DM Jelly |
The bells atop the Temple of Erastil toll their midday song, echoing throughout the quiet town of Kassen. As the peals begin to fade, the first of the townsfolk make their way into the square, dressed in black, as if attending a funeral. They slowly fill the square, moving quietly across the cold, hard ground, their eyes downcast and mournful. After a few moments, a murmur passes through the crowd as it slowly parts to let Mayor Uptal through.
He leads the way with a tarnished silver lantern. Behind him, an old pony drags a cart laden with backpacks and supplies. Once he reaches the center of the crowd, Mayor Uptal stops and calls out to the assembled townsfolk.
"Once again the winter winds blow through the Fangwood, marking the end of another harvest. There are wolves in the woods, howling at our walls, and serpents in our shadows, waiting to strike. Just as it was one hundred and seventy-four years ago, when Kassen himself left these walls to protect us, so it is today. Where are the heroes? Where are the brave folk that will venture out to Kassen's tomb and retrieve the flame to keep this community safe for another winter?”
At this point, the mayor pauses to let you come forth to accept your mission. Looking you over he asks,
Who among the chosen will have the honor of carrying the sacred lantern?"
please choose who will carry the lantern, it can be carried in your pack.
He then hands each of you a backpack which contains 5 days' worth of rations, a small tent, a winter blanket, a full waterskin and a map that leads from Kassen to the Crypt of the Everflame.
In addition, the following are offered for you to distribute as you see fit:
50 feet of hempen rope, a box containing tinder and three tindertwigs, a labeled potion of cure light wounds, three torches, a grappling hook, and a small bottle of local brandy.
The mayor once again speaks to the townsfolk.
"I present to you the brave heroes who will follow in Kassen's footsteps to retrieve the Everflame! Some of them may not return, but I say to you that their sacrifice shall not be forgotten. Go, brave heroes, and do not return until you have the eternal fire.”
With that, the mayor points to the south, the direction of Kassen's tomb. The townsfolk begin waving goodbye with cold, solemn looks on most of their faces.
Jormel Vallin |
Jormel glances to his companions as Mayor Uptal offers out the ceremonial lantern. He certainly wasn't keen on carrying around a gaudy old lantern without any practical value. Besides, he had more than enough heavy stuff in his pack already. Surely one of the others would be willing to shoulder the burden. Literally.
"While it would be an honor..." He stepped forward, then ducked around the Mayor and his lantern and sidestepped to the rest of the gear. "I think these are a bit more my style."
He eagerly claimed the coil of rope and matching grappling hook."I've always wanted me one of these," he remarked, stowing them away with the rest of his traveling goods.
Eve Valeria Abia |
Eve replies to the Mayor's query with a smile and a bow.
"It'll be an honour to take the lantern and let it light are way back."
She picks up a back pack, and takes the Cure Light potion.
Viorec Gry |
Viorec opens one of the packs and rifles through it. He pulls out the tent and hefts it. Sighing, he looks at the sky. He packs the tent, blanket, and map into his own backpack.
Viorec eyes the rest of the communal gear. "Well, I can see in the dark, so..." He takes the brandy, stowing it in the top of his pack.
"Fool" - Corvid Rhonabwy |
Initially excited beyond words, Fool steps forward and pauses for a moment before picking up the tinder twigs. The nervousness finally overcomes him as he begins to giggle a little, immediately covering his mouth and glancing left and right to see if anyone noticed.
Devlin Sorrow |
Devlin was at first curious about this trip, but as the day drew close Devlin found he was truly excited.
With everyone stepping forward while he was distracted, Devlin was surprised to find that he was the last to commit to this journey. With an embarrassed smile,
It will be my honor to accept this journey in the name of my new home. with a slight bow of his head to the mayor. He joins his companions picking up the remaining pack and strapping the torches for easy access to the outside of it.
Jormel Vallin |
Tipping his head to the mayor, Jormel grabbed his stocked pack and headed for the town's southernmost gate. He turned back and looked to the others with a laugh.
"Whenever you're ready, ladies. Uh- no offense, Eve."
With a wide grin, he turned and jogged off towards the town's stockade before anyone could complain. Waiting for the others, Jormel leaned against the wall. He reached into his pocket and unfolded the map.
Heh, just a hop and a skip through the woods. This shouldn't be so bad.
Devlin Sorrow |
With a smirk, Devlin seems to whisper part of a song or rhyme. Over the hill and through the woods, to grandmothers house we go
So Jormel, which way are we headed? Devlin asks as their best tracker and survivalist heads towards the stockade.
"Fool" - Corvid Rhonabwy |
Clearly struggling with the additional pack, he takes out the tent and sets it aside where it might find a new home. Placing the other items in his own pack, he cuts the winter blanket down to a more manageable size.
Taking six carefully wrapped packages that didnt fit back in the pack, he passes one to each. "I made sandwiches for the trip!" he tells them excitedly, "PBJ's! Pear, Brie, and Jambon! With mustard and honey! Delicious!" Glancing at the thin wax paper sandwiches tied with string, you can see the crusts have been carefully cut off.
Jormel Vallin |
"Great! Thanks, bud."
Happy to have the grub, Jormel took the sandwich and wasted no time tearing away the wax covering before shoving an oversized bite into his mouth. Halfway through the bite, he stopped, realizing he had no idea what he was actually eating.
Oh well. Fool's usual strangeness, he figured.
He gestured with the remaining half, crumbs dropping from both his face and sandwich.
"Mfts mst souf a mays"
It's just south a ways, for those of you that speak mouth-full. And as anxious as Jormel is to roll onward, we'd better wait up for our as-of-this-posting still-nameless inquisitor.
"Fool" - Corvid Rhonabwy |
"Please, call me Fool. When we get a chance later, I'll tell you how I got that nickname," the sound of riffling cards softly emanates from his jacket pocket.
DM Jelly |
We shall proceed; our illustrious Inquisitor can surprise us by leaning contemptuously against a large oak tree. Smoking a thin black pipe, a purple hat with large white feather hung low over his brow...he's pimpin'.
The first two hours proceed with you five chatting with adolescent excitement and retelling childhood stories of the crypt. Some of treks being uneventful, some where the chosen are wounded or have not returned but all glorious and admired. The weather has been beautiful, sun shining down upon you, framing a glorious romp through familiar woods.
When your trail rounds a large rock outcropping the wind picks up slightly and the sun hides behind a 50 ft cliff. It is colder here and your conversation ends abruptly. You feel the chill and sweat turns frigid under your clothes. Your narrow happy go lucky path now winds through raking claws of trees bereft of their leaves which crunch loudly underfoot. Up head, a fallen tree trunk blocks the path........
Suddenly a trio of snarling humanoids leaps up from behind the log, all greenish skin and fearsome tusks, bellowing vulgar challenges!
Initiative rolls please.
We shall pause the action until the above mentioned PC joins us but get prepared!
Muahahahaha!
"Fool" - Corvid Rhonabwy |
initiative: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15
Fool makes a subtle gesture with both hands at the furthest creature that is still within 30'.
DC 14 Will save or Roll twice and take the lowest roll for one round. And if he fails:
He laughs in an especially sharp manner, uncharacteristic of the giggle you heard earlier.
cackle extends the duration to 2 rounds, please attack him last.
Emil Soulbinder |
Emil doesn't come forward to get the handouts from the Mayor. These things are beneath him, let the others be beholden to the townsfolk. See what kind of trouble it is worth in the long run. Emil does make it clear that he was sent by Gorum himself (at least that is what the dreams say) while he pats is longsword to add emphasis.
Once the party is on its way, he keeps the front of the pack wanting to lead by example. Just before the greenskins attack he berates the one that calls himself a fool, Enough jabber out of you little foolish one. The whole woods will know that we are here if you keep that up.
When the attack occurs he glowers at the fool, blaming this all on him.
Initit Check: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
Jormel Vallin |
Init: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17
Taking a step back, Jormel grabs for his bow and strings it with a practiced hand. His eyes carefully watch the three creatures, then he tips his head to Viorec.
"So... I take it your family's not just up for the weekend, huh?"
"Fool" - Corvid Rhonabwy |
Enough jabber out of you little foolish one. The whole woods will know that we are here if you keep that up.
A low growl and 3 sharp yips issue from his tapestried shoulder bag, "Hush, my sweet. Not everyone can help the way they smell."
Jormel Vallin |
He grinned at Viorec, who was obviously not enjoying the family reunion.
"Alright, alright. Bad joke."
Reaching for his quiver, Jormel quickly nocks an arrow and aims it at the greenskinned creature directly in front of him. With a stifled chuckle, he loosed his bow.
+1 from Point-Blank Shot
Atk: 1d20 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 4 + 1 = 10
Dmg: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Will: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
Now there's a good start if I've ever seen one!
"Fool" - Corvid Rhonabwy |
It's actually misfortune that they are saving against. Cackle gets no save.
But more importantly I did not read your post closely enough on my phone and I thought he was saving against my effect. I caught it and deleted the post while you were responding.
will: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20
Devlin Sorrow |
With an Ah ha! Dev draws his sword and then charges the one on the left.
As the thrust goes wide, Master would not approve.
Attack:: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 4 + 2 = 11
Dmg:: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Will Save: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (15) + 0 = 15
AC 16 until my next turn, I'll also use Deed: Opportune Parry and Riposte (Ex) on the first one to attack me
"Fool" - Corvid Rhonabwy |
Enough jabber out of you little foolish one. The whole woods will know that we are here if you keep that up.
"What's that? No, no, he's far too hairy to be a goblin."
Viorec Gry |
Viorec thrusts his hand toward the rightmost orc. "Syra." A small orb of acid flies at the creature.
ranged touch: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15
damage: 1d3 ⇒ 3
will: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19
Viorec dashes back behind Emil and Eve. I'll try moving my avatar on the map when I get home. It's not working on my phone.
DM Jelly |
Delvin charges with his sword but momentarily slips on the leaves missing his mark.
Jormel pulled his string back, nocks an arrow yet his grip slips loosing the arrow into the woods, somewhere a squirrel screeches squirrel expletives.
Viroec slings green goo wounding the northern most Orc!
Big bad guys:
numbered 1,2,3 from top to bottom
Orc 1 attacks Devlin Greataxe: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20dmg: 1d12 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5
Orc 2 throws his javelin at Emil Javelin: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15dmg: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9
Orc 3 throws his javelin at Eve Javelin: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16dmg: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
"Rarrrr!" a throaty howl from Orc three!
Devlin is deeply wounded! Blood appears to be spurting from his chest where the Orc struggles with removing its Greataxe.
Eve takes a javelin in the leg narrowly missing an artery and Emil looks contemptuously at the javelin which sails off into the distance.
Fool, Eve and Emil are up.
Devlin Sorrow |
Hey guys, it looks like I'm alright. Reaching down he pats at his body, I sear there's no pain at all. I think these guys are illusions, I suggest we fan out and find the sneaky mage behind them. He starts to scan the area keeping his blade out just in case.
"Fool" - Corvid Rhonabwy |
Detect magic.
Jormel Vallin |
"Fakes?"
Jormel eyed the others, then eyes the orcs. They hadn't actually moved, which even Jormel had to admit was a bit odd. He'd always imagined orcs would be charging, rampaging madmen.
Even if Viorec did defy all of those stories.
"How about that."
He pulled another arrow and shot it at the middle orc's chest, still inclined to disbelieve his eyes.
Atk: 1d20 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 4 + 1 = 16
Dmg: 1d8 ⇒ 3
Will: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12
DM Jelly |
When you all finally accept that these are only illusions the orcs begin to dissipate.
Jormel, in his skepticism, manages to connect with one yet due to his internal debate the arrow flies through causing further squirrel-ish expletives.
Fool finds fleeting remains of magical dissonance south of the fallen tree trunk, upon your searching (of course you took 20) nothing is found.
Your party decides to leave this area in a quizzical yet merry mood. The trees begin to part, the sun shines upon you and your path widens alleviating the somber mood caused earlier. Viorec's "lizard" begins salivating...fox would taste good for dinner...
After you have followed the map for most of the day, the sunlight begins to fade and a cold wind begins to rattle through the now leafless forest.
Please make Survival checks.
Jormel Vallin |
"Night's fallin'. Guess we'd better break for camp soon."
Should have taken that squirrel with us. And maybe a few of his friends. And a big steak.
Survival: 1d20 + 5 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 + 5 = 16 +5 is from a trait bonus for getting along in the wild, if this suitably fits.
"Fool" - Corvid Rhonabwy |
aid survival: 1d20 ⇒ 16
DM Jelly |
Due to Jormel and Mr Rhonabwy's savvy camping skills you are able to create a comfortable site surrounded on three sides by thicket.
The sun disappears over the forest and a cold night descends eerily. You realize you are on your own and for some of you, this is the first sleep deep into Fangwood forest. A desolate quiet descends upon your camp stilling your attempts at warm humor.
Eve and Vioroec hear wolves howling in the distance! The Fool's fox growls and its hackles rise, the compsognathus flicks its tongue smelling the air nervously.
Your troupe hears howling closer now and over the next hour, the howling seems to grow ever closer then nothing, no howls for the past ten minutes...
Perception checks please
"Fool" - Corvid Rhonabwy |
aid perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18
"Fool" - Corvid Rhonabwy |
"This is the best part. Squirrels can be fried and served with biscuits and gravy, cooked and prepared with dumplings (a fine way to serve the older, tougher squirrels), or cooked, removed from the bone, and prepared as squirrel pot pie, also a good way to prepare older squirrels."