The Stolen Lands (Inactive)

Game Master Akinra

"Best chance ever, to get killed by a troll." Jutmon whispers. He knows that his old master's book holds spells that can vaporize a troll. Jutmon means to survive long enough to learn them.

"Sergei says the grig is here. It may be tricking us again. May free the trolls if we get close to them. Too many variables. We need to pick the battlefield, not let the battlefield pick us."

Feel free to use the Discussion forum to build a plan of action. Once you are all moving in more or less the same direction, or you reach an official schism, we can continue on. Just don't want to leave anyone behind on this one..

Inuki believes the grigs are protecting a site that is sacred to them, and we should take this opportunity to rid the area of trolls.

Will be traveling the rest of the day. Will use Inspire Courage when we are ready to attack.

With a slight clicking sound of metal running over metal, Nareth draws his spiked chain from around his chest "I believe we should help the grigs, let's go around that difficult ground and take them while we have the advantage. I'll let the grigs know we're on their side" Nareth advances with chain in hand, keeping a low profile but trying to wave so the grigs notice him. If they look scared or hostile he will offer his hands up in peace. When he gets close enough so they can hear him "We want to help, we're going to try to flank them"

"You're both mad! Last time we encountered these fey they tormented us, and there was only one. Now there are several and two extremely dangerous giants in the mix. I'm leaving!"

"Can I ride up behind you Roga? I want no part of this madness either.
Jutmon had seen a troll drop a horse earlier, and the grig had been more than unpleasant. In Jutmon's mind it seems like, the grigs would cause the trolls to kill the party, just for a few laughs.

Roga offers his hand to the wizard.

Roga, Grigs hate trolls more than most anything, they want our help! If we give them fire, they can blind the trolls and tie them down again. Right now they're pinned, so just try it. 'Sides what was that about 'clearing the land of bandits and other threats?' If they get free, you'll see it and can run. You're faster than they are. I've got the oil we need to kill them. We can do it, just trust me!

Wizard, if you've got fire use it! Or at least set my traps to slow 'em if this goes to hell.

Hammas will move forward, and, once the trolls notice us, shout out in sylvan. Keep 'em down! We'll kill 'em for ya!

Nareth, Inuki, Sergei, let's do this!

As the group turns to leave, a blinding flash washes over the party. Looking back, you notice dense black smoke flowing up from several locations, turning the area black as night. Howls of anger surge from the smoke in bone rattling waves.

Although free of the entangle effects, for now, the trolls have no way at all of noticing your presence for quite some time. You have more than ample opportunity to escape free of harm.

Where to now?

Up to the rest of the party. Hammas has no idea what we're up to. Oh yes, any information on the profile is considered fair game. She isn't shy about herself or her gear.

As the party moves away, Hammas looks back almost longingly, Could have taken 'em and someday I will.

"We will kill those trolls. Just not today. Like you said, Hammas, we need better gear. I need more training. There are spells that can destroy a troll, but I don't have that level of mastery. Yet."

"I wait eagerly for the day when I can be Roga Trollslayer rather than Roga Beastfriend. We still came all this way for those berries. Lets make a 3 or 4 hour circle to the west and south then come back here to collect what we need."

You circle the clearing at a wide birth for several hours. On your return, you find a pyre still burning with the charring remains of a troll. Around the edges of the clearing you find three tiny sized bows, a couple craters (roughly the size of a trolls fist) with impressions vaguely resembling the outline of grig. Troll prints can be found easily heading north from the clearing using a very long stride, likely running. Both dead elk remain in the field, not far off the funeral pyre. In the dusky light, you notice the fangberries glowing faintly.

Hammas: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10 (18 for scent)
Inuki Talespinner: Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7
Jutmon Symber: Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17
Nareth: Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
Roga Beastfriend: Perception: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (9) - 1 = 8
Sergei Surtova : Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

Nothing else strikes you as unusual at the moment.
1d6 ⇒ 1

How old are the tracks? Anything noticeable about the troll, do I smelled burned meat or hair on the one fleeing? Can I tell if it is injured?

Hammas' grin is wide enough to swallow the moon. May not have to wait long. One down and bet you anything the other is injured. Trolls don't abandon food lightly, if ever. Which also means, we've got dinner. Gesturing towards the elk. Just to be clear, the tusks are mine.

Hammas will carefully inspect the clearing. Trying to get more information about the fleeing troll and what happened here. On noticing the grig impressions, she will search for any bodies.

"We could use the dead elk as bait"

You smell quite a bit of burning flesh, hair, and wood. The oily black smoke makes discerning lesser odors very difficult. If you had to guess, you would think the fight probably only lasted a matter of moments, so 3-4 hours old on the tracks.

Roga will set about collecting as many fang berries as he can get for the old man.

Hammas will take up the small body and call out in sylvan, Your friend is dead. Please come for her. Then wait to see if there is a response. If not, she will carefully tuck the body away until she can give it a proper burial. It's obvious that something is bothering her.

Once that is finished, Hammas will dress the elk, taking as much meat as the party can carry. If the hides are usable, Hammas will take those too. Berry picking will follow.

Before the party sets up camp, or leaves, Hammas will be sure to remove the troll's tusks.

Jutmon sends his hawk, Sevrina out in a widening spiral. If the troll is making it's way back to the dead elk, perhaps the bird will spot it.

He collects a few of the berries for his own experimentation, but is careful to not strip the plants of all the berries. Best to leave some for others.

What do you have by way of containers for berries? There are scores of bushes, and they berries are everywhere. You can easily fill up a bag every 2-3 hours between all of you, yielding about 15 pounds of berries. You can pack substantially less than that into a belt pouch, saddle bag, or make shift container. You have 4 hours of daylight remaining. Although it is difficult to discern what types of animals frequent the grove, it is obvious that there are lots of them. Unfortunately, once trolls step in scat, it becomes very difficult to identify said scat. Likewise, a couple dozen explosions make tracks much more difficult to identify.

I have a couple waterproof bags. Not the greatest, but they should help keep juice from leaking everywhere. Better than sacks at least.

How much do we want, and what'er we gettin' these for? Hammas inquires.

"There's an old alchemist across the river to the north who tasked us with retrieving some of these berries for him. Mainly we've been exploring and mapping the greenbelt. Probably time to swing back north now. We were in the process of a long loop that eventually would brin us back to Oleg's for resupply and sale."

Two hours, and almost an entire bag full of berries later, you notice the sun starting to dip. You estimate you have approximately one hour before sunset. You can make camp here, or elsewhere as you see fit.

"We shouldn't camp here. It's to popular a destination for the local fauna. Lets go find a better place before we lose the light. Do you know anywhere around here Hammas?"

Mind if I go with ya? Plan was to spend the winter trapping, but if you're serious about killin' the Stag Lord I'm in.

I believe Inuki or someone was successful with a knowledge check earlier.

Inuki agrees to take the prudent course but still wonders if that was a missed opportunity. "That's twice we've run into trolls. We should be prepared with fire or acid if we can. At the least we should have torches at the ready. I wonder if that herbalist can prepare something for us as well."

Opps, ninja'd. Sorry about that Roga. I'd say so, but let's check. Akinra, does Hammas know a good place around here? I have her spending more time in the Silverstep area than the Narlmarches, but familiar with both. Survival check for a good camp site?

Looking around thoughtfully, Not anyplace real close. Likely looking copse a ways back though. Gonna to set up my traps here, see if the offal attracts anything, so don't want to get too far. Might get some more worgs if we're lucky. If anyone hears a trap go off or snarling for this direction, wake me up.

To Inuki, It'll happen again. Why I decided to spend the winter here. Gonna bag me a troll.

Hammas will pile the elk remains and set her traps around it. Baiting each with scraps and organs. The troll body will be dragged away, via the horse, so it is a few hundred feet away from the berries, then dismembered and seared with two flasks or oil. Always best to be sure about these things.

If I'm not able to respond in time.
Hammas will volunteer to take whichever watch has the least light, either before moonrise or after it sets. On her watch she'll build a pyre for the grig and offer prayers to Desna in sylvan. You know, just in case.

Since you have over an hour, and you are not in combat, finding a place to stay with a 17 survival is not an issue (Taking 10).

Pondering your survival instincts for a while, and you are able to recall just such a spot not too far back. You passed it several times while waiting for this grove to vacate in fact. Large oak trees crowd together in the dense grove. The twisting mass of bare branches above are heavy with snow, and block out most of the starlight. The massive trunks provide good wind break, and the branches that failed hold their own against the ice litter the ground, providing an ample source of heat.

Like most places that offer cover, there are several sets of prints, and many old bedding spots.

"I'd prefer you stay with us Hammas. Will let me keep an eye on you until I'm sure you're who you say you are." Roga says smiling. "I hope you are. Another blade, or bow as it may be, would be welcome."

"Hey guys."

Sergei points towards the hole to draw the groups attention to it.

Nareth looks down "Cant ever sleep in peace can we? Well we should find out what's down there"

Hammas just rolls her eyes at Roga. Look all ya want, no touching.

Looking at the hole, Hammas tries to learn what she can about it. Could always drop some burning oil down there.

Survival/Perception/K:N checks to see what can be learned. Don't forget the smells.

Survival: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25
Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (12) + 9 = 21 [29 v. scent]]
K. Nature: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17

The burrow appears to be the same as those made by many creatures of the forest, fox, badgers, and may larger jackrabbits to name a few. The burrow smells of scat, insects, worms, long dried earth, and, surprisingly, humans. All the odors (except insect and worm) are very feint, as if left in the distant past. There is one other odor, but you can't quite put your finger on it. You hear no sounds aside from small insectile scuttling, and on occasion the hum of wings.

You are unable to pick out any tracks, though that may be due to the stone lined floor and the relative size of the individuals using the hole, if it is still in use.

Peeking inside, thanks to darkvision, you are able to spy about five feet back into the tunnel. You see noting of note before the hole take a sharp turn right.

Your knowledge of nature lets you know that in general such holes do not go vacant. All manner of creatures, far too numerous to list, are happy to take over an abandoned burrow.

Hammas tells the others what she's noticed. So, could be a normal burrow, but there's a few things that make me all kinds of curious. It's pretty big and that gravel is unusual. I smell humans, but not a rotting corpse, which is damned odd. What bugs me the most though, there's another smell. I recognize it, I think, but can't quite tell what it is.

Straighening herself, Only things I know is that there some bugs down there and a good den like this is never empty. So, we can light something and toss it in. If we block this side, it might tell us where the other openings are. We can put a trap over the end and wait to see what comes out. Or, someone goes down the rabbit hole. I vote for number three and since ya'll can't see in the dark, it'll be my neck anyway.

Going to her horse, Hammas her winter clothing, leaving only the leather armor, before tying a rope harness around herself. Alright. You fellows please keep a tight hold on this. Handing Nareth the remaining rope. If it suddenly goes tight, I shout, or you just think something is wrong. Pull me back, quick. Now, unless I've missed something, let's go fishing. Muttering quietly to herself, "Down the rabbit hole." Odd phrase. Damned odd phrase. Hopefully I'm not what's her name.

Hammas will wait for people to discuss things a bit, then start crawling down the hole. Dagger in hand.

Nareth takes the rope in hand, wrapping it around his wrist to avoid it being dropped out tugged out. As Hammas prepares to lower herself in, he raises an eyebrow, "You're brave to go, but I can call light at will if we ever need it"

Roga sits back to let the scene unfold.

"You are exceedingly brave, for someone who still lives, Hammas." Comments Jutmon.

"You don't need to go down there to prove anything to us, if that's your idea."

The Wizard shrugs. "Would be nice to know what's down there, but maybe after we rest...
"We can pile branches over the hole for now. Should give us plenty of warning if something tries to come out while we sleep."

Jutmon really doesn't expect the hotheaded Hammas to listen to his ideas, but he tosses them out just the same.

And if you want to insult someone there are simpler ways to do it. You think I'm stupid. Feel the same about you. There, no harm done. Next time just say it. You and priest have your spells, right? Nobody's hurt. No sense in waiting then. This probably isn't the only entry. If we rest, whatever is inside can sneak up on us or run away. Normally that would be fine, but the scent is itching at me, the human too. Want it done before I sleep. Now, if there is a reason tomorrow would be better, all ears

As Nareth takes the rope. Thanks. Hopefully going without a light will let me sneak up on whatever's down there. Be ready to pull.

You may progress as far as you like, the spoilers are the different depths. Each spoiler represents approximately fifteen minutes of time. Let me know far you progress.

When Nareth realizes he's running out of rope, he applies a little pressure to tell her to slow down, then takes his own rope and makes a knot to lengeth the rope. When it is securly tied he releases the pressure to let her know she can continue, and when he stops hearing anything he keeps enough pressure on the rope that he can feel her moving, so in case she suddenly stops hopefully he can feel it.

Oh shoot, oh shoot. If only we had animal messenger. A few questions, what kind of weapons are there? Are all the weapons human-sized, or is there a mix? Is there anything distinctive about them? There were no other openings into the tunnel I came down, correct? Are there any other openings into this room? Tracks on the floor? Where is the dim light coming from? Any tracks?

As Hammas makes her way deeper into the hole, Now what the hell is going on? This isn't any animal burrow? Really hope I don't prove that wizard right. At least it doesn't look like whatever is here uses the tunnel very much.

Reaching the room, Hammas crouches as low in the tunnels as possible, carefully examining the room for any more clues. She then waits for a few minutes to see if anything comes into the room. I'm in the rabbit hole for sure this time. Based on the description of the tunnel joining the room, it sounds like she might be able to get improved cover. Eyes peaking up just enough to see what is going on.

If she can't learn anything else and nothing enters the room, Hammas gives the rope two firm tugs and begins making her way back to the surface. Rope should help with the climb checks.

Feeling the two tugs, Nareth begins hauling the rope up at a steady pace, helping Hammas make her way out

Dim light is from the eight inch 'door', Longspear, greatsword, 2 longbows, 2 short spears, eight daggers, 4 shortswords. No tracks, no other doors/openings, or passages.

The smell is coming from something moving towards you. As your head dips below the edge of the tunnel wall, you realize it is some sort of fey. Atomie maybe, but different. The source of the insect smell is also getting nearer, along with a the slight buzz of wings.

just as you are beginning to re-enter the tunnel, backwards, (there is not enough room to turn around without entering the room), you hear a very small voice, "Hold on right there, bandit! What are you doing in my home?" The word 'bandit' drips from the speakers tongue almost like poison.

What language is it speaking in?

Giving the rope a tug. Hopefully he stops pulling. Replying in the same language, making an effort to be polite. Apologies for disturbing you. I found this hole and smelled humans. It seemed odd to me, so I came to see what was inside. I am no thief and meant no harm. Please forgive the intrusion.

Cocking his head to one side at the pull, he stops pulling her up "I think she found something else"

Common.

The atomie steps out of the shadows, and gestures to the main room, "If you are not in fact a bandit, then you would take a moment to speak to me. I see you have raided my berry patch."

Watching you closely, the creature asks, "Would you mind terribly if I made you a little more comfortable?"

Gods, in the rabbit hole for sure this time.

Thank you. I would be pleased to accept your hospitality as a guest, so long as it isn't permanent.

The atomie smiles and waves her hands for a moment while mumbling, and suddenly you find yourself reduced to the size of a gnome! "There, now you can actually stand in here.

Retreating across the cavern casually, the small faerie takes a seat on a small pile of fungus. 'First things first. Thank you for burying Rizzelda. She would not have liked to become rat food. I am a little saddened you did not keep your word and help us. We could have gotten rid of both of them! Now we have an angry widow of a troll to worry about. C'est la vie. So why are you down here if you are not a bandit? And if you are not a bandit, what are you. you certainly look like bandits."

*Wince* Yeah, about that. Haven't actually had a chance to bury/cremate the grig yet. She's still in my pockets up above. We found this place while looking for a campsite and Hammas was going to do it on her watch. The announcement to the fey was back when it looked like four of us would have attacked. Meant to retcon that. It's fine though.

Hammas looks around nervously. Being magically shrunk in a fey's home doesn't sit well.

Wincing at the reminder of false promises, Hammas hangs her head. I would be most grateful if you didn't require my life as an oath-breaker. To make amends, I will hunt the she-troll. Once I find her den, it should be fairly simple. Do you know if she's littered?

I am Hammas a hunter and trapper of the River Kingdoms from near Outsea. My wanderings have taken me to the Kamelands and I thought to spend the winter here, in part, hoping to trap a troll. As for coming to your home, it is as I said. The tunnel seemed odd and I smelled humans. It made me curious and I came to investigate.

As for the others above, they are not bandits. They are agents of the Swordlords of Restov, sent to enforce Brevoy's claim to this land. They do not seem to know the River Freedoms, or the old ways.

"Fair enough, I aim to speak to them as well then. Off you go! You will return to your normal size when you leave the tunnels." A shrill whistle follows your talk, and the atomie quickly and deftly mounts a rather large dragon fly. Clearly, she is waiting to follow you out.