Sarelor attempts to climb a tree to get a better view, but doesn't seem to make it high enough.

OOC:
19:44, Today: Sarelor rolled 1 using 1d20.  athletics, climb tree.
yep, that would be a critical failure

As the group begins to - literally - gather sticks and stones, Sarelor beings to climb a nearby tree.  He gets off to a good start and makes it about 10' off the ground before a branch cracks and breaks under his foot.   With a rather ungraceful flail, he descends to the ground and lands square on his back with a deep *thud*.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:19, Tue 23 Feb 2021.

Digger picks up the branch and gives it a trial swing or two, then looks down at Sarelor, "Not bad, but try for some already on the ground." He hands down to Sarelor his newly foraged club.

Sarelor sits up, says "ouch", catches his breath, and then tries to climb the tree, again.
"We ought to be able to spot the wagon, anyway," he explains.


OOC: if the dice kill me then I will die by the dice
22:41, Today: Sarelor rolled 3 using 1d20.  athletics, climb tree.

Digger backs up from the tree before another club comes down and passes the current one to Morek, "Here. He'll be coming down with another one soon, I expect."

Morek took the branch and worked a couple of tiny off-shoots to make it a nice, bare branch for clubbing. "Aye, that'll do nicely." He rested the club against his shoulder at the base of his neck and took a couple of steps back as he watched Sarelor take another shot at climbing the tree. "I can give you a quick blessing on your next trip back to the ground. It might help you with your climbing." Morek turned to Digger and whispered.

Where the others look for clubs, Kyra chooses to find something longer more akin to a staff. He watched the man climb the tree and unceremoniously fall down again. She looked away trying to hide a smile as she looked around.

But her looking around only yielded the gravity of the suituation. She looked in the mist with a sigh. "We need to move....find a light, a town, even a road or path. We won't find anything staying here."

Sarelor tries to find a way up into the tree again, but with the branch he just knocked down gone, he's unable to get any higher than that point.

He doesn't have a great vantage point, but he sees no breaks in the mist around or above the group.

In reply to Kyra (msg # 32):

Digger looks at Kyra and shrugs, "Well, if we look we might find breakfast. And searching for that may well find paths or roads. Or did you want to pick a direction at random and just start walking and hoping, without any food or water?"

Sarelor descends from his climb, and says, "don't be alarmed, but I'm pretty sure we're dead. This is nothing like the afterlife I was promised. Anyone here have an afterlife involving an endless mist-filled forest with no discernible change in any direction?"

Morek looked over at Sarelor and hit him in the arm with the branch-club, just hard enough to sting a bit. "Did you feel that? I don't think dead people feel pain."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:46, Tue 23 Feb 2021.

Digger shakes his head, "People, we're alive, and we haven't eaten or drank anything in about 12 hours. We can't even tell which way is north. Travel isn't the priority right now: Basic survival. Food and water, maybe a fire. If we deal with the basic and immediate issues, we may well learn a bit about the area.  A search for a stream may well find a path. Mind you, it will likely be a game path with game too large for thrown rocks, but game paths tend to lead to water. And hunters use them, so we may find other people, as well. Plus we'll get a much needed drink.

"All from looking for water. So...let's get looking for water, shall we?"

"Ouch. Ok, yes, your poke with the tree branch hurt. But, perhaps you could tell us which dead person clued you in on their lack of feeling."

Sarelor isn't convinced by Morek's logic, but doesn't need to be. This is clear as Sarelor continues, "whether we're dead or not, we need to find food and water. Let's build a little compass thing from rocks and sticks to indicate the four cardinal directions, and then spend a half hour traveling in each and then returning here. By the time we've done all four directions, we should have seen some difference in terrain that allows us to find water. For food, well, SOMETHING has to live in the forest."

With a consensus being formed, the group heads into the mist.  You aren't able to make a compass, but Digger is confident (using dead reckoning) that he can move the group in a straight direction through the forest, with the intention of following Sarelor's plan.

The woods are still, and moving through this mist gives an almost surreal feeling.  The group travels uneventfully for half an hour and takes the planned 90 degree right turn.  After about fifteen minutes in this direction, you see a break in the trees.  Approaching cautiously, you discover a lonely road.  The mist is marginally thinner in this area.

The group can see that there are not-too-old wagon tracks in the road; Digger and Morek can agree on the direction in which they go.

It's mid-morning.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:46, Tue 23 Feb 2021.

Morek replied to the question, "I said 'I don't think dead people feel pain.' I never said anything about having knowledge, it was just a theory. You've either confirmed my theory, or disproven yours. Mission accomplished, I'd say."

--

Upon setting out and discovering the road, Morek found some small relief. The whole situation was still incredibly weird, not to mention concerning, but the road at least gave them some direction. Some hope of answers. "Tracks go that way," he said pointing, "That's our best bet for finding someone to talk to."

Digger looks to where the tracks came from, "But the tracks come from that way. It could take a wagon all day to reach it's destination, but it left somewhere only a couple hours ago. Presumably after a meal. Certainly a source of water is that way."

Sarelor looks back and forth from Morek and Digger, then says "look, I know we've all seen some things, so we can be pretty sure that whether we're dead or alive, someone magicked us to this place. From the incidents with the campfire and the mist, I would suspect that someone to be malevolent, mostly because they could communicate with us and didn't ask our opinion. Assuming they brought us to themselves, I would say we should seek the source of the wagon. It's likely to be SOME sort of settlement, and what sort it is could tell us a LOT about how to handle this."

"So, if we're discussing it I have two suggestions. We should either go towards the wagon's source, or in the direction away from anyone that tries to leave without getting a consensus, because that would be rude."

"Fair enough. Heading the direction they came from makes sense."

The half elf shook her head at the logic of the men. "Good reasoning....but tell me this. What if their true destination lies mere hours ahead of them and the way they came has nothing but road. I say we follow the caravan. At least we know something is ahead of us wether a town or the caravan...and given they often stop at night, we may catch up. They will have food, water and answers for us. If they ask payment,  we follow them as guards and they pay us in food and water. who knows....they may have a blade or two."

Digger shrugs, "They may or may not be close ahead But I'm hungry and thirsty now, and they would have had access to water this morning. So we KNOW there should be water the way they came. We don't know anything at all about the direction they are going. I count 3 for the sure thing and one for thirst and starvation and hoping luck will avoid both better than logic. Shall we proceed, or talk until we shrivel up and die from thirst?"

Kyra looked at Digger and his comments with a dark look. "Mark my words human....speak to me like that again and we will have words. Don't talk down to me like a fool....I was pointing out an alternative. Your snide comments aside, I have no problem going with the majority, but I will not be made to look like a fool"

With that, she pushed past the others and started walking towards where the caravan came from.

<OOC: ooohhh....you've upset the only female in tbe group, who was dark and brooding before. He'll hate no fury....


Lol>

Digger grins at Kyra's back, winks at Sarelor and Morek, and follows Kyra towards the wagon's last overnight, looking for rabbit or squirrel along the way with a small rock from his shirt/sack in hand.

OOC: Seems we reached a consensus!

The cleric, the miner, and the rogue look at each other and shrug before turning to follow the feisty warlock.  Kyra leads the way and the group proceeds warily down the road.  Black pools of water stand like dark mirrors in and around the muddy roadway. Giant trees loom on both sides of the road, their branches clawing at the mist.

As you continue to trudge down the lonely, dirt road, you come across a fork in your path.  One path continues on into the distance; the other is short and leads to a cul de sac with a few sorrowful buildings rising out of the mist.  Faintly, you hear the frightened cries of a child.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 01:08, Thu 25 Feb 2021.

Walking ahead of tbe others, Kyra wished she was both right and wrong...she hoped they wouldn't find anything to prove herself right, but also knew the wisdom in their decision.

....still the human didn't have to be an ass about it.

Before she knew it, she was standing at the intersection, looking both ways when she heard the crying child. Without hesitation or approval of the others, she made for the sound and the buildings.

As Digger turned to face him, Morek smiled. The second he turned away, however, his expression turned to one of "I think you're lucky she didn't stab you". He then followed the others.

As they came upon the black pools, Morek knelt down beside one and ran a finger through it to see what the actual coloring of it was, be it literal black or merely reflection. If it was black, he would smell it first and then wipe it off in the dirt. If it seemed to be simple water, he'd wipe it off on his pants before catching up to the others.

The sound of a crying child drew Morek's attention as well. They were ill equipped for facing a dire threat, but if a child was in need of rescue or aid, then Morek too would provide it.