In Search of Heroes
Game Master verdigris

Round 4 Init 17

Suddenly bereft of shield Nimeon withdraws into the previous room.

"I am no good against these creatures without a blunt instrument."

Round 4 | Initiative 19

Satisfied with Kast's performance on the first skeleton, Dorial tries to aid more. Stepping forward (if needed} she provides Kast with another bit of guidance.

Round 4

Simon hefts another rock, then considers his first two efforts and the pack of his friends blocking the way, and decides against a third attempt.

Chrystosm swings but misses, nearly twirling in a circle in the attempt. Nimeon moves back allowing Kyson room to move up with the club, but even with Dorial's added guidance, he cannot hit the last skeleton. The skeleton, stuck in his mindless rage, tmakes it passed the cage door to attack the now closest enemy, Kast.
Simon weighs his options, but hesitates for fear of losing his new friend, the rock.

skeleton attack 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 = 201d4 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3

begin next round

Round 5

Kast takes the rake from the skeleton almost as a badge of honor.

Good hit, but soldiers FiGHT!

Kast, now feeling truly engaged, tries to end the skeletal foe once and for all.

1d20 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 3 + 1 = 10 to hit;
1d6 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9 damage.

Round 5, init 20

Chrystosm, feeling thoroughly humiliated, makes an angry attempt to land a blow on his opponent.

Attk 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (13) - 3 = 10 Dmg 1d8 ⇒ 1 Blimey...

After several attempts, Kast and Chrystosm are able to do in the skeleton, shattering it into a dust and debris. In the last cell lays another skeleton, though it does not rise at their approach. Peaceful, it lays as if laid out for burial, arms crossed over his heavy leather apron.

I thought you all might be as tired of the skeleton as I was...

"Hum"

Chrystosm hands Kast back his morningstar and surveys the remaining skeleton.

Perception 1d20 ⇒ 2, wearing sunglasses, with a bag over his head and with cataracts on his cataracts. As bloody usual.

He can't see much, so he decides instead to inspect the room and see if there's anything that he might be able to fashion into a rude club.

"Don't want to get caught out again!"

Kast pants and smiles at Chrysto as the last skeleton falls.

"Way to use the Kassamiri offense to counter the skeleton's Dramok defense, Chrysto. He was a tough one.". Kast says as he runs his arm where the skeleton raked him.

In accepting his morningstar from Chrysto, he returns the club to Dorial.

"It served me well, thank you." Kast looks around.

"Let's see if there is a thing of value here before we press on."

"Hum"

Chrystosm hands Kast back his morningstar and surveys the remaining skeleton.

Perception 1d20 , wearing sunglasses, with a bag over his head and with cataracts on his cataracts. As bloody usual.

He can't see much, so he decides instead to inspect the room and see if there's anything that he might be able to fashion into a rude club.

"Don't want to get caught out again!"

you remember some likely looking club like materials in the other room. (the armory) After a thorough search, you find a reasonable looking club

"Tierce, riposte and TOUCHE!"

Chrystosm replays the fight, miming actions to match his words and grinning at Kast. "I don't know - that underarm sort of twisty strike you used to get under his guard was pretty special. You'll have to teach that to me sometime."

Kast pants and smiles at Chrysto as the last skeleton falls.

"Way to use the Kassamiri offense to counter the skeleton's Dramok defense, Chrysto. He was a tough one.". Kast says as he runs his arm where the skeleton raked him.

In accepting his morningstar from Chrysto, he returns the club to Dorial.

"It served me well, thank you." Kast looks around.

"Let's see if there is a thing of value here before we press on."

The last, peaceful skeleton wears a gorgeous ring of gold set with a burnished red stone.

Kast laughs.

"Yeah, I call that move the 'Oh crap, I've overextended *again* and now I'm off balance and flailing flailing flailing' manovuer. I usually use it when I trip. Effective, ain't it?" Kast replies with a smile.

And one day my lack of movement and balance will get me killed. Tis good that I'll never be true soldier.

Kast rubs his twisted left leg as if hoping for more mobility in the next fight.

sniff, sniff, sniff? Is that loot?

If anyone mentions the ring, Othoe tries to get in to see with Detect Magic going.

Nimeon shakes his head ruefully at his uselessness in the last fight before making sure his wound is properly covered.

"Well fought. I wonder at the last one remaining dead."

While all of the skeletons wear leather aprons with the (now familiar) symbol of Torag on them, the three that raised as skeletons seem to have voided their vows to the master of the forge to turn to Droskar, for his symbol has been rudely scratched into the leather over the one of their previous god.

Not so, the fourth, peaceful skeleton. His apron is as pristine as the day he dawned it (aside from the usual dust of the cell, that is). At peace with his god, he seems to rest easy. Othoe notices the ring on his finger as the source of the magic, and is able to make out that it is a Ring of Torag.

moving right along... if there is anything that you found that you did NOT take with you, let me know...

The group wanders through the ruins, finding mushrooms as they go, all up against the walls. Suddenly it occurs to (someone) that the very dirt and stone of this place must reek of metal. With the rat tail root in Dorial's bag, and plenty of the mushrooms in hand, the group still needs the eldertree moss, for people could be dying right now.

"That ring, it is a ring of Torag. It is a minor magical ring which provides some small measure of fire protection when dealing with magical fire attacks. I'm not sure who would be best to use it, but I suggest one of our front line warriors wear it for now."

"Let us get going and find the eldertree moss. I don't remember though - where is that to be found? We should try to get it today and return to the village tomorrow with the ingredients."

"To the tree!" chimes in Simon, then he tilts his head to the side, as if listening. "Yes, yes, there is a squirrel that lives in the tree that needs a new home, let's hurry my friends!"

"To the tree!" chimes in Simon, then he tilts his head to the side, as if listening. "Yes, yes, there is a squirrel that lives in the tree that needs a new home, let's hurry my friends!"

*lol* I think there'd be an ankheg hunting party out after my head if I let you have a squirrel... a chipmunk, though, those are cute, right?

"Simon, are you sure you're feeling...well?"

Nimeon is clearly concerned for his new found friend.

Erastil has shown me how to find the evil in men's hearts, but how do I see the sickness in their heads?

Kast still bearing the wound from the skeleton, shows some concern for the civilian, Simon.

I thought it was the fever that made him ill. This is more worrisome than I thought.

"We have a map, right? How far to our next destination? Like the gnome says, we should keep moving."

We've taken too long already. Hang in there, Fluke!

"I don't think it was too far to the tree from here."

Dorial looks glances over the weapons that each of the front-liners are carrying on them.

"Seeing as this tree is a druidic icon, perhaps we should prepare to face some fey creatures. I know they don't like specific types of iron."

"Kast are you OK to continue? I, er, I suppose I could heal you if you really need it. I'd rather not - and I know you'd rather not, but I just wanted to make sure you knew that, well you know, the offer is there.

"We need to stay strong for the village."

Othoe makes sure all the loot is packed up and heads out with the others to the tree. He keeps his dagger sheathed not knowing if the fey will dislike it or not. He tries to look non-threatening.

Fey are not skeletons.

When the party is ready

The seems to indicate the elder tree is a few hours away to the east. With the storm passed, the tramping is wet and slow, with mud occasionally sucking at the companion's boots as they trudge along ever deeper into the densest part of the forest.

...but eventually...

The dense trees and thick brush of the forest give way, parting seemingly in respect for the titanic darkwood tree that dominates this clearing. Several times taller than a temple minaret, in one direction the obviously ancient tree reaches into the sky with branches like a giant’s arms, while in the other it plumbs the earth with roots thicker than a man’s waist. Its limbs broad and strong, its bark thick and so richly colored as to almost be black, and its leaves the size of bucklers, the giant thing is less a tree and more a cathedral of boughs and branches.

Simon, bag of bones slung across his torso, wolf pup swaddled in his magical cloak, and Llwynally perched on his shoulder, mutters to himself at the sight of the ancient tree. "Now, old bones, it's just a tree, it's roots stretch and tunnel under the earth, so it's not that different." Any of the companions that are watching see Simon dip a finger into a pouch at his waist, then rub it across his gums, giving him a sparkly smile. "Ahh, much better! Lets see, where's that moss?"

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 1 = 11

Along the way, Kast will try to keep some semblance of a marching order in place, trying to protect the civilians and the, uhm, crazies by putting them in the middle..

Chrysto, Kast, Dorial, Othoe, Simon, Nimeon?

* * *

"That it, really? That's the tree?" Kast says as he leans on his longspear, trying to rest his leg.

"Dorial, what now?"

The clearing is roughly ovular, 180 feet from north to south and 110 feet from west to east. The elder darkwood has a trunk 30 feet in diameter, with low, easy to climb branches (DC 12 Climb check) that extend 35 feet from the trunk in every direction.

Unfortunately, Simon doesn't see any eldertree moss, but Kast, Dorial and Nimeon are all able to see the moss growing on the northern branches about 30feet up.

Chrysto: 1d20 ⇒ 10
Kast: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (13) - 1 = 12
Dorial: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20
Othoe: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11
Nimeon: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12

Othoe waits for one of the more rustic members to tell them what to do. He considers taking up whittling, but then he looks at the big tree and wonders what it would think of such a hobby and puts his knife away.

"I suppose one of us should climb up there to get to the moss. I'm not much of a climber myself although I did get lucky at the tower last night. That was fun."

Kast shimmied up there pretty quickly then too. I wonder if his leg is really that much of a hindrance? He certainly does treat it as such. We should probably leave this to Nimeon or Chrystosm.

"We should look for the fey first. I'm not keen on angering them if asking permission gets us what we want faster."

Nimeon looks around at this point.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16

Kast will do a guards patrol around the perimeter of the tree, his longspear at the ready and his feet ready to receive a charge from a currently unseen foe (probably a gnoll or canopy otyugh) that he is sure is coming.

1d20 - 1 ⇒ (15) - 1 = 14 Perception

"Well, there's one way to find out if they mind or not"

Chrystosm cups his hands around his mouth and unless stopped shouts.

"Helloooo! Good people! We need the moss growing on your tree to cure a plague, so do you mind if we pick some?

Chrystosm's shout echoes through the woods, but is answered by silence. After a moment or three, the birds chirp again, but otherwise no answer seems to be forthcoming.

Neither Nimeon, nor Kast see anyone around, no matter where they might be on the perimeter.

Chrystosm shrugs.

"All clear, as far as I can see. Now all someone has to do is climb u-"

He looks around at his companions, then sighs.

"Alright - and by "Someone" I mean "Me". Here goes"

He attempts to fling his rope over the branches Ranged touch? 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13 to aid his ascent, then climbs up to the moss. 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18

While Chysto climbs, Kast will stand guard near the base of the tree, often switching to face one direction, then another.

"All clear down here, Chrysto. I got your back..ehr, feet."

Dorial looks around the tree as well, looking for signs of anyone else being here. Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21

"This almost seems too easy. I'm half expecting a cauldron to jump down from that tree and attack someone."

Though everyone looks and looks, but sees nothing that will attack. When Chrystosm climbs up, it takes him a time or two to get the rope in place, but eventually manages it. In the tree, while claiming the moss, he sees signs of some large beast making the tree its home, it doesn't appear to be home at the moment.

Simon cups a hand to his ear, one eye scrunching up and the other glazed looking. "Careful, Chrystosm, the Squirrel King says to not disturb his home."

Dorial gives Simon a quizzical look, showing no signs of trying to hide it.

Yup, he's gone mad.

LOL@Simon. :) Squirrel King? I was more worried about a canopy otyugh, aardvarkasaurus, or leaf roper.

Kast's eyes bulge at Simon's statement, but he shakes his head and returns to guard mode.

He didn't say 'Simon says'.

Kast shakes the even more disturbing vision from his mind.

*sigh*

Kast's face is etched with worry.

Othoe looks around, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Kast, why do you worry so? What is it?"

"Simon," Kast answers in a low tone. "I can't fight insanity...that is not a foe to be faced on a field of battle. I cannot help him."

Besides, FeyPants Mountain is the complete other direction. Duh.

Othoe whispers back, "Simon? Yeah. Well, I've been hoping it would go away on its own. You don't think so?"

"I thought it was the sickness...but no, it is a different type of sickness. We should watch him."

"I shall, but I have no spells which can aid him - I am no healer."

Simon leans into the clandestine conversation, "Yes, yes, can't have crazy folks running amok, we should watch him closely, closely indeed." He peers into the bag of dwarf bones then looks back to Kast and Othoe, nodding sagely.

Chrystosm abseils back down with the moss, calling to Simon as he does so:

"It's OK - I'm the Squirrel King's mum!" or mom, if you prefer

He'll hand the moss to someone more responsible as soon as he gets down.

"Bloody big squirrel nest up there, though. Let's go, before it comes back"

"Dorial is there any way to confirm this is the correct moss? This feels...too easy."

Nimeon faces outward, bow ready and ear burning.

"I could examine it, but I think Simon's herbalist skills would be better suited."

Knowledge nature: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16

Simon looks closely at the moss, sniffs it, waves his hands over it while mumbling, then tastes a bit of it.

purify food and drink

Profession (Herbalist) +5: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

The moss, a deep mottled copper color, smells of must and cinnamon, and springs back beneath Simon's touch. After a moment, the herbalist announces, "it's good!"