Musami will grip his earth breaker and watch from the brush as the bear and figure approach. If they approach the camp he will be ready to strike, should they prove hostile. He will otherwise attempt to remain as silent as possible.
Toruk will also silently watch and wait from cover.
As the man and bear rapidly approach the campsite the campers seem to have become less watchful of their surroundings, of the darkness of the woods. Only Jocasta notices as a large furry figure on two legs jumps crashing and loud into the clearing, snarling and snapping beside Musami's partly opened pack. With a deep growl the black and grey furred thing ...
Jocasta is still rubbing the sleep from her eyes and getting up from her bedroll when the monstrous wolf-creature leaps into the campsite. With her limited suite of weapons, there is little that she can do other than to let out a shout and grab for a stick to thrust into the fire.
The wolf snarls savagely at the woman waving a fiery brand at it, swiping at the air to keep her weapon at bay. The beast snatches up Musami's pack in it's off-hand and bounds back away from the flames, retreating to the edge of the clearing, it's back to the brush and bushes.
Jocasta: 21
Musami: 21
Toruk: 19
Wolf: 13
Cedryk: 12
Braggi: 10
Filnefillan: 8
Boron the Bear: 7
Hedgewyk: 2
Seeing his pack snatched up Musami will charge the furry thing and swing his earth breaker.
If he's got an angle that won't hit a party memeber, he'll use his Color Spray, DC 15, spell to attempt to dazzle the wolf and potentially bring it down.
If that's not feasable, then he'll close and cast Mage Armor on himself.
Yelling as he runs towards the clearing, Cedryk attempts to warn the party.
"Stop! Do not harm him. It is the smith from Hommlet...he is afflicted with lycanthropy."
A little too late Musami recognises the creature.
It is the Hommlet smith. Harm him only if you must.
Toruk will charge the beast and strike it twice with the intent to do non-lethal damage.
Toruk steps up 5' to the wolf, man-wolf, or werewolf, and attempts two strong blows which it manages to block aside, neither landing solidly on the massive, furry, barrel-chested beast. The creature's massive paw rips into Musami's bag, manhandling a chunk of rations, and leaps over the shrubbery and into the woodlands beyond.
"Let him go - better for him to run off with some food than to risk infecting any of us," says Jocasta, still holding the burning brand. "And I'd rather we find a way to help him than to kill him."
Braggi stands and grabs his weapon, ready to strike if the creature is willing to fight. He puts himself one step forward, standing between the wolf and his companions. "Grab the food and go." He hopes Jocasta's plan works.
As the wolf creature rushes off into the woods the bear accompanying Cedryk ignores the druid beside it and continues into the woods and beyond after the retreating beast. In quick order the pair outdistance your group and slowly silence returns to the area.
Cedryk returns to your small copse, retrieving Hedgewyk and greeting your band.
"So, Hommlet, and its environs, are much more than meets the eye, that much is for certain." Fil says flatly. "I am more than unhappy to see lycanthropes running around this area. I am even more disappointed with my archery skills, but that poor Smith. No wonder the bandits have an eye on the town, they are likely making sure no one is getting more cursed, especially their spies."
Fil frowns and looks downward. "My deepest apologies for bringing that horror towards our camp."
I apologize to you all for my absence. I learned some things last evening and today which my mistress and feared, though not in the manner in which I found them. The blacksmith of Hommlet is a druidic acolyte, similar to myself, albeit more further along in his studies. He was working closely with the Druid of the Grove, Jaroo Ashstaff. My mistress sent me to Hommlet to deliver a warning to him, a letter discussing certain dreams she had, in which the druid was in danger. Last night at the grove I discovered he had a large wolf chained in silver, bound to a post before the great menhir. I mistakenly thought it may have been the danger I sought to avert. It was not.
The druid was attacked a few weeks ago by a traveler who came through town, a werewolf who bite the smithy and fled into the night. Unable to cure the druid Jaroo was supposedly working with the druid to learn to control his changes, to prevent him from harming anyone else. To my knowledge he has not yet harmed anyone, and from what we witnessed here he may yet be able to learn some control over his fate.
Jaroo asked me to accompany him today on a short trip out of town, to visit with parishioners and see some of the local holy sites. This was a lie. While we did visit the mill, since he said the family was ill and needed medicines for an unnamed contagion, we then traveled along the river into the marshes to the south of Nulb. He was accompanied by his familiar, the bear Boron. I noticed the bear was acting oddly, but plants make more sense to me and I failed to realize the danger until too late. It seems he has been using charms upon Boron, and likely Hiram too, to make them complacent and controllable while he worked whatever foulness he intended for Hommlet.
Jaroo showed was not whom he claimed to be, and he attacked Boron and myself, pitting us against a great gar which nearly killed poor Boron. Before transforming into a grey raven and flying off, I glimpsed that he was not human at all, instead was more or less a gray, clay like humanoid, but slender and frail, with gangly limbs and half-formed facial features. His flesh was pale, moist and hairless, his eyes big, vacant, and white.
Realizing the town was in danger, Boron and I attempted to race back to Hommlet, to help Hiram secure himself in the grove. Alas we were too late, Hiram has changed, but hopefully he was able to escape town before he turned and did not afflict anyone with his curse.
One last thing, Jaroo warned me as he flew off, his voice in my mind, saying
That makes some since lad. I worked with the smithy Hiram this morning, on a few horseshoes. He seemed a bit lumped in the head, an ingot or two out of shape. He had lost his feel for the steel, his heart's fire unstoked. This curse and your druid's magic might explain that. I had hoped to learn something of his skills while here, but now it looks like we must try to save him first from himself. I sensed no danger from him, only sadness and loss.
We got a late start this day, looking for you a bit of it. Slightly scolding, slightly disappointed, next time you feel the need to run off, let someone know. If Jaroo had tried to kill you, none of us would have ever considered the bogs near Nulb to be your resting place.
It seems we attracted attention of our own last evening and this morning at the inn. The bartender Meridosen and a traveling, self described bounty hunter, more likely mercenary named Zert Delang. The merc provided us a map of the area marked with a supposed hobgoblin encampment of bandits which might have had a hand in attacking Lord Verdent's wagons, taking his niece and others prisoner. Fil and Toruk will likely say more about those two, myself I was more concerned with our own observations.
We returned late, as I said, to the site of the attack from yesterday. We found the wagon tracks leading away and followed them for several hours until they met up with the main road and divided. Most of the wagons traveled north, in the direction of either Nulb or the hobgoblin valley Zert mentioned. The other wagon had been reloaded, was heavier, and turn east off the roadway, connecting with the old road and coming down this way.
We decided to take a chance and followed the single wagon, fearing Zert's information was erroneous and the prisoners were being led to the ruined moathouse. We made it this far before deciding to camp for the night. The moathouse is about two miles away, on the edge of the marshes, and we did not want to alert anyone of our location if the place is being manned or watched.
This Zert claims to be just passing through Hommlet, yet was able to draw us a fairly convincing map. He said he was from Narwell, an outpost of Greyhawk, but most everyone suspects the place is full of spies and sabetours from the Pomarj. He certainly fits that description.
Though pretending not to know or care while together in the pub room, after hours Meri and Zert joined together for "intimate" activities. I overheard, simply because they were too loud and altogether unashamed, the pair of them discussing our arrival. What they said, that I could make out mind you, was . Clearly they were referring to reporting us to their bandit overlords, spies for the bandits. I would not be suprised if they have not already alerted who or whatever this Lareth is of our activities.
I tried asking that Meri if we could trust Zert, and she pretended not to really know him. What kind of strumpet beds a man she doesn't know. Him and her have got to be in league together. What other reason could she have for not admitting to sleeping with a guest. And what reason could he have of giving us information on that hobgoblin camp, if not to lead us into a trap, away from the real bandits?
As the conversation winds down Musami looks longingly at his bedroll.
Toruk listens with a bowed head as the other share what they've learned. "It sounds like Hommlet is in grave danger. I pray we find the source of the threat at the Moathouse. We must be ready to move at first light. Shall we set guards for the remainder of the evening?"
Toruk volunteers to take the next watch.
"Alright, yeah... so, let's go back to bed. We're keeping the current watch assignments, right?"
Braggi goes back to his blanket, but has an eye open for a while before catching sleep again.
Jocasta slowly rises from her guarded stance, then puts the branch back into the flames and settles down by the fire. "Yeah. I think it's coming up on my turn."
Exhausted by all that had transpired that day, Cedryk and Hedgewyk lie down under the spreading limbs of the tree and almost instantly fall asleep.
Morning comes sooner than any of the weary travelers are ready for, the stress and strains of the previous day still swelling within joints, aching in strained muscles, tugging at tight tendons. The night passed quietly and quickly, creatures throughout the area silenced as Hiram and Boron stalked the shadows.
Overhead the clouds are slowly gathering, heavy and dark, the sun rarely peeking over their crowding masses. A soft chill comes with the frosty dew.
Your party is about two miles from the moat house, you could reach it within an hour. Are the caravan prisoners there? Is the stolen wagon within? Where within the rising cedars and mangroves did Hiram and Boron end their chase?
Hommlet sits unaware of the events unfolding, Jaroo's treachery, the dangers Hiram might represent, the secret power suspected behind the bandits. It would take almost three hours to reach the town.
Our plan was the moathouse, yes? Lets strike camp and head there. Musami packs his belongings back into his pack and prepares to begin the walk.
"My worry is for the smith Hiram and what he might do to the people of the town. There was also a family at the watermill who could be in distress as the fake-Jaroo visited them just before we departed the town. Are you sure this is the most expedient path to follow?"
The young druid looks worn and uncertain as to the next step he should follow.
We have many different concerns at this time. The kidnapped, the smith, the druid, the family at the mill, the bandits. Which do we see to first?
"People were already pursuing the smith, yes? So someone in the village already knows about him. And they weren't chasing him with weapons - their intent was to help, not harm. We can help, but it is in their hands for the moment. The kidnapped people, who we think are at the moathouse, have nobody else. We need to see that through," says Jocasta. "We've come all the way out here, we should at least see if there's any evidence at the moathouse that the captives were taken there."
Will the smith return to his home or forge for the day? It is daylight now. If we get back to town by nightfall we should be able to restrain the smith then, shouldn't we?
"... and leave the captives in ever more dire peril," replies Jocasta. "The smith-wolf stole some food and ran away. He didn't attack us. There have been no rumors in the town of people being mauled by wolves, at least none that I've heard, and that would certainly be the gossip of the common room at the Welcome Wench if it were the case. We can deduce that he hasn't assaulted anyone in Hommlet yet - and at the same time, we know that hobgoblins and other goblinoids will enslave or even eat captives that they take. We need to check the moathouse first, while we are here."
That is what I meant Jacosta. We are only an hour from the moathouse and three from town. We could go to the moathouse and have a look, then still be back to town by nightfall. As the discussion continues Musami takes the chance to neaten his hair and beard from sleep.
The group decides to check the moat house for a few hours, leaving for Hommlet by four bells past noon to reach the town safely before the clouded sun begins to set and the moon starts to rise.
The band hustles quietly towards the moat house, noting the wagon tracks continue along the roadway. Nearly an hour into the trek the road branches off onto a long avenue of mangrove trees, their mossy branches arching overhead, joining with those from the opposite berm to form a thick, oppressive canopy blocking out what little daylight the sun provides. In the distance a stone structure rises, black and sickly green stone, awash in fire-stained soot and pale green lichen.
The wagon tracks continue further down the decrepit roadway, following the ancient path to where you cannot guess. Zert's map doesn't indicate what if anything lies beyond, indeed marking instead the roadway ends.
Traveling down the long lane towards the STRUCTURE the air seems thick and close, musty from mold and mildewing rot. Sounds seem to muffle the closer you get, the buzzing of insects and occasional plop of something dunking into the marshy waters beyond the edges of the lane startling you all now and again.
After nearly a hundred feet the trees thin, giving you a glimpse of the wilderness beyond and the small ruined fortress ahead. It appears to be little more than a stone manor surrounded by a walled courtyard fronted by a partially collapsed tower. The upper stories of the manor are burnt and fallen, their wooden tresses and façade long ago succumbing to the elements. The condition of the manor's interior is dubious at best. The marshland sounds seem to hush away as you break from the cover of the mossy cedars into the open air before the moat house.
Roughly forty feet on, a dank and fetid moat has partly been overcome by the surrounding marsh, the whole island upon which the building stands slowly sinking into the depths. From this angle the moat seems to entirely circle the place, a dilapidated bridge laying down over the still waters before a battered gateway adjacent the tower, one door down and splintered ages ago, the other hanging by one rusty chain from the barbican above.
Jocasta keeps looking at the ground as the group approaches the overgrown structure.
"Anyone see wagon tracks? Or even footprints?" she asks.
Survival:
Musami will look at the stone structure with his keen dwarven eye. He is looking for structural integrity, but also any strangeness in the stone work.
As Cedryk and Musami move forward to check the area the murky swamp around the lane erupts in an explosion of mud, slime and algae as a large group of frogs jump up from the waters, eager to be the first to snack on the sudden meal entering their hunting grounds...
Initiative Order:
First Group: Filnefillan, Toruk, Hedgewyk vs Small Frogs 1 & 2
Second Group: Musami vs Small Frogs 3 & 4
Third Group: Braggi, Cedryk, Jocasta vs Big Frog & Biggest Frog
"Go away little froggies. We are not breakfast!"
Toruk moves up and pummels the nearest frog.
Toruk moves up and quickly launches a strike at Small Frog #2. His foot connects solidly beneath the amphibian's jaw, crushing it's ridged under palate and collapsing it's throat. The creature lolls backwards, mouth open, flopping side to side as it attempts to gather a breath, slowly suffocating to death.
Hedgewyk circles around on Cedryk's shoulder, not sure how to act against such large creatures, big enough to swallow the small leshy whole.
Small Frog #1 hops around the edge of the rickety drawbridge, trying to get an angle on Cedryk and his tasty minion. It lashes out with it's narrow, sticky tongue, attempting to grab at the little treat.
successful
unsuccessful
Initiative Order:
First Group: Filnefillan, Toruk, Hedgewyk vs Small Frog 1
Second Group: Musami vs Small Frogs 3 & 4
Third Group: Braggi, Cedryk, Jocasta vs Big Frog & Biggest Frog