Round 1 (ongoing):
Initiative order
Seamus-acted
Trianne-acted
Will-o'-wisp-acted
Svarog
Haftor
Jarrek
Trianne raises an arcane defense around Jarrek, while Seamus hurls a pellet at the wisp. The gnome's alchemical weapon narrowly misses. Its efforts to avoid the attack, though, leave it unable to capitalize on Jarrek's continued inattention, and its strike also misses. It continues to hurl accusations of thievery at the half-orc and the rest of the party.
"HOLD! We are no thieves!" Svarog bellowed. "The lantern was given us, to bring here. If you truly are a spirit of the druids who once dwelled here, hold and listen!"
The wisp pauses for a moment. "Who gave it to you?"
Haftor, who had been lining up a shot with his crossbow, delays a beat to hear if anyone from the party answers. He thought they needed a dead wispy, so he was a bit confused by Svarog's parley.
Jarrek had been going for his falchion but he stops when the ball of light starts talking to them. "A druid named Silvermane. He lives near Trunau. Told us to find the Vault of Thorns, where we could find a cache left by his former circle, the Council of Thorns, with items that will help us fight a band of orcs and giants called the Twisted Hearts."
The wisp continues to hold off on attacking. "Young Silvermane, eh? Tell me more. If it's truly from him I can help you."
Svarog nodded, though his habitual scowl did not leave his face. "He told us that near the banks somewhere, there is an entrance to another plane of being. We seek aid from those who were the Council, and we go there to gain it, on Silvermane's recommendation. He does not speak, but another translated his signs for us."
The wisp changes its visible manifestation to that of an aged, bearded human male. "Ah. I sincerely regret my attack, in that case. I was once called Mossmoon, and I am the last of the druid circle that guards the marsh and the Vault of Thorns. Follow me--you have my word that I will not lead you astray." He drifts away slowly, giving you all a chance to keep up.
He conducts the party along a circuitous path, one that stays (for the most part) on solid ground, eventually reaching another small clearing. The floor of the clearing is littered with spongy spheres, each about a foot in diameter.
Mossmoon seems lost in a reverie, whispering reverently as he crosses the clearing. "Hawthorn...Oakhand...Sun Wolf...Goldbirch...all gone. Here--take this one. Merriwind was one of Silvermane's first teachers, and they were close." He indicates one of the spheres. "Place his body in the lantern, and it will show you the way. Do not touch the central stone before you've shone the lantern's light on it. Fare you well, and carry my greetings to Silvermane when you see him. I wish you luck with the orcs."
Haftor lowers his crossbow with an appreciative grunt. He didn't fancy himself particularly violent, but he thought all wispies were evil spirits and he had just assumed that they would need to kill one.
"Hmph," he added as he followed the spirit and listened to its whisperings. A reverence for its lost comrades is to be respected. Haftor bows his head and whispers a prayer for the fallen and takes mental note of the directions for the use of the lantern.
"The respect you pay for those you have lost brings great credit to you, Mossmoon. May the blessings of Torag be upon you."
Seamus looks mildly bewildered at the compassion and caring shown by the Will-o-the-wisp, not something he would have ever expected...Aye, thank you for your aid and help. Be well Mossmoon, and may you continue to exist in peace for your fallen brethern... the gnome seems overly reserved with the emotions 'displayed' by the image of the old man...
Jarrek takes the spongy orb reverently. "Thank you, Mossmoon." He nods at his companions in agreement. "We will do our best to honor your peoples' sacrifice, and I will remember your names and tell your story." The big half-orc does as directed and places the will o' wisp husk in the Ghostlight Lantern.
Trianne squatted down at a respectful distance to see the spheres from another angle, eyeing them with an awe and wonder for a few moments before rising again.
“Yes, thank you, Mossmoon. Silvermane said he was only a junior member when the Council of Thorns created the demiplane. Much has changed since,” she said. “I’m glad he thought we were worthy to carry the lantern. I’m sorry you are the last of the protectors, but I’m glad your wisdom remains. The union of orc and giant clans has become a serious threat to the region. We will honor your council kin by bringing their power to bear once more against foes of the land.”
Svarog was relieved that it hadn't come to blows with the wisp - after all, if they were to seek aid from these dead men, it wouldn't do to kill one of them... again? And not least, he had no way of striking such a creature.
When Mossmoon gave them the body of the wisp, Merriwind, he nodded and gave thanks in his own way. "We will use your gift to find the way to destroy evil and uphold the balance of these lands. Fare you well."
"If you should see Silvermane again, tell him I would speak with him. Farewell." The wisp vanishes.
Trianne squatted down at a respectful distance to see the spheres from another angle, eyeing them with an awe and wonder for a few moments before rising again.
“Yes, thank you, Mossmoon. Silvermane said he was only a junior member when the Council of Thorns created the demiplane. Much has changed since,” she said. “I’m glad he thought we were worthy to carry the lantern. I’m sorry you are the last of the protectors, but I’m glad your wisdom remains. The union of orc and giant clans has become a serious threat to the region. We will honor your council kin by bringing their power to bear once more against foes of the land.”
[dice=K: Dungeoneering]1d20+8
It would have been a long, drawn-out fight, with its high AC, and would probably have eaten up most of the rest of the year (not to mention a lot of your healing and bombs). Fortunately, the module includes provisions for talking.
The party returns to the dwarf's camping spot to rest, and the night passes moistly but uneventfully. Then, following Mossmoon's instructions, you place Merriwind's body into the lantern. It immediately begins to emit a beam of cold blue light, pointing north and slightly west.
Following the way it points takes the party through dense undergrowth and mud. After a messy and unpleasant hike, though, Jarrek trips over a bone that Haftor recognizes as the head of a dwarf's femur. It's been well-chewed, and cracked to suck out the marrow. Then Seamus hears something large moving up ahead.
[/spoiler]
Rested and back to his usual cheerful self, Svarog scowled as he examined the dwarf's bone. He nodded to the others, eyes already burning with vengeance; whatever was in here, they wouldn't be friends.
He readied an arrow and stalked forward as quietly as he could manage, the dwarf-friend ring gleaming on his hand.
The gnome pulls up short, hissing through his teeth, 'Ey, whatever chewed up that dwarf is right ahead... we should be careful and look slow at it. he withdraws a small flask from his belt, holding it loosely in his hands, watching to see what Svarog does.
Jarrek grunts and draws his falchion, looking at Svarog and Haftor to see what they want to do.
Trianne quickly reached into her backpack and unfurled an empty sack. She stepped up behind Jarrek, scooping up the lantern in the bag and drawing it loosely closed.
“Hold still,” she whispered as he drew his falchion. The tone was ragged enough that she clearly believed the most important thing was masking the glowing beacon that pointed directly to them. “Alright,” she finished, releasing him.
She then emitted a couple of clicks from her mouth, and Soot swooped down and landed on her forearm.
As the raven fluttered off, she said, “Soot’s having a look. Don’t know how long.”
The bird flits off, and returns after on a minute or two.
Haftor frowns at the grisly find, then decides to shoulder his crossbow and draw his hammer. In the dense undergrowth, he expects that they'll be up close and personal with whatever this beastie is sooner rather than later.
He whispers, "Yon beastie needs killing."
Jarrek nods at Trianne covering up the lanten and then at Haftor. "Sounds like it. I'm not a fan of anything that casually snacks on bones."
Jarrek figures that if it's a giant, it's most likely to be a marsh giant. It might also be an ogre, though. He'd have a better idea if he knew what color it was; marsh giants are green, while ogres run to shades of tan or brown.
“Unpleasantness to be sure,” Trianne echoed, having relayed Soot’s message. “With her size and that hook, she’ll have a long reach. Not to mention she may have a -- mate.” She grimaced at that and then paused, trying to decide best how to proceed.
“I’ve had some breakthroughs with my studies,” she said. “And I believe I can…accelerate us all for a short time, faster movement, faster reflexes, that sort of thing. I just wanted to alert you prior to the energies reaching out to you. Those I affect need to be relatively close together at the start, but then you can scatter, and the effects will only last for 6 or 8 deep breaths.”
“There should be no adverse effects,” she added. “But you’ll definitely feel it.”
Seamus nods, A'righty then, stick together then scatter... he nods as he gulps down his mutagen elixir.
Jarrek pursed his lips. "Did Soot say what color it is? That might help with the identification. Marsh giants are green, ogres more tan or brown."
Trianne looked to the raven still sitting on her forearm after having given his report. “Do you recall the color of this she hulk?” she asked in the common tongue.
Soot replies, "It was sort of mlap, I think."
Trianne quirked an eyebrow at Soot. Then she glanced at Jarrek and said, "I can never tell if he's joking or not, but he's always been a little off when it comes to colors."
"If it's a giant then we need to close in fast. I don't fancy a boulder bounced off my head. Jarrek and I move up front quick as we can, the rest of you wear it out with missiles. If Trianne can make Jarrek or me large, I think that would help. Easy peasie."
That's a'reseaoned approach - can ye sneak up there? the gnome reconsiders what he's saying as he looks at the Dwarf, ]Nae'er mind, you'll just have to close with it, and we do our thing from further back.
“Okay, give me a few moments then first,” Trianne said. She whispered arcane words, her fingers dancing in silent speech, pointing at each of them in succession. “We can whisper messages to each other over a short bow shot now.” She turned to Haftor and said, adding a smile, “My preference is to size you…and that hammer you’re carrying.” She waited for the dwarf to step away a bit and then brought the energies to bear that would increase his stature. “Only a few minutes of that, so let’s get moving.”
“Stay within ten to twenty feet of me until we’re seen,” she said. “Then I’ll accelerate us and you can break for her with all you’ve got.”
“Let me know if anything else comes our way,” she told Soot as she sent the raven skyward.
Jarrek nods. "Close in fast, chop it down." He grins, baring his teeth in a fierce grin. "Another giant will fall to our blades!"
The party trudges through the muck, eventually approaching a clearing. All can catch glimpses of a circle of monolithic, standing stones surrounding a central menhir covered in a layer of thick, thorny vegetation. In all, eight formations surround the central stone: five intact trilithons and another three that have crumbled and partially sunk into the swamp's soggy floor. A large pool gently bubbles to the northwest of the clearing--north of the party as they approach.
There is a large greenish giant in the stone circle.
Round 1:
Initiative order
Svarog
Seamus
Jarrek
Haftor
Giant
Trianne