Gameplay. Dot in here.
The Pathfinder Society received a call for help from the Blakros Museum, where intruders tripped the many defences and barricaded themselves inside the building. Upon overcoming these safeguards, they encountered Medda and her Twinhorn warriors. Medda was willing to discuss the Kellids’ reason for attacking. Valsin was angered to learn that museum agents resorted to theft to gain relics and promised Medda that Pathfinders would accompany them back to the Tusk Mountains to return the hilt.
The Pathfinders secured passage for their convoy through the Hold of Belkzen and fought off renegade tribes’ raiders.
However, they arrived at the Twinhorn encampment too late; Eshimka’s forces had begun flooding through a portal at the standing stones. The Pathfinders needed to fight back the undead and close the rift. Once sealed, they learned that the attack left an extraplanar scar. Expecting an even greater invasion the next solstice, the Pathfinders must prepare to defeat Eshimka and end the threat forever.
The Society members followed in the footsteps of the paladin Ivvora, seeking the place where she died battling a powerful white dragon. There, Medda hoped to commune with Ivvora in the afterlife, learning how to reforge the broken dagger or create a new weapon to destroy Eshimka. In the process, those present had to fight the new generations of white dragons and their kobold servitors who inhabited the area.
Now preparations are being made to travel to an ancient battlefield where Ivvora and her comrades fought against an overwhelming undead force.
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The long journey south from the slopes of the Tusk Mountains to the edge of Fangwood took several weeks, during which many of the Twinhorns and Pathfinders exchanged ancestral stories and tales of daring adventures to pass the time on the relatively uneventful trek. By the time the Fangwood rises ahead in the brisk morning air, both groups are eager to confront whatever lies ahead.
Medda addresses the crowd gathered before her. “South of here lies a battlefield where the paladin Ivvora risked her life in a daring ploy to help her battalion defeat an undead horde. For her selflessness, Ivvora earned a token of Vildeis’s favor: the dagger she used to deal a terrible blow to Eshimka! For all the crusaders’ heroism, I can sense an undead taint lingered here, and that stretch of the Fangwood has expanded in the centuries since to absorb it. It is now our turn to earn Vildeis’s blessing, risking ourselves to end this threat so that in turn we might slay Eshimka once and for all.
“The terrain favors small groups over larger formations, so we shall divide into smaller groups to navigate the forest and identify the corruption’s heart. May Ivvora’s example guide us to victory!” With that, Medda and her phantom Anok turn and enter the Fangwood, followed by Pathfinder and Twinhorn teams that fan out behind her.
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Nyshka is a tiefling paladin of the goddess Chaldira, a deity of luck, battle, and mischief of her adopted halfling community. Around her neck she wears a rabbits foot good luck charm and a small holy symbol in the form of a notched shortsword. Her own weapon isn't so small, a large falchion.
"I can only hope to be so lucky to face off against such an overwhelming army of unrepentantly evil foes! Here's hoping these deadbags don't disappoint!"
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An older man, perhaps in his mid- to late 40's, steps into the group. His long white hair is pulled into a slightly disheveled ponytail, and he sports a relatively fresh shiner on one eye. The other eye is bloodshot and has a bag under it; one would assume the other eye would too, if it were not currently swollen. He's clearly hungover.
Despite this, he stands straight-backed and at parade rest. His plain gray uniform (he wears no armor) is about as well-tended as one can hope to make one's clothing on a multi-day trek through the wilderness. A battered but well-tended leather scabbard holds an Aldori dueling sword, and his small pack looks to carry little within.
He gives a small, easy smile and nod to the group. At Nyshka's words, he shrugs slightly and speaks with a Brevoyan accent that has become somewhat muddled with the decades. "I don't seek glory, just something for these old bones to do. I'd prefer to see you and everyone else come out the other side of this mission alive. I'll do what I can to aid in that endeavor."
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A young man with long black hair and mildly hansom face joins the group. He looks of average height and build. The only thing remarkable about him is his fancy looking leather armor, a sword strapped to the left side of his belt and a book hanging from the right side of his belt.
"More undead. Seem to be running in a lot of those lately. Good thing I have the perfect spell for them." He chuckles.
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A young man, his Orc ancestry apparent only in the shape of his ears and nose and the small tusks stays near the rear of the party. He is lightly armored but has various light weapons stowed about his person along with a heavy flail stuck in a belt loop. He seems to be at ease in the wilderness.
"Meh. Undead. It does not matter.We can handle them. I am called Kato."
Brambles grow wild throughout the edge of the wood where a thick canopy of trees begins to filter out sunlight, turning day into night. The overgrown plant life forbids easy access deeper into the forest and fills the air with the sickly-sweet smell of decay.
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Another member of your group is a woman in the Gray Maiden's armor. During your journey together, you learned her name, more like the nickname - Alecto. This is a beautiful woman whose charm can't be hidden by a few scars, completely bald head, and strange, unsociable manner to keep in the team.
She tries not to show it, but she has a rather strange attitude to her armor. It's like it remind her of something from her past. These memories seem both sweet and painful. She always goes off to put on her armor (and somehow does it herself), but a couple of times you still caught her in moral torment before start dressing up - in a long hike it is difficult to solitude. At this moments you could saw, how she looks at her helmet for a long time, then tries to put it on, and then throws it aside in disgust, almost crying. And after a few minutes she picks it up, strokes it like a beaten kitten, and tries to put it on again...
However, right now Alecto dressed in armor and is determined, and it's not like all of this information made any impression on her. Plume and cloak of purple, blue and black flutters in the wind, and the white fur trim of cloak adds some aristocratic look to her.
- Ahead.
Words. Not a frequent guest, especially when she is in this armor.
Alecto tries to find a way through the brush, but gets slightly enmeshed and needs to take a moment to free herself.
You manage to get through the brambles, but not without some difficulty. Something about this underbrush makes Dark Schnyder and Alecto feel uneasy and a bit "off".
The forest floor is blanketed with eerie dark flowers that paint the otherwise lightless woods with their purple incandescence. Disorienting paths cut through the trees, forward-facing paths
seem to lead back to where they started, and retracing one’s steps leads to unfamiliar terrain. Glowing eyes glare hungrily from within the impenetrable thickets where the vines slowly curl
around anyone who gets too close.
Two creature appear ahead of you. Their eyes are faintly glowing purple and you see that there are purple flowers growing on their bodies. The same flowers can be seen growing in the thickets here. The creatures stand roughly as tall as a human and have antlers growing from their heads.
Initiative
Combat Round 1 - Bold May Act
Caebricalius
Nyshka
Dark
Enemies
Alecto
Kato
Dark sends a ray of frost at the enemies, but in his rush he misses.
Both enemies move toward the group triggering the readied attacks of Cabe and Nyshka.
Cabe slices into the blue enemy.
Nyshka swings her falchion but the red elk dodges out of the way.
Both elk lower their heads and rake with their antlers.
Blue misses while Red hits.
Combat Round 1/2 - Bold May Act
Caebricalius
Nyshka -4
Dark
Enemies (Blue -8, Red -0)
Alecto
Kato
Both Elk fall to your combined assault.
As Cabe, Alecto and Nyshka take a breath the bushes beside them send out tendrils and try to entangle their legs.
The vines grab Alecto and she struggles ineffectually to be freed from them.
Cabe also is grabbed and fails to free himself.
Nyshka is grabbed but reefs herself free, then frees Cabe.
You push deeper into the forest. After about 20 minutes the forest opens to a small clearing that is free of the dark flowers that seem to permeate the rest of the landscape. A ring of tall grey trees circles the clearing, their branches reaching toward each other to form a ceiling of black leaves. A chorus of whispering voices echoes within the clearing as countless faces form out of tree bark only to meld back in, flowing from tree to tree. Three of the faces remain in place and speak out in unison. Who wanders these forlorn paths? Do you seek to join us? Join us!
Nyshka does not detect any evil emanating from the faces on the trees.
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Cabe watches the three face curiously. His hand rests on the pommel of his dueling sword, but he makes no overt moves do draw it forth. He glances at Kato, then back to the three faces, focusing on the jovial one. "Good afternoon, friends. I am Caebricalius Melandrus, but you may simply call me Cabe. Most do. What can I call you?"
The calm spirit speaks with Kato in a calm voice, but there seems to be a something simmering beneath the surface. We are spirit centuries who watch the forest. Mother Broodleaf and this Blight must be stopped. Kato cannot make out much about the spirit yet.
The jovial spirit focuses on Cabe. We are so old that we have forgotten our names. And who needs names anyway? It giggles to itself.
The aggressive spirit glares at Nyshka As the others have said we are the spirits of this forest. Why would anything trouble us? This Mother Broodleaf and her Blight are surely not a trouble to us. Nyshka has trouble making out much about the spirit's personality.
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Cabe cocks his head at the jovial face. "Indeed. Your companion" he nods to the calm face "seems troubled by this... Mother Broodleaf. What is she doing that is so troubling? Or at least, troubling to them." Again, he motions toward the calm face. He takes his hand off his dueling sword and clasps his wrist behind his back, standing at parade rest.
Alecto has convinced the calm face to assist the party.
Mother Broodleaf is an orc who is corrupting the wilderness. the calm face tells her.