Thank you for letting me play for a bit, and good luck to everyone in the future.
Oh, wow, a sudden goodbye. I was actually planning to start interacting with your character more directly, but now but I suppose that won't be necessary anymore. Well Balrog it was nice having you along even if it was only for a single arc of this campaign. Good luck to you in your future games as well.
This makes my next decision a bit easier. I'll be learning a new spell now.
While Drot stayed behind at the keep, Tesswyn returned to the farming village. Her time in the militia had left her feeling uncomfortable around soldiers, besides which she had no interest in being constrained by regimens and having to follow orders.
She tried to make an honest living over the next few months, but things just didn't work out that way. The village was a self-sufficient one, and had no need of a shopkeeper. Though she was initiated in the Old Faith, her acerbic demeanor didn't lead itself well to proselytizing. So she fell back on old habits, picking pockets and filching small items in order to make enough coin to scrape by.
Tesswyn watched with bitter envy as her companions' fortunes flourished. Barlog even built his own house and retired, the damn dwarf! Even if Tesswyn could afford such luxury, the Seer's "gift" wouldn't allow her to rest easy. The old nightmares of her father had gone, but each night now was plagued with disturbing visions, half-glimpsed futures invariably filled with horror and despair. They left her surly and irritable during the daytime--more so than usual, at any rate.
One day, she happened upon a small dog wandering in the woods. Tesswyn attempted to befriend the little critter, only to have it viciously attack her, nearly biting her fingers off! She kicked the mutt and ran off, but it followed her home. What followed was a week of misery. The damn dog would wait outside of the small hovel Tesswyn had rented for her to emerge, then would charge at her, snarling, yipping, and nipping at her heels. At the end of the hellish ordeal, Tesswyn finally managed to stuff it into a sack and dragged it over to the keep, dropping it at Drot's feet. "Here! This f%+%ing dog's as angry as you are. You should be friends." Then she stalked off.
As winter began, Tesswyn observed the passing of her nineteenth birthday by getting smashed at the local tavern. A handsome young man seemed to have taken a liking to her, so she brought him home, anticipating completing the transition from girl to woman. But it soon became apparent he had other plans when he tried to plunge a dagger into her heart. Because of course the only reason a man would be interested in her would be as a virgin sacrifice to the Demon Lord. She smashed in his skull and left his corpse on Barlog's front lawn, a gift of fertilizer for his garden. "F~@$ing cultists," she muttered.
The winter was a harsh one, and Tesswyn's meager home did little to stave off the cold. She spent most nights shivering under threadbare blankets, and each day trying to scrape together enough bits to keep food on her table. One day, while trudging through the snow-covered plains around the town, she happened upon a wagon that had been buried by a recent blizzard. Inside, she found the frostbitten remains of a family, their frozen corpses huddled together in a vain attempt to keep warm. After a brief moment of sorrow, the rogue rifled through their pockets, taking the few bits that she found. She also discovered a music box that, when opened, played a sad, sad song.
Tesswyn listened to that song over and over, its sorrowful melody tugging at her heart. She laid in her bed, and thought of everything that had happened to her, and all the tragedies that were likely yet to come, and she wept. "This f+!!ing song!" she cried.
Wallowing in disappointment and despair. That's how Tesswyn spent half of a year.
The days since their return from the fort and the burning of the tower were filled with contemplation and busy weeks for Charles. The work of securing a new supply life line for the defenders at Bleak's Faste, and of running the supply shipments to and from the fort. He decided instead to settle down in the village and began a familiar trend of removing peoples sicknesses and other ailments helped him to get acquainted with the farming community.
One day while on supply run to the fort, he'd gotten himself hurt fending off an ambush by a handful of Fomor. His new armor kept the worst of the attacks at bay, but he'd found that he could not freely use his power of faith to heal himself. Although the traditional magic spells he'd learned still seemed to work just fine. Charles had suspected it for some time, that something had changed for him since that day at the tower when they'd lit the fires, now he knew it. Testing it had revealed it was still possible to heal others in that way, Drot'ook notwithstanding.
"So, my soul is stained now too. What can I do?" the question nagged at him.
His prayers to the New God or Astrid for guidance went unanswered for weeks. So early one morning after he'd delivered a shipment to the fort he got up by himself and returned to the burned commune's tower. The gates were still partially open from that day. Charles felt a pain in his chest upon seeing it again. But he pressed on. Checking inside of the commune's walls he saw a strange sight. There at the base of the ruined tower lay a strange flower. At first he thought the plants were attempting to grow back but as he got close he saw that this strange red flower with an otherworldly allure was very different from the ones he'd seen before. It had only just begun to bloom and grew from ashy looking vines. And then without really understanding why he plucked up the flower. As he did a sudden gust of wind picked up and the ashy vines suddenly crumbled into soot.
"I suppose that where there's a will there's a way."
He returned to his home with the flower, he expected it to die within a day or two yet weeks passed, then a month The flower looked as fresh as the moment he'd picked it. He couldn't explain why but the flower remained like that. He purchased a glass vase for it and kept it as a center piece in his room. But after he set it down, whenever he looked at it, memories of the day flooded back to him. Those memories caused him to hurt all over again with echoes of the pain he felt and then remember Tesswyn's stinging words. It brought back earlier memories too.
He was far from the same person when he was younger, he'd seen the fringes of court, he'd been a servant, a squire, then a wanderer, a man of the cloth, a preacher, he'd even become a crusader on a mission from his god. Now instead of any of that he spent part of the months working the fields with other farmers and became used to a more common type of life. He strengthened his body through hard work, he took on a common saying of the farmers, 'Always with one foot forward.' It was a simple saying but he liked it.
He did not speak of the New God quite so much during this time. In fact he started speaking less and less even to the others. He told himself it was just bad timing in getting up too early, having to do too much work in a day, or too much distance when there wasn't a need for supplies to the defenders fort. Since Drot'ook had taken up residence within Bleak's Faste and so he only saw the Orc when he took to supply runs. Balrog had seemingly been busy with building himself a new home. Tesswyn, seemed to be around less and less during the days.
The months went by, he turned 21, not that he celebrated in any way. No one except him knew in the town anyway. After the fall harvest he began venturing out a little more often to hunt after Fomor in the area. He claimed a number of bounties and he bought himself a better place to live. It was bigger, warmer, and all around nicer than anything he'd had in recent times.
As the winter months came to an end Drot'ook was another year wiser and stronger. He learned much and helped many, but no one at the fort felt like family like Tess and Charles did.
This was compounded when Tesswyn appeared at the barracks and dropped a thrashing sack at his feet. He was happy to see her and began to exclaim everything he had done and thought these last few months but she trudged off at blinding speeds. The sack burst open and a strange hound emerged. The dog stared at the towering Orc and began to growl, suddenly charging at him. Impressed with its courage but unwilling to let such a small thing get the better of him, he closed a huge hand around its mouth, grabbing its snout. The dog was shocked that something actually stood against it and continued to charge Drot every time he was freed from the crushing grip.
After a few dozen attempts the hound was exhausted and finally tried to escape only to be swept up into the Orc's arms, taken into a warm room and given food. Maybe this isn't so bad it thought. After they made fast friends the dog followed Drot around everywhere he went, hating nearly everyone he came into contact with that didn't immediately falter to the Orc's authority. Upon stern instruction he tended to not try and bite people too much... Sometimes... If he was tired. Drot would often watch the small pup chew, ravage and destroy the toys made for him. So much hate was inside this animal... Staring at its black head, Drot chuckled; Heh, we both have just a little evil, a little corruption in us. He replayed their introduction in his head and realized he had missed the look on Tesswyn's face; one of grief, helplessness, betrayal, and desperation. In that moment a decision had been made.
His new companion A. William Scott was a nice addition to his family but it reminded him of the void he felt from his friends being away for so long. With all of his belongings packed and goodbyes said Drot awaited for the next shipment Charles delivered to the fort. Happy to see his good friend Drot forgot about the nature of his pet and had to scramble to stop him from attacking the young clergyman. After an apology and quick command for the dog to vacate, the Orc embraced his brother and began filling in Charles of all he'd done, thought, and felt since the last time they saw each other. He told of he's mild feelings about his corruption, how he was worried about Tess' sadness and how he wanted to return with Charles to the village. Assuming all is well, he loads his gear onto the cart and they make their way toward home.
Tesswyn grumbles groggily when she is awakened by a knock on the door. "Go away!" she groans. The knocking is insistent, though, and she eventually drags herself out of bed. She stumbles to the door and throws it open, glaring at Charles and Drot on the other side. Her hair and clothes are disheveled, and there are streaks from tears through the grime on her face. Based on the smell, she hasn't bathed in some time either.
"Well? What do you want?" she says impatiently.
With the growing need for a stable guard force and caravan guards to haul supplies, Charles recalled that Daphiel had been the most experienced with that and recommended her. Supplies had been brought back with them and while he didn't have a direct hand in the day to day management of that, Charles had helped to train some of the initial people and make sure nothing too serious occurred when training got out of hand.
Having the now slowly growing local militia come to him for healing, and when they needed to make supply runs he was arguably the best person to have along. Daphiel came to see him sometimes to ensure he came. Getting out of his weekly routine of simply living as a farmer had been good for Charles.
Seeing his friend Drot'ook at the fort raised his spirits as it always did. He noticed the angry looking terrier with some trepidation as it barked loudly while growling and tried to bite him, thankfully he wore his gloves most days now.
"Well he's a lively one, isn't he?"
The return trip consisted of Charles telling Drot'ook of his recent developments. Finally moving into a larger house, training with the militia, what he'd managed to stock up for the winter, and other more menial things in his life. But the winter months had made him more sullen than usual and he told Drot'ook his worries about what had happened regarding the tower.
"Drot'ook, can I tell you something that I haven't told anyone else yet?" Without really waiting for him to respond he spoke. "That day we lit the tower on fire, those screams still haunt me, something broke within me. I can't heal myself with my faith anymore. I mean, it's not like it's abandoned me or anything, I can still heal others but it's harder now.
I've been busying myself with all kinds of work the last few months to try and forget but it's just not working."
Charles stood knocking on the outside Tesswyn's house with Drot'ook. He had gotten a tan working the fields and his hair was longer now. He didn't really bother to groom himself much these days but his clothes were washed every few days and from the days of wearing heavy armor and training he had a sturdier build than before.
When she finally answered the door, Charles smiled at seeing Tesswyn for the first time in a while but when he got a glimpse of the inside of her house and her disheveled look he paused. Part of him started to say a very sarcastic remark about not expecting guests but her biting questions cut him off. He then really took a look at the state of her house.
His eyes picked up on a dark spot on the floor. Is that dried blood?
He then looked at her and saw that she really did not look well. What happened to her?
Suddenly a pang of guilt shot through him as he realized that she had been living this poorly on her own and he had been nearby not given any real effort to see her in months.
"Hi Tesswyn." he began hesitantly. "It's been a while. I ran into Drot who came back with me on the last supply shipment from Bleake's Faste. He said we should all get together again. Would you like to come have dinner with us at my house this evening?"
Tesswyn narrows her eyes at Charles. After a long pause, she sighs. "Fine. I'll be there. That all?"
Charles was biting his tongue and gave her a searching gaze. But then he shook his head as a torrent of questions came out. "No, that's not all Tesswyn. How have you been doing? Are you alright?
When I went to practice learning medicine with Paul he said he hadn't seen you in a while.
And didn't Daphiel come and offer you a chance to be a part of the supply wagons? I mean we all know you're skilled enough to have helped with the militia training.
And, and is that a blood spot on your floor?! If you were hurt why didn't you come see me?"
"Yep, I'm perfectly fine," Tesswyn says sarcastically. "It's not like a cultist tried to sacrifice me to the Demon Lord or anything. Oh, wait. That did happen. That and a whole crock of other s!@!. But you were too busy with your head up your own ass to even notice!"
She stalks forward and presses a finger accusingly into the priest's chest. "How many months has it been, Charles? Did you even think about me during all this time? Couldn't even be bothered to check in for a how-do-you-do? Do you even really want to have dinner with me, or do you just feel guilty? Or are you just trying to earn some points with your bloody New God?"
Tesswyn glares up at the taller man. "It's not my blood, Charles. I don't need your help, or your pity. I can handle my own s%&*. Maybe you shouldn't stick your nose where it doesn't belong."
What Tesswyn said hurt. He opened his mouth to speak more than once but when she finished he knew she was right. He hadn't really tried, he could have but he didn't.
But he finally saw something in her anger he hadn't seen before. She felt alone and she was angry at being abandoned.
"I had no idea you'd been attacked.
But it's been four months, Tesswyn. It's been four months since I last saw you. Your right, I could have seen you. I thought about it a lot, I thought about you a lot too. I even tried one evening but you weren't here.
I heard you were around, kept thinking I'd maybe run into you but it just never happened. Kept working, supply runs, training the militia, learning medicine, healing people, working the fields. My god has nothing to do with why I'm here but you're right, I do feel guilty about leaving you alone for so long.
Sorry for worrying about you, I guess you were really fine after all."
As Drot listened to his friends bicker he didn't know what to say, he was never good at this kind of thing. He remembered what he'd seen others do in this type of situation and decided to act!
In one swift motion he swooped down and snatched up the smaller human into a tight grasp, what he would consider a hug.
"Of course that's not all Tesswyn, I should have been here, should have been around. I'm sorry, Please forgive me."
He refused to let her go until she responded, knowing that this might be the only way he would get a real reaction out of her.
His little dog, having been sitting several yards behind them, was not happy about the the situation and ran up to growl at the Tess but a swift, but light, kick from Drot sent the pup back to his place.
"I learned a lot from the fort but even though my life there was going well, I wasn't happy, you and Charles were so far away. We are a family here, whether you like it or not. hehha."
Tesswyn gasps as Drot does something truly unexpected--he hugs her! "Let go of me!" she protests, squirming in his grasp. She punches at his chest and kicks him in the crotch, but he refuses to release her.
Finally, something inside of Tesswyn breaks. She begins to sob, leaning her head against the hulking orc's chest. Her shoulders shake and hot, fresh tears roll down her cheeks. "I was all alone... It was so f$~#ing hard, and you weren't here," she chokes out. "You weren't... Please don't leave me again. I need you. Both of you."
Charles was just as surprised as Tesswyn when Drot'ook moved forward to hug her. It was when she broke down and began to tell them how she really felt that Charles began to feel like a coward. He'd known, he'd known how she felt but he'd been unable to bring himself to do anything directly about it.
Thank you Drot'ook. For having the courage to do what I couldn't.
He let out a sigh and began to laugh.
"We won't, Tesswyn. We won't let that happen again." [I]Even as he spoke, he felt as though months of trepidation and doubt that had been creeping into his mind began to slip away. These two were his friends and no matter what abrasive nature they might have with each other, they would find a way through it together.
Tesswyn wipes at her eyes and gives Charles an appraising look. "You look good. You been working out?"
Drot sets down his friend and shakes his head, a shine in his eyes betraying his emotion.
"From here on out, you won't be able to get rid of us even if you wanted to!
Come on now, let's head to Charles' home. We can start on the food while you get yourself cleaned up, the Orc slums didn't smell as bad as you do!"
Drot lets out a hearty bellow, feeling better then he has for months. He turns to see his pup in an aggressive stance, rolling his eyes he snaps his finger and the dog and it runs behind the cart with his tail tucked.
"I never got the thank you for this little guy. He's a lot better now, there's a lot of work to do still but he's finally learning to trust. We're all walking the same path, it seems."
The day is pleasant as you walk back to Charles' place. While still cool, the sun is shining and the snows are melting. Children laugh and play, kicking a ball around as they run back and forth in the snowy fields.
People are generally happy in the village. With the set up of the trade route between the farm and the keep, work has been plentiful and profitable. Having some local guards has kept the people protected. While there was a Fomor attack or two, they were quickly put down.
All this prosperity and happiness is showing in the faces of the people.
With the coming of spring, farmers are starting to prepare their fields. The extra work has required extra hands, and with extra hands, there's extra people. Shops are starting to form. A blacksmith focuses on tools, horseshoes, and other farming equipment. Even a bakery opened up!
Daphiel was elected Sheriff.
Things are going good.
Tesswyn sticks her tongue out at Drot. "I may stink like orc s*~#, but at least I don't look like it! Can't say the same for you!" She manages a short laugh.
Still, the general cheeriness of the town grates on her, and she becomes sullen and withdrawn again on the way to Charles's house. She mercifully agrees to bathe and clean up, washing the grime from her body. A clean set of clothes goes a long way to making Tesswyn feel human again. There's still even further to go until she recovers from her depression, though.
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Charles looked at himself, he hadn't really noticed too much. "I suppose I have been out working the fields and training with the soldiers some has done me a bit of good."
By the time they got back to his house Charles realized he hadn't really had time to set anything up. The affair was a pleasant wooden structure with 10 ft. high ceilings with seven rooms that fit to Charles taste.
"I wasn't exactly expecting company when I got back from my last trip.
I'll be making most of the food tonight, but don't go expecting anything too fancy. Boiled potatoes, beef stew with carrots, and some bread from the bakery. Feel free to look around. I'm going to run and get some water. If Tesswyn gets here before I get back Let her know where I've gone."
Perception checkA signet ring lies near the bottom. A symbol of a noble house is clearly marked.
In the corner a chest lies open with various bits of gear strewn out. Several shelves line the walls. A small circular table takes up another corner with a single chair. A desk with a comfy looking writing chair and what appears to be a writing quill and ink sit, properly placed but looking unused for some time sit against the far wall. On the center of the table is a glass vase with a strange red flower with thorns, it seems to have an otherworldly allure to it.
After cleaning up, Tesswyn puts on one of the new dresses she got from the soldiers at the keep. It's simple and functional, but much better than the threadbare rags she had worn for most of the past two years. Her hair has gotten long, since she never bothered to cut it. She pulls the excess into a bun atop her head, while the rest falls to the small of her back.
Noticing Charles's absence, she of course take the opportunity to poke around his house and rifle through his belongings. The signet ring doesn't escape her notice, and by the time he returns, she's sitting on the counter in the kitchen, idly making the ring dance on the backs of her knuckles.
"A nice little trinket you've got here. Who'd you steal it from?"
Charles smiled at Tesswyn as he saw her there but his smile faltered as she spoke and when he realized what she was holding.
"Tesswyn, you look nice and I'm glad you're here, but I'm less happy that you went through my things. Give that back to me." he set down the bucket of water he was holding and stepped forward with his hand outstretched to her.
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Tesswyn lifts her hand over her head and smirks. "If you didn't want me to find it, you shouldn't have left it at the bottom of your trunk. I'll give it back after you tell me where you got it. You owe me for these last few months."
His hand fell and a small growl of annoyance escaped him.
"Yes. Of course, what was I thinking? Leaving it at the bottom of a chest for just anyone to find."
Does she have to be so smug about it? But I guess she is right. I do owe her.
"Alright, fine. I'll trust you not to tell anyone else this." He hesitated a moment before beginning. Crossing his arms he leaned against the wall, looking out a window. "I didn't steal it if that's what you mean. That belonged to a youth by the name of Charlemange Pelleron. He was a hard headed idiot with a big mouth who said the wrong things to the wrong people. But I think his heart was in the right place. And then thanks to his cold-hearted bastard of a father he died in a ditch, starving, alone,and without anything other than his name. By now I'm sure you can probably guess that my name wasn't always Charles."
Tesswyn lets out a low whistle. Charlemange. Sounds like a pretentious prick. So... I guess your story checks out, then. That means, what, you're like a secret prince or something? You gonna recruit us to take back your name and castle and bring about a promised time of peace, s*@+ like that?"
Charles was surprised by Tesswyn's response. "A prince, wouldn't that be nice. But no. He's a lord, not a king. Plus, that wasn't my intention. I never thought to go back. Alabaster was among the worst people I'd ever met but he wasn't alone in how he acted to those he saw beneath him. I have three brothers too, not that I ever met them really.
It's possible. There is a trial by combat one can undertake but... no. I don't have any intention of returning."
"Good. I like you as Charles. You don't need a fancy name and title to be your best self. You're doing just fine," Tesswyn says. She slips off of the counter and flicks the ring towards Charles.
"Now come on, let's make dinner. What do you need me to do?"
at least I don't look like it! Can't say the same for you!
"Looking like me isn't so bad! It's a lot easier to "
Although they may have see the Orc before the children playing were caught off guard by the bellowing growl of the large monster. They all screamed, a couple ran and one of them even started to cry.Drot blushed and picked up his pace slightly, somewhat embarrassed but still laughing at his prank.
"Even scarier then I thought, haha. I hope I didn't scar them for life!"
working the fields and training with the soldiers some has done me a bit of good.
"A bit of good? Look at yourself!" Drot grabs the man by his forearm and lifts it into the air, causing Charles to stand on his tip-toes. Drot points at his friend's bicep and flexes his own.
"You're just as strong as me now Charles! There isn't a man for miles that could take you!"It's easy to see that the Orc is overflowing with joy, just walking. When he sees Tesswyn's mood waiver Drot began to think of something to do to cheer her up but they had already arrived at Charles' home and he began showing them around.
"Nothing left to do but wait for the stew to get done, this should be enough for supper to finish, then dinner and then breakfast tomorrow!"
Drot comes through the door with a whole bunch of wood under his arm and puts it away.
"You look like a regular human now, Tesswyn, feeling better?.. Everything alright Charles? You look irritated; let me guess, Tess hid hid all of your weapons and money?"
He laughs and shakes his head while he tests if the stew is done.
You hear a high pitched scream coming from the other side of the village. It's quickly followed by multiple other screams.
Gärwin rode up to Charles' home, having run just a little over on his patrol. Drot'ook had been so kind as to invite him, and he was running late! This won' dew at all, yer supposed to be a knight now, right 'n proper. What would the Baroness say? Nuttin' good I reckon'.
Getting off his horse, Gärwin rummages through his pack and grabs a bottle of whiskey, a little gift for new friends. Before he's able to even approach the front door, a piercing scream echoes across the village. Surprised, the dwarf drops the bottle, shattering it. Several more screams join the first as Gärwin smashes his fist against the door, knocking loud enough to wake the dead.
Oi' Lads, looks like we got trouble! Get suit'd up and meet me by the chaos!
Sliding his shield onto his arm and adjusting his helmet, the dwarf leapt back onto his horse and took off towards the sounds. I hope this isn't what I think it is.
Charles glanced over as Drot'ook came back inside. "Yes, I've no idea where anything is anymore."
He started to set the table when the screaming begin.
"Oh no!" he said and began to make his way toward his room when he heard the pounding on the door and the somewhat muffled voice on the other side.
"What?! Drot'ook who is that?" he called back as he continued making his way to his bedroom to grab his gear.
In a similar state of alert, Drot rushes for his weapon he left in the entrance. Though puzzled by the knock, he was able to answer his friend's question.
"A friend, and we'll be right behind him on our way! Hurry now!"
Drot opens the door just in time to see the armored Dwarf gallop away. He smiles at the notion that his comments rang true; the dwarf and he may fight together on the field, sooner then he thought even!
Leave your f++&ing armor, Charles, and let's go! Tesswyn says to Charles as she runs outside.
Gärwin is the first to arrive, followed by Tesswyn and then Drot. Some minutes later, Charles arrives, fully armored and ready to face any challenge.
As you run outside, you can see other people running towards the screams as well. When you get to the other side, there a gigantic wolf, easily 8 feet at the shoulder. The wolf is pacing back and forth, as if it is waiting for something to happen. On occasion, you see a shimmer between you and it, as if there is a gigantic force field holding it back. A crowd starts to develop, watching the scene. You hear some names being called out - parents calling for their children as tbey try to get them away and back home. Others stay and watch the strange scene.
As Tesswyn admonished Charles from the kitchen he started to call out.
No, wait Tesswyn I-... could use your help actually." he finished by muttering to himself as he heard the retreating footsteps.
As he saw the crowd Charles pushed his way through to the front and was shocked as he saw the beast. "A wolf... no a dire wolf. Why is it this big? Though he didn't understand what was keeping the thing at bay he counted their luck that it had not attacked yet. He then looked at the others who must have been there for well over a minute.
"Why didn't you tell these people to disperse already?" he said through a voice directed to them.
He turned back to address the crowd. "Everyone, get inside the nearest buildings and take shelter. I don't know where this thing came from or what's keeping it from attacking. But what I do know are predators, and this one is hunting!"
Despite the Dwarf's best intentions, his horse was less than eager to face a giant wolf in combat. It veered away from the scene as soon as it saw the hungry beast. "Helvete!" cursed Gärwin as he tried to calm his frightened horse. Eventually, the knight managed to wrestle the frightened mare to a hitching post some distance away.
Gärwin is quick to recognize the wolfen creature, but has no knowledge of what the shimmering light could be. Shield up and sword at the ready, he watches the wolf carefully. Gärwin matches its movements but keeps himself a short distance away, ready to strike. "I'm keepin' an eye on this one, 'e'll not get past me.
Keeping the wolf in the corner of his eye, Gärwin looks around for the source of the shimmering light. "Somethin' must be causin' this field! Keep yer eyes open!"
As Drot comes into view of the beast he slows his pace, his eyes go wide and his mind starts to race. He continues toward the animal and takes a place about 10ft behind his Dwarven companion.
A wolf for certain but at that size? Where could that have come from so suddenly?
And what's this? It's like a force field but... In a much more liquid state?
"Yes, yes, Charles! A dire wolf is right, but this is much larger still. I'd wager it's an alpha and possibly from the Fae realm!
That means this shimmering field of magic may be a division point between our material plain and that of the Fae Kingdom. If the two realms align this field will dissipate and that behemoth will unleash itself upon us! "
Drot's dog follows him into the field and start yapping at the wolf.
Folks shake out of their reverie once the shouting starts. Daphiel moved in and takes over crowd control.
Come on folks! Move it! Go on home! The puppy ain't going nowhere and if it does we don't want anyone hurt. Let's go! Come on! She and her deputies start corraling people away. Soon, there's only a few guards and the four of you.
As time goes on, the force field moves, or shifts, or slides... Something. One end seems to be disappearing as the other end appears. You can see the other world moving past, as if you were watching through a window of a slow moving train.
The wolf moves with the window. It stares at you, pacing with impatience. It paws at the field, trying to press through. An hour passes. Then another.
Drot's dog's incessant barking picks up pace.
Then, it happened. From the other side, a blast came out of the darkness from woods beyond the wolf and hit the field, shattering it. Fragments of force fell like glass, dissipating into thin air as mist in the breeze.
The wolf charges, full sprint towards you. Behind him, shadows sneak, crawl, and slither into your world and spread out, escaping into the world. One of those shadows grabs a boy who was trying to sneak a peak. Tesswyn starts full sprint after him. Get the wolf! she yells, I've got this!
"Gather around, quick!" Charles says as he begins uttering a prayer.
"May the new god's will shelter us from the malignant powers and give us strength to vanquish our foes."
As the shield drops, Gärwin belts out his best battle cry and charges the wolf.
Fast Init
PCs:
Before Drot and Gärwin react, Charles casts Prayer and grants everyone Boon to all Attack and Challenge Rolls for six rounds.
Gärwin charges the beast.
Gärwin's sword cuts into the wolf, leaving behind trails of blood.
Drot casts his Harm spell at the same time.
Enemies:
The dire wolf, having a crunchy meal right in front of him, bits down on Gärwin! The beast stands easily twice as tall as the knight, towering over him.
The wolf's jaws wrap around Gärwin, digging into his flesh. It tears back and forth, trying to knock the knight down.
Seeing how dangerous the Dire Beast was, Charles prayed for a moment.
"By the radiance of your divine light, blind this beast of another realm." as he spoke a ball of bright blue light filled his hands and then shot out out at the Beast, flashing within its eyes.
Thinking quickly, Gärwin uses his shield to bash the wolf over the nose. The stunned wolf drops it's prey, who lands with surprising grace for one so bulky. Shaking their combined blood off of himself, the dwarf goes in for another hit.
"What's tha matter, beastie? Dwarf meat too tough for you?!" Gärwin exploits his short stature to aim right at the creature's softer underbelly.
Drot utters a word that his companion Charles may not recognize, but there is a familiar cadence in it, clumsy and jagged.
""
As he speaks the word he grimaces and and feels his blood get hot, at the same time the wolf's flesh begins to rip open in long lines down its back, sides and neck.
Drot's eyes flare with the rage of battle. He throws his hand forward, concentrating the energy around him and throwing it at the hound.
"Iaculum"
He dashes forward and takes up position just out of range of the wolf, to the side of Gärwin.
Fast PCs
Drot and Gärwin hammer the oversized beast with magic and steel, while Charles summons the holy light of the Martyr to blind it.
The beast panics and lashes out, thrashing at anyone close in a blinf panic before backing away.
The dire wolf jaws snap at thing air as Garwin dodges out of the way. Then the beast moves backwards as much as it can go.
The beast is blinded, bleeding, and hurt. It's backing away back towards the fallen shield, where the two worlds are still partially connected.
Charles watched with some satisfaction as the beast was driven off. He was about to give chase when he remembered the thing that had come moments before.
"Foget the wolf, it's not the real problem! The shadow that let it through, that's what we need to find now! As he yelled, he broke into a sprint, running towards where he'd seen the shadow come from.
When the portal between the realms opened up, multiple shadowy things escaped the fae realm into your world. They're now Shadows, as in the official creature, but rather other critters and creatures who were obscured by the shadows of the environment and you couldn't fully see. They've all fled into the forests surrounding the farm while you were fighting the dire wolf. You can spend some time trying to track them down, if you like, but you'd have to choose which tracks to follow.
The thing (creature, Fae, something?) that fired the blast and destroyed the shield - allowing creatures from the Fae realm to escape - was obscured. You could not see who or what it was. If you want to investigate further, you would have to enter the portal and find them or it. Doing so would remove your character from this adventure, to be returned at the next downtime. This will allow you to explore a new character for a session if you like, and explain a new path for your current character.
The creature from the Fae realm that took the boy is being pursued by Tesswyn, and she will return successful just as soon as Brainiac returns from the cruise.
The purpose of this battle was to have a bit of fun while Tesswyn is out, and to help Gärwin become more familiar with the mechanics and our posting styles.
"That's right! You run, you mangy cur! Go tell 'em all how Gärwin beat you!"
Gärwin stares into the portal as menacingly as he can. When Charles spoke though, the dwarf bolts off in the other direction. I can't keep up wit' these tallfolk, best get my horse.
"Head on without me! I'll catch up soon enough!"
"Charles! Wait! Stop!"
Drot dashes toward his friend, arm out stretched reaching for, howling his concern.
"If you cross that threshold, you could be stuck in the Fae realm forever! You will die in there Charles, let his realm sort him out. We need to clear out the ones that came through to our side or they could corrupt and raise this town to the ground!"
Although Drot was attempting to get close enough so he didn't need to shout, he was not actively trying to stop the man. If he felt he had to go, there was nothing the Orc would, or could, do to stop him.
Charles slowed his run and finally stopped in his tracks as Drot'ook chased after him, calling out for him to stop. The realization he didn't know anything about the other world and had not considered that he might become stuck in the Fae realm forever struck him.
"Thanks for the warning Drot'ook, we'll hunt after the ones that got through. "
He then looked around, determining where the nearest creature may have run off to.