You gulp down air like a thirsty man gulps down water.  Conrad thumps you on the back.

"Good job Young Master."

The two of you just ran two laps around the Covenant.  Last year, you'd barely been able to complete half a lap.  Really, it feels like your legs are about to fall off after three quarters of a lap.  But over the past week, Conrad has insisted on two laps around.

You suspect that Master Coscrach is still upset.  A few months ago you'd started helping him in his laboratory.  He mostly had you cleaning things.  Pouring liquids into glass jars and telling you to learn what this liquid was as opposed to this other one.

It hasn't gone well.  You've mixed things up.  Spilled things.  Lost something called a focus, which you still aren't sure you did or know what it was.

Then last week you dropped one of those jars.  It shattered and Coscrach had beaten you a bit more than was usual.  He hadn't called you to the lab since then.  And your morning runs with Conrad have gotten more intense.

While you are hunched over, catching your breath, Conrad goes to the well and pulls up a bucket of fresh water.  He slogs it over to you and hands you the dipper from it.  The water tastes particularly cold and crisp.

When he catches your eye, Conrad grins and nods his head over to one side.  There, against the wall, is a small table.  It's piled with weapons.  Well.  Wooden versions of them.  Wooden swords.  Maces.  Spears.

"Master Cam says you are supposed to start weapons training today.  I mean real training.  Go over and try them out.  Get a feel for them.  The first thing we need to do is find the weapon that suits you best."

First, Tristan reaches for the sword.  He swings it playfully a few times.  Then he frowns as he considers the implications of this.  Has his master given up on his real training?  Because he'd gotten a little clumsy?  The more he thinks about it, the more sullen his frown becomes and the more violently he swings the wooden sword.

"I think I'll start with this.  Whom or what shall I kill first?"

In reply to Tristan (msg # 2):

Conrad bellows a laugh.  "Quite the bloodthirsty rascal, ain'tcha?  Well.  I suppose you can kill a man with a practice sword.  But let's just use it for the basics.

"Right.  First thing you need to do is get used to swingin' the damn thing."

What follows is pure hell.  Conrad has you practice swinging the sword.  For hours.  Your shoulders feel like they are about to come off.  Your gut hurts from being sucked in.  And your legs feel weak.

By the time Conrad calls it quits, you're ready to fall over.  The sword feels like it's as heavy as a hay wagon.

Conrad takes it from your trembling hands and guffaws, slapping you on the back.  "Don't fret Young Master.  Give it a few months and you'll be calling this a warm up.

"Master Coscrach can swing around mace with one hand. And waves his other hand around and makes big darts come up out of the ground.  I bet you'll be doing that too soon."

"Maybe he will."  The sardonic voice oozes out from the area behind you.  When you look, Teacher is there, leaning against the wall of his house, studying you with an amused look on his face.

Conrad bows and walks a bit away.  Coscrach nods his chin at you.

"Well?  Something to say to me?"

Tristan briefly considers using the practice sword in such a way as to minimize Uncle Master’s reproductive opportunities, but ultimately decides against.  That whole mace and darts-from-the-ground image is rather discouraging.  “Any chance I can get back to work in the lab soon?” he asks simply.

In truth, being separated from the lab was more painful to him than any beating.  He had literally been having nightmares about trying to get back in and being unable to.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:26, Tue 28 Nov 2023.

In reply to Tristan (msg # 4):

Coscrach wastes no time in shaking his head.  "No.  Not until you can show me you can rely on your body as well as your mind."

He studies you a moment, and then scratches the back of his head.  "You seem to think this is a punishment.  It's not.  I am a warrior.  It's part of me and my magic.  And that is something I will pass on to you.

"You recall what happened with the Frogs, eh?"

Conrad had given Uncle/Master a run down on what had occurred.  Coscrach managed to convince you to tell him the rest.

"Would you have handled that situation the same if you had known your way around a sword?  Or known some magic that could allow you to fight?

"Or better yet...both?"  He considers and then nods, as if he's agreeing with some voice you can't hear.  "Tell you what...I'm not an unreasonable fellow.  And some things are easier to see than to hear.

"There's a village on the main isle next to ours.  It's where we buy some of our supplies.  There's a boat going there at the end of the month.  Train with...you chose a sword huh?  I'd recommend picking up a knife and a spear for now. But that's just me...anyway.  Continue to train until the boat goes.  You'll go with it.

"This town usually has a problem with a certain fox.  It's been bugging them for years.  It's not a fae fox.  So no worries there.  But it's quite cunning.

"Bring me the pelt of that fox.  Or.  You can train with Conrad until summer ends.

"You'll come back to my lab after one of those two conditions is met.  Your choice."

Tristsan shrugs and picks up the spear.  He decides to take Uncle Master’s advice concerning weapons.

Since the only way out of this is through, he trains as hard as he can, and then agrees to go on the hunt for that fox.  His only concern is that he’ll fail and end up getting stuck training with weapons even longer.

He does also ask his master if it would not have been a mistake to try to deal with the frogs by force… after all, when dealing with a numerically superior foe, isn’t subterfuge a better strategy?
This message was last edited by the player at 04:52, Wed 29 Nov 2023.

In reply to Tristan (msg # 6):

Coscrach considers your question about the frogs and then shrugs.  "It's hard for me to say for sure.  I wasn't there after all.  But you bring up a good point about numeric superiority.  However.  I didn't say necessarily you would need to wade in, taking on both armies, sword swinging.

"Trust me.  When you are a fully trained wizard...one in your prime...an army isn't as high a hurdle as you may think it is."

---

Conrad runs you through several drills.  Somedays you work with the knife or the sword.  But usually it is with the spear.  By the time you are to board the boat, you seem at least to know what end you're supposed to hit things with...

For now, assume you have a score of 1 with Single Weapon (short sword), Brawl (specialty dagger), and either Great Weapon (spear) or Thrown Weapon (spear).  Let me know which one of those two you pick please.

Conrad goes with you, as well as another Grog you haven't seen before.  A large fellow with paler than ice skin named Rulf.

Conrad leans against the bowof the boat and says, "Me an' Rulf are just supposed to make sure you don't die Young Master.  The huntin' will all be on you.  You feel up to it?"

Tristan chooses thrown spear.

“No, but I’ll try.  I did a little hunting down on the farm, but nothing like this.  Can you at least give me some advice?”

In reply to Tristan (msg # 8):

Conrad and Rulf exchange looks, and then Conrad shrugs.  "Well.  You're tryin' to hunt a particular beast.  Not just goin' out to catch the first thing you can for dinner.

"So you might think about figuring out what this particular fox does.  Is he goin' after a particular chicken coop?  Is he stalkin' one side of the village as opposed to another?"

Rulf speaks in a deep, gravelly voice.  "'ou migh' also wanna try foll'win' 'is tracks like."

Conrad nods.  "I'll be honest.  It's harder to hunt down a particular animal.  'specially them foxes.  They're a clever bunch.  It's possible ya can set a trap for 'im.  But you gotta have an idea of where he's gonna strike for that to be effective."

He narrows his eyes, and after making sure no one can overhear you, leans closer.  "Can ya...you know...magick it up like?"

Tristan shakes his head.  "No.  I wish I could, though." He sighs.  "Okay, let's find a village with a fox problem."

In reply to Tristan (msg # 10):

Conrad and Rulf exchange a look, but say nothing.  Conrad slaps you lightly on the back, and the boat sails on.

You spend the night shivering on the deck.  It gets colder than you would think out on the ocean at night.

It takes until late afternoon before the crew calls out that land is sighted.  The boat swings wide and starts to crawl southward along a cliff ridden coast line.

They finally dock in a small village.

"We gotta hike up into them hills there, Young Master."  He points to the northeast.  "It'll be a few hours, but we'll see the village of Sionnach Dorcha."

He glances up at the sky.  "Might be best to try to find somewhere here to bed down in though.  It's later in the day then I'd like.  But if you wanna press on and get there, we can try to hoof it."

Press on or bed down for the night in this fishing village?

"Let's push on.  My instincts tell me that's the right choice.  What does the name of that village mean?  Do you know?"

In reply to Tristan (msg # 12):

The two grogs get a move on without any further discussion.  Rulf grabs your gear while Conrad slips a pack over his shoulder.  He purses his lips.

"Hmmm...in English..."Dark Fox" I guess."

The path up the hills is windy, more a game trail than an actual path.  The trees grow thicker and seem to bend overhead, as if about to pounce on you.

The path dips at one point, running down hill, and you come to a problem.  It must have rained quite heavily recently, because the area up ahead looks washed out. A few trees have toppled over, blocking the way.  The ground tilts downwards at a steep angle as well.  Trying to go around it to the south will be difficult as the earth looks quite sodden.

You could try to go north a bit, and go around the downed trees.  But the forest is thick in that direction, so you can't tell what lays that way.

You can of course just try to clamber over the trees.  It wouldn't be that difficult surely.

Three choices:  go south, which means you'd be scrambling around a sharply descending slope that looks quite muddy, go north where you can't see what might be there, or try to just climb over the trees

We'll try to head down the slope over the fallen trees, all the while keeping an eye out for tracks and other sings of fox infestation.  Tristan figures that if the worst thing that happens to him on this adventure is that he gets muddy, he's doing well.

In reply to Tristan (msg # 14):

The trees jut out over the lip of the decline.  You duck under them, getting your footing.

The slope is a little more sheer than you thought.  You'll have to almost climb across it sideways and then up to get under and around the trees.

Athletics/Str test please.  This is a stress test.

Thanks

04:20, Today: Tristan rolled -1 using 1d10-3.  Ath/str.

In reply to Tristan (msg # 16):

You slip under some branches and scramble down the side of the slope, realizing now that it's more like a cliff.  As you feel your right foot start to slip, you realize it's a cliff of mud.

Your foot starts to fall and the rest of you comes after.  Behind you, you think you can hear Conrad call your name.  But then you're sliding down the slope, the mud pulling you further and further down.

When you come to a stop, you hear a creaking above you.  Looking up, you can see your fall destablized the slope even further.  One of the trees is tipping over and starting to fall down the slope after you...

You may want to scramble out of the way.  An Athletics/Qik check please.  This is also a stress test.

Thanks

21:40, Today: Tristan rolled 0 using 1d10-2.  ath/qik.

In reply to Tristan (msg # 18):

Please kick me if I don't respond within two days.  For some reason, I keep missing responses.  Sorry about that.

The ground gives under one of the trees and it starts to slide down the slope towards you.

Conrad shouts your name in alarm, but you're too busy scrambling aside to pay him any mind.

You feel something sharp and hard poke you on the back and then you're airborne.  The ground comes at you and knocks all the air out of your lungs.  You black out.

When you come to, you're laying in front of a fire.  Rulf is sharpening an axe blade with a grindstone and you can smell fish cooking on spits stuck against the fire's perimeter.

No sign of Conrad.

Rulf notices you moving and leans forward.  "You got hurt.  Conrad's gone to find some help.  How do you feel?"

You took one level of wounds.  So you are at -1 for all activity.  For the moment at least.

Tristan slow starts to move, beginning with his fingers and toes, then graduating to rotating his arms and feet.  “Not great.  But my stomach is working just fine, and I can smell that fish.  I could eat my own weight in it.  Thank you for helping me,” he adds.

I don’t think I’d ever leave the house if I learned how to physically people over the internet.  What a fun and useful skill that would be.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:30, Sat 23 Dec 2023.

We can all dream, can't we?

Rulf grunts, but sets his axe down and fiddles with the fish.  He passes one over to you.  It's still a bit pink, but Rulf or Conrad rubbed it with walt and some wild garlic.  And the skin is quite crispy.

Rulf watches you inhale the first fish and calmly, quietly, hands you a second.

"Are you really one a' the magi?  They'd usually a' magicked them trees outta the way.  Conrad says you're learning.  You learned much?"

He hands you a third fish as he listens to your answer.  "You got yourself a man yet?  A grog?  Conrad's one a Master Coscrach's men.  You got your own men yet?"

“I’ve learned a lot, but I still don’t know what a grog is.” He wipes fish grease from his still cold lips.  “I still don’t know how to do anything about the trees, unfortunately.  I guess that’s in next summer’s books.” He looks up expectantly as though he hadn’t already eaten three fish.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:01, Fri 29 Dec 2023.

Rulf barks out a laugh.  It's the first facial expression you've seen from him.

He hands you another fish.  "Grog is what me an' Conrad are.  You grugrachs wave your hands and do your magicks.  Guys like me an' Conrad stand in front of you with shield and axe and keep the enemy off ya."

He leans a little closer, narrowing his eyes.  "Every magi keeps one man close.  His own guard if that makes sense.  I'm askin' if you have such a man yet?  I want better things outta life.  An' bein' a grugrach's sword hand seems a good way to go about it."

"I'll consider it, after our mission is complete and I've had a chance to evaluate your performance."  His voice carries a tone of royal finality, and after saying these words, he turns in.

In reply to Tristan (msg # 24):

You awake to a gentle shaking.

Conrad is kneeling over you.  "Young Master?  Young Master.  I brought someone who can take a look at that leg."

You sleepily look around.

It's night.  The stars are up, but the moon must have already set.  Rulf and Conrad are peering at you and then at a fourth figure around your little camp fire.

She's an older woman.  Not a grandmother.  But apparently on her way towards it.  Her skirt is faded and dirty.  Her blouse is so old, you can't tell what color it originally was.

The most remarkable thing about her is the head scarf.  It's bright red.  So red it even stands out in the gloom of the evening.  It's coiled around her head, holding her thick, iron gray hair in a tight knot.

She studies you with eyes that seem to be disapproving of something, and then says, "Young Lord.  Can I look over your leg?"

“Ummm… yes, I suppose so.  What is your name?  Mine is Tristan.”

Tristan decides to trust the judgment of his non-magical companions, but he does so with some reluctance.

In reply to Tristan (msg # 26):

She chuckles at your reluctance.  "Petronilla.  Fortunate to meet you."

Her touch is not gentle.  She squeezes your leg and turns it around, causing you quite a bit of pain in the manhandling.

But she sits back, nodding.  "It's not too bad.  Really a sprain.  I'll apply some herbs.  You hurt anywhere else?  What are you doing here anyway?"

”That’s our business,” Tristan says more harshly than intended.  Then he adds, more gently, ”Will you be wanting payment for your services?”

He ignores her question about pain, for now.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:31, Fri 19 Jan.

She chortles as she makes a paste out of some leaves.  "My.  Aren't you the growling wolf?  Fine, fine.  Keep your business to yourself.  And yes.  I will be wantin' payment-"

"Which I already gave ya," mutters Conrad.

"Which I've already received," she cackles.

She starts to wrap a bandage made of old clothes around your ankle.  "You'll need to stay off it the rest of the night.  Don't do too much on it tomorrow.  Now then."

She points at your campfire.  "Let me share your fire tonight.  It's too late to go tromping through the woods on my own."

Tristan looks to the others to see if they have any objections.  If not, he doesn’t have a problem with it.

He tries to get some sleep, and tries not to worry about how he can fulfill the quest without ‘doing too much’ on his injured ankle.

Conrad and Rulf stare back at you, as if wondering why you are looking at them.  They will go with what you say.  You are the boss here.  Kinda.

Petronilla chortles some more, but doesn't say anything else. She curls up by the fire.

Make me two Awareness/Per checks please

23:06, Today: Tristan rolled 3 using 1d10-2. – 3

23:05, Today: Tristan rolled 5 using 1d10-2.  Awareness/per. – 5

In reply to Tristan (msg # 32):

Someone is shaking you.  The vague dream you stumble out of...something about hedgehogs trying to teach you how to thread needles...falls away and you awake to Conrad kneeling over you.

He quickly puts a finger to his lips and nods out into the darkness.  Rulf is standing, his spear clutched in both hands.  Conrad silently stands, hoisting his axe.

Petronilla is sitting up on the other side of the fire, clutching her shawl around her boney shoulders.

You soon understand why they are all on alert.  From out in the woods, you hear a grunting.  Then a growling.  Then something that sounds like something wet being torn apart.

More growling.

Conrad motions at the fire and makes some gestures.  You understand fairly quick.  He wants you to stoke up the fire that was near to dying.  There's a pile of fire wood nearby.

As you start to feed logs in, you hear Petronilla mutter, "...take them instead...take them instead..."

As Tristan feeds the fire, he tries to figure out if the witchy woman is referring to them as a possible sacrifice, or to something else.  What does her tone of voice tell him?

She isn't paying much attention to any of you, though she does startle when Rulf steps on a branch not from from her back.

Petronilla is speaking as if she's mumbling a sort of nervous prayer.  Your Gran used to mutter prayers during thunder storms.  She probably wasn't even aware of what she was saying most of the time.  Just reciting prayers as a way to keep her nerves steady.  That's what Petronilla's tone reminds you of right now.

Tristan reaches for his own weapon, then rushes to Conrad's sign. "What is it?" he asks quietly.

He pretends not to pay attention to the woman's mutterings, but in fact, he does.  For now, he's willing to presume her innocence, but this could change fast.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:02, Sun 28 Jan.

In reply to Tristan (msg # 36):

Rulf steps a bit closer to you.  Conrad glances at you, then turns back to watch the darkness.

In a soft voice, he says, "Not sure...doesn't sound like a wolf.  It sounds a bit larger than a wolf any ways.  But it's movin' around pretty quick"

You can hear what he means after a moment.  The sounds come from your left then suddenly are behind you.  Then back to the left again.

But for some reason you don't think they are different animals...monsters...whatever.  You get the impression it's the same...whatever it is.  It's just...jumping from spot to spot?

This is weird.  Ever for the things you've gone through over the past year.

I'll let you ask any questions you want to ask.

"Is it an animal, or something... worse?"  As he asks the question, his eyes stare into the darkness, interrogating it.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:28, Wed 31 Jan.

Conrad shrugs.  "I would not know Young Master.  I was actually hoping you might know somethin'..."

Petronilla slowly stands up.  "I bet it's a wolf.  Maybe a pack."

She doesn't sound like she believes that.

”I think you’re lying,” Tristan says bluntly. ”I can hear the lie in your voice.  Tell us what you know, and tell us fast.”

In reply to Tristan (msg # 40):

Petronilla startles, obviously surprised by the steel in your voice.

More growls erupt from the shadows nearby.

She starts again, this time almost backing into the fire.

Finally she grabs her head and says, "Fine.  There's this...fox.  It...we have a history."

She is shivering, whether from cold or fear you aren't sure.  "It's complicated.  We just need to stay close to the fire.  And keep it burning until morning."  She peers into the darkness.  "Things will be alright," she says in a voice that isn't full of too much conviction.

Tristan’s eyes widen.  Fox?  This is what his master had sent him after?

He asks the woman, “Do you know a way to defeat this foe?”

The reckless old fool!
This message was last edited by the player at 21:42, Sun 04 Feb.

In reply to Tristan (msg # 42):

She gives you a rather plainly disgusted look.  "If I did, do you think I'd be worried right now?"

Conrad glares at her.  "Show some respect for Young Master."

Rulf gives a low short whistle to get all of your attention.  He nods off to the left.  You think you can see something move in the shadows of a tree.

Rulf cuts his eyes in that direction while looking at Conrad.

Conrad glances down at you.  Then Petornilla.  He licks his lips and whispers, "We can't leave the young master alone..."

You guess Rulf is suggesting the two of them head that way to see if they can flank this...fox.

Conrad seems more concerned with your safety.  But if the fox isn't aware, this could be an opportunity...

“There is no need to leave me alone.  I can go with you, and will be very quiet.” He smiles, imagining he was just an ordinary little boy asking his uncle’s permission to go with him on a hunting trip.

In reply to Tristan (msg # 44):

Conrad frowns at that, but Rulf chuckles, then nods his head towards the darkness.  As the three of you set out, Conrad brings up the rear.  Petronilla stands by the fire, watching the three of you, but not saying a word.

You move in the direction of what you saw.  The roaring and grunting continue bouncing all around, echoing in the forest darkness.

The firelight seems distant.  Conrad guides you up to a bush.  From behind suddenly comes a great roar, making you both jump.  But nothing comes rushing out of the bushes, sinking fangs or claws into you.  Soon you can hear the growling and roaring on the other side of the camp fire.

Rulf moves cautiously and silently over the ground in the lead, stopping behind a tree trunk.

He motions for the two of you to hold up.  Conrad touches your shoulder as if to stop you.

The animal sounds continue, coming from all sides at different times.  In fact, they get louder, filling the spaces in the forest darkness hasn't filled up yet with echoes.

Rulf holds up three fingers.  Then two.  Then one.

Conrad whispers to you, "...stay close..."

Rulf starts to rush forward from his hiding place.

All noise stops.

Something silvery and gray hurtles out from behind a tree and crashes into Rulf's leg.

He's suddenly gone.

"Hell's Balls!  Run Young Master!  Back to the fire!"

Conrad turns, pushing you back the way you came.

Is Rulf gone, or has the silvery gray thing disappeared?

If you want to figure out where Rulf is, I'll need an Awareness/Per check.

As far as where the Silver Thing is...

You swear you see glimpses of the silvery gray out of the corner of your eye.  Much like the animal sounds from before, it seems to come out of everywhere and then move to another spot right away.

It occurs to you that everything is quiet.  You can't hear the animal sounds.  But you can't hear Rulf.  Or Conrad.  Or even the breeze or sounds of the forest.  You can see the campfire now.  Petronilla is nowhere to be seen.

Are you running towards the campfire?

Not yet.


17:15, Today: Tristan rolled 6 using 1d10-2 ((8)).

This message was last edited by the player at 22:15, Thu 08 Feb.

In reply to Tristan (msg # 48):

Good roll.  You know. For Tristan's age group

No sign of Rulf.

You make out the silvery blur.  It's rushing this way from the direction of the campfire.  You think it might be a fox.  But it's moving awfully fast.

Conrad sees it as well.  He pivots to get between you and it.

"Run Young Master!"

Then he's gone.  Just...not there any longer.

The fox lands on it's legs about five feet to your right.  It's spinning around, apparently intent on charging at you.

For a split second Tristan considers trying to fight it, but wisdom soon prevails and he rushes back to the campfire.

You rush towards the campfire.  There's no sign of any of the others now.

As you just enter the circle of the flickering light, you feel something land against your back.  It's warm and soft but solid enough it causes you to stumble, pitching forward onto your hands and knees.

Then the weight is gone.

Something feels off.  You look up and notice how dark everything is.  The campfire seems to have gone out.  The only light seems to be the moonlight filtering through the trees.

You blink and notice you are kneeling at the foot of a large oak.  You don't recall seeing it before.  The oak seems to stand out.  The other trees seem to be too lost in shadow to be distinct.  This oak seems to lean forward from the darkness.  It's bark even seems an ashy gray as opposed to the blacks and dark browns of the rest of the forest.

No sign of the others.  Or that fox.

Tristan searches around for any equipment left at the campsite that he could still use.  This is assuming there even is a campsite.  Already, he suspects that he’s the one who has disappeared and that his companions are still back where they belong.  But his main goal is still to build a fire again.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:14, Wed 14 Feb.

No campsite.  You only seem to have what is on you.

You do find some prints.  Footprints.  There are all sorts, but they seem to be recent...even you can tell that much...but they are all going away from the tree in different directions.

Do any of them look as though they might belong to my comrades?  If so, I’ll follow them.

In reply to Tristan (msg # 54):

You aren't a very skilled tracker.  So I'm going to say you can't tell if they belong to anyone you know.

But...

As you peer into the wet earth, you are able to make out a few details about the prints.

First, there seem to be four different sets of them.

Second, they are all larger than your own.  If size is an indication, three of the sets belong to men and one to a woman.

Lastly, the sets go off in mostly different direction.

The woman's prints head to the west.

One of the men's set goes around to the other side of the tree.

Two of the men's sets head to the north.

Being the aspiring playboy that he is, Tristan decides to follow the woman’s tracks.

The tracks skirt the clearing and then plunge into the forest.  The woman seemed intent on diving into every thorn bush and bramble she came across.  Because her trail tends to go that way.

Soon, you can hear soft weeping.

You come from around the tree into an opening in the forest.  A small brook winds through it.  Above, a moon that seems too silver shines down on the water.  The brook, which is only about five paces wide, doesn't seem deep.  Even in the pale moonlight, you can count the stones lining the bottom.

On the other side, kneeling by the bank, is Petronilla.  She's on her knees, face buried in her hands, weeping.

Not far from her, a small cross made of sticks lashed together with leather is sticking up out of the ground.

Tristan watches quietly, deciding it would be wiser to wait until he is spoken to.

There's a rustle among the bushes on her side of the brook.  Petronilla bolts upright, staring around her in wide eyed fright.  She seems to miss seeing you though.

After a moment, she dashes back into the trees, heading away from you.

The forest goes still.

I follow her.

Petronilla crashes through the undergrowth. Her skirt gets caught on a bush and twice she manages to tumble into the mossy ground.

She finally stops, sagging against a tree.  Taking deep, heaving breaths, she wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Damn You!" she yells out into the darkness.  "I'll get out of here again!  Do you hear me?!  I'll get out of this...damn forest..."

She starts sobbing.

I approach her and ask calmly who or what she is yelling at.  My expectation is that she will react negatively, so I prepare to make a break for it if I have to.  After all, I am still a mere child, even though I’m very special.

Petronilla reacts, but it's more in the way a hare suddenly starts from the approach of a large man.

"Ah!"

She almost bolts upright and runs off, but she seems to make out that it's you.

Her face goes blank a moment, and then she barks a laugh.  The laugh goes on for a long time.

"Shear me!  If it's isn't the boy.  Oh my.  Did you get dragged into all this too?  Well.  I suppose that makes sense.

"You want to know who I'm afraid of?  I'll tell you.  I don't know.  That's the worst part about it all."

She chuckles bitterly and wipes fresh tears away with the butt of her palm.

"Well.  I suppose you have the right to know.  As you're stuck here too.

"These woods aren't the woods where we were.  They are different ones.  I can't explain it any better than that.  So don't ask me to.

"There's a fox.  This fox is who brought us here.  And he won't let us go until we catch him.

"Understand Boy?"

Neither nodding or shaking his head, he replies, ”How do we do that?”

He isn’t sure which possibility worries him more: that she either won’t know how… or that she will.

Petranilla laughs.  "If I knew that, do you think I'd be crying?

"We could try digging a pit.  Or grabbing him.  Or tricking him.

"I do know he likes to watch us.  He may be watching us now.  But other than that..."

She shrugs.

“If he’s watching us, would there be any point to digging a pit?  We would need to surprise him.”

She takes a long, slow breath.  "Well.  He's smart, but he's still just a fox.  I know how to set snares.  Maybe if you can make a long enough diversion, he'll watch you.  That will let me set up some snares.  Then we can try to drive him through them."

“What’s to stop him from eating me while I create a diversion for you?” Tristan thinks of all the obnoxious sisters he used to live with down on the farm.

She rolls her eyes.  "It's just a fox.  You're probably bigger then it is."

Tristan considers calling her an animal other than a fox.  But finally he relents.  “Okay.  Any advice for what I should do for a diversion?”

She groans.  "I don't know.  Go out there.  Hoop.  Holler.  Dance a jig.  Just be noisy and get it's attention."

She points to the west, towards two large oak trees.  "I'll set the snares between those two trees.  Go off in the opposite direction until you can't see them, making noise all the way.  When you can't see them, stop and do something really loud for a while.  Then come running back.  I should have everything set up by then."

Tristan sighs, but does what she says.  He begins calling out theatrically for help, trying to look helpless and scared while he heads off in the opposite direction.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:54, Fri 29 Mar.

You head out, calling for aid in the voice of a trembling waif.

You lose sight of Petranilla, as she ducks between the two trees she indicated and seems to start doing something.  Then you are headed into the woods, and unable to see anything.

You can hear the rustle of leaves and the snap of branches.  An owl hoots.  A breeze kicks up and sends a cobweb fluttering into your cheek.

The moon shines brightly for a moment as you step into a space where it's light can fall between the overarching branches.  For a moment, it almost feels pleasant out here.

Then a cloud passes over the moon.

Everything goes quiet.  Even the breeze stops blowing.  The only thing making noise is you.

And then something else starts making noise.  A loud pop and snap.  A stick on the ground snapping as something steps on it.  Off to your right, about thirty paces you figure.

Then another twig snaps.  Fallen leaves rustle as something passes through them.

And for some reason, it sounds like something large.

There's a thumping sound.  Like huge feet are pounding across the forest floor.  Heading your way.

Something seems to be coming.

I stop making noise and try to get away.  Do I spot any good places to hide?  I’m rapidly losing faith in this Petranilla person, not that I had much to begin with.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:26, Fri 05 Apr.

The lumbering is coming closer and closer...

Scanning around, you see two trees you feel you can climb up with little trouble.  One to your left and one behind you, in the direction the lumbering is coming from.

You could dart off to your right as well.  There are some rather tall bushes over there.

Of course trying to run back to Petronilla's trap is also an option.

I’ll try running back to Petronilla’s trap, although I rather suspect she has done me wrong.  Still, I try to execute the plan of luring the beast.

It seems you're both right and wrong.

Petronilla is there, tying a strip of cloth she tore off her skirt onto a stake she's driven in the ground.

She stares back at you, obviously surprised.

"What? You should be dead-"

She stops as the thing chasing you comes into view.

It's not a fox.

It's a large boar.

She obviously wasn't expecting that.

But you think she has set up some kind of trap where she said she would.

Let me know if a map would help

I run towards her, and past her, if I can.  Now I’m deliberately trying to lure the boar directly to her and I don’t give a damn what it does when it reaches her.

She really shouldn’t have said, ‘you should be dead’.

Yeah.  I thought that would get under your skin.

Make me an Athletics/Qik check please.  Stress die.

Thanks

16:08, Today: Tristan rolled 7 using 1d10-2 ((9)).

That may be your best roll of this game

Petronilla blinks as you hop...actually leap...past her.  It takes her by surprise so much that she seems to have forgotten about the boar.

It plows into her.  YOu hear her scream as the boar gores her with its tusk.

Still running?  Or staying to watch?

Still runnning.  I know that old fable about curiosity and the cat.

You hear Petronilla scream and the boar grunt.  Then there's silence.  You continue to run.

As you push further into the woods, you think you can hear soft voices.  From where they come, you can't say.  You're not even sure you are really hearing them.

...you left her...

...left her...

...her.  no more...

...poor thing...

...someone's guilty...

...guilty guilty...

You can see a break in the trees up ahead.  It looks like you're coming up to the foot of a hill.  You can climb it or skirt around the base to the left or right.

I’ll climb it.  If I can, while I do so, I try to get an idea of where those voices are coming from.

You scurry up the hill. It's at an incline, but you're young.  You tough it through and pull your self up onto the crest.

Someone's stuck a torch into the ground at the top of the hill.  Huddling beneath it, trembling, is a fox.

“Hello, Mr. Fox,” I say quietly.

The fox glances at you and then back around.  It slowly, and warily, gets to it's feet.  Paws.  Whatever.

Two things happen simultaneously.  |

First, you hear the growl of dogs.  Big dogs.  The noise seems to surround you from behind.

Second, a large spear thrusts itself into the ground beside you.  It's a huge spear.  You doubt a normal man could handle it.

The fox tenses up and goes low to the ground.  As if it's going to rush away.

You can tell someone besides the dogs is standing behind you.

I turn and look, while simultaneously getting ready to run.  (I know, difficult... but I try it.)

By the way... am I still in the form of a human boy?  I'm wondering if I've been changed...

So, I'm trying to do three things at once here.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:25, Thu 25 Apr.

In reply to Tristan (msg # 88):

Yes.  You are still a boy

Behind you is a large, rough looking man.  He's wearing leathers and some kind of ornate helmet covered in stag antlers.

Around him, a pack of large hunting dogs...more like hunting wolves...are growling at you.  Their eyes are glowing a reddish color.

You hurry down the hill as the man pulls the spear out of the ground.  Beside you, the fox dashes along.

Do you have an Area Lore ability?  I can't recall.  If so, please make a Area Lore/Int test for me please.  Thanks

OOC: I have an Area Lore, but it’s from my exploring childhood and I don’t know if it applies to where I’m at now.  Should I still roll?

Yes.  In this case, the specific knowledge may transfer

20:43, Today: Tristan rolled 9 using 1d10 ((9)).

In reply to Tristan (msg # 92):

Now that may be your best roll yet.

You recall something as you run.  A legend from your home village.

A hunter and his pack who travelled the night and hunted the guilty.  The Wild Hunt.

They would chase down a guilty person.  If the person could survive to sunrise, they were allowed to live.

If not...

For some reason, this situation reminds you of that legend.

You and the fox reach the bottom of the hill.  It stares at you, as if waiting to see what way you are going to go.

You can head into the forest, either to the east, west, or north.

I'll try east.  Any sign of the sun rising yet?

By the way, if the Fox chooses to run in some other direction, I won't complain about it in the least.

No such luck in seeing the sun.  The moon doesn't look like it's budged at all in the sky.

And the fox seems intent on following you.  It rushes in the same direction, veering back if you try to go another way.

You just aren't getting much of a break.

Rushing under the trees, you soon lose sight of the hill.  And then the folliage overhead swallows up what little light the stars were giving you.  Soon you are stumbling through the darkest of darks.  If it weren't for the fox, you would probably be fumbling into trees.

But the fox seems to shimmer.  There's a slight glow to it's fur, and though not enough to make out your surroundings, it is enough so you don't careen into a tree.  The two of you come out onto the bank of a stream.

The stream is not very wide, though too wide to jump.  Maybe five paces across.  You can't tell how deep it is.

On the other side, you can see someone.  A big man is slumped under a tree.  Rulf maybe?

Behind you, in the distance, you can hear the wolves start to howl.

Crossing the stream to get to Rulf?  Or heading along the bank on your side?

I try crossing the stream, cautiously.  How strong is the current?

The current isn't strong at all.  It turns out the problem here is the depth.

You take two strides out.  The water is cold, but it barely rises above the top of your feet.  So it's more an annoyance than a problem.

That third step though.  What a doozy.

Apparently the stream bed falls away at that point.  You step down and your foot continues to descend.  It's a bit of a miracle you pin wheel your arms and make yourself fall backwards.

Landing on your behind on the shallow bank, you blink.

You'll have to swim across the stream.  It's not far.  You should be able to do it in ten or so strokes.

No problems at all.  Right?

Diving in?

Seeing no credible alternatives, Tristan dives right in.  And prays.

The water turns out to be incredibly cold.  It's a shock to your system.  So much so, you lose your breath, and only a great amount of flailing manages to keep you afloat.

Fortunately there aren't many strokes to the other side.  But you feel chilled.  All the way down to your bones.

For the next twenty posts, any roll for physical activity you need to make will be at a -1 penalty

The fox is beside you, nosing you from one side.  It's dry as a bone.  How it managed to do that you don't know.

The man laying in a pile is indeed Rulf.  He is breathing, but seems to have taken some kind of blow to the head.  There's a big gash above his ear and there's a fresh mush of gore seeping out.  He needs a bandage probably.

Tristan takes a quick look around to be sure he isn’t about to get jumped by anything, then does his best to tend to Rulf, first checking to make sure he’s even still alive.  As he does this, he watches the Fox warily, not trusting it at all.

You'll need to make a bandage...a strip of Rulf's own tunic should work.  His chest is rising and falling.  So you think he's still alive.

The fox sits and stares at you intently.  In the distance, the wolves howling is reaching a crescendo.

As you wrap the bandage around Rulf's head, you feel something tug on your sleeve.  It's the fox.  It's biting the elbow of your shirt and seems to be trying to hurry you along.  As if urging you to abandon Rulf and run away.

"I'm not leaving him here.  If you want to run on, go ahead."

Rulf moans and sputters something.  His eyes open halfway.  He seems to hazily try to focus.

"...uhmmmm....I...thatchu?...young master..."

The fox goes a few feet off and sits on it's haunches, growling in your direction.

Rulf starts to try to sit up.  He's obviously still dizzy.  "...stick?...or...sword?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:05, Mon 13 May.

"Try to come to your senses, Rulf.  There is danger coming.  But I don't think this Fox is the threat, but rather what is pursuing it."

Rulf seems to be trying to gather his wits.  But they must have been pretty scattered.  But he manages to right himself onto his feet and stands there-barely-and shakes his head.

"I...uh...what...which way..."

He seems able to walk.  You think.

I try to get him moving while simultaneously taking a quick look around for approaching threats.

You can follow the creek downstream, upstream, or strike out into the woods.

Upstream is the direction you came from, but you were on the other side.  This area seems to be the closest thing to a ford.

The woods look quite dark.

Downstream seems the most navigable with an injured man.

Let’s try downstream.

You hurry Rulf down the bank, the fox trailing after.  The fox makes small barking noises that sound concerned, but otherwise doesn't do anything other than follow.

Rulf becomes a bit more steady on his feet.  After a while, he stops and leans against a tree.

"I feel better young master.  I...ugh.  A boar came outta nowhere and walloped me.  Damndest thing.  Where are we?  Conrad about?  What's goin' on?"

The howling seems to be moving now.  But it's still distant and behind you.