Skalla shakes her head. "I cannot hide the camp, only the traces of our passing. Why don't we all move out, though? We have a party scouting ahead and the rest coming up behind, with a few guarding the rear. Going scouting, returning here and retracing our steps - that just seems an inefficient use of time."
Aubrin nods. "I agree. Jet and I will get our people up and moving after you leave to scout ahead. Just lay down some kind of marker for us to follow. Taidel and Lirosa will be our rear-guard to cover our tracks as best as they can for a group of over thirty people."
---
The scouting party leaves shortly after the decision to head east for the caverns is made, with the band of refugees tailing slowly behind.
The southern Chernosardo represents the outskirts of the Fangwood, but even here, the trees are ancient, soaring to hundreds of feet in height. The sun emerges rarely through the thick canopy above, leaving the forest floor in a near-perpetual state of twilight. Despite this, the woods are alive with the sound of birds, squirrels, and other wildlife. The way forward is beautiful, but difficult, with rough undergrowth and switchbacks making for slow going.
Eventually, in the early afternoon, the scouting party encounters an oddity amid the sprawling wilderness: a rough cabin. Trees and brambles grow close here, surrounding a forward facing wall built from moss-coated stone. The rest of the dwelling seems to be built into the side of a low mound. Smoke billows from a chimney poking out from the loamy roof, and light glows from one hazy window.
Dalvin stays quiet through the talk of having a leader. He agreed with Nisa that a faster decision making process may become necessary. But for now, the group was in agreement. To the caverns, and the Rangers.
As the party forges a trail through the Cernosardo, Dalvin retrieves some of the material he had packed away to sell in Phaendar and occasionally ties them to a tree, creating a hopefully clear path for the others to follow.
Dalvin places a small hand on Drako as the cabin comes into view. "Wonder who lived here," he observes, noticing the disrepair and encroaching trees before seeing the light and the smoke.
"Oh."
The Elf accompanies the group with his calm yet fast steps. His trained eyes spotted the cabin from afar; they quickly started moving with curiosity, trying to assess all details he probably could absorb.
Skalla hands Lirosa a pouch of dust before taking her place with the scouting party. "Sprinkle this after the last of you has passed, it will help conceal our tracks."
As they come upon the hut in the forest, she approaches with curiosity and a mix of nostalgia and anxiety. After all, it was in a hut such as this that she had spent a great part of her childhood, and while most memories of that were pleasant, the way it had ended was... not.
Rolar slows as the others begin to notice the cabin. His shift from a relaxing stroll to a combat posture is done with a fluid grace found only in seasoned warriors.
Acutely aware of the closeness of the trees and brambles he quietly frees Heart Rend from his belt and swings his shield into his hand.
Seeing the others fixated on the cabin, Rolar instead turns his attention to the ground and surrounding area looking for any identifying tracks or features that may help indicate who, or what, may live here.
Rayne eyes the cabin. "It almost looks homey," she remarks, cautiously studying the area around them. "I suppose if we wanted to, we could just knock on the door. Or..."
Crouching low, Rayne skirts around the exterior of the house and approaches the window from the side, rising slightly to peek inside.
Rayne peeks through the window, although it is difficult to see through the grimy glass. She can hear a feminine voice though, creaky with age. Although it's difficult to understand what the woman is saying, it sounds like she's arguing with a second, unheard person.
Skalla looks at the others before striding up to the door and knocking.
"Hello? Anyone home? We are travelers who mean you no harm."
She tries to make her voice soft and inviting. Someone who chooses to live in a secluded place in the forest is likely not fond of company, so there's no need to spook them.
Dalvin stands to the back, keeping a small hand on Drako while feeling for his bow with the other. Satisfied that he'll have no problem drawing it if the occupant of the hut is looking for a fight, he leaves it be and waits anxiously as Skalla knocks on the door.
"Notice anything?" he asks Rolar, seeing the dwarf's attention has turned to the ground.
The voice inside the hut falls silent for a moment before responding to Skalla. "I want nothing to do with the likes of you. Leave me alone and get you gone."
"Notice anything?" he asks Rolar, seeing the dwarf's attention has turned to the ground.
Rolar squats down close to the ground and studies the ground closely; his eyes intent on every leaf, twig, and loose patch of dirt. After several moments he stands back up and responds "Aye, someone be liven here. Tracks are fresh and belong to a single..." Rolar is abruptly cut off by a voice from inside the hut. Without a moment's hesitation, he rushes up toward the hut and takes position next to the door, back against the wall.
Once in place Rolar makes eye contact with Skalla. "I'll leave the sweet talking to yerself, won't end well if I start running me mouth. Ole Heart Rend here'll take over the talking if it comes to it." he says with a wink.
Skalla sighs and shakes her head. "As you wish. I can understand the need for privacy, the desire for solitude. But know that these woods are unsafe, now more than ever. The Ironfang stalk them, and they have no mercy. Please, do not throw your life away."
For a moment, no reply comes, but then the door swings open. Standing there is an old woman dressed in a grey robe and clutching a gnarled staff. Her hair matches the color of her clothes, strung into matted strands laced with colorful beads, beaten gold hoops, and animal bones. Despite her age, she stands quite tall and regards the group with alert, suspicious eyes.
"The hobgoblins? Yes... I have seen them, but they have not seen me. My home has protections against the likes of them." She raises an eyebrow. "What can I do for you? Be quick about it, I did not choose to live in a forest so I could suffer the questions of strangers."
"You've seen the Ironfang?" Rayne asks. "How recently? Can you tell us anything about them? Where they were headed, if you heard anything from them..."
She hadn't expected the woman to be so unconcerned about the marauding hobgoblins, and perhaps her assurance was well-founded, but still...
"Would you like to come with us? There is strength in numbers. We can help protect you, and I'm sure we could use your skills to hide from the Ironfang. I do not think that your house will be a safe haven for much longer."
Dalvin scans the forest around them as the others talk to the old woman, keeping an eye out for any signs of the Ironfang or any other threat that may be approaching them.
"We found your house, completely by accident," Dalvin adds, hoping to help convince the woman. "The Ironfang is fast and efficient, it won't be long before they do too. We can help each other."
Rolar steps away from the house and looks at the old woman with a hard stare.
"Aye, Dalvin be right ya know. Ye may have been seeing some of the advance scouts, but ye be a foolin yerself if yer thinking that yer spells will save ye when the might of the entire legion descends on yer home."
The robed woman waves away the party's concerns with a wrinkled hand. "Not here, exactly, but I have seen them. They linger still by Phaendar, building a rope bridge, I think."
She looks down her nose at Rolar. "And what do you know of my magic, dwarf? You found my home because the spells it weaved knew your intentions were not violent. I don't suspect the Ironfang will pass the same test." She casts her gaze back at the party. "If there will be nothing else, I have things to do."
Rayne smirks derisively at the woman. "I hope this isn't how you treat every refugee who offers you their help," she says. "Now, is there anything of note you can tell us about the area? The faster you help us, the faster we'll be out of your hair." She gives her a wink and waits for her response.
The woman fixes Rayne with reproaching stare. "Only the ones that demand my help without so much as asking my name, dear."
ponders for a moment. "If you're looking for misanthropes to save, try southwest. A hunter lives there, a half-elf named Keloch. If you think I'm personable, wait until you meet him." She smiles thinly. "In any event, I haven't seen him in months. Might be he's moved on, might be he's dead. Worst case, you've found shelter for the night." She concludes, shrugging.
"We're at war here. There isn't always time for pleasantries, but..." Rayne sighs and nods her head at the woman in concession. "I apologize all the same, Miss...?"
Dalvin sulks at the old woman's multiple rebukes. They needed as much help as they could get, and if every attempt at recruitment went this way, they wouldn't get anywhere.
She has a point, though. We never even bothered to ask her for her name. And we made a lot of assumptions. We need to do better next time if we're going to get people's help.
The gnome idly scratches behind Drako's ear, waiting for the woman's response before daring to say anything else to her.
Skalla sighs as the old woman rebukes both their offer for help and their clumsy manners. She wishes that pride and stubbornness wouldn't keep the woman from making what in Skalla's view was the right choice, but... she seemed set on staying here and trusting in her magic to hide her from the hobgoblins. Skalla hopes that trust is not misplaced.
"You are right, under the strain of the circumstances, we forgot our manners. Please forgive us. And if there is anything that we can do for you, just say the word."
She turns to look to gaze towards southwest, where the woman has indicated that another hermit might be found. "We shall try and find this Keloch. And I pray to the Eternal Rose that the Ironfang will not find you."
"Veld," she replies to Rayne. "And I am no miss. Veld will suffice."
"I don't need anybody's help, outside of chopping wood. My back can't take it anymore. If you've got the time and the inclination, I could reward you for the work." Veld smirks. "Although if you believe the Ironfang to be breathing down your necks, I doubt you'll want to linger."
She looks down her nose at Rolar. "And what do you know of my magic, dwarf? You found my home because the spells it weaved knew your intentions were not violent. I don't suspect the Ironfang will pass the same test."
Rolar waits and listens as Veld continues the conversation with the rest of the party. "Why do these bloody magic users always have to be so cocky" he thinks to himself.
Frustrated with the lack of progress he finally speaks up again. "This forest be yer home and the good people of Phaendar be yer neighbors. The Ironfang will cut and burn every tree within a hundred leagues of here and poison the soil with their vileness. If yer magic can hide ye from that then ye may be able to help hide the refugees. We be heading east to scout out some caverns to the east of here. If we can safely get the refugees in place can yer magic help hide them from the Ironfang?".
Looking around the grounds for a wood pile Rolar hefts his mighty axe and holds the head out toward Veld. "Ole Heart Rend here be good fer more then choppin the heads off of hobgoblins. If ye be helping us, then Heart Rend be helping you.". He walks over to a nearby log, stands it on end, and with a mighty blow brings the axe down and splits in clean in two. "What say ye friend?" and with a wink he tosses the two pieces next to the open door.
They didn't have much time to waste, but perhaps a show of goodwill would warm Veld towards them. Shrugging off her pack, Skalla steps next to the dwarf and picks up the wood axe. She is soon splitting logs, falling into a rhythm with Rolar and tossing the wood in a tidy pile.
Once she judges that there is now enough firewood to last Veld a few weeks, she straightens up, wiping the sweat off her brow. "Veld, if you change your mind, we'll be travelling east. Come find us."
Veld sniffs at the refugee's offers. [b]"I have not the time or materials to hide a group as large as yours. I will however pay you for honest labor. Provisions or some of my more esoteric supplies, the choice is yours.
Leaving Veld's hut behind, the party moves southwest, searching for some sign of the half-elf hunter Keloch.
After several hours, they encounter a clearing in the forest, dotted with tree stumps. Somebody has deforested the area to make room for a timber cabin, small and square, leaving only grass to carpet the area. Surrounding the cabin is a jumble of poles and racks suitable for tanning leather or drying meat. No smoke emits from its chimney.
Beyond the cabin lies a smaller building constructed from mud and wood.
The woods surrounding the clearing are marred by heavily-scratched trees and the skeletons of dead animals.
As the party assists Veld, Dalvin does what he can to help. His size makes him much more ineffectual at chopping wood, especially with Skalla and Rolar at hand. So the gnome makes himself and Drako useful by carrying the already chopped wood to where it needs to be, only tripping over the weight of the wood once.
Dalvin calls for Drako to stop moving as they approach yet another cabin. "Must be Keloch," he mutters quietly, taking in the scene. No smoke, poles and racks were empty, and these scratches...
"Looks like a bobcat, or maybe a lynx might be around," Dalvin observes. "Probably what left the skeletons behind. It's not normal for either of them to mark trees, though. Hm."
Skalla narrows her eyes at the scene, sniffing the air.
"Indeed, they do not usually do that. I hope this lynx or bobcat didn't get our hunter."
Cautiously, the half-orc advances into the clearing, alert for danger.
"Looks like a bobcat, or maybe a lynx might be around," Dalvin observes. "Probably what left the skeletons behind. It's not normal for either of them to mark trees, though. Hm."
"That's good to know," Rayne murmurs, half to herself. Eyes trained on the cabin, she walks towards the building with the intention of finding out who, or what, might be within.
Glancing around as she walks towards the cabin, Rayne spots an unexpected, but imminent, danger. She twists towards Skalla and grasps the woman's arms tightly from behind, holding her in place. "Don't move," she says sternly. She pauses, making sure that her directions are followed, then relaxes her hold.
"Stay there." Retrieving a large stick from the nearby ground, she stabs it into the ground in front of them, flinching as the bear trap snaps around it.
"Watch for bear traps," she calls out to the others, then nods at Skalla. "I'm sorry for grabbing you like that, but..." She trails off with a shrug.
Skalla exhales audibly as she realizes the peril.
"No, thank you, probably saved my leg with your quick reaction." she replies to Rayne, nodding her thanks.
"Now, let's see if our hunter is at home, or..." Raising her voice a little, she calls out. "Keloch! Are you at home? We come with peaceful intentions!"
Skalla receives no response from the cabin.
An eerie mewling echoes from somewhere in the woods around the clearing.
At the creature's sound, Drako lets out a low growl and bares his teeth. Dalvin draws his bow and nocks an arrow, spinning around in an effort to locate where the sound is coming from.
"That's definitely a lynx," he calls out to the others quietly. "Keep your voice down and your eyes peeled." He peers into their surroundings, looking for any visual signs of the animal.
Rolar confidently takes three steps into the clearing. He flips his shield over his shoulder and into his left hand then taps Heart Rend against it lightly.
"Here kitty kitty" he says with the knowing grin of a warrior about to start the dance.
He cautiously peers around the clearing for any signs of movement and prepares to charge the moment an enemy is in range.
Nisa follows closely behind Rolar, tightening her fists preparing for the lynx.
The giggling elemental, began singing in her ears in a far to cheery tone,"This is my favorite type of game! I wonder who it will pounce on. My sap tells me it will be the little one. It's always the little ones,"
Nisa clicks her tongue sharply once, before whispering to herself, "lrrut’yun Zeekan! Sing less and pay attention for the beast."
Despite the creepy noises, no lynx appears in the clearing. After a few moments, the sounds stop and silence returns.
Rolar's eyes fix on a spot of grass directly between himself and the cabin door. "Bear trap ahead, right in front of me" he calls out to his companions.
He slowly approaches the Cabin door examining the ground in an attempt to identify any recent tracks. "Keloch!". He yells out toward the cabin. "We be in need of yer assistance. The bloody Ironfangs be not two days march behind us."
No reply to Rolar's calls come from the cabin, though the dwarf has made it to the front door.
Rayne follows Rolar to the door. "He could be out hunting, I suppose."
Trying the door handle, she pauses, brow furrowed in puzzlement. "That's... strange," she says to Rolar. "There's a tension behind the door. It feels as though something is holding it from the other side."
Dalvin slowly lowers his bow as the sounds vanish, grimacing and placing a hand on Drako for comfort. The gnome follows the others to the door, carefully sidestepping the hidden bear trap.
Dalvin steps forward, looking at the door with interest. "Is it keeping the door from being opened at all? Or is it a trap?"
"That's... strange," she says to Rolar. "There's a tension behind the door. It feels as though something is holding it from the other side."
With a mischievous glint in his eyes Rolar looks toward Rayne "Not fer long" he says with a wink as he positions himself about ten feet in front of the door.
Dalvin steps forward, looking at the door with interest. "Is it keeping the door from being opened at all? Or is it a trap?"
Head down with his left shoulder turned slightly to the front Rolar takes off at a dead sprint "Only one way to find out!" he shouts back to Dalvin moments before crashing into the door.
The dwarf had the right of it. They had already wasted too much time skulking about this cabin and tip-toeing around bear traps. Bracing a foot solidly on the ground, Skalla gives the door a shove with her forearm, over Rolar's head.
"Ow. I think I hit my funny bone." Her face contorted in a grimace of pain, she backs away from the door.
"Well. He's not home, or he's dead. We should move on."
Skalla HP: 17/17 - AC: 17/11/16 Status:
Rolar HP: 22/22 - AC: 20/12/18 Status:
Rayne HP: 14/14 - AC: 16/13/13 Status:
Nisa HP: 28/28 - AC: 19/13/15 Status:
Dalvin HP: 18/18 - AC: 15/13/13 Status:
________________________________
Yargin - HP: 26/26 - AC: 15/11/14
Pila - HP: 19/19 - AC: 15/14/11
The source of the tension is revealed as the door gives way easily under Rolar's shoulder. A piece of twine runs from the opposite handle to a crossbow's trigger, the weapon balanced to fire at the first through the door. With a dull twang, the trap fires at the defenseless dwarf, the bolt burying itself right beneath his right collarbone.
The interior of the cabin is a wreck. The ceiling has partly collapsed, and all of the furniture inside has been overturned or destroyed save for a single stool, atop which sits a humanoid form, its eyes glowing red.
The figure stands, revealing a gaunt form draped in furs. One arm hangs useless, a bone protruding from its putrid flesh from a severe compound fracture. The other holds a handaxe. Its burning eyes are framed by a pair of pointed ears, a tangled beard, and a shock of white hair. The creature strides menacingly towards Rolar.
Seeing Rolar almost take a bolt to the throat, Skalla's patience snaps and she shoulders past the dwarf into the cabin.
"Well, I was half-right. He is dead, but somehow still moving!"
Hefting her double-headed axe in both hands, she takes a swing at the creature shambling towards them.
Dalvin jumps back from the door as the bolt strikes Rolar. "Are you alright?" he shouts at him as Skalla rushes past and into the cabin.
Dalvin turns to yell for Drako when he notices movement in the grass. "Careful! The lynx is here!" he calls out. "Behind us!" Dalvin commands Drako to join the fight inside the cabin, and pulls out his bow. He readies and arrow, draws back, and fires into the grass where the lynx was spotted.
Meanwhile, Drako runs full speed into the cabin and behind the decaying skeleton. He lets out a low growl, then lunges.
Wights are usually the product of necromancy, violent deaths, or particularly malevolent personalities. In some cases, wights arise when evil spirits bond with corpses, often of slain warriors. Wights can also create other wights by draining the life from their victims.
Wights can be destroyed by magic that returns life, such as raise dead.