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The spear and bardiche slip between or get momentarily tangled up in fleshless rib cages.
Clawed hands slash at Gimble.
Apparently the skeletons' hands are still constrained by rusty old manacles, which they only shake loose after completely failing in their attack.
"Whoa! That was too close for comfort, really! Dunno what I can do here, folks, crossbow bolts and knives ain't got anything to cut or stab!"
Gimble withdraws from the melee, double moving behind the wall of pointy and stabby polearms.
I'm not normally a warrior, but i'll give this a shot He fires his Bow
Odd'n charges into the fray as Gimble extracts himself.
Hennie does her best, which isn't all that much, to keep the skeletons off Odd'n.
The skeletons focus their attacks on Odd'n, slashing and clawing at the howling man.
"Retreat past me!" Liv yells at Odd'n. The warrior woman hacks at a skeleton before retreating a couple of steps herself, hopeful that she'll be able to get in another quick attack or three when the bony undead come for her.
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Hennie continues to try keeping the skeletons off Odd'n. "Do you think he knows what he's doing?" she asks her sister.
"Probably not," Liv replies quietly. "The plan was to attack with reach weapons, not jump in there and gnaw on their bones like a mad dog."
"Hope you ladies can hurt them more than I can! My knives won't do squat against those bones. "
Gimble draws a pair of knives and stands ready to stab if possible.
Scipio keeps firing blunted arrows. If one of you is better with a bow than i am your welcome to take my bow, i'm pretty sure these blunted arrows will work better
"I'm not gnawing!" argues Odd'n, who has been foregoing that attack. He smashes one of the last two skeletons.
The last skeleton continues to be all over the big man and finally succeeds in bringing him down.
Livlena tries to drop the last skeleton with a swipe of her bardiche.
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Whatever animating force possessed this last skeleton vanishes and the bones clatter down and return to a state at rest.
You have defeated everything in the Crucible that would oppose you.
Within the ribcage of the one skeleton that didn't animate, perhaps because it held in its bony hands a red-jewelled ring dedicated to the forge-father until you removed it, has three ironbloom mushrooms growing in its ribcage.
"Okay. Seems like we found enough fungi for the potion. What's next on the list? Crazy old forest witch?"
In answer to Gimble's question, Trom points at the body of Odd'n, unconscious on the floor and possibly dying, "I'd say, he's next ..."
"He's not going anywhere for a while. I could stay with him while you get to the eldest tree and the old hag's hut."
if you're certain. Let's gather up and go
Hennie hurries to help Odd'n after she drops her spear, but Trom is there first. He seems to have things well in hand, but she's unsure about his suggestion.
"Are you certain? Can you manage him by yourself?"
We do need to hurry though...
"Well, we will miss your magic and the big man's fists, but if you're sure about it, why not? We can come back on our way back to town, pick you two up and all head back together."
"I'd also like to get a good look at this place in the daylight. I'm for seeing what remains of some of the outreaches of the old kingdoms and this is one. I'd like to get a sense of what it would take to restore this to its former glory before I head back for home," explains Trom.
"Let's visit the old forest witch first. Maybe shell have some soup or something."
Hennie snorts. "I hope we're that lucky Gimble! Let's go see!
She packs away the new mushrooms along with the others.
knowing our luck we'll end up on some quest or having to fight again Scipio fetches Frost and prepares to go.
The area around the Crucible is less imposing today than it was the day before. While yesterday near dusk it seemed the entire forest was watching you approach the Crucible, the entire forest now seems to have taken a step back to let you through, not wanting to impede or offend.
It's about 30 minutes before you hear a bird chirp but then, slowly, the normal sounds of the forest return. You walk for about 2 hours following the old lumber road marked on your maps. Even where the path is overgrown with shrubs, the path is stripped of large trees and it is hard to lose your way.
The road ends at an abandoned lumber camp and then a narrow, winding trail continues on. Old feather and bone fetishes hang from trees about every 10 feet, motionless even when there is a breeze, but suddenly jumping and twisting when there is none. This is definitely the trail to Ulizmila's hut.
The sounds of the forest become suddenly distant as the trees part, opening into a small, almost perfectly circular glade. The nearest stands of pine, silverleaf, and darkwood—all typically sturdy woods—twist away from the clearing, as if bent by some impossibly strong wind or seemingly in an attempt to flee despite their paralyzed roots.
At the glade’s center squats an ugly cottage, little more than a pile of twigs, shoots, and ivy stacked upon mud walls. From the thatched roof dangle bundles of gnarled roots, old dried beast carcasses, and knucklebone bangles, all clattering together like gruesome wind chimes. A dozen small thatched fetishes—each shaped like a tiny man, imp, or rearing serpent—stand propped in the yard, keeping guard before a rickety plank door
"Well...doesn't this look inviting!" Livlena quips with a light clap of her hands. "I assume we just go up and knock?" she inquires a bit more seriously of the others.
Looking at her twin, Liv frowns. "Might seeing the two of us side-by-side freak the witch out?"
"Nah, those kids weren't freaked out, they were amused. Besides they were kids, this woman's a witch so probably wise. I don't see how she couldn't know what twins are. It's not like we're the first ever."
"And yeah, knocking is the way this sort of thing is usually done."
Hennie knocks on the door.
"Polite and cheerful, that's the way to handle scary magic ladies who live in the woods. Put a smile on and use your best manners, eh?"
Gimble does exactly as he says, smiling widely and keeping his hands well away from his weapons.
A wooden door hangs off its hinges, blocking the entrance to the hut.
A wooden sign hangs on the door, explaining the lack of maintenance:
"Gone North. Darkness comes."
"Stupid door!" Liv growls as she puts her shoulder into it again and again. "Stupid, stupid door!!"
When she finally breaks through, Liv takes a moment to compose herself, puts a smile on her her face, and calls out, asking if anyone's home.
The door was surprisingly reluctant to come off its rusted old hinges. Perhaps some of the old witch's magic was holding it on.
The hut inside looks abandoned, although not quite as long abandoned as the Crucible was. Shelves line the walls, covered in all manner of clay jugs, clouded bottles, strangely cut rocks, rotted bunches of herbs, and a museum of other crude curios. Squirrels or other rodents have added piles of seeds and nuts in the empty spaces on the shelves.
A large rusted cauldron sits in the center of the hut, a foul stew of blown leaves, rust, and water filtered through a leaky roof sit at the bottom of the cauldron.
On the other side of the cauldron, in an old highbacked wicker chair sits a linen-wrapped body, holding a sheaf of hemp and sage. The linen is aged and rotted. The chair is pulled up to the cauldron as if the occupant were mixing a brew. The body in the foul wrappings is slender and just over 4 feet tall, its and is dwarfed by the large chair.
Gimble sneaks forward to the doors edge and takes a look.
"Is that our lady? Or someone else who died in her house?"
The body is so well-wrapped in bandages that it is hard to see who it might be. Herbs of various sorts have been woven into the bandages. It looks like some of them are growing, digging roots into what should be a mouldering corpse.
Something hangs around the mummy's neck.
Hennie also peeks in.
"Hm, it could be. If she was quite small and couldn't be bothered with a chair sized to her. And if she either forgot to take her door sign down or didn't get very far north. And if she managed to wrap herself bandages.... I don't think we want any soup from here."
Something dangles around the neck of the mummy. At first it didn't really stand out, but as Hendrina peers into the hut, it begins to glow green. It looks like a tiny head with glowing green eyes.
perception
"Wait, can you do that? Wrap yourself up in bandages and such after you die? I didnt think that was a thing."
1d20+7 perception
"Wait, can you do that? Wrap yourself up in bandages and such after you die? I didnt think that was a thing."
Hennie gives Gimble a puzzled look.
"No. you can't wrap yourself in bandages. I was joking."
"There's something around its neck."
Hennie crosses the shack's threshold and creeps closer so she can get a better look at the object.
As Hendrina gets closer to the bandage wrapped body, it becomes obvious that branches and grasses form its body. The herbs growing out of it are herbs poking out from beneath the bandages. Around the mannequins neck though, is something even more ominous--a little shrunken head with its lips sewn shut and glowing green eyes. When Hennie gets 5 feet away from it, she feels like it is looking at her. Dare she get closer?
Hennie doesn't dare get closer yet.
"Hello?" she asks the shrunken head pendant.
The shrunken head, sensing itself being addressed, burns a blaze of bright green. The stitching around its mouth stretches and tears as the mouth forces itself to mutter the words, "Look behind you hahahaah!"
Although the head looks like it once belonged to a bearded man, the voice definitely belongs to an old woman.
As soon as it does this, the cauldron comes to life, its wide opening in the top suddenly grows iron fangs. The witch's cauldron turns and snaps at the area in front of the chair where anyone normally handling the pendant would be standing. The cauldron soon realizes the trap did not work as intended and spins 180 degrees to see the intruders.