appears to cool swiftly as the light comes closer. There is an unsettling feeling coming about you, as if though all the silent voices around you have now come to be entirely quiet. A light breeze bends the grasses around you.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:07, Mon 01 Feb 2021.

Brulna looked on with apprehension at the sight of the blue orb. The young mage knows she doesn't have many more spells left to her for the day.

Wonder if the elf can ask these orcs if they know of any evil wizards? Or priests.... someone had to raise the dead from there eternal slumber.

Brulna made ready to grasp her weapon if need be.

Petar's and Oswyn's attentions, following the suspicion of perhaps another intruder, are quickly rewarded: the source of the light is a small blue orb, indistinct and translucent, floating about five to six feet off the ground. It emerges from among the trees and approaches gently, as if meeting you.

Because talking to a floating ball of light might be construed as odd, Petar instead uses a minor trick to probe the thing.  ~ I mean you no harm ~, he thinks in the direction of the phenomenon .. just in case it was telepathic or empathic.

"Be ready for anything," he says to the others.  Petar also repeats it in orcish, hoping the red orcs would not do anything, well, orcish ... at least not right away.

A small stone lifts off the ground, and gently guided by Petar's magic, floats towards the orb ....

Actions

Cast Wizard Hand and use it to pick up a small stone and then move the stone towards the orb and finally, into the orb.  Not an attack, just a poke.

First charm used today, 8 left

The World of Karanos, post#9:

Wizard's Hand

Level: 0
Range: 40'
Duration: 1 turn/level
Effect: Object no more than 5 lbs. in weight

This effect gives the caster the ability to move small objects with the power of his will. Nothing heavier than five pounds can be moved, nor anything larger than 2'x2'x2'.
The wizard can keep INT total number of objects under his command, but can only keep [INT bonus + 1] objects in motion as long as he's paying attention to them. If the wizard ceases to pay attention to an object in motion, it remains where it is left until the wizard resumes paying attention to it. If the duration expires any objects held in midair are released and will fall.
This spell was created to help a wizard handle dangerous research with volatile reagents at a safe distance in their laboratory. But it has found many other clever uses by enterprising wizards with larcenous intent.

This message was last edited by the player at 23:50, Mon 01 Feb 2021.

Petar's magic lifts the small stone before the blue light, trying to elicit a reaction from it. The stone flies into the light, straight past it, and lands without any further fanfare on the ground beyond.

A casual chuckle echoes through the area, but not in the physical space. It is a voice in everyone's mind. It seems ... familiar.

The blue light wavers and then changes shape. Before you now stands the ghostly shape of an elder orc, dressed in heavy regalia, strong and certain, approaching you on foot with a casual martial economy of movement.

For those who were present in the barrow grave, you recognize the figure of Gharakuh The Unyielding, a knowing smirk on his lips.

"Ha ha ha ha... We meet again."

The orcs visibly tense, murmurs shift through their ranks. The chief calls out,

[Language unknown: "Wilur to eau anyur om? Pelat rat Oervirlar, str ou entnc nde butntible?"]

The blue light wavers and then changes shape.

Face to face with the spook, Petar feels slightly less awed than before in the cold, claustrophobic barrow.

Slightly.

He lets the spirit address the orcs; but will entertain introductions, as necessary.  Bards did that sort of thing.  The elf also explains to the others who were not with them the other day, Petar talking to Lland, Mysh and Oswyn and Brulna:

"May I introduce Gharakuh the Unyielding, one who lived and ruled here years ago."

Petar recalls what they had learned of the ancestral orc general-king:



Of course, Petar can't explain all this to the newcomers just this moment.  Instead, he asks the spirit:

"Gharakuh, we just battled undead minions .. do you know their source?"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:04, Thu 04 Feb 2021.

Brulna looked at the undead creature wondered if it was a lich? "Me haps Angus would like to ask of spells. I meant rather to say that I and Anug wondered if the unyielding one had any knowledge of cache of spellbooks?"

Refreshed by the blessed water, Aila decided that she would attend to the clothing issue later, but now she was much more interested in what the return of the spirit from the barrow had to do with the situation that had just ended.

"This is unexpected," Aila said.  "I suppose we ought to have asked about Exidamarall before."

The blue shade approached slower now, listening to the questions and comments.

"Gharakuh, we just battled undead minions .. do you know their source?"

"Me haps Angus would like to ask of spells. I meant rather to say that I and Anug wondered if the unyielding one had any knowledge of cache of spellbooks?"

"This is unexpected. I suppose we ought to have asked about Exidamarall before."

Gharakuh's stare was impassive, merely responding to each question with enough attention to acknowledge the speaker, although it lingered with Aila for just a moment longer. But then returned to the face the orcs.

He stepped past Petar and Oswyn, and into the middle of the group. There he addressed the leader of the orc warband. The words you hear in your ears are clearly orcish, although there is a quality about them that is 'off' from what you feel you've heard before.

But the words you hear in your mind are clearly [western common/forest elven/rock dwarven]. The meaning is clear as he speaks.

"I was known as Gharakuh The Unyielding. My life ended centuries ago, in a war brought about by greed and hate, by men who only wanted to satisfy their own ambitions, all others be damned. I was Chief of Chiefs, War Chief, Arbiter, and Speaker. I was charged with guarding the offspring, and safekeeping the old. I did well for years, for my time, with the warriors I had, but in the end, I was caught, ambushed, unprepared, and lost. So here I am, never having fulfilled my oath. An oath I cannot now ever keep.

Are you the chief warrior here?"

The orc leader paused, speechless and in awe, before this apparition. Finally, he recovered and gathered himself. Planting the haft of his spear firmly on the ground, he stood stoically upright, facing the being before him.

[Language unknown: "Al ai ngeeno o et isal. N a focklo Ndatho. N the o omtin ha nteble-antiou ol ol ncwe. Us seriivnd not nd thalesund, nteomeman trme thoerasom e ntebutear thi pa isarfi ughos tioventra. To ofta eleich essandtra e teare, Sioleein loich Ngeihaurta, ieck Om ririilth ter bleresera momeek et staainich. Et earmantiowheill esresi os ainverder thopr was, ortlinourive to theateted losemi, utmewa onbeus tra werredear, hasarethu iton ompr pondto ou romro dayoulnce son stinfi ioinis. Asna nelaon vir sonkorart tinsa sana inewerous illion'ortnotove.

Ni ceder sevor miwhi com? Rut lar hewh alleli iv tinnc ereof? U llth foint pehat itpahepr k ilhaof?"]

Gharakuh turned to Petar, then to Aila.

"I am here because I was awakened."

His attention wandered around those present, meeting the eyes of the original group that stepped into his grave. His expression was one of evaluation, measuring the qualities of each soul present here with him. It was hard to tell what he was expecting, or thinking for that matter.

"I am here now because ... I need to find ... "

The shade hesitated. It seemed it was struggling to find words. Or perhaps remembrances.

It walked further onwards, towards the second fire, the party's camp. Mysh and Lland both tensed at his approach, raising their weapons and shields. But he passed by them. Olagh stood rooted to his spot. You could not tell if he was scared to death or utterly captivated by this visitor.

"I see you still travel with these two? Have you not learned anything yet?"

Sowen turned to meet Olagh's eyes. Olagh only shook his head. They both stepped back from the shade.

"What do you want? You have no power here. This group is under my protection, and the protection of Chiress."

Camille's voice broke through the night with a stern warning. She had brought up her mace and was holding her shield defensively before her.

Gharakuh paused for a moment as he examined the shattered remains of the skeletons who had just a few moments ago accosted the party. He looked in Camille's direction, but his gaze seemed to almost pass through her, as though he could barely perceive her at all.

Then he returned his attention to the broken bones before him. Then, without warning, he rushed ahead to the spot of the greater conflict, passing everyone around him, and picked a skull off the ground. He held it high before him, turning it around with his hands.

"After all this time..."

He turned around without hesitation, and strode back to the party's campfire. There he gestured everyone to him.

"See this mark? This is the sign of the necromancers. This... is the sigil of Exidamarall."

He turned the skull around for everyone to see.


This message was last edited by the GM at 01:26, Mon 08 Feb 2021.

The shade hesitated. It seemed it was struggling to find words. Or perhaps remembrances.

It walked further onwards, towards the second fire, the party's camp.

Why the specter had appeared now and what it intended were questions on Petar's mind, but the elf kept quiet as he followed Gharakuh back to the camp.

Indeed, Petar was tense; for Camille was devout and there was every possibility she would strike at the undead thing.


There he gestured everyone to him.

"See this mark? This is the sign of the necromancers. This... is the sigil of Exidamarall."

He turned the skull around for everyone to see.



"We seek them, Gharakuh, to end their evil ways and the threat they pose.  What do you know of them?" Petar asks the ghost.

Aila suppressed a shudder.  How close were they to necromancy, speaking to a ghost for advice.  Still, something lost after much time might be known, and it will help us find these foes we must defeat, she thought.  She looked toward the orcs, wishing that she knew enough of their tongue to understand what was being said, though she could tell that there was some sort of link between the red-skinned orcs and the spirit of the long-dead orc.  Perhaps that is why the green skinned orcs did not visit to pay homage, as perhaps they should have done, that this one was from the red-skinned type.

"Who did the awakening?" she said, her curiosity bubbling out in another question.

Angus listened intently, he had a great interest in Necromancy, in defeating it.

Oswyn is curious about the ghost. It's his first time encountering one, and he listens and watches. The symbol of Exidamarall is interesting. He tries to commit it to memory, as it seems important. But mostly, he's content to watch and learn what he can from what the spirit has to say.

"We seek them, Gharakuh, to end their evil ways and the threat they pose.  What do you know of them?" Petar asks the ghost. Camille approached, still wary of the being amidst them, but more interested now that it seems to show it knows something.

The shade turns to Brulna and declares,

"No, I have no spells for you. In my life, I was a warrior. You seek the mages."

Before he could say anything else, Aila interjected. "Who did the awakening?"

Gharakuh turned to face her and smiled.

"You, of course." He turns his eyes to Petar. Your visit broke my slumber. After you left, I had many questions and could not return to my rest. I had to discover why you left so fast, and what drove you to descend and leave with so much haste. Now I know."

The orc leader added a question.

[Language unknown: "Limo ul ineie pe si? Nemo'naec? Adalil? Trame houeststi io oveearwas? Lesma eeal he rompe?"]

"No, I have no desire for revenge. I seek to fulfill my oath. I was not able to keep my people safe, but perhaps you can help me now."

The shade walks to the orc campfire, and sits down next to the meagre fire, beckoning everyone to sit with him. The orcs approach with hesitation, but they take positions around him in a circle. It looks as though they are doing this with respect and a measure of reverence. The orc leader only nods when he catches the questioning glances of his warriors.

Lland and Mysh keep their distance, but their more relaxed demeanor, and their lowered weapons, shows their interest. Sowen and Olagh get a bit closer, but their guard does not lower.

"During the days of the Great War I was War Chief. I had many braves in my band, and they were all good souls. The humans came and brought their cities, their warriors, and their magics with them. They were strong and cunning, but we had numbers and courage. We warred for four seasons. They were cold, bloody years, and I lost many good friends and warriors. But the humans were not the only thing that kept my braves awake. During the third year my scouts began to return with reports of the dead coming back to life. The rumors told of beasts coming to life in the graves, digging their way out of the soil with their own hands and eating those who were unlucky enough to find them. I sent many eyes to watch and learn, and to come back with what they saw. We didn't know what or why the dead were coming to life. Our scouts came back with alarming news: the dead were growing. The more died by their hand, the more dead came to life. Their numbers swelled, and we were now the prey.

It was soon after that we learned that even the humans fell before these creatures. My scouts returned with a tale of a village at the edge of human lands. They were tracking the dead, as they moved every night. One thing they could not do was listen well, and my scouts were as silent as the shadows. The dead entered the village and killed everyone. Those who ran away were hunted and driven to the ground. That night we learned we had a common enemy.

I sent a warband to speak with the humans, to reach a truce during these dark days, but none would listen. My warriors were threatened and many did not return. I steeled myself for the task of having to fight on my own. But a small band of hunters came to seek my council. They were few in number, merely five, humans, elves, dwarves. They approached under a flag of parley, and wanted to learn more about the dead that came to roam the lands. At first, I was wary, for we had suffered much treachery during those days, but their words lent me courage. They had heard of these dead before, and they had with them some who could fight them with 'holy light', like that one." He pointed at Camille. "Their words were full of bravery and courage. They were willing to fight along side us for the good of all. They called themselves Sentinels." He turns to look at Petar. "After seeing you and yours I thought they had sent more envoys, but you showed no sign of knowing me, and left.

I learned that these beasts can sometimes come to be in fields of battle. Anywhere death and fear had visited, the beasts could be born. But that was not assured. Sometimes, there would be others who would call them. They would use them for their own ends, ends that are best not spoken off, for their goals would be steeped in blood and foul deeds done for their bleak gods.

With their guidance I sent scouts to find the source. Of the eight bands I sent, only one returned. They had tracked the beast's movements back to a temple at the base of the mountains. There they found human fellows, priests, who had partaken with their gods to bring more of the beasts to life. They returned swiftly with news of their discovery. Now we had a way to stop them. I picked my best warriors, and joined with the band of Sentinels. We travelled many days to the mountains, and fought many more beasts along the way. We soon stood at the doors of the temple, ready to stop the bloody incursions of deathless beasts into our lands. Their leader, a human of great voice, blasted with dark spirits us as we stormed their halls and killed his followers. He sent more beasts to best us, but we prevailed against his warriors. Some of us were lost in the fight, but we had not come this far to fall back at the slightest setback. When we finally reached the heart of the temple, we broke him and crushed his follower's will. Their courage abandoned them, and they were struck down as they tried to flee. Exidamarall, their leader, cursed us as his life blood poured onto the stones, and promised my death at the hands of the Spirits of Vengeance. I remember only laughing at him, believing full well that the dead did not come back for vengeance. Little did I know then. With the task completed, the Sentinels departed, and I never learned more of them.

And now, I see my task was not finished."

He looked at the skull before him, turning it around in his hand.

"This is the sigil of Exidamarall. With his power the dead come to life. This can only be his work. We must stop him or there will only be more death."

---

OOC: Ok, finally got that post out. Took a while.

Skill Check: History, for those who have it, at -8 to see if you know anything about the Sentinels.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:34, Sat 13 Feb 2021.

08:09, Today: Black Angus rolled 87 using 1d100-6.

08:08, Today: Black Angus rolled -4 using 1d20-6.  knowledge history.

Wasn't sure what to roll, so I rolled both, and failed, +2 + -8 = -6

OOC: I just noticed that the 'cursive' script gives a very flowery font when I use it with my iPad. Strange. What font do you folks get? I am changing it to Serif so this is more readable.

You roll a D20 equal or less than Intelligence. Looks like you rolled a 2, so Angus has read about the Sentinels. I will post what he knows today or tomorrow.

"So this Exidamarall is a person, not a place," Aila said.  "Or a person tied to a place?"

Her eyes slid toward Olagh, she had noted the behavior of the entity Gharakuh toward the man, and none of that made much sense, but she would consider those questions later.

Brulna looked on perplexed her arms folded across her chest. She hoped one of her party understood what was going on.

Before he could say anything else, Aila interjected. "Who did the awakening?"

Gharakuh turned to face her and smiled.

"You, of course." He turns his eyes to Petar. Your visit broke my slumber. After you left, I had many questions and could not return to my rest. I had to discover why you left so fast, and what drove you to descend and leave with so much haste. Now I know."

Trying to get a feel for the being's intentions was hard; Petar felt Gharukh seemed at peace ... but weren't all undead Cursed Horrors?  They certainly were in the stories, from the cunning, centuries old vampires Doomed to the dismal reaches of darkness to the putrid ghouls that hunted for flesh.  Perhaps Gharukh was less undead and more magical ...

"No, I have no desire for revenge. I seek to fulfill my oath. I was not able to keep my people safe, but perhaps you can help me now."

"I .. er, we shall try," Petar says but his hesitation is towards Camille and he looks at the Priestess.  She would join forces with the spirit to save Alinda, surely?

"Their words were full of bravery and courage. They were willing to fight along side us for the good of all. They called themselves Sentinels." He turns to look at Petar. <Serif><Purple>"After seeing you and yours I thought they had sent more envoys, but you showed no sign of knowing me, and left.

"I know nothing of these Sentinels, perhaps too many days have passed, even for the elvenkind among them," Petar says, knowing a thing or two about legends but not this one.  "Your crypt was unlooted, and ancient.  I wonder who knows where it is besides us these days ..."

The elf might have added 'remains unlooted', but Petar feels Gharukh was definitely aware their pursuits were nobler, even if they had huge sacks of orc heads in their possession!

Exidamarall, their leader, cursed us as his life blood poured onto the stones, and promised my death at the hands of the Spirits of Vengeance.

And now, I see my task was not finished."

Agreeing with Aila, Petar added: "A person, or person who takes the same name, for the same ends.  We certainly fought the undead tonight which means they are back and might mean to cause the same plague as before."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:15, Sun 14 Feb 2021.

The shade nodded at Petar's comments.

"I would agree with you. I don't believe this to be the same being. But if his name is used to call back his power, perhaps someone has found a way to learn his secrets. Those bones promise that the name of Exidamarall is going to be whispered in the halls of kings and princes soon, and soldiers will die defending their lands one more time..."

Gharakuh's voice trailed off. His eyes turned upwards to the night sky, where he remained silent for a moment.

The orc leader interjected hesitantly.

[Language unknown: "To Linesttha, heilhi latla tihas n sech pl roul-iste taac ing uteiee o man ie?"]

The shade turned to the orc startingly, as if suddently taken by surprise at his words.

"You honor an old da-ash, kesh' ash*. But I do not wish to risk your lives for the sake of an old grudge."

[Language unknown: "In ilous el i blelester il palat con reul pr pr sti, ur fi p ntibleeau ni notntewhe, ne und lo wil foev alta ilsiiswi e ev. Veratiich ndeverard thu witomeugh. K p wer u pa usssce a ritier io tedun t ar lesprooer a eichtr utfopo stul. Iepostmi?"]

The leader's question was aimed at his troops. They all nodded in assent. [Language unknown: "Ivour a th oulartcon sanionndeion, not wa ersintsti ich ninowi eau eiistaouwe ne ssat. P unomwh rat ilen urunac noiv en ulceol poetut."]

Gharakuh chuckled under their agreement.

"You speak brave words, fire-blooded ones, but this is not an easy fight. If our enemy is as I remember, then this is only the tip of the spear. We must cut the head off before it has a chance to grow."

Gharakuh turns to Sowen and Olagh. "What do you two have to say? Are your kind with or against this?"

Sowen turns to Olagh, then answers carefully. "We don't know anything about this. We are only tagging along because there is gold involved here." Their expressions are serious, which is odd for Sowen, who usually keeps a cheerful mood about him.

Camille comes forward, guarded, but open.

"Ghost, I understand the tale you have given, and I would help if help is needed. But I am bound to another task now. I seek my sister, who was last heard of here, in this wilderness. She is lost, and I fear..." Camille's throat tightens, her words failing her. "... I will not see her again. She may already be dead, but I have hope that she is not. She's a strong girl, and she has training from the temple of Chiress. Have you seen a young human woman in these woods?"

Gharakuh's silent gaze follows her as she speaks, but he shakes his head.

"I have not seen one such as you describe, child. I would offer to help if I knew where she was. Keep your hope up, for as long as there is hope, there is life."

Lland speaks up, apparently having made a decision for himself.

"I say we follow their tracks and find their master. I know my ancestors would turn in their catacombs if I'd let any one become undead while I had something to say about it. I say we crush this Exidamarall and kick his bones back to the underworld he came from."

Mysh is silent, merely nodding and considering things as they are going on. Finally, he adds. "I suppose it is as good a way to go as any other. And if we make it out alive, we might be wiser and richer."

* Orc honorific: noble warrior.

---

OOC: Ok, this took a bit to put together. I hope I did good with all the NPC personalities, but their demeanor, and accent, does fade over time.

Ball's back in your court. =)
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:45, Tue 16 Feb 2021.

Petar was glad to note the orcs were keen to join forces against the undead, and translates for the others a brief summary: since the undead skeletons were orc and goblin, the living orcs don't want to fall victim to the necromancers any more than anyone else.

Gharakuh turns to Sowen and Olagh. "What do you two have to say? Are your kind with or against this?"

~ Their kind? ~ Petar muses, wondering what the brother's secret was.  He was curious but respected their privacy too.  Maybe they would speak on this more once they'd fought in more battles together.

He places a reassuring hand gently on Camille's shoulder.  "We know she was at the battle site, not long ago, let's keep looking and kill the undead as we go," Petar says with a smile.

LLand had the right idea.  Come morning light, they should follow the tracks to their source.  Petar is glad everyone was together on this.

As for the Sentinels, and Gharakuh's apparent role as observer/historian, the elf likes the idea of history repeating itself, as it so often did.  "We shouldn't be so brash to call ourselves 'The New Sentinels'," Petar says with a grin.  "But we can still get about many of the same things.  Lland's right, let's break camp at first light and hunt these Exidamaralls down."

It might be too much to ask the red orcs to help, too, but Petar wasn't going to say no outright.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:35, Tue 16 Feb 2021.

"Agreed," said Aila.  "We need not give ourselves a name as a group, but we should wait to first light.  Not all of us can make our way well in the dark.  And there is strength to be gained in resting when it is time for resting."

In reply to Aila (msg # 228):

The Sentinels identified themselves by a shield of white with three silver maple leaves pointing at the center. Not Heraldically correct, but they were not worried about it.

Camille puts her hand gently on his. There is hope in her eyes, and a smile for his reassurances.

"I know she's still alive. And the more I learn of what has transpired here, the more I feel she would have joined arms against this. Let's rest."

With a nod to Petar she returns to her bedroll, to finish the night as best as possible. She watches the shade of Gharakuh silently for a while, not entirely sure what to think of it.

... a ghost from the first human wars... an orc with a conscience... and an ally? ...

She considered everything she had learned that day. It was terrible news, to be certain. A necromantic cabal bent on bringing the dead back to life, for some terrible lost purpose to their dark gods.

... Chiress, give me the strength to persevere in the days to come, I will surely need it...

With uneasy thoughts, but focused on finding her sister, the young priestess lay her head down to rest and found that it came remarkably easy to fade into sleep.

If you are thinking the presence of silver on white would be hard to see, you are correct. The refence is to a "silver maple" tree, as different from other maple trees. Their leaves have a unique shape among maple trees, a green-light brown coloration. Although in the shield, they are depicted as forest green. =)
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:39, Fri 19 Feb 2021.

In reply to Game Master (msg # 231):

Ahhh, I thought silver color, so they were green! I have sugar maples.

Brulna listened but had nothing to add.  I wonder what my sister did among them? She was ever more brawn over thoughts...

Oswyn sits, thoughtful. There is a lot of new information here, and many of the things he was taught are coming into question. Orcish allies, centuries-gone but now returned necromancers, and a friendly and helpful ghost.

Finally, he looks to his new companions. "Whatever strength I have is at your service. We will do our best to rescue Camille's sister, and destroy this undead threat. If I die in the attempt, my life will have been well spent."

"No one will die in the attempt," Petars says lightly.  "Together, we can't fail, that's what I believe!"

The elf may have heard too many stories where the good guys always prevail, and Petar certainly could tell many from a repertoire spanning child's fables to frantic horror.  But why assume the worst?

To the orc chief:

[Language unknown: "Sailek, ul waine saut mo ate?"]
This message was last edited by the player at 04:07, Fri 19 Feb 2021.

Regnok, the commanding orc answers,

[Language unknown: "P un e eve haset Verhasameear, st lesni e. Pe trro st erwh ivneei ildin undic hofor, u ekacme ec dayca i la."]

What that said, he gathers his warriors back to his fire and prepares to resume resting for the night.

To the others:

"The red orc leader, Rengok" - Petar is careful to get the name right this time! - "wishes to continue our alliance.  I trust that won't be a problem with us, but I understand some have had hard encounters with orcs in the past."

"Still, I feel an orc is not an orc is not an orc; from the history of the Sentinels and beyond to the Da'ash kingdoms of the past; hopefully we can help them and them us - they, well I mean, these ones here anyway, are not the enemy."