Kursak seemed completely unbothered by the cold. He kept his head down against the falling rain, and showed only mild annoyance at the being called to a halt. His thick brows furrowed at the sight of one guard keeping several people from reaching shelter from the storm. Those brows rose when his eyes fell on the gnome, recognition written across his face, then turning quickly to concern as he took note of the blood. "Fri? What are y- Are you hurt!?" Kursak looked toward the guard with annoyance, and a hint of something more. Frilia had never been one to leave herself, or her tools, dirty. He moved over toward her, taking a knee as he got close to take a look, unconcerned with the mud and water he would pick up in doing so.

Others nearby were speaking of seeking shelter from the weather, and Kursak glanced around for any sign of ill will among them. Seeing none, Kursak stood once more, "Guardsman, it is plain none here has come to do harm. If it had been their goal, no offense to your station or training, I believe you would have been overpowered and defeated by now. Let us get these poor souls out of this weather so that I can see to the wounded."

[private to dm: unless I do, actually? Insight 22
11:03, Today: Kursak rolled 22 using 1d20+4.  Wis check.]
This message was last edited by the player at 23:32, Thu 24 Mar 2022.

Even after the three blood-stained and weary travelers, two human and one gnome, a moment later, the tabaxi came into the light, her eyes more behind than forward, a arrow in her bow ready. She turned almost bumping into frilla with a start. "Frilla....don't stop so suddenly. Last time I tripped over you!"

The tabaxi was quite a sight. For her kind she was smaller than most, standing about 5 foot 2. Her frame was one of speed and agility, being wirey of frame. Her fur, unusual for her clan, was white with black circular patterns, mush like the snow leopards to the north, now covered with blood - though most was not hers, some was. Her blue eyes had a focused look as she looked around.

She saw the guard and smiled. "Hi....would you mind letting us in before the goblin hoard who slaughtered all our friends decides to come this way. I'd like at least a warm meal before I kill those bastards."

She sighed, looking around. She knew Frilla, Felix and Minho from the caravan - the trip had made them friendly, but this ordeal cemented a bond of necessity.

...but she saw someone else she recognised.

"Shera? Is that you? Shave me down and call me a persian, whats it been....6years? What are you doing away from your families business?"

She sighs and looks at the man holding the spear and sighs. "Anyime your ready.....you know how much cats hate being wet?" Rain had a less than pleased look on her face
This message was last edited by the player at 22:57, Thu 24 Mar 2022.

Over the course of her trip Shera had listened to the stories, songs, and what have you of the others who traveled around her. It wasn't until a little while on the caravan that anyone had asked anything of her. When gestured toward to introduce herself she did, all be it cautiously. She had been weary from the travel she had been on thus far, but that only made her loosen her guard a little. Her experience outside of her families shop had not been the best of experiences. Though she knew not all people outside of the shop were bad she also knew that it was not safe to openly trust anyone who came around, at least not until they had proven themselves. So when asked to introduce herself she gave the bear minimum of necessary information. She told them that her name was Shera and that she was an alchemist, but she did not mention her last name for fear of the attention it would bring. Unwanted attention was never a good thing especially to one scared enough already. In place of her giving out more information of her own she instead listened to the information the others gave out and took head in knowing where they could be useful.

____________________________________________________________________________________________


When they made it to the final guard between them and shelter Shera refused to allow herself to feel relief just yet. Instead she watched the scene unfold keeping her head down, but ever watchful of their surroundings for each of the new figures that appeared out of the rain and just when she had thought she'd seen everyone a familiar voice caught her ear. Hearing that voice came as relief for only a short moment though before word of her family's business started to panic her. Rain, Shera did remember her though it had been a long time, 6 years as she had pointed out, but to Shera keeping her secret was more important than that. In an effort to steer focus away from that Shera answered, "That's a long story for another time, but how's your family's business? Another long story like mine for why you're not with them?" Shera hoped that Rain would get the hint to stop asking about her family.

The small, wet and miserable Tabaxi bumped into her and berated Frilia for being small and in the way. She shot a warning glance to the cat but nothing would break her moment with her childhood friend.

Big 'sak! It is you!

Surprisingly, she gave a quick hug to the half-Goliath, spreading some of the blood on her clothes to the giant man.

Moradin's beard, it is good to see you! What have you been eating? You're even more enormous than before!

With the cleric fussing over the blood covering her, she gave a quick, dismissive laugh.

Don't worry about me, most of it is not mine. Here, I'll get rid of it.

Speaking a few words, the blood matting her clothing and hairs turned into powder that fell on the ground, and she brushed the rest away, leaving her still wet hairs to show their true purple color.

Is this better?

Turning to the shaking guard, she looked at him with a severe look.

Now that I don't look like a walking pile of blood, will you let us in? I'd like to spend time with my friend...

She looked at Rain and the two human brothers and smiled at them.

Friends, away from the rain with a good mug of mulled wine in my hands.

HuMu, for his part on the trip, did his best to stay in what could closest be called the crows nest. Even if ushered out or chased off he always managed to somehow get back there. Even when the storms hit he didn't want to move so he stayed under that floating disk that he normally puttered around on. He was supremely lazy but driven so he always seemed to be up to something even if he wasn't. It didn't help that he absent-mindedly repeated everything around him while he was reading.

When it came to the logging camp HuMu was motoring around on his floating disk, too lazy to walk. There was room enough for the others of his group. But he waited quietly and waved when he was introduced. He did take notes and was calm but energized at the idea at more components!

[Private to Kursak: Using Insight to read the room:  Okay.  Everyone is tired, cold, and/or possibly hungry.  The last four, including Frilia are hyped up on adrenalin, but don't read that the threat's immediate.  The guardsman is wound up pretty tight and clearly wants to be anywhere else right now...]

The guardsman regripped his spear, his finger flexing and curling around the shaft as Minho, the Frilia, then a bunch of the others alternately berated or harangued him to be let inside.

13:13, Today: Dungeon Master, for the NPC Guardsman, rolled 1 using 1d20 ((1)).

Apparently this was too much for the guardsman, who dropped his spear, turned around and fled into the camp calling "We're under attack!  We're under attack!" as he ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

Almost immediately the camp erupted into a hive of motion and activity, and several figures came forward in one and twos, until there were six standing with weapons bared just inside the gate.  A large bugbear shouldered past them, a large great-axe carried casually over one shoulder.

[Language unknown: "Ichili ingthiour wi day?  Redderhou Taerer?"] he said, then peering out into the torchlight with dark yellow eyes, he switched to common.  "Who are you?  What business do you have here?"

We are not here to start a fight! We simply seek shelter from the cold!

Having trained with a half-goliath, it was not a bugbear that would intimidate the little gnome. She was pretty sure that in her flight from the caravan, she had wounded one or two, so instead of cowering, she came forward and bowed, somehow keeping her eyes on the bugbear.

We have no intentions of harming you and your camp, good sir. My name is Frilia. My companions are Minho, Felix and Rain. Our caravan was attacked and destroyed after we left Asarius, by a horde of monsters. Your camp is the first settlement we encounter since we fled for our lives, after it became obvious that the caravan was lost. We have run all day.

From the others, I have known Brother Kursak, a wise priest of the Raven Queen, for years. He is a dear friend of mine.

She turned to the others she had never seen before.

I am sorry, I don't know your names.

Going back to the bugbear she continued.

All we want is a roof over our head to get out of this rain, to rest, eat and drink.

---

Today: Frilia Silverstring rolled 20 using 1d20 with rolls of 20.  persuasion
This message was last edited by the player at 11:56, Fri 25 Mar 2022.

Rain looked at the bugbear and her gaze hardened, turning towards him, it took all her willpower not to shoot the thing where he stood. She quickly realised he follew and tried to relax, forcing herself to put her arrow in the Quiver.

She look3d at him with crossed arms, stubborn as always. [Language unknown: "Ei Thobleich at utck mipeto hisro ckpro fi tioousore"] She then reverted to common. "...then he went that way." She indicated the direction he ran.

She didn't need to specify the reason why...Frilla spoke to the bugbear what happened.

"I must say, I never would have thought I would run into you here. Eating? Everything I can find, naturally. Too bad you can't say the same, eh Small Fri?" He hugged his old friend back, his arms alone were larger than she was, but her hugs were some of the best you could get. Whether he didn't notice, or simply wasn't concerned, he paid no heed to the blood that she got on his robes. Studying life and death had made him quite desensitized to the sight or smell of blood, and he was no stranger to being covered in it to varying degrees.

As everyone tried to convince the guard to stand down and move aside, Kursak was only partially surprised to see the man flee. If he was worth half his payment, the coward would have stood his ground, but Kursak had known almost straight away that the man was not. When he let out the call to attack, Kursak put his hands on his hips and closed his eyes as he raised his head toward the heavens and made a silent prayer for patience. With a heavy sigh, he lowered his head once more and muttered, "Some birds must shit on every statue."

"As the lady says, merely travelers looking for a bit of shelter on this cold, wet night. This fine soldier did what he thought was best, by raising the alarm, but I assure you are not here looking for trouble. If you have sick or wounded here, I would offer you my services for the time that we are here, as thanks for your hospitality."

The bug bear broke into a wide grin and spread one arm wide.  "Of course," he said, stepping back to one side and gesturing.  "My men will escort you to the mess tent.  We'll get you out of the rain and cold, get some food in your bellies.  The Wastes are treacherous, but we're not all monsters."  His eyes roved over the group, alighting briefly on the lute strapped to Klevan's back.  "Maybe you'll favour us with a song or three.  It's been some time since we've had any entertainment worth any note."

The men -- who it turned out were comprised of a mixture of goblinoid and humanoids -- relaxed and lowered weapons, turning to escort the group toward a very large oblong tent at the bottom of the path.  Several smaller tents, obviously meant for sleeping lay to one side of the path.  On the other, long carts -- too big to be really called carts, but without the coverings one usually saw on wagons -- loaded with dark wet wood sat in a line roughly facing the entrance.

Thunder cracked overhead loudly as the storm continued, and everyone's boots made squelching noises as they plodded through the mud towards the mess tent.

Inside, the tent was lined with lanterns, which provided a warm glow to the room.  The back wall of the tent was actually a wooden wall with two curtained doors on either side.  Several long tables were set down the length of the room, most of which was unoccupied.  A pair of hobgoblins, a surly looking drow, and a three humans sat down at one end of one table, finishing a meal.

The bugbear held open the tentflap and allowed everyone to proceed him into the hall.  "Sit down, rest your feet, and I'll see about rustling up some grub for you."  He paused to poke his head back out one of the hobgoblins which had followed from the gate.  [Language unknown: "Wilro Thaverles atme heure maha ss pa washa p dinan urort.  Ith wh a m ortithwas po tedameder, Utwi everesall peha in t."]  Then he closed the tent flap and headed towards one of the doorways in the back wall.

The group at the end of the table glanced over with mild interest, but then went back to their own meal.

OOC: Take a few minutes here to interact, (re)establish character relations, etc..  I'll jump back in when the time is right.

As they walked towards the tent Shera gently pulled Rain to the side and whispered so only she could hear her, "It is good to see you again, but please do not mention my family's name aloud here. I do not yet know who I can trust. I hope I can still trust you."

As the party rests and talks, Hannah approaches Klaven, inquiring about the ghost story he told on the ship. She remembers him through this, but only barely.

Frilia sighed with relief when the bugbear opened up the camp to the 9 refugees and brought them to the mess tent. Her mother had always taught her that diplomacy was always the first step to take when dealing with strangers, that truth and honesty had a way of opening doors. But she also taught her daughter to still keep an alert eye even when the door is opened.

Thanks Mom.

As they walked through the muddy camp, the light steps of the gnome barely left marks in the soggy soil and the moment she was out of the rain, Yukiko spread her multicolored wings and took flight to go perch herself on a support beam, shaking the water out of her feathers and fur.

Finally! I thought I would need to become a fish!

You know I could always to that.

No thank you, I much prefer this form.

As the winged car started to purr while she licked herself, Frilia smiled at the tressym with affection and started to cast her cantrip again to dry herself, much to her relief. She looked at her companions, starting with those she knew.

Anyone else wants me to clean them up from this water? I am not a full fledged wizard but I know a few tricks.

That work done, she perched herself on a bench and took out her rapier to clean it up with her spell, before quickly sheathing it again, before someone panicked.

Ahhhh it does feel good to be dry. Kursak, what are you doing here? I thought you still studying at... wherever your father sent you. How is the old man?

She listened to his answers then smiled.

Oh and I need to keep my figure you know, how else would I keep running circles around you when we fight?

---

OOC A lot of prestidigitation castings to clean everyone that asks for it!
This message was last edited by the player at 11:58, Fri 25 Mar 2022.

In reply to Hannah Demsersk (msg # 22):

Klaven had recognized the young woman after all. "Well isn't that interesting. I've told that story at least 200 times because it is always well received. I look forward to catching up with you. Right now duty calls." He then turned to Humu, "Would you mind helping? I'll give you a beat, follow it through the song, okay?"

He situated himself with his lute ready to play. He used the flat of his hand against the body to strike out a beat and nodded to Humu. He played and sang three staples of his shows.

Would That I by Housier

Living La Vida Loca by Ricky Marta

Mombo Number 5 by Lou Bega


08:01, Today: Secret Roll: Sir Klaven Bobcat Ellis rolled 23 using 1d20+7 with rolls of 16.  Performance with advantage.
08:01, Today: Secret Roll: Sir Klaven Bobcat Ellis rolled 17 using 1d20+7 with rolls of 10.  Performance
Advantage only if Humu agrees to help.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:36, Fri 25 Mar 2022.

Kursak accepted Fri's magics, but being accustomed to cold as he was, he urged her to take care of all the others before worrying about him. Kursak took a cursory glance at everyone as she cleaned them, checking for anyone who was actually injured and needing to be tended to. "That's exactly what I'm doing here, Frilia. I've been studying at Cairn's Cradle, at the southern edge of The Blightshore, just east of the mountains. On this side of the range there are vibrant Vermaloc trees, which I was tasked to study and gather samples of."

"And you? I thought you would choose to be somewhere more central and civilized, staying near Rexxentrum and its like."

"Ha! The taller I get, the smaller you stay. Before long you'll have to try not dancing circles around me or else it's likely to happen all on its own."

Felix didn't waste any time making his way into the tent once the bugbear gave him the go-ahead, ready to get himself next to a fire or whatever amenities the logging camp had to offer for getting warm.  He paused, when Frilia asked about drying him out, and after Minho gave Felix the "Frilia is cool, don't worry about it" nod, he shyly, but politely accepted.

As Frilia was taking care of him, the large goliath, who seemed to know her, began talking about studying at a place called Cairn's cradle.  Normally, Felix was quiet and let Minho do most of the leading, but when it came to knowledge, Felix had an exuberance air about him.

"I...I don't mean to interrupt.  My name is Felix. Kursak, was it? You mentioned something about your studies.  Are you a scholar of sorts?  I...I too dabble in such things and am always looking to expand my knowledge.  What...uh...did you study at this Cairn's Cradle?  Was it just the trees you spoke of, if you don't mind me asking?"

Now dry, Felix leaned forward, eagerly awaiting Kursak's response.

"A pleasure to meet you, Felix. Kursak, yes."

"Yes, I am a student of life and death energies. The Blightshore is full of lingering magics from the events of The Calamity, particularly life and death magic. The fallen often rise as undead, the number of things there that can kill you, and want to, are numerous, and some who die on its shore have a part of their soul that refuses to leave, rebinding itself to the body and essentially bringing them back to a partial life. Alive in most ways, but unable to find happiness or joy, or even contentment, but alive nonetheless."

"Trees are not normally a part of my studies, but there is much to be learned about both life and death from plants of all kinds. These particular trees are incredibly vibrant and full, yet they only grow in this region, in soil that is infused with this lingering death magic. As Frilia mentioned, I am a dedicated cleric of the Raven Queen, so I seek a greater understanding of these magics in order to better serve her, and those who Fate has not yet called to embark on death's journey."

"In comparison to other students, I like to say that I study not to learn, but to understand."

Kursak gave an opportunity for response before he turned it around, "I know it's a focused area of study, and perhaps not as interesting to another who doesn't share the focus. What is it that you study, Felix?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:14, Fri 25 Mar 2022.

Frilia was about to answer Kursak when the really quiet Felix spoke up. Her surprise was reverberated to her familiar, that stopped cleaning herself to look at the gnome, then the human boy.

Not wanting to interrupt this conversation, less Felix clamped up again, she had a look at the others that had arrived at the same time she did at the logger's camp. The human brunette woman knew Rain, and had whispered something to her earlier. It was hard to see how she was dressed, as she kept her cloak closed on her, and was looking suspiciously around her. The human male was obviously a bard and was playing for the handful of logger present in the mess tent. The bird like creature had its beak in a book and she had seen it ride on a Tenser's disk, a spell she had never managed to cast during her apprenticeship with Illiskar.

That's a Kenku. They can't speak, but imitate sounds.

Thanks for the information.

The blonde woman on the other hand was dressed in mail, with a prevalent medallion of a dragon on her chest, and had the look of a warrior to her. Frilia approached her, her steps light and with the assurance of someone that knew how to use her weapon.

Good evening, my name is Frilia. We were not presented. Is that Bahamuth? I follow Moradin myself.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 00:14, Sat 26 Mar 2022.

Felix, pondered how best to respond to Kursak, knowing that what he studied was to a point, a forbidden knowledge that most would not understand or appreciate.

"My focus of study revolves around lost and forgotten knowledge, but not necessarily of a particular field or subject.  I apologize, I know thats vague, but at times, I'm not sure exactly what I'm looking for in my pursuit of such things.  My curiosity is peaked when I find anything that is rare or has very specific....applications.

So what do you hope to achieve with your study of the trees?  What sort of applications are you looking for?"

Felix was almost sure this was another dead end, but decided to probe any way...just in case.  His recent studies at the college left with empty-handed and he had already decided that he may need to look elsewhere.  Perhaps, becoming one of the cloth might open new avenues of knowledge to him.  He had of course heard that clerics performed exorcisms, but was reluctant to go that route, in case they locked him up for being insane or a danger to others.

Hannah almost didn't notice the gnome as she approached her. She moved quietly, but not out of fear, out of caution.

Moradin you say? That's a bit unusual for a gnome. But yes this is the symbol of the platinum Dragon. My name is Hannah. What brings you to the Vermaloc Woods?
This message was last edited by the player at 02:57, Sat 26 Mar 2022.

HuMu played out the songs he was shown so far back. The beat didn't matter as even if he picked up the beat HuMu couldn't change the pace from what he had heard once before. There was still a lot going on as he was giving the mimicked performance while he was also reading his book.

He set his disk to follow the bard, it seemed the most logical thing to do so he could do his songs.

The gnome nodded at Hannah, a thin smile on her lips.

I am here because the caravan than employed me was massacred by an monstrous horde, not too far away. We fought bravely, but they were just too many. Now I have to figure out another way of repaying my debt. What does bring you here?

It is not so surprising for gnomes to worship a dwarven god. My family is involved in crafting, one of the aspects of Moradin. I was simply raised to worship the god of my father. 

She looked toward the entrance of the tent, hoping to see some food on it's way.

A fight you say? Are you injured? she says, concern on her face.

As for why I am here, I'm seeking out a... long lost friend shall we say.

It took about fifteen minutes or so, but the bugbear emerged from the opposite door in the back wall from which he'd entered, bearing a tray of five steaming bowls.  A fat hobgoblin in a stained apron followed with a second tray, and a weedly looking drow elf followed a few paces behind, his hands full of tankards of a hot, dark lizard that smelled strongly of wine.

The trio approached and set down the trays, passing bowls of hot stew around.  It was a goulash of some kind, with bit of dark stringy meat, potatoes, and some other tuber that couldn't be recognised but was very aromatic.

"So!" he said as the song wound down.  "I'm Khaturr, the foreman of this little camp.  You lot are far off the beaten path -- what brings you to this neck of our woods?"