One guard, unfamiliar to the group, gave warning in the dark morning. Great threats lurked out there past the walls, and anyone without a guide should consider carefully whether or not they were willing to risk their lives in their travels. Rhydd, however, was an assuring sight. If not a conventional ranger, he dressed and acted like someone who knew the wilderness. And on top of that they had a Goliath, who likely needed no cautioning.

The Eastway, traversed through the joint efforts of Zula, Wifni, and Mallory's magical sled, yielded a different sight to the barren landscape to the east. To the south of the road towered the tall evergreens of Hopwood, which provided lumber, food, and running water to the nearby settlements of Good Mead and Dougan's Hole. It was a hilly woods, but snow melted far slower during Auril's reign so now the rivers powered no mills.

As Elsun approached, the barest hints of sunshine peaked up above the Spine, basking Icewind Dale in twilight. Clouds were starting to creep back from their retreat. Birds chirped.

Rhydd had spotted tracks immediately after they'd left through the Eastgate which they'd followed, and here they veered off into the forest.

---

I'll leave some breathing room here. I'm curious about Zula as well as the sled, so it would be nice if we could have a quick word on those.

Rhydd's Survival Check [17]: There are four sets of tracks; two belong to someone roughly the size of a human, one to someone smaller — a child, Halfling, or Gnome, perhaps — while the last was a dog's. They were traveling together, along the road, away from Bryn Shander and here they headed southward into Hopwood. A stone toss away from the road, by some shrubbery, lied the excrement of the dog.

You're basically here at this point, and haven't been traveling for more than half an hour at most.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:25, Thu 19 May 2022.

A bright new morning was too much to ask for in Ten-Towns.  There was a large part of Mallory that dearly missed the glorious sunrises and sunsets of her home, painting the sky a wild array of colors and lighting up the sea with a dazzling shine.  The perpetual gloom of greys-and-whites in Icewind Dale was a poor substitute.  Though, given how much she'd drunk the night before and how much she grumbled after waking, a lack of bright daylight was probably the best thing for her head.  As had been the case every morning thus far Mallory started her day looking more tired and worn than she'd been going to bed; the dark rings beneath her eyes were deeper than ever and a spot between her eyebrows seemed stuck in a perpetual furrow.

Torgrim's absence was something of a surprise, but not an especially great one.  The man had rolled into their lives apropos of nothing at all, been a mysterious figure in his brief stay, and vanished just as swiftly.  The letter he left behind likewise left questions that would likely never be given a satisfactory answer either.  In the end, Mallory could only give Rhydd and Farwalker a helpless shrug as they were set to instead head out one man short into the frozen wastes of Icewind Dale.

Still, time waited for nobody - weariness and hangovers be damned.  A quick breakfast was the only prelude she had to getting underway.  It'd taken a short trek on foot beyond the gates while she rode atop her Axe Beak in her usual side saddle, slowed to a plodding pace to manage Wifni's stride with the others still on foot.  It wasn't until they were a fair ways beyond the view of Bryn Shander's gates that the young noble called for a stop.

"Alright, we're far enough from town that this won't make a fuss.  A few moments of your patience, please, everyone." Mallory announced as she slid down from her saddle and ended up nearly knee-deep in the snow.  She trudged away a short bit and drew her lantern rod up at length like a baton to be swept about side to side where the trailing light from within seemed to hang in the air after it had already passed.  Not just a lingering trick of the eyes but actual coalescing strands of pure, shimmering light as Mallory traced lines through the air.  The more the light gathered the more it came to seem that she wasn't so much drawing them out so much as sculpting them with every motion, each sweep of her lantern enough to nudge and bend, to push and curl, until a coherent and rather large shape began to form.  Until, at last, she brought the end of her lantern rod down to give the formation a gentle tap and the whole thing sparked out with a flurry of rapidly dissolving motes... and, in the wake of that light, sat a sleigh!  A sizable, sturdy, well-worn looking sleigh plenty big enough to carry even the likes of Farwalker on its wooden seating.

"That should do the trick!  Honestly, it's a bit more... quaint... than my personal aesthetics would normally prefer, but I thought it better not to be too showy.  Better to fit in with the local flavor, right?" Mallory seemed quite content with her work as she turned to the others with a presentational flourish.  "Now then, while I conjure another for Squire Kumalo's steed to pull, would someone be so kind as to yoke up Wifni to this one?  I figure two sleighs should be plenty for all of us to ride comfortably."

---

Mallory ritual casts "Phantom Vehicle" and will do so again if Khulekani is okay with her mount pulling a sled as well.

https://i.imgur.com/Ziaklki.jpg - Reference for the sort of sled Mallory has conjured.

Phantom Vehicle Details:

A large, quasi-real vehicle appears on the ground in an unoccupied space of your choice within range.  The vehicle can be a Carriage, Chariot, Sled, or Wagon.  You decide the vehicle's appearance, but it is equipped with harnesses, straps, bits, and reins for up to four horses or similar beasts of burden, as well as a hauling hitch on the back.  Any equipment created by the spell vanishes in a puff of smoke if it is carried more than 10 feet away from the vehicle.

The vehicle has 10 hit points and is immune to poison and psychic damage.  If the vehicle drops to 0 hit points, it disappears, leaving behind no physical form.  You can also dismiss the vehicle at any time as an Action, causing it to disappear and ending the spell.

You have a supernatural bond with the illusory vehicle that allows you to drive beyond your normal ability.  While driving the illusory vehicle, you are considered Proficient with Land Vehicles.  If you were already Proficient, double your Proficiency Bonus on ability checks related to driving the illusory vehicle.

Also, Astre will be playing scout this entire time as usual.  He'll be up in the sky just at the edge of telepathy range, circling the Party as they go and keeping an eye out for anything dangerous or worthy of investigation.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:15, Fri 20 May 2022.

"Amazing," Rhydd said in a good way, shaking his head in, well . . . amazement . . . as Lady Mallory used her magicks to conjure up a very useful sleigh. The outdoorsman turned his attention to putting Winfri in harness to the sleigh as Mallory went to work to create a second vehicle.

"If you keep proving yourself to be this useful, we may just have to keep you around," he called out over his shoulder to the wizardess in a jesting tone of voice.

Once all was set and the party was set to proceed, Rhydd asked someone else to drive the sleigh that he was sitting in, so that he could concentrate on the tracks that he had spied earlier.

"Four sets of tracks," he had explained at the time. "Two Human-sized, one smaller -- most likely a Gnome or Halfling -- and a dog."

After proceeding down the Eastway for half and hour or so, Rhydd raised a hand and said "Stop here."

With bow in hand, he jumped down out of the sleigh and veered off into the forest. After a short while he returned to join his companions.

"The tracks leave the road and head off into the Hopwood," he explained.

"I'm not sure why that group would have left the road. They don't seem to be following a game trail, although mayhap there is one that has been covered up by the snow. I am going to follow the tracks for a little bit and see if they head deeper into the forest, or do something else."

"I'll return after a short while and tell you what I have found."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:01, Sat 21 May 2022.

Before the group had set off, Khulekani had excused herself for a time. While she did not have much in the way of personal possession or baggage, she did own a horse. Well, "own" wasn't the correct word, but time was a factor, and the young Squire did not have the minutes required to share the tale. There would be time enough for that on the road. After visiting Bryn Shander's nicest stable, the dark-skinned woman returned with a breathtaking steed who she introduced as Zula.

Zula was a massive Destrier, a proud mare that stood nearly twenty-hands high at the shoulder. The coat that shone over her thick muscles was pure snow white that glittered with a silver highlight. Like the horse was living statue made out of platinum. This complimented the glorious and well-combed hair of the mane and tail, which glistened with a slightly golden tint instead, almost like the hair itself was made of white gold. While one-in-a-million horses might be so blessed as to have that metallic coloring, over so fine a form, Zula's hooves showed that this was not simply a well-bred champion horse. They were a pure black, but infused with shining veins throughout, almost as if they were made of quartz-infused ebony marble.

But it was the eyes that stood as proof that this was not a mortal beast. Zula's eyes were the sky blue of a perfect spring day, but there was an intelligence to them, and a level of empathy and strength that no normal horse could hope to achieve. The touch of the heavens upon her was as clear a fact as the rising of the sun.

With a few whispered words from Khulekani, Zula waited with patience and dignity as the squire attached the reins and bits from the magical sled that Mallory had conjured. Normally she was a warhorse, but she was intelligent enough to understand the need for this arrangement. For her part, Khulekani looked thrilled at the whole affair. Like a child at a festival.

I've never been on a sleigh-ride before! It doesn't get that cold down in Amn..." she confessed, but without embarrassment.

However, the smile slowly left her face when Rhydd began examining tracks and spoke of splitting up.

"Do we have cause for concern, Master Maldhon?" Khulekani asked calmly, hand coming to rest on the hilt of her blade.

In reply to Khulekani Kumalo (msg # 4):

"Concern?" Rhydd echoed the paladin as he straightened up from examining the tracks. "Nay, not yet."

The outdoorsman flashed a thin-lipped smile. "All the same, I would suggest that no one should stretch out for a nap until I have a better idea why this group left the road to head off into the woods -- and where they might be, now."

"You should come to Neverwinter during our winter festival season.  It's a grand bit of fun, really; we have a lengthy slalom run where drivers will craft hideously outlandish sleighs and race them downhill.  Much more popular these days since the local clergy decided to step in and handle injuries as a matter of course." Mallory chimed out at the prospect of sleigh rides.

It was perhaps a bit odd to see her take the reins to drive Wifni's sled herself but, despite all appearances of being a prim noble, she proved quite capable at handling the task.  She had seemed well enough at home in riding saddled atop her Axe Beak prior as well.  Though, given the nature of her spell, whoever ended up driving the other sleigh would find the trick of it.  When seated with the reins in hand, aptitude and knowledge somehow filtered into the driver's mind to fill in gaps where there had been no information before.  To hold the reins then would feel like old hat even if they'd never once in their life done such a task!  Given what Mallory had achieved with both Streamseeker and the Simulacrum, it seemed that her capacity for magically influencing others' minds was perhaps worrying diverse...

When it came time for Rhydd to set off for a bit of scouting on his own, Mallory nodded briefly skyward.  "We'll stay alert, but you should as well, Rhydd.  Astre will keep an eye on you from above.  If anything goes amiss and you need help, do something to signal him."  High up above, the Tressym in question lazily drifted on the icy wind and, sure enough, would trail his circling path to follow Rhydd once he headed off among the trees.  So long as the cover didn't obscure his view from on high, Astre would remain aloft.  But, if the trees became too dense to see through, he'd dive down to flit among the boughs and branches in order to keep sight of Rhydd.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:19, Tue 24 May 2022.

Sounds good," Rhydd said with a nod when Lady Mallory said that Astre would be accompanying him. He knew that the flying feline would have an entirely different line of sight than he would, and might very easily spot things that were unseen for a man traveling along the ground.

The archer nocked an arrow and moved off along the trail of footprints left by the earlier party. He decided to proceed quietly until he had a better understanding of what had happened, and the snow seemed to muffle his footfalls quite well.

Rhydd did not bother to try and disguise his own trail that his feet made in the snow. Doing so would slow him down, and he did not see the need for it. Plus, it would point the way back to his companions, if perchance he needed to rejoin them in a hurry.

---

OOC:

12:12, Today: Rhydd Maldhon rolled 27 using 2d20+7, dropping the lowest dice only with rolls of 14,20.  Stealth (w/ Advantage).

12:13, Today: Rhydd Maldhon rolled 24 using 2d20+5, dropping the lowest dice only with rolls of 8,19.  Survival Check (w/Advantage).

Comments: Wow. The Dice-Roller is playing nice today. :)

---

Rhydd's Stealth Check (w/ Advantage) to move silently through the woods [27!]: No one knew Rhydd was there — not even the animals. A Snow Hare hopped happily away a few trees over, its ears not even twitching at his presence.

Rhydd's Survival (w/ Advantage) to follow the tracks [24]: These were trappers and hunters. They had let the big, blonde coated Dog take the lead to sniff out trails for them. At some point, it had caught the scent of something, and then, about fifty feet away, the tracks of a Stag appeared. The group, now approaching a hill that climbed steadily off into the center of the forest, followed it for a while.

However, before they had found the opportunity to pounce and fell it, other tracks began to appear. There were at least a dozen, following, stalking out of sight. They'd taken care to travel silently, and then, eventually, the people these additional tracks belonged to surrounded the hunters and trappers. Though a confrontation had clearly taken place, there was little sign of a struggle, and the tracks intermingled, coalescing into a larger trail that led southward. Strands of long, gray hair laid scattered around.

Astre's Perception Check (w/ Disadvantage) to follow Rhydd [10]: The treetops grew numerous and obscuring. It did not help Astre's case that Rhydd moved quickly, dipping in and out of the overhead branches as he traveled, nor was it helpful that he was transgressing on the territory of a local Falcon. The bird of prey took off and began circling the area, screeching at Astre. Through this distraction and Rhydd's aptness, Astre lost him and had to dive down to pick up his scent and tracks. From there, Astre could use his feline grace to maneuver the forest relatively unseen — and for now, the Falcon seemed to leave him be.

Khulekani's Divine Sense: Aside from Zula, there were no Celestial, Fiends, or Fey nearby. The range was also limited, which meant there could still be threats lurking further inside the forest.

In the meantime after Rhydd left and Khulekani had begun to focus quite intently on their surroundings, Mallory occupied herself with scrutinizing the Squire's peculiar horse.  She trusted both Rhydd and Astre to be able to handle themselves without her doting on them like a fussed mother hen, despite how often she stuck her nose into others' affairs.  They were off doing what they were best at, after all.

"Is your steed a tethered spirit, Squire?  I'd imagine it'd be a similar ritual construction as the one I forged with Astre, but at a far greater aetheric density.  Can she speak?" the young noble seemed quite fascinated by Zula as she paced around the mare in examination.  Any distraction to keep her mind off the cold, perhaps.

Rhydd scratched his chin-whiskers thoughtfully. Whatever had happened here, it did not appear to have resulted in violence.

Since he did not feel like he was yet able to provide a full explanation to his companions regarding what had happened to the original group, he decided to follow the now-larger set of tracks and see where it led.

The outdoorsman proceeded cautiously, moving in the same general direction as the other tracks, but staying off to the side so that if anyone were watching their back-trail, they (hopefully) would not spot him.

Slowly opening her eyes from her sensory attempt, Khulekani had to blink a few times in order to get back into the moment. Sensing evil was a use of her perceptions that would be alien to most people. But then again, she lived a life most of them did not, and had training in this area. Mallory's honest question brought a smile to her face, and she was more than happy to answer.

"Nay, Zula is no spirit bound to my will. She is a creature born to the Seven Heavens of Mount Celestia. I did not so much summon her as allow a free agent to cross the Planes in order to join me in my duty of her own accord. I could no more force her to serve me than I could you. She isn't simply my steed, she is my great friend and ally..." Khulekani said fondly, petting Zula on her flanks with a gloved hand.

"She cannot speak. Well, her mouth cannot form the Common tongue, but she can understand you. And I can understand her. You will find that she is more intelligent than some people you know! But please, if you would speak with her, I would be more than happy to relay her thoughts," she finished with an amused chuckle.

The affection with which Khulekani spoke drew a smile in return.  For as fierce and imposing a figure as the Squire cut, it was a relief to see moments of almost innocent levity in contrast.

"Quite a bit like Astre then.  The ritual that ties a witch and her Familiar together is less a binding chain and more of... hm... an invitation.  To share my soul, our lives, as one to experience the world together in ways we never could alone.  As a child I set a beacon and called out to the Feywilds." she thumbed back vaguely at the treeline where Astre had dove down into in evading a bothersome local bird.  "I got that little bastard man for my trouble."

All in good fun, of course.  The open affection and concern which Mallory and Astre held for each other was apparent at the briefest of glances.  It was true that a caster could force their Familiar to obey commands yet she never seemed inclined to do so at all, even if it did mean putting up with a feline's temperamental nature instead.  Zula seemed like a far more complacent sort by contrast.  The offer for translation between the two was met with a smile as Mallory offered the mare a polite curtsy.

"The same is for Astre and myself, language and all.  He can understand us perfectly well and is annoyingly intelligent - don't let any act of his otherwise fool you.  He can even read and write." she chuckled softly.  "As for you, Miss Zula, thank you very much for bearing us along.  I do hope the sleigh isn't too much a bother for you?  I can modify it a bit to make it more comfortable if there's anything you'd prefer."

An idle notion struck her thoughts and she couldn't help but lift her eyes skyward in consideration, then over to her idling Axe Beak.  "Hm... I wonder if I should Awaken Wifni as well someday?  It'd be nice to have an intelligent mount.  Though that is quite a responsibility.  Perhaps you could show me the ritual you performed to call upon your steed sometime, Squire?  I may be able to emulate it myself."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:53, Wed 25 May 2022.

When Mallory addressed Zula after sharing the similarities in their situation, Khulekani cocked her head and listed as the magnificent destrier tossed her head and let out a short snort. Instantly her loved hands covered her mouth but they could do nothing to conceal the shocked amusement that crossed her face, nor fully muffle the sound of her strangled laughter. Once she composed herself, she cleared her throat and cast a half-chiding glance at the celestial creature.

"She um...respectfully insists that she is comfortable and...unburdened. While she respects your concern she thinks it is...misplaced. Oh, and she said don't offer her a carrot to get on her good side. She says she tires of enduring that. But she is glad to meet you," Khulekani said diplomatically, using all of her strength to keep a straight face.

"Hmmm...I agree, it is a big responsibility. You will have basically, for the lack of a better term, given birth to a new person. I'm not sure what that kind of life would be, save for one of intelligent servitude. My instinct says no, but then again I am often accused of being conservative in my approach to magics. As for teaching you the ritual, I would be more than happy too. I must warn you however that it is deeply entwined with my faith, and I know of no spell formulae or symbols to utilize the Weave in a similar manner. You would have to open yourself to my religion, but I am not sure how welcome the Triad would be to you. Honestly, despite the religious nature of my order, we do not proselytize," she shrugged, slightly awkward.

Philosophy and religion. Always thorny issues.

The amount of conversation that went on privately between Khulekani and Zula, as well as the condensed version offered aloud, left Mallory with a sidelong smirk.  Ah, so that's what it felt like to be on the receiving end of it.  She and Astre so often did precisely that themselves that it was easy to become numb to the notion.

"Awakened animals are a curious thing, to be certain.  Just because their minds evolve to greater awareness doesn't mean they aren't still animals.  Their instincts and mannerisms remain.  So if they're treated to their liking and find satisfaction in labor, I don't personally see the harm if they choose to continue that life." she observed as she reached up to give Wifni a fond scratch in the feathers just beneath her blade-like beak.  "We encountered an Awakened behemoth in the waters of Targos recently who was very much held by his own habits, but likewise treasured his newfound awareness.  He didn't want to risk returning to being a mindless beast once he'd known there was more to life.  Though I suppose heightened intellect and awareness could actually be more of a burden on some animals than a boon.  Better to just leave well enough alone, perhaps."

It was a tricky subject with no clear answer one way or the other.  But, in the end, the safest approach was to simply act with caution and not meddle needlessly - a fact so often the case but so often ignored by spellcasters.  History was littered with the wreckage of bothersome mages who allowed their common sense to fall by the wayside.  Hells, they were presently on a trek to visit the ruins of precisely that.

"I must warn you however that it is deeply entwined with my faith, and I know of no spell formulae or symbols to utilize the Weave in a similar manner. You would have to open yourself to my religion, but I am not sure how welcome the Triad would be to you. Honestly, despite the religious nature of my order, we do not proselytize,"

"I'm quite happy with my faith in Tymora, for better or worse.  She's fickle, certainly, but we share a birthday and my powers of divination are of her doing.  Even if she's turned her eye against me of late I'll keep to her side all the same." Barring the evil gods who held foul schemes for mankind's future, there was no need to be at odds over the more benevolent deities and faiths.  Especially those of the Triad who, for all intents and purposes, were allies to all.  "As I said, I'd hope to emulate the spell.  Not duplicate it.  There's fundamentally no difference between the craft of gods and man when it comes to spellcasting; it's simply a matter of scale.  A reasonable facsimile should be well within my reach... not the full splendor Zula bears but a shadow, perhaps." Mallory cast a telling glance over Khulekani's way.  "Though, with enough time... who knows?"

That sort of talk edged dangerously close to blasphemy by some measure, though it wasn't as if arcanists were known for being especially reverent to the gods.  Most saw the deities less as all mighty cosmic forces and more as fellow spellcasters who just had a head start on the acquisition of power.  All the same, Mallory briskly changed the subject.  "You said you're from Amn, is that right?  What's carried you so far north?  Has your order sent you on a pilgrimage?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:11, Thu 26 May 2022.

"As you say..." Khulekani said, allowing the subject of Awakening to end gracefully.

"Ah, Lady Luck. My interactions with her flock have been most...colorful. If you'll forgive the small religious barb, I think one should make their own luck, and not hope for a favorable whim. Yes, I invoke the Triad in my battles with darkness, but even if they did not see me worthy of boons, I would still make the same actions. Ah, forgive me. Strong religious opinions seem to come with the territory. I should really learn to keep my criticisms of other faiths to myself unless asked," she continued, raising her hands in surrender as a sign of apology.

"My teachings say that the power of the Weave and the Will of the gods are very separate forces, despite having sometimes superficially similar effects. But that is a debate for natural philosophers and sages. But to answer your question, yes, I am from Amn. Born and raised in the capital city of Athkatla, as a matter of fact. The Order of the Radiant Heart is headquartered there, and one of their number recruited me. Sweet Triad, were my parents ever...displeased. And no, I am not on a pilgrimage. I am on an Errantry Tour. Which is...well, it's complicated, but the short version is that after we receive all of our Radiant Heart Auxiliary training, we are sent out into the real world to tour the land, looking for those in need, and aiding them as best as we are suited. Which is usually martially. The idea is that training itself is not enough. We must learn from the best school there is: genuine experience. It also serves to...temper youthful enthusiasm. And for those for whom this task proves too tasking, it allows them to discover their own limits on their own. Many an Auxiliary squire withdraws from the Order, and walks a different path. Or, well, die. In my case, it was simply happenstance of the misfortune I came across that brought me north along the Sword Coast, and eventually to Icewind Dale. It does not snow, even in the winter where I come from. Part of me wished to see what all the fuss was all about. Now that I am here, well, I must say it has lost some of it's charm," the Squire said with an amused and knowing twinkle in her eye.

"But I ramble on about myself. Tell me more of your origins. I would know more about those I travel with. You too, Lady Farwalker. I am sure you have tales aplenty to share," the young woman finished, beaming with a truly interested grin.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:15, Fri 27 May 2022.

Apologies over religious criticisms were simply waved off without concern as Mallory shifted to lean herself against the side of her conjured sleigh.  "No, I appreciate your candor.  You've no need to be reticent with me, Squire.  I come from place where everything is couched in innuendo and entente and it is exhausting.  I agree with you as well, in a sense, as we may have different ideas of what luck is."

As Khulekani allowed one topic of magical discussion to ease by the wayside, so too did Mallory in turn.  Debates and studies of the varied magical forces had been carried out for thousands of years with no real conclusions in the first place, let alone in recent centuries when the very fabric of their world and the Weave itself had been reshaped by Plane-sundering events.  Tell of the Squire's upbringing and misadventures bore a much greater point of interest.  Sympathy as well given what had brought Mallory herself northbound.

"A noble task, albeit braced on all sides by brutal pragmatism by design." she observed with an idle drum of her thumb at the side of her chin.  The Errantry Tour would fortify the resolve and abilities of those who succeeded, while those who failed would be weeded out for their lack of capability or die trying.  No matter the fate of the individual squire, the Order itself benefited, as did the population the Order hoped to serve.  Very efficient.  Callous, but efficient.

Prompting for her own tale brought a long, deep, shoulder-curling sigh that told plenty in and of itself.  She'd already found it in herself to reveal the matter to Rhydd prior; to speak of it again would perhaps be easier for her spirit to contend with since she'd already broken the seal once.  "Misfortune, but not happenstance.  Mallory Bonheur of Neverwinter: heiress of the Bonheur name, as our name is just about all we have left at this point."  Fallen nobility was a far from uncommon element, but it was never a good tale either.  "My family gained our title in gratitude for our works to improve and protect the lives of Neverwinter's citizens.  Nobles raised of the common cloth rather than cut from it.  Even from childhood I've used my magic, my innate ability of foresight and divination, to follow that road of honorable service.  And since childhood it's worked wonders."

As she spoke, Mallory's tone grew wistful.  Her dark eyes gazed out at the skies with a warmth that defied the weariness they usually carried, that shone with a gleam of happiness despite the heavy rings around them.  Such softness that came as she thought back of family, of her beautiful city on the ocean cliffs... which made the abrupt shift back to a colder tone all the more pointed as she lowered her gaze back to Khulekani, and back to the reality of the present moment.  "Right until it didn't.  Decades of work from my grandfather and parents, the pride and future not only of me and my siblings, the well-being of those we employed.  Poof.  Gone, just like that.  All it took was a single mistake of my behalf, which set another in motion, and another, and now I'm here in the blasted wasteland that is Icewind Dale.  Scattered to the winds just like the rest of my siblings in hopes of scraping together some means of rebuilding the home I ruined."

Hm.  Nope, that wasn't any easier to recount at all, Mallory inwardly realized.  Though she took some refuge in sarcasm as she recounted her woes, self-deprecation was a venom that left a bitter sting on her tongue.  It made her immediately wish for a strong drink to wash it away.  "My uncle was allegedly up in Bryn Shander managing a shipping office.  Imports and exports, you know.  So I'd hoped to find employ with him, but he's apparently touring the Ten-Towns as far as I can tell, which leaves me out in the cold.  Literally.  Running about being chased by Dragons, chasing serial killers, scrounging for pocket change amid all this other gallivanting nonsense my life has devolved into.  Misfortune brought me here and thus far has been a reliably constant companion... though I certainly prefer all your company by far."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:50, Fri 27 May 2022.

Reghed nomads. As Rhydd ventured deeper into the forest, signs of the tribesfolk's presence started cropping up. An abandoned campsite, which they had taken great care to cover up, and fresh tracks from their hunts, and now, above the treetops Rhydd could spot rising smoke. While the wildlife was declining all over Icewind Dale, Hopwood, along with the Lonelywoods, contained the last remnants. Pieces of flint for arrows and stakes they used for tents laid in halfway buried in the snow. They had moved, but someone was still patrolling this perimeter.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 13:47, Sun 26 June 2022.

In reply to DM Bears (msg # 17):

It looked to Rhydd that there had been no blood shed as a result of the meeting between the smaller group of hunters and trappers and the Reghedmen.

But he was still unsure whether the small group had been taken prisoner or forced to go with the Reghedmen against their will. Once he knew the answer to that question, he would return to the others and report what he had found.

And so it was that he stayed on the trail of the Reghedmen and their new companions, staying alert as best he could, in case the barbarians had left people behind to watch their back-trail.

It gave him considerable comfort to know that Astre was up in the sky above him -- flying over-watch, as it were . . .

Reghedmen, yes. Sneaking up to a nearby tree to peer down the hillside, Rhydd was allowed a glimpse of their encampment properly nestled amid the evergreens. Tents were erected in two concentric rings, with the larger tents being near the middle. The tribe had several fires going, and hulking figures clad in thick hide and covered by hoods and robes either sat nearby or went about their usual errands. Only, several of them were hunched, larger than any ordinary man, and walked with an inhuman gait. More apelike. To the west of Rhydd, outside the perimeter, were several empty sleds clustered together. To the south, near a tent comprising the outermost ring were half-a-dozen cages, of which one was occupied by a Halfling. The specific traits were hard to discern from a distance.

The fires weren't just for warmth, Rhydd could tell. The smell of cooked meat reached him by the grace of a soft breeze.

But more pressingly, Rhydd could see there were guards around. Patrolling.

Astre would've frankly preferred to remain in the sky, though that bothersome hawk had other ideas... the last thing he needed was another winged interloper getting in the way of his investigations!  Thus the Tressym kept lower amid the treetops with light gliding flits from one set of boughs to another, still able to keep an eye on Rhydd's surroundings for him.  Though when the Reghedmen camp came into view he hunkered down in the snowy branches in long, silent scrutiny of the scene laid out ahead of them.

I'm almost afraid to ask, but can Astre tell by scent what kind of meat is wafting?  He has Advantage on Perception checks based on smell.

Also, how many tents and visible Reghedmen are there?  If not an exact number, then at least does it look like there's more tents than people present, or vice versa?

---

Astre's Perception (w/ Advantage) to smell what is cooking [8 19]: True to suspicion, this was no animal meat roasting over the fires, but the meat of humanoids.

---

Rhydd's Perception to determine the nature of the strangely hunched figures (DC 14) along with the headcount of the tribe [12]: The figures, while large and bulky, were wrapped thoroughly in hide and cloth, and deliberately so.

They, along with the members who appeared completely ordinary, numbered somewhere between thirty and forty. Considerable, but not too large of a roster when it came to Reghedmen.

Rhydd did not look what he was seeing, not at all. It seemed likely that the caged Halfling was the same one who had made the smaller set of tracks that the archer had been noticing, along and along. And there were lots of barbarians in the camp -- likely too many for a head-on attack to free them, even if everyone who was waiting back by the road agreed to take part.

~~Well, first things first,~~ he thought to himself.

~~I need to rejoin the others and, together with Astre, give them a report on what we have seen. Then we can make a plan as to how to attempt a rescue -- for I feel certain that is what will come of this.~~

Rhydd appeared from amid the evergreens, approaching the Eastway.

---

Rhydd's Survival check on Reghedmen [24]: This was a tribe of the Wolf, evident by their choice of hide and insignia. True to their namesake, they were known for their ferocious utilization of wolves to hunt their prey. But in this camp there were none.

Out of all the tribes, they numbered the fewest while simultaneously being the least amicable toward civilized folk. They had hit rough times half-a-decade prior, lost their King, and had, under the guidance of their shamans, collectively turned to Malar, god of the hunt, bestial savagery, and bloodlust.

Mallory's History on Reghedmen [23]: Even before the Frostmaiden struck, the Reghedmen's numbers were dwindling. Particularly the Tribe of the Wolf and the Tribe of the Tiger. The latter attempted to seek refuge in Bremen but was denied by suspicious townsfolk.

As a rule of thumb, the Reghedmen were a reasonable people with a history of treating guests kindly. That, however, much depended on Tribe and circumstance.

Rhydd had a serious look on his face when he walked out of the tree line and approached his companions.

"The small group that left the road and ventured off into the woods were hunters and trappers," he said, getting right to the point and beginning his explanation of what he had seen, and what he surmised.

"They have been captured by Reghedmen -- which, as you may know, are barbarians here in the Far North. The Reghedmen are split into various tribes, and do not answer to an overall leader or chief."

"This is the Tribe of the Wolf -- which has fallen upon hard times recently and has turned to the Way of the Beast -- becoming more violent and feral than was the case previously."

"By a quick count, I saw somewhere between thirty and forty Reghedmen and allies in their camp -- including some large, hulking figures that were so covered up with furs and clothing that I could not glean what manner of creature they were."

Rhydd paused and shook his head, his expression becoming even more grim. "One set of footprints among the hunters and trappers that I spoke of was small, and belonged to a child -- or a Halfling or Gnome."

"I saw a cage on the far side of the camp that contained a Halfling . . . and a big pot that appeared to contain some sort of stew, simmering over the fire."

"I fear the worst."

The outdoorsman glanced around. "Has Astre returned? Obviously he had a different vantage point than me, so he may have seen more -- or at least different things -- than did I."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:10, Sun 12 June 2022.

Rhydd's eventual return was a relief, though the mention of Reghedmen hunters being so nearby did little to raise Mallory's spirits.  She'd done her homework when she realized she'd end up heading northward and knew some of the local flavor of nomads; they seemed akin to the Uthgardt who hunted the southern portions of the Sword Coast in many ways.  It wouldn't surprise her if there was some shared heritage far back in history than she'd cared to read up on at the time.

"Last I've heard of the state of the nomad tribes, many of them have begun to fall into decline.  It's not surprising at all they'd be holed up this close to civilization with the way things have been throughout Icewind Dale." she noted.  The mention that the tribe in question - the Wolf - had turned to a particular form of Beastial worship and featured hulking figures in their number brought an unsettled scowl to Mallory's features.  "They've taken to Malar?  Really?  Gods above, they really are desperate... with that Werebear we encountered before, it makes me fear an uptick in Lycanthropy if their worship is reciprocated."

"Has Astre returned?"

The young noble shook her hooded head briefly.  "He's on his way; he's wont to follow behind and cover your back on the return.  It'll be any moment--" she began, only to trail off quite promptly as her distant Tressym did indeed come within range even while still far away amid the trees.  Just close enough for their minds to link together as Astre poured free what he'd seen and learned.

The others had seen Mallory fall into such fugue moments before though it was a new sight for Khulekani.  All at once her eyes grew dark as her pupils expanded outward to overtake her irises and fill their sockets entirely until they were nothing but blackness.  A moment where her wits and thoughts were taken by visions not her own, whether it was foresight or mental communication alike.  "Oh... oh gods, no..."  It said a lot about what she learned, however, that her face promptly drained of all color and she clapped her gloved hands tight about her mouth as she curled over in place, bent with a heaving retch again and again.  Despite how much her body tried to vomit she forced herself to hold it all in and choke it back down - it wouldn't do to put such noise and scent to the wind.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:58, Sun 12 June 2022.

"Then I shall endeavor not to hold back my opinions overmuch. I too appreciate the honest, straightforward path. Life is too finite as it is. Why use a hundred words when five will do?" Khulekani chuckled in reply.

"Aye. I've noticed the very same thing. But the system apparently works. I for one have not seen a member of the senior order that was, say, cowardly, sadistic, or greedy. I suspect this crucible burns away such people. There are much easier ways of earning wealth and dishing out socially-acceptable violence, after all. And the Order itself does not wield much in the way of civil authority, so the power-hungry probably have other avenue's to pursue," she shrugged, surprisingly casual about the whole affair that might ultimately lead to her death.

When Mallory began her story of misfortune, Khulekani made sure to stop any fidgeting, and pay full attention. This was important, personal, and not something to be discussed casually. Indeed, the young woman was surprised the mage had shared so much.

"I...will not pry if you do not wish to reveal more at this time. But if you want to share the entire sad tale at some point, know that I will listen. Sometimes it is good to unburden your soul, even if the wound is fresh. If not, I completely understand. In either event, I am truly sorry for your misfortune, and I wish you better days to come. And please, if there is anything I can do to restore your family or station, please do not hesitate to ask," the squire said with a sad frown, but earnest and honest eyes looking back intensely at Mallory.

However, any further conversation on the matter would have to wait until later, as Rhydd's return brought some unexpected news.

"Ilmater's mercy...we have to help them!" the aspiring Paladin cried in alarm when she heard the culinary fate that awaited these innocents.

"I do not know the martial prowess of the barbarians, though the rumors say they are a fierce and hearty people. But forty is too much to handle, even if we struck them by surprise...Hm...Master Maldhon, if we created a large enough distraction, do you have the capability of sneaking in and freeing those people? I'd rather not shed blood if we can avoid it. Even for people who have turned to the behavior of beasts in order to survive," she asked, hand falling to her sword-hilt instinctively.

When Mallory began retching violently, Khulekani put a steadying hand on her shoulder.

"Lady Bonheur! What ails you?" Khulekani asked, forehead crinkling with worry.

It took another few moments of stifling her own reflex under Khulekani's concern before Mallory was able to breathe freely again and finally lowered her hands from her mouth.  What color had begun to return to her cheeks was decidedly green from revulsion.  "Rhydd's fears are correct: they're cannibals.  There's no mistaking the smell of their cooking..." she hiccuped as her eyes slowly reverted back to normal with the return of her own senses.  Not too far away, Astre sat perched on a snowy branch like a gargoyle in sentry.

As she'd been able to compartmentalize the way of things with breaking down the Ice Trolls' bodies, so too had Mallory learned in her studies to distance oneself from putting too much value in her own Humanity.  Humans and similar folk of mankind had never been anywhere near the top of the food chain, after all, and their bodies were often components of spellcraft.  She could always tell herself that, surely.  But the fact that cooked human flesh had an almost appetizing aroma to it that, when paired with the knowledge of the truth, drove up such base disgust in her that she couldn't stand it.  The juxtaposition staggered her.

It spoke well to Khulekani's nature that her first thought was to move to the rescue.  Mallory herself was of the same desire and latched to that motion to try and distract her stomach from going into uproar again.  "The tribe isn't all hunters and warriors; their own people are among the camp.  Innocents of a sort.  It's one thing to strike against those who bear violence but we cannot, in good conscience, raise harm to non-combatants." A stealthy approach certainly seemed to be the best option.  "I can create quite a few very large distractions, harmless or not as need be - but I think it would be best to first attempt to go by entirely unnoticed.  Slip in, free this Halfling captive, and spirit her away quick as can be."

She raised her dark-ringed eyes to Rhydd.  "I can render any of us invisible for a time.  Do you know how to quietly contend with locks, Rhydd?" There were still options available if he didn't, but she didn't enjoy the prospect...

Rhydd nodded his agreement when Squire Khulekani exclaimed that they had to help those who had been taken captive by the barbarians.  Well . . . at least those who were not already beyond helping.

The archer's frown deepened when Mallory confirmed -- both by her own reaction, and later, by words -- what he had suspected to be the case regarding what was contained in the barbarians' stew-pot. He reasoned that that information must have come to the wizardess by way of Astre, and he found himself wondering if it would be possible for him to form such a useful bond with a creature whose senses were more developed than his own.

Soon enough the discussion had turned to how they might best accomplish the freeing of the Halfling.

"I agree that we cannot hope to prevail by force alone," he said.

"As to the sneaking in and freeing the Halfing from the cage . . ." Rhydd took a moment and thoughtfully stroked his chin-whiskers.

"Although I am well-versed in woods-craft and the ways of stealth, my success there is not a given. I was lucky to not be detected during my scouting efforts."

"But I noticed that the barbarians had scouts of their own out on patrol. Even worse, although this is known as the Wolf Tribe of Reghedmen, I saw no Wolves inside their camp. I did see the prints of their paws in the snow in the area where the hunters were first taken captive."

"Thus, both Humans and Wolves patrol the forest. Making our way back to the camp undetected is certainly possible, but it should not be assumed."

"But . . ." he added with a shake of his head, "even if we are successful in that respect, I fear that I have neither the tools nor the skills needed to open a mechanical lock, if the Halfling's cage is secured in that fashion."

Rhydd thought for a moment longer, then added "I should also say that although the caged Halfling -- whom I assume to be a member of the ill-fated hunting party -- was the only captive whom I glimpsed, there could be others. Given my concern about being discovered by patrolling Reghedmen or Wolves, I did not linger o'erlong near the camp."

He turned to Lady Mallory and said "Mayhap Astre could provide more information on that point."

Given that Rhydd seemed loathe to mingle amid civilization longer than he absolutely needed to, it wasn't much of a surprise he didn't fare well with mechanics.  That gave Mallory reason to sigh in dismay, though not for the obvious reason expected.  "I was afraid of that.  I actually am rather handy with locks... part and parcel with the family trade when bolted shipments come through and nobody knows where the damned keys have gone." she groaned as she ran her hand up through her hair a ways.  There was no way the likes of Khulekani or Farwalker could slip in unnoticed, even when made invisible with magic, which meant it was likely up to her.  "I suppose that leaves it up to me then.  Hopefully to get in and out unnoticed, and with you lot nearby to raise a ruckus if I'm rumbled."

"...There could be others. Given my concern about being discovered by patrolling Reghedmen or Wolves, I did not linger o'erlong near the camp. Mayhap Astre could provide more information on that point."

Astre's initial bit of scouting had been more focused on making sure nobody sneaked up on Rhydd, so the actual appraisal of the camp's features and occupants was vague.  Mallory nodded in agreement on the suggestion and glanced over her Familiar's way, where the distant feline likewise nodded in turn.  "He says he'll do it.  Honestly, he practically sounds eager.  Astre's always had a daredevil streak in him..." All cats did, really, but sneaking into a camp of starving hunters was a precarious place for any small animal to go even with his stealthy skills.  Mallory looked back to their sleds and beasts of burden as a grimace passed her painted lips once more.  "I'm loathe to say it but, if we are put in a bind, it might be worth it to offer them Wifni.  It's a terrible fate but... well... perhaps they can be reasoned with to some measure if we can give them what they truly need."

---

She may not be multi-classing as a Rogue, but Mallory still has a decent Stealth bonus and +5 to Thieves' Tools.  ^^;

As for Astre, he's ready to go scouting again for more information whenever need be.  Stealthily so, so as not to be noticed for as long as he can help it.

The forest was perilous. That bothersome Falcon made sure of that, and it made its awareness of the Tressym known to its vicinity with a loud and high shriek. While Astre tried his best to navigate the treeways briskly, the Falcon had swooped down alongside him to stay on his tail. And although Astre could beat it to the Reghed camp, it would arrive in short turn behind him. Then the success of Astre's assignment would rest partly on how much the Falcon was dissuaded by Reghedmen.

---

Astre's Stealth check [15] against the Falcon's Perception check (Advantage due to Keen Sight and Disadvantage due to Dim Light cancel out) [17] to navigate the forest undetected: Falcon is made aware of Astre's presence.

@Mallory
Unless Astre comes up with a way to shake the Falcon, have him roll that last Stealth check at Disadvantage.

Though he'd hoped to avoid the Falcon by keeping amid the boughs on his return trip, it seemed the bird's earlier dissuasion had been mostly due to Rhydd's presence more than anything else.  Astre snarled in upset as the bothersome bird made a few dives each time he bounded from one tree to another, only able to get refuge when he could huddle close to the trunk.  The Tressym fixed his harasser with a glare and arched up, wings flared and fangs bared, in his best effort to look as ferocious as he could.

---

I'd actually like to try two things; an Intimidate check to scare off the Falcon first.  If that fails/provokes the Falcon and it continues to harry Astre, then I'd like to next attempt an Acrobatics check to try and get it to crash itself into some branches when it swoops in.

Also, I'm assuming this is all happening further than 100' away so Mallory or others in the Party can't assist in some manner?

Astre - Intimidate
Mallory Bonheur rolled 14 using 1d20+1

Astre - Acrobatics, just in case
Mallory Bonheur rolled 11 using 1d20+2
This message was last edited by the player at 22:07, Tue 14 June 2022.

Astre's startle display rustled the Falcon. It braked with its wings, letting out another cry, giving Astre the opportunity to lose it. However, territorial disputes could be deathly important matters to wildlife, and the Falcon was committed to its role as warden, so soon after Astre had shaken it, it reappeared behind him.

It did not help that the bird knew this weald better than Astre did. Speeding up in increasingly more daring attempts to feint the Falcon into a crash course yielded little return — when the Tressym thought he had managed a particularly canny maneuver, no thud, rustle, or shriek followed to confirm his success. And then the Falcon appeared right behind him yet again.

---

Astre's Intimidation [14] to scare off the Falcon (DC 15): Fail.

Astre's Acrobatics [11] against the Falcon's Acrobatics to get it to crash[20]: Fail.

Mallory:

Also, I'm assuming this is all happening further than 100' away so Mallory or others in the Party can't assist in some manner?

Yup, this is definitely happening more than 100' away.

It wasn't the first time that Astre had found himself in the unenviable position of having to contend with wild animals.  He seemed like one himself to an outside glance but his greater intellect left him frustrated with his feral ilk more often than not.  That binary stubbornness beasts held was, despite being far simpler, often more troublesome than dealing with intelligent creatures who could waffle and reconsider.

Astre dipped and dove and put his feline agility to work as he pulled a particularly quick turn around the trunk of a tree.  It was one thing to bank with wings alone, but another entirely as he reached out to snag his claws into the bark and whip himself around the other side all at once in an effort to shake his pursuer.  If the Falcon brought its talons to bear on him he'd have no choice but to retreat!  Rather than soar off amid the boughs like he had been, however, the Tressym ran straight down the tree he'd latched to and into the deep, gathered snow amid its roots with a puff as he buried himself in.

---

Not sure that Acrobatics check I rolled is going to cut it for another crash attempt unless the bird rolls poorly, but that's a Nat 20 on Stealth if Astre is able break line of sight enough to attempt to Hide.

Astre - Acrobatics
Mallory Bonheur rolled 9 using 1d20+2

Astre - Stealth
Mallory Bonheur rolled 24 using 1d20+4
This message was last edited by the player at 18:26, Wed 15 June 2022.

While he had failed to ground or fully stop its chase, Astre had beat the Falcon to the camp and was allowed a moment of quiet before it caught up.

There was a lot going on in the Reghedmen's camp and thus difficult to gather the requested information at a glance — parts of the tribe were inside their tents, while guards, of which Astre could count at least three, patrolled the immediate area. Those were, for all Astre could see, the monstrous kind of tribesman. He counted eight of them in total, with five being inside the camp and one being directly beneath him. The rest looked like proper humans, though many bore spears, axes, and full hide armor. They also had a stash of shields by one of the tents.

The inhuman tribesman below had a short yet billowing tail, red at the base and brown at the ends, hanging out from its cloak and barely long enough to brush against the snow where it walked.

The caged Halfling was being let out by some of the human tribesmen. They had used a hammer to dislodge the pin for the door, and now tied the Halfling — a red-haired, young fellow with a bulbous, or perhaps swollen, face — to a rope by the waist. Then they handed him his own bundle of rope, a trap, a smaller cage.

The irksome Falcon landed behind Astre, cried, and spread its wings to signal its aggravation. The monstrous lookout's head darted upward at the noise, revealing the face of Wolverine beneath its hood. It had, however, only seen the Falcon and not Astre, so thought little of it and continued on its way soon after.

And then the Falcon decided enough was enough and leaped for Astre with its talons.

---

Astre's Perception to gather information on the Reghedmen's camp [6]: See post.

Astre's Stealth [11] to stay hidden, contested by the Werewolverine's Perception [6]: Success.

Initiative!

• Astre [9]
• Falcon [6]

This message was last edited by the GM at 22:22, Wed 15 June 2022.

Enough bounding amid snowbanks and weaving past trunks gave Astre enough headway to feel he'd lost the Falcon in time.  First ravens, then imps, now birds of prey... a detective's work was never without conflict, it seemed.  He set immediately to his skulking to learn what he could and took keen notice of the Halfling seemingly being let free?  At first he fretted they'd been too late and he was bound for the cooking pot himself, but it almost looked as if he'd been set to a task of his own.  Not dinner but slave labor?  Both?

Further investigation failed, however, as that foul fowl returned to harry him once more.  The flash of talons was more than Astre cared to contend with though.  His own claws couldn't compare and he instead bounded back with a swift leap and flare of his wings to kick up a surge of powder into the Falcon's face.  With a deft twist he flapped along as swiftly as he could, out across the snow in a swift arc toward the western tree line low amid the trees.

---

Astre can't use the Attack Action and has no resources to draw on from his surroundings, so the start of combat is the end of his misadventures.  Full retreat.  If the Falcon is already in melee range then Astre will just have to hope his 12 AC/5 HP can eat an Opportunity Attack.

Astre - Run Away!  Movement and Dash Action for 80' of movement per round.
He'll take a circuitous route away from the Party at first and move amid the trees to try and make it as hard as possible for the Falcon to follow him, or for any scouts who might spot him to trace him back to the Party.  Astre's Flight and Ground speeds are both 40', so he can switch freely between them if as necessary to make the Falcon's pursuit as difficult as possible.

Now, with the Falcon's newfound intent to kill, the fate of the chase was determined. Astre was fast, but the Falcon was faster, and no matter how he deftly he dipped and dove, the Falcon closed in. This was the Falcon's forest, and Astre would soon learn it the hard way.

When he swiveled his head to keep an eye on the distance, the Falcon was right behind him.

---

The Falcon's flying speed is 60'. It is thus does not have to Dash to keep up next round and can use its Action on an Attack.

Speed was the name of the game at that point and, once Astre felt confident that he'd evaded the possibility of leading the Reghedmen back to his companions, he set about in the effort to lead the Falcon back instead with all haste.

---

Astre's Movement + Dash Action speed is 80' per round, so he should be able to outrun the Falcon by a fair margin if the Falcon is only using 60' movement and an Attack Action?  Wouldn't the Falcon only be able to attack if it also Dashed in order to close the distance into melee and then used its Reaction to Opportunity Attack each time Astre tried to move away?

Regardless, Astre is booking it straight back to Mallory at this point in hopes of either hitting the 100' telepathy range or simply line of sight of the Party, whichever comes first.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:22, Thu 16 June 2022.

Another few seconds of the mad dash ensued. Then Astre was met with a faceful of talons.

---

Let's set the distance at 1000'. The Falcon is able to deliver him an Attack every round starting from the second. 1000/80 ≈ 12 (-1 one already elapsed round, so 11) rounds to get to the party (with 40' to go, but it's at least close enough to be within Telepathy range and receive assistance). This means he has to dodge 7 more Attacks (of Opportunity). I have decided to use the Hawk statblock here, which puts the Falcon's damage at 1d1. If you prefer we can roll the series instead of playing this out round-by-round.

Falcon's Talon Attack of Opportunity for next round (little changes if Astre chooses to Dodge instead of Dash as this can then become a normal Attack instead of an Attack of Opportunity) [22]: Hit.

Astre takes 1 Slashing Damage.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:28, Thu 16 June 2022.

Astre HP: 4/5 Remaining

If it's nothing but a straight chase scene, then there's nothing to be done than just run the rolls all at once and hope for the best.  I'm unclear if Astre could attempt any skill checks using the environment to interfere with the Falcon's pursuit or try to Hide again, given the earlier three-strikes situation.

Ideally Astre would move in a way that puts as many obstacles as possible between him and the Falcon, forcing it to burn extra movement or end up in positions where it can't be in melee range with him every round.  Going through underbrush where it can reach him while flying, using tree trunks and roots for cover, etc. 

A flash of sharp talons quite adept at tearing apart woodland critters caught Astre's back, though he bit back a yowl even as a flurry of glittering star-stuff flowed from the wound rather than blood.  Despite appearances he wasn't a mortal creature, after all.  But it still hurt!  Determination alone kept his voice silent - his cry might've alerted his companions to come help him, but it could just as easily alert enemies who could bring the group harm.

Like it or not, he was on his own and had to ensure he didn't endanger the others just to try and save his own fur.

As the Falcon wheeled around in preparation for another dive at his back, Astre leaped along to a younger, more slender tree bowed heavy with snow.  A sharp kick rebounded off its more supple trunk to bring another shower of powder down as he glided away amid larger, neighboring trees in hopes of cover.

---

Movement: 40'
Action: Hide!  Trees, snow, anything that can break line of sight.  If Stealth fails then Astre will switch to Acorbatics checks next.

Mallory Bonheur rolled 18 using 1d20+4

The Falcon carried no lexicon detailing which creatures bled and which twinkled when hurt, so was not at all phased by the result of its attack. But the cloud of snow it had to fly through did wonders to disorient it. In a moment, the intruder was ahead of it, and in the next it wasn't. And so it kept up its flight in the belief that Astre had shot ahead.

---

Falcon's Perception [10] against Astre's Stealth [18]: Astre successfully breaks line of sight.

Combat ends.

Astre watched, hunkered down amid the piles of snow and tree roots, as the Falcon continued off on its own then-futile pursuit.  For a good while he did the one thing cats were most exceptional at and sat silent, still, and steady as a stone statue.  The Falcon could quickly close the gap on him if he was spotted again so he had to wait first and ensure there was plenty of space between them first before he set off once again.

---

Once the Falcon is no longer within sight, Astre will continue at half speed back to the Party in order to remain Hidden.

Astre and the Falcon lost each other in the vastness of the forest, and after while Astre emerged from the treetops and onto the Eastway.

Throughout Astre's absence Mallory had busied herself with keeping a sharp eye out on their surroundings.  As best she could in the gloom of perpetual twilight with her lantern dimmed down, at least.  The last thing they needed was to advertise their presence to any and everything that might've been skulking about in the snow; she still hadn't gotten over how readily that Dragon had appeared out of the empty sky.  But her focus shifted as she suddenly flinched and gripped at her shoulder as if taken by a phantom pain, then looked swiftly over to where Astre returned into view and range of their supernatural connection.

"Astre!  My poor darling, you're hurt!  What happened?" she held her arms out for her beloved Familiar to fly into; an invitation promptly accepted by the battered Tressym.  All that fleeing through boughs and brush had his fur in quite a state of disarray, to say nothing of the gash down his shoulder where he still "bled" wisps of energy into the air.

Mallory's eyes once more shifted black as experiences not her own took her.  The bond she and Astre shared was more than just a conversation between each others' minds; telepathy shared an array of sights, sensations, and feelings beyond conscious thought.  So fresh was the pain of being clawed by the Falcon that, while she was wholly unharmed, she felt Astre's wound as if she'd been struck herself.

"Rrrrwwl?" Astre purred as he rested himself into Mallory's chest and shoulder.

"You did wonderfully.  Thank you so much, Astre."

"Mmrm."

"Yes, I'm sure it would be quite an intimidating scar someday.  Just rest now, please.  You need to keep up your strength." she urged as, with a little hoist, she eased Astre to wind his way into her hood to rest about her shoulders as usual.  Once he was settled in with his chin rested over his folded paws, she turned her attention to her companions once more.

"Poor thing was attacked by some bird of prey on his way to and from the camp.  Apparently the Reghedmen saw the bird but didn't do anything about it, so either its their own hunting bird or they're not so starving as to grab at any possible source of meat that comes in their reach." Mallory explained with a sigh.  Which meant their turn to cannibalism might've been a case of corruption rather than necessity... even worse, by her measure.  At least being on the barest threads of survival could demand such a horrible choice to be made.  "There's definitely Lycanthropes among the Reghedmen's number though.  At least three or four; it was difficult to make out.

More to the point, however; they've removed the Halfling captive from his cage and led him by tether away.  They gave him a rope, trap, and a smaller cage to carry; it might be they're forcing him to labor for them rather than just saving him for the stew pot.  Which means they might be moving away from the camp itself; we could have an opportunity to get the better of a smaller group rather than contend with the camp."

"Ilmater's mercy..." Khulekani cursed upon hearing Mallory's words.

"Even if they have broken off from the main group, those innocents that remain must still be saved. If we dawdle too much, we might lose more to the pot!" the Squired cried, clearly agitated.

"I know that snow lies heavy on this land, but tell me...can frozen trees burn?" she asked, turning to ask Rhydd, some small idea beginning to take root.

Mallory couldn't help but grimace a little as she shared a look with Astre.  The scent of Humanoid flesh set to cook still lingered fresh in both their shared memories; it left her with a significantly less optimistic feeling about their chances of saving others.  She was uncertain there were any to be saved in the first place.

"Before we go do anything hasty--" she interjected at the first mention of setting something on fire, which would be all too telling an action one way or another "-- there's no certainty there even are any other innocents left alive, and the camp holds too many Reghedmen to dare challenge.  Even before counting in the Lycanthropes.  We'd be vastly outnumbered and end up in cages ourselves.

But we do know the Halfling fellow yet lives and is being moved out of the camp with a smaller number of Reghedmen.  If we're to make a difference and save anyone, I feel it would be best to focus on him first.  He would be able to tell us more of the camp and any others captured as well."

Certainly a more cautious approach even if it did involve potentially challenging a small band of barbarian hunters.  But their odds of success were better against a small group than a giant camp.  Mallory's perpetually-tired gaze bounced among her companions to gauge their feelings before it settled on their dour huntsman.  "What do you think, Rhydd?"
This message was last edited by the player at 21:37, Sat 18 June 2022.

"Don't we need silvered weapons to inflict harm on lycanthropes?" Rhydd asked. "If so, I have nothing that will hurt them."

"Between that and the large number of barbarians, I believe that our only reasonable chance at success is attempting to free the Halfling, as Lady Mallory suggests," he said, nodding his head at the wizardess.

"If we can accomplish that, then mayhap we can learn more. If he -- or she -- is the only survivor of the hunting party, that is one thing. If there are others . . ." his voice trailed off.

Rhydd shrugged his shoulders. "Let us turn our efforts to first freeing the Halfling. We can make no further plans beyond that, at this point."

"Don't we need silvered weapons to inflict harm on lycanthropes?  If so, I have nothing that will hurt them."

"Indeed.  Mundane arms won't harm them in the slightest, though magicked weapons and spells will do just fine.  That overpriced bow would be rather handy right now." Mallory muttered.  There were plenty of stories of an entire town being ravaged by a single Lycanthrope who'd gone on a frenzy, entirely due to nobody being properly armed to fend it off before sunrise.  A terrifying notion.  Though it did raise a curiosity as to why the Reghedmen beastmen hadn't felt a need to overwhelm the nearby towns...

"I actually have a spell that could imbue you with magic for a short time.  It's a bit shaky, but it has a hell of a kick to it.  Better than being defenseless in the face of beasts.  Let's consider that as a last resort though."

"As part of our studies in battling dark creatures, we learn much of the vulnerabilities of those cursed with Lycanthropy. Silver, or full magical weapons, or Wolf's-Bane are all useful weapons to have in one's arsenal. I am blessed enough to be in possession of a weapon that can harm Lycanthropes, so you need not fear for my safety should we come to blows with these Reghedmen. Isiliva has always been a faithful companion..." Khulekani said solemnly, but patting the hilt of her sword with old familiarity.

"Seizing the opportunity of freeing the Halfling is all well and good, but we do not know the fate of his companions! We cannot assume that all of them have been stewed. It would be an unforgivable act to leave them to such an act of savagery should they live! That is why even if we are discovered in battle with the party around the Halfling, we still need to find a way to rescue any others if they live, agree?" the Squire said, eyes burning with that passionate fervor once again.

There was a reason this young woman had chosen to walk this path, after all.

"Nobody is saying we leave anyone to an ill-fate, Squire.  This is merely a case of 'he who chases two rabbits catches neither' at the moment." The trio of would-be do-gooders covered quite the spectrum of approaches: Khulekani with her impassioned righteousness, Rhydd with utilitarian common sense, and Mallory herself with raw pragmatism.  All hoped for the same goal, but getting on the same wavelength was the hard part.  "Let us focus ourselves on what we can more assuredly accomplish first: helping this Halfling fellow from his predicament.  Once we've done that, then we can figure out what we can do about any others still in need of help."

There was, unfortunately, precious little time to devise any coherent plans to handle the situation at large.  With no sure way of knowing what the Halfling was being set to do outside his cage and the risk of wandering patrols catching wind of the Party, playing things by ear was a necessity.  If all else failed, at least they had mounts and sleds to be able to outrun any pursuers with...

Mallory pointed southward with a gesture of her lantern rod.  "The Reghedmen were showing the Halfling gentleman in that direction when they loosed him from his cage.  He was quite literally being kept on a short leash, so they're presumably taking him outside the camp."  With a quick snap of her gloved fingers her vibrant red coat shimmered and turned snowy white as a form of impromptu camouflage, just as she'd done prior when fleeing the White Dragon by the lakeside.  "I'm reluctant to send Astre out scouting again when he's wounded, so let's do what we can to track these Reghedmen ourselves.  If we're fortunate, we may be able to spirit their captive away right out from under their noses.  If not, well..." her gaze shifted to Khulekani's sword with a dour look.  Violence was very much not her forte nor desire, but sometimes it couldn't be avoided.

---

Prestidigitation to change the color of Mallory's cloak.  I know there's no mechanical benefit to doing so, but it just makes sense to not be standing out more than she already does.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:22, Tue 21 June 2022.

"I'm pleased to hear that you have a wepon that can harm Lycanthropes, Squire Khulekani," Rhydd replied, "although I hope that you do not have to employ it for that purpose . . . not here and now, I mean to say."

Glancing at Mallory, he said "I am in full agreement that we should not put Astre at risk again, so soon after he suffered his wounds."

Rising to his feet, he brushed off some loose snow that had gathered on his clothing. "I see no reason to delay,"</blue> he said.

"Let us be off."

"Aye. Let us be off. Time is of the essence..." the squire agreed.

Rhydd knew these woods better than she, and it was Mallory's Familiar that had done the initial scouting, so she was more than happy to follow them. Closely of course. Any sudden battle, and she would be the most equipped one to deal with it. She was sure the woodsman could handle himself in a scrape, but it was clear he preferred to keep his distance.

And while she tried to adopt the quiet manner in which the others made their way through the trees,  Khulekani had to admit that she might as well have ridden on her steed clanging a dinner bell. She was not trained for stealthy movements. Indeed, quite the opposite. She was supposed to be an open and honest beacon of virtue, dragging wickedness into the light. She was not what you would call a lithe person. She was all muscle and heavy weaponry. The links of her chain-mail didn't help either. If there was ever an armor that rivaled full plate for noisiest protection, it would be the chain.

Still, if she couldn't be stealthy, at least she could keep her eyes open, ready for any trouble that might befall their little rescue party.


OOC Mechanics
10:45, Today: Khulekani Kumalo rolled 2 using 2d20, dropping the highest dice only.  Stealth with Disadvantage.
10:49, Today: Khulekani Kumalo rolled 26 using 1d20+6.  Perception.

Back in the forest, the Falcon was first to spot the group. The Tressym had brought his friends with him, and that was too much to contend with for the lonesome bird. It shrieked for a while before it gave up and let the invaders be.

Sneaking as a larger group was more difficult, especially considering many of its members were unfamiliar with the intricacies of forest terrain. Despite his best efforts to lead, Rhydd was slowed down and hampered. Roots, rocks, rattling armors, poor utilization of the cover provided by the trees and hills, and general unneeded noisiness all contributed to making it much clumsier affair than he was used to. In truth it was only Astre who managed to move around with enough discretion to not draw unwanted attention. Save for the Falcon.

Nearing the camp, several tracks began cropping up. Many old, and some inhuman. Rounding the camp in search for traces of the captive, fresher tracks close to a frozen river on the west-northwestern side appeared. Four sets, three belonging to humans and one belonging to the Halfling. They weren't yet hardened and brittle so couldn't be more than an hour old, and at certain intervals a long rope had grazed the snow.

In the distance, perched upon a snow-laden rock, one of the monstrous sentries was second to spot the group. It remained for but a moment, staring intently with yellow, slit eyes, then jumped down and disappeared in the direction of the Reghed camp.

---

Group Check to avoid detection by the Reghed Patrols (DC 14, because that is what I rolled for their Perception Check) [Rhydd; 21, Mallory; 10, Khulekani; 2, Farwalker; 6, Astre; 14]: Fail.

Group Check to find the Halfling (DC 12, because that is what I decided on) [Rhydd; 25!, Mallory; 27!, Farwalker; 19, Khulekani; 26!]: Success.

While Mallory did her best, she wasn't well-accustomed to rough travel with the purposeful intent of being covert.  Had they been skulking about the indoors, certainly!  But to crunch her way through snow with care given for every step, while her focus was more set on keeping a sharp eye out for their quarry and potential foes alike?  It felt like spinning plates.  Along with all the din that came of those even more encumbered by their belongings, it felt like an inevitability that they'd be--



"Aaaaaa-nd we've been rumbled." Mallory grimaced flatly as the Reghedmen turned to leap down from their perch.  All at once she drew in a deep, frigid breath that began to sparkle with flickering motes of light as it passed her lips.  "Spirits of the Slumbering Realm, dancing amid moonlit shade.  Steal away the furtive worries of mortal hearts and lay with me, perchance to dream."

Incantations spilled to the air as readily as those gleaming sparkles of stardust as Mallory arched forward and blew out a long, billowed stream of breath.  It coursed and swirled like a serpent in pursuit of the Reghedmen with startling swiftness - a rapid slipstream that followed them over the ridge, out of sight, and burst into a flurry of gently sparkling flickers that blinked out peacefully one by one.

---

Mallory upcasts "Sleep" at 2nd level in the general vicinity of the Reghedmen scout.  It has a 90' range and a 20' area of effect on top of that, so she should presumably be able to catch the scout in its reach.

Sleep HP
Mallory Bonheur rolled 32 using 7d8
If the Reghedmen is in the AOE and has 32 HP or less, they instantly fall asleep for the next minute.  If they have more than 32 they're unaffected.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:04, Fri 24 June 2022.

Rhydd moved back through the snowy woods in his accustomed manner, however he could not help but notice that his companions were much noisier than he was.

~~Not their fault. They have not the woodscraft nor the long practice in such things that I do. We shall simply have to make the best of it.~~

The outdoorsman moved with an arrow nocked in the longbow that he held in his left hand, and he brought it up into a shooting position in a smooth, quick motion as soon as he spotted the barbarian scout. He held his shot however, as he heard Mallory begin her magicks-making just behind him.

He hissed, expelling a fog of warm breath, when their target dropped from sight. He lowered his bow slightly, so that the nocked arrow was now pointing down towards the snow-covered ground.

"We need to see if Lady Mallory's magicks dropped him, or whether he shrugged them off and kept going," he muttered.

He had heard the wizardess speaking words, but he was unsure of their import. Turning to her, he asked "What effects would your magicks have had, if they worked as intended? Will I find a dead barbarian . . . or something else?"

"Fast asleep in the snow, like those wolves that attacked the wagon train days ago.  But only for a short time.  We need to be quick."  Mallory explained even as she was already in the midst of picking up her heels to high-step hustle her way through the snow toward where the scout had vanished.  If they were slumped and snoozing on the other side of the ridge, they'd only have a short time to tie them up before the spell faded.  If they weren't there... then the group would have to make all due haste after the Halfling, as their window of opportunity would be very much narrowed.

"If The Lord on the Rack is merciful, they will be asleep. If not, more bloody means will be required. Please stay behind me, Lady Bonheur..." Khulekani said softly, but firmly.

The squire raised her shield, and drew Isiliva with a practiced ease. She then proceeded to hurry as fast as she was able to where the scout had disappeared. She prayed that they were in a deep slumber. Because it sounded to her ears that these people weren't so much inherently evil as desperate. And considering how much of that was going around Icewind Dale at the moment, the young woman had to admit she felt some small pang of sympathy for them. But it would not stop her from doing her duty, or trying to rescue others from the pot.

The scout was not in a deep slumber. It was instead nowhere to be seen. In its wake were tracks, leading back in the direction of the Reghed encampment.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:06, Sat 25 June 2022.

Mallory did indeed keep behind her companions, all the while Astre poked his head out to keep an eye on the rear of the group just in case.  Though the fact that the scout had made it through her bit of spellcraft was met with a displeased, yet unsurprised, sigh.

"It was a gamble in the first place..." she muttered dejectedly.  Certainly not the first time fortune hadn't favored her efforts, but she could only hope they would fare better in the coming moments.  "There's no chance of us catching them now, so let's make haste after the Halfling before reinforcements arrive.  I expect we'll be needing to make a hasty getaway, one way or another."

"Agreed," Rhydd replied to Lady Mallory's conclusion with a quick nod.

He turned in the direction where the Halfling's tracks had been seen. "Let us make haste. How does that saying go? 'Time is of the essence'?"

The archer huffed his amusement at the high-flown language that some people favored. "'Twould be clearer to simply say that we should hurry."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 16:13, Sat 25 June 2022.

Meanwhile, withdrawn from the action, Farwalker had found a stump to rest at. Wifni hungrily eyed the nuts and dried fruit the Goliath had taken out to munch on, but when offered some the Axe Beak had no interest in actually eating them.

---

Speeding up had its drawbacks. If the group had trouble keeping silent and unseen before, they sure had now. Fortunately, the tracks didn't continue for long, climbing with the frozen stream until they reached a small outcropping. A snare trap was set here. The rope was affixed to a branch on the nearest tree, and the noose, covered by small rocks and twigs, hung loosely with a bait in its epicenter. The trap was rigged with narrowly arranged thin branches ready to snap the second they were disturbed. It was finely made, through and through.

The tracks continued on to the next site, rounding a short cliff where the Halfling, overseen his captors, was crouched, busy tying another snare. None of the Reghedmen appeared monstrous. No, they were like any other Rhydd had encountered over his years roaming the frozen tundra. Two men and two women, clad in furs and thick hide armor and armed with spears and axes.

Perhaps it was the rattling of Khulekani's chain links, or perhaps Mallory stumbling upon a errant root, but the noisiness of the group's approach immediately alerted them. They readied their weapons, exchanged a brief few words, and assumed attentive stances.

"Show yourselves!" one of them called out.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:44, Sat 25 June 2022.

Knowing the game was up, and taking their quarry unaware was no longer on the table, Khulekani decided to act in an open and bold manner. This was more suited to her training and temperament anyway. To save an innocent life, she would try the best she was able to at the act of skulking. But absent that, being open and honest about her intentions sat much better with her conscience. So, standing to her full height and rolling her shoulders, the dark-skinned woman ceased any attempt at subterfuge and walked proudly out into the open. Slowly, deliberately, she drew her glowing arming sword and held it at the ready, so that they might see what was in store for them should it come to blows. She raised her shield up next to the blade, not only to protect her body, but to display the heraldry of her Order upon it's dented, polished face.

"Hail and well met Reghedmen, children of the glacier. I am Khulekani Kumalo of Athkatla, daughter of Ghakarhi and Thabisa, and Squire of the Radiant Heart Auxiliary. I am a knight-errant in these lands, and all innocents I am able to protect fall under my aegis. In your company you have a Halfling trapper. I would have you release him at once. We are not yet foes, and I would have it remain as such. But know that if he too is destined for your cooking pot, I will defend him with my last breath. Your numbers might see my end, but your descendants will tell terrible sagas of the southern daemon that decimated your tribe before finally succumbing. I say again release that Halfling, and let peace stand in place of a blade!" the squire called valiantly, projecting an air of supreme confidence and ability that she did not feel in her heart.

But she wasn't lying. The battle might not be so terrible as she threatened, but she had made a vow that she intended to keep, even if it cost her life itself. She only hoped in the confusion, the Halfling and her new companions could escape the bloodshed.

OOC Mechanics
16:12, Today: Khulekani Kumalo rolled 15 using 1d20+5. Persuasion.
17:21, Today: Khulekani Kumalo rolled 10 using 1d20+5.  Persuasion with Advantage.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:22, Sat 25 June 2022.

There was little point to bother with subtlety by then and Mallory likewise carried along as swiftly as she could; her white cloak shed its paleness back to bold red amid her strides.  No surprise at all the Reghedmen they came upon saw them coming a proverbial mile away, but she could only hope that such an open approach would serve better than skulking since that was the hand fate had dealt them.  The fact that the Reghedmen spoke out first rather than just immediately take to violence was reassuring... even though, all the same, Mallory half-hid herself behind a sturdy tree.

She poked her head out from the side, still entirely within view of the others - it was not so much a hiding place as it was a reflexive urge to seek cover.  Her dark eyes narrowed a bit as she skimmed the field for its details.  Snares?  So they were using the Halfling for labor in setting traps, though whether they hoped to capture small game or unwitting travelers was the real question.

"Indeed, there's absolutely no need for weapons here!  You're searching for food, aren't you?  It's not much, but I've at least three days worth of hard rations to spare.  They're yours in trade for your captive's freedom." the young noble piped in from her spot.  At the same time, Astre shimmied around her shoulder and up the tree she was half-hidden behind, out of sight himself as he scaled higher into the boughs for a better position.

---

Mallory has 3 Rations she can hand over, in hopes of sweetening the deal in order to give Khulekani Advantage on her Persuasion check.

Astre, meanwhile, will climb a tree to a higher vantage point above the Party, in case there's a coming need for battle map placement.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:47, Sat 25 June 2022.

Astre, atop his post, could see no traces of any pursuers.

The Reghedmen flinched, tightening their grip on their spears as Khulekani pulled her sword. One man snarled. When it became obvious she was appealing to reason instead of lunging at them, they took the time to listen. The Halfling was slow to realize the situation, but as Khulekani's words began thundering, he fell, shuffling on all fours until his back was against the cliff.

"We are the tribe of the Wolf!" the snarling man yelled his response. He was a tall, muscular specimen with a wild, red mane. "And we have laid claim to this trapper and his expertise. He is not destined to boil, but to serve. So long as he shall cull our hunger, he shall live!"

"Three rations?" one ferocious looking woman, her face scarred, said to her group. "It wouldn't remotely satiate them . . ."

"Turn back!" the other women yelled, lashing at the air with her spear in warning. She was a young one, hardly an adult. "We do not wish to fight you! Forget you saw us and turn back!" Her eyes shone in the fading twilight, and an expression most pleading befell her. ". . . or you will be flayed to bits."

The second man, him more elderly, took a step forward and thrust the base of his spear into the snow. There it remained, and then he unfastened his axe from its loop and discarded it as well.

"What are you doing?" the scarred woman nudged closer and spat through her teeth.

"The red woman is right, there is no need for weapons. We have had enough bloodshed." the aged man said. "Keep your rations!" He called out. "All we ask is that you leave us be. Please." The wildhaired man hesitated but followed his companion's lead, groaning his complaint as he jabbed his spear down and tossed aside his axe. Then the two remaining tribeswomen did the same, and then, soon, all their weapons were renounced.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:44, Sat 25 June 2022.

The tense conversation had Mallory on pins and needles as she feared the break of violence at any second.  But there was something in the Reghedmen's phrasing and bearing that prickled at her ears.  That the elder flat-out dropped his weapon all but assured her suspicion when it came to his call to simply be left be.

"The Lycanthropes - the beastmen - in your camp.  You're being held by them as much as this poor fellow, aren't you?" she chanced.  "Please, we've come in hopes of giving help.  If you yourselves are in need of it as well...?"

The young woman averted her eyes, clearly despondent.

"Pity us not," the elder responded. "We have risen from the ashes, strong once more. Now we endure the consequences of our choices. And enduring, we are."

Rhydd stood with an arrow nocked, but pointing down towards the ground and not at the Reghedmen.

"There were four. And I see but one now," he said quietly but firmly, seemingly addressing his comments to the elderly male barbarian who had dropped his weapons.

"Where are the other two Humanoids and the dog?"

“The hound for us. Two for our Beastfolk,” the elderly spoke frankly, “and the last for us.”

“There is no time for this, don’t you understand?” the young woman said, just loud enough for her voice to carry. “They will come! Flee! Flee for your lives!”
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:25, Sun 26 June 2022.

"So only the Beastmen have eaten?  The rest of you haven't cannibalized anyone?" Mallory's intonation was grim.  "That's some relief... if you had, you risk being cursed to rise as a Ghoul - an Undead wretch cursed with eternal starvation."

Despite the urging to flee and the quiet, rising pressure in the pit of her stomach, Mallory remained on task.  She had Astre's eyes to scope out their surroundings and alert them to any coming risks; so long as he didn't sound off, she would trust they had some diminishing window of time left.  "We're not leaving without the Halfling fellow.  He's coming with us, no matter what.  But..."  her gaze bounced between each of the Reghedmen's expressions of fear and upset.  "When we do take him, what will become of you lot?  Will you be punished?  Will you be sent to the stew pot yourselves?"

---

Astre's keeping an eye out and has a 15 Passive Perception, but let me know if I need to roll a Perception check for him at any point.

"We are family," the elder responded. "We have not lost ourselves, nor will we ever. While we might be punished if you take the Halfling, it won't be harshly."

Astre's ears twitched. Before he could see them, he could hear the Lycanthropes approach. Yips, yaps, snarls, growls, snorts, grunts¹ . . . Whatever their strategy entailed, silence played little part in it. Speed, on the contrary, appeared to be pivotal judging by how quickly they were approaching.

---

1: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=112JsKtbCEE
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:22, Mon 27 June 2022.

There was a part of her that doubted the elder's faith in his own kind.  If they'd been corrupted by Malar then it was really only a matter of time before their evil actions spread further.  Survival would demand it prevail above all else, and beasts ate their own kind - even their own young - in nature all the time.  How long would the Beastmen hold onto what was left of their humanity?

A worry for later, it seemed.  Mallory's gaze shifted aside sharply as distant sounds caught Astre's ears and were instantly relayed to her awareness.  "We're out of time.  They're coming, and quickly at that." she warned her companions.  A sharp gesture was waved across the gathered Reghedmen with a swing of her lantern rod.  "Go then, if you don't fear your own.  Run to them or away from here; leave us and the Halfling.  We'll handle ourselves."

A valiant last-stand against overwhelming odds wasn't in Mallory's character but, as Rhydd had witnessed prior, she often had tricks up her sleeves when it came to avoiding danger.  If they could outmaneuver a White Dragon, surely they could do the same with some hunters?

"You have wisdom, and you have more goodness in you than I first thought. Flee with us! I have called transport for a hasty retreat..." the Squire said soothingly to the barbarians.

And true to her word, Khulekani had sent a whispered thought to Zula, who remained with the sled. She could only hope that her old friend could find her way through the woods before they were set upon. If not, she would stand and buy the others as much time as her life would allow. Such was the vow she had made.

OOC: 07:55, Today: Khulekani Kumalo rolled 22 using 1d20+3. Vehicle check (Wis).

The elder huffed in response. "You insult us, Warrior. Do not confuse our consideration for your lives with disloyalty."

"It's not your loyalty in question, but that of your baleful kin.  Those who give themselves to The Beastlord will, in short time, serve only The Beastlord.  Best you consider that carefully." Mallory warned even as she hurriedly beckoned the Halfling to their company.  "Come along, sir; we'll have you back to safety and civilization in no time."

---

There was precious little time after skirting among the rocks and snow for Mallory to work.  Zula may have been on her way but the Beastmen would reach them far sooner.  Just as with the White Dragon prior: when there was no way to outfight or outrun a foe, the best bet was to try and outwit them.  Mallory gestured for her companions to gather up around her as she drew out a portion of rope from the bundle on her pack, once more set into hurried chants as she unwound a length.

"Writ of the Weave, warp and weft.  Knit and gnarl, notch and knot, not a stitch in time for nine; spare a stitch in space for eight." A familiar bit of witchcraft fell from her painted lips as the rope shuddered to life like a serpent in her grasp and, seemingly of its own accord, one end rose up a few feet overhead to hang free in the sky.  "Quickly now!  Rhydd; show the others inside and keep them quiet?  I'm going to cover our tracks."

Inside, such as it was, remained that strange liminal space tucked between realms.  A nest of writhing grey mist big enough to house a handful of people sat at the top of the rope's climb, invisible to all the world outside it.  But those within its coiling border could look up and not see the cloudy, twilit sky they'd been under a moment prior but rather the endless depths of the Astral Sea.  Vast, cosmic storms flared in untold distances to light shattered, floating ruins of ancient structures adrift in hollow space.  All too nearby the shell of what looked like a winged nautilus that was sundered fully in half languished in the void; at least, it seemed nearby at first glance, but closer scrutiny revealed it was actually terribly far away but extremely large in an unsettling optical trick.  Whatever the thing was - creature or structure - had to have been enormous, bigger than a galley ship despite it being torn asunder.

---

Mallory casts "Rope Trick" so, for the next hour -

Rope Trick:

You touch a length of rope that is up to 60 feet long. One end of the rope then rises into the air until the whole rope hangs perpendicular to the ground. At the upper end of the rope, an Invisible entrance opens to an extradimensional space that lasts until the spell ends.

The extradimensional space can be reached by climbing to the top of the rope. The space can hold as many as eight Medium or smaller Creatures. The rope can be pulled into the space, making the rope disappear from view outside the space.

Attacks and Spells can't cross through the entrance into or out of the extradimensional space, but those inside can see out of it as if through a 3-foot-by-5-foot window centered on the rope.

Anything inside the extradimensional space drops out when the spell ends.

The Elder was done with his responses. They all remained where they were as Mallory, Rhydd, and Khulekani put their plan into action.

The Halfling eager to be extricated and dashed to clear the distance, shaking the snow his messy hair had accumulated during his tumble. When it came to the plan he was immediately aboard without requiring any briefing, and he made sure to step where his prints would be least visible. Difficult, in a slow laden landscape, but he hopped and jumped with such dexterity it put his rescue party to shame. "Oooh . . ." he bemoaned all the while, "this ain't going to work!"

The casting of Mallory's spell was entirely surprising to him, however. When Mallory had produced the rope, he hadn't known what to expect. But it wasn't this. Still he climbed up when it was his turn, and when he reached the end of the rope and his head peaked inside the rectangular opening he all but lost his grip and fell backwards. "Gah!" he squirmed, ducked, and glanced down at whoever was behind him. "Are you sure this is better? There's this . . . thing here!"

---

Halfling Survival to be in on the plan [24!]: Yeah, he knows his stuff. His success is not necessary, but that isn't stopping him from doing his part.

---

Astre saw them, hurtling through the woods. One emerged from the thicket, snarling. It was more uncovered now, its robes flagging behind wildly in its mad dash. Another one appeared. And another one. And then the last one. By their fanfare, Astre could conclude that their numbers ended at four, unless there were some lagging far, far behind. There was also virtually no time left over for his mistress, as they would crest the hill at any moment.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:30, Thu 30 June 2022.

"There's a lot of things in there.  It's perfectly safe, I assure you; just keep very quiet and try not to stare out into the Astral Sea overlong.  We don't need existential dread on top of all the primal dread we've got out here already." It said a lot about Mallory's taste in coping mechanisms that she could rally sarcasm in such a moment.

Not that she was idle though; while the rest were given their take to the rope first, she lingered at its base with a hand outstretched over the distant snow.  They'd come around a bend to take cover amid the rocks and, bit by bit, the frost-laden terrain gently began to shift and move with highly localized tremors.  Not enough to rumble the earth but simply fill in their tracks with resettled snow until it looked as good as freshly fallen.  To anyone following the boot prints alone it would appear as if their creators simply disappeared into thin air - which was quite the case - but a good twenty feet away from where they were actually sequestered at.

---

This will take place amid everyone else climbing as, in the meantime, Mallory casts "Mold Earth" a few times to get rid of their trail.  Since she has four castings available to her at a 5' square of terrain each, she'll get rid of 15' worth of tracks leading up to the "Rope Trick" spot and, once she's off the ground herself, will get rid of the 5' square of prints directly beneath the "Rope Trick" spot to finish it off.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 08:02, Thu 30 June 2022.

Rhydd grasped the landward end of the rope to hold it taut, and pointed up towards the roiling gray mist that obscured what lay above.

"Up you go," he urged the Halfling and Squire Khulekani.

"It may look odd, but it'll be like being inside a little room. And it hid us from the likes of a White Dragon, so it should work fine with this lot."

~~As long as those barbarians who have been standing around watching don't give away where we went,~~ he thought glumly to himself.

Then the Halfling froze, his head no longer visible to those down on the ground, chattering nervously about what he was seeing. Rhydd reached up and put the flat of his hand on the Halfling's rump, and shoved him bodily up into into the mist.

"If it eats you, let us know," he growled. "Otherwise, keep your mouth shut."

Glancing at the paladin, he said "You next, or me? Time is short, and we should not stand on ceremony."

"Lady Mallory will use her magicks to cover our tracks, and will follow us in."

"This is insanity . . ." the Halfling whispered to himself as he crawled into a corner to seek refuge. "Out of the frying pan . . . or out of the fire and into whatever this is . . ." He attempted to heed Mallory's warning about staring into the swirling cosmic foam, but the severed nautilus-thing beckoned another glance. Then he gulped loudly, closed his eyes, and gripped the back of his head, reduced once more to a cowering ball of a person.

"Go. I will cover your ascent. Besides, if Zula gets here before these barbarians do, I will need to tell her to hide. I do not know if I can do that from inside that magical space. Please go now," she replied to Rhydd calmly but firmly.

She held the bottom of the rope tight to emphasize her point.

Rhydd nodded. Squire Khulekani's concerns about communicating with Zula made good sense.

Plus, the likelihood of winning a debate with a paladin regarding which one of the two of them should be the first to move into a safe haven seemed rather slim.


And finally, as he had observed, time was short.


Up the rope he went . . .
This message was last edited by the player at 01:54, Fri 01 July 2022.

Khulekani could do no more than relaying Zula her route as thoroughly as she could, and then it was up to the horse. For within the Astral Sea, no thoughts escaped to the Prime Material. Khulekani and Zula would be cut off, fully and completely, until Khulekani reemerged.

Mallory hurried up the rope with little time to spare right after Khulekani had made her ascent, the heel of her boot disappearing just as the Lycanthropes rounded the tree they had hid behind. The tracks had abruptly ended, and so had the wild chase. They had dashed to the outcropping, but now they slowed and began circling their fellow tribesfolk, shoveling snow with their snouts to catch lingering scents.

Astre could see one of the Lycanthropes stood, its form shifting from that of an oversized Wolverine to a hideous amalgamation of Wolverine and man. It became tall, taller than the Reghedmen, with a thick mane in grey and brown. Its drab, torn robes waved in the winds before settling at its feet. "Where are they . . ?" it growled between snorts, its snout wrinkled and contorting as its sharp fangs were bared.

The elder remained quiet for a moment, but then glanced upward to where their spell had taken them. "Gone. By means of magic. Scatter, and perhaps you catch them."

The Werewolverine lingered close by the elder, puffing chilled breaths in his face. Then it snarled, tore its face away while frothing at the mouth, and lowered itself toward the ground to once more assume a non-hybrid form. Its fellow Lycanthropes split up, each hurtling in their own direction, while the one remained and fell back to examine the tracks anew.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:56, Sat 02 July 2022.

The sight that laid just beyond the hidden space she'd conjured caught Mallory a bit off-guard as well.  There was no immediate fear of the fragments of that far-off nautilus, though a moment of surprise to see it before she just huffed gently through her nostrils.  ~Serves them right, the bastards.~ she inwardly chided before she turned her back and put it out of her thoughts for the moment.

Her lantern rod was laid out across the narrow entry in the floor and, with a flick of her thumb to activate its enchantment, locked itself in space as an additional barrier.  It didn't completely block the space, of course, but one extra layer of security made the entry too narrow for anyone bigger than their Halfling fellow to easily pass through.  With that done Mallory backed away from the opening as much as she could and lifted a gloved finger to her lips - the universal gesture for silence among her companions.

---

The "Rope Trick" entryway is a 3x5 hole, so Mallory lays her Immovable Rod lengthwise with that to reduce the 3' portion to a pair of 1.5' segments.  If anyone gets to the point that they directly encounter the obstacle then we're already in deep trouble, but it's at least one more hurdle to slow them down with.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:55, Sat 02 July 2022.

Rhydd was curious about the strange, broken thing that he could see floating out in the dark Void, but he nodded his understanding when the wizardess silently shushed them.

His questions would have to wait. As an outdoorsman and hunter, he well understood the virtues of patience, as well as silence, (in his experience they oft-times went hand-in-glove) and was comfortable with both . . .

The remaining Werewolverine sniffed around in the snow, utterly perplexed. From his vantage point, Astre could only conclude it was lost. Bewildered. Outwitted. And its fellow Reghedmed offered it no support. The uncorrupted tribesfolk only exchanged a few glances between themselves in silent communication. Their chosen course of action had been no unanimous decision.

Crunch! Snap!

Farwalker emerged atop Wifni, and at the sight, it was surprising the sound of a tree toppling hadn't accompanied their storm out of the thicket. The large, heavy Goliath was situated upon the strong bird, bearing shield and hammer. Wifni shrieked terribly as she was brought to a halt, spreading her vestigial wings and jutting her tongue out.

The Werewolverine reared its head, roared, and flexed its claws.

Zula came in right behind with the sled in tow, half tossed around and one strap snapped. It had been quite an adventure getting here, for both carriage and steed.

---

Initiative!

• > Zula [17] (Will fall into Khulekani's Initiative once Khulekani joins combat)
• Astre [15] (Will fall into Mallory's Initiative once Mallory joins combat)
• Reghedmen [14]
• Werewolverine [3] (Moved adjacent to allies for easier management)
• Farwalker [4]

---

Battlemap! https://i.imgur.com/sWaiJ9S.png
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:57, Tue 05 July 2022.

Zula could only guess at where her Squire was. She'd made it this far based on thorough instructions, and knew Khulekani hid with her companions somewhere safe, but while she was both a spirit and smarter than any ordinary horse, she was far from a spellcaster. They were on another plane of existence, that much she could piece together. But how would they return, and when?

'Out of my way!' she whinnied behind Farwalker and Wifni, deciding this was not the moment for action, not deliberation, and so bravely charged the hideous creature of unknown make in front of them. The half-toppled, half-loose vehicle behind her dangled behind in her gallop, jumping and jostling against every obstacle. Zula reared to slam her front hooves into the Werewolverine's skull, almost losing the second strap that bound her to her sled in the process. The Werewolvering was taken aback, and Zula landed a solid blow before attempting to trample it into the ground. But, having suffered no wound from Zula's ordinary hooves, the Werewolverine caught his guard and weaved underneath the horse's form to avoid its flattening, emerging with killing intent.

---

Zula Attack against the Werewolverine [22]: Hit.
Werewolverine Strength Saving Throw to avoid being knocked Prone by Zula's Trampling Charge (DC 14) [18]: Success.

• Zula [17] (Will fall into Khulekani's Initiative once Khulekani joins combat)
• > Astre [15] (Will fall into Mallory's Initiative once Mallory joins combat)
• Reghedmen [14]
• Werewolverine [3] (Moved adjacent to allies for easier management)
• Farwalker [4]

Werewolverine AC: 12
Reghed Warrior AC: 12

Updated Battlemap.

Well, no point in hiding any further, Astre figured to himself.  His role as a watchful scout was no use if he just sat on his tail while others were charging in and thus the Tressym tossed himself from his perch.  Wings flared out to carry him along as he zipped around Farwalker and Zula, just overhead to be out of reach but making such a fuss of swooping and yowling that it was impossible to overlook him.

"Rrrrrowwl~! Rrrrl~!" he intoned westward with an obvious 'this way!' motion to his companions, then took off that direction himself to lead the way.

Meanwhile, up in the little pocket space of safety, Mallory's attention had since been caught by all the ruckus outside.  She crouched on hands and knees, dark hair pooled about the floor - such as it was - with cheek smooshed down so she could get a good enough angle to see what went on outside.  "What a terrible feeling of deja vu..." she muttered glumly.

---

Astre can't really do anything in a fight, so he's trying to guide the others away by heading west in the direction of A-11.

"To Hells with it!" the fire Reghedman called out and grabbed his spear. He then chucked it mightily at Zula. The spear struck her clean in the pectorialis descendens, embedding itself into her rearing form.

The rest of the Reghed warriors rushed to their weapons, grabbing either spear or axe. One woman tossed the hand axe she had just picked up, electing to remain by her spear, while the other two, among them the elder, rushed at the horse. The axe went wide as Zula fought off the front assault as best she could with her hooves. The powerful horse inspired hesitation in the Reghedmen, and so they only jabbed at the empty air in front of her.

Meanwhile, the Werewolverine snarled and tensed its claws, close to the snow. It eyed Farwalker with maniacal eyes stirred by a frenzy. Dumb, obedient mounts were of no priority when a Goliath, wielding shield and axe, served as their head to sever. And so it dashed away from Zula, suffering another hoof in the process, and leaped high into the air to deliver a sweeping slash. Farwalker's shield blocked and caught the impact, a terrible scrape sounding as its claws dragged against the metal. Then it used the Wifni's large and feathery bulk as a handhold, swiveling around, as its teeth sank deep into Farwalker's shoulder.

---

Reghedman #1 Thrown Spear Attack [12]: Hit for 7 Piercing Damage.
Reghedman #2 Thrown Axe [5]: Miss.
Reghedman #3 Two-Handed Spear Attack [10]: Miss.
Reghedman #4 Two-Handed Spear Attack [8]: Miss.

Zula Attack of Opportunity on the Werewolverine [14]: Hit for 9 Bludgeoning Damage.

Werewolverine Claw Attack against Farwalker [13]: Miss.
Werewolverine Bite Attack against Farwalker [24]: Hit for 8 Piercing Damage. Farwalker must Succeed on a Constitution Saving Throw DC 12 or be cursed with Lycanthropy.

• Zula [17] (Will fall into Khulekani's Initiative once Khulekani joins combat)
• Astre [15] (Will fall into Mallory's Initiative once Mallory joins combat)
• Reghedmen [14]
• Werewolverine [3] (Moved adjacent to allies for easier management)
• > Farwalker [4]

Werewolverine AC: 12
Reghed Warrior AC: 12

Updated Battlemap.

With a growl of pain, Farwalker slammed her shield into the beastman and shoved him off. She didn’t even glance at her shoulder, but it didn’t take much deduction to figure out what happened. “You would bite me?” She sounded rather irritated. Not too unusual for someone just bitten. “You are a blight upon this world. Burn.” She wasn’t shouting, but her voice boomed across the field all the same, with a bit of added emphasis from the flat of her axe slamming into the rim of her shield.

The every-present, but nearly invisible aurora around her swirled, brightening before shooting up into the sky. For a moment, they hovered high in the air before slamming down in a silver radiance.

And then the beastman burned.

---

OOC:

Action: Upcast Moonbeam at Level 3. DC 14 Con Save with disadvantage, then again on the were creature’s turn.
Movement: N/A
Bonus Action: You dare?!
Free Action: N/A

21 (11) Radiant, 16 (8) Radiant Damage. Parenthesis is if saved.

Today: Farwalker rolled 16 using 3d10.  Damage on it’s turn because I want to get that out of the way.
Today: Farwalker rolled 21 using 3d10.  Upcast moonbeam. Because that was rude.

quote:

A silvery beam of pale light shines down in a 5-foot-radius, 40-foot-high cylinder centered on a point within range. Until the spell ends, dim light fills the cylinder. When a creature enters the spell’s area for the first time on a turn or starts its turn there, it is engulfed in ghostly flames that cause searing pain, and it must make a Constitution saving throw. It takes 2d10 radiant damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one. A shapechanger makes its saving throw with disadvantage. If it fails, it also instantly reverts to its original form and can’t assume a different form until it leaves the spell’s light. On each of your turns after you cast this spell, you can use an action to move the beam 60 feet in any direction. At Higher Levels. When you cast this spell using a spell slot of 3rd level or higher, the damage increases by 1d10 for each slot level above 2nd.

This message was last edited by the player at 20:55, Thu 07 July 2022.

In reply to Mallory Bonheur (msg # 88):

Rhydd could not help but smile at the sight of the prim and proper Lady Mallory down on hands and knees, her rump raised up higher than her face, which was pressed down against the floor (if that was the proper word) of their magicked hidey-hole.

"I shall keep this view in my mind's eye as a remembrance, whene'er I need something to put a smile on my face," he remarked, with more than a trace of amusement in his voice.

Then his tone became serious. "Can you see what's going on out there?" he asked the wizardess.

Were the situation not potentially so dire Mallory might've had a bit of snark for exactly what view Rhydd decided to engrave into his memory.  "Just barely.  Farwalker's arrived with our mounts and she's being attacked by the Lycanthrope and all the Reghedmen." Despite how severe that situation sounded, she was a bit blase on it entirely because she'd seen what Farwalker could do against a pair of towering Ice Trolls.  A matter confirmed all the more when a bright glow carried from beyond the dimensional barrier and made Mallory squint away from it.

"Aaaaaa-nd she just lit up a giant, towering spell that's probably caught the attention of everything within a mile of here."  So much for subterfuge.  Mallory reached to deactivate her lantern rod's placement over the entryway; if they needed to rush out and help, or just make a break for it, they needed to be ready to leap down at a moment's notice.  Doubly so if Khulekani was of a mind to charge out in support of Farwalker first.

The Lycanthrope remained, staring at the silvery light that coalesced above it. It was as it was frozen, its limbs stiff, its joints locked. But then it came to its senses as the pillar came bursting down and leaped out of the way, too late to avoid it fully. Farwalker's spell seared its tail and hind legs, strands of hair disintegrating within divine retribution.

---

Werewolverine Constitution Saving Throw (w/ Disadvantage) against Farwalker's Moonbeam (DC 14) [19 14]: Success. The Werewolverine takes 11 Radiant damage.

---

New initiative list:

• > Rhydd [23]
• Khulekani and Zula [11]
• Mallory and Astre [9]
• Reghedmen [14]
• Werewolverine [3]
• Farwalker [4]

Rhydd's response to the news that Mallory imparted was part hiss, part growl of anger. He did have the presence of mind to tell the wizardess, "Mind your hair," as he grabbed the nearby rope and moved towards the exit-hole.

He dropped the rope through the hole and scampered down it, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt solid ground under his feet. Well, solid ground with some snow on top . . .

The archer loped to a spot that gave him a clear line of sight and line of shot on some of the Reghedmen. Rhydd reckoned that he might also be able to block any of the barbarians from getting past him, if Mallory wanted to set up behind him.

He moved to his spot and launched three arrows in quick succession. At this range the veteran archer could scarcely miss, and he didn't . . .

---

OOC:

Free Action: Speak to Mallory.

Move: As discussed in the OOC thread, Rhdd will drop the rope down through the exit hole of the Rope Trick Space, and use it to descend to the ground, expending 10 feet of movement. I assume that this will put him directly under the hole, in Square Q-3. From there, he will move to Square M-6.

Action: 17:49, Today: Rhydd Maldhon rolled 16 using 1d20+9 with rolls of 7.  Ranged Attack v. Reghedman Warrior (AC 12). Hit.

17:53, Today: Rhydd Maldhon rolled 7 using 1d8+4 with rolls of 3.  Damage: Longbow Attack #1.

17:51, Today: Rhydd Maldhon rolled 27 using 1d20+9 with rolls of 18.  Second Ranged Attack v. Warrior (AC 12). Hit.

17:53, Today: Rhydd Maldhon rolled 9 using 1d8+4 with rolls of 5.  Damage: Longbow Attack #2.

Action Surge: 17:52, Today: Rhydd Maldhon rolled 25 using 1d20+9 with rolls of 16.  Action Surge Attack v. Warrior (AC 12). Hit.

17:54, Today: Rhydd Maldhon rolled 6 using 1d8+4 with rolls of 2.  Damage: Longbow Attack #3.

Edit: 22:09, Today: Rhydd Maldhon rolled 26 using 1d20+9 with rolls of 17.  Action Surge Attack #2 v. Warrior (AC 12). Hit.

22:10, Today: Rhydd Maldhon rolled 11 using 1d8+4 with rolls of 7.  Damage: Longbow Attack #4.

Comments: Three hits, but the Damage rolls are pretty low. Mayhap Idri can craft a bow that will remedy that. :)

Rhydd will initially target the warrior in Square M-10. If he (or she -- I can't tell which, given the scale of the icon) falls (which seems unlikely, given Rhydd's Damage rolls), he will target the warrior in Square K-10.

Rhydd has expended his Action Surge (refreshes after a Short or a Long Rest).

Fourth Attack added after OOC discussion with Farwalker -- thanks!
This message was last edited by the player at 02:15, Sun 10 July 2022.

Khulekani was soon to follow. She grabbed the rope and descended in a quick slide, drawing Isiliva in one hand and readying her shield in the other. The moon-touched greatsword lit up with brilliant light as Rhydd's arrows flew, thudding into one of the warriors. The first struck her in the back and she remained standing, turning to face the threat. Then another struck her chest and she fell with a grunt. The tribesman by her side turned to witness his fallen comrade just in time to net himself his own arrow to the shoulder. Then his head.

"Raaaah!" the woman ahead of them shouted at the bowman, her grip on her spear tightening.

But she, alongside the elder, faced another adversary in Khulekani, who marched forward with the fury she had promised earlier.

Turning her back to Zula for but a moment proved a grievous mistake. The horse reeled and kicked the back of her knees in the hopes of incapacitating her. Though the impact was solid — bone shattering — the woman, through sheer stubbornness, remained upright in the wake of disaster.

---

Khulekani's Action
Channel Divinity: Sacred Weapon

Khulekani's Movement
From inside the Rope Trick room -> N6 (30')

Zula Attack against the Reghed Warrior on L8 [23]: Hit. The woman takes 9 Bludgeoning Damage.

Initiative list:

• Rhydd [23]
• Khulekani and Zula [11]
• > Mallory and Astre [9]
• Reghedmen [14]
• Werewolverine [3]
• Farwalker [4]

Werewolverine AC: 12
Reghed Warrior AC: 12

Updated battlemap. Now with 300% larger Zulas and Wifnis!
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:15, Tue 12 July 2022.

Mallory prepared herself to follow her companions in suit out of their hiding spot but, as Khulekani made her way down the rope, she paused to afford their Halfling fellow a weak smile.  "Stay here and pull the rope back up after us, sir.  This refuge will keep you hidden for another hour; if the worst comes to us, hide here as long as you can and then make west for Bryn Shander.  Save yourself." she urged.  There was no time to wait for reply or even confirmation though.  The young noble drew a breath to steel her nerves, then dropped down through the entry in the floor.

The leather of her boots and gloves alike hissed as she grabbed hold of the rope on the way down and slid swiftly to the snow.  An easy landing, thankfully, and she quickly darted up alongside Rhydd.  To find such immediate bloodshed with the fallen, arrow-peppered Reghedmen in the snow made her eyes widen and stomach churn in revulsion.  But she gritted her teeth through it as she fell back on what she'd been taught.  Compartmentalize.  Think about what needs to be done.  Focus.  Dark eyes looked past the terrible sight to where the Beastman and Farwalker were in distant melee with one another; her towering spell remained active all the while and ready for more, so Mallory saw fit to put it to good use.

"Farwalker!  Together!" she called over the battlefield as she raised her lantern rod overhead.  "Spirits of the Windy Skies, soaring free on endless wings.  Break these earthly tethers and bear aloft the mortal anchor, for but a glimpse of your splendor."

Just as had occurred when Khulekani faced off with the Wight prior, so too did Farwalker's foe suddenly find itself caught helplessly aloft as gravity seemed to leave it.  Its clawed feet drifted upward out of the snow to leave the Beastman suspended several feet in the air amid clusters of similarly floated snow.

Astre, meanwhile, pumped his wings as he flew higher and higher skyward.  Up into the darkening skies to peer about all around with a sweeping spiral to circle the fight and its surrounding area.

---

Astre
Astre uses his Movement get just up to the limit of Telepathy's range and will keep an eye out on the surrounding area for any sign of reinforcements coming their way.  I'm assuming this will only be sight-based, so he'll rely on his 15 Passive Perception.

Mallory
Movement: 30' broken up amid climbing down the rope and moving to M-4, which thankfully is just within the necessary 60' of the Beastman.

Action: Mallory uses her last 2nd level spell slot to cast "Levitate" on the Beastman and will also burn her last Portent to guarantee it lands.  The Beastman's Constitution saving throw roll is 5.

"How lo—" the Halfling began, but the wizard was gone before he could finish. So he swallowed, steeled himself, and pulled up the rope behind her as she had instructed.

The remaining female Reghed warrior was intent on keeping Zula back with her spear. "Malar take you! Malar take you all!" she snarled. Her pokes amounted to nothing against the towering steed.

The elder looked terrified. They had no hope in contending with the Warhorse alone, let alone a Squire, an expert bowman, and a Wizard. The dire situation was compounded by the fact that their Werewolverine was losing. He watched as it was lifted up into the air within the searing beam of light, yelping in agony. They had been outmatched.

A smile crept up on him. "An end befitting warriors! Perish, beast!" With all the force he could muster, he plunged the spear into Zula's neck, earning a pained whinny. It didn't bleed blood, but ethereal wisps, and he could only pray to Tempus — or Malar, as it now his favor they relied upon — that he had managed to injure the horse. Whichever afterlife awaited him, he did not wish to enter it with nothing to show for.

Astre emerged from the treetops to a quiet afternoon. The battling voices below became distant, muffled by the wintry landscape. The sun was setting behind the Spine. But beneath, close to where the battle raged, he could see one of the off-shoot Lycanthropes return from its hunt.

It crept up from the north-west, atop the hill overlooking the battlefield. Slowly. Surely. And ready to pounce on unwitting prey.

The levitated Lycanthrope attempted to writhe itself out of the magical grasp to no avail. Higher and higher it went, still caught within the Goliath's radiant beam of moonlight. It began shrinking as hairs burnt. Soon, in its stead, was now an ordinary man. An unarmed, ordinary Reghedman. Distended in the air, he took its only course of action available to him, which was to kick Farwalker in the face. He had no luck with that either.

---

Reghed Warrior #1 Spear Attack against Zula [9]: Miss.

Reghed Warrior #2 Spear Attack against Zula [21]: Hit for 6 Piercing Damage.

Werewolverine Constitution Saving Throw (w/ Disadvantage) against Farwalker's Moonbeam (DC 14) [7 2]: Fail. The Werewolverine takes 16 Radiant damage and reverts to its original form.

The Werewolverine (or what used to be it) is now Bloodied.

Werewolverine Unarmed Strike against Farwalker [5]: Miss.

Werewolverine #2 Stealth [4]: Astre spots them.

Initiative list:

• Rhydd [23]
• Khulekani and Zula [11]
• Mallory and Astre [9]
• Reghedmen [14]
• Werewolverine [3]
• > Farwalker [4]

Werewolverine AC: 12
Reghed Warrior AC: 12

Updated battlemap. Now with 300% more Zula and Wifni!
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:40, Tue 12 July 2022.

It was an idle motion that got her head out of the way of the kick. She wasn't all that concerned with the werebeast now. And it seemed Rhydd had the rest of humans dealt with. If Malar was the one they worshiped, then she had no qualms with dealing with them. Instead, she had her own riding beast move forward, using her shield to bat aside another kick by the man as she scanned the snow. These creatures generally roved in packs, and she didn't want to be caught unawares.

---

Action: Disengage
Movement: 5-10' Back away from the werewolverine.
Bonus Action: Scan the snow? Or is that an action?
Free Action: Hold Concentration.

18 (9) Radiant Damage on Werewolverine's Turn. DC 16 Con Save. Parenthesis is if saved.

Today: Farwalker rolled 18 using 3d10.  Radiant Damage on Werewolverine's turn.

Though Mallory's focus remained intent for the sake of her spellcasting concentration - despite how horrible an outcome it resulted in - her brow sharply furrowed as Astre's warning chimed in her mind.  She quickly waved her lantern rod over to one side to cast its light out against the darkness where the incoming Beastman lurked.

"Another one!  Up on the ridge!" she called in warning to her companions.

---

Yay for Free Actions!  Thank you, DM.  As it's getting steadily darker, Mallory's Lantern should be able to light up and reveal the incoming Beastman - either by Bright Light or Dim, depending on the range.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:06, Fri 15 July 2022.

Rhydd could do nothing about the incoming Beastman. He didn't didn't doubt Mallory, but she was just illuminating a sheer stone wall, and even if he could see it his ordinary arrows wouldn't harm it. So he focused on the threat at hand.

---

Rhydd Attack against Reghed Warrior [21]: Hit for 6 Piercing Damage.

Rhydd Attack against Reghed Warrior [20]: Hit for 9 Piercing Damage.

---

They both struck the Elder, delivering him the warrior's death he had desperately sought.

Now that battle was joined, and they were revealed, Khulekani drew Isiliva and prepared herself for combat. While there were probably more vital targets on the field, her heart immediately went to Zula. She was her dear friend, and she would not leave her to fight alone against these barbarians. brandishing the blade, which shone with a soft silver light, she ran across the snow to engage her red-headed foe.

"Stay away from her!" she cried as she engaged the Reghed Warrior.

OOC Mechanics
Hit Points   : 39/39
Armor Class  : 18
Initiative   : 11
Active Spells: None

Free    : Speak
Move    : Move 25 ft to L11
Action  : Attack, Extra Attack

Damage: 19 Magic Slashing

-Rolls-
21:28, Today: Khulekani Kumalo rolled 24,19 using d20+7,d20+7.  Attack Rolls.
21:28, Today: Khulekani Kumalo rolled 7,12 using 1d8+6,1d8+6.  Damage Rolls.

As Khulekani rushed forward into the diminishing fray, Mallory was close on her heels.  Her thoughts ran a mile a minute as she worked to keep up with it all - to maintain her focus on her spell to keep one Werewolverine trapped, to track where the unseen portal to their rescued guest was, to where the incoming Beastman could descend with Rhydd nearby and unable to protect himself.  All that and there were bound to be more incoming!  The stress of it all made her jaw ache as she ground her teeth.

Too much.  Too many distractions.  Just focus.

Rhydd.

"Have at you, you mangy heretic!  Over here!" she shouted to try and draw the incoming Werewolverine's focus her way.  An insult and challenge weren't all though; her lantern rod was brought to bear as she thrust it toward the distant foe.  The steady, perpetual light contained within suddenly flared out in a surge of heat that launched out as a dense, shimmering bolt of flame straight at the incoming Beastman.

---

Concentration: Being maintained on "Levitate".

Movement: To N-9.  I'm not sure what the height of the ridge the second Werewolverine is at, but I'm assuming moving that far along would let her get enough of an angle to put eyes on it.

Action: Mallory casts "Firebolt" at the incoming Werewolverine on the ridge to try and get its attention focused on her rather than Rhydd.
Mallory Bonheur rolled 18 using 1d20+7

Damage: 5
Mallory Bonheur rolled 5 using 2d10
Oof, shit roll.  Kind of makes sense though, given that Mallory isn't inclined to hurt people.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:10, Mon 18 July 2022.

Darkness set in as the meager sunlight the Frostmaiden allowed Icewind Dale disappeared. With an overcast sky, total darkness took its place, with only Mallory's lantern and Isiliva to pierce it. The last of the Reghedmen fell on Khulekani's shining blade. Now the warriors all laid breathless, staining the shuffled snow red.

The suspended Werewolverine in human form screamed in agony as the shining light of the moon singed his skin. Even after it had stripped him of power, it was intent on purifying him, burning away his sins. It was too much to bear, and his screams fell silent and his body limp.

After repositioning, Mallory gained a view of the encroaching Werewolverine. It had crept up to the edge, back arched and growling low. Its element of surprise had been entirely stripped from it when Mallory's bolt of fire grazed its fur, setting it aflame. It howled, moving in twitches and jerks as its lust for blood ignited, and leaped down the ridge.

And Mallory was struck from behind. First a claw that ripped into her coat and skin, then a bite that overshot by the thinnest of margins as she ducked away to the side.

Despite both the Werewolverines' and Mallory's mutual attempts at distraction, the one above had selected Rhydd as its target. But the huntsman had been granted the chance to prepare, and the beastman's trajectory was determined the moment it set into the air, allowing enough time for Rhydd to sidestep the ferocious pounce. It landed on all fours beside him, baring its sharp fangs in a hideous snarl.

---

Werewolverine Constitution Saving Throw (w/ Disadvantage) against Farwalker's Moonbeam (DC 16? or DC 14? No matter) [11 5]: Fail. The Werewolverine takes 16 Radiant damage. The Werewolverine dies to its wounds.

Werewolverine #3 Stealth Check from the previous turn [20]: Unseen by Astre.
Werewolverine #3 Claw Attack against Mallory (w/ Advantage due to being an Unseen Attacker) [17 3]: Hit for 7 Slashing Damage.
Werewolverine #3 Bite Attack against Mallory [7]: Miss.

Werewolverine #2 Claw Attack against Rhydd [5]: Miss.
Werewolverine #2 Bite Attack against Rhydd [10]: Miss.

Initiative list:

• Rhydd [23]
• Khulekani and Zula [11]
• Mallory and Astre [9]
• Reghedmen [14]
• Werewolverines [3]
• > Farwalker [4]

Werewolverine AC: 12

Updated battlemap.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:53, Mon 18 July 2022.

Struck from behind!  Though it was a blow to the body and image alike that a so-called diviner could be taken by surprise, the Werewolverine's claws found no true purchase on their target.  Even as Mallory recoiled on reflex from the blow the air around her shimmered with a surge of arcane force.  Like a thin bubble visible only for the split-second claws raked across in a scattering flash of energy rather than blood.

---

Absolutely don't want to take that hit, so Mallory will use her Reaction to cast "Shield", bumping her AC up to 20 until the start of her next turn.  Mallory will also willingly drop Concentration on "Levitate" now that the first Werewolverine is dead.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:00, Mon 18 July 2022.

Pleased that her beloved steed was no longer threatened, Khulekani looked about the immediate area for new foes. Seeing that Mallory was being assaulted by these lycanthropic cads, she brandished her blade once again.

"Not while Grimjaws watches this battlefield!" she cried.

The sparkle of the snow seemed to dim for a moment, as the light from the blade flashed brilliantly for a moment. When the light faded, the Squire was upon the Werewolverine, and slashing with all the power and ferocity of one of her gods.

OOC Mechanics
Hit Points   : 39/39
Armor Class  : 18
Initiative   : 11
Active Spells: Divine Favor

Free  : Speak
Move  : Move 15 ft to N10
Action: Attack, Extra Attack
Bonus : Cast Divine Favor

Damage: 30 Magic & Radiant Slashing

-Rolls-
20:34, Today: Khulekani Kumalo rolled 14,21 using d20+7,d20+7.  Attack Rolls.
20:36, Today: Khulekani Kumalo rolled 13,17 using 1d8+1d4+6,1d8+1d4+6.  Damage Rolls.20:36, Today: Khulekani Kumalo rolled 13,17 using 1d8+1d4+6,1d8+1d4+6.  Damage Rolls.

And there they were. She had been expecting them, but hadn't really seen them, unfortunately. Farwalker glanced behind her and grimaced at the corpse hanging in midair, then gestured at the beast that was attacking Mallory. She wished she could held Rhydd more, but he would just have to deal with what little assistance she could give him.

At her gesture with the axe, the beam of moonlight behind her suddenly cut off before slamming back down with that almost physical weight on another werecreature. Today was not a very good day for them. "The light assists." Here words were quiet, and unheard through the ringing of her axe on her shield. And then, with a casual flick of her wrist, she through her axe, though the weapon never truly left her fingers. Instead, a figment of her weapon made from the ever shifting light of the aurora slammed into the werebeast on Rhydd.

That was the intention, anyhow. Really, the haft of the weapon smacked the back of their leg. Not her best throw.

---

Action: Move Moonbeam onto Werewolverine 3
Movement: 10' Forward to get Werewolverine 2 in Range of Spiritual Weapon (60')
Bonus Action: Spiritual Weapon on Werewolverine 2.
Free Action: Hold Concentration.

12 (6) Radiant Damage to Werewolverine #3. DC 14 Con Save. Parenthesis is if saved.
15 (8) Radiant Damage on Werewolverine #3's Turn. DC 14 Con Save. Parenthesis is if saved.
4 Force Damage to Werewolverine #2.

Today: Farwalker rolled 12 using 3d10.  Moonbeam Damage Round 3!
Today: Farwalker rolled 15 using 3d10 with rolls of 3,10,2.  Moonbeam damage Part 2.
Today: Farwalker rolled 4 using 1d8+3.  Spiritual Weapon Damage.
Today: Farwalker rolled 18 using 1d20+6.  Spiritual Weapon.

quote:

A silvery beam of pale light shines down in a 5-foot-radius, 40-foot-high cylinder centered on a point within range. Until the spell ends, dim light fills the cylinder. When a creature enters the spell’s area for the first time on a turn or starts its turn there, it is engulfed in ghostly flames that cause searing pain, and it must make a Constitution saving throw. It takes 2d10 radiant damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one. A shapechanger makes its saving throw with disadvantage. If it fails, it also instantly reverts to its original form and can’t assume a different form until it leaves the spell’s light. On each of your turns after you cast this spell, you can use an action to move the beam 60 feet in any direction. At Higher Levels. When you cast this spell using a spell slot of 3rd level or higher, the damage increases by 1d10 for each slot level above 2nd.

quote:

You create a floating, spectral weapon within range that lasts for the duration or until you cast this spell again. When you cast the spell, you can make a melee spell attack against a creature within 5 feet of the weapon. On a hit, the target takes force damage equal to 1d8 + your spellcasting ability modifier. As a bonus action on your turn, you can move the weapon up to 20 feet and repeat the attack against a creature within 5 feet of it. The weapon can take whatever form you choose. Clerics of deities who are associated with a particular weapon (as St. Cuthbert is known for his mace and Thor for his hammer) make this spell’s effect resemble that weapon.

Rhydd could shake the lycanthrope that currently harassed him, he knew. But could he keep it shaken? The Beastmen were quick.

Still, he made the attempt in an effort to keep this Werewolverine on his tail and dashed to the cover of the trees. Shooting a bow was troublesome with someone hounding you, but the rapier stayed  put for now.

---

Rhydd's Action
Disengage

Rhydd's Movement
N4 -> P6 (10')

Initiative list:

• Rhydd [23]
• Khulekani and Zula [11]
• > Mallory and Astre [9]
• Reghedmen [14]
• Werewolverines [3]
•   Farwalker [4]

Werewolverine AC: 12

As Rhydd backed up from the Werewolverine, Mallory raised her arms and staff aloft in preparation even as she flinched away from the searing flashes of her allies' strikes so nearby.

"Spirits of the Weaver, ingrained within the skein of worlds.  Unravel the tapestry of What Is, What Was, and grant my hand the loom to craft What Will Be." she chanted in a low, sonorous tone as wisps of rising grey smoke roiled off her body in a building vapor.

---

Partial Turn
Action: Mallory casts "Phantasmal Force" on the Werewolverine antagonizing Rhydd using a 3rd level spell slot.  No upcast bonus, but she's out of 2nd level slots.

Werewolverine must make a DC 15 INT saving throw or fall under the effect of the spell.  The spell fails outright if the target succeeds, so I'll hold off on finishing my narration and remainder of my turn until the DM has a chance to make the roll.  What Mallory does next depends on whether or not the spell succeeds.

---

Nothing outwardly happened as far as anyone could tell which, unfortunately, was the case whether the spell took or not.  Mallory, however, felt her effort to exert control on the Werewolverine's perception slip off and grimaced with frustration.  "Damn it all..." she cursed before she gathered her skirts and, with a wary look over at the nearby Beastman, did her best to hurry away so as not to be a hindrance to Khulekani's ability to swing her sword.

---

Spell failed, so Mallory will use her Movement to K-9 and risk triggering an Opportunity Attack from the Werewolverine.  If it wants to chase after her, it'll have to eat Khulekani's Opportunity Attack next, so I'll take the risk.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:00, Fri 22 July 2022.

"I am the Guide, and you are an Obstacle on this path. You shall be removed."With a casual flick of her hand, or in this case her axe, Farwalker's hard-light replica of said weapon flipped and bopped the werewolverine on the head, distracting the creature long enough for a blazing blast of light to slam into it's back. The fact that it was literally sparkling afterwards was an interesting effect.

---

Action: Guiding Bolt on Werewolverine 2 (Forgot to upcast in roll so Level 1)
Movement: Glare.
Bonus Action: Spiritual Weapon on Werewolverine 2.
Free Action: Hold Concentration.

4 Force Damage to Werewolverine #2. Again.
12 Radiant Damage to Werewolvering #2. Next attack against Werewolverine #2 has Advantage.

Today: Farwalker rolled 12 using 4d6.  Guiding Bolt Damage.
Today: Farwalker rolled 17 using 1d20+6.  Guiding Bolt. (Level 1)
Today: Farwalker rolled 4 using 1d8+3.  Spiritual Weapon Damage.
Today: Farwalker rolled 19 using 1d20+6.  Spiritual Weapon

quote:

A silvery beam of pale light shines down in a 5-foot-radius, 40-foot-high cylinder centered on a point within range. Until the spell ends, dim light fills the cylinder. When a creature enters the spell’s area for the first time on a turn or starts its turn there, it is engulfed in ghostly flames that cause searing pain, and it must make a Constitution saving throw. It takes 2d10 radiant damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one. A shapechanger makes its saving throw with disadvantage. If it fails, it also instantly reverts to its original form and can’t assume a different form until it leaves the spell’s light. On each of your turns after you cast this spell, you can use an action to move the beam 60 feet in any direction. At Higher Levels. When you cast this spell using a spell slot of 3rd level or higher, the damage increases by 1d10 for each slot level above 2nd.

quote:

You create a floating, spectral weapon within range that lasts for the duration or until you cast this spell again. When you cast the spell, you can make a melee spell attack against a creature within 5 feet of the weapon. On a hit, the target takes force damage equal to 1d8 + your spellcasting ability modifier. As a bonus action on your turn, you can move the weapon up to 20 feet and repeat the attack against a creature within 5 feet of it. The weapon can take whatever form you choose. Clerics of deities who are associated with a particular weapon (as St. Cuthbert is known for his mace and Thor for his hammer) make this spell’s effect resemble that weapon.

quote:

A flash of light streaks toward a creature of your choice within range. Make a ranged spell attack against the target. On a hit, the target takes 4d6 radiant damage, and the next attack roll made against this target before the end of your next turn has advantage, thanks to the mystical dim light glittering on the target until then.

This message was last edited by the player at 03:20, Fri 22 July 2022.

Two slashes. Two hits. And two deep wounds the Lycanthrope's mystical physiology refused to reknit. It bled before Khulekani, but still it remained unafraid as it growled at her with the intent to rip her throat out at first opportunity.

Those intentions were put to rest. Farwalker's moonbeam, which had so thoroughly disposed of its previous target, came for the second Werewolverine. It spun, witnessed the Goliath, and glanced up with a horrified visage at the shining light that came crashing down. As with its companion, the bathing radiance transformed it into the Reghedman it had once been. The man writhed, fought, attempting desperately to escape when Mallory's illusion dug its feet into his mind. By the grit of his teeth and the stinging pain of the cleansing his thoughts remained firmly anchored to reality. Whatever Mallory willed to be, would not. And then the spiritual replica of Farwalker's axe, though hitting blunt side, cut all his efforts short. Finally overwhelmed, he buckled and fainted underneath the unrelenting pressure of the moonlight and his gaping wounds. And drew breath no more.

The second Werewolverine to appear, third to make it to fray, became the new target for both Farwalker's Spiritual Weapon and her Guiding Bolt. Although it kept on Rhydd's tail, the Reghedman in it briefly turned their head to watch the surrounding battlefield, only to be bonked in the head by a translucent, shimmering axe of Dwarven make that had curved around a tree. "Grraaaw!" it roared, and though struck right between the eyes remained only mildly inconvenienced. Until the rest of Farwalker's magic reached it and burst into bedazzlement.

---

Werewolverine on O10 Constitution Saving Throw (w/ Disadvantage) against Farwalker's Moonbeam (DC 14) [18 12]: Fail. The Werewolverine takes 12 Radiant damage. The Werewolverine reverts to its original form.

The Werewolverine (now Reghedmen Warrior) perishes from its wounds. Farwalker's remaining Attacks (Spiritual Weapon strike and Guiding Bolt) is redirected to the remaining Werewolverine.

Werewolverine on O5 Claw Attack against Rhydd [6]: Miss.
Werewolverine O5 Bite Attack against Rhydd [21]: Hit for 8 Piercing Damage. Rhydd must succeed on a Constitution Saving Throw DC 12 or be cursed with Lycanthropy.

Initiative list:

• > Rhydd [23]
• Khulekani and Zula [11]
• Mallory and Astre [9]
• Reghedmen [14]
• Farwalker [4]
• Werewolverines [3]

Werewolverine AC: 12

Updated battlemap.
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:53, Tue 26 July 2022.

Khulekani sent a powerful, fierce grin to Mallory and Farwalker. They were carrying the day, and their faith would see them through this fight, and she was sure other fights to come in the future. However, she turned and saw Rhydd was beset by one of the foul lycanthropes, and that simply would not do. Facing the Werewolverine, she held her shield up so that the heraldry of her order shone in the light of her glowing blade. So that it would know it's doom had come.

"Faith is stronger than savagery, beastswain!" she cried, before charging through snow and thicket.

The Triad were indeed with her that moment, for one of her deadly strokes was most telling.

OOC Mechanics
Hit Points   : 39/39
Armor Class  : 18
Initiative   : 11
Active Spells: Divine Favor

Free  : Speak
Move  : Move 25 ft to N5
Action: Attack, Extra Attack Werewolverine

Damage: 35 Magic & Radiant Slashing

-Rolls-
17:34, Today: Khulekani Kumalo rolled 27,17 using d20+7,d20+7. Attack Rolls.
17:36, Today: Khulekani Kumalo rolled 20,15 using 2d8+2d4+6,1d8+1d4+6. Crit Damage Rolls.

Rhydd knew what the bite of a Lycanthrope could mean. Mayhap the result depended upon his body's ability to defend itself against whatever caused the change, or mayhap 'twas all in the hands of the gods. But he felt like his fate was balanced on a knife's edge.

"Don't feel any different," he muttered after a moment. How long would it take for the change to make itself known, if he was going to be affected? He didn't know, although some of his friends among the local Rangers might know the answer.

But for the moment, he was going to assume that he was unaffected. So he was going to do his best to remain that way -- if, indeed, that was the case. He readied himself to use his bow-stave to fend off any attacks, so that his companions could bring more useful weapons to bear against it . . .

---

OOC: 22:26, Today: Rhydd Maldhon rolled 15 using 1d20+2.  Constitution Saving Throw re: Lycanthropy (DC 12). Success.

Comments: I have admittedly lost track of whether there is still a Lycanthrope in the fight, or whether they have all been defeated. If Rhydd is attacked this round, he will use the Dodge action.

OOC: There's still one left, though I'm not sure it'll still be standing after Khulekani's hit.  DM?  Any need for Mallory's round of Initiative or did the crit do the trick?

Though it took Khulekani and Isiliva two additional strikes to win the day, the remaining nearby Lycanthrope collapsed with a cut throat and stained the snow with its cursed blood. Despite its predicament it let out not whimper or gurgle — its life had departed in mere seconds after the blade had fallen.

Up ahead, by the cover of thickly set evergreens, stood the last of the Lycanthropes. Though it was tough the spot, Astre could pick it out from up above, and Farwalker's Eyes of the Night could peer even into the deepest darkness. Its vibrant, yellow eyes rested upon the battlefield for a moment before it took off in the direction from whence it had returned, robes flagging in its wake.

---

Combat ends.

When Khuelkani shot her grin across to her fellows in the heat of righteous combat, she wasn't greeted with battlefield camaraderie in return.  Knights and soldiers, perhaps, found a level of connection amid the conflict that let them band together and empower one another.  But when eyes found Mallory, they would be met with all too telling an expression.  Fear.  Outright, unmasked terror plain in her dark eyes and knitted brow, held in check only by the necessity of the moment.  Were it not that their lives were on the line, she surely would've been screaming and in pursuit of somewhere to hide, as she'd been when the Wight first crashed into their midst.

Finally, finally, the battlefield went silent with the last of the Werewolverines to fall.  Quiet beyond the shuffle of armor and the huffed, weak breathing they all puffed out from the exertion of the brief melee.  Mallory tensed all at once as insight struck her and she whirled to bring her staff to bear once more, the lantern at its end aglow with the build-up of magic as she readied a blast for the Lycanthrope who watched from the distant ridge where it thought it'd been hidden.  But it turned and left without incident... and Mallory absolutely deflated with a staggered gasp for breath she didn't realize she'd been holding in.

Corpses, all around.  Blood on the snow, scattered across blades and armor alike.  Her gloved hands trembled badly and she clutched her lantern rod all the tighter to try and steady herself.

"Rhydd!  Rhydd, are you alright?  Oh gods, you're bitten... do you feel feverish at all?  We need to... Damn it, where am I going to find belladona this far north?" she struggled to refocus herself away from the gore as she rushed to Rhydd's side, quick to fret over his bloodied state.  "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!  I tried, but my spell didn't take and--" the young noble seemed about ready to work herself into another tizzy out of worry.

Astre, meanwhile, watched the retreating Robed Lycanthrope from on high until the fellow vanished from sight.  Though he was tempted to give chase and see where they went, there was likely little time for the Party to recollect themselves and make good on the reprieve they'd earned.  The Tressym swooped down in an easy dive and, with a deft flip, pitched himself up through the invisible-to-everyone-else portal that led into his partner's pocket space where the Halfling still hid.  The Tressym meowed for attention and nodded meaningfully to the entrance, then left it himself in clear indication for the Halfling to follow.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:40, Wed 27 July 2022.

Rhydd exhaled heavily, and a thick plume of steam hung in the frigid air. ~~Thank the good gods for magicks, and Squire Khulekani's blade.~~ he thought to himself. ~~I could do naught against the Beast-men. I do not much care for being a bystander in battles to the death.~~

The concern in Mallory's voice and her rushing over to him soon put an end to his wool-gathering, however.

"I . . . umm, I believe that I am unaffected. Well, except for the normal wound that is. I don't feel any . . . different."

"Do you know how long it takes for the . . . change to occur? If it is going to happen at all, that is."

For all her knowledge and learning, Mallory was no physician.  She could dissect a body with the best of them but repairing a wound was outside her specialty, so she was left with little to do beyond fuss and worry over the deep bite mark Rhydd had taken.

"I'm not... I mean, it's not a sure thing.  Lycanthropy can gestate for weeks before taking full effect in a victim; that's part of why it's so dangerous.  People might not even know they're-- ah, there are ways of detecting or counteracting it before it takes root, of course--" she struggled to keep her focus straight.  The rush of adrenaline had already begun to taper off in her system and her nerves frayed in its wake.  It left her bedside manner with much to be desired even if the genuine concern was there all the same.

---

I'm assuming enough is commonly known about Lycanthropy - as it's a relatively well-known condition in the setting - that it'd be top-of-the-head knowledge it kicks in around each full moon/after a few weeks.  Arcana check for anything more involved, since it's a magical disease/curse?

In reply to Mallory Bonheur (msg # 118):

"Weeks?" Rhydd grimaced at that prospect. "I would like to know for certain, and sooner rather than later."

"Would your augury magicks give us an answer?"

"There are methods to find out, certainly.  Old remedies and the like - none of which actually cure Lycanthropy, but are still rather reliable at ferreting it out.  If I can find some dried belladonna, I could make one well enough to know for sure." the young noble did her best to center herself and keep her focus.  It was, of course, safest to just assume anyone bitten had contracted the curse and to treat it accordingly.  "My magic is... rather diminished now, to be honest.  I've used far more energy than I usually do in a day.  I'm not sure I'll be of much good for now."

Rhydd wasn't the only one hurt though and they likely had little time.  If that Robed Lycanthrope intended to gather their allies and bring more forces to bear, the group would stand little chance in contending with them all.  "We shouldn't dally though.  We need to get back to civilization, quickly, before the Reghedmen have a chance to rally.  The sooner we're safe in the walls, the better we can figure this out."

Rhydd smiled and nodded to Lady Mallory upon her suggestion that they not tarry at the site of the battle. "Good thinking. A few days ago, I would have been the one nudging you along. I do believe that you are starting to think like a North-woman."

After a short pause, his smile broadened slightly and he added "That was a compliment, by the way."

He turned to address Farwalker and Squire Khulekani. "Well done, you two. Both of you fought like the champions that you are, and your efforts turned the tide of battle in our favor."

The archer squared his shoulders and glanced around at the field of battle. It certainly looked messy, with gouts of blood on the snow and corpses littering the ground. But he knew from experience that soon enough Nature would begin to scour the area clean, and within a few days little would remain to evidence what had happened here.

"We would do well to mind Lady Mallory's rede. We should gather up all that we wish to take away from here, and begone as soon as we can."

"I am a curse-breaker." Simple words with a very clear meaning. Hopefully. Farwalker had already dismounted, and was in the process of carrying corpses into a line. For one, she disliked just leaving bodies where they fell unless she had no other choice, and for another, well, she was heavy and the poor beast had run with her on their back. That couldn't have been too pleasant.

"I do believe that you are starting to think like a North-woman."

Mallory's brow knitted up in a rather split expression of concern and confusion, as if she was unsure whether Rhydd had taken a jab at her with that.

"That was a compliment, by the way."

To that, she heaved a sigh and gently thumped her fist against Rhydd's shoulder - albeit with plenty of care to avoid his injured side.  "Honestly, I don't know why I worry over you." she managed a weak laugh in spite of the awfulness all around them.  The huntsman's sense of levity seemed to steady her well enough indeed as she offered him a genuine, if wan, smile.  Farwalker's reassurances helped to bring some further weight off Mallory's shoulders as well.  The Goliath seemed wholly unphased as usual - it was hard to get a handle on just how stoic a force she was.

In the meantime, there were important matters to tend to.  Mallory moved aside to stand beneath where the Rope Trick portal was set; unlike Astre, she couldn't see it herself but knew full well where she'd placed the darn thing.  "Sir?  The coast is clear for the moment; we need to make all due haste, so toss down the rope and come along.  We'll have you back to town in no time."

---

For the sake of setting up intentions, Mallory will recover her rope once the Halfling exits (she can use her Immovable Rod as a step to get enough height so she can cut the rope free at its connecting point to lose as little as possible).  When it comes to harvesting monster parts, she's not going to go full butcher like with the Ice Trolls.  Just gathering blood, fur samples she can cut without skinning, and any claws or fangs she can reasonably knock loose from whatever state of ruin Khulekani rendered the Werewolverine into.

If there's time, when all's said and done, she'll finally use "Mold Earth" to move snow over each of the lined-up bodies to at least give them some semblance of a burial mound.  Mallory will not personally search/loot any of the non-lycanthrope Reghedmen bodies; she basically has a hard time even looking at them and is too unsettled by the whole experience to think of loot.

When the last foe fell, and there was nothing but the sounds of the forest and the banter of her companions, Khulekani fell to her knees. Planting the tip of Isiliva into the snow, she placed the dark skin of her forehead against the Quillion of the arming sword. Though the battle had not been long, her breath came out a bit more rapidly than usual. But she used that breath for a prayer of thanks.

"Wounded One, we thank you for your justice. The One Who Endures, we thank you for your mercy. Loyal Fury, we thank you for your righteousness. We thank you for our deliverance from this battle. We ask you to guide these departed souls to their eternal rest. Verily, for justice, mercy, and righteousness all serve together, so do we serve..." Khulekani said, voice clear in the air despite the hushed tone.

"There is no need for praise, Master Maldhon. I am more concerned with your injuries. There are several temples to the south that could give you aid, but alas, we are still restricted to this frozen region," she sighed heavily, standing to her feet and sheathing her sword.

The bodies of the men she'd hit with the altered moonlight weren't looking all too great. At least the cold air stopped them from smoking quickly enough. Fortunately, it didn't take her too long to move the bodies into at least a semblance of a line. Most people were light enough to move around. Normally, she'd take the time to bury them, but there both wasn't enough time, and she didn't have an easy way to break through the frozen ground. So she settled for the line, and placing their weapon on their chest, clasped in their hands if they had one.

Instead of saying a prayer as a priest might, she just eyed the bodies for a long moment and then shook her head. "For ignorance, death." She muttered quietly. And then, because it was a waste not to, she began to go through their pockets and pouches.

The Halfling reluctantly followed the beckoning Astre and descended the rope, fearing the worst was yet to pass. He'd heard sounds, clinging steel, the snap of bowstring, the snarls of the beastmen, and preferred the astral horrors that remained far off in the ether.

The burial of the fallen warriors was a swift affair — Farwalker moved them into position, and Mallory magically shoveled snow to cover them, letting them remain as bumps on the landscape for their tribemembers to either collect or leave be.

Wifni had calmed down and was cleaning her feathers. Perhaps she didn't fully understanding the gravity of the situation to begin with. It was easy to steer her into position beside Zula, whose sled was quickly righted, and be it fastened to the Phantom Vehicle or carrying someone on her lonesome, she was ready to make haste.

---

Loot:
Reghed Warriors

• Hide Armor x4
• Longbow x4
• Handaxe x4
• Ornamental Knife x3
• Arrow x48
• A Shard of Flint
• A Rat Skull
• A Small Dreamcatcher

Werewolverines

• Tattered Robe x3
• Tooth x2
• Tuft of fur x1

Collections of all sorts were to made in all due haste.  Supplies, bodies, hapless Halfling alike.  Thankfully the sled hadn't been too badly battered by Zula's charge; just a bit jostled, but nothing a quick bit of care couldn't fix.  So long as they weren't actively chased across the tundra and forced to drive recklessly, it would surely survive the return trip well enough... it'd have to, really.  Mallory didn't fancy lingering around for the time it would take to conjure another sled to replace it.

"You know, in all the fuss, I realize we've never gotten your name, sir." the young noble noted as she stood to help the Halfling into the sled.  With the others wounded to varying degrees it was best she drove.  She gestured first to herself, then each of her companions in turn as they were about their business.  "I'm Mallory Bonheur.  This is Mister Maldhoun, Miss Farwalker, and Squire Kumalo of the Radiant Heart.  We were directed this way by a gentleman who lives on the outskirts of Bryn Shander - he was quite worried, and rightfully so, about his fellow trappers."

---

Driving the Sled
Mallory Bonheur rolled 20 23 using 1d20+2 (forgot to add my proficiency bonus because of the spell)

Looking back through the posts, I guess we never actually got the old man's name.  ^^;  He's just "The Old Trapper" as far as we know, apparently.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:14, Tue 02 Aug 2022.

Rhydd nodded to the Halfling when Mallory introduced everyone. The archer had his head in the clouds, trying to puzzle out when he would start feeling the effects of Lycanthropy -- if he was going to, that is -- and the wizardess had claimed the driver's seat in the sled by the time he noticed.

~~Good for her,~~ he thought to himself. ~~She is seeing what needs to be done and tending to it, rather than waiting to be asked, or told. Whether she will admit it or not, she really is adapting to life up here in the far North quite well.~~

~~I suppose that we need to get the Halfling back to Bryn Shander. He seems pretty shaken up by what has happened to him. I suppose that I cannot fault him for it -- he has been through a lot here as of late.~~

~~Plus, we need to get the word out to ware what is afoot in the Hopwood. We certainly pared down their numbers, but there are still Reghedmen and Beastmen lurking about in the shadows of the trees.~~

---

OOC: Rhydd will claim the arrows that were recovered as Loot.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:04, Tue 02 Aug 2022.

Once safely secured in the back of the sled, the Halfling patted down his leather jerkin. "Yes, yes, yes! That is all well and good, but now let's vamoose!" He watched with growing worriment when his rescuers took not only the time to move, loot, and bury the bodies, but even knock a couple of teeth loose from the unturned Lycanthrope! "You wouldn't mind trekking back to the camp and grab my hat while you're at it?!"

Thankfully, the sled took off with Zula in the lead shortly after. The terrain was perilous — the hills sloped downward jaggedly, and at times the trees left little wiggle room for the conjured vehicle made to fit at least four passengers. Wifni happily trotted alongside the sled, having a significantly easier time. Zula was now entirely beholden to Mallory's flicks and tugs on her reins in the lantern-lit escapade, or the sled would be upturned and its contents scattered behind the horse on the first encounter with a protruding root or rock. A Warhorse she was, and pull a sled she could, but compensating for the bulky and cumbersome addition in such a densely packed forest was no small ask.

Astre had seen the spectating Werewolverine take a turn once it had vanished from sight. It intended to head back to the Reghedmen's encampment, but traveling straight through the battlefield would net it the fate of its kin. Hence the slower detour.

No further incident was had on the expedient escape. The Lycanthropes lagged far behind if they decided to give chase, and soon enough — or not soon enough according to the Halfling, who spent the entire time hanging over the back in frantic paranoia — the clearing was reached.

---

Notes regarding loot: I forgot to include the x4 Spears. In truth, they should be there instead of the Bow and Arrows, but we'll let it slide as it has already been claimed.

To have something to focus on helped her cope with the whole terrible experience they'd left shortly behind them; she could default to the safe repetition of etiquette in one moment and then the attention-holding intent of driving a steed-and-sled the next.  Far, far better than letting her thoughts wander back to the Reghedmen or the fate of the Halfling's companions.

Thankfully, given the mixed terrain and pressing potential of predatory pursuit, Mallory proved a very effective driver.  It was a bit eerie in some cases; she had a knack for urging the reins to drive Zula away from rough spots and divots in the snow long before they came into view, let alone before they could pose a risk.  Certainly a boon to that notion of her being a diviner blessed with foresight... though the likes of Rhydd, who knew her trick by then, could surely notice Astre in flight far overhead and draw the solution easily enough.

"Back to Bryn Shander then, I'd think?  No telling how long they'll keep the gates open after sundown - for whatever that's worth of late - and I don't fancy camping outside all night." Even if they wanted to impose on the Old Trapper's hut, she doubted they'd all be able to fit in there anyway.  She chanced a look back over her shoulder at Rhydd and Farwalker in turn.  "How do you two feel?  Fever?  Dizziness?  Sudden craving for decidedly undercooked steak?"

"Aye. We cannot drag this poor fellow around on our mad adventures. It would not be fair. Besides, Bryn Shander and the rest of Tentowns needs to be warned of the danger in the woods about their towns..." Khulekani agreed, simultaneously sharing a few mental communications with Zula.

"No, no I feel fine," Rhydd replied to Lady Mallory's inquiry.

"Welllll," he said, drawing out the word, "except for feeling an urge to take a bite out of your leg, that is."

He licked his lips and stared down at a possible spot for a nibble. However, he could not hold the look for very long, and after a moment he grinned.

"You are turning into a North-woman before my very eyes, and when I am around you I am developing a sense of humor, whereas I had none -- or very little, any way -- before."

"What is this all about, I wonder?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:12, Wed 03 Aug 2022.

Were it anyone but Rhydd - and the fact that Mallory knew one truly laden with the Lycanthropic curse simply wouldn't resist the desire long enough to state it - she might've been genuinely worried about such a claim.  Instead the huntsman just got another half-playful swat swung back at his shoulder to fend him off when he loomed in on his gag.

"There's a joke about men and dogs here, surely."  A part of her urged to scold Rhydd for not taking the matter more seriously, though she held her tongue on that; people coped with worry, stress, and danger in very different ways.  Gallows humor certainly seemed his style.  "As for your temperament, I daresay it's more likely you're simply more friendly than you care to admit.  The likes of Astre or Chwinga or surly Dwarven grannies wouldn't warm to you otherwise."

The young noble took a moment to briefly cast her gaze skyward toward Astre's faint outline overhead.  A silent rapport was shared as he used his greater vantage to spot the torch lights of Bryn Shander beyond the woods and tundra, which was all Mallory needed to adjust their bearings and urge Zula along once more with a guiding tug on the reins.  But even as she set them on course back for civilization her thoughts wandered out into the wilds where the Netherese Spire laid; they'd not be able to set back out after that lost crew of mercenaries until daylight with the way things had gone.  Not with everyone injured and her own arcane strength so depleted.  She could only hope that, if they were still alive in the first place, they could hold out for another day.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:50, Wed 03 Aug 2022.

One of those thoughtful hums came from Farwalker, and she shook her head. “I would prefer to keep on with our trek.” She rolled her shoulder and frowned at the tear in the fabric. She’d have to fix that later. And she still had some work to do on other clothes. “I am somewhat capable in creating a magical shelter, so worrying about sleeping outdoors is no issue.” She shuffled through one of her pouches to pull a piece of jerky to chew on. “My reserves are still moderate, as well. I do not want to miss the chance to help those that might be out of time.”

"Squire Kumalo has the right of it, so I'm afraid you'll have to make do with being outvoted, Miss Farwalker.  Especially given your condition!  For goodness' sake - you may be tough as a glacier but there's no good to be had in recklessness.  My mother always says: You can't take care of others if you don't take care of yourself."  As stoic as the Goliath was, she had indeed still been injured as well.  The last thing they needed was to trek out into the tundra half-cocked only for her, Rhydd, or Zula to succumb to their wounds one way or another.  "I understand how you feel about it, but we need to focus on what we can do.  Namely getting this gentleman to safety and warning the town of the Reghedmen."

On the scramble out, Farwalker noticed something highly out of place in a boreal forest — a Tarsier, clinging to a branch, staring directly at her. She had only seen it for the briefest of moments before it was passed, but it had been there.

"I would like to head home now, thank you," the Halfling sighed, admitting they were now in at least relative safety.

On the way home, which could be undertaken at a far more comfortable pace than the mad romp through the forest, the Halfling told of himself and his expedition. His name was Fingin, Fingin Thorntopple, and he and his entourage had set out just a few nights prior. He was joined by Sybert, Estal, and of course Hero, all veritable trackers and hunters in their own right. After everything had gone awry, the Reghedmen had taken Hero first. From what the three of them gathered, he was given as merciful a death as the tribe would allow, and Reghedmen didn't torture animals. These Lycanthropes, however, scared the living snot out of them, as Fingin put it, and the hunting party feared they had been captured as food for these Beastmen. Sybert, Estal, and Fingin then concocted their plan to offer their servitude in exchange of becoming dinner.

"'Hunt better than Reghedmen?' they had said," Fingin continued, staring somberly down at his feet where he sat, "'Aye!' Sybert blurted out. 'Fingin here was born in Good Mead and is the best trapper you'll ever lay your eyes on! He knows the forest in an out, practically breathed pine needles!'" Tears were now streaking his cheeks and his voice had become jagged as the memories, fresh in his mind, were recounted. "He was just trying to be humble! I ain't a better trapper than he is, I ain't! And still he had to go and say it! He could've vouched for 'imself!" Now he was just a blubbering mess. He wiped his nose with his sleeve and spent a brief minute collecting himself. "Sorry. Then they took him. Next day they took Estal . . . and the worst part of it all?" he continued, the lump in his throat only growing bigger, "I couldn't say anything. Not when Sybert spoke out, and not when they came for Estal. I know I should have, and then this would have ended differently but . . . I couldn't. I just couldn't."

---

The return to Bryn Shander was met with a fresh set of faces on the guardsmen. Well, one of them were new to the gate, but familiar to the party. Signy waved her greetings from behind her bullseye lantern as she noticed friendly faces, and the East Gate was promptly opened.

"G'day to you!" she exclaimed as she trotted out of a flanking tower. "Out on a little hike? Lost some of your marbles? Well, then again you didn't seem like the sort to have many to start off with . . . Fingin?" she pointed her lantern in the Halfling's direction. "What are you doing with this lot? Uhm," she caught herself. "No offense. Truly."
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:27, Fri 05 Aug 2022.

Fingin's tale of terror and woe left a bitter feeling within Mallory's heart.  There was nothing to be done for it - she reached to offer him a kindly hand in support when the tears came, but a gesture was of little good to soothe the pain he suffered.  "Don't blame yourself, sir; you've been through a truly horrible ordeal." she tried to assuage the poor man as best she could.  "It sounds to me Sybert hoped to protect you, and he did just that.  So if you need to focus yourself on something to get through this, keep on and honor his sacrifice."

---

The gates of Bryn Shander couldn't come soon enough.  Honestly, Mallory never once in her life thought she'd be happy to arrive at Bryn Shander of all places, yet there they were.  The additional sight of a familiar face among the whole affair was an added perk as Mallory drew her hood back to allow lantern light to recognize her features.

"Jokes aside, please, Signy." the noble's tone spoke of a more pressing matter in the moment.  "Mister Thorntopple and his companions had been kidnapped by Reghedmen - he's the only survivor we were able to rescue, and those responsible are still a danger.  We need to speak to Sheriff Markham immediately, if you could assist us."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:07, Thu 04 Aug 2022.

Signy stood frozen as a moment of realization overcame her. "Right. My sincerest apologies! This is no laughing matter." She moved aside to allow for expedient entry. "I'll accompany you to the Sheriff's office."

---

Fingin endured the meeting with the Sheriff, wishing only to wrap himself in blankets by his hearth in his home. But his testimony matter, and the Sheriff was appreciative of the first-hand account of the tragedy. Likewise was he appreciative of the severity of the situation. He gave his guarantees that forces would be mobilized to scope out the threat, and additional safety measures would be implemented. Forbidding free travel to and fro the town was a drastic policy indeed, but one Markham would sincerely consider. At the very least, none would leave for the Eastway without an approved guide, and Hopwood was strictly off limits.

"This is an egregious overstep," Marhkam spoke. "We have believed that our relation with the natives have been neutral, if not positive, for a while now. There's been no incident in years. And even if they pose no threat to the inhabitants within the town walls, many would fall sacrifice if they decide to assault the roads . . ."

---

We're not going to spend too much time here, so make any comments brief. I assume you wish to spend the night in Bryn Shander. I'll have you set out tomorrow after you've claimed your reward.

Mallory remained with poor Fingin as support as much as she could, or rather as much as he would tolerate of her.  Always ready with a kind touch or a supportive look to try and help him through his trouble as he told of what he'd endured at the Reghedmen's hands.

"For what it's worth, Sheriff, this seems to be a rather polarizing shift among the Reghedmen as well.  While those untainted by Lycanthropy did ultimately side with their Beastmen kin when pressed, we had convinced them otherwise at first.  They weren't willingly part of this barbarism and I hardly believe they were alone in that notion.  They're victims of desperation." Mallory shuddered at the memory of the slain Reghedmen scattered in the snow and wished dearly it hadn't come to that.  "The cannibalistic Beastmen themselves may be beyond redemption, but the rest of the tribesmen are surely another matter.  If given some means of compromise and care, perhaps reconciliation is possible."

How to make that compromise or what aid could be offered to the Reghedmen, however, was beyond Mallory herself.  That was something to be puzzled out and weighed by the Town Speakers and their consolidated resources, not by a gaggle of mismatched adventurers who'd stumbled onto local affairs.  "Mister Thorntopple?  Do you happen to know of another trapper named Malcer?  He's apparently been missing as well..."  Given the situation with the Reghedmen, it was already quite apparent what must have become of the fellow, but still.

---

Mallory will pay to have Wifni set stabled for the night, so let me know what the expense there is so I can adjust my inventory.  Assuming we took all the Loot from the Reghedmen, she'll take time to give a cursory "Detect Magic"/"Identify" scan of the various items to see if anything is magical, as a matter of course.  Beyond that, Mallory will dedicate what's left of her evening toward her crafting project before getting in her Full Rest.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:02, Sun 07 Aug 2022.

Rhydd was pleased to see that Sheriff Markham recognized the situation in the Hopwood for the threat that it was. While it seemed unlikely to the archer that the Reghedmen and their allies would assault Bryn Shander directly -- at least not if times were more normal -- who knew what sort of mischief the Frostmaiden or Her minions might stir up in times such as these?

And even if a direct assault was not in the offing, Bryn Shander could be in for hard times, indeed, if travel to and from the town was cut off. After all, Bryn Shander could not feed itself from what was available within the walls of the town.

But for the moment, Rhydd was happy to let Lady Mallory take the lead in the conversation with Markham. The noblewoman had an easy way with her words -- at least when compared with the outdoorsman. Then, too, Rhydd was of the opinion that the babel of many voices was generally not helpful when it came to a having a productive discussion.

And so it was that Rhydd took a seat and turned his thoughts inward, curious as to whether he could feel any warning-signs that the bite of the Were-creature was having any ill effects on him. Well, other than what might be expected from a normal bite-wound, that is . . .
This message was last edited by the player at 17:18, Mon 08 Aug 2022.

"Malcer Estal," Fingin answered. "Though none but Old Man Reinar calls him by his given name."

Sheriff Markham Southwell thanked Mallory for the information, and further went on to say that he will consider a course of action alongside the speaker come morrow. He did appear sympathetic to the unfortunate tribesmen's plight, to those who had been caught in the wake of their tribes' folly, and vowed they would search for solutions for them.

He then, somewhat hesitantly, produced a few sacks of coin from his drawer. Two hundred in total. While specifying it wasn't much, he hoped it would soothe any distress this undertaking might have caused.

---

Back in Geldenstag's rest, Dannika and Moyrah was found as they had been left — with zero knowledge of any Malar-wosrhipping tribesmen roaming the outskirts. Particularly oblivious was the Chwinga, who played along in Dannika's pages. Astre's return had it ecstatic.

The rest of the night passed uneventfully, and the next morning, when twilight rose, it became time to visit the Old Trapper's cabin. If he was happy at Fingin's return, saddened by the demise of the others, or frightened by the prospect of cannibalistic Lycanthropes he didn't show it. When prompted, he willingly parted with the bow, which he kept in a small, dusty closet alongside the usual worn and weary things one could expect to find there. The fact that it was a marvelously crafted Elvish longbow apparently awarded it no special treatment from the Old trapper.

But a marvelous creation it was. Far from a humble one, its sleek and elegant curves made its origin obvious, and the wood was perfectly supple — not too limber and not too taut. It required some effort to draw, as it should be, and it was well suited for someone of Rhydd's strength.

It came with a quiver made to match. A blackened leather case decorated with a sprawling tree. It was, to the Old Trapper's explanation, completely ordinary and redundant, but the Elves he had received it from insisted he carry it as well. It was Rhydd's to take or leave.

---

To reiterate, the Longbow is a +1 Longbow.

One night's stabling will cost Mallory 5 sp.

"I've never seen its like," Rhydd muttered, his eyes alive with excitement, as he took the bow in hand. At least the old trapper had known not to leave the stave strung, and with a slight grunt of effort, Rhydd bent it sufficiently to slide the bowstring into the notches on each end.

Then he set about testing the longbow's draw, flexing it and aiming imaginary arrows out the window. "It has an inner . . . 'thrum' -- energy, I suppose would be the right word for it," he said after a moment's testing. "It is not o'erwhelming, and it might take an archer's hands to feel it. But it is there. I can feel it."

He bowed to Malcer. "Thank you, sir. It is truly a wonder, and I promise you that I shall put it to good use."

~~A wondrous bow such as this should not live its life tucked away in a dark, dank closet, any more than a spirited mount should do so. It is meant to be drawn in the face of the enemies of its people, to breathe fresh air and thrive in the dappled sunlight that finds its way through the vibrant greenery of the deep forest. It is truly a work of wonder and magicks.~~

"And I thank you again," Rhydd murmured when the trapper pulled out the black-leather quiver with its depiction of what the archer took to be the World Tree. "I shall keep the bow and the quiver together, as their makers intended them to be."

The outdoorsman chuckled. "I wonder when I shall next see Eyes-of-the-Hawk?" he mused, naming the Elven ranger whom Rhydd counted as a friend and battle-companion. "I'll wager that he would love to see this bow and quiver, to feast his eyes upon their workmanship and run his fingers over the wood and leather."

He glanced around at his companions, and smiled a broad, heartfelt smile. "Thank you for making this possible. I am like unto a child in a shop full of sweetmeats."

Turning again to the old trapper, Rhydd said "If you will, remind again how these items came into your ownership."

"Mmh," Reinar, the Old Trapper concurred as Rhydd strung and familiarized himself the bow. "A good bow. It was down in Luruar where I was given it. I knew the region, so I helped the elves track and slay some Gnolls that had been bothering the nearby folk. No sweat off my back, but they wanted to give it to me anyway. Had a name and everything. Don't remember it, and don't know what a bow is to do with a name."

"Ah, the Silver Marches," Rhydd replied to the trapper's explanation.
"Wonderful area. Lots of Orcs up in the mountains nearby, but that just provides some good hunting," he added with a feral grin.

"And 'tis a useful thing to know that this bow was gifted with a name by the Elves. A named weapon . . ." his voice trailed off, with the archer mayhap thinking of what that might mean.

"Thank you Master Malcer," Rhydd said at length. "'Tis a wonderful weapon, intended to be used against the foes of the Fair Folk and all of us who try to hold 'gainst the o'ereaching of the Darkness, where'er our journeys may take us."

"I shall do my best to wield it wisely, and as its makers intended."

"Do with it as you wish," the Old Trapper said. "Use it as kindling for all I care. It's a bow. Nothing more."

---

On the road once again, one could find it to be much more accommodating than the day prior. It snowed softly in the wintry twilight, and Hopwood was passed without sight or sound of Reghedmen, Lycanthropic or otherwise. The Eastway was as it had always been — a cold and safe pathway for merchants and farefolk. One now occupied solely by Rhydd, Mallory, Farwalker, and Khulekani, that was.

Wifni and Zula trudged along, dragging the sled behind them, for eight quiet hours before the caer of Caer-Dineval came into view. Or what was the lights lit inside the caer, for the overcast weather blanketed the dale in darkness. But atop the rocky shore of Caer-Dineval, overlooking Lac Dinenshere, sat the small castle which had once briefly, centuries prior, been the heart of Icewind Dale's rule. Winding down from the cliff and connecting with the town's modest harbor were the residences of the common folk, and a ruined watchtower sat at the very base. Similarly to Maer Dualdon, the immediate lake was frozen, but the townsfolk here enjoyed a far shorter walk out to open waters for only a stone throws away did the ice break into floes.

If Targos was bleak, Caer-Dineval was bleaker. Not a soul roamed the streets, and most of the windows were dark. Such was the case for the town's only inn as well, Dinev's Rest. It was a drafty old building with a crooked weathervane in the shape of a rearing dragon. It was also closed. Very closed. The front door was locked and the windows were boarded up. Not a sound escaped it.

But the Uphill Climb, the town's tavern close to the caer, was open for business. And Rhydd knew the proprietor was not the welcoming sort. Roark was a bitter, rugged middle-aged man, unfit to run a tavern by most measures and all alone within his own establishment. Despite the hour, not a single patron was present.

"No rooms," Roark mumbled, looking no worse for wear. "Your best bet is to knock on the castle door. Though I can't guarantee Crannoc will welcome you with open arms," Crannoc being the heavily disliked Town Speaker, "with how he's been of late."
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:45, Mon 15 Aug 2022.

18th of Uktar
Mallory was honestly rather surprised that the Sheriff would offer a token for their trouble; it hadn't been expected at all and her first thought was to actually refuse it.  But where a charitable spirit was her natural reaction, a trained merchant's sensibilities spoke up in her thoughts and urged her to take the gold.  A good deed was its own reward, of course, but it didn't need to be the only reward.

---

Though both Mallory and Astre were happy to reunite with their friends, both were equally worn from their brief misadventure out of town.  Mallory by her drained energy and emotional exhaustion while Astre was simply wounded.  He at least managed to indulge the Chwinga in batting small items back and forth across a tabletop while he rested to ease his pains, surely to the relief of the barkeep to not have them rampaging all around like before.

The young noble herself had a deep inclination to lose herself down into the bottom of a bottle... but, thankfully, refocused herself onto something productive.  Rather than spend her evening boozing away her stress and exhaustion, she instead busied herself with the management of a long strip of Troll fur she'd prepared prior.  Though much of the Ice Troll fodder had been sold prior she held onto just enough for her own purposes; a lengthy portion of preserved hide was the center of her attention as she spent the evening quietly etching complex, barely-visible glyphs onto its surface with a needle.

---

19th of Uktar
The next day began as the one prior; an early start, an early breakfast, and Mallory waiting until they'd gotten a short ways out of town before she conjured up a sled for the group to ride.

"I'd say the new bow suits you quite well, Rhydd.  When we have some time to ourselves, let me look it over a while; I might be able to strengthen or alter the enchantment for you." she offered once she'd finished her summoning.  "Though if you'd be so kind, could you or Squire Kumalo please drive the sled today?  I've some work I'd like to focus on and several hours of dreary winter landscape to do it with."

---

The various faces of Ten-Towns had failed to impress Mallory at any point given her familiarity with far more grand locales.  But Caer-Dineval did indeed stand out, if for no other reason than it was far and away the most squalid hole she'd ever set foot into.  Even the dingiest of back alleys in the city slums were a step up from the looks of things.  She wasn't even sure the place wasn't just a ghost town as they drove through... it seemed abandoned at first glance, and she really couldn't blame anyone for doing just that either.

"We don't need rooms, per say, sir.  Just somewhere to put up our beasts and a spot in the common room floor for the rest of us would suit our needs.  We can pay or work for our keep." Roark's gruff manner was no surprise given the state of things.  She couldn't imagine business was good and the prospect of sleeping outside - albeit within her protective spell's cover - seemed all the more likely.  His mention of the castle piqued her interest somewhat, though from what she'd glanced of the old stone walls from a distance she couldn't imagine it was in any better condition.  "I assume Crannoc is the Town Speaker, then?  Has something become of him?"

---

DM - Are there any sort of shops or business at all in this town?  From the map you uploaded it looks like it's just homes aside from the two specified inns/taverns.  Is this place just a deserted town?
This message was last edited by the player at 22:03, Sun 14 Aug 2022.

"Crannoc's fallen ill," Roark said. "He hasn't made a public appearance in months. Nor has he attended councils. If you do see him, inquire about the ferry, will you?" He turned his back to Mallory, grabbed an empty cup to polish from the cupboard behind him, and reiterated what he had first said. "No rooms."

---

The only store in town is Culver's Shop. Hoarder turned merchant.

Upon hearing Mallory's suggestion, Rhydd nodded and took the driver's seat in the sled that the wizardess had conjured up. He nodded, and looked quite pleased, when she mentioned that at some point that she would like to examine his new bow to see if there was any possibility of improving its magicks. "Just let me know when its convenient for you," he said. The bow is already a wonder, but if it can be improved upon . . ."</blue> his voice trailed off, but his smile grew broader.

Rhydd was pleased that the group made it through the Hopwood without being troubled by the Reghedmen -- although, truth be told, he wouldn't have minded shooting some arrows at a Lycanthrope, just to see if the bow worked as advertised.

Once they reached Caer-Dieval, the archer's previous good humor was a thing of the past. He had been here for a long while, and things had seemingly taken a substantial turn for the worse since his last visit.

Roark was just as charming as Rhydd remembered. The outdoorsman chuckled dryly at the tavern-keeper's "No rooms!" insistence.

"Perfectly understandable," Rhydd said with a straight face. "I can see how busy you are."

---

OOC: Roark's scowling "No rooms for you!" puts me in mind of Seinfeld's Soup Nazi. :)

"Perfectly understandable," Rhydd said with a straight face. "I can see how busy you are."

"Indeed.  However could the paying crowds possibly resist such sterling customer service?" Mallory added dryly.  She shared a glance with Astre and a quick shake of her head toward the door, at which the Tressym hopped down from his usual lounge about her shoulders to trot away outside.  He promptly took flight to a nearby rooftop and flitted from eave to eave on his own affairs.

"Rooms aside then, would you at least humor some questions?  We're on the look out for certain folk and are curious to know if they may have passed through this area in recent days." A gloved hand was offered outward as Mallory conjured small illusory figures atop her palm; her Tabaxi uncle, both known forms of Sephek Kaltro, Dzaan, and the trio of missing adventurers who's image she'd plucked from the Red Wizard's memories.

---

On Mallory's urging, Astre's going to poke around the various houses nearby to see if he can find any that are both A) totally abandoned and B) large enough/otherwise capable of housing the group and their mounts inside.

One could tell, even with his back turned, that the remark made Roark knit his brows. "Folks don't go to taverns no more. That's just the way it is these days. With the ferry taken off the lake, coin doesn't flow no more. That's just the way it is." When offered the illusions, he took less than a cursory glance before looking away again. "Nope. Haven't seen 'em."

---

Dinev's Rest appears to fit those criteria. It is a large, two story building and seems entirely abandoned.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:39, Wed 17 Aug 2022.

Rhydd was slightly curious as to the whys and wherefores involving the ferry and why it was no longer making its way across the lake. Mayhap it had sunk, mayhap a monster had suddenly appeared and frightened off the crew, mayhap it had hit something out in the lake and gotten damaged.

But Roark's lack of interest and stand-offishness caused Rhydd to lose interest in conversing further with the man. Hells, he could meet Roark's stand-offishness and raise the man by ten.

Turning his back on the so-called innkeeper and making no further effort to speak with Roark, he asked his companions "Off to speak with Crannoc, then?"

Mallory gave a low grumble of disdain at Roark's insistence at being unhelpful and banished the illusions with a flick of her wrist.  She turned her nose up as well as Rhydd prompted an exit.  "We're certainly not wanted here, in any case..."

Once they'd retired back out into the increasingly awful cold of an Icewind Dale evening, however, the young noble waited just long enough for the door to be shut in their wake before she scoffed aloud.  "I don't know about any of you but this reeks of a scam to me.  A man in his straits should be overjoyed for paying guests, not sending us to some ramshackle excuse for a castle up the hill." she at least had the sense to keep her voice down, even as she likewise hunkered in on herself with arms crossed both against the situation and the chill alike.  "Really.  The Town Speaker of a ghost town hasn't been seen in months by illness?  All the more likely he's just dead or run off in the middle of the night weeks ago."

---

Farwalker's Insight into Roark's truthfulness [19]: His gaze, though brief enough for even the astute to miss, flicked to the three missing adventurers, and for that brief moment his eyes narrowed with curiosity. Those figures had caught his attention above the rest.

"I agree. At the very least we are not getting all of the information. However, I see no harm in at last investigating for ourselves to find out what is really going on. Besides, perhaps this Crannoc will give us nice beds and the rude innkeeper will have just talked his way out of paying customers..." Khulekani agreed, but casually shrugging her armored shoulders.

"Your optimism is inspiring, Squire." Mallory's cynicism balked but she wasn't about to rain on Khulekani because of it.  She raised her arm out for seemingly no reason before Astre silently swooped in from out of nowhere to land along her extended limb with a deft flutter, quick to trot along to relax once more across her shoulders.

"Anything?"

"Mrrm."

"Hm.  Is that irony or poetic justice?" she mulled before she turned her focus back to her other companions.  "Astre's found an abandoned building big enough to house us for the evening, just in case.  So I suppose we decide whether we go to the castle, squat for the night under a fortuitous roof, or just press on for Caer Konig outright."  she counted off on her gloved fingers before they reached up to fondly scratch behind Astre's ears.  "Personally, I'm hardly inclined to do anything that brute asks of us.  He clearly has an agenda.  I'd rather poke around town a bit more first before we decide and see if there's anyone else who might be of more help."

---

Regardless of where the Party decides to go, Mallory would like to visit that hoarder-turned-merchant shop the DM mentioned, just in case.

"I'm fine with, as you say, poking around town for a bit," Rhydd answered Lady Mallory.

The archer glanced up at the leaden sky. "We *should* be able to reach Caer Konig before hard nightfall if nothing goes wrong or delays us. But with all the odd things that have been going on as of late, I'd not want to base our plans on a trouble-free journey."

"That being the case, I believe that I'd vote to stay somewhere within the walls this evening, and start out tomorrow with a full day to reach our goal. Plenty of cushion that way."

Rather than step back outside with the rest of the group, Farwalker stayed where she was, leaning up against the door jamb. She’d already taken her pack off and set it off to the side due to her thinking they’d be staying for a bit, and she wasn’t going to put it on just yet. It wasn’t that she was cold, just curious. So far, each of the towns they’d been in seemed to have something unpleasant wandering around in it, and part of her was wondering if the tender knew about it. So, she pulled out her carving equipment and slowly carved her next piece. She still had some decent winter clothing to finish as well. Not for her, of course. She wasn’t sure who to give it too yet. Maybe she’d make matching sets.

Oh, and the bite itched. She’d take care of that soon enough. But for now, she was curious about how long it would take for the man to notice he still had a large guest in his establishment.

"Blasted lot," Roark harrumphed once he thought his establishment had been vacated. He turned around to grab a cup from the counter, so failed to notice the Goliath lingering. He murmured something incomprehensible to himself and it took the better part of a minute before he turned back and jumped in surprise. "I've told you — no rooms." He drew a sharp line with his hand for finality. "How difficult is it to get through your thick skulls? I can't help you!"

---

Culver's was a modest shop. Or that was at least what one would first assume from the small, ramshackle building that housed it, but a closer inspection yielded a window display with items plentiful enough to constitute a large museum's inventory. There was silverware, cast iron cookware, plates, bowls, glasses, cups, candles, lamps, lanterns, and pipes. Figurines of all kinds, be it Horse, Owlbear, or man, and in all sorts of shapes, material, and condition. Woolen clothing, cotton clothing, fur clothing, hide clothing. Abacuses, augur bits, adzes, and apple corers. Bells, ball bearings, and buckets. Doodads and thingamajigs. Culver's seemed to have it all.

A faint lantern glow lit both the window and the inside of the shop, and Culver himself, a short, bald man with a hawk-like nose, was somewhere in the midst of all his wares, sat on a stool and looking over some disassembled device. When the shop's bell rang, he straightened and peered up over a stack of boxes on his desk. "Oh, oh! Do come in! I am just engaged in . . . something . . . it'll only be a moment . . ."

---

The shop carries everything listed in the Adventure Gear table on page 150 in the PHB. Additionally, the following Tools, Gaming Sets, and Instrumnets are available for purchase:

• Calligrapher's Supplies
• Cook's Utensils
• Cartographer's Tools
• Potter's Tools
• Weaver's Tools
• Woodcarver's Tools
• Dice Set
• Dragonchess Set
• Playing Card Set
• Three Dragon Ante Set
• Dulcimer
• Pan Flute
• Shawm

Furthermore, any character who spends an hour or more inside Culver's may roll an Investigation to see if they can unearth any pearls.

Didn't realize we were going to be narrated over already, so quick retroactive note: Mallory would Ritual Cast "Detect Magic" while on the way to the shop so it'd be up-and-active by the time she arrived.  Just in case there's any especially shiny items hiding in there.  It would be a little gauche to go casting while she was perusing the wares.

With the state of Caer Dineval as it was, Mallory bore little hope for any actual proper commerce to be had.  The most she could wish to find was perhaps a mostly-barren general store with more dust than wares on its shelves.  Thus, when she set foot into Culver's home-turned-shop-turned-storage, she was gifted not only surprise but genuine, bright-eyed delight.  The smile that lit her expression was the happiest she'd worn in weeks - certainly since coming to Ten-Towns itself - and she couldn't help but canter ahead into the cluttered chamber only fawning over the dense array of bric-a-brac.

"Oh, goodness!  Look at all this!  It's wonderful~!" she marveled with hands clasped up beneath her chin.  She hardly knew where to start!  Though the quick call from Culver himself gave her something to focus herself to first.  "Take your time, sir, we'll need a bit to peruse ourselves.  Don't feel as if you need to rush on our-- wait, is that a Cormanthyr Dragon Chess set?  Oh, it's been ages since I had a good game~!  This must have come all the way through Silverymoon to get this far west!"

While the young noble gleefully examined the game board and its well-carved pieces, Astre arched up from his spot atop her shoulders and took a step over to bound away.  Before he did, however, Mallory quickly reached up to snag him by the scruff.  "Astre.  Best.  Behavior." she warned squarely.  "We'll not be having another mess like at Maer Dualdon, am I clear?"

"Rrrwl." the Tressym rolled his eyes in return but seemed to concede as he was promptly released.  He hopped to the floor from his companion's shoulders, took a moment to primly groom himself on the spot, and then tucked in to begin shuffling around on his own exploration through literal mountains of clutter.  Mallory watched him go as if not entirely trusting he wouldn't get up to mischief anyway, though she was quite promptly distracted by a rack of various tunics, cloaks, and dresses of all sorts nearby and flounced over to give them a better look.

And a splendid set it was, with all its pieces present! Mallory's elation did not go unnoticed, and Culver had climbed down from his stool to make his way over to her. He was a slow, aged man, but moved through his maze of clutter with feline precision. Everything was clearly arrayed deliberately, if competing for space. "Why yes, yes it is," he said and adjusted his spectacles. "An Avatar set, to be precise. Not an authentic one, mind you, as you can see from this," he grabbed the black king, which was in the image of Cyric, and flipped it to show an inscription at the base. "'71'," Culver read aloud. "The chances are slim it dates to 1371 — you wouldn't find anything like this in such pristine condition. No, far more likely this is but a replica. I purchased it not too long ago off of a visitor from Loudwater, but he could not say for sure. A pity, that."

---

While most of the items in the shop are mundane, Mallory can scope out a few that aren't on a general sweep. Keep in mind that there might be some that are blocked by all the clutter, or the magical item itself is kept in a metal container (as was the case with Triglio's crossbow bolts). The 1 hour search rule still applies.

• An orb (Divination)
• A doll (Illusion)
• A die (Divination)
• A needle (Abjuration)
• A metal can (Conjuration)

Items don't have schools associated with them in 5e, but a quick google search tells me they used to in previous editions. That's good enough for me!
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:07, Thu 25 Aug 2022.

Yeah, while items themselves don't have a specific school unless the item description states a more specific clue (ie; "it gives off a mild aura of Abjuration..."), it generally falls to DM discretion or whether or not the item is performing a listed spell effect.  For instance, a Wand of Magic Missile would show as Evocation because of the spell it holds.

As for an Investigation - assuming folk are okay with indulging Mallory and letting her peruse for that amount of time - I'll have Astre Help her for the sake of Advantage while he's scuttling around looking for things she may not notice herself.  Since Mallory knows what can shield a magic item from detection, they'll both be keeping an eye out for boxes and containers that fit the description in particular.

---

"Still quite a charming item all the same.  It's wonderful what remarkable trinkets find their way through so many hands.  Reminds me of home - I could spend every day in the marketplaces and never tire of it." Mallory sighed fondly while she held a rather fetching blouse up against herself to examine its potential, though she could only pout when she realized it'd be much too snug across the chest.  Back it went, carefully folded up to a tidy bundle just as she'd found it.

"Mallory Bonheur, sir.  Pleased to make your acquaintance... especially after the rather cold reception we got from Mister Roark." she offered a polite curtsy as the shopkeep himself came about to tend to them.  "We've got a bit of a trek ahead of ourselves and I was hoping to stock up on some road supplies.  Dry rations and healing supplies especially, should you have them.  You just never know what mishaps can strike on the road."

Her conversation was briefly interrupted by a tumble as Astre rolled out from a crevasse between two large piles of books and a very outdated globe.  All purrs and fluff as he dragged a doll along in his jaws and braced himself up against Mallory's leg with a hopeful rise.  She just sighed and swept down to take the doll from him without missing a beat, at which Astre promptly turned and scampered away once more.  "Don't you have enough toys already?  What did you even do with the last one you-- and he's gone." she rolled her eyes but didn't object as she tucked the illusion-emitting doll into the crook of her arm.  The young noble afforded Culver an apologetic smile but extended her open palm all the same.

Just as with Roark, a flare of arcane energy whisked about through the air above her outstretched hand to form into the familiar visages of those many individuals she had an eye out for of late.  "Speaking of travels, you wouldn't happen to have seen any of these folk come through of late, have you?  This Tabaxi fellow in particular?  He's a merchant by trade himself."

A faint clatter sounded out as a slim metal can went rolling along the floor, quickly chased by Astre as he batted it along all the way into the side of Mallory's boot.  She didn't even bat an eye as she just scooped it up as well and added it to her armful.  Seemingly bereft of another plaything, the Tressym darted off once more in pursuit of others.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:29, Thu 25 Aug 2022.

Khulekani had no great purchases to make herself. She had already outfitted herself and Zula with all that they might need for some time. But there was no harm in doing a bit of window shopping. Especially in such a quaint northern rustic environment. Besides, Mallory seemed to be enjoying herself, and that made the Squire happy. These colorful people that she had attached herself to had gone through much hardship in the short time that they had been associated. It was good to have some relief.

And so she poked around, looking for whatever treasures that this business might contain. Almost unconsciously, her hand scooped up the Owlbear figurine. It was cute and fierce at the same time. Perhaps she should have some memento of her adventures in the North?

"Excuse me, Master Culver? How much for this lovely Owlbear figurine?" she asked, holding up the item in question.

OOC Mechanics
10:08, Today: Khulekani Kumalo rolled 13 using 1d20. Investigation.

"I am afraid I must disappoint," Culver said, "I have little in terms of medicinal supplies. Nor can I offer you any food . . . purely on the grounds that I am not allowed to. Speaker Crannoc is adamant on this matter — any excess food shall be handed over to the keep. Times are rough, after all."

The metal can, which was without opening or lid, produced a faint sound of shifting sand as it was rolled across the floor, but otherwise appeared ordinary. The stuffed doll, too, had no apparent magical properties and wouldn't have registered as anything but mundane hadn't it been for Mallory's spell.

When Khulekani extended the figurine, Culver once again adjusted his spectacles to focus, his eyes magnified thrice over by the thick glass. "A lovely specimen, this one. I was gifted it, along with some other figures, by a passing Dwarf who had a knack for sculpting these," Culver offered. The figurine itself, which could fit in ones palm, was cast in solid brass and bore a golden accent on an otherwise matte surface. "I'll part with it for two silver. And if you do have anything of interest, I am avid collector . . . as you might be able to tell. Although," he began as a somber expression took him, "funds don't reach quite as far as they used to . . ."

He leaned in close when Mallory showed him the illusions. "My, that would be my good friend Hukkush! Unless my eyes deceive me, which they often do . . . A pleasant tradesman from Bryn Shander. He owns a packet company. I have oft times done business with him whenever I or he are in town. If I need something specific from the Sword Coast, it is him I entrust with the task. He truly has an acumen for commerce. But I'm probably telling you something you already know . . . Why do you ask? Has something become of him?"

---

I'll deal with the Investigation rolls in bulk, so roll away if you intend to do so.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:11, Fri 26 Aug 2022.

"Really?  We'd heard the Speaker had taken ill quite a while ago.  Is he managing the town from his sickbed or does he have a staff handling matters in his stead?" Mallory already suspected a scheme with Roark to begin with but her wariness mounted all the higher as she mulled on those sort of possibilities.

"I'll part with it for two silver. And if you do have anything of interest, I am avid collector... as you might be able to tell. Although," he began as a somber expression took him, "funds don't reach quite as far as they used to..."

"I dare say we may be able to help with that somewhat.  Even in collectibles as well for a bit of barter?" A gloved hand reached within her satchel to retrieve the delicate wooden Tressym figurine Farwalker had carved, as well as the ornamental Reghedmen dagger Mallory herself had collected prior.  As soon as she did, however, Astre popped his head up from amid a pile of nearby clutter and gave a rather pointed yowl of objection.  "Yes, yes, I know Astre.  The figurine isn't for sale, but I could introduce you to the craftswoman who made it.  Otherwise there's coin for the rest."

When it turned out Culver knew Hukkush personally, and to such a fond degree, Mallory's expression lit up even brighter than ever.  Such obvious relief as she gave a happy trill and sigh alike.  "No, no, nothing's become of him as far as I know.  He's too clever to endanger himself by traveling unprepared.  I've come this far north to work with him in his company, but a spurious cad of a wagonsman delayed my arrival to Bryn Shander by days.  When I finally got there, he'd already left town.  I hope he's merely away on business but I worry he might be looking for me as well and we've been walking past one another without realizing it." she explained at length.  "You see, he's my uncle.  By marriage, of course, but still.  He practically raised me alongside my parents; he and my father taught me everything I know about the trade growing up."

---

Mallory - Investigation
Mallory Bonheur rolled 27 using 1d20+7

Astre - Investigation
Mallory Bonheur rolled 1 using 1d20

The dice have given me an absolutely hilarious turnabout.  I initially said I wanted to have Astre Help for the sake of Advantage, but ended up rolling a Nat 20 on my very first roll.  So no Advantage needed.  Instead I rolled an individual Investigation for Astre with his +0 skill modifier and he got a Nat 1.  XD  The pendulum swings hard!  It also makes a ton of sense; put a cat in a clutter-filled room and of course he'll be distracted!

DM Bears - items like Healing Potions, Healer's Kit, and Rations are on the aforementioned list of available items.  If those are specifically off the table in this situation, are there any others that are also unavailable?
This message was last edited by the player at 16:58, Fri 26 Aug 2022.

---

Whoops, my bad. I guess I should have given that list a once-over. Yes, here are the items not available;

• Alchemist's Fire
• Arcane Foci
• Druidic Foci
• Healer's Kit
• Holy Symbols
• Holy Water
• Potion of Healing
• Rations
• Spellbook

She gently blew a little bit of dust off of the figurine she was carving instead of answering immediately. She eyed the marks critically, before nodding in satisfaction. Mallory had been next, and it was a good likeness. She was rather proud of the red jasper she'd used for the cloak, and everything fit together perfectly without a hit of looseness. It was a simple masterpiece in it's way. Something she'd hang from her hair, or keep tied to her clothing along with all her carved beads. She held it up into a brighter portion of the building, letting the light catch the colours. "I think it's a rather decent likeness. I made one of the cat, but the little beast scampered off with it. Not sure where it got to. Perhaps some child has it now." She folded her large fingers around the piece and tucked it away into a pouch.

It had only taken a single stride for her to cross a large distance of the room, and her smile was wide and friendly, her eyes shimmering with pearlescent sheen. "Now, me, I don't care much if you don't help me. I matter little, and the cold doesn't much bother me. It makes quite the nice bed, in fact. Sometimes easier than pushing two together. But, those three adventurers, I hear they've been missing for a little while. One of my tenets is finding those that are lost. Are you certain you know nothing about them?" She finished with an amiable smile, teeth glinting like polished marble, unknowingly looming in the rather empty room.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:22, Sun 28 Aug 2022.

"Of course sir, that is more than a fair price..." Khulekani replied, fishing out the silver from her coin-purse.

While the aspiring Paladin had never seen an Owlbear in real life before, every artistic rendering of them that she had seen had imparted a sense of power and majesty in her. Much like artistic representations of Griffons or Pegusi. Only, those seemed more regal and graceful, while the Owlbear radiated a primal power. Packing the item away in her bag, she lightly walked around while the other concluded their business.

"I'm afraid I have nothing to sell you. I don't have many possessions," the dark-skinned woman replied with a shrug to Culver.

~~Junk, junk, and more junk*,~~ Rhydd thought to himself as he peered around at everything that was crammed inside the building. At least Lady Mallory had the good sense to ask about things that had some real value -- foodstuffs and medicine. Unfortunately the merchant (who answered to "Culver")  replied that neither of those things were available.

It did not take Rhydd long to begin feeling an itch in the small of his back, and he began to break out in a cold sweat. He recognized the symptoms for what they were -- whenever he found himself feeling too closed in and pressed upon, it was not uncommon for him to begin feeling this way. If he ignored the warnings for long enough, he would start to find it difficult to breathe until he got some fresh air and space around himself.**

 Just as the archer had turned towards the door of the shop, he heard Culver speak of not only knowing, but oft-times doing business with Mallory's uncle -- whom Rhydd knew the noblewoman wanted very much to locate.

~~Well, mayhap something useful will come out of this after all,~~ he thought to himself as he stepped through the door, breathing in great gulps of fresh air as he did so.

---

OOC:

* I suspect that there was a medieval word for "junk", but I don't know what it was. So I just used the modern-day wording. :)

**Rhydd doesn't know the word for it, but he sometimes suffers from claustrophobia.

"Well, I haven't seen him in quite a while," Culver told Mallory. "A year perhaps? That was back in Bryn Shander, but I seem to recall him saying something about commuting to Termalaine for business errands. I heard tell that the mine has reopened and the Dwarves have returned, so I imagine there are profits to be found there nowadays. Oh, mere speculation on my part." He waved a dismissive hand, intended mostly for himself. "Don't listen to me. The truth is I do not know of his whereabouts. I wish I could have helped you more."

---

The otherwise stone-faced, mustachioed innkeeper recoiled from Farwalker's stride, and for a moment he seemed lost for words. The Goliath's smile did not help the matter. "I . . ." he eeped, his voice unintentionally jumping an octave. He grabbed his collar and swallowed. "Maybe I saw them. Those adventurers. Mercenaries. A Reghedman, a Dwarf, and a Halfling. They stopped by here what, a Tenday and two ago? I told them the same thing I've now told you — no rooms."

Ultimately, Mallory could only give a somewhat dramatic shrug and toss of her hands - doing so scattered the illusions away like so much smoke.  "That certainly sounds like his style.  He's a wonderful businessman but he's always been a bit lackadaisical when it comes to keeping contact.  Always said it was a Tabaxi thing." she sighed.  "Well, it's of little consequence.  Ten-Towns isn't that big so I'm certain to cross his path sooner than later.  For now, it was worth it to meet an associate of my Uncle's.  Once I begin work with his company here, I imagine you and I might be seeing more of each other."

A thought crossed Mallory mind and her expression shifted to a look akin to having bitten into a lemon.  She brought a palm to bear again and conjured another illusion; the blase demeanor of Niels swirled into view, stood above her outstretched hand.  "Speaking as a soon-to-be associate, allow me to give you some free advice: avoid dealing with this man.  He's a wagon master named Niels. He's the one who delayed and stranded me.  From what I've learned since, he's also doing some unsavory dealings and taking advantage of the merchants he's ferrying." she explained with bitter vehemence in her tone.  "I'll certainly be giving this cad a piece of my mind next I see him, and I'd advise you not to do business with him, for your own sake.  He's a cheat and a scoundrel."

Matters of business outside the shop were one thing to be taken or ignored as one saw fit.  But for the time being, there was business to do inside the shop that was of more pressing importance.  Khulekani might've been satisfied with a simple purchase while Rhydd craved space more than anything, but the young noble was simply far too eager to dig about and gather items into her arms one after another.  Culver might've bemoaned a lack of coin but, with Mallory's arrival, he'd get a bit of a windfall at the very least.

---

I'll summarize Mallory's shopping here so we can move along as quickly as need be.  PHB-standard Items:

Bag of Ballbearings        -  1 gp
Blanket                    -  5 sp
Climber's Kit              - 25 gp
Tinderbox                  -  5 sp
Dragonchess Set            -  1 gp
Dice Set                   -  1 sp
Rope (50')                 -  1 gp
Block and Tackle           -  1 gp

There's a few items that aren't necessarily on the PHB list but are in the same neighborhood, so I'll leave that up to DM discretion if they're able to be found:

Matchless Pipe             - ? (This item appears in "Waterdeep Dragon Heist" but has no listed value.  It's basically a combination of a quality smoking pipe and a tinderbox, so 5 SP at least?  If a Matchless version isn't available, then at least a normal, well-crafted Smoking Pipe instead)
Specific Tobacco           - ? (Assuming Culver has any tobacco/a variety thereof.  Mallory wants to try and find the specific scent Naerth smokes, as Astre should be able to identify.)
Petrified Wood or Bone     - ?
Chwinga-sized Doll Clothes - ?
Fine Woolen Scarf          - ?
A Book on An Obscure Topic - ?

Mallory also wants to pick up all of the magic items she spotted, though that depends a lot on their price/whether or not Culver realizes they're magical and charges accordingly.  In general, Mallory will only begin to haggle if an individual item's price tag goes over 30 GP.  Otherwise she'll pay without complaint.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:09, Fri 02 Sept 2022.

"Well, that certainly does seem like Niels," Culver said as he squinted to focus on the illusory figure, "but it doesn't sound like him. He is quite the honorable ranger, given my recollection. Are you certain it was him and that he was behind this?"

---

I'll roll on some of these to see if Mallory finds them. There are certain things he would definitely stock, and some he definitely wouldn't.

Matchless Pipe [20]: Found. It is nonmagical, with a flint mechanism to automatically light the pipe's contents. 2 gp
Naerth's Tobacco [14]: Found. The specific brand is called Sapho Slims and is manufactured in Baldur's Gate. 3 sp/ounce
Petrified Wood or Bone [Not in stock]: Not found.
Chwinga Sized Clothes [In stock]. Found. Mallory has an array to pick and choose from as there are quite a few dolls in the store. 1 cp/item
Fine Woolen Scarf [In stock]: Found. A sapphire scarf that flares broadly and is tipped with long tassels. 2 gp
A Book on an Obscure Topic [In stock]: Found x2.

• From Ghouls to Ghosts by an unknown author. While captivating, the book is chaotic and hard to understand due to an unusual dialect. Contained within are descriptions of the Ethereal Plane along with methods of interplanar travel and how they can be utilized to achieve functional immortality. 8 gp
• Anatomical Studies of Magical Creatures III by Eviure, Arcane Scholar of Candlekeep. It details the interior structure of magical and extraplanar beings. 10 gp

Khulekani's Investigation [13]: A clockwork amulet. She can hear faint ticking and whirring noises coming from within when putting her ear to it. Emits an aura of Divination. 20 gp

Mallory's Investigation [24]: An Emerald Pen. Emits an aura of Illusion. 150 gp
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:30, Sun 04 Sept 2022.

"Oh, I'm quite certain.  He nearly got us eaten by wolves then left us stranded in the cold instead of ferrying us to our contracted destination.  And it appears he's got some racket going as he forced all the merchants to offload their wares in Targos before taking them any further." Mallory insisted primly.  "I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news but, if you know Niels to be a better sort than that, he's apparently suffered a rather poor turn of character as of late.  Perhaps he has gambling debts?"

---

What about the prices for the five magical items Mallory picked up in her initial scan?

Also, is the price of the Emerald Pen because it's made of gemstone or because Culver knows it's magical?  If the former, Mallory would like to haggle on the price.  If the latter, she won't haggle but would request to cast "Identify" on it first.

“No rooms.” She repeated slowly, letting the words roll through her mouth and into the empty room. Or at least, mostly empty. “No service, either. Yet, you keep the building open and ready.” She crossed her arms and let her eyes take in the rest of place, “I dislike mysteries. Every town since I’ve returned seems to have one. Why turn away good gold, ‘tender? A dislike of strangers? Something else?” A hand moved up to tug at a medallion threaded into her hair, the hair of the bone carving flashing red for a brief instant. ”Speak.” Her voice echoed through the wood as she called on a brief spark of power. “Know that I seek balance on behalf of the Lady Firehair. This land is full of pointless death and destruction. Will you help, or is there no room?” The last word was only a little mocking, and the sneer was barely noticeable.

OOC: Just a bit of thaumaturgy for some echoing voice power.

"Perhaps . . ." Culver relucted as Mallory went into further detail on Niels. "Although, I always took him for quite an orderly man. I cannot speak to his current character, but if it helps him escape some judgement I have nothing but good things to say of him. He was no dastard. Perhaps it is this curse that linger over us that is to blame . . . it has shaken things up quite thoroughly, and undoubtedly some people as well. I wonder what has become of Alma then?"

---

Roark gulped. "It is entirely within my right to deny service to whomever I please," he said. Farwalker could tell he was trying to remain confident in face of her booming voice, but his voice was low and weak. "Especially for . . ." he stopped himself short of finishing the sentence. "There are no rooms. Now, out."

---

Orb of Time. Culver knows it is magical and what purpose it serves. 100 gp
Talking Doll. Culver does not know it is magical and thinks it an ordinary doll. 5 gp
Charlatan's Die. Culver knows it is magical and would demonstrate its properties for Mallory if shown it. 75 gp
Needle. Culver does not know it is magical. 1 cp
Metal Can. Culver knows it is magical and finds it neat, but of little worth. 5 gp
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:37, Sun 04 Sept 2022.

"Alma?  Still with him, last I knew.  Same as their other cohorts; Salim and Mikel." Mallory added while she mulled over various nearby trinkets that caught here eye here and there.  "If you're willing to vouch for him, then I suppose I can at least give Niels a chance to explain himself rather than just slapping him across the cheek next I see him.  But I don't have high hopes.  I've seen plenty of merchants fall victim to greed and easy money over the years."

Amid her searching she was quite pleased to find a rather nice smoking set, doubly so when there were different blends of tobacco on offer as well.  It wasn't to her own preference but Mallory still held up each jar of dried weed for Astre to have a sniff at before he pointed one out specifically for her.  "A half pound of this type, please.  Also, do you happen to have a courier in town who will run deliveries?  I'd like some of these items sent to others amid Ten-Towns, but it's no bother if I ultimately have to do it myself."

---

Mallory will purchase all the mundane items and a few of the special ones.  Also, if Khulekani wants to buy that clockwork amulet she found, Mallory will offer to pay for it as a gesture of gratitude for her help so far.

Bag of Ballbearings        -   1 gp
Blanket                    -   5 sp
Climber's Kit              -  25 gp
Tinderbox                  -   5 sp
Dragonchess Set            -   1 gp
Dice Set                   -   1 sp
Rope (50')                 -   1 gp
Block and Tackle           -   1 gp
Matchless Pipe             -   2 gp
Naerth's Tobacco           -   2 gp, 4 sp (8 ounces)
Chwinga Sized Clothes      -   3 cp
Fine Woolen Scarf          -   2 gp
Obscure Books              -  18 gp (total)
Emerald Pen                - 150 gp
Charlatan's Die            -  75 gp
Needle                     -   1 cp
                Subtotal  - 279 gp, 5 sp, 4 cp
                            (299 gp, 5 sp, 4 cp if Khulekani accepts)

If Khulekani accepts the offer, Mallory will offer to round up to 300 GP total and then haggle down from there, just to make the numbers easier if it comes to applying a percentage.  Otherwise she'll round up to 280 GP instead if Khulekani abstains.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:15, Sun 04 Sept 2022.

"Once again, I apologize for interrupting your commerce and conversation, but do you know the provenance and purpose of this device?" the Squire asked, holding up the clockwork amulet.

She knew that Dwarves and Gnomes could make truly intricate devices like music-boxes and clock-towers, so she was curious if this thing was of a similar make and purpose. Being able to accurately tell the time could come in very handy, for instance.

"Giving souls a chance to change and repent is a virtue my friend," she said piously to Mallory.

It might sound like a platitude coming from someone else's mouth, but from the aspiring knight, it sounded earnest and passionate.

(Second attempt, now with 50% less effort!)

"I'm a firm believer in second chances, Squire, but Niels has already crossed me twice.  A character witness is the only thing sparing him a third." Mallory shook her head over the matter.  The odd bit of clockwork discovered amid the sea of baubles made for an interesting distraction though, and she leaned in to give it a curious bit of scrutiny.

"Function aside, its form is quite charming." she observed.  "If you'd fancy it, please, allow me to buy it for you.  A token of appreciation for all you've done for us."

"I'm afraid there's not much traffic to and fro these days," Culver said. "Even the ferry has been shut down. Your best bet for delivery would be to approach the castle with your request."

"Hmm, this thing?" he began when shown the clockwork amulet. "A peculiar contraption, indeed. I found it in a box of things, and I have not been able to pinpoint its purpose as of yet. At first I thought it a timepiece, but there's no lid to reveal neither face nor hands. But the ticking is very regular . . . perhaps that is enough for some?"

---

Sorry, I forgot to address this; Culver knows the Emerald Pen is magical and that it is used to write illusory script.

Roll me a Persuasion, Mallory, to haggle.

"A metronome, perhaps?"

One by one Mallory laid out the various items she'd either gathered up on her own or pointed to for Culver to retrieve, were they out of her reach to begin with behind his counter space.  Any item for purchase was due proper inspection, though that went double for used goods; various scuffs and dings were perhaps to be expected, but that didn't mean it would allow the price to remain at full either.

"Speaking of the castle and ferry, what's gone on there of late?  Mister Roark mentioned there's been no sighting of the Speaker in months from illness, and bade us to ask on the state of the ferry." It wasn't exactly small talk while she appraised the items, but something well worth considering given their options ahead.  She didn't like the idea of walking blind into a suspicious place when everyone else in town seemed to be aware but keeping tight-lipped.  "I must say, I'm highly disinclined to go anywhere near the castle if there's plague afoot."

---

Persuasion - Haggling
Mallory Bonheur rolled 13 using 1d20+4

"Well . . ." Culver began, fidgeting with his fingers as he averted his gaze. The topic clearly brought him some discomfort. "Crannoc has been bedridden ever since his . . . guests took up residence. Frankly, it's been almost a Tenday since we've seen or heard from him, and I can only hope he hasn't succumbed to his illness. It is Kadroth, the castle steward, who has managed affairs while Crannoc is indisposed, and as of recently . . ." He stopped himself and jumped over a couple of words mid-sentence. "Oh, listen to me meddle. Pay me no heed. Statecraft was never my forte, hence why I only manage a modest shop."

---

Mallory's Persuasion to haggle on price [13]: Mallory and Khulekani have been nothing but cordial with Culver. He appreciates that, and is willing to give you a 15% discount on the total (so either 30 gp or 27 gp, depending on Khulekani's decision).
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:45, Sun 11 Sept 2022.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly expect you to pay for it. I appreciate the gesture, but please allow me to pay for it," Khulekani replied, despite looking rather touched by the gesture.

"Besides, I'm pretty sure the ideals of generosity and honesty mean 'pay for your own damn things,' as my old weapon master would say," she said with a wry grin.

She hastily passed over the coins so that Mallory wouldn't insist. It's not that the Squire disliked presents. But something about shopping for your own gift that someone else paid for felt a bit off to her sensibilities.

OOC Mechanics
Pay 30 gp
This message was last edited by the player at 19:42, Mon 12 Sept 2022.

Culver's particular reply brought an ever-so-faint narrowing to Mallory's carefully mascaraed eyes.  But, rather than press on him, she simply gave a gentle shrug and toss of her dark hair to one side.  "Well, no need to go sticking our noses into others' affairs, really.  It's none of our business." she dismissed the matter without further ado.

Khulekani's polite refusal was indeed initially met with a soft "But please, I insist--" only for the young noble to be overruled by coin pushed out in hasty denial.  Mallory could only shrug it off as she sifted about through her own purse, quick to stack a row of tidy little towers of twenty gold apiece along the countertop.  "Suit yourself, Squire.  Though you've only assured that I'll find some other way to repay you, with interest." she cast a good-natured wink Khulekani's way.

"We've taken up enough of Mister Culver's time, I feel.  You've been wonderfully generous with our company, sir, though if you'd indulge one last question?" All business even among pleasantries; Mallory made quite a bit of impressive packing when it came to stowing away the smaller items into her satchel, though shouldering it made her keenly miss Dannika's Bag of Holding.  She'd have to fashion one herself sooner than later.  "Mister Roark denied us rooms at his establishment and urged us to stay at the castle.  Is there anywhere else in town we might find a friendly roof to sleep under instead?  Along with a pair of riding beasts in tow?"

---

Mallory pays 252 GP, 5 SP, 4 CP for the lot.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:07, Mon 12 Sept 2022.

Culver shook his head. "Our town has grown most unkind as of recent. Roark would undoubtedly argue it is merely an adaptation, one we must all make shall we make it through the Frostmaiden's curse. I have tried, to no avail, to convince him that the exact opposite must be true." He cast a glance over his own lodging, as if reconsidering the impossibility of housing guests in all this clutter. A fool's errand, of course. "No, I am afraid I don't know where you could head. The inn's closed as well. And if you want my advice," he said in a lower, far more reluctant voice, "stay clear of the castle. Make the journey to Easthaven or Caer Konig. Things here . . . aren't as they should."
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:35, Mon 12 Sept 2022.

Ah, there it was.  Any sense of satisfaction Mallory might've felt at being correct in her suspicions that something was afoot was smothered under her natural inclination to help others.  She passed a look Khulekani's way: despite Culver's advice, she doubted the Squire nor Farwalker would stay well enough away once they heard there was trouble.

"Are the townsfolk in some sort of danger from these guests of the Speaker?" she matched Culver's low voice as she leaned in nearer over their various wares and payments.

Though her mind was promptly abuzz with possibilities, Mallory had to concede it was most likely a case similar to Targos; a less-than-hostile takeover of the town's authority by some outside force looking to turn a profit.  Naerth had mentioned he had agents elsewhere in the Ten-Towns... though it that was the case at hand, Mallory would have to decide on where she stood amid the Speakers of Targos and Bryn Shander much sooner than planned.

"Oh, no, no," Culver was quick to add as he waved his hands dismissively. "It is just the worries of an old man. There is certainly no threat to us townsfolk, most assuredly. Forget I said anything at all."

 A low laugh rumbled from Farwalker as she shrugged. “Yes. It is. Good luck staying afloat, then. A good sailing metaphor, I think.” She smiled again, and then shrugged and turned. “Do take care. And watch out for the werebeasts about. They’re quite upset.” With that, she turned and left, searching for the rest of her traveling companions.

Unlocking the door to Dinev's Rest proved no trivial matter, and Mallory had to fumble with the lockpick and tension wrench for several minutes until it finally clicked open. Thankfully, the watchful eye spotted no guards nearby. In fact, there hadn't been a single sighting of a guard all day.

The inside was dry and dusty. And while it was reminiscent of an inn, with stools, tables, and a bar, it was entirely lacking in decorations and warmth. A proud fireplace, long since forlorn, stood at the back wall underneath a faded spot where a crest once hung. So, too, was it eerily silent. While it was never intended to house animals, it was open enough for Wifni to find a comfortable spot to sit and begin cleaning her feathers, and for Zula to stand. When draped with blankets, Wifni, at least, did not seem to care one way or another.

A staircase led to the second floor where bedrooms still contained beds, albeit just the frames. Another staircase led down to the what appeared to be an empty wine cellar.

---

You all get a Long Rest.

Mallory's Identify on the magical items bought at Culver's:

• Emerald Pen: This pen is tipped with an emerald nib and requires no ink to write. While holding this pen, you can cast Illusory Script at will, requiring no material components.
  
• Charlatan's Die: Whenever you roll this six-sided die, you can control which number it rolls. Requies Attunement.
  
• Needle: No matter the force applied to it, this needle will never bend.
  
• Clockwork Amulet: This copper amulet contains tiny interlocking gears and is powered by magic from Mechanus, a plane of clockwork predictability. A creature that puts an ear to the amulet can hear faint ticking and whirring noises coming from within.
  When you make an attack roll while wearing the amulet, you can forgo rolling the d20 to get a 10 on the die. Once used, this property can't be used again until the next dawn.

A run-down and entirely abandoned inn was hardly the sort of place Mallory fancied spending her evening but it was a far cry better than camping out in the snow, or being ushered into apparent suspicious company up at the castle.  Her protective spellcasting ensured comfort and security no matter where it was set up, of course, but there was something to be said for having a bubble of safety in more private confines to begin with.

"So, shall we take stock of what we've learned while we have the chance?" the young noble prompted from her seat at a table to one side of the comfortably warm protective dome she'd conjured.  There was plenty of space to pull in abandoned furniture or push it away to lay out bedrolls for their own convenience.  A good thing too since Mallory had many items to flex her magics over before it was time to settle in for slumber.

"There's most certainly something afoot at the castle.  From the sound of what Mister Culver revealed, the 'caretakers' looking after the Speaker in his illness may not be as such.  What they're up to and how the Speaker is involved - be it victim or accomplice - remains a mystery though." she summarized as she paused her inspection of her new pen to nibble at some dry rations.  That Roark wouldn't even sell them food he might've had just made her all the more displeased with the fellow's stubbornness.  "Whatever is going on here doesn't seem to be a pressing danger though, at the very least.  What do you lot think?"

---

We don't have to spend long in conversation, but Mallory would like to at least check in with everyone and hear what Farwalker might have to say from her own bit of interrogation.  Also, assume Mallory has explained to Khulekani what her clockwork does for the sake of brevity.

"This place should do nicely for an evening's rest," Rhydd muttered as stepped inside the old inn once Mallory had finessed the lock on the front door. "Nicely done with that lock, by the way. That's a handy skill to have."

The archer pushed the hood of his cold-weather clothing back. Although his breath still steamed in the abandoned room, it was considerably warmer than it was outside. For one thing, the walls of the building blocked the wind.

Rhydd spread his bedroll on the floor. "I'll sleep down here. I don't think that anyone will try to bother us. But if they do, I'm a light sleeper, and I expect that Zula or Wifni taking notice will have me awake in plenty of time to do something about it."

The outdoorsman shrugged when Mallory spoke of what she had heard, and what she suspected insofar as the goings-on in the town were concerned. "I agree that whatever problems this place might be having, they do not seem to be of such immediate concern that we should turn away from our journey to Caer Konig."

"My vote would be to continue on to Caer Konig on the morrow."

"Oh, by the way," he added after a short pause, "did you find any knick-knacks of interest in that little shop? I will admit that the level of interest that those sorts of shopping endeavors hold for me is soon expended."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:24, Fri 16 Sept 2022.

"Nicely done with that lock, by the way. That's a handy skill to have."

Mallory took the compliment with a smile and indulgent curtsy.  "When one works in shipping, one learns to be handy with both lock picks and crowbars.  It's quite bothersome how many imports come bolted shut and having lost their keys in transit."  A fair notion, though the fact that Mallory had her picks stowed away inside her left boot perhaps could've been a mite on the suspicious side.  Though she did also indeed have a crowbar strapped to her satchel too.  A noble unaccustomed to the traveling life, but at least one suitably economic about it.

"My vote would be to continue on to Caer Konig on the morrow."

Again, Mallory was in agreement with Rhydd.  "Indeed.  Though it does make for a tantalizing bit of mystery, the lost mercenaries' lives take priority.  Best we spend as little time as necessary getting supplies in Caer Konig and set into the wilds with all due haste."

On the matter of their purchases, the young noble smiled and shuffled over her pack to sort out a few different items.  The utilitarian tools - rope, block and tackle, climber's gear and tinder kit - were all apparent in their use.  With the group heading out to delve into a Netherese ruin, having plenty of gear suited to scaling broken paths and icy ledges was vital.  Less obvious were the novelties she'd acquired.  Scarves and books and doll clothes, a chess board, a fountain pen made of carved emerald that looked better suited to a royal desk?

"Had a week to spend burying myself in that shop, I'd have done so gladly.  Such wonders at a glance!  I found some lovely gifts to bring back for Dannika and Moyrah when we return.  And our little Chwinga friend as well." she grinned as she held up the tiny doll clothes between her gloved fingers proudly.  Given the nature spirit's fondness for man-made items and their own roughly hewn coats, she expected they'd be delighted.  "I bought a Dragon Chess set as well, in case any of you fancy a game?  I can't play against Astre: he cheats."

"Mmrrrm." the Tressym remarked from where he laid in Mallory's lap in a lazy sprawl.

"Don't you give me that.  My being able to predict the future is no help in chess." she retorted, then primly ignored her cohort's eye roll as she gathered up the other trinkets to show around.  "As for the rest, I spotted some magical bits and bobs.  This pen writes without ink in an illusory script; handy for covert messages.  The die will roll whatever number one wills them to.  And the needle is unbendable - not necessarily impervious to all harm, mind you, but it's quite an interesting thing to have for a mere copper piece." While she seemed pleased as punch with her finds, it would be quite easy for a more cynical eye to label such items as a total waste of gold.  Mallory gave Khulekani a smile and gestured to the clockwork she'd bought for herself.  "That piece of yours is a most curious device too, Squire.  The still-beating heart of a Modron, perhaps?  It's rare to find items directly linked to other Planes so readily, let alone one bound to Mechanus of all places."

Rhydd crossed his eyes, tilted his head back, and made a snoring noise as Mallory launched into an enthusiastic review of the treasures that she had found in the dusty little knick-knacks shop.

"Sorry," he said after a moment, smiling more with his eyes than his mouth.

"Just . . . not my cup of tea. Do I say that right?"

"I daresay you'd curl in on yourself and die of boredom if you had to sit through a proper afternoon tea." Though Mallory gave Rhydd as chiding a look as she often dealt Astre, it was clear from her smirk there was no offense taken over his playful ribbing.

"How are you feeling, by the way?  You as well, Miss Farwalker?  Have you tended to that curse-breaking affair you mentioned before yet?" Astre was slightly dislodged from his spot as Mallory hop-scooted her chair a few jostles closer to Rhydd so she could lean over and scrutinize his tilted-back face for any signs of illness.  Lycanthropy was one thing, but catching an infection from a wound was just as likely in rough territory.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:31, Fri 16 Sept 2022.

Rhydd tilted his head back to a more normal position and gave as start as he found himself peering into the face of a much-closer Mallory (than she had been when he first began his posturing) -- who, in turn, was staring intently at him.

"Ummm . . . fine -- normal, I guess," he managed to blurt out in response to her question.

"What would I be feeling if the curse was taking hold? Do you have any idea?"

"I was hoping you'd tell me, honestly.  That we have a chance to observe Lycanthropy's potential incubation period from the get-go is a rare opportunity, albeit one I'd rather not have." Mallory didn't seem bothered by her own closeness as she leaned nearer still to examine Rhydd's complexion.  "Lycanthropy is a rather insidious condition; in many cases its victims don't even know they're afflicted at all and simply go about their normal lives until the change hits them.  Obviously a terrible danger to those around them if, for example, one transforms into a bloodthirsty, practically invulnerable monstrosity in the midst of their family and neighbors."

A rather blunt appraisal of the situation, all things considered, but Mallory felt Rhydd was the sort who'd appreciate frankness over sugar-coating any day.  "There's talk of feeling an urge for battle, or solitude, or hungering for raw meat.  Much of it wholly anecdotal though, so it can't really be trusted.  Feelings of fever or other illnesses are often the result of the injury itself rather than the curse taking hold."

Rhydd now seemed comfortable with Mallory's physical proximity. Truth be told, he might even have leaned towards her, a little.

"Never knew much about it," he admitted when the wizardess explained what she knew -- or had heard -- about the curse. "Other than hearing that you needed silvered or magicked weapons to do harm to those creatures . . . judging by how things went in the forest yesterday, I s'pose that we know that much is true, any way."

The archer pursed his lips thoughtfully as the noblewoman told of possible symptoms. "Solitude . . . certes, I like that a lot. More than most people, I would say. But that's nothing new, at least not for me."

"Raw meat . . . I've eaten it when I was in dire straits, but I can't say that I favor it."

"I don't shy away from battle, but I don't normally go seeking it out . . . well, depending on the circumstances, I s'pose. But I'm not some crazed berserker who goes all wild-eyed and licks his lips at the thought of shedding blood."

"Fever or illness . . . no -- especially not today, after a reasonably good night's rest. I was feeling my wounds a trifle yesterday after the dust-up in the woods, but I feel fine now."

Rhydd glanced over at Farwalker. "Did I hear aright that you have knowledge of a way to break this curse? Is it something that you and I should undertake . . . just in case?"

The outdoorsman shrugged. "I would hate to have been lulled into a false sense of security about this curse, and then to have it o'ercome me when I least expect it."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:18, Sat 17 Sept 2022.

"I am a cursebreaker, yes." Farwalker replied simply. She was putting some finishing touches on her latest carving, eying it thoughtfully in the dim lighting. Not that she could really tell the lighting was dim. She hadn't seen the world like most people for a long time. "I will take care of it in the morning after my prayers. Here." She stood from her spot and in a couple of quick strides, she held out a tiny carving of Mallory. It was actually extremely well done. Almost a miniature sculpture rather than a standard carving. Though, most sculptures didn't have small gemstones for eyes. Small pieces of blue jasper that caught the light in such a way that it almost looked like it was watching the world around it. It of course had a small, unobtrusive hole through it so that it could be threaded onto something and worn as a charm, or even a pendant of sorts. Much like many of the other pieces woven through Farwalker's hair and clothing.

"In other news, the adventurers we seek did come through this town some days ago. They were also refused rooms. Something strange seems to be going on in this town, but I am unsure on whether I feel I should care. As long as they aren't sacrificing people, being irritable isn't too much of an issue."


The carving got a 23 on it, so it's quite nice.

Sat 27 Aug: Farwalker rolled 23 using 1d20+6.  Carving.

"I thought you intended to handle it this morning already?" Mallory scowled a bit on the notion of delays in care.  But, in the end, Farwalker was apparently the only one among them who could handle such magics so it was her schedule or nothing.  "Well, so long as it's done sooner than later, I suppose there's little difference.  Lycanthropy generally takes a full month to gestate; I'm simply worried this form might not behave the same given its source of origin."

The offer of a fine sculpture, however, took the young noble by surprise and shifted her frown into a look of bemusement.  "Oh!  Goodness, Miss Farwalker, this is lovely work.  Thank you."  To receive a carving of oneself was a novelty to begin with, though she seemed to find an additional layer in the particular choice of gemstone that featured in the eyes.  She afforded the Goliath a wan smile.  "Blue Jasper is a stone of rather particular meaning... should I take it as a hint?"

Regardless, Mallory abruptly lifted the delicate statuette out at arm's length - just in time to cause Astre's sudden pounce and flail up from her lap to miss.  She palmed his face to keep him away as he continued to reach and swing in a playful effort to snatch up the carving just as he had the first Farwalker had set out days ago.  Whatever the reason, he seemed quite taken with such trinkets.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:23, Sun 18 Sept 2022.

That night it snowed heavily.

While Mallory and Rhydd could speculate on the symptoms of early lycanthropy, Farwalker could experience them firsthand. It first manifested in the mind — extraordinarily vivid dreams took her, along with a cold sweat. Dreams of flocking rabbits, burrows, and large, slit eyes reminiscent of a feline's that peered at her from every direction. Ominous and discomforting, but nothing truly sinister.

When she awoke it was without any physical indication of the curse. As it stood, she remained the same.

Upon departure, the town bid its farewells in the same manner it had greeted its guests, which was to say not at all. Continuing off the Eastway, cresting the hill, the path grew narrower and showed clear signs of being significantly less traveled. Had it not been for the occasional cairn, one would have difficulties staying on the road, especially as it ascended and descended. The landscape here was similar to the barren, rolling hills that led to Targos, albeit more pronounced and with a mighty mountain looming tall — Kelvin's Cairn. And here, although it was only just slightly further north, it grew noticeably colder.

After just a couple of hours of travel and by Rhydd's impeccable navigation, Caer-Konig fell into view.

---

Continued in the Caer Konig thread. I'll ping Idrianthe's PMs to check if she's still hanging around.

The below passage is moved from thread 3-B. It is the same writing exactly.

---

Only an hour into their trek the twilight faded behind the Spine of the World, blanketing Icewind Dale in darkness. It was overcast, meaning torches and lanterns had to shine the way where the light of Selûne could not reach, and the comforting lights emanating from the windows of Caer-Konig were left behind.

First, the lake had to be circumvented, and there were no roads to follow, in addition very few cairns. Only a mile out, the cairns completely ceased to exist, leaving only the dark silhouette of Kelvin's Cairn and the smallest, most indiscernible hint of the frozen Lac Dinneshere for Farwalker and Idrianthe to make out in the distance. Once upon a time, unless it was the height of winter and the rivers running from the glacier to the Ten-Towns were frozen over, passing into the wilderness east of the lake by foot was impossible. Now, however, it was trivial, and one could barely make out where the ice cut through the terrain.

Ahead laid a long stretch of undisturbed tundra — jagged hills topped with hard, crusty snow as far as the eye could see. Everyone but the downy Wifni, the acclimated Farwalker, and the spiritual Astre and Zula could feel the encroaching chill sting their face and seep into their skin as the temperature plummeted and the rolling winds steadily picked up at the sled's back. And colder it would get. Had one been negligent in assuming one's outerwear back at the inn, it would be wise to turn around.

---

Rhydd's Survival Check [14]: Between the clouded stars and monotonous terrain, navigating became troublesome; it was as if a blizzard had swept in with how limited vision had gotten. Only thanks to Idrianthe and Farwalker was he able to maintain any landmarks at all. Even turning around and trying to see if the footprints they left behind were going in a straight line, it was a trivial matter to err by just a degree or two. In the end, that could add up.

He thought he was doing as good a job as he could thus far, but there was no way to be absolutely confident.

Thankfully, using Idrianthe's compass, he knew exactly where they were headed.

Question; do any of you possess Navigator's Tools or Cartographer's Tools?

---

After more half a day of nothing but snow-laden rocky hills, Reindeer tracks were encountered. Very close by, a singular bull stood atop jutting stone, scouting the area. It too, had trouble in this darkness, for it hadn't seemed to notice Wifni nor anyone in the sled until it was noticed itself. It then sprang down, joining what had to be at most thirty of its herd. A far cry from the several hundred they used to number prior to Auril's influence.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:18, Fri 14 Oct 2022.

Rhydd found himself quite pleased with his new boots and the compass that Idri had crafted for him. While the boots did not make him feel like he was surrounded by a bubble of warmth, they did keep him much more comfortable than he otherwise would be; he knew that for a fact, having been involved in treks in bone-chillingly cold conditions before.

And the compass gave him a significant degree of confidence that he was keeping the group moving in the proper direction. Given the fact that the overcast masked the moon and most of the stars, navigation without it would have been quite iffy, even with Idri's and Farwalker's lending assistance with their Darkvision.

"How is everyone doing?" he called out, assuming that Mallory would be providing magicked warmth as needed, but at the same time well aware that his new boots gave him a degree of comfort that the others would be lacking.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:02, Sat 15 Oct 2022.

It had become a habit of service on Mallory's part to offer warmed boots or cloaks as suited one's tastes.  Her simple Prestidigitative magics served to keep a garment toasty warm wholly in spite of the bitter cold atmosphere; small comfort that it was in the face of all-consuming chills otherwise.  Khulekani and Idri were offered their choice and she kept the third dosage of warmth for herself, confident that Farwalker had no need and that her enchantments were more than taking care of Rhydd presently.

Beyond that, however?  The young noble hadn't been seen the entire trek; she'd bundled herself under heaps of blankets and furs in the back of the sled and refused to come out.  Her Lantern kept under with her allowed her to work on her further crafting in the small cocoon of warmth she could manage to maintain.  She'd only peek out just a bit every hour or so to refresh the warming trick on her companions and then promptly re-bury herself until the next time.

"It's nearly time to refresh the sled.  Shall I conjure another so we can keep going or are we setting down camp?" she called in return, only just visible as a pair of eyes that peeked from a narrow gap under the piled blankets.  It was painful for her to acknowledge that, regardless of whether they continued or stayed where they were, she'd have to come out to cast her various spells no matter what.

---

Just in case it's relevant to Idri at all: the Party travels by way of a sled magically conjured out of thin air by Mallory.  Depending on how well-learned Idri is on spellcraft, she might recognize that it's a custom-made spell Mallory herself invented rather than one established in history or general practice.

Khulekani was a child of Athkatla, which was much warmer than the constant freeze of Icewind Dale. And despite her warm winter clothing and heavy cloak, it was no surprise that after many miles of the harsh wind stinging her in the face that the squire accepted Mallory's offer to magically warm her clothing. It was like having a bed warmer with none of the dangers of fire, or being overcome by noxious fumes.

It was delightful.

Or at least, less miserable.

She could only imagine what Zula must be feeling. Although she was no normal horse, Khulekani did not know for sure if heat and cold bothered her in the same way. But their friendship made her ere on the side of caution and assume it did. And so for much of the journey she prayed for her friend's warmth and health.

"That would be up to our man of the woods, now would it not?" Khulekani asked in reply to Mallory's question, as she trusted Rhydd's wilderness knowledge.

She was a champion for the downtrodden and innocent, she was no ranger of the north, after all. Best let those of expertise make these kinds of decisions.

Idrianthe had magicked up mapping tools for Rhydd before they left, and apparently found time to change into winter travel clothes and snow shoes while she did.

The trek had been tiring, even on the sled, and she happily accepted magical warmth on her heavy wool socks -- just in case her boots might risk melting the snow. Toasty cozy toesies!

How marvelously enchanted these travelers were, with their conjured sled and ensorcelled belongings. In particular, Idri had been eyeballing Mallory's staff and Khulekani's sword when her darksight wasn't needed. Fascinating items, clearly dear to their bearers. What she could accomplish with a bit of time and the right materials...

"Doing well, for my part!" She contributed, when Rhydd's and Mallory's questions broke the quiet. "This is a much finer form of travel than mere feet, my compliments to the master and the magician who make it possible."

"I think that halting for a camping period would be wise," Rhydd replied after considering Mallory's and Khulekani's comments.

"We have made good progress in spite of the conditions, and I think 'twould be best to arrive at our goal reasonably rested and with magicks refreshed."

"Lady Mallory, are you inclined to magick up the usual accommodations? Even if that is the case, I shall do my best to pick out a good spot for our camp. In spite of such magicks, I  am a little old-fashioned in preferring somewhere that will provide some shelter from the wind, whilst still affording good lines of sight."

"Mistress Idrianthe, can you assist me in that endeavor?

---

OOC:
15:49, Today: Rhydd Maldhon rolled 25 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 20.  Picking a Likely Camping Spot.

Notes: I have assumed that either Idri or Farwalker will assist Rhydd, and hence have not rolled with Disadvantage.

As she normally did, Farwalker was working carefully on small pieces of bone, slowly piecing something together. Occasionally, she’d file thin sheets off of a nugget of gold that she had formed into a square. Whatever she was working on, she was taking even more care than she normally did.

Whenever she took a break, it involves quite a bit of finger and back stretching. Which is exactly what she proceeded to do when the group stopped for the last time that day. “I can set up the camp this time.” She had pulled her shield from her pack and was fiddling with one of the straps. “Pacing the hut out will be good for my back.”

Mallory was more than happy to trust Rhydd's judgment when it came to finding a spot to tuck in for the night.  Her magics could do plenty to make anywhere they stopped livable for a brief time, but the better suited their campsite was to begin with, the better.  Farwalker's suggestion to handle the camp herself, however, raised the young noble's brow incredulously.

Not that anyone could see that since she only just barely peered out from amid her bundling, but still.

"Oh come now, Miss Farwalker, you're not that tall." she chided.  Regardless, she was curious as to what the Goliath meant to do when it came to housing for the night.  "Still... what did you have in mind?"

"Happily, Mr. Maldhon!" Idrianthe had replied, and assist him she did, providing her natural eyesight advantages to the problem of finding good ground for them to take a rest on.

Once that had occurred to Rhydd's satisfaction, Idrianthe popped off the sled and carefully swung her pack off from around her shoulders to stretch out her collarbone. There was an unsubtle pop! when she did so. "Oh goodness, that must be twice as exhausting for the animals," she mumbled, then picked her pack up by the top to clear the sled so everyone else could engage in whatever their camping routine was.

"It sounds, Lady Bonheur, as though Madam Farwalker intended to magically summon a shelter, and that the ritual to do so involves demarcating its structure with a walked perimeter. Is this... Not usually how you camp? I would have assumed, all these fine crafts being passed around and worn by your company, that it would be a simple conjure." As she rambled, Idri used her orphaned upper arm to broadly indicate Rhydd's boots and... Well... Everyone else in the party. They did not appear short of magical possessions to her trained eye!

"Indeed." She ran a thumb over a scratch along the paint of her shield, the metal gleaming and perfect underneath. She never fixed the paint, only had it repainted when it was finally too scratched up to go on as an image. Even with a few scratches, the shield still obviously had the night sky painted on it, with several constellations present. "It is much the same as your own spell. Just slightly different, of course." She smiled at that slight joke. "Besides. Being hunched over working on delicate bone has taken it's toll. My body is not quite as robust as it used to be."

"We've never camped before." Mallory corrected the assumption gently.  She had the distinct feeling that Idri thought they were a team of wandering adventurers... a matter which Mallory herself took some umbrage with.  "I certainly do have magics that can shape the ground and shield us from the elements, but it's not as if I make a habit of sleeping outdoors.  Ever.  And whatever Miss Farwalker is suggesting she use is news to me."

A hard breeze blew through across the snow as Mallory stepped down from the sled herself.  Even with her many blankets and draped furs still bundled about her body, it was enough to make the poor woman flinch and hunker down on herself.  "Whatever it is you propose, do get on with it, please!"

"I would comment that it must be so nice to be able to influence the Weave through will alone, but I know from experience that Arcane study is an entire life's pursuit, and that such knowledge is hard won and earned. Still, being able to summon shelter instead of having to go through the physical motions of setting up camp must be nice," Khulekani said with a small, cheeky grin.

As the others discussed what to do about their camping arrangements, the young squire made sure to look Zula over for any signs of injury from travel, or pained hooves. It may be cold, but she wanted to make sure her friend was okay before she saw to her own needs.

"It's not as effortless as we mages make it appear, but it does certainly allow one to travel light." Mallory shrugged.  "There are better accommodations I'd rather conjure.  But that's a whole other kettle.  I've been researching the works of Wizards like Galder, but that sort of craft is quite involved and difficult to find information on.  Reverse-engineering a spell without being able to lay eyes on its written formula is a daunting matter.

There's one I know of, penned by Mordenkainen: a grand archwizard allegedly hailed from another world.  I've been trying to puzzle out its workings since I was just a child and am hardly any closer now than ever." she clutched her Lantern Rod that much closer to herself even though its bright flame offered no warmth.  Even as her teeth began to chatter, she turned to talking in order to keep moving and distracted from the cold.  "Its complexity is immense and multi-layered, to say nothing of the raw power needed to cast it.  A terrible shame, really: if I could perform that spell, it'd not just spare us rough camping, but it could alleviate the suffering of those in Ten-Towns immensely."

“I often wonder at the use of magic.” Farwalker added as she slowly paced a large circle through the snow. Given her height, it didn’t really bother her too much. “Power comes from somewhere. What little I know is that no one quite knows where that is. It’s called the Weave. Does that make it a fabric of sorts? Do all the little twists and turns we put into it slowly pull away at what we have?” She let out a soft hum as she pondered aloud, slowly tapping a rhythm against her shield with large knuckles.

"Are you being hypothetical or do you actually want to know?" For once, Mallory managed to restrain herself from simply bounding into a lecture.  Had it been anyone other than Farwalker, she would've assumed the latter immediately, but the Goliath was rather inscrutable at times.

“Mm. It’s all hypothetical.” She replied with as much good cheer as a person could have while walking in circles. “My favourite theory I heard was that the astral was in fact a dead realm that we are leaching from to power ourselves. I thought his discussion on the power of collective faith was particularly interesting. Belief is a power itself, and those with the proper zeal can perform miracles that shouldn’t be possible even for those granted the tiniest sliver of divinity.” She idly kicked a rock out of her path, watching it sail a good ways before disappearing once more into the snow. “But my knowledge on the workings of power is more theological in its way. Which is how the gods influence the weave. Which is quite a bit. The more powerful being able to alter how reality works around them without even a thought. But, pulling fact from fiction is the work of lifetimes. Especially when reality decides it needs to go through phases like a surly teenager. Completely turns certain works irrelevant.”

"But, pulling fact from fiction is the work of lifetimes. Especially when reality decides it needs to go through phases like a surly teenager. Completely turns certain works irrelevant.”

To that, Mallory could only sigh heavily - which manifested itself as a deep plume of steam that seeped out from her many covers - and nod ruefully.  "You're certainly not wrong there.  I have professors back home who still argue to the point of fisticuffs over the proper identification of Planar layering since the last time the cosmos rearranged themselves and rendered an entire school of study obsolete.  And then there was the Spellplague a century ago that turned everything on its head.  And on top of all that, there's always been contrarian factions deliberately spreading misinformation about The Weave to obscure its nature."

A lot had happened in the last few centuries, really.  Grand, reality-altering events that went without understanding by so many, especially given a broad lack of arcane education throughout the realm, or never even learned of in the first place from poor conveyance of news.  So much ended up being known only as wild rumors and hearsay.  The people of Ten-Towns seemed quite certain it was Auril responsible for their woes, to the point that the likes of Farwalker sought to end it directly, but Mallory herself hadn't heard a whisper of such troubles in the south.  Would the truth end up being just rumors and tales before long as well?

"The gods in general don't control or directly influence The Weave itself though.  Rather, one does.  The Weave is an extension of Mystra, the goddess of Magic.  It's a medium... a conduit, through which all beings - gods included - are safeguarded from the overwhelming power of Raw Magic and can influence the world around them." the young noble explained in a measured tone as she watched Farwalker march about in whatever ritual she had going was.  "In that way, we all share equal roots.  All beings are touched by magic in the same way and may potentially manipulate it to the same degree, at the heart of all things.  The only reason the gods wield the power you speak of is because they enjoy a mostly unfettered access to The Weave that has been withheld from we mortals.  Mystra intentionally holds us at bay and has cut us off from that potential.  For our own good, mind you; she's demonstrably right to do it."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:55, Wed 19 Oct 2022.

Night fell, bearing the splendid aurora of the Frostmaiden's making behind the cloudy veil, and not a soul was seen throughout the watch.