After arranging for bedding and private rooms with the Larissa, you are shown to separate accommodations. The rooms are small, and for the 5 copper you pay you get a bed for one, fresh straw and a pair of heavy blankets, one to cover you from the straw, and the second one to cover you against the cold. A pitcher of water and a chamber pot are your only companions, aside from the view out of the small shuttered window. The evening rain persists for a few more hours, and you all fall asleep to the sound of drops hitting the roof and side of the tavern.

The next morning you pick up some breakfast, gather your belongings and head out to the town round.

You walk through the town towards the center, following the main road. A few windows open as you pass and inquisitive faces follow your passage wordlessly. A few smile and wave, others simply stare, or frown, at the "strangers in town". The round is a circle of open space roughly in the center of Emberdell. A large well rests in the middle, around which mill several women, talking among themselves in a lively way. Several smaller buildings are set around the well at an even distance, and a larger two-story one with large doors stands to the north of the round. Several guards mill about the entrance, laughing to themselves.

Your questions reveal that you can find Master Garrel in the larger building, which is the town's hall. As you enter, you are greeted with a large open space and several doors to the right. Past the first door you enter a hallway, and are invited into a separate clerk's room by a young woman, Master Garrel's secretary.

Master Garrel, a man of advanced age for a human, with silver hair and beard, sits behind a large elm desk, framed by several bookshelves filled with scrolls and a few tomes, along with a lamp, several quills, and a bottle of ink. He dresses in clerical robes of green with red and yellow embroidered accents. He wears a large hat under a perpetually frowning face. As you approach, he says,

"Another set of applicants."

He exhales his frustrations.

"Good, good." He opens a large drawer to his right, the bottom most, and pulls a large leather folio to the top of the desk. He meticulously unties the knots, unfolds the leather covers, and pages through the hand-written announcements kept in it.

"You are here for the bounties? Yes? I hope you have better luck than the others before you," he comments with an almost cynical tone, although you thought it may have had a slight glint of hope in it.

He picks several of the vellums and begins to scan them.

"Yes, yes... this is right..."

He clears his throat loudly a few times before launching into the words with a formal tone.

"By order of the court of the magistracy, the free town of Emberdell hereby requests the service of mercenaries for the purposes of ... ah! whatever... drivel, drivel...," Master Garrel spits out in impatience.

"Look, the job's simple. Get rid of the goblins, the orcs, the ogres, and anything else you find out there. It pays well. 10 gp a goblin head, 20 gp for each orc head, and 200 gp for the head of the ogres.

You want the job?"

He looks up at all of you, peering through old suspicious narrowed eyes that have probably seen more than 60 winters.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:12, Fri 01 May 2020.

"Ay, we'll give it a try too." he nods to Garrel. "Nice bounties, big job?"

"Yes," replied Aila.  "It sounds interesting enough.  Do you require the whole head, or some other proof?"

"Ears for instance?" Angus asks.

A pitcher of water and a chamber pot are your only companions

Petar serenades his two room-mates languidly, feeling tiredness and still a bit of awkwardness from the end of the night's events.  In his dreams, he is the Lost Orc, feeling first the terror of capture and then the animal exhiliration of the final inhuman battles.  Ugh, what a nightmare!

A few smile and wave, others simply stare, or frown, at the "strangers in town".

After a big breakfast (always prone to skip meals, Petar has learned on the road to eat while the eating's to be had), the elf returns all smiles and waves with similar, and tries to cheer the frowning with a wink as well.  No point in a grimace when a grin will do!  To the others he chit chats amiably, inquiring about their plans for the day.

"Look, the job's simple. Get rid of the goblins, the orcs, the ogres, and anything else you find out there. It pays well. 10 gp a goblin head, 20 gp for each orc head, and 200 gp for the head of the ogres.

You want the job?"

It struck Petar that this pay was high.  Did that mean the dangers were similarly great, even impossible?  He had questions - where were these creatures, how many tribes, who in town had tangled with them lately and could they interview and learn more - but the Elder's brusque manner forestalls any queries.

Instead, Petar merely nods, letting the others speak for now.

Phelan, axe in hand as if she were expecting the foes to be waiting just outside the town hall, gives one nod in agreement. My axe has been idle too long. she mutters to herself as she wonders how many heads she can fit in the bags in her pack.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:13, Fri 01 May 2020.

"Me have no odder reason fur bein here. But to cleav me sum snarks, count me in." The meaty woman looks on with glee.

Master Garrel peers at the woman who spoke last, narrowing his eyes a bit more until he realizes what he's looking at.

"Hmmph... you are a strong one, aren't you? You can fight?" But then he spots the hilts over her shoulder. His perpetual frown turns into a knowing smile, albeit gruff.

"Good. Good! You are going to need it. And yes," turning to Angus, "you can bring back ears, if you want, but heads are better.

Now...", he turns one of the vellum sheets around and presents it to you. You see a list of names and a few Xs. You can count 14 entries in this list.

"... sign your name or make your mark and you will be joining the ranks of the sanctioned hunters of Emberdell.

Here you go."

He pushes the bottle of ink towards you and lays a quill next to the vellum.

While you are all signing the sheet, he walks to one of the bookshelves next to his table. From the top most partition he pulls a long rolled-up paper and spreads it over the remaining table space. On it is a casually drawn map of Emberdell and its surroundings.

"This is what we have... here", he points to the south-south-east, "are where most of the goblin reports have been made. More than a dozen sightings, and some have been killed, but not all. Others like you have gone out there and brought a few heads in, but they haven't come back. They are nuisances, coming in late and stealing supplies, tools, grains. They also take livestock."

Pointing to the north-west, and drawing his finger in an upper semi-circle to the north-east, he adds,

"Here are the orcs. They are coming down from the mountains and hills. Not so many now, but maybe more tomorrow. Something's got them stirred up, and now they are coming here."

Pointing to the west-north-west hills and mountains he continues,

"This is where the ogres are. They keep coming down to the outskirts and steal a sheep, a cow, or something else. We can't have that going on. We need to let them know they are not welcome.

Now, if you find yourselves along the road", he points to the eastern road over which most of you arrived, "keep a eye out for the robbers. We have our guard patrolling day and night, but they are clever and have eluded the patrols so far. If you find them, bring them in so they can stand trial. But I don't think they will surrender."

Pointing to the south-eastern forest he adds,

"This is where I think they are, but searching the woods is bad. Ambushes. Easy ones. If you choose to go there, keep your eyes open. There's more there than just bandits. Wild pigs, bears, wolves. Dangerous. And bugs... spiders, beetles, angry faeries. But a good hiding place."

As you finish signing your names, he blows on the sheet lightly to dry the ink. Then he takes a blotter and picks up the small stray droplets left behind.

"Good... good. Welcome to the hunters. You are now ready to head out and make a name for yourselves. Do you have any questions?"

Despite his gruff demeanor, Master Garrel manages a smile.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:58, Mon 04 May 2020.

You see a list of names and a few Xs. You can count 14 entries in this list.

Scanning the list quickly, Petar tries to commit the names to memory.  Always good to know who the friendly competition was!

On it is a casually drawn map of Emberdell and its surroundings.

Petar gets quite excited when he sees this, not taking his forest green eyes off of it the whole time the old man is talking.  Goblins here, orcs and ogres there.  He frowns a little when told the eastern road was highwaymen territory.  The fellows giving directions in the last village hadn't mentioned that at all!

"Good... good. Welcome to the hunters. You are now ready to head out and make a name for yourselves. Do you have any questions?"

Yes indeed, quite a few questions.  Who were the top hunters?  What was the record for bounties?  What did the guard do with all those heads?  Strangely enough, perhaps, Petar keeps his peace .. for about ten seconds.

When he does speak, Petar finds his normally glib manner falters somewhat under the stern gaze.  "Ahem, Master Garrel, sir, we heard, ah, talk yesterday in the Sleeping Owl that the young priestess, Camille, had suffered some loss?  Was there anything else you can tell us?  Or where we can speak to her?  Directions to the temple, perhaps?"

The idea of bringing back great big bags of bloody heads was fine and all, he supposed, but helping the local Cleric just seemed as .. no .. more important, not to mention what kind of story this might become !  Petar finds he's holding his breath on Garrel's reply.

Angus nods to Petar's query, it was a good question. Goblins first, easier to kill them.

Angus signed in a spidery cursive hand.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:14, Mon 04 May 2020.

"When you say the heads are better," Aila said, "is the bounty reduced for only ears?"

Getting the information seemed relatively significant--a sack could hold far more ears than heads, but if it were going to reduce the bounty, it seemed much more sensible to go for the whole head.

She had signed her name with a graceful script, with a glance through the legible names already on the page before her.

Phelan signs her name and then nods and grunts in agreement with Angus about the goblins.

Marille rubbed her chin for a moment, then signed her name as well for the goblinkin. In her mind the fighter thought Bettr'n fur numbers than tu be alun.

Peering at the names on the list, you see the following marks:


Jonus Asderlenn

+

Lyanne of Hanerran

Loagen Hollass

Galindo Ter Haar

Alisandre Eriq

X

Inaros Petremol

Haguin Bavent

Durant Kreuger

Clerenbald

Isodemos

Liafwine Danfrie

Ealunar Wylde


Some of the names are clearly of Ragalian descent, others are more elven. The rest are different enough that you might place them with Lohren, or perhaps among dwarves.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:56, Tue 05 May 2020.

Garrel nods at the question, but there is a look of distaste on his face.

"The guards want to put the heads on pikes at the ends of the hills, so orcs who see them will get better ideas than to come down here to visit us."

You can tell he doesn't like it at all, but he shrugs, and adds, "Maybe it will work. Maybe not. You won't get paid any less if you only bring the ears. But you can do me a favor and bring a few heads? Maybe four, five? It will make Joemer happy."

With the marks and signatures out of the way, Master Garrel puts all the papers back into the folio and returns it to the drawer.

"Good. Good! Now, you are ready to go. I have more work to do."

He proceeds to gently usher you out of his office, and walks you to the front door of the hall.

"Now, always be on the lookout. The goblins are sneaky, and they don't like to fight fair. They will always try to outnumber you. I used to be an adventurer like you, but then I took an arrow to the knee my party was killed and I was the last one out. That was many years go. I hope you fare better out there than the others. They never came back."

You find yourselves standing on the steps of the hall, at the edge of the round. The few mingling guards here look at you with curiosity, as if there was something strange or unusual about you.

Finally one of them speaks up.

"Hail there, the Emberdell guard is looking to hire more able-bodied members. You lot look like you could do a good day's work defending the town. It pays well, 12 silver a week, and you get bed, room, and board at the barracks. 'Sides, you look like you are already well trained and able swordsmen. Well, not you." He stares at Angus, who has no outward indications of physical or martial training at all, being clad in the robes of a scribe or wizard.

He approaches Marille, but with some hesitation.

"Now you!, we could really use you. You know how to use a blade and you look like you could cleave a tree in half with a half-hearted swing."

He looks at Marille with an expectant, hopeful look.

As the guardsman makes his pitch, you observe a lone figure approaching from the western end of the round. The figure is clad in metal, with a large shield on the left arm, wearing a heavy light blue tunic with the symbol of Chiress emblazoned on it: a large sun from which pours a spring of water. From the build of the armor, and the shape of the hips, you surmise this is a woman approaching.

OOC: Please feel free to interject into conversations and ask your questions. I am posting the entire line of speaking or thinking as it would happen if there were no interruptions or asides, but of course you will have things to say or ask or observe. Since this is a PbP game, and we are posting roughly once a day, even casual conversations would take a long time if we were only moving at the pace of a regular back-and-forth. So, I put the whole thing down and you guys pick at it as you wish.

"Hail there, the Emberdell guard is looking to hire more able-bodied members ...

While sympathetic to the town's desire to grow the ranks, Petar doesn't particularly feel like being tied down and the bounty pay was certainly generous enough.  He was about to mumble some non-committal reply when ...

As the guardsman makes his pitch, you observe a lone figure approaching from the western end of the round ... From the build of the armor, and the shape of the hips, you surmise this is a woman approaching.

Petar waves and takes a few friendly steps forward.  He doesn't want to leave the others just standing there, though, so he waits for the priestess to arrive.

"Hello!  Are you Camille?"

."Now you!, we could really use you. You know how to use a blade and you look like you could cleave a tree in half with a half-hearted swing." He looks at Marille with an expectant, hopeful look.

Marille eyed the man encouragingly. "Me plan tu do et tu sum gublins. Me bring many heds."

Phelan, relieved that the attention is being drawn to Marille, steps away from the group and watches the figure approaching. She also prefers not to be tied down to a position in the guard.

OOC: This is an interjection into the conversation as Petar asks questions.



"Yes, yes... a sad tale, to be sure. Camille and her sister were recently inducted as clerics of Chiress into our temple. Alinda, Camille's sister, thought she could do more good by joining the last group of explorers to pass through here. They haven't returned. It's been two weeks since they left. The search parties haven't been able to find anything but goblins, so everyone's assuming they all perished." He grunts his displeasure at the whole sad affair. "Camille's been taking it hard. But she's got a strong heart. I just hope she isn't going to do something stupid and join a group of adventurers like her sister. I don't want to lose two good clerics in one spring."

As he pushes the map scroll back on the shelf he adds,

"You can find the temple very close. Just step out and head straight down the southern road. Big building with the Chiress fountain in front of it. Can't miss it."

OOC: A "Chiress" fountain is a magical spring of water that is built by all temples dedicated to the goddess. They are all of different styles but have the common theme of a large circular plate made of stone or metal, representating the sun, from which a light spring of water pours to the ground. All of it is held in a shallow pool where the water is always clean. Anyone drinking from the fountain will feel greatly refreshed and benefit from the Mending Boon once a day.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:40, Wed 06 May 2020.

Marille stood for a moment longer waiting for the question from the man. If he had one if not she will leave to find rations.

"With those boulders, you'll take a lot of heads and ears too. I guess we should make ready to venture out then, Take care of any last minute details and get rations and such."

Phelan turns and talks quietly to the group so that no others may hear: "A cleric would be good to have. I say bring her along if she is willing. Her sister may still be alive and I know what kind of treatment she is getting if she is. Better to be dead."

"I agree, if she is willing, she is welcome," Petar says, glad to hear the dwarf was thinking along the same lines he was.

"We can always use a priest.." Angus chimed in, sad for the poor girl.

"With those boulders, you'll take a lot of heads and ears too. I guess we should make ready to venture out then, Take care of any last minute details and get rations and such."

Marille nodded to the man Black Angus. "Me wull cut a path ta keep ye safe."

"Thank you Marille, I'm not so good at that kind of thing, I'm glad you are."

"Me wullin to make me ancesturs prud."

Marille made a fist.

Marille stood for a moment longer waiting for the question from the man. If he had one if not she will leave to find rations.

The guard making the pitch looked at everyone, but from everyone's reactions, or lack thereof, it was clear to him the offer was not very popular.

"With those boulders, you'll take a lot of heads and ears too. I guess we should make ready to venture out then, Take care of any last minute details and get rations and such," Angus commented.

Then the conversation becomes more private.

Phelan turns and talks quietly to the group so that no others may hear: "A cleric would be good to have. I say bring her along if she is willing. Her sister may still be alive and I know what kind of treatment she is getting if she is. Better to be dead."

"I agree, if she is willing, she is welcome," Petar says, glad to hear the dwarf was thinking along the same lines he was.

"We can always use a priest," Angus chimed in.

Marille nodded to Angus, "Me wull cut a path ta keep ye safe."

"Thank you Marille, I'm not so good at that kind of thing, I'm glad you are."

"Me wullin to make me ancesturs prud." Marille made a fist.

Seeing as no one was paying attention to him anymore, the guard finished his offer.

"Alright. The offer stands for all able soldiers. Find us at the barracks, east of here."

The guard withdraws back to the company of his fellows. The others nod and give him expressions that only say "hey, we understand". They turn away from you but stay on their posts by the hall's entrance.

Petar waves and takes a few friendly steps forward.  He doesn't want to leave the others just standing there, though, so he waits for the priestess to arrive.

"Hello!  Are you Camille?"

The woman was wearing a worn set of plate and mail with a shield that had clearly seen better days. The armor was certaily serviceable, but the shield would probably have to be replaced soon. An old round-head mace bounced off her right hip, and the straps of a heavy pack hugged her shoulders.

She looked up at Petar and answered,

"Yes, I am Camille. Are you the new adventurers? I need to find someone who's gone missing not too long ago. Can you use another pair of hands?"

She pulls the mace from her belt and swings it around from the leather safety strap twice, catching it by the haft with her palm again. It looks like she knows how to use it.

"I can fight, and I can heal." She points to her tunic's emblem. "I'm with Chiress."

She peers over your shoulders at the guards, who have taken a keen interest in the presence of the young priestess at the hall's entrance.

"You tell Garrel and Joemer that I am not done with my search yet." She seems adamant in her intentions, a striking contrast to her otherwise kind and gentle face.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 03:37, Fri 08 May 2020.

"Yes, I suppose we are the new adventurers.  I am Aila," she said, giving the priestess a polite bow.  "Aiding in such a search is a fine direction to make a start of things.  What information about your search might help us complete our preparations to head out?"

"I am Angus, yes, we will help you find your sister and collect the heads of our enemies at the same time."

Phelan turns to Camille and says, I hope we can find your sister. I don't doubt your prowess as a fighter, but if I may, can I replace that shield before we venture out? It has obviously seen many battles and we will undoubtedly be needing your healing powers before all is said and done.

"I can chip in for a new shield for her too. I have some few coins." Angus chimes in with a nod and a smile to Phelan.

"Yes, I suppose we are the new adventurers.  I am Aila," she said, giving the priestess a polite bow.  "Aiding in such a search is a fine direction to make a start of things.  What information about your search might help us complete our preparations to head out?"

"Sadly I have not much to offer. All I know is that there are beasts out there past the edges of our town, and that they are threatening us by coming too close. I also know that the guard have lost at least two of their own, so they are on high alert. I haven't stepped far, because I am the only one, but if you let me join you I know we can go further and... still return." There is a small glimmer of sadness that passes over her face like a shadow, vanishing as quickly as it arrived.

"I am Angus, yes, we will help you find your sister and collect the heads of our enemies at the same time."

"Thank you, but how do you know about my sister?"

Turning to answer Phelan's and Angus' offer, she replies, "Thank you, you are very generous. This is my father's shield. He carried it in battle whenever he needed to answer Her call. I want to do the same. I will gladly accept your gift when I have finished my task." She gives them a soft approving nod and a smile.

Turning to everyone else, she adds,

"When do we depart?"
This message was last updated by the player at 16:33, Fri 08 May 2020.

"We heard the story of your sister from a few sources, we are sad for you not finding her sooner, we will help you bring her home. Perhaps she is only held prisoner. I'm ready to go now."

She looked up at Petar and answered,"Yes, I am Camille. Are you the new adventurers?

It hadn't struck him yet, but it did then!  An adventurer!  Petar gave Angus a side-smile, why just the other day he'd told the fellow he was a bard.  Imagine.

"You tell Garrel and Joemer that I am not done with my search yet." She seems adamant in her intentions, a striking contrast to her otherwise kind and gentle face.

Petar is also quite serious and solemn when he says, "Let's search together, and no time to lose.  We've signed up for some bounties.  As the kids say, heads will roll!"

Petar suggests everyone make sure their canteens are full before leaving town, something he's learned the hard way since leaving the comforts of the city.  "I think we can't go wrong buying some extra food and I want another quiver.  Then let's be off to make the most of this daylight!"

To the sister rescue!  Petar grins at the excitement ahead and what will surely become a fantastic tale to share and spread.

To expedite shopping, can we assume book items and book prices?  Nothing crazy here, just food and arrows

Angus told the others "I have to collect and load my mule and I'll be ready to go, 5, perhaps 10 minutes time."


Angus collects his mule and gear and comes back to the party.

Turning to answer Phelan's and Angus' offer, she replies, "Thank you, you are very generous. This is my father's shield. He carried it in battle whenever he needed to answer Her call. I want to do the same. I will gladly accept your gift when I have finished my task."

Phelan nods, "I see his strength both in you and his shield. May it serve you as well as it did him."

She turns to the others: "For my part, my pack is complete and I am ready to venture out although I am sure it will need refilling after a few encounters."

She turns back to Camille, "Since it makes no matter from whence we claim our bounty, I defer to you as to our direction of travel. Perhaps, if luck is with us, we can return with ample heads and your sister."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 17:00, Fri 08 May 2020.

"I don't believe I would be of much help right now. I only know that you can find goblins to the south, and orcs to the north. But I haven't dared to find much by myself. I will go where you decide."

---

OOC: Yes, you can assume book prices as the average. Go ahead and buy what you need.

So, you first big decision on your first outing: which direction do you wish to head? The map scale is 1 mile/hex, so crossing the distance is relatively quick. Nothing is more than roughly a day away in all directions.

"Then I say go for the goblins today if we don't know where to look for your sister Camille. Lead on, me and Rosy will stay in the middle of the pack."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:26, Fri 08 May 2020.

Petar closes his eyes and concentrates for a moment and the map they'd recently seen forms in his mind.  He uses a quick Tricks cantrip, and an illusory copy of the map appears, floating in air.  It's rough but shows the forests as green swathes and hills as brown blobs.

"Goblins to the south-south-west," Petar recalls and on the illusion a red arrow moves from a central black splotch - Emberdell, presumably - to a red circled area.  "Since they were thieving tools and farm animals, if we ask around at farmsteads we find on the outskirts, we can learn more or even find a trail."

Bought a week of food, 20 arrows 10 arrows (ugh, forgot how expensive things were!) and used 1 charm

For march order, how about Marile and Phelan at the front, Petar and Camille, then Angus and Aila with Liriel at the rear?
This message was last edited by the player at 18:07, Fri 08 May 2020.

Yeah, Liriel... I haven't seen a thing about her during past week. I will have to pull her participation now, as this is a good moment, and if she returns, she would be able to catch up easily with every one, since the distances are so short.

So: Liriel heads out to get supplies but when returns she tells you that that she has temporarily decided to help them out with the road thieves. It's a personal matter. She will catch up with the rest of you at the first opportunity.

"Then I believe I am ready for the venture," said Aila, a small smile playing across her face.

---

I'd recommend putting the order as:

Marille ... Phelan

Camille .. Aila

Angus (with mule)

Petar (who has range)

That order works for me.

Liriel tells you .. She will catch up with the rest of you at the first opportunity.

Wishing the determined-looking lady elf well, Petar shifts to the rear guard spot.  He's a little reluctant, it seems he wanted to spend some time walking beside the Priestess and getting to know her better.  For the stories ;)

"Walk and talk with me for now Petar. We could both use the company." He gives an apple to Rosey.

After an hour in town to get what you need to prepare for the hunt, you regroup at the round and start your trek southwards, where the goblins are supposed to be found.

You approach the edge of town and spot the temple of Chiress, a remarkable round structure built with a dome and many columns. The front of the temple is set with a combination of blue, red, yellow, and white stones, creating a mosaic of a rising sun over a large sea. On the grounds before  the building lies what you know as a Chiress fountain, an enchanted spring of water that provides small boons for travelers and all followers of the goddess.

"Let's refill," Camille mentions to everyone, and she breaks off and approaches the pouring water. She drops her pack off her shoulders and pulls small ceramic vials out of it. These she dips into the shallow pond of the pool, closing them off with a cork, and putting them back into the pack. She gets up when she's filled eight of them.

"If you have any empty bottles, fill them with blessed water."

As you wait by the pool, you notice the bottom is also a mosaic of yellow, gold, and orange stones, depicting a full sun with wavy rays. The colors fill the pool with a gentle yellow reflection. The air around you seems peaceful, almost welcoming you to stop for a moment and take a rest.

"The water's potency only lasts for three days, but I don't think we'll be away that long."

Angus fills his waterskin to the top.

You approach the edge of town and spot the temple of Chiress, a remarkable round structure built with a dome and many columns.

Temples such as these had to be popular spots, Petar figures, with citizens coming around for aid and advice from time to time.  He was amazed at the folk with the patience to deal with all those problems.  The elf perches near the fountain and watches the area, humming to himself.

The colors fill the pool with a gentle yellow reflection. The air around you seems peaceful, almost welcoming you to stop for a moment and take a rest.

He could sit here the whole day, if the weather held.  Already he was tempted to languidly stretch out and watch clouds pass overhead and listen to the gentle commotion of the village outskirts.  But as Petar's gaze lingers again on Camille, he's reminded of the mission and it sits him up with a jolt.

A blessing such as this was not one which should be lightly ignored, Aila thought, and so it was that she took a waterskin from her pack and unrolled it, filling it from the fountain.

After fill his waterskin to the top, Angus gets his mule and himself back in line for travel.

Phelan empties the remaining water from her waterskin and fills it as the others have done then says, "Ready."

After filling with water from the fountain, you march past the edge of town and into the wilderness. Following the walking trail you continue for a short spell and then come to your first bridge. This is a serviceable old wooden bridge, wide enough for a full cart.

Once crossed, the bridge gives way to the wild grasslands of the area. South of you the terrains has a gentle slope, mildly tilting down further towards the south. Not too far off you see the cultivated rows of plants and orchards from various farms. You can barely see the people as small dots in the distance, working on the soil and kneeling between the rows of stalks growing steadily upwards.

Less than an hour later you arrive at your first farm settlement. Here you see approximately a dozen steads, scattered along the land, each one consisting of various buildings. The few farmers on the trail watch as you come and go, giving you a casual nod but not saying much. That is until the see Camille, then their demeanor changes to friendly.

"Good day, priestess."

"Bless you, priestess."

She stops for a moment to greet them, taking their hands into hers, and asking about their families. There is a bit of chit chat about the weather, the crops, the wives and children, and the health of the livestock. She introduces you as new adventurers, with the promise that you will rid the lands of the goblins, and then the orcs. They look at you with promise in their eyes, but keep their distance. Once all the pleasantries are done, you resume your trek.

The trail ends past the farmsteads, and you find yourselves approaching the wild grasslands of the area. The grass resembles a sea of green, with the spring breezes gently bending the stalks like waves over an ocean. It is as tall as three feet in some parts, making it difficult to walk through it, slowing you down considerably. To Phelan, this grass can come all the way to her head, making this quite an interesting challenge.

You keep walking towards the south-east, or towards the forests you can see in the distance, until you arrive at a few hills after about two hours. From this slightly higher vantage point, you can tell the grasses are not as tall here, and the land begins to open into different varieties of plants. A few more scattered trees are visible, but they remain sparse until the edge of the woods, about a mile away. You spot a wild cat, a tan medium-sized beast, but it decides to give way to your group seeing as there are six of you and it is alone.

Camille takes several drinks of her water skin. Carrying all that metal is hard work, and she's sweating profusely. Which is more of an indication of her strength, as she has not complained in the least about travelling in all that heavy armor.

It is now perhaps an hour before midday.

Not too far away, perhaps a third of mile to the west, among a cluster of trees, you spot a large of group birds suddenly lift into the air.

This is a serviceable old wooden bridge, wide enough for a full cart.

As they pass over, Petar examines the river closely.  It may just happen they'd need to cross the water elsewhere, and he wants to get an idea of how swiftly it runs and how deep.  "Good fishing here, Priestess?" he asks Camille.

She introduces you as new adventurers, with the promise that you will rid the lands of the goblins, and then the orcs.

Petar tries to look as 'adventurous' as possible, not easy when you lacked any sort of facial hair and were not quite over-tall.  He shadows Camille as she makes the rounds, understanding the duty of the clergy and seeing first-hand how central a cleric was to rural life.  Here was someone who would birth, bless, marry and bury whole families as well as cure wounds and diseases.  All for really no profit at all except the prosperity of the community.

With that last in mind, Petar seeks out and asks the following questions of a younger farmer who might be a militiaman, or at least more traveled than the older folk: "Goblins are taking tools?  Animals?  Is there something you can tell us about their numbers?  Did they use bows?"

***

You spot a wild cat, a tan medium-sized beast, but it decides to give way to your group seeing as there are six of you and it is alone.

"No one go wandering off alone," Petar says pleasantly, watching the beast stalk off.  One solitary cat might attack one solitary hiker, or a wounded group.  "No wolves troubling these areas?" he asks Camille.

Not too far away, perhaps a third of mile to the west, among a cluster of trees, you spot a large of group birds suddenly lift into the air.

"It might be nothing," Petar says, quickly readying his bow and studying the birds, in case they were arrowing right at them instead of flying away normally.  "Goblins don't like daylight, but those trees are shaded.  Let's expect the worst and laugh about how it was just the wind after."

Hmm, about 500 yards away .. any cover between us and those trees?

Edit: Perception result is a 2+6 = 8 vs WIS 10.  Success?

16:30, Today: Petar the Elf rolled 2 using 1d20.  Perception check, scan the woods.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:31, Mon 11 May 2020.

"Something spooked those birds. Maybe another wild cat or worse. Can anyone see anything?" The group can sense the irritation in her voice as she is not enjoying the terrain in the least.

Marille unsheathed her sword and took an at the ready position as she tried to see what her dwarven companion saw. She squinted, but the muscled female did notice the birds take flight.

"Me wee friend dwarf. Ye want te take a wugerin un gublin heads?"

OOC: If you are trying to investigate the area, give me a Perception Check. This is a WSD roll, lower than or equal, with a +6 penalty for very long distance.

"I can't really tell anything, especially from here," said Aila, a hand over her eyes as she peered toward the place from which the birds had taken flight.  "I can try to sneak a little closer and see if I can tell more. Not that I'd be trying to take something on myself," she added.  "Just that I can be quick and quiet, if need be."

---

Wouldn't have made the check even without the modifier. 21 v 13

Taking just an educated guess, and considering how dark the water looks, he would estimate it being at least two fathoms deep. The river bed slopes deeply into the center, and the current is moderately strong. While a swimmer could easily cross it, they would be carried quite a distance downstream before arriving at the other side.

Camille comments back, "No, no fishing here. They don't reach this far into the river."


The farmers look at each other and try to answer.

"Yes, tools: shovels, spades, buckets, axes. They even took firewood. Strange. They can get wood anywhere. And some chickens. They came at night, like goblins do. We couldn't catch them. They ran when saw us. Not a hardy bunch, or maybe not too many of them," they laughed. "Bows? I don't know. They didn't shoot at us."

***

"Not right now. Game is easy to come by, and the wolves travel along the forests to the west and south-east. They wouldn't come out in the open here anyway. Hard to hunt for them like that. But wait until fall. You'll see more of them when game is scarce."


No, not much. Just some more grass and a few scattered trees. The lack of cover is the reason you can see that far away.

14:02, Today: Camille rolled 19 using 1d20.  Perception.

Camille took the opportunity to take a quick breather.

"Yes, something spooked those birds. Could be anything. But it could also be the goblins we are looking for."

She turns to scan the area, slowly circling the southern hemisphere from west to east.

"Nothing. I don't see a thing."

Phelan turns to the group and says, "Let's take advantage of this damn grass. If there is something there it  may have spotted all of you by now but I am too damn short to be seen in all this. Keep walking and talking as if you took no notice of the birds. I will try and sneak around to the other side and see if I can spot anything once I get to a spot where the grass isn't as high. If nothing else, I may hear (or smell) something. But be ready just in case I get caught alone.Ok?"

"Should we check it out? They will flee before us if it is them. Try it Phelan, but be careful."

This message was deleted by the player at 13:38, Tue 12 May 2020.

"I can try to sneak a little closer and see if I can tell more. Not that I'd be trying to take something on myself," she added.  "Just that I can be quick and quiet, if need be."

Far be it from Petar to boss anyone around, but he looks very alarmed at the idea of anyone going off alone.  "No, no let's stick together.  If there are watchers, we've been spotted in this terrain ourselves.  I mean," he grins, "we have a pack animal."

Petar's elven eyes prove keen at this juncture, and he spots movement amidst the trees. Whatever it is is moving with rough motion and low to the ground. Something with dark colors. But it is too far to make out any more detail.

Describing to the others what he sees, Petar concludes its not goblins.  He thinks if they move ahead together, they'll be able to search those woods safely but, of course, if someone was determined to scout then it was their decision!
This message was last edited by the player at 15:35, Tue 12 May 2020.

Marille looked at the dwarf then at the elf. She knew she had no skill in spotting or being sneaky so she simply resheathed her sword and took took the advice of the dwarf. In her mind she thought A thief or scout would be nice right about now. The burly woman scratched her chin with her thumb in quiet contemplation.

"Don't worry," said Aila.  "I only mean to go as far as I must to tell for sure what we're looking at.  But perhaps--if you start off that way," and she gestured an angle that took a slight turn away from the place the birds had flown from.  "And then I shall return when I've had a better sighting.  And if you hear a whip-poor-will, please get that bow ready."  She smiled and gave her elven acquaintance a slight bow.

Since clearly there were several in the group who wanted to know more, she started off then in her own way, moving in a slight arc opposite the way that she had suggested for the rest of the group and not straight on to the bird-leaving-point.

Perhaps I will put those lessons to use now, she thought, as she allowed herself to bend and move like the grass in the wind as she made her way toward what she presumed to be the bird-startling thing, keeping her eyes moving to check the ground as well as keeping the destination in view, watching carefully so that as soon as the thing became recognizable she might pause before retreat to re-join the others to relate what she discovered.

Keeping a low profile, Aila began her approach towards the trees nearby. It was slow progress, with the occasional poking head cautiously above the grass in order to measure the advance and direction.

OOC: Give me a Hiding roll (+15 from Grass), followed by another Perception roll (no modifiers).

Aila gets to within maybe 70 or 80 yards from the trees. There is rustling along the undergrowth, with the shade making the contrast of the area hard to peer in, seeing as she's out in the sun's glare. But there is something there.

Every One Else: Aila vanishes into the grass. For a while you can see her trail as she pushes the stalks aside, but as the distance between you and her grows even that fades away among so much greenery.

Aila frowned as she continued her movement, trying to peer into the dark from the light.

---

Well, she thinks she's pretty hidden (39 v 25)

Killed it on the perception roll: 1 vs 13

"Don't worry," said Aila.  "I only mean to go as far as I must to tell for sure what we're looking at.  But perhaps--if you start off that way," and she gestured an angle that took a slight turn away from the place the birds had flown from.  "And then I shall return when I've had a better sighting.  And if you hear a whip-poor-will, please get that bow ready."  She smiled and gave her elven acquaintance a slight bow.

Unsure if the bow was a formal thing or not, Petar merely nodded at first before awkwardly bowing as well, trying to mimic the exact depth.  "Be careful," he muttered to Aila's retreating form as he moved to the front of the pack and tried to 'walk casual', steering them off at the prescribed angle while hoping that whip-poor-wills were not native to this particular patch.

Aila

Aila's sneaking was adequate, specially when it came to hiding in shadows, although she was not yet at a "professional" level. Nonetheless, the grass proved to be a formidable tool to sneak about, to remain unseen. However, remaining unheard was another thing altogether. The rest of the party was visible from her vantage point, dutifully providing a distraction.

She got as close as she dared, and finally saw her quarry: bugs. Huge beetles! Bigger than the largest dogs she's ever seen. Four of them. They were poking and prodding something in the dirt among the underbrush. She couldn't tell what it was, but it appeared they were feeding on something. The bugs had odd protuberances on their foreheads, like small orange lights or glowing segments in their shells. One of them opened its back carapace and flapped its translucent wings with a loud drone, shifting position with ease.


Everyone Else

It had only been a very short while as a day goes, but Aila was still out there. It was hard to tell where she actually stood. This only confirmed in your minds that anyone hiding in the grass would be hard to see. What else might be out there, watching you now, that you could not see?

Circling back away, wanting to make an arc rather than taking a straight path to the others, Aila started to make her way back to the group, trying to pay attention to both the location of the bugs--to make sure they didn't take notice of her despite their feast; the ground itself so she didn't get tangled up, and trying to also pick out the rest of the group to rejoin them.  Once rejoined with the group, she intended to describe the things as best she could, despite the fact that she'd never seen anything exactly like that before.

What else might be out there, watching you now, that you could not see?

Indeed.  The grass was tall enough to hide a whole goblin village.  Petar feels more and more tense as the minutes go by, keeping one eye on the woods where the birds had flown from and one ear listening for Aila's call.

Assuming she makes it back to report, otherwise ignore the following:

The elf had listened carefully Aila's descriptions.  He knew a lot of woodlore, mostly plants though.  Perhaps his mother's journals had mentioned these strange insects?

Nature Lore (forest) appropriate for some knowledge on the critters?

Phelan shifts her weight uncomfortably from foot to foot waiting for Aila to return.

Aila: You make it back after about an hour's trek, give or take.

Petar: Nature Lore will certainly speak to that knowledge. Go ahead and roll your skill. Indeed, you may be able to recognize these creatures by Aila's description alone.

Everyone Else/Together: It is now almost midday. Where do you wish to head? The field is wide open.

Listening closely, the elf is fairly certain they were fire beetles, unintelligent woodland creatures that would certainly be as aggressive towards goblins as anything else.  "Let's leave them be, they have tough shells and powerful mandibles."

It is now almost midday. Where do you wish to head? The field is wide open.

Petar suggests they take a quick meal and then keep on going, heading to the nearest forested hills area, where he thinks the goblins are hiding in caves or similar shelters.

12 vs INT 17 succeeds, I think there's a -2 bonus for matching the terrain to Forest as well.  Do Fire beetle glands have treasure value in Karanos?

18:45, Today: Petar the Elf rolled 12 using 1d20.  Nature Lore (Forest), ID the critters.

"Fire beetles," said Aila, aloud, putting the name to the image in her memory.  "What do they eat?  I couldn't really see what they were eating, perhaps an old or sick bird from the flock that flew away?"

"It would be well enough to take the time to eat," she added.  "And then continue as you suggest."  Her eyes darted from one companion to the next before she added, "Agreed?"

As the bulky woman listened to the conversation she shook her head, "fire beetles..." "Te be certun, me cun tuk firs wutch." Marille looked into the others eyes. She would allow any other to take watch as well.

"Agreed. It is as a good a time as any. Maybe the beetles have the right idea," she amused herself. "Can't do much with an empty stomach."

Camille dropped her pack, and pulled out a small leather skin unwrapping trail food: dried meats, fruits, nuts, raisins, road loaves. She bit heartily into the meats, and stuffed a bunch of everything down. She finished it all with a long drink of water, of which she used a bit to pour over her head to cool down a bit.

"Petar, you've traveled much? I know there are elves some days away from here, to the west. But they don't like visitors. Can you tell me why? It looks like they look down on us."

"Fire beetles," said Aila, aloud, putting the name to the image in her memory.  "What do they eat?

"What do beetles eat?" Petar repeats with a smile.  He can't help but wonder at some folks' education.  Now, there was a lot he didn't know, too, of course.  "Roots, leaves, fallen fruit ... but fire beetles are giant beetles, they have magical origins and I think they eat just about anything, plant or animal."

Keenly aware not to lecture, Petar changes the subject on the grasses here and how easy it was for Aila to hide away.  "Three steps and it's like you were invisible," he beams.

"Petar, you've traveled much? I know there are elves some days away from here, to the west. But they don't like visitors. Can you tell me why? It looks like they look down on us."

"It's true, some elf lands can be difficult to enter; you meet an Eluvari and you find a people who are ancient, advanced, and, well, arrogant," Petar says between bites, chewing on some trail mix.  "I haven't traveled far from home, though, so I can't say why your particular fellows act isolated.  Maybe there was a conflict here in the past - that's almost always the case, if you unravel the history, far enough, I mean."

Perhaps predictably, Petar seems happy to go on and on about this subject, threatening to give a whole history of elvendom before quickly side-tracking back to personal affairs and explaining how his family were part of a small Estandoli clan of hunters and trappers who ventured closer to human lands in the recent past.  After closer and closer business dealings and trading ties, a few actually settled in a town.  "My mother, er, birth, uhm, elven mother, she left after that .. not much after I was born.  It's my father's second wife - a human no less - that taught me herbalism and, of course, all my stories ..."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:27, Thu 14 May 2020.

"She must have been a wonderful mother, to raise a stout elf like you even though she was human. Is she still among the living? I know elves live very long lives. My mother died in a farm accident. She fell from a barn roof and didn't land gracefully. I remember her still." There is a pause to her story, as it appears she's reviewing her memories. "Iregardless, I know we all have homes and families. It is good to hear. Thank you." She finishes the conversation with a tentative smile and a nod, and begins packing up her supplies again.

After resting for a short while, the party chooses a direction and continues their search by approaching the nearby woods. It takes less than an hour to reach the edge of the trees. The shade is welcome in an otherwise hot day, and the cool air beneath the canopies feels refreshing.

The undergrowth here is quite different from the open grasses in the fields. Here, shrubs and wild ferns predominate, along with bushes and briars. Beautiful chestnut trees cover the area, leaving plenty of space for the sun's rays to nourish the wild growth on the ground. You begin to notice a rich element of insects and arachnids everywhere. A few moths and many types of catterpillars also share the living space here. Several varieties of wild flowers, with light yellow, light red, and light blue petals thrive here, trying to outdo each other for the scarce rays of light.

You continue your path between the trees. There is plenty of space, so the occasional roots and overgrowth does not impede your progress. Visibility is hampered by the shrubs and bushes, but so far nothing sounds out of the ordinary.

That is until amidst all the normal bird calls and buzzing insects you hear a set of hoarse shrieks and the flapping of wings of what appear to be several large birds with unusually long beaks. They drop from the trees several dozen yards away from you and soar straight into your formation.

---

OOC: Nature roll to identify these, if you desire. ;)

Someone roll me a Surprise roll. You are entering combat.

I will work on a map for this situation, but we should be able to "theatre of the mind" it just as easily.


Petar, sorry I haven't answered your question yet. Yes, the glands of fire beetles can be sold to the right buyer. They occasionally go for 3 to 5 gp each, depending on the season and the buyer. After harvesting, a well-prepared gland may last for two months. If not, it will decompose like any other organ and be useless after two days. They are frequently used to give color to special mixtures, and sometimes as alternate spell components where fire or light is the desired result. Preparation usually involves cleaning them from any excess meat, drying, and curing them. The glands are not edible as the "glowing" nature of the gland is acidic and bitter to the taste.

"She must have been a wonderful mother, to raise a stout elf like you even though she was human. Is she still among the living?

"Oh yes, she's still quite a young lady.  She encouraged me to leave home and travel a bit, just this winter's end.  A few steps here and a few there, and soon I ended up in Emberdell!"

***

you hear a set of hoarse shrieks and the flapping of wings of what appear to be several large birds with unusually long beaks. They drop from the trees several dozen yards away from you and soar straight into your formation.

"Beware!" Petar calls from his observation post at the rear.  "Stirges!"

Surprise roll: 1 (doh), although I think PCs with Alertness can act?
Lore Skill roll: 9 vs 17.  Guessing stirges ;)
Alert Skill roll: 12 vs 17, success?
Init: 2+1 for high DEX = 3?

13:28, Today: Petar the Elf rolled 1 using 1d6.  Party Surprise roll.
13:29, Today: Petar the Elf rolled 9 using 1d20.  Nature Lore (Forest), ID flyers.
16:11, Today: Petar the Elf rolled 2 using 1d6.  R1 Party Init.
16:11, Today: Petar the Elf rolled 12 using 1d20.  Petar alertness roll vs 17.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:12, Fri 15 May 2020.

Yes indeed, the ever present flying D&D terrors that are stirges! Hold on to your blood! =)

OOC: Please check on the Combat Summary thread and confirm that I have both the stats summary and the marching order correct.

"Beware!" Petar calls from his observation post at the rear.  "Stirges!"

The "birds" have very clear intentions: they flap their awkward feathered wings straight at you, using their "beaks" to attempt to impale you.

Two head straight for Marille, and three for Phelan. Two more soar over the first line and land one each on Petar and Camille.

13:51, Today: Game Master rolled 8,1,12,1 using 1d20,1d3,1d20,1d3.  Stirges on Marille.
13:52, Today: Game Master rolled 12,1,7,1,13,2 using 1d20,1d3,1d20,1d3,1d20,1d3.  Stirges on Phelan.
13:53, Today: Game Master rolled 10,3 using 1d20,1d3.  Stirge on Petar.
13:53, Today: Game Master rolled 1,3 using 1d20,1d3.  Stirge on Camille.

The stirges come in hard and fast. Marille, despite her surprise, manages to avoid getting stung, defying all luck. Phelan fares just as well, her heavier armor proving good protection.

On the second line, stings bounce off Petar's heavy metal, and the stirge aiming for Camille just plain misses by coming in too high and clumsily bouncing off her shoulder plates.

Where everyone else was taken by surprise, Petar's keen senses have him reacting the moment the birds begin to shriek.

OOC: Petar get to act this round, avoiding surprise.

After the first thrust, the stirges are on you. They crawl and scratch, seeking a place to drive their long beaks through your skin.

OOC: Order is Stirges then Party

In a flash the elf had slung one hand through a shield loop and drawn his slim sword in a smooth, well-practiced motion.  Petar wasn't a swordmaster by any means but he definitely had practiced this move a lot.  His swipe at the nearest stirge, though, was too slow by half and the creature dodged easily before it settled on his shoulder, trying to stick its thin proboscis right through the pauldron.

7 to hit strikes AC 12 for 8 damage, assumed miss

17:09, Today: Petar the Elf rolled 5,6 using d20,d8.  Petar sword attack vs Stirge.

This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 00:16, Sat 16 May 2020.

The staff which Aila had been using as a walking stick while they traveled along quickly slid into her two handed grip as she prepared to beat off the "birds" (stirges).  There was a light smile playing across her lips as she prepared for the thump of stirge against staff.

---

Forgot to put the modifiers in when rolling:

19:42, Today: Aila rolled 3 using 1d6.  damage? - (3+1 = 4 if successful)

19:42, Today: Aila rolled 13 using 1d20.  to hit  (+1 = 14/AC5)

Round 1: Stirges

The group gathers their bearings and draws weapons, ready to fight. The stirges, though, have had the advantage of surprise and are now clambering over you, poking and prodding in painful ways. Their shrieks are unsettling, but not as much as their small little clawed gripping appendages stinging through the links of your mail.

Marille's luck continues unabated. Despite only wearing leathers, and having her arms and lower section exposed, the stirges fail to find a good grip, far less a good spot to puncture her. (Miss! Miss!)

The critters clamber all over Phelan, flapping their wings to avoid being shaken loose. One of them actually finds a weak spot, and pushes it's beak into the dwarf's upper shoulder. (Miss! Miss! Hit! 2 Dmg.)

The stirge on Petar, despite its best attempts, cannot find a spot to push through under all the plate and mail. (Miss!)

Camille turns to watch the creature pick itself up from the ground again. It seems a bit perturbed from the hit it took. It tries to speed at her one more time, only to slam straight into her shield, bounce off stunned, and land on the ground again. (Miss! Another Crit Failure!)

OOC: That stirge on Camille is just not having a good day. That's the second 1 it rolled in as many rounds.

Round 1: Party
It's your turn. Aila already posted.

Aila rushes ahead to cross the distance, and the staff does indeed land with a satisfying *thump* on the closest stirge. You hear a fleshy *crack* from its frame, and then it moves no more. Camille looks up from behind her shield and smiles approvingly.

The cleric quickly turns her attention after thanking the mystic for the help. Moving ahead past Angus and his mule, she heads for Phelan, who's swarmed with the bloodsuckers.

"Hold still!"

Mace in hand, she swings upwards, hoping not only to hit the creatures but also to dislodge them. But the blow is too cautious. Trying not to harm Phelan, Camille swings too far away and misses altogether. (Miss!)

Eyes wide from the unsuspected stirge attack. Marille gathered her bearings quickly and swung out with her Long sword at her attacker.
"Gunna cleave you in two me wull!"

OOC:
01:52, Today: Marille Ughari rolled 6 using 1d8+2.  dmg?

01:51, Today: Marille Ughari rolled 10 using 1d20+2.  sword attack

Angus slashes a stirge, cutting him deep!

08:28, Today: Black Angus rolled 3 using 1d4+1.  damage.

08:27, Today: Black Angus rolled 18 using 1d20+1.  to hit.

The critters clamber all over Phelan, flapping their wings to avoid being shaken loose. One of them actually finds a weak spot, and pushes it's beak into the dwarf's upper shoulder. (Miss! Miss! Hit! 2 Dmg.)

Alarmed at seeing one 'mosquito bird' attach itself to Phelan, Petar ignores the one wriggling on himself as best he can and moves over.  He aims a tricky stab, not a full lunge that would also harm the dwarf but a more surgical poke right in the beast's head that would surely kill it.

12 to hit strikes AC 7 for 8 damage

08:43, Today: Petar the Elf rolled 10,6 using d20,d8.  R1  Petar Sword vs Phelan attached Stirge.

Phelan pulls her battle axe and swings at the creature nearest to her.

05:52, Today: Phelan rolled 21 using 1d20+2

occ I assume that would be a critical hit?.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:01, Sun 17 May 2020.

The sword sliced through the side of the stirge, cleaving the left wing and parts of the legs and lower body. It fell to the ground, all drive knocked out of it.


Angus rushes forward, leaving his mule behind, aiming to help Phelan. A well-executed swing brings another stirge down from the dwarf's body.


Aiming to be careful, Petar strikes at the stirge with a piercing thrust, spearing it squarely through, then flinging it off his blade with a wide swing. The stirge's body flies through the air only losing itself in the underbrush as it lands.


With all of the stirges on her on the ground or dead, Phelan directs her attention to Marille. The blade of her axe makes short work of a stirge. Two bloody chunks fall to the ground at her feet.

OOC: No, a 21 off of a 1d20+2 roll would mean it was a 19, not a 20.

I believe that leaves only the one on Petar.

Round Two: Stirges

The party's reaction was swift and effective, even when caught by surprise. The last stirge gives up the goal of midday meal, and turns to fly away. Petar has a chance to strike at it before it flies off into the trees.

Petar has a chance to strike at it before it flies off into the trees.

Not feeling particularly vindictive, the elf does not slash at the retreating beastie.  After all, a stirge was just a forest creature and they had entered its home, not the other way around.

He does look all around the forest floor and into the canopy above, to make sure the sounds of the attack as well as the scent of blood is not attracting other, more dangerous denizens.  Then, Petar allows Camille the chance to tend to the wounded dwarf, but he's ready to step in with a small wrapping of bloodstaunch wort if necessary.

Assuming Healing skill will be taken care of by Camille, but if not, Petar will offer

OOC: Give me a Perception check again, please.

Looking around, just in case these woods were a hotspot of anti-adventurer activity.

8 vs 10, margin of success is 2

13:13, Today: Petar the Elf rolled 8 using 1d20.  Perception check, scan around  vs 10.

Aila stepped back, wanting to give plenty of room to those who had the necessary knowledge to attend to Phelan's injury.

"Do you suppose those things like goblin blood as well, or should those be safe from the likes of such?" she asked.  There was a lightness in her tone, a curiosity to be quenched with the knowledge she meant to acquire in her journeys away from cloister.

I didn't know we had, what did he call them, stirges?... here in the forests. I will be need to be careful.

She allowed herself to gather her peace about her, lowering her mace and giving a silent prayer to Chiress, for her protection and goodwill. That could have gone far worse. Looking about her, she spots that Phelan is bleeding, and approaches in quick bounds, even with all the metal on her.

"Let's take a look at this."

She pulls bandages and strings, as well as a small flask that resembles a liquor bottle.

"Here. Drink."

She offers the dwarf one of the several small bottles with fountain water. Then she begins the process of bandaging and cleaning the puncture.

"It went quite deep, about a finger's length. Lucky for you its not serious. But it will need attention."

After all is said and done, Phelan has a brand new shoulder bandage under her armor, and is still in good enough shape to use her arm.

OOC: One bottle of fountain water heals a single hit point, and Camille closes the rest with another 2 points. Overall, a pretty good result.

Petar, after allowing the last stirge to fly off peacefully, examines the surroundings. The foliage is heavy but his keen eyes discover the predatory results of the stirge's appetite under the leaves and party covered with moss and vines: goblin and orc bodies. The remains are desicated and withered. But they have been here long enough to stop smelling, although they appear almost party mumified. There are a few weapons and pieces of armor on them, where they fell after they lost the fight. There is also a crude leather pack, and an odd looking skull.

... covered with moss and vines: goblin and orc bodies ... There is also a crude leather pack, and an odd looking skull.

Once Phelan's injury had been taken care of, Petar points out the remains as well as the pack.  He's not surprised the goblins had trouble with the stirges since the flyers were capable of taking anyone by surprise.  He is a bit surprised to see evidence of orcs ... to the elf this meant an orc party, with slaves.

Deciding that Angus may have the most sage knowledge among them, he asks the wizard if he recognises the weird skull.  "How odd."

During a quiet moment he asks Aila: "I've heard of the Benevolent Brotherhood, friars who master the quartered-staff, but they only accept men into their ranks.  Where did you learn to fight like that?"

Marille wipes the blood off of her sword then makes her way over to Phelan where she claps her shoulder. "Nice muv kullin sturge."

Angus picks it up and looks it over carefully trying to place it in his mind.

"The Order of the Peaceful Willow," replied Aila.  "To be peaceful, must be able to bend and move, but at the same time, must be ready to defend."

"I am in the time of learning," she added, as the discovery rather answered her question about whether the blood of goblins would be as palatable to the stirges as the blood of human, elf, and dwarf.

While Angus examines the skull, Petar notices that the pack is not empty. There is a small collection of items in there:

- small digging tools (spades, heavy brushes, chisels, small mallet, spikes)
- a small, thin book
- a folded piece of parchment
- a writing stencil and a bottle of ink
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:38, Mon 18 May 2020.

"There, you'll be fine. Don't strain the shoulder, or the wound mind reopen."

Camille finishes her ministrations with a bit of advice, but she's happy with the results. This should heal fine in a few days if left calm and given some rest.


She packs her supplies away, but catches sight of the skull. Her face frowns for a bit. As Angus examines it, she approaches for a closer look.

"Necromancy."

"What about necromancy? You detect an evil aura about the skull?" he asks Camille.

Angus examines the skull with fine detail. The skull is elongated along the vertical line, making it tall and narrow. There is a small pair of tiny spiky protrusions at the top, resembling horns. The jaw bone is missing, and the few remaining teeth are pointed. The eye sockets are dark and smooth, as if something had resided in them for a while, making the socket's inner surface smooth to the touch. At the back of the skull are small arcane symbols carved into the bone: a symbol for "guardian" and one for "fire". They are part of a common arcane alphabet used for enchantments by many wizards, although it is not the only one. This alphabet in particular was very old.

Angus might be able to tell more with a "Detect Magic" spell.

In reply to Game Master (msg # 110):

OOC - Angus has Read Magic and Sleep, Detect Magic is not an option ATM. Wizard's Hand, Spark and Flash at 0 level. I'll take Detect next level

Angus puts the skull in his pack.

"No. But look at the bone. It is clean and bleached white. Normal bones decay and yellow, becoming brittle with time. This one is strong and has color. It has been kept strong by ways outside of the natural order."

She takes a moment to think.

"No one's ever seen undead around here. But... "

She takes a few steps away, thinking.

"There was an old legend, a folk tale, from before the founding of Emberdell. It told of a group of settlers that were lost in the hills. Only one survivor returned. He told a story of undead creatures guarding an entrance. They had the misfortune of stumbling into it, and paid the price for their transgression. But it is very old. I am not even sure if I am telling it right. It was something I heard from my father when I was younger."

She takes the skull from Angus' hands examines the skull and invokes the name of Chiress. A bright yellow glow arises around her and her eyes for a moment.

"Yes... evil... of course. There are traces of violence and death here."

She drops the skull to the ground, picks up her mace, and crushes it to bits with one blow.

"We must find where this came from."

Her voice has taken on a new determination.

OOC: This entry has been corrected due to a cross-post.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:35, Mon 18 May 2020.

Hmm... I see we cross-posted. You posted an entry before I finished writing mine.

Not knowing what Camille would do, would Angus have given her the skull to examine as she takes it?

No, Angus would not, he will not allow her to break it, he put it in his pack to be examined later as posted.

Camille a PC, or NPC?

This is before the 'skull incident'

"The Order of the Peaceful Willow," replied Aila.  "To be peaceful, must be able to bend and move, but at the same time, must be ready to defend."

"I like that philosophy," Petar had admitted.  It was one of the main reasons he'd not taken up hunting; while he loved archery and shooting the bow, he didn't want the act of killing to become the whole point.  Try telling that to my father, he thought idly before cheering himself up with a tavern tune.

***

- small digging tools (spades, heavy brushes, chisels, small mallet, spikes)
- a small, thin book
- a folded piece of parchment
- a writing stencil and a bottle of ink

Carefully, Petar picks out the contents so everyone can have a look.  He gently opens the book to see if there is writing and skims a few lines here and there, but doesn't read it yet.  Same for the parchment, perhaps it was a page torn from the book or a different document entirely?  Pen and ink were always handy and he stows it away a pouch.  "Some kind of scholar was here," he concludes.

"Hmmm, stirges are an indiscriminate lot, they'll kill and drain any living creature, Petar should have at least tried to kill the last one."

After the skull incident

"No one's ever seen undead around here. But... "

Missing priestesses and now a suspected undead ... very alarming!  Petar suggests to Camille that Doromas may be able to study the skull with a divination spell or two.

"...But it is very old. I am not even sure if I am telling it right. It was something I heard from my father when I was younger."

Eager for such tales, Petar listens closely.  He has a local rumour to follow up with the locals now!  Settlers lost in the woods!  Not the most original tale, of course ... but .... perhaps if he added some embellishments .. tricky pixies, marauding manticores, some naughty nymphs .. the elf's mind wanders a bit.

***

Before moving on, Petar reports what a quick scan of the book and parchment revealed.  He then suggests they press on, carefully ... orcs and goblins had been here and might be nearby still.

OOC: taking a day to let everyone else get a word in edgewise. =)

Phelan thanks Camille for tending her wound. While she observes the conversation about the skull she tries moving her shoulder. It feels better but still hurts a bit if she moves it too far. It occurs to her that she didn't feel it at all when she used her axe to kill the one on Marille. She is more annoyed by the fact that one got away than she is by the wound.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:00, Tue 19 May 2020.

Marille scratched her head at the scene between the wizard and the mystic. She had no care whatsoever with the skull other than if its an evil artifact. Then they shouldn't keep it, but she understood her role. As such she kept quiet about the situation.

"It would not be wise to keep that thing," Aila said to Angus.  "It does not seem to have done good for those who held it last."

Necromancy, that was something she had learned in her studies, as something to be very strictly avoided.

"Is there anything of interest in that book?" she asked Petar.

Petar's observations are correct. The small book contains a number of log entries, and several torn pages at the beginning. Only the last few remain. The inner lining of the book is covered with several very old bloodstains, brown and faded from time and exposure to the air.

The folded parchment is a crude hand-drawn map showing the area west of Emberdell and dated less than a year ago, during the summer months. There is a dotted line across the map denoting a path. It ends in an X mark, pointing out a finding of some importance among the hills. A single word is scribbled next to it in the western common tongue: "Exidamarall".
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:12, Wed 20 May 2020.

There is a dotted line across the map denoting a path. It ends in an X mark, pointing out a finding of some importance among the hills. A single word is scribbled next to it in the western common tongue: "Exidamarall".

" ... It told of a group of settlers that were lost in the hills. Only one survivor returned. He told a story of undead creatures guarding an entrance ... "

"Exida-strange," Petar mutters as he traces his finger to the 'X' mark.  He closes his eyes to mentally picture the map they'd seen earlier that morning and nods his conclusion: "Yes, we are close to this .. back more to where the beetles were.  Hmm, looks like a fair walk northwest of Emberdell.  I'm no missing priestess and her party of adventurers, but if I were, it would be a strange tale if I didn't end up in this lost settler's cave on the hunt for undeads."

The remains are desicated and withered. But they have been here long enough to stop smelling, although they appear almost party mumified.

The elf gives Angus a poke.  "You know, those withered fellows have perfectly good heads, if you catch my meaning.  Think we should sack them, or is that cheating?" Petars asks with a playful smile.

Question: for Knowledge skills, if you don't have a particular skill can you still make a roll akin to an INT check to learn something about a subject, but at a penalty?  For example, the word Exidamarall

edit: clearing up map confusion!
This message was last edited by the player at 16:49, Wed 20 May 2020.

"Sack them! They have been eliminated."

Of course. Although the penalty is stiff if the knowledge would be something that even a "trained" character might have a hard time knowing.

"Shall we get some fresh heads so there is no complaint?"

"You charlatan!" Petar chides him with a grin.  "I was only joking!  Yes, fresh heads only, those will be grisly enough, thank you."

But the elf is only paying half attention to his chitchats with the amiable wizard, as he's trying to remember where he'd heard that word Exidamarall before.  Maybe nowhere, maybe somewhere ..

INT check, why not :)

Result: 19 vs 17, nope!

09:47, Today: Petar the Elf rolled 19 using 1d20.  Petar int check, Exidamarall.

OOC: Nope. Not with a 19 out of 17. =)

Petar's recollections don't carry him anywhere remotely near the word "Exidamarall". It must be something very old, or very local, for it has not been recorded in the books he perused while studying.

Perhaps a more local scholar might be of greater use?

Angus throws the heads from the orcs and goblins in a bag, "We would have killed them if the stirges hadn't."

13:56, Today: Black Angus rolled 3 using 1d20-2.  intelligence check. to know about the word Petar is worried over.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:58, Wed 20 May 2020.

"It does not matter," said Aila, looking at Angus' antics rather unhappily.  "We did not, and these were dead long before we left the town.  There could be no honor in presenting those."

"So tell them we found the desiccated ones dead already, just to hang on the wall after all. I did not say to cheat or lie. They wanted heads, what if we find no others?"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:52, Wed 20 May 2020.

Looking to compromise, Petar nods along.  "We can say we found them and make no demand no bounty, instead it's proof to all that humanoids lurk close to the farmsteads of the town .. in case any were doubtful."

Angus' memory steers him towards a footnote of an entry he once read years ago about politics in the realm. Exidamarall was used as the name of a small cult of necromancers following Oblan, the god of deceit. It was a small entry in a list of noteworthy events maybe two hundred years ago?
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:39, Wed 20 May 2020.

OOC: Where to, fellas? Continue the hunt? Go in another direction?

Phelan interjects: "There is only one way to find out what that word means. Let's follow that map and see where it leads.No doubt we will find some fresh heads along the way."

"Exidamarall was the name of a small cult of necromancers following Oblan, the god of deceit Petar."

"... Let's follow that map and see where it leads.No doubt we will find some fresh heads along the way."

"That means we backtrack to town and then strike out north.  That would be possible but also very dangerous," Petar says, a little more solemnly than usual.  "North and west, that's where the orcs and ogres are."

Emphasis ogre.

"I would like to read that book, that will take some time at camp.  Then we can investigate the skull runes and research things properly with Doromas?" he added, with a look to Camille.  Petar was keenly aware she was worried about her sister and any talk of delays might be difficult.

To Angus: "Aha, I knew you'd know!  Ugh, necromancy, I don't know any of those spells and the whole idea of the darker ones gives me the creeps."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:03, Thu 21 May 2020.

"I know no spells from that school either, I just remember reading about them in a book once. I say we move forward looking for the goblins."

Marille looked on impassive until talk of not doing their task. "How buut we kull goblun. Then un way back we go search for map thingy."

"I agree with Marille, I need gold! March on into the woods, we have a ranger don't we?"

Ranger?  Where!  Petar scans the area where some of the less-honourable types (Aila's words, not his!) were bagging heads.  Perhaps there is some kind of trail leading off.  Of course, it has been so long that the passage of time and weather will have reduced any tracks to nothing but, as they saying went, if you didn't look you would never find!

Camille didn't like that Angus put the skull back into his bag. It was not exactly harmless... well, actually, it was fully inert, but it could still be reused by anyone who knew how... but the body was missing... nah, she let it be. It might prove useful later to learn what it was meant to do... or what it was meant to guard.

"Yes, let's keep looking for goblins. We are more likely to find those than old weather skeletons... I think..."

"Agreed, let's continue with what we set out to do today," said Aila.  "It would no doubt require special preparations which we haven't made to go to a fight in a place of foul necromancy."

"I don't care where we go as long as we don't wait around here for those overgrown mosquitos to return." Phelan's mood has obviously been soured by the encounter with the stirges.

"Lead on into the woods Petar! I'm right behind you. You're an elf."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:01, Fri 22 May 2020.

Orienting a bit south, Petar suggests that direction.

One hex due south, back to march order.  I'm guessing we will be running into mid afternoon with a 6pm or so sunset as its spring?  Lots of daylight left

Angus falls back in line.

Yes, the day is getting longer. It is now going into a later afternoon, perhaps hitting twilight closer to 7 than 6, if we had clocks.

South it is.

With five old new dead heads in the sack, the party moves ahead through the woods. After having been stung once by the flock of stirges, there is an uneasy alert among everyone, but it passes as the party makes their way through these woods. Still, your eyes do wander upwards to the canopies frequently.

The deeper you forage among the trees, the denser the undergrowth seems to become. You find yourselves needing to move around large foliage where you are unable to cut it down to pass. This makes the trek laborious, with many small turns and curves around obstacles in order to move onward.

After almost two hours, you again hear shrieks in the distance, although this time they are not stirges. It is the sound of battle. Small rough voices are shouting and barking things, accompanied by the loud roar of what might be a bear. It is only a few moments away, to your south-east.

A small deer and a doe bound into open view before you, stop, stare in surprise, then bound away past you through the brush just as fast as they appeared.

Phelan turns her head and strains to see if she can  make out any of the voices ore at least what language they are speaking.

"See if you can see." Angus whispers to the folks up front.

Marille grasped her sword from over her shoulder and got in a squat position ready to attack. She didn't want to allow her dwarven mate to take anymore punishment. She glanced in the direction of the noise."Be ready."

Small rough voices are shouting and barking things, accompanied by the loud roar of what might be a bear. It is only a few moments away, to your south-east.

One thing Petar had learned at an early age was language arts, and elves of course were magical beings and part of that magic was an almost effortless ability to pick up new words.  He didn't really bother to listen, just to verify if the 'small rough voices' were goblins.

Is it goblin speech?

While the others tense and prepare for trouble, Petar deftly strings his bow and knocks and arrow while keeping behind cover.  "Let's stay hidden and let the bear do some of the work for us," he whispers to the others in case they were thinking of just charging in there.

OOC: Ok, I think I've set the Language groups correctly. Let's see if this works.

Amidst the angry roars and growls, you hear the chittering voices almost screaming at each other,

[Language unknown: Unpran! Ouosun! The not es iveoveave fo een wh. In moday no!

Ac weil reill, as armeur se omma m!

Me, we om e poch poho tiwh hishouure. Din trwer heekmi!]

Then a lower set of guttural voices joins in.

[Language unknown: Hoioio wa nceureard! Ec o thiri! Eeac, nte! Icadinndeica, onethaear thu ivmopl ble!]

"Orcs and goblins," Petar whispers, concentrating.  "The goblin slaves are fighting a beast, the orcs command them."

"We should watch but stay hidden," Petar adds, with a glance to Aila the Scout.

Aila shook her head in a bit of frustration as she gripped the staff, her hands sliding in preparation for using it more as weapon than walking stick.  "Do you want me to try to see more?" she whispered to Petar.

---

Looks correct to me.

The elf's nod is clear, the look in eyes is also intent: be careful ...

Aila nodded back to Petar, leaning her staff against a nearby tree.  Finger over her lips, she looked back at the others to indicate her intentions, and deciding that the cover of the woods was enough that she did not need to make a deliberately obscure path, started edging toward the sounds, although fully intending to stop as soon as the vegetation betwixt herself and the sounds thinned, stepping lightly as she went, taking heed to move as breezes and voices rose to give herself the best possible cover.

---

*sigh*  neither one worked ...

18:40, Today: Aila rolled 59 move silent v 35.

18:39, Today: Aila rolled 43 hide v 25.

OOC: If Aila is approaching, give me a Hide in Shadows roll with +10% bonus for the forest's cover. Move Silent won't be needed - the fight is loud enough to mask any extra noise you might make.

Camille lowered herself into a crouch immediately. She put her hands on the loose pieces of plate on her armor, silencing them by preventing them from sliding on each other.

"If I get closer they'll know right away. This," she points to her armored suit, "is not exactly subtle."

She watches ahead, trying to peer through the undergrowth from her vantage point. But it's all ferns and fronds and shrubs.

Her eyes follow Aila as she suggests going on ahead as a scout.

Oy, need to quit when I'm behind ...

Aila approaches the source of all the noise. She pushes carefully through the plants until she finds a vantage point that is close enough to actually see anything, and that she believes will still keep her hidden.

Between all the foliage and bushes is a chaotic meelee. Maybe two dozen figures here, goblins, orcs, and what appear to be rats the size of large barrels are fighting with an enraged brown bear of massive proportions. The bear is standing on it hind legs attempting to intimidate the goblins, while several large rats attempt to bite at it from behind. A few orcs stand behind the goblins, three to be exact, calling orders and directing the fight. The goblins don't seem to want anything to do with the bear, but several brave ones are keeping their discipline with long spears, trying to not be picked as a target while the rats tear at the bear's back. The rats, while being vermin, should not usually want to do this, but the leather collars around their necks give you the impression that they're pets or have had some sort of training.

Aila silently witnesses the bear maul two goblins in quick succession, its enormous paws splintering their crude little spears while the claws tear through the frail bodies like they were little rag dolls. At the same time, maybe a dozen arrows fly at it, with about two thirds of them failing to pierce the hide or make contact.

[Language unknown: "Enlarodi! Red comreswhi pa ad on!"]

[Language unknown: "Wasproeen le verhasbut! Ad et eveio of meisom."]

Two of the orcs approach, shields and axes at the ready, coming up behind the goblin line. The bear turns as the rats bite into its hind legs, giving the goblins and the orcs a clean opening to its unprotected flank.

That's when Aila discovers her hiding spot was not so hidden after all. The orc lead spots her.

[Language unknown: "Nael! Maart olpawhpe!"]

He turns to address the goblins behind him.

[Language unknown: "Ore ineve! Cethil o ss adheonwh... ouilwa!"]

He points in Aila's direction.

[Language unknown: "Wharri ac o u!"]

The goblins charge at Aila eargerly, welcoming any opportunity to avoid the fight with the massive bear.

OOC: Combat has started. The goblins will need one round to approach Aila. Aila is two rounds away from everyone else. Everyone will either have to move ahead or she will have to move away if you want to regroup. Either way, it is a two round distance between Aila and anyone else in the group right now.

Game On!
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:22, Sat 23 May 2020.

OOC: Oh, yes. Initiative. It falls to the party at the moment. The opponents have had their move, and clearly no one is surprised.

"Hurry!" called Aila back to her companions, the whole point of subterfuge being lost as she started moving back toward the others--she was not quite brave foolhardy enough to stand the line all alone.

"She's been spotted!" Petar announces, letting everyone know.  "Let them come to us, I can use an enchantment on some but they have to be killed before they awaken."

"We cun not wuit.. she wull be un cught!" Marille sword brandished made her girth move faster than possible as she strode to help her comrade. Her size made it difficult to move through the dense forest.

OOC: Marille Ughari init rolled 4 using 1d6 ((4)).
Today: Marille Ughari rolled 8 using 1d20+2.  attack goblins.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:44, Sat 23 May 2020.

Phelan, axe in hand, runs forward to attack the orcs that are persuing Aila and Marille.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:04, Sat 23 May 2020.

Angus readies his 'sleep' spell for the enemies.

"Don't worry, Aila is too fast for them ..." the words trail off as the others bundle forwards.  Oh well, time to get some fresh heads!

Petar pushes forward too, he needed to see what was going on.  He hears Angus begin some arcane preparations, ready to unleash an enchantment with a single word and knows he had better get ready too.

Ziiiip!  One arrow flies true .. into a tree trunk, and Petar snarls unhappily, a curse fit for the finer back-alleys of Blackrock.

R1 actions: Not running, so one move forward (4 squares directly south) and shoot at a goblin
Results: 5 to hit, presumed miss, 19 arrows left

06:48, Today: Petar the Elf rolled 3,4 using d20,d6.  R1: The Bear and the Aila Fair, Petar bow vs goblin.

edit: updated to reflect the map reality
This message was last edited by the player at 15:27, Sun 24 May 2020.

OOC: Petar, you are still out of visual range for the goblins. Save the arrows.

I am hoping this will clarify things a bit more.

- 5' per square
- Movement by D&D 3.x standard: diagonals alternate between 5' and 10'
- You have line of sight between 30' to 40', depending on terrain

http://3edb.com/maps/emberdell/encounter_02_t1.jpg

Angus: you have not taken an action on this round yet.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:58, Sun 24 May 2020.

After he readies his spell, Angus moves forward with the others to take out the goblins and orcs.

Round 2

Goblins, Orcs, Rats, Ursines

As Aila rushes to make as much distance between the goblins and herself, she can hear the small feet and the chittering voices right behind her.

[Language unknown: "Ee ilmaul anishe! Ller ro ti era al is astom sanek!"]

The four goblins dispatched to fetch the "intruder" cover the terrain to the best of their ability. Still, goblins are not known for their stature, and their legs carry them only a short distance.

Further away, the bear appears very displeased. Surrounded and injured, it is now on a full rampage. It attacks the rats indiscriminately, lashing out in all directions. The rats, however, being minded by the goblins, are pulled to safety before they are too committed. But the bear manages to get one in its maw, tearing it apart in a single bite and throwing the lifeless rat to the side without a single concern. The goblin behind it stumbles backwards and falls down, backing away at the unabashed bloodshed before it.

The two orcs approaching from behind take advantage of the rat's distractions, and swing their axes into the bear's back. One lands a solid blow tearing into sinew and fat, the second one cuts a glancing blow, tearing shallowly into the hide and flesh. The bear roars its pain and frustration, being unable to avoid the rain of blows that are landing on it.

The goblins surrounding the creature ready their swords and bows, and fire another volley of arrows from the safety of distance. Just shy over a third of the arrows have any effect on the bear, but with the blows it had already suffered, and the axe strikes that cut at it just now, the last arrows pierce through its hide and finally overcome the creature's survival instincts. The bear collapses to the ground in a heavy pile, arrow shafts sticking out of its hide in all directions.

[Language unknown: "Ro, ichioueen ev anear sibees."]

The orcs laugh a laughter that sounds more like animalistic growls, and the goblins cheer their celebration in screeches and howls, glad for their unlikely survival through yet another fight. A few approach the bear and stick it with their spears one more time, as if wanting to reassure themselves of their own bravery and contribution to the fight.

[Language unknown: "Venti, ecchnd u sswhe aice'ivas?"]

---

OOC: I will update the map with new positions for the orcs, goblins, and rats when I get home tonight.

OOC: Updated map. Not much has changed, really. You guys are closer, and the four "fetchers" are closer. The others don't yet know what's going on.

http://3edb.com/maps/emberdell/encounter_02_t2.jpg

OOC: Are the casters in range?

The bulky warrior arms pumping sees the scout coming in her direction and moves to where she can guard the scouts retreat. Sword in a high position Marille was ready to mow in goblin that came for her comrade.

Aila curved to put the larger tree between herself and her pursuers as she continued to try to retreat to where the others were.

We can see about 6 to 8 squares around us I think

There was a lot of screaming going on and nothing sounded good.  "There are a lot of them, don't rush in there!" Petar tries to warn them, his voice raising a little shrilly.

Everywhere you looked there was a tree and a bush, and now the green shrubbery all looked like goblins!

Moving 4 squares south, no targets yet

Angus carefully advanced to where they were, once he had them in his sight, he would cast sleep to get rid of as many as possible.

OOC: Because there is no detail as to how, or in what order, things are affected by the Sleep spell, other than a total number of hit dice, I will allow direction of the spell to the caster. This means you can throw the sleep effect into a melee, and select which targets in the area will be hit until the hit dice allocation runs out. This is highly favorable to the party, but also highly favorable to anyone who might want to put YOU to sleep.

The casters do not have a line of sight through all the foliage here. That's really the main issue.

Aila's training, combined with her unburneded travelling load, assured that she would be able to outrun the goblins with ease. In a manner of moments she crossed paths with the team's vanguard, Marille first, followed by Phelan, then Camille and Petar, the last two in heavy armor.

Petar and Camille's loud heavy armor announced their presence for a good distance among the trees. If there was a goblin that hadn't realized the scouts were here, they certainly knew now that this was the case.

OOC:
A few details to resolve first. At this present juncture, the three south-most characters can see the four north-most goblins. Everyone else is too far away right now.

- Phelan: I assumed that you would want to approach closer at max speed, so I moved your character in a straight line down the map. Please correct me if I am mistaken.

- Angus: you have some targets. Are you sure you wish to cast your Sleep spell at these four?

Your round isn't done until these two questions are complete.

Updated Map:
http://3edb.com/maps/emberdell/encounter_02_t2_a.jpg

Minor point--Aila isn't going to keep retreating past Marille.

OOC: No problem. Remember that Aila moved first, then Marille moved after her. Aila didn't know what Marille would do before she moved.

Once Aila is passed, Phelan alters her course slightly and continues running to reach Marille's side in order to protect her flank. She continues running along side Marille, axe at the ready hoping to use her momentum to deal a more punishing blow to the first goblin she reaches.

Again, to be  clear, Aila does **NOT** retreat as far as shown.  My post had her arcing behind tree to her right (left of map).  she is not going any further back than that.

Ok.

Take a look at the first 2nd round post. That's where Aila started. Can you give me a square count and directions so I can understand where you are aiming to move?

This message was deleted by the player at 16:02, Thu 28 May 2020.

up 2, left 4, moving so that the tree trunk is between her and goblins

I see. Yup, I put you far from there. Thanks for the clarification.

It would probably be very useful to do this movement count when you have very specific locations in mind. Let's do this from now on.

Alright, I have updated the last map to put Aila in that position. Please confirm this is where you were aiming for.

And... Phelan, for the sake of precision, I can move your token closer to Marille, but then it will be moving diagonally, meaning it will end up about ten feet behind her.

Or you can give me a square and direction count to let me know exactly where you'd like to be.

The first 2nd round map is on post 173.

Thank you!

The edited/updated/corrected end-of-round map for the 2nd turn is on post 180. This is where we are coming to an agreement as to where everyone will be at the end of the party's 2nd round.

Since this is crucial positioning before a fight, I think it's putting some people on edge. =)

Guilty!  Yes, that does look more like my intent.

OOC: Waiting on Phelan's final comments on her movement. I'll post in the morning if I don't hear anything.

In reply to Game Master (msg # 190):

OCC: no, that would be fine. Phelan wants to catch up with Marille.

OOC: Fantastic. I shall leave your token where it is, then.

I will post the regular entry, but will have an updated map at some point this evening or tomorrow morning. I am currently at work, and my mapping tools are not available to me here.

The element of surprise, or however much of it the rest of the party enjoyed, was now exhausted. With the approach of the heavily armored elf and cleric it was evident the goblins and orcs were not alone.

Angus, already prepared for this situation, finishes the incantations to his spell. A small yellow spark of light bursts forth from his pointed fingers, and in the blink of an eye crosses the distance only to explode into a fading flush of yellow in the area. The four goblins instantly go slack and fall rather unceremoniously to the ground, their running inertia carrying them a few feet further before coming to a hard stop. Despite the rough landing, they appear to be sound asleep.

12:26, Today: Game Master rolled 9 using 2d8.  Sleep Hit Dice.

Round 3

Realizing he just heard the incantations of a spell, the lead orc barks orders and organizes a response.

[Language unknown: "Ivmo? Osssut! Roheouel, tedhisast ce iouoneoun!"]

Buoyed by their victory against the bear, the remaining goblins turn their attention to the source of the sounds. They load their bows, bring their blades and spears to the ready, and begin to move gingerly ahead. The rats are prodded forward, to catch up with everyone else, but can go no faster than the speed of their masters, the slow-moving goblins.

The remaining orcs gather and observe from behind the goblin line.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:37, Fri 29 May 2020.

And here's the map. Goblins are slow, they are small.

I hope the little "zzz" are visible on the tokens. They are rather small.

http://3edb.com/maps/emberdell/encounter_02_t3.jpg

The zzz tokens work!

Still unable to see anything, Petar advanced carefully.  He was akin to a human teenager, unblooded in the eternal struggles of the world and wholly naive about a great many things .. including the bloodshed that was about to occur.

Moving past Camille, he said solemnly, "You have to stay safe, stay behind me ... please, I, ehm, Emberdell can't lose you!"

Move another 4 squares due south.  Visibility of 6-8 squares means no targets

"Get as many in your sleep spell as you can, then kill them while they sleep!"

Angus moves forward a little, dagger in hand to cut the throats of the goblins and orcs! (forward 3 squares)
This message was last edited by the player at 15:16, Sat 30 May 2020.

Aila peered around her tree and then started on the advance again--still wanting to keep trees as cover but she needed to see whether more than the four were approaching.

---

Diagonal down to the left 4

OOC: Waiting on Marille and Phelan

Marille nodded her agreement to the human mages assumption to dispatch the goblins. " me wull" Marille moved lowly in the brush to stabb the nearest to her position.

OOC: move three squares down

Phelan, not content to wait for the next foe, slings her axe on her back and takes out her cross bow loading a bolt. "It's the ones that aren't asleep that we have to worry about." As soon as she has a clear line of sight she will take the shot.

Angus slashes the throat of the nearest down goblin, he stands ready to meet the onslaught.

Petar advances. It is the only thing he can do right now, since he can't see his opponents, only hear them. And they are close. Perhaps closer than he realizes. As he keeps pace just behind Camille, he solemly calls out,

"You have to stay safe, stay behind me ... please, I, ehm, Emberdell can't lose you!"

Camille, undaunted by the foliage and determined to get into the fray, she only pushes ahead, replying,

"I am sworn to defend Emberdell. To remain behind would dishonor my oath."

If she heard the meaning behind Petar's words, she does not give any indication on it. She charges ahead, keeping her slight lead before Petar.

Amidst the running and the talking, one sly wizard crosses the distance, dagger in hand. He moves to just within range of the sleeping goblin, and bloodies his knife, taking the goblin's life. He comes to realize that there are several more goblins ahead of him, in the foliage, that just came into view. They look at him with disgust in their eyes. This may be a precarious position for him.


Aila, moving carefully, attempts to flank whatever other forces are approaching them by circling to the east. She almost makes it to the cover of the trees, but this position does not reveal anything more to her.

"Me wull", Marille asserts, moving cautiously ahead, blade in hand. While courageous and strong, the mighty warrior understood the risks. As she approaches, more goblins came into sight. She was now in the lead of the group.

Phelan, assessing the opportunity of the enemy's movements, puts away her axe and loads her crossbow. Now, bolt at the ready, she takes careful aim at the brush ahead of her, waiting for the first sign of a goblin head to show itself.


Round 4

The front-most goblins spot the vanguard of the party: Angus and Marille. They chitter and hiss at their new enemies, arrows at the ready. Not wanting to get any closer, they stop in their tracks, aim, and fire their small bows.

Three crooked arrows with flint heads head at Marille, all coming close, but not one finding its mark.

The last arrow is aimed at Angus, but the goblin's markmanship is so poor, it flies too high, over Angus, then Camille's, head, only to disappear into the forest behind them.

The rest of the goblins advance in a front, revealing themselves to the party and taking aim as well. The lead goblins shout exitedly,

[Language unknown: "Stanotyin! Ivatenri! Riugh om! Amemo adkor at loholi trawheich!"]

It is slowly becoming clear that this force of goblins may be very large. More voices approach behind this new line of archers. A few goblins carry spears and swords. They cross the archer line and get even closer to the party.

Aila, Angus, and Marille can only stare and watch as the foliage reveals even more goblins coming into view. They carry bows and more bows. Perhaps this was a hunting party? Be that as it may, the archers in range now take aim and fire. Once again Marille is the subject of concentrated fire, as she is the only visible one with a sword and armor. And yet, most arrows fail to find their mark, missing by such large margins that Marille wonders if they are actually trying to hit her. The same again happens for Angus, as the lone archer who chose to fire in his direction comes up too short, the arrow driving itself into the ground before him.

A large imposing leather-armored orc with a curved sword steps out of the greenery, observing and assessing the movement of the goblins like a seasoned tactician. He meets Aila's gaze with his own, and his eyes narrow. Pointing his sword in her direction, he calls out,

[Language unknown: "Din! Ekoffisi unvor nous Es ur eetic ioers."]

---

http://3edb.com/maps/emberdell/encounter_02_t4.jpg

OOC: Having the mage and the leather armor fighter be the front line might not be such a good idea, team. But fortunately, the dice roller has been rolling very low for their attacks. Abysmally so.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:27, Tue 02 June 2020.

Aila held her ground, only to call to her companions, "There are more orcs than one," as she hoped there was another sleep spell--and that that one wouldn't be wasted.

Then, looking at the orc who had just pointed her out, Aila met his gaze with one of contempt, and she took one hand into a forceful chin flick forward toward the orc and then brought the hand back level before herself and mock-bit her hand, never breaking eye contact.  It might, perhaps, not be completely a wise idea to indicate to the orc that she believed him to be a worthless coward unable to fight without help--and knowing that, she brought her hands into their resting "low ready" position as she began to hum.

The warrior looked on with apprehension, but her way wasn't to tuck tale and run. The odds looked against them as she could only guess how many were behind the goblins that were asleep. She knew the wizard couldn't hold up against the onslaught, but she would do her best.

Her feet spaced shoulder width, Marille chopped down with a high arcing swing.

OOC: 02:04, Today: Marille Ughari rolled 7 using 1d8+2.  damage goblin.

02:03, Today: Marille Ughari rolled 18 using 1d20+2.  Marille vs Goblin.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:06, Tue 02 June 2020.

Angus backs up hoping another sleep spell gets cast by someone!

Moving up as quickly as his gear allowed, Petar was sure he had the words of the spell ready.  As far as magic went, the sleep spell was a favourite one taught to many youngsters - it didn't kill like a fireball but still allowed you to save yourself from an angry bear or pack of wolves.

Or pack of goblins.  The elf's eyes widen as he sees how many there are.  They have bows!  I knew it!

Hoping to silence the orcs and thus encourage the goblins to flee their masters, Petar sings the three lynchpin words that cause the spell to erupt.  A silver cloud of motes dance over the forest for a moment, then the elf is heard yelling in some terrible language.


Actions

Move 4 squares
Cast Sleep, as per the rules, DM rolls the HD.  Targeting the spell's AoE center at the edge of my character's vision, so 8 squares down and affecting orcs first, then closest goblins with bows.  With a 240' range and a 40' square AoE, almost all enemies are possible targets.  Lacking a grid or any way to differentiate the monsters easily, I'll trust the DM to make sensible picks :)

Combat stuff: Bow out, so no shield right now = AC 1.  20 arrows, full hps, spell cast

This message was last edited by the player at 16:33, Tue 02 June 2020.

OOC: Waiting on Phelan, and then I'll post for Camille.

In reply to Game Master (msg # 212):

OCC: not sure what Phelan can see at the moment. If she sees one of the foe, she will shoot with her crossbow.

Phelan does not have any targets at the moment. She can...

1. Wait for them to approach.
2. Get closer and find a target.
3. Something else altogether...?

Crossbow ready but still seeing no one to shoot, Phelan continues to move toward Marille to protect her flank.

Camille's heavy armor was not meant for this sort of use. Flat ground and open fields was the right place, but forests and greens everywhere? No, not so much. She pushed onward despite the uneven ground, and found a place right between Angus and Marille.

That's when she got into view of all the goblins forces the party was facing. She took a deep breath as she saw the number of enemies ahead of her. With as much resolve as she could muster, she called out in Western Common,

"By Chiress, you are not welcome here. We WILL defend ourselves!"

She drew into a fighting stance, shield ahead of her, mace raised high ready to strike.

Aila's challenge was gesturally "colorful" but apparently a bit lost on the orc, who stared back in a quizzical expression, but the meaning came through anyway: it was an insult, even if the finer nuances were not immediately recognized. The orc glared back at Aila, baring his massive teeth and an impressive set of canines with a grin that told only too clearly that he was looking forward to getting "up close and personal" with her.

Recognizing the odds looked against them did nothing to diminish Marille's courage. If anything, it would probably mean a longer fight through more goblin bodies, and a well deserved rest after an exhausting day. Taking a few steps to cover the distance, Marille took a cautious stance against the closest goblin in the fight, and after a few probing swings landed a solid slash on the side, opening a deep gash. The blow was strong enough to almost lift the goblin off its feet and knock it to the ground. It cried out in pain and passed out from the injury. Marille had seen many cuts in her life, and the goblin would be not waking up from this one. (Hit! Good Damage! Goblin is out of the fight!)

OOC: Marille, I made an assumption here. Since the sleeping Goblin is not posing any threat right now, I directed the attack you posted to the closest goblin, the one with the spear just below and to the right of your position. Please correct me if I am wrong.

Angus, bloody knife in hand, understands the danger in his position. He watches Marille step ahead, attempting to give him cover and draw attacks away from him. He stands and backs to Phelan's position, about 20 feet away. There he waits.

Towards the back, Petar, continues his inexorable approach to the fighting line.

[Language unknown: "ICHECTLARESTANY! Hehou venectill und tiopo uranun ta onsom nde u m ntewashou!"]

He finished the incantations to the elven spell, and a silver cloud of motes danced over the forest, covering the area ahead of him in a large field of lights and sparks. While he was able to see his target collapse to the ground, he was not able to witness the complete extent of the effects of his spell. He could only hear the sound of metal and heavy objects hitting the ground.

Aila, from her vantage point, watches the orc before her waver and fall, all fight simply having left him at that moment.

Marille watches several of the goblins closer to her just fall over, weapons still in hand. The silver motes seem to have had a bad effect on them.

Phelan, not presently having a target, strikes ahead through the trees. She comes upon several goblin bodies on the ground, some dead, some merely passed out. Looking ahead, she also sees more goblins, and several orcs, all laying on the ground and apparently not ready to fight. The only visible targets ahead of her that are worth of a good bolt into the gut are a rat the size of a barrel with a collar and leash on it, which is now dragging along the ground. And several goblins to her left flank, just at the edge of what she was able to see. The rat spots Phelan and squeaks loudly, baring teeth threateningly but not backing away.

OOC: Any specific target? You may roll an attack from here.

Camille finally crosses the ground, calling out a challenge and striking a defensive stance.

OOC: As usual, I will have a chance to update the map tonight, once I get home. Phelan has a chance to attack, and Aila, who was holding, may still take an action.

Aila pulled at the "tree of life" pinning up her hair as she moved toward the now-downed orc that she had just insulted.  Her hair fell as the coils began to unwind, though she gave that little heed as she took the dagger she had now revealed to drive it at an angle toward the top rear of the orc's skull through his right eye.

OOC: Here's the map as of Aila's forward rush for a kill. I am waiting for Phelan to pick a target and attack, assuming that's what she wants to do.

Map For: Round 4, A

Her blood boiling as she dealt a vicious wound to the goblin. Marille spotted a goblin to her side that could flank the group. The thought of slaughter in her mind she went for the goblin at the side with pure deadly intent.

Marille moves four squares to her left
OOC: 00:54, Today: Marille Ughari rolled 7 using 1d8+2.  if dmg.

00:53, Today: Marille Ughari rolled 10 using 1d20+2.  attack goblin adjacent.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:55, Fri 05 June 2020.

Angus moves ahead killing sleeping orcs and goblins, heads would come when the killing was done!

Although she was hoping to get an orc in her sights first, Phelan decides to take care of the immediate threat first. She aims for the rat and fires. "Disgusting creatures." she says as the bolt takes flight.

08:48, Today: Phelan rolled 14 using 1d20+2 ((12)).

08:50, Today: Phelan rolled 6 using 1d6 ((6)). for damage

Phelan aims and fires. The bolt hits the rat squarely, forcing a painful cry from it. It tries to turn and run, but passes out almost immediately from the injury. (Hit! More than enough damage. Rat is out of the fight.)

OOC: Ok, I have a few premature declarations. Let's see what comes out of it.

Round 5

At the sight of so many of their tribesmen falling, and without further "encouragement" from the orc warriors, the remaining goblins lose courage and turn to run. They are still small, so they don't get very far, but they do, at the very least, manage to get out of sight of most of you. Marille, who was aiming to strike at the possibly flanking goblin, watches her quarry turn and bolt in fear.

And as fast as it started this fight seemed to be over. The party is now surrounded by a large group of sleeping orcs and goblins, who will remain in their slumber probably for an hour, if not longer.

You also remember that somewhere nearby is a bear.

After the stark panic of feeling outnumbered by so many goblins, the release of tension is a welcome moment. The forest remains cool and dim, but it is now quieter.

OOC: This fight is just about done, unless you choose to pursue. The only party member who can see anyone at the moment is Marille, and that little goblin (top right most) is almost out of sight range. To everyone else, the goblins just vanished into the green, although you can hear them running as fast as their little legs will carry them.

Map for Round 5
This message was last updated by the GM at 04:39, Sat 06 June 2020.

Camille stood quietly and watched as the goblins fell on the ground, surprised at the fact that there wasn't going to be a fight after all.

"Petar. Elven magic? Chiress would be very pleased."

She turned to smile at the elf. There were still some goblins around, but it didn't sound like they had any fight left in them. Still, one could not be too cautious when it came to goblins, so she kept her sense on alert, and her weapon on hand.

"Take their heads and feed the bear!"  Angus says as he resumed cutting throats and taking heads.

"They were hunting the bear," said Aila, as she moved to repeat the stab through eye into skull technique on the next nearest orc.  "I don't know if they managed to kill it yet, or if it's wounded."  A wounded bear, she knew, was extremely dangerous, and she listened for sounds of something that might sound like a wounded bear thrashing about rather than goblins fleeing for their lives.

Angus decided to try Alia's method and started stabbing them through the right eye into the brain!

From one to the next, being mindful of the bear.

"Cuwards!" The sounds of frustration clear in her voice. But at the mention of the bear Marille thought of dispatching the worthy combatant. But she looked down at the sleeping goblins and orcs and remembered the fee for heads. With a grim smile Marille looked near her and grasped the first goblin and thrust her sword through its throat.

And as fast as it started this fight seemed to be over. The party is now surrounded by a large group of sleeping orcs and goblins, who will remain in their slumber probably for an hour, if not longer.

Aiming carefully at the goblins, Petar had no time to shoot before they fled.  As expected, the loss of their slave masters meant they now knew freedom and the elf hoped these particular ones never came back near Emberdell.

"Petar. Elven magic? Chiress would be very pleased."

"Yes, magic," Petar replies, a little dully, voice dry from watching the carnage.  They were not here for prisoners or warnings, it was true.  And none of the sleepers looked like children, still ... he had to look away a few times.

"My magic teacher was a man, I don't know any elf secrets," Petar admits to Camille, his voice finally recovering after a long drink from his canteen.

After dispatching the goblins and orcs, Angus goes back and cuts their heads off one after the other, bagging them in a large sack until it was full then he took their ears as proof.

Ever watchful for the bear!

After the grisly work is done, he looks to the others, "Shall we go collect our first pay and be hailed as conquering heroes? Sorry we haven't found you sister yet Camille, we'll look more tomorrow."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:43, Sat 06 June 2020.

The party manages to kill every sleeping goblin and orc. It is a bloody affair, perhaps leaving some distaste in a few of the party members.

Exploring the battle ground, you find the freshly killed body of the bear, with a dozen arrows on its body and several more severe cuts on its midsection. If properly prepared, it might make good dinner.

The last carcass is of the very large rat. Its size does not give it any improvements: it is hairy, toothy rodent, with a three foot long tail, reeking of wet, bloody fur.

Cutting the heads off of the bodies takes a significant amount of time, as you need a big axe and some strong blows to sever spines and cut through sinew. But at the end, you have several sacks soaked in blood, filled with heads.

Overall, not a bad haul: three orcs and fifteen goblins.

It is now somewhere after mid-afternoon. You are perhaps two hours away from Emberdell, and maybe two or three hours away from twilight.

OOC: What do you wish to do?

Camille watched as Angus eagerly cut the throats of the goblins. He seemed to be enjoying it. She was not encouraged by the victory, but somewhat put off by the easy killing. It was like a butchery to her. She understood the concept of a fair fight, and the respect given to an enemy in mortal battle. But it was still better than the alternative, and it was still very much a "us vs them" situation.

She turned and walked away shortly after it started, making an excuse to look for the mule in the direction they came from.

At his commentary about his sister, she only nodded and added,

"Yes, tomorrow is another day. I am sure we'll have better luck then."

She handed the reins of the mule back to Angus, then sat down on the cold soil and took a drink from her water skin.

"Any one hurt? Does any one need healing?"

"I am as well as expected," said Aila, taking a small drink and using a cloth to wipe her hands and the blade of her hair dagger.  She walked back, looking for the place where she had left her walking stick, and then reached into her pack to pull out a clean hair dagger--this one featured a unicorn, and she coiled her hair back up and pinned it in place with the dagger.

"We should head back, then," she said, "I don't think we're in a good place to camp overnight."  She looked to the other faces to see if there were agreement or disagreement.

Marille born in a remote hamlet was accustomed to the butcher work she laid into as she used her msucles to gather the heads with Angus. Her arms were covered in blood up to her elbows and the smell of the goblins finally assailed her nose as her adrenaline wain. "Yes we shuld retuun. Gublinkun bluud stunk te huug heavun." Marille tried to wipe the sweat from eyes, but wiped blood on her forehead.

In reply to Marille Ughari (msg # 235):

"Yes, lets head back because the stench will draw the bear and the wolves. between the smell of the blood and the stench of them pissing and shitting themselves when they die, we need to move on."

Exploring the battle ground, you find the freshly killed body of the bear, with a dozen arrows on its body and several more severe cuts on its midsection. If properly prepared, it might make good dinner.

Petar is on guard for more of the warband to return.  Or was it a hunting party?  Eyeing the dead bear, which he gives a wide berth, he wonders at goblin life and day-to-day existence, of which he knows about as much as the next fellow.

Overall, not a bad haul: three orcs and fifteen goblins.

The elf looks pale and piqued.  Magic use is draining he explains, although it might be more about the bounty collecting.  Petar keeps quiet and watchful, never far from Camille.

"I'll read that necromancer journal and learn more," he tells her.  While Petar suspects the missing cleric will be at that 'X' on the map, he has no proof of course.  They also had that skull which they could show Doromas and perhaps learn more about Exidamarall.

Heading back now made the most sense.  Getting stuck in these woods after dark seemed like a really bad idea.

In reply to Petar the Elf (msg # 237):

When Angus found the dead bear, he used his dagger there too. He cut a haunch and stuck it in it's own bag to roast and eat later. If it was salvageable, he'd take the bear hide too, to sale or use as a blanket/bed

"Bear for dinner thanks to our goblin and orc friends. Lets get moving out of the woods and onto the plain at least. Find a sheltered place for a fire to roast dinner!"
This message was last edited by the player at 15:33, Sun 07 June 2020.

OOC: Cutting and skinning the animal will probably take you another hour. A bear is large.

Do you wish to take the time?

In reply to Game Master (msg # 239):

IF it is salvageable, yes, Marille can help. It's a bearskin rug when tanned.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:13, Sun 07 June 2020.

"The sheltered place we seek is back in Emberdell," said Aila.  "I do not wish to wait for darkness to fall out here."

"Can we make it in the dark?" Angus asked Aila. "We can push on after dark if you wish, an hour or two in the dark won't matter."

Well, it does have a lot of smaller holes in it, and three significant cuts along the abdomen. Up to you.

OOC: And we are also doing this by skills! I almost forgot.

Either one of you have either Hunting or Survival?

In reply to Game Master (msg # 244):

GENERAL SKILLS (X free slots)
Skill         Ability  Roll  Notes
Alchemy         Int.    +2
Prof. Cook      Int.    +2
Cartography     Int.    +2
Fire-Building   Int.    +2
Fishing         Int.    +2
Know, History   Int.    +2

Maybe we won't get the skin! What a waste! ;-)

This message was last edited by the player at 17:12, Sun 07 June 2020.

In reply to Black Angus (msg # 240):

"Buttur te be safe thun surry. Take de heads n receiven ur tribut." Marille shoke her head at skinning the bear. Safety was more important to her than risking reinforcements attacking. In the dead of night.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:21, Sun 07 June 2020.

Lead the way back Petar, No one has the skill to skin the beast yet, I'll learn though!"

Marille grabbed the human wizard in a bear hug and said, "Me bettun ye wull wun't ye?" Not realizing her strength. The hug lifter Angus off the ground and he might have felt a little discomfort in the mighty woman's grasp. "Ane tinun o wha we may be duin affer in we gut paid?"

"The sheltered place we seek is back in Emberdell," said Aila.  "I do not wish to wait for darkness to fall out here."

"Yes indeed, let's go, go, go," Petar urged, looking closely at a goblin arrow before deciding to take a few or not.  They had bounties to collect and books to read, supper at the inn, and all of them needed a bath, whether they knew it, or not!

Once they were back in a proper march order, the elf tried to relax, but he could not.  His head throbbed now that the battle tension was gone, replaced by fatique and a queasy feeling whenever he looked at the sacks on Rosey, now completed soaked in red.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:48, Sun 07 June 2020.

Taking up her place in line, Aila was glad that she was well forward of the heads.  It had been one thing altogether to speak of it in the abstract, the reality had revealed things that disturbed her about some companions.

Still, it was important to learn, and she found herself drawn to look to Phelan.  "What do you like to do after a fight?" asked Aila.  "I think I'm going to be springing for a bath when we get back to town."

"Anyone want that single edged sword? If not, I want it. I'll learn to wield it as well as tan hides of the beasts I kill."

The musclebound woman shook her head. In her head Marille thought to herself, A goblin sword probably didn't have much worth. They didn't have the art of crafting like dwarven blacksmiths. Or elven blacksmiths as well with there special crafting style.

Phelan agreed that heading back was the best decision. She didn't like the idea of sleeping in the wild with sacks full of heads.

In reply to GM

OOC - a saber you said? nice quality?

"I am not interested in such," said Aila with a raised eyebrow as she considered the bloodthirsty mage.

Having retrieved her staff, she was ready to make the return to the safe confines of Emberdell--and a bath and some time for meditation.

Yes, a saber. Of workable quality. It will need some maintenance to return to good quality.

Now, sabers are not part of the weapons that mages can normally use. However, I don't believe in the logic that some weapons are just not "usable" by classes, but Weapon Mastery rules do have a provision for this sort of situation: you can certainly wield it, but it only does half damage, rounded down. In addition, and this I am adding a secondary house rule, your Thac0 is based on only half your level.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:50, Wed 10 June 2020.

With everyone in agreement to spend the night in town, you packed your "trophies" and headed back through the fields.

Returning to town was relatively uneventful. You ran into a small group of wolves, four of them, who followed you for a short distance, sometimes approaching then giving distance again. The smell of the sacks was becoming stronger, and the blood was leaving a grisly trail of red behind you, which, although it became fainter as the blood left, was still a strong draw for the wolves' keen sense of smell.

However, all that came to an end as you approached Emberdell, and the first guards with torches greeted your approach. The wolves didn't dare get closer, as there were now too many of you, and there were plenty of fires nearby.

You started off to visit Master Garrel, only to be informed by the guards at the round that he had closed shop for the day. You were then invited to return tomorrow morning, as he was here in the early part of any day, but usually finished his days in the later afternoon.

So you return to the Sleeping Owl, where Larissa greets you again, showing a measure of surprise as you enter through the establishment's door. The other patrons fall silent as you shuffle into the common room, and their eyes grow big in wonder as you drag the sack in with you.

"Lo'k at w'at th' cat dr'gged in! Go'd ta see ya, lads, lasses! Food and drink?"

Doromas, sitting at the same table, looks up at you and smiles a pleased, satisfied smile. He nods to all of you as you come in.

You notice that Doromas' eyes meet Camille's. She shakes her head and looks away. Doromas nods in understanding.

"We may fare better tomorrow Camille, all hope is not lost yet." Angus tells the cleric patting her on the back, "Keep your faith."

"Yes Marille, food and drink, a tall glass of cold ale and some ham and cheese for me please."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:01, Wed 10 June 2020.

Marille rubbed her grubby hands then asked Doromas, "Me needs te geh cleaned up. Ah nuce wurm buith. Gut dis gublunkun boud uff uf me."

In reply to Marille Ughari (msg # 259):

"By the gods Marille I think I love you! I NEED a bath too! Goblin and orc blood are disgusting! With all of my brains, they were short circuited, hold the ham until I'm clean, then I'll have a steak instead!" He did down the cold ale though! "I'm second, after Marille with the tub!"
This message was last updated by the player at 15:24, Thu 18 June 2020.

The muscular warrior flashed a smile, "Luv ith a strung wuurd. But ye bu tu sthmull fur me tustes." With a pinch of his cheek Marille heads towards a nice warm bath to wash away the filth from her massive proportions.

"I believe we'll all be wanting a bath before eating much of anything," said Aila.  "Is there some place where that might be managed without waiting one after the other?"

She recalled some of the things that she had read from others' writings of their times of travel from the cloister--places which held bathhouses, some of which were as much a bawdy house as a place for getting clean, some which were a place for getting clean and also places for the most interesting sort of discussions, and she rather hoped that the latter might be available somewhere in this town, and not merely a tub that would simply accrue more filth until the last might as well not bother at all.

You ran into a small group of wolves, four of them, who followed you for a short distance, sometimes approaching then giving distance again.

Blood attracted these predators and Petar was anxious, his predilection for fantasy leaving him wondering if these wolves were goblin pets somehow and they were counting there numbers and eager to report to their masters.  The elf was tired, and felt like every rock was a goblin, every crow a stirge and saw fire beetles where there were sheep.  Getting back to the safety of a settlement spurred him on even as his feet dragged and head drooped.

***

Doromas, sitting at the same table, looks up at you and smiles a pleased, satisfied smile. He nods to all of you as you come in.

Petar gives the master wizard a tired smile in return.  He wants nothing more than an hour alone in his room to get our of armour and wash .. so he does just that.

"Is there some place where that might be managed without waiting one after the other?"

"Each sleeping room will have a tub, the only thing you have to wait for is hot water, unless you want it cold," Petar explains.  He was sure Aila had been raised by wolves, but of course he would never say something so rude!

Actions
Rent room, wash and change, then read book before returning to the common area

Angus laughed quite loudly, a deep belly laugh! He headed for his room and a bath!
This message was last edited by the player at 12:29, Thu 11 June 2020.

Aila shuddered at the thought of a cold bath.  She much preferred the bath house moving from room to room to complete the process, but made the arrangements to get some hot water for her bath and heading to her room to bathe.

Larissa heard everyone's requests, but she shook her head. With a slightly apologetic explanation, she told you that there were only two tubs available at the Sleeping Owl right now. You would have to use them in pairs.

After getting things ready, she invited you to sit down and eat first, since it would take time to heat enough water to fill them. She brought back what was available at the kitchen this night: mutton and ale, fresh water, if needed, and freshly cut fruit. She also invited you to take that bloody sack outside, as it was stinking up the tavern.

As you sat down at the same table you used the day before, a pair of the regular patrons, two men by the names of Sowen and Olagh, stood up and asked to join you. They wanted to hear how your day was, and how you managed to come back practically unhurt AND with a trove of heads.

You would have to use them in pairs.

With a grin Petar wondered how that was going to work.  He wan't quite as blood-spattered as the front-line head-takers, so he volunteers to go last.  He did want to escape upstairs and get out of the armour and read that book.  He takes a few steps in that direction ...

She also invited you to take that bloody sack outside, as it was stinking up the tavern.

And steps back to the party ...

Since the stinking sack was also representative of quite a lot of gold, Petar says quietly for his fellow bounty-collectors: "It can't be left unguarded.  Outside in the dark is a bad idea .. someone's room?  I can't imagine anyone stealing it but why take the risk."

... two men by the names of Sowen and Olagh, stood up and asked to join you. They wanted to hear how your day was, and how you managed to come back practically unhurt AND with a trove of heads.

"Hard work won the day, by might and magic," is all Petar says.  Normally he would love to tell them the story, but right now he's tired, hungry, dirty and pre-occupied, so he lets someone else fill in the locals.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:57, Fri 12 June 2020.

Marille looked at Larissa with a lifted eyebrow. "Larissa bufur ye leeve gut me a booket. An sum wuter, ull me need ith uh stuble."

The muscular woman had nothing to speak with the two men about. There was one thing on her mind, but she couldn't remember what...

Given that you have to wait for the water to heat, Larissa helps Marille out in the stable and gets her a bucket of water, as she requested. She provides the first bucket of hot water, so that the warrior woman would not freeze in the stables by herself. She also brings a towel and large block of soap.

Back at the tavern, the water is heating up while everyone is talking, eating and drinking.

Sowen, the more talkative of the two, speaks.

"I've not been outside of my workshop in years. My father used to want to teach me to handle the sword...," he peers at Petar, who has a solid weapon by his waist, "... but I was never any good at it." He laughed. "He would say, 'Sowinik, how are you going to fight the dragons if you don't know how to use a good sword? Are you going to run? Are you going to hide?' But I showed him. I've done good for myself here. I have my own shop, I am my own master." He smiled a proud smile. "Besides, everyone knows dragons don't exist." He laughed at his own comment, and sent an encouraging elbow to his partner sitting next to him, who joined him in the mirth, although a bit awkwardly.

"But you... there's been many like you here before. 'Adventurers', they said, brave, curious, looking for gold, or glory. But only a few returned. Many died out there. And here you are, back in one day, all of you. I am beginning to think you really are adventurers. Tell us, did you find them sleeping? Did you fight from a hill? Did you kill them all with arrows?"

Sowen looks at the sack.

"What is that? Twenty heads? It's a big pile. You were outnumbered...", you can tell he's doing mental gymnastics in his head, "... FIVE to one at the least. You must be really good to have made such a fight into a victory."

Then, leaning forward conspiratorially, he lowers his voice, looks around him to see no one else is watching, and asks, "Can you show us where we can find some, too? A bounty or two like that and I could move my shop to the Haven. Maybe find me a nice wife."

At the mention of a wife, Olagh laughs out loud from behind his drink. "Aye, I could use one, too."

Sowen turns to look at him, and smiles broadly. "Wives, one for you and one for me! Yes?"

They smash their wooden tankards together, cheering, "To wives!", and drink them empty.

Marille thanked the keeper Larissa as she brought her soap and water to bathe in. The goblin blood had long since dried in on her body and hands, but with vigorous intent. The bulky woman scrubbed the filth off of her. She did have a few moments to contemplate what she had done earlier. Sure she grew up on a farm and butchered meat, culled lame live stock. But she had never chopped a humanoid before.

"It had to be my blood being up? This is my life now."  Marille dried herself off and found some thatch to sit upon as she curdled into a ball. Her armor was still bloody, but there was nothing to be done about till morning. She passed the time taking a whetstone to her blade. Before she had the resolve to head back into the tavern.

Deciding that perhaps a full bath could wait, Aila went to her room to thoroughly wash her face and hands, change clothes and fix her hair properly, as well as clean the hair dagger with the tree of life motif.

Once these tasks were complete, she returned to get some food and drink.

After he had scrubbed himself clean, Angus cleaned and sharpened his dagger. He dressed in clean clothes and headed down for food and drink. He asked the bartender about laundry service to get his other clothes cleaned of blood and gore.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:51, Sun 14 June 2020.

After a few minutes in the tavern, Petar warms up a little as the stress of the day lessens and he can focus on other things.  He really wants to read that book, though.

"Besides, everyone knows dragons don't exist." He laughed at his own comment, and sent an encouraging elbow to his partner sitting next to him, who joined him in the mirth, although a bit awkwardly.

"They have a whole language and culture, strange for things that don't exist," Petar says with a half-smile, which becomes a full smile as he goes on: "But not existing around here is a good thing, if you've heard only a half the stories of dragons that are told."

Petar could even brag and say he'd studied Dragontongue and may even know a few words, but that wasn't his way.  Instead he turns the conversation around and asks the two about their origins and what kind of business they were in.

Purposefully leaving out battle details, which were not for pleasant company, Petar instead frowns a little at how eager they looked.  These two wandering into the forest would be orc food.

Then, leaning forward conspiratorially, he lowers his voice, looks around him to see no one else is watching, and asks, "Can you show us where we can find some, too? A bounty or two like that and I could move my shop to the Haven. Maybe find me a nice wife."

"You want to find some?  You have a good suit of metal armour?  A sword?  Can you fire a bow twenty times in a few minutes and hit something a hundred feet away more times than miss?  What magic spells do you know?"

His tone is serious, his eyes a warning to these men that they had better not think it was so easy.  Petar had been training with weapons and magic for a long time, his choices were made with at least some idea that he could survive them.

Phelan eats in silence while she waits for her turn at the bath. She hopes the bath and the rest will finish healing her wounds from the stirges as she is ready to venture out again preferring the wild spaces to the human stench of town.

Marille re-entered the tavern, she made her way to the others table. Where she took a seat silently.

Phelan, not one for much company, finishes her meal and makes her excuse. She heads to her room. She stows her gear except for her axe which she places by her bed and her dagger which she balances on the door handle after she locks it; a makeshift alarm in case someone tries to break in in the night.

"You want to find some?  You have a good suit of metal armour?  A sword?  Can you fire a bow twenty times in a few minutes and hit something a hundred feet away more times than miss?  What magic spells do you know?," demands Petar.

Sowen glares back.

"I was in the guard years ago. I may not have a nice metal suit like you, fancy elf, but I have my leathers, and a spear, and a good shield. I can hold my ground in line, and seen battle twice."

Olagh puts a hand on Sowen's shoulder.

"Sowen... let it go. We can try it on our own tomorrow."

He pushes the hand away.

"No...!"

His eyes scan over the assembled group. They don't seem interested. He relents.

"Aye... Let us do that."

Turning to Petar again, he adds, "We'll see you tomorrow in the field. Come, Olagh, let's find better company."

Sowen and Olagh return to their table.

A few hours later and everyone's had a bath, a good scrubbing, and is now clean and feeling better. It is amazing how a good clean tub of water and a some food can bring your spirits up.


OOC: So... what do you want to do about the heads until next morning?

Camille listens to the men talk, and smiles to her herself. It's been a long day, everyone was feeling a bit cranky.

She leans over to Petar.

"Hey. I know these two. They are not the brightest pair, but they mean well. This is not like them."

She takes a sip from her cup.

Larissa tells Angus that laundry can be done for him, but it won't be ready until the day after tomorrow, when the cleaners finish and the clothes have a chance to dry. It would be 5 cp a load.

In reply to Game Master (msg # 279):

Angus hands him a silver piece for a good job.

Aila likewise made arrangements for her laundry, paying the necessary coins, and ordering her food and drink.

"What do you suppose might be bothering them, then?" she asked Camille. "If such behavior is unlike them--unless it's just a matter of being in their cups."

Marille looked after the two worried. She rose to follow them to their table. Once there she motioned to a seat.

OOC: If allowed to sit Marille will test each in a simple test of strength ie armwrestling to gauge there strength; if not she will simply ask them where she might find an armorer or blacksmith?

In reply to Marille Ughari (msg # 282):

Angus stowed the heads under his bed when he went to bed. He balanced a dagger on the doorknob and locked the door. He laid down and went to sleep.

Good thing he slept light.

OOC - how many beds in a room, he will share the room with Petar if he wishes
This message was last edited by the player at 15:59, Thu 18 June 2020.

Turning to Petar again, he adds, "We'll see you tomorrow in the field. Come, Olagh, let's find better company."

While Petar knew his responses were for their own good, their rebuke stung the elf who seemed to want to be everyone's friend.  He did look worried about their determination to seek out bounties.  Joining the conversation with Aila and Camille, he adds:

"You can work a whole day in a simple job and earn a simple silver piece, so the gold paid for these heads is ..." he says, looking around at the other adventurers as if realising something for the first time.  "A lot."

At first Petar figured the best place for the heads was behind a locked door in the inn, but then he wondered if the stables were a better choice.  He really didn't know.  He nods at Angus.  "Alright, we can guard them, but we need sleep too."

The night was young but the elf was feeling the effects of the day, so he heads upstairs before more locals came wandering over.  Petar is still determined to read the book, though .. hopefully that won't take too long.

Actions
Getting out of the common room :P  Reading journal/book.
Share a room with Angus sounds good.  Locking the door!

OOC: I am assuming you mean Larissa? It's a "her".

Larissa takes the coin.

"'ll see if th'y can h'rry it up. But th'y c'nt start t'll t'morrow."

Camille looks at the pair, who by now are sitting at their table looking like nothing happened. They are back at their drinks and talking and smiling.

There is a long pause.

"I don't know. They came to Emberdell maybe three years go. They set up shop, and have made a quiet living. They like to spend time out of town. And sometimes travel."

Her eyes linger on them for a while.

"They never wanted to be adventurers. There have been other bands, but I have never seen them want to join a group like this. Maybe the reward was never this good."

"Huh? What's this? Are you here to challenge us to arm wrestling?"

Sowen takes one look at the muscle-bound woman before him, then looks at his own arms. He shakes his head.

"Oh no. I suppose you'll want to put a friendly wager on that, too? No, not I. You look stronger than an ox, and as big as a horse. I would wager you can pull a cart all by yourself. Join us for a drink, if you want, but you don't need to prove you are stronger than us. I can plainly see you are."

Olagh, though, didn't wait to be invited. He sat himself before Marille with a drunken grin, slammed his elbow on the table, and offered his grip to her.

"Don't listen to him. Between the two of us, I am the stronger one. Let's do this. If I win, I get a kiss."

Sowen laughed hearthily at the suggestion.

"So that's how it's going to be? What do you get if you lose?"

OOC: You can have your own room, if you like. Most of the rooms are small and narrow, for one person. But you can have larger rooms, with larger beds, or two separate beds.

Petar joined Angus in his room, which was now setup for two, and fished out the small log book from his pocket. It was dirty, covered in dust and grime. There were some blood stains on it as well.

Paging through the pages he realizes that many of them were torn out the beginning  of the book, leaving only the latest entries, and a few remaining blank pages towards the end.

The pages begin with an entry marked without a year.

"Vondall 4 -

Yolandi came to visit me again today. She is such a sweet girl, she reminds me of her mother. Rest her soul in peace. I've been spending too much time in the field again, but my discoveries seem to want to take me deeper into the hills.


Vondall 11 -

The trip was uneventfull. I have set up camp and have began an initial perimeter of observation. My two guards are adequate, but they look like they would rather not be here. I pay them well enough, I hope they don't abscond overnight.


Vondall 18 -

The first signs are finally open. The small wayshrine was very old, and it bears the signs marking the beginnings of the Exidamarall cult many years ago. These stones are a living historical record. It is a tragedy I can't just pick them up and take them with me. They would make a wonderful exhibit.


Vondall 25 -

I've broken camp and continued upwards into the hills. We are staying hidden as best as we can. We had a brush with death after stumbling into a goblin camp. Barely got out with our lives. It is good they are so small they don't run very fast.


Vondall 26 -

We lost our donkey today to a flock of wild stirges. They found us at night, we didn't have much time to prepare. With her gone we have to carry our supplies on our backs. This makes things much more difficult.


Vondall 27 -

We found a cave for shelter. It was hidden behind a large growth of brush and scrub. We got lucky in finding it. If it hadn't been for the flight of sparrows coming up from behind them, we'd never known.


Vondall 28 -

Rickard went exploring and found the entrance. I can't believe we stumbled into it so easily. Here it is. The secret entrance to the lost Exidamarall expedition. I will begin my observations tomorrow, after we have made sure everything is in good order. Rickard suggest we head home first, get more supplies, a new donkey, and perhaps more workers, diggers, should we need them. Dohlen feels uneasy. I reassure him that this site is ancient, and there is nothing to worry about.


Vondall 29 -

How did it all go so wrong? Let this be a warning to anyone who comes close. The site is still alive, and the guardians walk about. Rickard and Dohlen are dead. They tried to buy me an escape, but they were set on fire by the chamber's guardians. I hope these notes are found by someone who can appreciate the historical significance of this find. These may be my last words. I can hear them walking about. I hope they don't "

And they end without any further words, simply stopping mid-sentence. The writer didn't appear to finish it.

In reply to Game Master (msg # 287):

"Huh? What's this? Are you here to challenge us to arm wrestling?"

Sowen takes one look at the muscle-bound woman before him, then looks at his own arms. He shakes his head.

"Oh no. I suppose you'll want to put a friendly wager on that, too? No, not I. You look stronger than an ox, and as big as a horse. I would wager you can pull a cart all by yourself. Join us for a drink, if you want, but you don't need to prove you are stronger than us. I can plainly see you are."

Olagh, though, didn't wait to be invited. He sat himself before Marille with a drunken grin, slammed his elbow on the table, and offered his grip to her.

"Don't listen to him. Between the two of us, I am the stronger one. Let's do this. If I win, I get a kiss."

Sowen laughed hearthily at the suggestion.

"So that's how it's going to be? What do you get if you lose?"

"Ye buu me uh runth. Purdun me speech. Frum de furm."

With that the muscular woman flexed her wrist and grasped the mans hand tightly.

"So tull me... if'n ethur one uf ye can shoot an arruw or gud wid healun?"

"Interesting," said Aila, watching the by-play with these two men and Marille.  She continued to eat her food, content that the heads were going to be adequately cared for in the overnight.   She was content to observe until time to retire.

Once retiring to her solo room, she settled in to conduct her meditations, allowing the events of the day to flow through her memory for things that were worth remembering and lessons to be learned.  Once her meditations were complete, she would be ready to retire to sleep for the night.

Marille and Olagh gripped their hands tightly.

"Oh! You are really doing this?"

Sowen slaps Olagh on the shoulder.

"You asked for it. She's going to break your arm. On three. One... two... three!"

It wasn't even a contest. Marille instantly slammed Olagh's arm into the table hard enough to make it jump. Everyone in the tavern watching the contest laughed at how quickly it was over.

Olagh winced in pain, and began to rub his elbow.

"Ow! You are an ox, woman. Where did you get so strong?"

Other men stopped by to congratulate Marille, and bought her several drinks for being a fun sport. They also very politely declined on the idea of having an arm wrestling round of their own.

"Told you she would win easy."

"I know, I know... but I had to try." Olagh looks up at Marille and answers her question. "Sowen is better at bows than me, I never could handle a string well. I am good with a spear, he's better with a sword. We'll never win a tournament, but we make good soldiers. Neither one of us is trained for healing."