Go ahead and dot.
Dot :)
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==> . <==
Before we start there is one last bit of logistics to handle: the tagline. This is that little line that shows up next to your name in game threads.
Here's what I would like to see in yours:
Apparent race, apparent gender (if any), strength, agility, intellect, will, defense, HP, statue
Example: John, Human M, S9, A10, I8, W9, D11, HP 2/7, Status: Poisoned, Frightened
This tells us who you're presenting to the world in terms of race and gender, your physical defenses so I can use them as a DM without having to click your profile (very annoying to have to do that on a phone), and any afflictions you may have to your fellow players and I can see what's happening to you.
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Please make your first RP post now. It should include the following:
Who are you, what do you look like, and why are you on this caravan headed to Fletcher's Rest?
Some people have already posted this in discussion; for you, you can either copy/paste or rewrite it after your interactions with the other PCs.
Once everyone has posted and updated their tagline, I'll start the official first post of the game.
Jexen is weary.
He feels as if he has travelled a very long way, but he does not recall most of it.
He feels old, but he doesn't remember being young. Or even less aged.
His carapace might have once been a brilliant white, but is now worn and discoloured into various light shades of yellow and grey.
He does not stand tall. Four foot nothing, slightly hunched, 75 pounds of gears and plates, with a key prominent on his back, slowly winding down.
He feels strong, and he thinks he could plan a landing on a hostile beach. And why he would be able to do so confuses and worries him.
He is not flesh, but there is a baby in swaddling cloth next to him. A few bottles of milk, some clothing, some nappies.
Who made me? Why do I exist? What do I do now? And what do I do with this baby?
He speaks aloud:
"Do any of you know much about babies? This one looks fed and content for now, but I only have so many bottles to feed it with."
Brinda is an average human in terms of height and weight, with medium-length brown hair and a cute, almost doll-like face. She smiles easily, but not much strong emotion shows on her face. She is a conscientious travelling companion, always willing to chip in with chores and duties, and she completes them with efficiency. She usually remains fairly quiet, unless she is conversing with either TAS or Jexen. She also tends to stay within sight of Cynerik, both watching his back for him, and for reassurance that he is still around. Brinda is dressed in tatty rags; spattered with mud and other stains, they look like they may have been fine clothes at some point in the distant past, but have seen many hard times recently.
Brinda moves up to Jexen. "You know I don't know anything about babies, Jexen. Now let me get to your key, you're getting close to winding down. We don't want that, do we?" She manoeuvres behind the small clockwork and begins winding him up.
Jexen's face is not expressive, but the perceptive might see signs of gratitude.
"Thank you Brinda. And yes, I do remember asking you."
He remembers about a day back. Stumbling out of the woods, his few possessions and the baby in hand. He came across the caravan about an hour after that. Though he has not yet spoken to all in the caravan.
Walking just a bit behind the others, watching the strange exchange between Jexen and Brinda, was a broad-shouldered man. Tall but relatively average in any other feature; his beard had grown haggard after months of not trimming it and his dark brown hair is dirty with travel. The clothes on his form are all varying colors of brown, better to hide the stains of mud that have seemed to cake permanently upon his boots. A rough backpack carries what little the man owns, the dagger on his side bouncing rhythmically against his hip with each step.
Fletcher's Rest was just another stop upon the road, a place to lay one's head down, find some work, before maybe moving onwards. Nowhere had seemed like home to the man yet, not with the eyes of strangers lingering on him and his old shame creeping down his spine. Those thoughts were pushed away though as he made his way up to the others on the other side of Jexen.
"I was a father once. We'll find some more milk to replace it when we get into town. Alright?" His voice is low and may have the tension to be commanding if he ever needed it to be. It would be obvious there was some tension of being alongside the Clockwork, though that was a common thing when it came to people who ever met one of these strange beings. "He doesn't seem to remember me..." Cynerik will think, watching Jexen coddle this young child in his machine arms.
A stout dwarf with a shaved head and a well-kept beard walks near the front of the caravan. His clothing, though modest in appearance, is very well fitted. It's obvious that he takes great pride in his appearance, despite his large potbelly. He uses a splinter from his torch to pick his teeth clean before rising the wood shard to the side of the road.
He glances back to the others, who seem to be discussing children or the like. He palms his small coin purse, tucked into his front pocket.
So this is retirement, eh? Gotta say... It's pretty boring so far... Miss the weight of the axe on me back. I'll probably enjoy meself once we're off this blasted trail.
While T.A.S. is not old for a clockwork, his constructor did not care to use new and good parts. Some of his cogs and springs have been rusted a long time before his body was assembled and filled with a soul. The clothes on his iron body are dirty and have holes from his time in the wilderness.
He has the rough shape of a human but weighs a lot more due to the iron and steel making up his limbs and body. In his face he has a big hole - a socket - with an ember stone eye. A mouth-like opening to speak is the only other visible feature on his head.
Tas feels uncomfortable in this big caravan. But he has to bring the bag of flour in his backpack to Fletcher's Rest. While Mary always does a great job of winding up the tiny rusted key embedded in his back, he needed a repair as one of the connecting cogs started to break apart. There was only one dwarf in the nearest town capable of repairing him and he had no money to pay him for his service. Instead they made a deal: He would repair Tas and Tas had to join the caravan to deliver the bag of flour - at least that's what the dwarf called it - to it's destination.
In the caravan he met Brinda. He liked her for the interest she showed in the magic scroll he had "borrowed" from his old master. And he trusts her enough to let her wind up his key.
Brinda was busy with the other clockwork - T.A.S. did not speak much with him yet - so he was walking a bit behind them.
Kandl is a tall Goblin, standing almost 5' in height. He has a painfully long chin, which is thankfully devoid of hair, otherwise one might make unflattering comparisons to a paintbrush. He is dressed in what one might believe to be a suit of leather armor, if they squinted their eyes and looked upon it at a great distance.
Still, there is a straightness in his bearing, and bit of something almost regal about him. Maybe it's his posture, maybe it's the red piece of ribbon he wears tied around one bicep. It's clear that he believes himself to be more than he appears.
___________________
Kandl was with this caravan guarding a huddled group of Humans, who seem to respect him, yet are clearly uncomfortable around him.
___________________
As for Kandl himself, he seems cheery and clearly glad to be on this trip. he hums something to himself slightly off tune, but in an honest, upbeat manner that would almost be endearing in one of the more civilized races.
A thin and ugly dark-skinned Orc leans against the back of wagon watching a little metal ball float atop the railing as he pushes it between his hands. This is Slugoth a former bandit who just finished a year and a half studying the stars and their signs and wonders after having saved the life of a nobleman. Although big by human standards he is only 14 summers old.
Feeling unsure of himself and what he should do, he joined up with the caravan, just trying to find his place in the world. His ears perk up when he hears a voice asking about a baby. His curiosity leads him over to where a Clockwork and two humans are talking. "I don't know much about babies other than they are better stewed than baked. But I am assuming that's not what you are looking for..."
Official Opening Post
You are on a caravan headed to the small town of Fletcher's Rest in the Northern Reach. It's just beyond the Old Wood, a forest with a dark reputation because of an ancient protector who slew many of the woodcutters working here long ago.
The Old Wood is a dense tangle of oaks, maples, and elms that covers a considerable area west of the Black Hills, a rolling landscape from which miners extract coal. Once the wood was a prime timber resource, but the woodcutters ceased their operations after being driven out by its enraged guardian, a mythical being known as a leshy. Since then, the wood has reclaimed much of its lost territory, swallowing up several tiny villages and the roads connecting them.
You were on such a road winding it's way through the Old Wood when your caravan was waylaid by bandits. Those who could scattered as the bandits indiscriminently killed whoever was in reach.
You were one who escaped into the forest with a small group of others with you. You don’t know if you are the only survivors or if you are being pursued - but even if you aren’t, the Old Wood is a dangerous place. Your best chance at living through this ordeal is to get to Fletcher’s Rest and warn the people living there about the rapacious killers haunting the woods.
It's been 2 hours since the attack, and so far you haven't seen any bandits. You're with others (other PCs) plus two children, one six month old boy and one 13 year old girl. You're in the middle of the forest and you're lost.
The current time is 9 pm; it's getting dark quickly. You have no shelter, but at least you a bit of food (everyone starts with 1 day's worth of food). Fortunately, there is actually plenty of water from nearby streams ().
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Notes. Read this before posting.
This is an adventure for beginner PCs and beginner Players. We're all beginners here, so let's help each other with the rules (for those who have the book) and story as we go along.
This Adventure is a Hex Crawl style of adventure. Each hex represents one hour's worth of travel (as well as approximately one mile of distance), as the dense wood and uneven terrain make it difficult to move too quickly. Of you find the road, you will be able to move faster, but the road comes with its own perils.
Your job is to survive the forest and find a settlement so you can get to safety. Any settlement will do, although Fletcher's Rest may be the one you want to seek out.
Whoever posts first, roll an Intellect Challenge Roll (d20+Int Mod) and pick a direction (N, NE, SE, S, SW, NW; with North being the top of the map). You have 2 Bane on this roll, minus one Bane for each Wilderness Profession. Roll Xd6 and take the highest only to subtract from your roll. It's DC 10. On a success, you go to the hex you intended. On a fail, you go to a different hex (one step to the left or right).
Whenever the results of the Hex, if any, have been resolved, then the next person to post will decide on the next hex and roll the Intellect Challenge Roll. This way, we'll be able to go through these hexes fairly quickly without having to do one hex every few days.
"HA!" Sköllji snorts loudly after overhearing the Orc's comment. This is the first time since the caravan set out that he's reacted to anything with more than just a grunt or nod.
Sköllji takes a glance behind him, scanning over the ragtag group of miscreants. His gaze rests finally on T.A.S. I'd bet me left b&&~$#@ he's the one the boss mentioned. Just gotta find out where he's taking it. An' I thought me last mission would be difficult.
Cynerik gave a glance towards the Orc for just a moment, eyes narrowing at his comment. He had his fill of the barbarism that the Orcs could present when he served his time in the Marchlands. The Emperor, let the New God rest his soul, was murdered by their kin's king and now everything was in chaos. It was why he left his post in the militia he was drafted in, heading North to escape the chaos that would come with such a brutal change.
He would have something to say before the bandits came and attacked the caravan, killing the driver. Screams erupted and the air quickly tasted of copper as fresh blood was spilled upon the old road. Looking around, Cynerik caught sight of a few others close to him and shouted over the din of battle.
There were too many of the experienced killers and not enough blades to fight them off. Caution needed to be taken if they didn't want to suffer the same fates of the others. The young boy cried, his mother dead and covering her ward's body. Without even thinking, Cynerik would scoop up the baby boy and run off into the woods, fleeing the battle.
He ran for what seemed like a night and a day, his legs aching at the sudden exertion after what was days of walking along the hard road. Cynerik's heart hammered in his chest, fear gripping tightly as he heard the cracks of branches behind them. "We have to get away. We have to escape them!" And so he ran into the darkness of the woods, deeper and deeper until the night sky was swallowed alive by the hungry limbs of the trees above.
At last he stopped, his chest heaving as he looked about in the dark. The clunking of the clockworks alerted him that they were still with him and there were a few more that had arrived as well. Swallowing hard, he'd catch his breath and whisper to the others.
"Everyone alright? Anyone see any more of the bastards?" The bandits would certainly not want any survivors. Survivors meant that news would travel and word would get out about the killers in the woods. Such wicked bastards, slaying people on already dangerous paths. The silence provided no clue to their assailants' whereabouts and that fear just tightened its grip around the man's stomach. "W-we need to find a village. Somewhere safe, warn the others about the bandits." It was what was right, a proper militia could give them a fight but they'd need the manpower first to do so.Striking up one of his torches, the darkness would burn away as the brilliant light began to shine. It was a beacon to their position but it was even more deadly to wander these woods in the dark and try to grope your way to safety.
"If we can find some kind of clearing, somewhere that I can see the night's sky, I might be able to guide us better. Come on, I'll lead." The bravery in his tone was for the children's sake than actual bravado. For anyone else, they could see the worry on his face as he drew his dagger with his other hand and slowly stalked into the woods.
Current time: 10 pm.
Lighting: Dark
Cynerik confidently leads you northwards, ever insisting he knows the way.
It's difficult traveling, and it takes nearly an hour to make it the one mile you've traveled so far. But fortunately, you haven't come across a single bandit or anything else for that matter. The sounds of the forest shift from the evening critters to the night time critters.
T.A.S. blindly followed the man that grabbed Mary. He was about to jump and attack him when he realized it was someone from the caravan and that he wanted to save her. Later he thanked him and explained he is taking care of her.
They followed the man for an hour through the woods. Tas spent the time calming Mary who was dreaded with fear. He was relieved when he noticed Brinda in their group. The goblin and the orc worried him but they would need every help they can get if they met any more bandits.
"We need to take a rest. We are on our feet since the morning and only did a short rest to eat and drink. Some of us are tired." - He takes a look at Mary.
"I will try to find some food. Mary, stay with Brinda, okay? And we need a guard while the rest sleeps. Any volunteer for the first shift?"
Sköllji pants heavily as he catches up to the group. His face glows red, though it's difficult to tell if it's from exhaustion or fury. "Feckin' hell! Those whoresons! If I'd 'ave 'ad me bleedin' axe I'd 'ave split the c!&~%&$+!~s from scrote to chin!"
"Aye, I've still got me 'ead. More then I ken say fur some o' the others," he responds to Cynerik.
Sköllji listens to what everyone has to say and takes mental note of those who escaped. As night approaches, he starts to formulate a plan. He responds to TAS quickly, "Aye. I'll take first watch. Blood's still pumping from what 'appened." Sköllji produces a club from his backpack.
I'm under strict orders te avoid fightin', but I think Garrote will understand un'er these circumstances.
While standing guard, Sköllji attempts to discern which direction is north.
As you settle in for the night, you take turns keeping watch. The ground is hard and cold, and the occasional bug makes you twitch right up until you fall asleep enough to finally ignore them.
Guards switch through the night, but you're left undisturbed. Everyone wakes up with the morning dew feeling a but more refreshed and a little more confident that the bandits aren't chasing you - or perhaps they simply took a rest for the night as well.
Current time: 6 am
Lighting: Lit
I'll keep doing this style of "who makes the decision" where anyone can start and their name is crossed of the list of who can make the call,
up until everyone has made a call. If we hit a 24 mark where someone hasn't made the call, I'll do it and we'll reset the list. I'll let you know when a decision can be made again.
Cyrenik
Jexen
Kandl
Sköllji
Slugoth
TAS
Toy
This may seem like a fast pace, but it really isn't. It's not meant for everyone to respond to every hex every time. Especially when a lot of hexes will be "nothing happens." Once we get to an even, then we'll be waiting for everyone to post. For the hex exploration, this method will allow us to actually explore the map in a reasonable amount of time.
Pork stretches and yawns. He'd stayed in the back, trying to do his best to go unnoticed as the caravan went on. He wanted to get to Fletcher's Rest so that he could do what he always did-try to scam hardworking people out of their land and resources. He's a smaller goblin, still a kid really. He's short and still has a bit of baby fat, and it seems like his nose at least has already grown to its full size. He eyes the others-he's used his age to hide in caravans like this before. Nobody expects the little goblin kid to actually pull his weight, right? This group definitely seems smarter than the normal ones, though. He might have to actually (gasp) do work with these guys in order to stay with them. He shudders. It's going to be a long journey.
--That Night--
After travelling in the near dark, only the light of his torch illuminating the way, Cynerik stops and turns to the others. If the caravan had been left unbothered, they certainly would've set up camp for now.
Turning to T.A.S., he eyes the Clockwork for a moment before looking at the girl who was supposed to accompany. It was likely her reassuring smile that disarmed him as he let her go, nodding his head towards him.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know she was your ward. I heard the other girl.." He'd point to over Brinda as he spoke. "Call you Tas. If it is alright, may I do the same?" Never before had he dealt with so many Clockworks, if you could call two "many". He had seen some here and there when he studied astrology within the city but he had not expected to have them as company this far North.
Settling down, he lays his head upon his backpack. The months of walking and the previous months of being in the military both had led to him finding comfort even in the hardest of grounds.
"I'll take the next watch. Just let me get an hour or two." The man murmurs, laying his head down for now and slowly falling into a fitful slumber.
--This Morning--
Cynerik awoke with a start, despite the ache in his body that pleaded for more rest. Drearily, he rose from his sleeping position and grabbed a bit of food to eat. The rations were simple but nutritious, enough to keep the body going even if the mind balked at the idea of more of the plain food.
"Tas, I saw you head off into the woods. Find anything good?
Standing up and looking up at the canopy above, nothing seemed to be recognizable. The wilderness was all around them and he wasn't sure where he was.
"I'll be honest everyone..." Cynerik said, running his hand through his hair. "...I've not done a lot of wayfinding before. I'll help where I can though. We all need to stick together, our numbers is an advantage." Even poorly equipped, a mob that was organized could still be dangerous. He looked suspiciously at the two goblins and the orc for the moment. They had been relatively civil on the trip so far but when push came to shove, what would they do? He'd have to be ready for it.
The module calls for a Perception check for finding food, but you can add a Boon to it if you have some sort of skill in hunting, wilderness survival, or the like. I'll let you figure out if your profession counts for a boon. Also, if you feel that your professions make you absolutely unfit for survival in the woods, take a bane on that check.
TAS found enough food for one person.
Sköllji leads you north.
Time: 7 am
Lighting: Lit
You have found the trail! You can now move 3 hexes in one hour. Movement still requires a Intellect Challenge Roll, because it can be hard to follow at times.
Oy! There's some! a voice from down the road shouts. Five men, no... Not men. Well some are, but those other two couldn't be more than boys - 13, maybe 14 at most. Either way, a group of five bandits spots your group. While they have possibly deadly intent, or at the very least a capture not in your favor, they don't seem nearly as scary as they did in the initial attack. Perhaps it was the numbers, or the fear and panick from the surprise. But still, they seem intent on seeing you harm.
They're all armed with clubs. Two of them have bows strapped to their backs. One Bowman and one other have brigadine armor. And all of them have small shields.
Brinda hasn't said much during the group's ordeal; she fled quickly, following Cynerik's lead during the initial attack, and has kept a low profile since, checking on the clockworks, and later looking after Mary.
Her face has been rather expressionless so far, slightly strained and pale, but somewhat blank. When the men begin approaching with weapons and armour, her face blanches further, but her eyes narrow and she reaches for her sling. She turns quickly to Mary.
"If we flee, you flee with us. If this becomes a fight, run to the trees, but not too far. Try to keep an eye on us. If the enemy begins to overrun us, flee into the woods, and gods watch over you. Otherwise, we will win, and you can rejoin us when this is done. Now, behind us." With that, she gives the girl a small yet firm push behind the rest of the group, away from the brigands. She then goes to stand beside Cynerik, loading a bullet in her sling as she does.
Sköllji whispers to the group without breaking vision with the bandits, "Get into the foliage. We're sittin' ducks against those archers. Make them get close if we're gonna fight."
The potbellied dwarf grips his club tight.
If we make it te town, the first thing I'm doin' is buyin' a blasted axe.
Cynerik moves out onto the road, a smile upon his face as he looks up into the sky and whispers. "Thank God, we found a path. Now we can begi-" His words are cut off by a shout down the way, his attention immediately turning towards the band of bandits that are coming their way. Most of them were merely boys, just about to become adults in the world.
Brinda whispers to the girl on the side, pushing her away and loading up her slingshot. His attention looks towards Jexen, nodding at the Clockwork.
"Find a place to put the child safely, we might need your skills." There was an obvious tone of some kind of recognition before his attention turned towards the bandits on the road.
Hearing the dwarf, Cynerik gives a quick nod"Exactly like the dwarf said. Take out the archers and the number advantage is our. Stick to the foliage, pick at them as you can. Flee if we start to fall." Running away, though tempting, was a bad choice. The day was well lit and they were sure to give chase. Together, a mob was more dangerous but alone, they were easy prey. Cynerik nodded to the bandits, raising his voice and shouting.
The shout was directed more towards the impressionable and still youthful lads, the threat of an Orc and two Clockworks hopefully enough to lessen their confidence and scare them off.
Emboldened and fortified by Cynerik's words, Brinda bares her teeth at the bandits and hisses like an angry cat.
As the Bandits attacked the caravan, Kandl had stood his ground, attempting to fight him back with flashing blade and riposting shield. When someone called to regroup, he realized he was the last one still standing, and so he turned and ran to join up with the others. The group ran for a while, but it was the last sight he saw, of the Humans he had sworn to protect laying cold on the ground, that haunted him.
During the night, Kandl had fallen into a tortured sleep, surrounded by the dead who all asked the same thing: Why? Why didn't you save me?
When he was roused for his guard shift, he was glad for it, as it held the torment at bay.
As the bandits appeared, Kandl shouted "For the fallen!" and then charged, drawing his blade as he went.
Pork takes the dwarf's advice, diving into the foliage almost before the words have left the dwarf's mouth. He sits there quivering in fear, with his staff drawn. He's shocked when the other goblin charges headlong into battle. "What's he doing? He's going to get himself killed!"
All Fast PCs go. You may take an action OR take a move.
All Fast Enemies go.
All Slow PCs go. You may take an action AND take a move.
All Slow Enemies go.
Init:
Cyrenik (Fast)
Toy (Fast)
Sköllji (Fast)
Kandl (Slow)
Pork ?
TAS ?
Slugoth?
Jexen is confused for a moment by Cynerik's words, but he *does* have a dagger and a sling.
He places the baby under a bush, out of sight and hopefully safe for a spell.
And then loads his sling, trying to sneak into a position to strike an archer from.
Why does this come so easily to me?
Jexen, are you just moving or also attacking?
Init:
Cyrenik (Fast)
Toy (Fast)
Sköllji (Fast)
Kandl (Slow)
Jexen (Slow)
Pork ?
TAS ?
Slugoth?
Cyrenik and Toy blast out a threat, which clearly makes the younger lads feel threatened. You can see them visibly shaken, but the adults keep them rounded.
Pork darts into the bushes, while Sköllji prepares for them to rush in.
Init:
Cyrenik (Fast)
Toy (Fast)
Sköllji (Fast)
Pork (Fast)
Kandl (Slow)
Jexen (Slow)
TAS ?
Slugoth?
T.A.S. nods towards Mary. "Do as Brinda said! We'll take care about those rats."
T.A.S. draws his sling from a pocket and shoots a stone at the nearest bandit in an attempt to draw their attention away from Mary and to help intimidating them.
Slugoth joins Kandl's charge...
TAS goes on fast initiative, but misses with the sling.
Fast Init, Enemies:
The frightened man takes his time to take off his shield and get his bow ready for next round.
Slow Init, PCs:
Kandl charges in and swipes his Dagger at one of the men, cutting into him.
Jexen launches a sling stone, pelting the same man.
Slugoth, towering over Kandle, attampts to go for the kill, but the stone from the sling moves the man out of the way at the last second.
Slow Init, Enemies:
The injured bandit swings back at the beast of an orc in front of him. Meanwhile, he yells at the boys to help him.
The uninjured man charges the ranks in the back and goes for Cyrenik.
The boys attack the goblin and orc, clearly scared to do so.
Cynerik watches as the Orc and the Goblin go charging forward into the enemy ranks, his eyes widening at the bravado of their attacks.
"What the hell are they thinking! Those men are dangerous!" The bandits, while frightened, weren't reconsidering their position and a chill went down Cynerik's spine as he watched the fighting begin. Slugoth would charge in with Kandl, swinging at one of the men. When the bandit swerved out of the Orc's killing blow, despair was beginning to steal at his heart. "This isn't going to work..."
One of the men charged for him, coming at him with a blade, and Cynerik barely dodged out of the way of the attack. He swings faster than he expected but is able to dodge out of the way.
"By God's name, have you no decency!" Cynerik shouts, wild-eyed as he swings with the dagger. The man in the back has his bow and arrow drawn and he isn't sure if the others will be accurate enough to put them down. He had to get into cover, now.
The dagger goes wide and Cynerik curses softly, trying to duck out of the way and escape the wrath of the bandit and the bowman in the back. "We need to run! Get the hell out of here!" He shouts to his comrades, fear running through his being.