Castle Caldwell and Beyond: (A 5e Campaign) - The Wrecking Crew (Inactive)

Game Master Terquem

As Wylla turns to leave the forest, a strange man steps out from behind a tree and begins casting a Spell just a few feet from her.

Wylla is caught by Surprise by this spell - she must make a Will Save, the DC is 14 - she can make a Spellcraft roll before the spell takes effect, if she should fail the save, to identify the spell as it is being cast. If she makes the save, she can flee, or stand and confront this individual

Initiative: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19

No will in 5e. Wisdom save instead?

Wisdom Save: 1d20 ⇒ 18
Wisdom Save Advantage (racial trait): 1d20 ⇒ 15

With a piercing scream, Wylla runs, as fast as possible from the attacker.

Wylla feels a strange sensation sweep over her, almost as if the hair on her neck wants to stand up on its ends, and realizing she has run into someone she was not expecting, she turns and flees back the way she came.

Not taking even one glance behind her, she races back to where Isaiah and Wolfgang are still with the other woman encountered on the rocks by the river.

Panting, but not completely out of breath, Wylla rejoins the other two companions.

Wolfgang raises an eyebrow at the panting Wylla. "That was quick. Were you able to speak with the wayward lady?"

Nope - lost her - in the woods. Came bac - back. Got attacked - some kind of caster - weird magic. she finishes, bending over to catch a bit more breath.

"Did you see who it was?" Isaiah asks.

It was just a man, nothing more that I really saw. It was - odd. The magic was hard enough to shrug off.

"Should we go after him?"

Well, we probably could. Not sure we'd find him again, but if we want to, let's go now. Wylla says, shrugging.

"Normally I'd hesitate to wonder off into the woods, but we should probably make sure the young lady is safe." Isaiah says.

of the Chapel Hill

The trees are mostly broad leaf hard wood trees, oak and ash, with an occasional maple or even a nut tree mixed in. The small forest is not oppressive, and the trees have a pleasant spacing. Light filters down through the green leaves giving the place an almost idyllic sort of atmosphere.

After just a few steps past the first of the trees, the group finds a trail (something Wylla would have easily missed when she was chasing after the strange woman) running north and south through the glen.

The trail is well groomed. You can see through piles of old brown and black leaves that it even has a few cut boards lying along the edges of the trail at times. It is clear that following the trail south will take you to the river, and looking that way you can almost see clear through the trees to the rocky riverbank, while following it north will take you deeper into these woods. You chose to go north and a moment later, after a gentle leftward curve in the trail a signpost appears at a fork in the trail. There are two signs on the post, one points to the right, and reads

Dolling House

While the other points to the left, where the trail heads off in a north by northwest slant. The writing on this sign says

Colgary Circle

You see footprints in the soft earth of the trail going toward Colgary Circle

"Hrmmmm. It seems our mysterious foe as gone toward the Circle...or at least that is how he would have us believe."

Wolfgang bends down, seeing if he detect any trace of a trap, or a doubling-back.

Perception!: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (4) + 0 = 4

"Well, I believe the tracks lead to the Circle in truth. Shall we?"

Pawkatukit, Harrispania
– a village, or perhaps small town even, on the north bank of the Deer Creek Falls River, three miles east of Dear Creek Falls, twelve miles west of Seaport

Day 6, before noon, It is the middle of Spring

Wolfgang, Wylla, and Isaiah have come to a signpost in the small woods south of Chapel Hill, just west of the town of Pawkatukit, to their left, the path heads deeper into the small woodland area of western Pawkatukit, while to their right the path leads back to the town proper.

It is just before midday, and the morning has been something of a puzzle. Deciding to scope out the small park on the river bank south of the village, the three friends found a few couples engaged in the simple tete-a-tete of spring

When trying to ascertain if any of these couples had information about Clifton Caldwell, a young woman, whose name they discovered was Kerry, dashed off into the words, suspiciously.

Wylla gave chase, but soon lost the woman, and thinking for a moment she might become lost in the small wooded area, she turned around and headed back only to encounter a mysterious, cloaked figure, possible a human male, who cast a spell in Wylla’s direction. Not wasting any time trying to determine the nature of the spell, Wylla fled, and gathered her friends to venture back into the woods in search of the woman.

Now they stand, pausing for what seems like an eternity, trying to decide what their next course of action should be.

However, often the universe plays out in ways no one can predict, and as fate would have it, the decision would not need to be made at this time.

For coming from the right, toward the town, and what the signpost referred to as Dolling House*, came four strangers, moving at a brisk pace their steps high and light. They were a woman, human, lean and tall, wearing garments of nature’s bounty, furs, stitched together with skill and talent. Her dark hair combed and braided behind her swayed side to side as she approached. With her were three men, though one was small, a Halfling no doubt, the other two appeared to be human men, but from a distance their features were difficult to make out, though one appeared to be elven, while the other had the unmistakable look of a man with ties to the Orc, or Tafganor Kind, as the Urandomen say, of the lands of Tarulle, far to the south.

Vash looked at his newfound companions, whistling a pleasant tune as they made their way. The weather had held, and the Preacher was glad for it; he was not as young as he once was, and the cold had a habit of creeping into his bones. The sun shone down, illuminating (for any that cared to look) the half-elf's sharp features and displaying the flecks of grey that had begun to creep into his hair.

Vash was eager to meet his old companions. He was, for the first time in years, filled with eagerness and purpose. He would have some explaining to do, but he knew if there was anyone he could trust to help, it was them.

Kerak moved down the road, hood of his cloak down as the group traveled. The weather was nice, and there was little need for it. He studied the sides of the road as they went, ever wary for signs of trouble from his days as a scout in the army. Noticing the group of three further up, he shifts his focus, studying them, trying to determine if they were any possible threat. He didn't think so, but one never knew.

As their lonely path becomes a good deal less lonely, Wolfgang asks Wylla, "Harken! We have gone looking for someone and here we have found not one someone but many! Are any of these worthies the person that hath accosted you but mere moments ago?"

Merrum continues walking along his traveling companions, his pace picked up a little to keep up.

"Hey, are they bandits? I don't think they're bandits." he comments.

At the accusation of being a bandit, Wolfgang slowly turns his head, staring at the halfling.

Wolfgang's mouth does not move, but words form in the rogue's head. They are words shouted across a great ravine, and in the cyclopean chasm a thing sleeps. It is not seen, but it is known definitively that it is a thing made of countless tentacles and countless eyes, and the only thing keeping mankind alive is that the thing still sleeps. Across such a thing are the words shouted:

'D̲̣̣̦̘̺̙ͨ̓ͭͬo̠̯ ̖̩͓̗͋͊͆̀̈́̓n̳̠͕̯͌o̱̰̯t̙͈̩̂ͧ̓̅ͩ ͣt̼̝͈͌a̘͈͈͕̦̬ͭ̔k̜͔͖͔̲̬̀͌͊͌ͦ̚e͆̈̏̂ ̈ͩ̀̓̄ͮͪm̯ͤͯ̾̾̄ͣe̳̩̗ ͕͕̫̟̹̪ͣ̂f̠̤̳̬̏́o̟̻̬̼̾̐̎̓̊̃ͯr͚̮̘ͅ ͇͕̪ͅs̝̩̏o̻̻̻ͫ̚ḿ̩͎͚̹͚͇̱e̝͂͋̊͆͌ ͎̙͙̦̜ͬ̀͌̀̇c̻̖̩̘̏ͤͥ͆o͛̉̿̏̂n̬̥͒͑ͤ̆ͨj̲̳͂̓̂̔ͧ͗ȗ̗̅ͩr̯̲̜͔̼͔͖̐̿eͪ̈́͗̍ͅr̙̮͔͉̥ ͕ͅo̽̌̿̔ͥ̆f̮ ̲̜̪͎͊͛ͨ̎̾c̖̆ḧ͍̳̳͍̈́̈́ͧ̅̽e̘͂ͬ́̃ͪ̿ͅa͉̱̔̋ͬ̒̒͂ͬp̼̺̺̣͈͓̃ͭ̏͛̋̄ ̋̓͒ͬͫtͦͯ̈̆͂̆r̬̣̓i̞͕͎̟͐͌c̞̹̯̝͌̓ͪ͋ͅk̮͕̀̂̎̓̔s̮̹̯̖̖̽̎ͮ͗͋͊.͖̭̳͔̬̄͑ͨ̀ͫ ̱͍̗̼̝͎̈ ̤̓̋̍I͖̱̗̼͇̺̬͛̂̔ͬ'̯̣̩̳̠̑̓̈́ͥm̪̼͈͚̙̻̤͗͛̏ ͈͕̀͗ͨn̻̟̆̄ͨͣ̉ot̯̪͎̹̓̋̍ ̤̲̼̯͓̰͈͐͆ͥ͑̂̋t͈̣̻̙̓r̝̦̽ͣ͐ͯy͙͛̓͗̑͛̽̾i̤̫͉̙n̦̺ġ̗̖̤̜̙̅ͫ̉̚ ̇́ͬ̏t͙̪̣̹̎̏͒o̤͂̇͗ͭͨ ͉̜̬̪̭̍ͦ̽́ͩr̦̄̋͛͂̉ǒ̪̼͚̮̤͔̾b͉̉ ̌ͫ̏y̬̘̗õ͍̦̩̘̗̣̼ͦṳ͔̅̑̒̿͋̐ͅ.̠͍̪͕͇͎͆͋̅̓̀͋.͉̣̟̺̻͍̆̊ͤ͛'

Vash blinked.

"Good to know! It's Vash! I've brought some stalwart new allies...we have to talk! I have information for you."

Lilly's mood was light. And why should it not be. She was close to home in a beloved and well known wood, and had just enjoyed a homecoming after many months away. And now she had a handsome and stron (if showing his age a little) traveling companion. She thought Vash was a bit too serious, at least about his specific views on religion, but mostly she enjoyed his company and was even wondering, after more than a week with the man, where the relationship might lead. But before anything could develop their two other traveling companions had joined them. Lilly liked both Merrum and Kerak but could hardly claim to know either.

Seeing the strangers up ahead Lilly paused and looked about, not suspecting, but suddenly worried about a possible ambush. Bad news for them if they are bandits Merrum my new friend. I do not leave bandits in the woods to fall on less prepared travelers. Let us see what these people might be up to. She advances towards the other group with near bravado.

Vash approached the group, and he made sure his weapons and shield were all quite obviously stowed and secure. The cleric walked slowly but steadily, waving.

"Greetings! I am Vash Urias, and I think we might all be able to help each other. Tell me, what are your names, friends?"

Wylla looks to her familiar companions. No, none of these fit the bill of the blackguard that assaulted me in the wood. she whispers to them as the newcomers approach.

Well met all! M'name's Wylla! Pleasure to meet you all on a lovely spring day, such as this! What help do you propose and seek? she says with a flowery bow.

"Nope, not bandits. Creepy. But not bandits." Merrum comments, wiggling a finger in his ear.

"I'm Merrum." he says aloud. "Howsitgoing?"

As the tension leaves the air, Wolfgang smiles. "Good to know you, Vash. Merrum. I am Wolfgang. Von Goethe. What brings you this way? Of note, we are in some haste, for we pursue one who did act uncivilized toward Wylla here, and we have cause to believe we went in that direction."

"Ah! Well, you see, I am here for a reason. I believe Ophallela has guided me here, to you, and that there is a purpose to all of this.

I think you can help me. And perhaps this man you seek is involved with the Black Temple!"

Oh, I really hope they aren't chasing someone involved with that temple. That would be bad.

"Pleased to meet you, Wolfgang, Willa. I'm Kerak Fellspar. Who is it that you're chasing?"

Regarding the three with some suspicion, Lilly holds back and watches.

"Okiedokie! So you need some help huh? I do all kinds of work. Freelance, mostly." Merrum supplies. "Kinda an entrepreneur, you know? But if there's pay or treasure involved, I'd be interested in helping!"

A group of four road weary travelers approach Isaiah, Wylla and Wolfgang.

Some pleasantries are exchanged and when both groups feel there is no immediate danger from each other, Isaiah steps forward and points in the direction the sign post indicates as "Colgary Circle"

Isaiah says

We followed some foot prints, left by who we think is the person who accosted Wylla to this point, and it would seem that they continue on toward this Circle, whatever it may be. I admit I am new to Pawkatukit so I am unfamiliar with the landmarks. Tell me, do any of you know anything about this place?

Just to be sure, Isaiah the Bard, who, I assume, is an NPC now, is asking that question of the newcomers, yeah?

A strange and powerful force has taken over my mind. Be cautious travelelers for I know not what I might do.

Isaiah, knowing what he does, little, about Wylla and Wolfgang, assumes they are not familiar with the outskirts of Pawkatukit, so he is asking the strangers if they know about this "Circle"

"Sorry, I'm not particularly familiar with the area. Anyone else know where we're going?"

I am from here. Or at least used to be. I have been away from some few months and only recently have returned. She will tell what she knows of the Circle before offering Perhaps I can pick up the tracks.

Survival: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

I am unsure what Lilly would know...

Would I know anything about this place, DM?

Word

"So, Lilly, which way do we go to see this druid friend of yours? I imagine they would likely live somewhere around a circle like this one," Kerak asked. "Maybe these fine folks can tag along."

It would be interesting to learn if they're locals or from somewhere else.

Lilly hesitates before offering this information. This circle is a sacred place to my kind. It is not far and I can lead you there IF you agree to keep the place sacred and honor nature there. A druid lives near there and now I feel that I should check on them. If you agree, then please follow me.

"Sure... honor nature and whatnot. How hard could that be?" Merrum says, chuckling to himself.

"Fair enough."

A druid! The opportunity for information and new designs for jewelry would be astounding! I wonder what they would think of the ability to shift material from one form to another. A whole new line.... Wylla's rapidfire words soon gurgle down to a low, unintelligible muttering.

"I'm certain these three will show the Circle the respect it deserves, and Preacher Urias can see this Druid friend of yours who may know a way for him to find this Black Temple he seeks." Kerak says in response to Lilly.

"So...you are a jewelry merchant?" Kerak asked, somewhat confused. Most jewelers set up shop somewhere and hired people to go looking for those who committed some crime or something to them - they didn't go hunting them themselves. Still, she was a gnome, and gnomes were rather odd.

Merchant? No, not quite a merchant. I am a member of the jeweler's guild, mainly as a creator of designs for the sake of beauty and perfection. I have sketches, and more sketches, if you ever want to look. I'm just now finishing some thoughts on a kobold series of rings. Striking and bold, mix of new and old. she says, suddenly very animated that someone has shown interest in her work.

So be it. Follow Lilly leads the group towards the circle.

Lilly moves through the intersection, past the sign post and as the others make way for her they, one after another, fall in line behind her.

It has been a while since she has been in or around Pawkatukit, but it is as if the little forest south of the Chapel Hill has not changed at all. The piles of leaves from autumn’s past, the little patches of wild mushrooms growing up out of thick carpets of green clover, the tall purple, blue and gold wild flowers, and the scents, the glorious earthy smell of deep roots and growing things all seem so familiar to her.

The party walks single file down a well-cared for path that could easily accommodate three abreast in silence. The trees are not close together here. Some are old, but most are young, and still they are the sorts of trees that are broad in their girth growing straight and tall before even a few thick branches begin to split off from the trunks. The leaves overhead are a bright spring green, but not yet full and a good amount of golden sunshine filters down and all around them.

In just a short time the path ends in an open glade, a field some fifty yards in each direction. Wild flowers grow heavy here, but there are no trees. A few small, thorny bushes grow in the center of the glade around a collection of standing stones each of which reaches to a height of eight to ten feet in the air.

Across the glade through the sparse trees to the west you see a tall, conical, thatched roof, above a short walled but large home. The home is built from dark wood, and the walls you can see are decorated in colorful painted charms and signs. From the rafters that support the roof and hang out and over the edges of the walls you can see, and hear, many small wind chimes made from wood, metal, bone, and other materials difficult to identify in the soft ethereal chatter that plays like a constant melody of good graces and welcome tidings floating across the forest floor toward you.

As you cross the glade, getting closer to the circle, and going around its southern side a tall stately elven woman emerges from the house.

She wears a long dress, of heavy fabric, dyed a warm brown color and a light vest of sheep’s skin. Her hair is the yellow of daffodils, and her skin is the ruddy tan of the Naramites, the wild, woodland elves of southwestern Harrispania.

The woman is still a good distance away, but she turns, after closing the door to the house and begins walking toward you.

If you keep the pace you are making now, you will meet her at the far edge of the glade, some twenty yards from the circle.

Lilly is somewhat enchanted by the sights and sounds and smells of her childhood forest. This was home.She hoped she was doing no wrong by bring these people her. Well the trail was plain enough and they certainly could have found it without her. No, with the rumors of strange happenings she was glad she was checking on the circle and its guardian.

When she sees the elven woman she smiles and waves in greeting calling out to her in druidic.

The party comes to a stop, transfixed it would seem by the beautiful elven woman who begins to approach them for the house…

During the stroll through the forest, Kerak keeps a careful eye about the area, his old scout's instincts cataloguing sounds and wildlife, watching the trail before them, and keeping an eye out for danger in general. Despite Lilly's familiarity with the area, whoever it was had accosted the gnome was still out there - and may have brought friends.

Once they find the circle, Kerak studies it, wondering slightly how it was built. As the elven woman approaches them, he eases his blades in their scabbards. Supposedly this was the druid who would be able to tell Vash the location of this Black Temple he sought - and perhaps more information? It would be interesting to find out. Kerak looks about the glade, trying to see if there are any signs of others here.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10