Knowledge (History)
Knowledge (Nobility)
We are... well, thank you, Hermia replies. Ioana, was it? I am, er... was Hermia. Hermia Robin. I were a healer and... mother of sorts. My companion were an unfortunate victim of the man whom you just emulsified.
"Well I am from a land quite far away to the east called Tian. I was trained in karate and in the art of war under the tuitiledge of the Shogun. It wasn't until recently that I found your western religion. Some priest of Gorum was on what he called a mission and well it seems that this Gorum's ideas conform to my own in that war and battle are a thing to be revered."
Gan stands up and walks over to his saddlebags and removes a well worn leather book. As he does both Brett and Ry notice the tattoo on the back of his neck. Handing the book over to Ry.
"This belonged to my father. This contains the knowledge of the samurai and the art of war."
Ariarh holds the book in her hands and runs her hands over the well-worn leather, the feel of it reminding her a little of home.
"I don't believe I can read it in your mother tongue, Friend Gan. I have an ear for languages but I have never met someone from your land before I met you. Would you ... could you help me with reading it?"
Gan bows his head, "I shame myself for misunderstanding your motives. Your ideals are truly high my lady. I hope to help you realize that dream and provide you with such a place."
Gan says as he takes another sip of tea and grabs another sticky bun.
Gan bows his head, "I shame myself for misunderstanding your motives. Your ideals are truly high my lady. I hope to help you realize that dream and provide you with such a place."
Gan says as he takes another sip of tea and grabs another sticky bun.
"Indeed there is no shame. We are getting to know one another and sharing our ideas and ideals. I thank you for this opportunity, truly." Ariarh smiles over at the samurai and placing the book on her knees she takes a sip of the tea and a bite of the sticky bun. She carefully wipes her hands before touching the book, again. Ariarh would not see it destroyed/marked in any fashion.
Alaric decided not to partake in the tea and was busy identifying the masked man's items. He would first look at the ring and try to divine the nature and purpose behind the ring and then the sword. Once that is complete he will spy Master Puck reading diligently in the corner of the room with his mistress and approach him.
Master Puck? What is it you are reading?
Master Puck? What is it you are reading?
"Oh, I am reading the tome we found upon his person. I thought, since my lady were vocally fond of books, she would not mind me reciting a few passages to her."
Puck looks up from his meditation on his lady, and for a few moments blinks up at Alaric.
"Ah, hello there, sir. You came at a fortuitous period... of time," he looks towards the book. "I were preparing my gentle lady for... And recognized that her shift were torn. She often wrote upon her own journal and said to me that she liked not Kressle's kit, and here it lies in tatters, but..."
Puck mimes the mark of a sigil as he demonstrates for Alaric his lady's torn dress.
"It seemed to me the work of some villain," he says, and gives a kind of chuckle, his fascination with the signs lending him a dark humor. "I do not believe that if she is to be... that is to say, when she wakes, she may wish another form of attire. But! Since you are here, might you help me turn her over so that I can apply the same care to all of her?"
Knowledge (History) 1d20 + 7
Knowledge (Nobility) 1d20 + 7We are... well, thank you, Hermia replies. Ioana, was it? I am, er... was Hermia. Hermia Robin. I were a healer and... mother of sorts. My companion were an unfortunate victim of the man whom you just emulsified.
Knowledge Nobility: You think it is the clothing of a westerner, possibly Ustalavian... This is not surprising as her voice/accent have a simliar lilt that is possesed by the former man in black and Dasha.
Knowledge History: By the cut and make of the dress, you'd venture a guess this garb is very out of date... possibly 100 years old, or so...
Mother? What do you know of mothering... Mothering... Smothering... Sounds like, IS like... no difference there between the two; they ignore their kin, but what's to do? A mother orders you about, if you don't obey she swings her clout... Boo!"
Her expression has darkened at the mention the word "mother" and her words have trailed off in a sing-song fashion... giberish perhaps, or not...
She suddenly changes her ways, though, and leans in toward you, even as the other man leans away, still worried about her powers.
Mothers are just women who want to be gods... They know they aren't immortal, so they make babies say "That's a little copy of me, so even when I die, I live forever through HER" but then, if the baby grows to be a woman not like her own mother... then the mother is very NOT happy, and things become bad twixt mother and daughter... So then!... What kind of "mother" are you?
Before you can even answer she is suddenly moving about in a little circle, her hands flitting about... she would appear as if she were skipping but as she is floating, you don't know what is going on... The other man looks at you in shock.
Well, what are you going to say... Whatever it is... don't rile her, don't fancy being burned in this life or any life...he adds the last even as this girl spirit dances by, the side of her face angelic, then turns back, the other side a mass of scars and burns...
"Well I am from a land quite far away to the east called Tian. I was trained in karate and in the art of war under the tuitiledge of the Shogun. It wasn't until recently that I found your western religion. Some priest of Gorum was on what he called a mission and well it seems that this Gorum's ideas conform to my own in that war and battle are a thing to be revered."
Gan stands up and walks over to his saddlebags and removes a well worn leather book. As he does both Brett and Ry notice the tattoo on the back of his neck. Handing the book over to Ry.
"This belonged to my father. This contains the knowledge of the samurai and the art of war."
Ariarh holds the book in her hands and runs her hands over the well-worn leather, the feel of it reminding her a little of home.
"I don't believe I can read it in your mother tongue, Friend Gan. I have an ear for languages but I have never met someone from your land before I met you. Would you ... could you help me with reading it?"
Without a code-key or a "rosseta" stone, translating a text that uses pictograms into an alphabet is difficult, to say the least. What is your frame of reference for each individual character? Each symbol is its own word, and each word is different. You are able to recognize a reccurance of symbols however, (for example, I see 8 instances of this character, and 19 instances of THAT character). If he translates one or two characters you can start putting them into the book or coppying the text with those words alone... You sense a lengthy process; there is litteraly 1,000's of characters in his langauge, not all are in the book, though... it would take a long time to decipher, but he could help you.
I will toss those up soon, I need to double check the spells put on the weapon and the ring, though
Mothers are just women who want to be gods... They know they aren't immortal, so they make babies say "That's a little copy of me, so even when I die, I live forever through HER" but then, if the baby grows to be a woman not like her own mother... then the mother is very NOT happy, and things become bad twixt mother and daughter... So then!... What kind of "mother" are you?
I am not a physical mother, and my very own would oft tell me that I were not meant to be, Hermia replies, sensing the tension in this girl, and in some ways identifying with her perception of mothers as being smothering. And no, I do not have the prerequisite gall to consider myself a goddess. It were only ever my wish to provide my companions with any measure of comfort they might accept from me.
Smendor sleep very well during the night wrapped around those nice large pillows he got from the slave master. Smendor will rise early the next day before the sun, and work at the table for a time. He seems to be writing a letter.
The letter is writing in a more decretive dwarf script, and address to Morgan McGregor of house Garess.
Morggan,
I write this letter to you in order to update you on my progress here in the new land. The quest for stardom has proven itself to be a hard task indeed. My axe has found its home in more than a few foes.
The group which includes myself has claimed a good amount of land, but we have yet to really do much of anything with it. Most of the land is simply open fields that present nothing more than good crop land, but we have also found lumber and stone, and with time we will assuredly find much more.
There will be opportunity here in the land for those that want to make their mark in life. I should not ask for labor at this time, but if you have a small collection of loyal persons I can find jobs for them. If you do send anyone make sure they have food and gear to survive the winter.
When Semndor sees that Oleg is up and round Smendor will go speak to him. "Oleg I was wanting to ask you about my letter. Have you found anyone to take it on the long trip. I assume it was given to the one called Gideon when he left if no others have came past to carry it. I have two more letter that I would like sent out in the same way. I will also ask N'Var if he has the power to deliver such items. Also can I have a look at the merchant books. I have been out on the hunt for such a long time I have not had time to really give them a good check.
Smendor will than go to N'Var, "I see that the sun as found you working this morning. I find getting up early is a good start to any day. I have yet to really have a chance to speak with you. I am Smendor Iron-Face. I come from Brunderton which is a long way to the east of here. Smendor waits for the time of greeting to pass.
"To business than,"
"This man you are sending with use in hope to bring back to life; we will need his gear. Smendor stop speaking for a few second to think. Sorry what is the man’s name? Knowing what to call him will most certainly help if he ever opens his eyes again to this world.
He will not want to spend his days on the return with nothing, but his skin. We will also need one of your animals to take him with us. I will be over at the stable making ready please drop those items by so they can be packed correctly."
I also want to ask if you have a method of communication back with the lands to the north. I have a great desire to correspond with those of my kin and also those I have done business with in the past, but it seems the wind will not carry my messages to the north. If there comes a time you are sending such a messenger you will find two letters with the mark of my axe handle in the ownership of Oleg. I would be happy to pay for the service if the option presents itself.
Knowledge History:
Smendor will take a look at the breastplate Tessara Varial was using to identify if he can change it in a way that would allow him to use it. An item that could provide a good level of protection has been simply riding on a horse.
Smendor will also tell the other he is going to be using these other items that where on Tessara Varial horse when she left the group.
I see no reason to sell anything as I have already said so I will have these items with me while we travel. They could really come in handy. I do not own them I am simply taking items that could help.
Backpack, Masterwork (empty)
Flint and steel,
Grappling arrow
Rope, silk (50 ft.)
Mothers are just women who want to be gods... They know they aren't immortal, so they make babies say "That's a little copy of me, so even when I die, I live forever through HER" but then, if the baby grows to be a woman not like her own mother... then the mother is very NOT happy, and things become bad twixt mother and daughter... So then!... What kind of "mother" are you?
I am not a physical mother, and my very own would oft tell me that I were not meant to be, Hermia replies, sensing the tension in this girl, and in some ways identifying with her perception of mothers as being smothering. And no, I do not have the prerequisite gall to consider myself a goddess. It were only ever my wish to provide my companions with any measure of comfort they might accept from me.
You seem to recall "red shirt" was named "Geofery Hendrick".
Smendor sleep very well during the night wrapped around those nice large pillows he got from the slave master. Smendor will rise early the next day before the sun, and work at the table for a time. He seems to be writing a letter.
** spoiler omitted **
When Semndor sees that Oleg is up and round Smendor will go speak to him. "Oleg I was wanting to ask you about my letter. Have you found anyone to take it on the long trip. I assume it was given to the one called Gideon when he left if no others have came past to carry it. I have two more letter that I would like sent out in the same way. I will also ask N'Var if he has the power to deliver such items. Also can I have a look at the merchant books. I have been out on the hunt for such a long time I have not had time to really give...
The letters have not been delivered by Gideon; however, N'Var is currently dispatching an outrider to his master's lands with a full copy of the notes and documents that were found on the mysterious man in black. This outrider will take both letters with him, free of charge. If your men are beyond the realm of that area, you will need to buy services to deliver them. He recommends attaching to the letters the usual method of delivery in such services. That is, offer a reward to deliver the letters payable upon receiving them from whoever your family is. Essentially, think of it like a "collect call" for delivering the letters. No doubt your family will be so pleased to hear from you, they will generously pay the man when he delivers the letters (this is common practice, as it prevents the person from taking the coin and the letters and never delivering them).
That said, how much would you suggest your family will offer for good news from you? Remember, he can get it all the way into Southern Brevoy, from there, you need to come up with a plan.
Regarding the man's gear, he had studded leather, a bow, 20 arrows, a dagger, a short sword, a short spear and a medium shield. The typical armor that the others are wearing for duty on the walls. The heavier outriders have different garb, but that is what Geofery is wearing.
Smendor will take a look at the breastplate Tessara Varial was using to identify if he can change it in a way that would allow him to use it. An item that could provide a good level of protection has been simply riding on a horse.
Smendor will also tell the other he is going to be using these other items that where on Tessara Varial horse when she left the group.
I see no reason to sell anything as I have already said so I will have these items with me while we travel. They could really come in handy. I do not own them I am simply taking items that could help.
Backpack, Masterwork (empty)
Flint and steel,
Grappling arrow
Rope, silk (50 ft.)
Your plan to carry them seems reasonable to Brett. In fact, more then reasonable. Since you volunteered to do the leg-work of hauling this stuff around, he will offer to fix you a fine breakfest in the morning. And he does!
Mothers are just women who want to be gods... They know they aren't immortal, so they make babies say "That's a little copy of me, so even when I die, I live forever through HER" but then, if the baby grows to be a woman not like her own mother... then the mother is very NOT happy, and things become bad twixt mother and daughter... So then!... What kind of "mother" are you?
I am not a physical mother, and my very own would oft tell me that I were not meant to be, Hermia replies, sensing the tension in this girl, and in some ways identifying with her perception of mothers as being smothering. And no, I do not have the prerequisite gall to consider myself a goddess. It were only ever my wish to provide my companions with any measure of comfort they might accept from me.
I see through you... I see through you... Yes! You claim to be a mother because you want to take care of people, but you don't really believe you are doing a very good job... You feel you could be doing sooo much better to help people, and the more you feel it, the more you try, but you can't quite get there... Not at all... you will always want to help people, but never do the job you are trying to, and hate yourself in the morning... So clear, so clear... Level of comfort? As if their opinion mattered... A true mother would do her job and not fret about how well recieved she was... she is not in the business of being nice, but in the business of taking care of her children...
The girl spins about again, and the missing parts of her face where the burns eroded her cheeks are hideous... Yet she spins around again, and now it seems completely healed, as if there were nothing wrong. Suddenly, her appearence and attitude and in full reverse; she is behaving in a manner cool, quite, and contrite. She looks down demurely under long lashes, and gives you a shy smile.
It was incorrect of me to be as I was just now. I am prone to such deviant behaviour and dalliances in the fickle world of foolishness. I am only a child, though, and shall not ammount to much if I do not grow up and show propper respect and maturity... Apologies good lady she says with a practiced, and very regal, curtsey.
Hermia accepts the girl's courtesy with a bow of her own, or, how pretty she can sketch one from the many descriptions she has read of the act in her novels.
You seem to me none but fair and obliging, lady, Hermia hazards. Your words do not fall upon deaf ears. I have yet to meet an individual, least of all myself, who cannot benefit from hearing and understanding the opinion of others she demures politely.
If I might, milady, how is it that you came to mine and young Master Hendrick's aide?
Hermia accepts the girl's courtesy with a bow of her own, or, how pretty she can sketch one from the many descriptions she has read of the act in her novels.
You seem to me none but fair and obliging, lady, Hermia hazards. Your words do not fall upon deaf ears. I have yet to meet an individual, least of all myself, who cannot benefit from hearing and understanding the opinion of others she demures politely.
If I might, milady, how is it that you came to mine and young Master Hendrick's aide?
You are quite full of yourself to think I came to your aid, goodwyfe! What? Are there other tasks and mysteries in the realms of men that do not eclipse thy thinking? Do all things bend to thy own needs and necessities... Shall I be more plain, or did thy not perceive my wit as clear as that I speak it? Come to thy aid; Faugh! I have other things to do... Say rather, if thou would, that I was repaying he with vengence for his actions... Bleah! she adds the last words with sticking her tongue out of her mouth. She speaks well, but seems to be acting more like a three year old rather then a girl of nine...
But suddenly the cool manner in which she behaved before returns.
Thank you for your words, naturaly I was OH so happy to aid you... she adds. You are struck by the oddity of her speech, on moment she sounds and speaks like someone from many ages ago, the next minute her accent is colored by more modern phrases and colloquilisms.
The man named Geof Hendrick says nothing by, merely hovers in quiet solititude... His bonds to this plane seem weaker then yours, and his will is not so strong that he would not rather slip into the great void of whatever the next journey may bring him.
Hermia is not certain what troubles the spirit that seems to shift so violently before her, in mannerisms and in speech, but she is aware that she is holding the young man, Geofry from the natural order of things. The soul was not meant to be bound to flesh it no longer inhabits, and neither then should...
Soft, milady, how is it that you remain upon this realm? If your will was vengeance against the one whom attacked us even here... Hermia's mind spins with the possibilities. How is it that you and I remain when young Master Hendrick has none but the desire to continue to his place of rest?
If Hermia could, she would reach for the young master, but, as they are not proper flesh but souls, she has not an idea how the embrace would affect them in this form. She does know, however, that she would much rather not be left alone with this child's spirit. As the girl who identified herself as Ioana correctly surmised, Hermia has always been more than a little cowardly.
Hermia is not certain what troubles the spirit that seems to shift so violently before her, in mannerisms and in speech, but she is aware that she is holding the young man, Geofry from the natural order of things. The soul was not meant to be bound to flesh it no longer inhabits, and neither then should...
Soft, milady, how is it that you remain upon this realm? If your will was vengeance against the one whom attacked us even here... Hermia's mind spins with the possibilities. How is it that you and I remain when young Master Hendrick has none but the desire to continue to his place of rest?
If Hermia could, she would reach for the young master, but, as they are not proper flesh but souls, she has not an idea how the embrace would affect them in this form. She does know, however, that she would much rather not be left alone with this child's spirit. As the girl who identified herself as Ioana correctly surmised, Hermia has always been more than a little cowardly.
Swagger it, swagger it, my little cock-a-whoop... thy, who thinks the world shines on thy shoulders and sets on thy bossom? Bend thy will hither and let wisdom guide thee, rather then simple guessing at answers that thee already knoweth the meaning of... As for me? I am bound by a high and lonely destiny, far beyond thy wit of comprehension she adds the last with a turn of her head and look of sorrow, though it is far more pronounced and deliberate then you would presume need be.
Agan the sudden change.
Pardon... but it is as I have said; this one is weak of will... ALL who pass on hear the call to the final realm, but some do not rush with ease to answer, even as he does... If he, like you, had strengthened his will to greater purposes, then it is possible he would have done better against the call of the great beyond... But no matter; he will not leave us yet, but is slowly slipping away into empitness... in short order his spirit will be gone... and then you will also be gone, in the next realm, or broken like mist on a fine spring monring... Only time shall tell for either of you. But for me? I have other business... and I do not sleep so easily...
Puck sets himself up on the litter or the cart, whatever it is that is pulling the body of his mistress, and will spend the day of travel, minus any obligation to the group, studying the text and attempting to decipher the code.
Puck sets himself up on the litter or the cart, whatever it is that is pulling the body of his mistress, and will spend the day of travel, minus any obligation to the group, studying the text and attempting to decipher the code.
That begs a good question - There is only one cart that belongs to Oleg... and you have no litter. In either case, both a litter or a cart will slow you down, due to the fact that muddy ground is not suited for such terrain.
Yes, it is more dignified means of travel then being slung of a horse like a sack of potatoes, but if you being dragged by a litter or cart it will slow you down.
What, then, is the groups choice on that matter?
I vote we wait on Ariarh to weigh in with her expertise with the capabilities of horses considering the terrain and the destination, but I suppose lashing Hermia to her mount, and Master Hendrick to his and having them tied off to pack animals or the like seems like the most rational choice. Was it the group's consensus to accept the offer of bringing along a detachment of N'Var's outriders to assist as well?
Ariarh thinks over the situation of transporting Hermia and the solider.
"If we only had to worry about open plains and we were not under a time constraint, a litter or cart would be best and most respectful mode of transporting our fallen comrades. Since we have neither at our immediate disposal (Oleg may require his cart), we should consider moving the bodies on horseback as we will be traversing forests and rivers along our journey to the Temple of the Elk."
"But, I suggest we carefully wrap the bodies (individually) in canvas. It aids in ease of carrying and transport and also provides protection from the elements and any carrion birds which we may come across. The pace that we ride will not always be slow/steady. Thus, we should securely strap each body to the saddle/horse, especially over the top of the bodies to keep them from bouncing out/off while the horse is cantering or galloping especially over uneven or rough terrain. Even though we have the bodies slung over the saddle/horse, they will be carefully wrapped, secured and therefore still presenting Hermia and the soldier with a level of respect, under the current circumstances."
I vote we wait on Ariarh to weigh in with her expertise with the capabilities of horses considering the terrain and the destination, but I suppose lashing Hermia to her mount, and Master Hendrick to his and having them tied off to pack animals or the like seems like the most rational choice. Was it the group's consensus to accept the offer of bringing along a detachment of N'Var's outriders to assist as well?
Brett will magnanimously agree on the group's behalf to bring the outriders. The sky if fairly overcast that day, and the party sets out.
The outriders are have bedrolls and modest gear on their mounts; it is consistent with what a cowboy might be carrying. A fifth horse between the four of them has sacks of foodstuffs and a foor-man tent.
Each of these outriders is one of the regular outriders. They are armed and armored a little differently then Geof.
They wear scale mail, medium sheilds, heavy spears, long bows at their backs, long swords at their sides. They carry a lariat, bedroll, the saddle and gear, misc. camp gear (flint and steel, waterskin, blankets, etc.) and seem fairly capable with their mounts.
They act as a unit and formation. Currently, if no one has said anything contrary to the point, they are following your lead.
Brett turns to you all and speaks out something on his mind.
"You realize, of course, if his map be accurate, it would save us a piece in exploring. Why, I shouldn't doubt that we'd be gaining everything on the map when and if we bring's it back to master Oleg."
This point is punctuated well. If Brett IS right, then you guys have just formally "mapped and explored" several new hexes. It will take a cursory ride through the terrain (read 5 hours of travel time) instead of the usual 12 hours, which is going to help you a lot.
I think that is an excellent suggestion Ry. I must meditate as well to regain my mental focus for the day ahead. I am still of a mind to go through the fey circle as we may be able to attain some good will from Erastil as he has a close connection to the fey. If we treat them well we may be able to help with the resurrection at the temple. I have prepared several items of note with which to help ease our way through. I have bought several bottles of wine from Oleg and sweets like honey rolls and candy and such as I know fey are fond of such things. It will not take much time and may help in more ways than one.
I think that is an excellent suggestion Ry. I must meditate as well to regain my mental focus for the day ahead. I am still of a mind to go through the fey circle as we may be able to attain some good will from Erastil as he has a close connection to the fey. If we treat them well we may be able to help with the resurrection at the temple. I have prepared several items of note with which to help ease our way through. I have bought several bottles of wine from Oleg and sweets like honey rolls and candy and such as I know fey are fond of such things. It will not take much time and may help in more ways than one.
Brett can make that happen, via the sweets and wine, while you and spend the morning in meditation on your spells. By the time you are done, the rest of us will have loaded the horses and gear, and got your stuff together; any spellcaster who refresh at dawn and needs to do this can simply mount up.
The time is now 7:00 AM... between eating, praying and meditating, and packing, you woke at 5:45 or so, and have been at work.
Though it seems like it has been forever and a day, since your arrival back at the camp and deaing with the masked man (that was the 17th) today is only the morning of the 19th.
You therefore gather your horses, tack them from the gate toward the south west and set out.
The first "hex" is open plains. To travel over will be relatively quick, and should take you no more then about 4 hours (not counting the hours at Oleg's to get over his lands). You are just reaching the tall forests on the outskirts of the Fey Folk at around 11:30 AM. Brett recommends topping here to eat lunch, rather then enter instantly, as to make food in the woods with a fire will be (in his words) "Risky, if I may be so bold... fire under them trees spook the whole business."
He recommends making a fire outside the forest, cooking your lunch, and then moving into the trees. If he is correct, then you should be moving through the forest no later then noon, and the journey through them (barring any mishap) shouldn't take you longer then 5 hours... though, recalling last time, it may take longer. But then again...
The outriders like this plan as well, and unless anyone objects they will kindle a quick fire, cook their food, and get ready to ride in. They are not riding hard, just pushing themselves at a good pace.
You should enter the Fey Woods then, at noon... well rested and fed. Alaric, you seem to have some sort of plan in the Fey woods... what is your plan specifically, and your direction? Where do you intend to go, and when you get there, what do you intend to do?
With some assistance, Puck rides atop his mistress's mount. He uses Prestidigitation on his shrouded mistress to mask the smell of rot in an effort to keep bugs and such at bay, not wishing for her to become as the villain that slew her. As best he can, he secures the text between his typical place on the pommel and the horse's neck so that he can read while the party travels. He appears only vaguely interested in returning to the Fey circle, being absorbed in his studies.
Once we are in the Fey woods I will stop and speak in sylvan that we are transporting two companions that have passed away to the Temple of the Elk in order to beseech the gods to spare their lives. I will immediately start leaving the gifts and continuing stopping every so often to leave another gift, be it a sweet or cup of wine and so on, hoping to earn their respect and see if they may come into the open. Every time I leave something I will say out in Sylvan Sweet waters and much laughter for you and yours! Thank you for allowing us to pass through your realm. before bowing and continuing on.
Once we are in the Fey woods I will stop and speak in sylvan that we are transporting two companions that have passed away to the Temple of the Elk in order to beseech the gods to spare their lives. I will immediately start leaving the gifts and continuing stopping every so often to leave another gift, be it a sweet or cup of wine and so on, hoping to earn their respect and see if they may come into the open. Every time I leave something I will say out in Sylvan Sweet waters and much laughter for you and yours! Thank you for allowing us to pass through your realm. before bowing and continuing on.
Looking for more specifics... Like, how often do you do this, and how many times do you do this... and WHERE do you decide to do this... Is it random, or do you intend to try doing it at the place where you bumped into the "chess game" and "tea party" before? Or are you trying to avoid that?
I am trying to figure out, at the least, how long it takes you to go through the woods. And I am also trying to figure out if they notice you, and when...
I was going to start where they we met them before or at least where we met their magics. I brought three bottles of wine and I figure I can call it 4 large cups from each bottle. So that is 12 total gifts for them in wine. I am not sure how many pastries Svetlana was able to give me but I will spread those out accordingly. I am hoping that once they find one they will find the rest and since I am calling out to them at every stop, which I am only taking so long to dismount place the gift and say the words and continuing on, it will maybe take me a minute or two each time at the absolute most.
I was going to start where they we met them before or at least where we met their magics. I brought three bottles of wine and I figure I can call it 4 large cups from each bottle. So that is 12 total gifts for them in wine. I am not sure how many pastries Svetlana was able to give me but I will spread those out accordingly. I am hoping that once they find one they will find the rest and since I am calling out to them at every stop, which I am only taking so long to dismount place the gift and say the words and continuing on, it will maybe take me a minute or two each time at the absolute most.
You will reach the area that you were at before at roughly 2 PM.
However, even as you ride through the forest there is a grimness about you, a sense of foreboding not like what you felt before. This time it is darker, not like a warning, or a method to scare away unwanted guests, but as if something is blighting their land, as if the very essence of the land is hurting for some reason.
The trees often seem to have strange appearences, as if they have faces on them, from time to time, and are wrapped in mist... but it is not wholesome... it feels foul.
When you place the items at the base of the tree you don't feel a threat, you feel a tenseness... like an enclosing sense of danger and doom, but by good fortune alone you are spared whatever may reach out do you harm. The trees are almost bristling, as if it was before a storm, and the sunlight is very dim... far too dim in a forest at 2 PM. You feel it to be dark and threatening, but you see nothing there...
You may attempt a Knowledge check to clearify, but I leave it to you to decide what knowledge check.
You sense the only help you are currently gaining is not being attacked by Fey magic, though... beyond that? You don't know. And you don't know or udnerstand the cause of it...
You are all feeling the sense of unease... including the horses, which seem skittish and only under your good graces have they not fled... they are sweating and edgy, even as the riders are... All of them are taking Alaric's word that things will be just fine, as long as he offers the gifts, but for now, you feel a growing sense of unease and tension...
Alaric alone seems lucid enough to be not overwhelmed by fear or unease, and his words have a calming effect on the group. You aren't sure if this is due to the gifts he is giving, or if it is due to his herritage... but in either case, under his persuasion you are able to move on...
Until...
Once morning comes Gan walks just outside the fort and begins to practice his forms with both sword and empty hands. After that he kneels down and begins to meditate and will do so for one hour.
Gan then walks back into the fort and seeks out his new found friends greeting them with a deep bow.
"I have thought about it Mistress Ry. If you should desire it I will endevour to teach you the symbals of my home tongue."
Then thinking for a moment, "Has the man's gear been effectively decifered?"[/b]
Puck's rapid fire knowledge checks -
Knowledge (Arcana)
Knowledge (Nature)
and since we're carrying dead weight about, literally,
Knowledge (Religion)
edit:
Once morning comes Gan walks just outside the fort and begins to practice his forms with both sword and empty hands. After that he kneels down and begins to meditate and will do so for one hour.
Gan then walks back into the fort and seeks out his new found friends greeting them with a deep bow.
"I have thought about it Mistress Ry. If you should desire it I will endevour to teach you the symbals of my home tongue."
Then thinking for a moment, "Has the man's gear been effectively decifered?"[/b]
"You think a poem from my homeland would help? Gan asks out loud to the group.
Knowledge Nature
Knowledge Arcana
Gan: I don't think it would hurt. Do you know one suitable?
Knowledge Nature:
To Gan:
"Hermia once sang to the Fey in this place. I cannot think why a poem would hurt."
Puck's rapid fire knowledge checks -
Knowledge (Arcana) 1d20 + 3
Knowledge (Nature) 1d20 + 3and since we're carrying dead weight about, literally,
Knowledge (Religion) 1d20 + 3
edit:
Whatever you're sensing or feeling is NOT natural... their is magic afoot... bad magic, and not the kind of illusion and so forth. You don't understand it, for you've been moving to the same place on the map that is consistent with where the dancing gnomes and other Fey Folk had their tea pary and chess game. Even with the gifts, you're positive you should be in the right place... Utterly certain in fact, according to the map.
Indeed; your positions correct, except... no Tea Party!
You sense a feeling of darkness around you... more then that you cannot say... but the feeling is EXTREMELY powerful... as is not uncommon in Fey Area's...
Perform: Haiku
"We come here today
To help a fallen commrads
We ask for your help."
Knowledge all:
Perform: Haiku
1d20+7
"We come here today
To help a fallen commrads
We ask for your help."
Knowledge all: 1d20+3
Actually, if you don't have a rank in Knowledge, I think it is just a Intellegence check, via the bard, which should be a +2, if I am not mistaken.
Also, you can't make a "blanket roll" like that for ALL knowledge skills. Because you may have 1 rank in one skill, and it is a class skill, and then you would have it at something different.
So you cannot use the skill like that for all of them at once. Unless you have no ranks in anything at all. In which case you would have only a +2 for Intellegence... unless you have an additional +1 bonus somewhere else I don't know about...
Oddly, your spell seems to "fail"... but don't worry, I will adress that in a moment...
As a bard Bardic Knowledge adds my bard level to all knowledge checks. So they would all be +2 from Int and +1 from Bardic Knowledge.
Knowledge Arcana:
Knowledge Nature:
Knowledge Geography:
Knowledge Nature:
Knowledge Religion:
Knowledge Planes:
As a bard Bardic Knowledge adds my bard level to all knowledge checks. So they would all be +2 from Int and +1 from Bardic Knowledge.
Knowledge Arcana: 1d20+3
Knowledge Nature: 1d20+3
Knowledge Geography: 1d20+3
Knowledge Nature: 1d20+3
Knowledge Religion: 1d20+3
Knowledge Planes:1d20+3
Excellent... Thanks for the clearification, I wondered about that. The following post should answer this question...
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Your party moves forward, and as they come over a large hill they see a clearing. At the base of the clearing you see that there is a large tree. You think it is a willow tree, for its heavy branches and drooping mosses look odd and ancient. But if so, it is perhaps the oldest tree you’ve seen, and far more ancient then anything in the woods thus far.
The bark of the tree is gray, almost ashy, and the roots are massive, each of them the size of a barrel, and stretching far about the tree. You hear small groans and creaking from the tree, as if is blowing in the wind. You sense no sorrow from the tree, no mournful feeling, no sense of anything at all. The fog has stopped at the base of the tree and long around it, and peering through the mossy covered branches you can see twisted metal chains dangling from the tree. Inside the cages you think you see white bones…
The cages spin and rotate, swirling softly in the wind. Other the creaking and groaning of the branches is the sound of the hissing sigh of the wind through the mossy leaves.
It seems extremely still… desperately still. And your horse have stopped their moving altogether. You stand there watching this tree, the twisted branches bearing iron chains in which bleached bone lay in, and you feel a great tension. The tree itself is massive, standing nearly forty feet, but it is bent over by its huge size… The trunk alone seems to be about thirty feet around, and as you try to take it all in you are suddenly startled.
Craw!
The sound is startling. There, perched on branch, hopping quickly toward you, is a large crow. It stands nearly two feet in height, and stares at you with jet eyes which seem to devour you all greedily; though it does nothing but stare.
Craw! Craw! it calls out again.
You seem rooted to the spot, and would move to do something, anything… but yet you cannot move.
Suddenly, it seems as if the creature speaks.
“There ye stand in woodland glade,
and look ye on with terror laid,
on caged bones and fleshless eyes
that stare at ye while Willow sighs.”
You say nothing, but look toward each other, as the crow hops up on the branch and watches you coldly.
“And now good folk, ye stare at me,
While I rest here on withered tree?
Stare instead at boney feet
I seek your flesh; a sweeter meat.”
The tension is growing. You feel a sense of urgency driving you on; you want to run, to hide, or to flee… but you cannot move, only watch as the creature hops to another tree branch, the giant crow moving closer to you.
“A feast, a feast for me;
your house an iron misery.
But when I pick your flesh from bone,
you’ll find my belly your new home.”
.
You each struggle against this dark compulsion to move forward and climb into the cages dangling from the branches… To push the bones out and sit there, replacing their carcasses with your own. To close the bars behind you and simply let yourself be consumed by what fate may offer for you. All you need to do is climb into one of the cages, and then let whatever comes for you take you.
The crow lets out another Craw! and hops forward, his hideous head bobbing slowly as he stares into your eyes. The horses are immobile, and you have a sense of desperation; as if you should run away, or obey this beast. Even Puck, the brownie of the Fey folk seems trapped by this menace, and Alaric opens his mouth to speak, yet cannot get the words from his lips… His tongue is cleft to his mouth, and you are all helpless as the crow moves its massive body to your horses in awkward, ever-advancing hoping jumps.
Your failure to move prompts the foul bird to sing again his words, as if he is driving you harder and forcing you to move. The repeating words are like a command, and you must obey...
“A feast, a feast for me;
your house an iron misery.
But when I pick your flesh from bone,
you’ll find my belly your new home.”
With that line sung you feel yourself move without will, without order, and step forward as if you are unable to control yourself. You are aware of each other, as you advance the crow cackling evilly, and you know that as you reach the bars of the cage, you will lift the latch, and enter a living tomb, to be bound for all eternity until your flesh is consumed from your bones and the crow is feasted on your remains. Then, when he is full, you will be dumped beneath the earth into the dust and replaced by another traveler.
You move forward, and start to stumble for the iron cages, the sight of the grinning skeletons inside shrieking from their grinning skulls and echoing madly in your mind. The roots of the Willow tree have stretched forward hungrily like gray writhing snakes searching for you, to entangle you, to pull you toward it, to ensnare you and possibly drag you into the very depths of the earth beneath.
As you look toward each other, panic ensuing and fear rising in you, the crow is urging you forward. You are walking forward. You can’t stop yourself, you cannot even override the compulsion with the very force of your Willpower… You feel the panic in you coming stronger and stronger, but then are startled and much relieved by a sound coming from behind you. A stranger is striding through the woods and speaks to the crow in a strong powerful voice.
“Away, away, ye evil beast!
These goodly folk are not your feast.
On other flesh ye’ll make a meal,
but leave them now or YOUR life I’ll steal!
And as for ye, old twisted Willow,
pull back your roots else bark I’ll sliver!”
The Crow turned in rage, but Its beady eyes widened in panic. It let out a croak of anger and horror and fled away into the sky at the comming of this man. The Willow moved its roots away in bitter disgust at the sound of the words.
From the black trees a tall figure strode. A gray cloak hung from his broad shoulders and grey eyes he had, and his countenance was darkened by many troubles and his face was stern as the stars. A long bow and a case holding many long arrows hung from his shoulders, and the feathers were white.
You move quickly toward him and he directs you back up the hill, and you follow his directions quickly, like little children obeying the commands of a gentle father. As you rush to the top of the hill and turn you see the man moving before you. His face is ageless, and he regards you silently.
Okay, now you are free to ask any questions... But keep it in character, and ask the guy in front of you. He is staring at you even now, though saying nothing, as if waitng for you to speak first.