"I am not acquainted with that man or woman, but whatever you decide sounds fine to me"
Ok, after the cold, dark winter, huddled over your maps and planning for the future; springs comes early this year as if to make up for the hard winter you just endured.
What are you doing now. This is the start of the month and reports of Troll activity to the south are becoming constant.
As the reports of trolls filter in, Reknar's mood becomes fouler than usual - he visits and drills the militia more often than not, constantly making sure they are adequately equipped, and discreetly double checking the oil supplies....
|Colwyn the Toad|
"Damnable trolls," Colwyn growls for at least the one hundred and eleventh time. An observer watching his face contort in bitterness might almost suspect he was in competition with Reknar for producing a foul mood.
"The irregulars can guard Thornholme, but I'm not trusting them with the business of hunting down these green beasts. Time and again, we have proven that we are the best hearts for the job. Now that we have our northern border secured with Levetown, it is time to secure the wilder southern marches."
Colwyn will then visit the peddlers who throng the open streets of Thornholme, seek out those who can procure alchemical mixtures, and flesh out his arsenal not only with more alchemist's fire but a few flasks of acid, just to be sure.
Purchasing 2 flasks of Alchemist's Fire (20gp each) and 4 Acid flasks (10gp each). Using 80gp from party funds.
|GM Kevin O'Rourke|
"I suggest we head to the lands to the southwest of where we encountered Crackjaw and explore the lands adjacent to Tuskwater lake. If we find tracks we follow up on it but if not we keep exploring until we have something firmer. Soon the weather will no longer hold back the trolls from getting adventurous."
IE 49, then 55, then 54
random: 1d100 ⇒ 18
You reach Hex49 without incident, following the shores of the lake and enjoying the sun actually being visible for the first time in months, while the air is still crisp with the last touches of winter you feel the temperature gradually inching back to bearable.
P. The Mud Bowl
A strange, 20-foot-wide pool of bubbling mud sits in a narrow defile between several hills here. The mud is heated by geothermal activity, and although it’s not hot enough to cause damage, the foul-smelling vapor it gives off forces anyone within 60 feet of the mud to make a DC 15
Fortitude save or become nauseated for 2d6 rounds.
Large mounds of fungus and strange mushrooms thrive on the mud bowl’s banks, and in the noxious air, several of the fungi grow to heights of 10 feet or more.
What are you doing?
|Colwyn the Toad|
"I'd be worried about folks stumbling into this mess and being cooked alive, but that smell ought to be warning enough," the baron surmises, pinching his nose closed against the offending odor. With his free hand, he waves away the wafting fumes.
"A rather unwholesome place. Unless there's a mind among us unbalanced enough to imagine business here, I propose we sidestep this pit and continue southward."
"Agreed I guess..." - Reknar peers around for any reasons why they should be concerned about this place.
Kn (Nature) - is this a natural phenomena?: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25
"Yes, anyone who can put this place to use has more imagination then most."
He stares out through the mushrooms looking for anything moving.
perception: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (11) + 13 = 24
"I don't fancy facing whatever plant creature has grown in this area, they do seem to pop up everywhere."
|Colwyn the Toad|
"Well, I'm glad that they're growing so well," Colwyn speaks with sarcasm. After a brief eye roll, he lets his eyes rove across the scene.
"You say we've been here? Could be" he says with a derisive snort. "Can't say I would've committed this place to memory. 'Course, I'd imagine a smell like this would at least ring a sour bell."
This is a perfectly normal geothermal mudpool. In fact you remember the Swamp witch mentioning she would pay you well for the heads of Black rattlecap mushrooms. She makes tea out of them. :)
stealth: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16
Isaac notices that one particularly huge mound of fungus and rank vegetation near the north shore of the mud bowl stirs a little as you draw closer.
What are you doing now?
|Colwyn the Toad|
Colwyn groans as Isaac points out the quivering heap of fungus.
"Well, I know that we've been here before," he rues the situation, drawing his bow as a precaution. "While I always fancy earning a bit of pay, I'm not as keen on getting close to that nasty mess. Any volunteers?"
It was delightful that the winter was nearly through but that good feeling was dampened by one problem, the reports of the attacking trolls were a rather large problem in Zelera's mind. The damned brutes threatened to undermine what she was working towards and they needed to be stopped. Fortunately it seemed they were all in agreement on this point and so they set out to try and deal with the threat.
When they came to the mudbowl Zelera couldn't help but looking at their guide and said, "What a wonderful new smell you've discovered." Her nose wrinkled in distaste at the odor and listened to the thoughts about what to do now they were here. "I'm not enthusiastic about it either, especially if something jumps us while we go there. Still I can do it if no one else will but," she gave the men a rather annoyed look, "surely you're not going to make me do this are you?"