Wild Beyond the Witchlight (Inactive)

Game Master Evriani

Dramatis Personae


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Fem Tiefling Trickery Cleric 3 | 24/24 HP | AC 15 | Initiative: +2 | Spells: 1) 2/4; 2) 1/2 | Channel Divinity: 0/1 | Passive Perception: 12 | Saves: STR: +0 DEX: +2 CON: +2 INT: +0 WIS: +4 CHA: +3 | Conditions: none
Spells:
0: Thamaturgy; Guidance; Sacred Flame; Spare the Dying||1: 4/4; 2: 2/2 || +2 modifier; +4 SpATK; SSDC 12

Willow bites the inside of her lips to keep from grinning at Khalil's flustered reaction to the pretty dryad. She says nothing to disturb the druid's moment, only nods politely in reply to Demalyn's profuse thanks.

She moves over to peek over Vashrin's shoulder, lightly touching the half-elf so as not to startle him with her sudden appearance. "Looks nice," She glances at the man's armor--surely more worn and well-used than hers, as hers was nearly brand-new when they had left the carnival. "Seems like you might benefit from it."


Demalyn smiled sweetly at Khalil's manners, and she laughed melodiously, a sound that evoked images of sunshine, songbirds, and sparkling brooks. She laid a hand on the side of his cheek for a moment, bowing her head in a nod of acknowledgement.

"When Hither began filling with the foul waters of Bavlorna, my tree grew ill," she explained. "It still lives, but the taint trapped me, as you saw."


Half-Elf Male Bard (College of Lore) 3 | HP 21/21 | AC 16 | Init: +4 | Spells: 1st - 4/4; 2nd - 2/2 | Bardic Insp: 3/3 | Passive Percept: 15 | Spellthief Lute: 2/2 | Saves: STR: +0 DEX: +5 CON: +1 INT: +1 WIS: +1 CHA: +5 | Conditions: None
Spells:
Cantrip - Mage Hand, Minor Illusion; 1st - Detect Magic (R), Healing Word, Heroism, Identify (R), Sleep; 2nd - Invisibility
Skills:
Acrobatics +5, Arcana +3, Athletics +2, History +3, Insight +3, Investigation +3, Nature +3, Perception +5, Performance +7, Persuasion +5, Stealth +5

"Quite possibly." Vashrin admits to Willow's assessment. Pointing out the small rune etched into the leather he adds, "Might very well be magical too."

Glancing over toward the scene with Khalil the rescuer and his newly rescued friend, Vash quietly quips to Willow with a grin on his face. "Druids and dryads...an appropriate pairing."

"I wonder who will be next? It seems you and Nuruk have found each other, and now Khalil seems to have found someone."

With a small laugh he says, "Time to place your bets, I suppose. Will it be me or Karley? Personally, I would have bet on Sammy, but I'm not sure where he managed to get off to."

Changing the subject back to the armor, he asks, "You sure you don't want this? I'd offer it to Khalil, but I suspect the metal bits would be problematic for him."

While waiting for a response and for anything else to resolve between Khalil and the dryad, Vash begins the process of identifying any particular properties of the armor.

Ritually casting Detect Magic followed by ritually casting Identify. Once the detect magic is up, Vash will scan the room for any other magical auras. Ritually casting both spells will require 21 minutes. If we aren't willing to stay in this room that long, just let me know and I'll burn the spell slots.


Fem Tiefling Trickery Cleric 3 | 24/24 HP | AC 15 | Initiative: +2 | Spells: 1) 2/4; 2) 1/2 | Channel Divinity: 0/1 | Passive Perception: 12 | Saves: STR: +0 DEX: +2 CON: +2 INT: +0 WIS: +4 CHA: +3 | Conditions: none
Spells:
0: Thamaturgy; Guidance; Sacred Flame; Spare the Dying||1: 4/4; 2: 2/2 || +2 modifier; +4 SpATK; SSDC 12

Willow lets out a slight huff of amusement at Vash's remark, nodding slightly. "Oh, my bet is absolutely on you. No contest." She replies, silver eyes glittering with amusement. "Girls love a broody man who can sing to them," She nudges the half-elf teasingly, eyes flickering toward the curious dragonborn and then back to Vashrin.

"It might serve you better," she replies, waving away the armor. "Let's see what it's got going on first."

It'd only be worth it for Willow if Vash didn't intend to be in melee during fights - and it kind of depends whatever enchantment is on it, I suppose. Vash's AC is lower so I figure it'd be more helpful for him. Also, totally fine with spending the time to let you ritually cast.


31/31 HP | AC: 17 | Intiative: -1 | Passive Perception: 12 | DV 60ft | Saves: WIS, CHA | Lay On Hands 0/10 | Conditions: None
Spell Slots:
1st - 2/2

Nuruk watches with astonishment as the dryad comes back to life before them, the stone-like exterior reviving into a flourishing green. Vibrant and alive once more, she stumbled into Khalil and a small grin spread across his face as he gave a quick look towards the Dreamwalker's chosen beside him. Her laughter reminded him of the many fey he had met when he prepared for his venture against the hags.

"Beannachdan, is mise Nuruk, Ridire Òrdugh nan Droigheann. Is iad seo mo chompanaich." He says in Sylvan, bowing his head respectfully to her. He finishes that, giving a wide grin to Khalil before leaving the dryad in his care. A dryad was a good choice, very few chances of being drowned in a river.

As Vash prepares to carefully cast magic, Nuruk takes his place by the door. Any that came in to interrupt them would have to deal with the large dragonborn first.

Sylvan:
"Greetings, I am Nuruk, Knight of the Order of Brambles. These are my companions."


NG Human Male Druid 3 | AC: 12(14) | HP: 21/23 | PPerc: 16 | PInsight: 16 | Init: +1 | Inspiration: No

Khalil closes his eyes, his smile fading as the hags name is spoken. Even Demalyn's beautiful voice cannot make that creatures name sound pleasant. Even before the dryad spoke, Khalil guessed Bavlorna was responsible for Demalyn's fate. But hearing it directly from the dryad made it that much more painful. That much more infuriating.

Still, they had undone the hag's evil. Demalyn lived. Another wrong put right. Except...worry fills Khalil's features as he looks at Demalyn and the curved wall of the stump they're standing in.

"I...I'm glad we were able to release you from such a fate and strike another blow against the hag's evil." He says quietly. His voice grows gentle. Worry lingers within his words. "But your tree still suffers. A drowning stump. If it doesn't survive..." He swallows. Cannot say the remaining words out loud. If the tree dies, so will she.

"Surely driving out the hag and her dark magics is what needs to be done. And we are pledged to do that very thing. But is there time? Is there anything that can be done to save you...your tree...right now? Without defeating the hag."


Demalyn nods her head towards Nuruk respectfully. "Well, sir knight, Khalil, companions, am I to assume you are not here to join the likes of Agdon Longscarf and his bandits? You seem much too honorable for it"."

She nods gravely to Khalil's unspoken words. "My tree has already been badly hurt. You saw from without, I am certain. They cut her down, leaving only her stump. I was already trapped from the swamp waters when they came, and I couldn't defend her." Her eyes watered, and her voice now bore the qualities of a rainy day. "I do not have the power I once did, but hope remains. Below, amidst the roots, the heart of the tree still lives. But she is not alone. Something stirs down there, and if it remains, the last of her...and of me...will surely fade."


Karley didn't like the idea of being trapped by taint at all, her nose crinkling as her imagination ran with the notion. She had one last cinnamon sugar cookie from the night before and offered it to the dryad on her tippy toes.

Later she watched Vash ritual casting as if it were some fantastic sporting event, laying down on her stomach with fists under chin. The sorcerer couldn't understand a single thing about it, but it was highly entertaining.


Demalyn takes the sudden cookie with big, curious eyes, inspecting it, uncertain what to do with it but enjoying the way the light sparkled in the sugar crystals. She smiled at Karley, the heaviness of her words fading for the moment, and she clutched the cookie as though it were a treasured gift she intended to keep. "Thank you, friend of Khalil!"

Vash eventually learns the armor is +1 studded leather. =)


Fem Tiefling Trickery Cleric 3 | 24/24 HP | AC 15 | Initiative: +2 | Spells: 1) 2/4; 2) 1/2 | Channel Divinity: 0/1 | Passive Perception: 12 | Saves: STR: +0 DEX: +2 CON: +2 INT: +0 WIS: +4 CHA: +3 | Conditions: none
Spells:
0: Thamaturgy; Guidance; Sacred Flame; Spare the Dying||1: 4/4; 2: 2/2 || +2 modifier; +4 SpATK; SSDC 12

"I'm Willow," The cleric speaks up, then gestures to the cookie-sorceress and the bard respectively, offering their names as well: "And that is Karley...and Vash." Willow doesn't offer much else to the conversation, content to watch Khalil squirm under the attentions of the dryad...not to mention, nature was more his domain anyway.

The tiefling glances sidelong at Nuruk, one eyebrow quirked and eyes glittering with amusement at the whole scene. It was easy to find joy in watching another's potential romance unfold when in the beginnings of your own new relationship. They all deserved a little happiness.


Karley pointed inside her mouth, making little *nom nom* noises.

Then the halfling made a familiar pitch change between a whistle and a hum, and the ghostly sound of her magic voice began to build amplitude. The thousand disparate voices of Karleys interfered constructively to generate "w-What is it, near the heart that stirs-s?" as her lips moved in horrible synchrony with the illusory sounds.


31/31 HP | AC: 17 | Intiative: -1 | Passive Perception: 12 | DV 60ft | Saves: WIS, CHA | Lay On Hands 0/10 | Conditions: None
Spell Slots:
1st - 2/2

The scene there brought a smile to Nuruk's face, even if it was in more dire situations. After all, one had to find the moments of light even within places of darkness. Despite his earlier, vengeful moment, the paladin still considered the Light to be strong in his chest. He was no devoted knight, reined in with discipline and order alone. The man had sworn allegiance to the Fey and for all their rules, they were still such wild and powerful things. Emotions ran strongly through them and inhibitions were almost entirely nonexistent except for where it could cause them problems.

Karley asked the pertinent question though, asking about what it was that stirred near the dryad's heart. It would need to be slain if it could not be convinced to leave of its own volition. He would quickly ask his question after hers from where he leaned against the wall.

"Does it serve Longscarf or does he serve it? Do they even know of one another?" He was reluctant to put a group of bandits to death, even those serving the hags. When pushed to desperate situations, one would need to make difficult choices at times to survive.


"I am not certain," she answers Karley, "but there is little Agdon does not see, so I'm certain they know of one another. He leads the band of harengon here, and has for a very long time."

She slumps a little, her face growing sad. "He has a magical scarf that grants him impossible speed. When Zybilna still ruled, she caught him, and to punish him for his thievery, she cursed the scarf so it cannot be removed, then nailed it to my tree. I didn't min...at the time I was glad for some company." She laid a hand on the curved wall, the inside trunk of her tree. "He wasn't very kind, though. When the forest turned to swamp, and I began to fall ill, he mocked me. Said now I would know what being trapped felt like. Then his band came, and cut her down in order to free him."

She sighed. "Whatever is dwelling below, it was not here before I was imprisoned. And I haven't seen anything beyond this room, since."


Fem Tiefling Trickery Cleric 3 | 24/24 HP | AC 15 | Initiative: +2 | Spells: 1) 2/4; 2) 1/2 | Channel Divinity: 0/1 | Passive Perception: 12 | Saves: STR: +0 DEX: +2 CON: +2 INT: +0 WIS: +4 CHA: +3 | Conditions: none
Spells:
0: Thamaturgy; Guidance; Sacred Flame; Spare the Dying||1: 4/4; 2: 2/2 || +2 modifier; +4 SpATK; SSDC 12

Willow listens to the dryad carefully, arms crossed over her chest. It seemed her goddess had a Fey sense of justice--one that Willow found rather satisfying, all things considered. She frowned at the news that Longscarf's band had been the one to hurt the tree, and thus, the dryad. Zybilna had punished the harengon, and he had escaped that punishment by hurting another. Everything she knew of the Dreamwalker was based on her personal experience: the mysterious deity did not relish the suffering of innocents. She would carry out her goddess's will when they found Agdon Longscarf.

"Well, it sounds as though we should look into it," Willow states matter-of-factly, glancing about at her companions.

She looks to Demalyn and asks, "If we take care of whatever is down there, will we need to heal the heart, as well?"


Demalyn gives Willow a sort of half-shrug. "I'm not certain. I'm sorry. All I know is she still lives, or I wouldn't...but she's frightened of whatever is down there."


Half-Elf Male Bard (College of Lore) 3 | HP 21/21 | AC 16 | Init: +4 | Spells: 1st - 4/4; 2nd - 2/2 | Bardic Insp: 3/3 | Passive Percept: 15 | Spellthief Lute: 2/2 | Saves: STR: +0 DEX: +5 CON: +1 INT: +1 WIS: +1 CHA: +5 | Conditions: None
Spells:
Cantrip - Mage Hand, Minor Illusion; 1st - Detect Magic (R), Healing Word, Heroism, Identify (R), Sleep; 2nd - Invisibility
Skills:
Acrobatics +5, Arcana +3, Athletics +2, History +3, Insight +3, Investigation +3, Nature +3, Perception +5, Performance +7, Persuasion +5, Stealth +5

Finally completing his spells centered around the armor, Vash's concentration turns to the conversation at hand.

"Definitely." the bard says in response to Willow's assumption about looking into what dwells below.

"You don't happen to know how we would get down there to look into it, do you?" Vash asks the dryad, while taking off his armor to leave in place of the magical armor.


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NG Human Male Druid 3 | AC: 12(14) | HP: 21/23 | PPerc: 16 | PInsight: 16 | Init: +1 | Inspiration: No

Hearing Damelyn's tale of the haregon, Khalil's attitude toward the creatures changes further. Combined with Vashrin's own experience at the inn, the druid was developing an unforgiving stance toward this Agdon and his band.

"These harengon are no mere victims of the hags evil doing." He says. His voice has turned hard. Filled with determination and anger at those who would support such evil and cause harm to those like Jingle Jangle, Diana Cloppington, those poor beekeepers, and of course Damelyn. "It sounds like their brand of chaos, theft, and gratuitous evil was established even before her arrival. The hag merely freed them from their rightful punishment. The hour has arrived to rectify that wrong and rid this ancient tree of whatever lurks below seeking to bring more harm and death to Hither." The thump of his staff tapping hard against the floor punctuates his words.

But just as quickly he turns back to Damelyn and bows his head. Then closing his eyes and begins to hum softly. There is no real rhythm to the song. It is something akin to the sounds of a forest on a bright spring day, or a golden grain field just before harvest. The chant fills the room for a few moments. The druid runs a hand along the ancient interior of the stump. Briefly his fingers slip just beneath the surface of the hardwood. Connected the the swamps true life force through the roots of Damelyn's tree, he drops his consciousness down and into the vast interwoven life energies of the natural world.

Within this silvery green sparkling web of life, he spies a nearby pool of warm glowing energy. One of hundreds...thousands of pools that gather the life essence of the natural world like puddles in a field. Scooping a small amount of the golden liquid into his 'hands,' Khalil climbs back up the web and into the stump of the dryad's tree. His other hand gathers some of the inner stump wood and gently draws it outward like a potter pulling clay. As the one hand pulls, his other dribbles the golden light over the liquid wood. Out stretches a thin, bright green limb glowing with golden life. In a matter of moments, flowers bloom, leaves bud and grow, and then ten plump, red berries dangle from the small branch.

Nodding with satisfaction, Khalil turns to Damelyn. "Please take these." He says handing her the berries and his waterskin. "Hopefully both will help you recover and gain a bit of strength while we deal with the bandits and whatever troubles your tree's heart."

Casting Goodberry


Fem Tiefling Trickery Cleric 3 | 24/24 HP | AC 15 | Initiative: +2 | Spells: 1) 2/4; 2) 1/2 | Channel Divinity: 0/1 | Passive Perception: 12 | Saves: STR: +0 DEX: +2 CON: +2 INT: +0 WIS: +4 CHA: +3 | Conditions: none
Spells:
0: Thamaturgy; Guidance; Sacred Flame; Spare the Dying||1: 4/4; 2: 2/2 || +2 modifier; +4 SpATK; SSDC 12

Willow eyes Vashrin appreciatively, nodding with approval at the new armor before turning her attention back to Khalil and Demalyn. When she concentrated on it, the druid's primal magic made her skin tingle, bearing a hint of something that reminded her of fields of sweetgrass and wildflowers. She takes a deep, cleansing breath and looks around the room, ready to tackle whatever is below as soon as she knows where to go.


Karley prestidigitated forth a magical blackboard, quickly clacking down a few brainstormed ideas in some abomination of physics and engineering. What could cause a tree to fear?

The first idea was high-heels wearing, lunch eating, suspendies and bra bedackled lumberjack with a sharp axe and love for his fellow men...leaping from tree to tree. The dryad's link one of a thousand naughty Leicestershire flashing oaks, but mercifully the little chalk stick figure went shopping on Wednesdays.

Next of course was the woodpecker, bane of sanity. An incessantly knocking, ever merry laughter much too quick for the beheaded stump. The only counter, so the sorcerer suspected, was a certain Chilly Willy with a love of pancakes (requiring the finest maple syrup). The final sketch was an action pose of the duo worthy of studios from any universe.

Finally the pyromancer looked inward, discovering for the first time Flame-Karley. In the final analysis, what would cause a log to truly recoil but consumption per combustion? Any essence of wood stripped away leaving only a poisonous mixture of carbon and oxygen and water. Yes, fire...fire. Fire! The little chalkboard soon itself combusted spontaneously and vaporized in Karley's hand...the plasma-her from another strand breaching a brief incursion then and there.


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Vash wrote:
"You don't happen to know how we would get down there to look into it, do you?"

"They spoke of carving in stairs, in the center of her trunk," she answered sadly.

When Khalil begins to hum a tune that resonates with life itself, Demalyn gasps with joy, and her expression brightens. She twirls about in a little dance of jubilation, unable to resist the show of happiness.

She steps behind him, standing close, peering around his shoulder to watch as he shapes her tree and helps it to sprout anew. Her eyes are wide, glimmering with hope. When he hands her his waterskin and the berries, she takes them, but takes his hand as well, grasping it in both of hers. "First you save me, now this? You have given me a great gift, Khalil. I know you said seeing me well and safe is payment enough. But I want to give you something more."

She set down the water and berries gently, then laid her hands on either side of his face. Her skin was soft, and little blooms sprouted from the vines along her arms, covering the backs of her hands as they cradled his cheeks. Her hands began to glow, and she leaned closer and kissed him. It was a sweet, innocent kiss, but one that lingered, and while it did, Khalil felt a magical warmth fill him. Later, once he'd settled his nerves, he would come to realize the gift had not simply been a kiss. He had gained a powerful boon as well...

Boon of Fate: When another creature that you can see within 60 feet of you makes an ability check, an attack roll, or a saving throw, you can roll a d10 and apply the result as a bonus or penalty to the roll. Once you use this boon, you can't use it again until you finish a short rest.


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NG Human Male Druid 3 | AC: 12(14) | HP: 21/23 | PPerc: 16 | PInsight: 16 | Init: +1 | Inspiration: No

Khalil has never felt anything like it. Having grown up on an isolated farm in the Summer Country with no one but cranky old Gorm and the whimsical, elusive fox-fae Verity for companionship, Khalil has little experience with women and kisses. His eyes close as Damelyn's lips brush his own. With the dryad's magic washing through his inner self, the druid's face flushes red enough to warn any sailor drifting upon the high seas.

"I...I...my...a most treasured gift...that I will cherish always." He stammers in a shy whisper, his face still sunset red. Khalil's eyes don't leave the dryad's as she steps away. He stands frozen in mind and time even as his heart flutters and somersaults in his chest.

Eventually, Karley walks by and taps his mouth shut leaving a set of dusty chalk stains upon his bearded chin. The move is enough to jar him back to reality, but not nearly enough to clear the silly smile that takes up residence on his face. A smile made all the more ridiculous by the rainbow chalk fingerprint highlighting.


Fem Tiefling Trickery Cleric 3 | 24/24 HP | AC 15 | Initiative: +2 | Spells: 1) 2/4; 2) 1/2 | Channel Divinity: 0/1 | Passive Perception: 12 | Saves: STR: +0 DEX: +2 CON: +2 INT: +0 WIS: +4 CHA: +3 | Conditions: none
Spells:
0: Thamaturgy; Guidance; Sacred Flame; Spare the Dying||1: 4/4; 2: 2/2 || +2 modifier; +4 SpATK; SSDC 12

The cleric watches all of his unfold with barely-contained delight, her long, lavender fingers grasping the lower half of her face whilst she bites the inside of her lips to keep from grinning. It was lovely, watching the normally so silent and serious man reduced to stuttering over the sweet attentions of the dryad.

To distract herself, she looks around the room for where they might find the cruelly carved steps down into the heart of the dryad's tree, ready to investigate. She said nothing of the sort, however, unwilling to be the first to break the atmosphere Khalil's whirlwind romance had created.


31/31 HP | AC: 17 | Intiative: -1 | Passive Perception: 12 | DV 60ft | Saves: WIS, CHA | Lay On Hands 0/10 | Conditions: None
Spell Slots:
1st - 2/2

It was a gift to witness one so tied to the primal energies of the world shape them into being, creating sustenance from nothingness only through careful cultivating of the world's energies. It was beautiful to witness, both for the dryad's sheer happiness and Khalil's shy nature being adorably exposed.

Like Willow, he does nothing to interrupt the moment between the two of them until Karley taps his mouth closed. It was a precious moment and the man's giddy smile was a reward in and of itself. Pushing off of the wall, he'd give a nod to them all.

"We have a purpose and targets. Let us find out way downwards, shall we?" The paladin asks, checking the room's exit to see if the door was locked before opening it and peering outside.


Remembering the enormous carved logs from the Carnival's water toboggan, Karley looked for the concentric rings that paint a bullseye on the center of trees...

Investigation: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17

Starting from the outside and working in, arcane tally marks of circus dagger bundles kept track of the sorcerer's count as she walked backwards in time...


I'm dumb and said there was one exit originally but there are two, so as you check both doors...

Demalyn smiles almost shyly at Khalil's reaction, the green of her cheeks darkening.

The door to the west is unlocked, and peeking through, Nuruk sees two harengon sitting at a table and playing cards. The door north is similarly unlocked, and you see a room with various bunkbeds, and count four sleeping rabbitfolk.

Karley tries to gauge how old this tree is, but the more she focuses on the rings, the more her eyes seem to cross. There are so many of them. What appears to be a single dark ring, upon closer inspection, is a multitude of thinner rings, and those, in turn, contain smaller rings still. The scale of it is mindboggling, and Karley is fairly certain this tree is several millennia old.


Half-Elf Male Bard (College of Lore) 3 | HP 21/21 | AC 16 | Init: +4 | Spells: 1st - 4/4; 2nd - 2/2 | Bardic Insp: 3/3 | Passive Percept: 15 | Spellthief Lute: 2/2 | Saves: STR: +0 DEX: +5 CON: +1 INT: +1 WIS: +1 CHA: +5 | Conditions: None
Spells:
Cantrip - Mage Hand, Minor Illusion; 1st - Detect Magic (R), Healing Word, Heroism, Identify (R), Sleep; 2nd - Invisibility
Skills:
Acrobatics +5, Arcana +3, Athletics +2, History +3, Insight +3, Investigation +3, Nature +3, Perception +5, Performance +7, Persuasion +5, Stealth +5

Vashrin frowns seeing the options beyond the doors. He turns to his companions, Nuruk in particular, and quietly says, "While it's not the honorable route, I think we should take out the sleeping ones first - simply because of their greater numbers."


Fem Tiefling Trickery Cleric 3 | 24/24 HP | AC 15 | Initiative: +2 | Spells: 1) 2/4; 2) 1/2 | Channel Divinity: 0/1 | Passive Perception: 12 | Saves: STR: +0 DEX: +2 CON: +2 INT: +0 WIS: +4 CHA: +3 | Conditions: none
Spells:
0: Thamaturgy; Guidance; Sacred Flame; Spare the Dying||1: 4/4; 2: 2/2 || +2 modifier; +4 SpATK; SSDC 12

"From what we've seen so far, it seems like these particular harengon are not honorable creatures." The cleric grips the hilt of her mace while offering her opinion. "But we could always knock them out cold, instead."


NG Human Male Druid 3 | AC: 12(14) | HP: 21/23 | PPerc: 16 | PInsight: 16 | Init: +1 | Inspiration: No

With a final smile toward Damelyn, Khalil turns and joins the others whispering near the exits. He has no love for the harengon, certainly not after learning all the pain and trouble they've caused. But he couldn't know how much of that was just because of Agdon and his influence over the others. Could some be redeemed? Or were they all simply a lost cause? What were a few dead rabbitkin to restoring Hither? To restoring and saving Damelyn? The questions swirl in his mind, but he has few answers. Yet, the thoughts are not all wasted for an idea does sprout from the fertile soil.

"I might be able to slip in and subdue the sleeping ones without spilling blood." He whispers. "In my spider shape I can quietly slip along the ceiling, then wrap and bind them in webbing so they can neither move or cry out. If all goes well, I could get all four. If not, at least one or two should be out of the fight. What do you say?"

As he speaks he attunes himself once again to the natural world. But this time instead of slipping completely down into the primordial web he merely dips into the upper reaches just enough to call forth a bit of energy and pour it onto his own limbs. As he does, his feet and hands tingle. His movements become more graceful, his reflexes a bit quicker to react as he calls upon the natural abilities of the stealthy, graceful wild hunting cats.

Casting Enhance Ability: Cat's Grace


Half-Elf Male Bard (College of Lore) 3 | HP 21/21 | AC 16 | Init: +4 | Spells: 1st - 4/4; 2nd - 2/2 | Bardic Insp: 3/3 | Passive Percept: 15 | Spellthief Lute: 2/2 | Saves: STR: +0 DEX: +5 CON: +1 INT: +1 WIS: +1 CHA: +5 | Conditions: None
Spells:
Cantrip - Mage Hand, Minor Illusion; 1st - Detect Magic (R), Healing Word, Heroism, Identify (R), Sleep; 2nd - Invisibility
Skills:
Acrobatics +5, Arcana +3, Athletics +2, History +3, Insight +3, Investigation +3, Nature +3, Perception +5, Performance +7, Persuasion +5, Stealth +5

Vash nods, happy to give Khalil a chance to handle this situation without bloodshed - not that these particular foes deserved such mercy.

The bard takes a position near the other door, no sense getting flanked by enemies should this whole thing go sideways. Peering into the room with the gambling harengon, Vashrin stands by ready to cast a spell of sleep should the pair try to come to the aid of their slumbering brethern.

Should the spell become necessary:

HP worth of creatures put to sleep: 5d8 ⇒ (1, 2, 3, 8, 5) = 19


Fem Tiefling Trickery Cleric 3 | 24/24 HP | AC 15 | Initiative: +2 | Spells: 1) 2/4; 2) 1/2 | Channel Divinity: 0/1 | Passive Perception: 12 | Saves: STR: +0 DEX: +2 CON: +2 INT: +0 WIS: +4 CHA: +3 | Conditions: none
Spells:
0: Thamaturgy; Guidance; Sacred Flame; Spare the Dying||1: 4/4; 2: 2/2 || +2 modifier; +4 SpATK; SSDC 12

Willow nods as well, resting a hand on the druid's shoulder gently and whispering a blessing of guidance. "Dreamwalker guide your steps."

Khalil has guidance. For one minute, he can add 1d4 added to an ability check of his choice.

After, Willow turns to Nuruk and touches his scaled golden face lightly with one hand, silver eyes catching his red. Her eyebrows raise in a pleasant expression, and she runs her fingers along the ridges of his jaw affectionately. "Back him up. I'll help Vash."

She draws her mace and shield, moving to the other side of the door with the gambling harengon. She catches Vashrin's eyes and nods sharply, ready to assist should anything go awry.


Karley becomes a cloud of daggers, little bundles of five obscuring her form as she uselessly deduces the tree's age to be incalculable. When the circus dagger tallies finally cleared, everyone was being very serious near a door adjacent to the dryad's chamber. The sorcerer tip-toed over...

Stealth: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23

...hoping to remain unseen by whatever monstrous force lay beyond, should deadly combat begin. Hiding behind Willow with Lightfoot ability.


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NG Human Male Druid 3 | AC: 12(14) | HP: 21/23 | PPerc: 16 | PInsight: 16 | Init: +1 | Inspiration: No

Nodding as all are in position, Khalil takes a deep breath and once again imagines himself as a spider. It is easier now. The additional legs, the bulky abdomen, the multifaceted eyesight. As the druid dreams himself into another form, he slips quietly into the hall. A few steps beyond the doorway and a giant wolf spider, floppy hat akimbo atop its arachnid head, creeps down the corridor. He crawls forward. Patient, quiet. Up the wall, through the door. Onto the ceiling. A hunter stalking prey guided by Willow's magic and his own.

There is a moment, looking upon the sleeping harengon that the spider nature tries to exert itself upon his mind. Prey. Feed. Survive. It whispers those natural imperatives in his mind. It is strong enough to give him pause. Sparkling spider eyes watch the soft rise and fall of a hundred harengon chests as it dreams whatever dreams come to such folk. Spider-Khalil cannot help but hear Damelyn's tale. Feel the soft tremor of the dying tree beneath feet that can sense a fly dancing on a string of silk. The dryad, frozen, petrified fills his mind. Prey. Feed. Survive. The spider mind whispers. A drop of poison slips down a knife like fang.

Spider-Khalil shudders. Turns away the spider voice. Turns away a need to act as judge and executioner upon these bandits. There is another way, else he become as wicked as the Bavlorna and her sisters. And so he begins to spin spider silk. Wrapping the first bandit in the soft, sticky webbing with the care and gentleness of a mother swaddling a babe until it is encased in a thick cocoon with just enough passage for air to slip in and out.

Stealth + Guidance: 1d20 + 7 + 1d4 ⇒ (5) + 7 + (3) = 15
Adv. Stealth from Enhanced Ability: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

GM: Not sure if you want multiple Stealth rolls or some other roll for wrapping them up without waking them.


Khalil's spider-feet, upon touching the first harengon to web them, almost flinch back at the amount of alcohol they find. These rabbits are out, and the soft murmur of confusion the first one makes does not cause the others to stir.

Only a DC 7 stealth check, and since you basically can't fail, lol...

One by one, he encases the harengon in web coccoons. One by one, he shows them more mercy than they would have shown any of you. One by one, he saves them.

Once all four have been dealt with, the rest of you are free to enter the room. There are footlockers at the base of each bed, and another door leading to the west.


Half-Elf Male Bard (College of Lore) 3 | HP 21/21 | AC 16 | Init: +4 | Spells: 1st - 4/4; 2nd - 2/2 | Bardic Insp: 3/3 | Passive Percept: 15 | Spellthief Lute: 2/2 | Saves: STR: +0 DEX: +5 CON: +1 INT: +1 WIS: +1 CHA: +5 | Conditions: None
Spells:
Cantrip - Mage Hand, Minor Illusion; 1st - Detect Magic (R), Healing Word, Heroism, Identify (R), Sleep; 2nd - Invisibility
Skills:
Acrobatics +5, Arcana +3, Athletics +2, History +3, Insight +3, Investigation +3, Nature +3, Perception +5, Performance +7, Persuasion +5, Stealth +5

Vash points to the room with the now contained, sleeping harengon, gesturing for all of his companions to enter the room - including Demalyn, should she care to come along.

Once everyone is in the room, Vashrin closes the door and goes over to listen at the door in the western wall.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9


31/31 HP | AC: 17 | Intiative: -1 | Passive Perception: 12 | DV 60ft | Saves: WIS, CHA | Lay On Hands 0/10 | Conditions: None
Spell Slots:
1st - 2/2

Nuruk savors that gentle touch, his face warm and light at the brief moment of affection. Those draconic slits watch her for a moment before he gives a nod, the gentle expression hardening into one of war. He draws the greataxe and steps in the doorway, eyeing each bed as the Khalil-Spider does his work. It was impressive to watch the druid work his craft, wrapping up each and every harengon with precision. The paladin's hand drifts down to the tree branch their friendly tree had given him, ready to call upon the roots around them should any of them cause problem.

They awaken too lay to escape from the tangled webbing that has them trapped, wriggling like the flies that they were. He steps between them, letting the dim light catch the edge of his greataxe as he carefully lifts a finger up to tell them to remain quiet. Khalil had mercy and so did the paladin truthfully. The less of them that had to die, the better. To reject that silk mercy and stand against them was to call for righteous wrath.

As Vash moves ahead, Nuruk carefully looks through the footlockers at the edge of each bed. These men and women were thieves and bandits, their goods were not their own. Anything that could grant them advantage would be taken without hesitation.


Fem Tiefling Trickery Cleric 3 | 24/24 HP | AC 15 | Initiative: +2 | Spells: 1) 2/4; 2) 1/2 | Channel Divinity: 0/1 | Passive Perception: 12 | Saves: STR: +0 DEX: +2 CON: +2 INT: +0 WIS: +4 CHA: +3 | Conditions: none
Spells:
0: Thamaturgy; Guidance; Sacred Flame; Spare the Dying||1: 4/4; 2: 2/2 || +2 modifier; +4 SpATK; SSDC 12

With Khalil's plan going off without a hitch, Willow gestures for the little hidden halfling to follow her and head into the room. When the door shuts behind them, she moves to try to assist Vashrin with listening at the door.

Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5

Unfortunately, the cleric can't hear much, and she shrugs at the half-elf and moves away to help Nuruk look around in the footlockers. She checks over the footlockers before they attempt any kind of unlocking, making sure there weren't any nasty surprises waiting for them.

Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16


The footlockers have simple locks upon them, but are not trapped, as far as Willow can determine. Neither Vash nor Willow hears anything through the stout wooden door to the west.

Demalyn follows behind you all, her eyes going wide with awe as Khalil transforms, and giggling at the way his hat remains a hat while his other garments fuse with his new form. She watches with delight as he binds the harengon. Even their mouths are coccooned, so muffled "Mmmphff!" sounds are all that emerge.


Fem Tiefling Trickery Cleric 3 | 24/24 HP | AC 15 | Initiative: +2 | Spells: 1) 2/4; 2) 1/2 | Channel Divinity: 0/1 | Passive Perception: 12 | Saves: STR: +0 DEX: +2 CON: +2 INT: +0 WIS: +4 CHA: +3 | Conditions: none
Spells:
0: Thamaturgy; Guidance; Sacred Flame; Spare the Dying||1: 4/4; 2: 2/2 || +2 modifier; +4 SpATK; SSDC 12

Willow tries to open one of the footlocker and finds it locked. She frowns and then sighs, shaking her head. "Don't have anything that can open these up," she mutters, looking around at the rest of them with a raised brow. "Unless any of you can?" She asks quietly.

She moves about to look through the beds and any side-tables for keys, although she suspects the keys are wrapped in Khalil's harnegon-coccoons.

Willow pauses for just a moment by spider-Khalil and gives the druid a little belly rub before moving on with her search, delighted by the opportunity to again pet a big giant spider without having to worry about being bitten.

Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15


Karley peered out from behind Willow, shrugging at the latches and padlocks. Such mechanisms were never furry enough or vividly colored enough to hold her attention. But then she supposed that might be true in other universes, and knelt down to inspect the device. After sprinkling a little water in the keyhole, the sorcerer produced the Ice Key...turning it in the moist metal...

Dex: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
Dex, Tides: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18 Tides ebb, surge armed.

Thinking the cold/ice shatters the lock liquid nitrogen style...like those cliche heist flicks I love so much.


NG Human Male Druid 3 | AC: 12(14) | HP: 21/23 | PPerc: 16 | PInsight: 16 | Init: +1 | Inspiration: No

Binding the harengon was delicate, careful work. Having finished the task, Khalil takes a moment to let the tension ease from his many legged joints. Seeing that Damelyn had followed everyone into the room, he lifts his hat to the dryad and then scuttles toward the door to listen with Vashrin and Willow.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13


Karley's trick works on the somewhat cheap locks, the key freezing the water and expanding to break them open. There isn't much to find, mostly personal effects, and a couple mundane daggers. One chest has a labeled potion of healing, and another has what appears to be a care package from someone's sweetheart, containing some fresh, delicious looking carrot cake cookies. Vash, upon seeing the sappy note that accompanies the treat, would notice the harengon webbed in that particular bed has the same coloration to his unwrapped ears as Jinko, and was likely the same lying self-professed ex-bandit.

The room beyond the next door remains quiet, none of you hearing anything of note beyond.


Fem Tiefling Trickery Cleric 3 | 24/24 HP | AC 15 | Initiative: +2 | Spells: 1) 2/4; 2) 1/2 | Channel Divinity: 0/1 | Passive Perception: 12 | Saves: STR: +0 DEX: +2 CON: +2 INT: +0 WIS: +4 CHA: +3 | Conditions: none
Spells:
0: Thamaturgy; Guidance; Sacred Flame; Spare the Dying||1: 4/4; 2: 2/2 || +2 modifier; +4 SpATK; SSDC 12

"We take care of those others playing cards before we proceed," Willow suggests, glancing up at the cocoons. She lets the reasoning speak for itself lest it is mistaken for a worry or concern by her curse.


NG Human Male Druid 3 | AC: 12(14) | HP: 21/23 | PPerc: 16 | PInsight: 16 | Init: +1 | Inspiration: No

Khalil shrugs four of his eight shoulders and then bobs his head up and down in agreement with Willow's suggestion. But this time spider-Khalil keeps to the back of the group not wanting to frighten the harengon and send them running for help.


Fem Tiefling Trickery Cleric 3 | 24/24 HP | AC 15 | Initiative: +2 | Spells: 1) 2/4; 2) 1/2 | Channel Divinity: 0/1 | Passive Perception: 12 | Saves: STR: +0 DEX: +2 CON: +2 INT: +0 WIS: +4 CHA: +3 | Conditions: none
Spells:
0: Thamaturgy; Guidance; Sacred Flame; Spare the Dying||1: 4/4; 2: 2/2 || +2 modifier; +4 SpATK; SSDC 12

"Hmmm, I have something that will help with an ambush..." Willow says, pulling a few things from her components pouch. She takes a deep breath, looking inward to the divine, Trickster magic within. The Dreamwalker's gift is a sparkling swirl of color in her center, and it fills the tiefling with a sense of comfort when she touches it.

From there, Willow reaches out with her mind's eye to gather threads of darkness and shadow to wrap them, lovingly, around all of the Defenders. The room is suddenly silent and calm, and Willow's footsteps make no sound as she begins to move back toward the previous door. "Stay close to me, or it won't help you," She warns.

Willow will creep back to the other door where the harengon are playing cards and raise an eyebrow at the others, waiting for the signal that they are ready. When they are, Willow will push open the door to allow the others to do what they're going to do.

Just in case Vash wants to try that sleep spell, lol!

Pass Without a Trace:

Duration: 1 hour, concentration
A veil of shadows and Silence radiates from you, masking you and your Companions from detection. For the Duration, each creature you choose within 30 feet of you (including you) has a +10 bonus to Dexterity (Stealth) checks and can’t be tracked except by magical means. A creature that receives this bonus leaves behind no tracks or other traces of its Passage.


Karley twisted the key...nothing happened. But then her eyes went wide as she sensed the Tides of Chaos again furcating her identity. Like the refracted light trapped in a diamond, the strands of probability branched to infinity and one Karley became several...each interacting with the chests of their universes in their own way.

::One this, one that...which one am I?::

One was a unicorn Karley, inserting her monohorn into the keyhole and tipping the tumblers with a giggle. Her rainbow hooves clopped happily as the lock burst open. The others were there too (also unicorns) and the herd broke into a jubilant riverdance right there on the spot in an amazing display of knee-joint dexterity.

Another was some kind of neanderthal Karley, angrily smashing the lock apart with a big brontosaurus bone. Meanwhile Vash picked lice from her hairy shoulders. Not to be outdone, the other cave-Defenders were quick to smash the fragile contents of the chest, and finally the chest itself. There was no emotion on any of their faces, just a steady look of consternation from under the big bushy eyebrows.

The chest was trapped in one unfortunate universe, a trapdoor opening from above as a smithing anvil was free to plunge into a deadfall...the resulting sorcerer juice not the pulp-free version.

There was a universe where Karley was the lock, and Willow was harshly scolding her for picking herself the way a mother warns against picking ones nose.

Finally, one universe was the home of Catsuit Karley, the infamous jewel thief that pilfered the rich and royal along the Sword Coast. It was the master burglar's quick wit that ultimately provided the solution of freezing the poorly made locks.

As the overlapping parallel universes ebbed to other spaces, Karley cursed herself. She never had the je ne sais quoi to combine carrot cake and cookies during her culinary artistry. Stashing the treat for rigorous analysis and reverse engineering later, she joined the others in Willow's sphere of sonic nullment.

Stealth: 1d20 + 5 + 10 ⇒ (15) + 5 + 10 = 30

edit: also handing potion to whoever


Half-Elf Male Bard (College of Lore) 3 | HP 21/21 | AC 16 | Init: +4 | Spells: 1st - 4/4; 2nd - 2/2 | Bardic Insp: 3/3 | Passive Percept: 15 | Spellthief Lute: 2/2 | Saves: STR: +0 DEX: +5 CON: +1 INT: +1 WIS: +1 CHA: +5 | Conditions: None
Spells:
Cantrip - Mage Hand, Minor Illusion; 1st - Detect Magic (R), Healing Word, Heroism, Identify (R), Sleep; 2nd - Invisibility
Skills:
Acrobatics +5, Arcana +3, Athletics +2, History +3, Insight +3, Investigation +3, Nature +3, Perception +5, Performance +7, Persuasion +5, Stealth +5

Vashrin nods, going along with Willow to see to the gambling rabbit-folk. Once Willow pushes the door open, Vashrin casts his spell of sleep.

HP of creatures to take a nap: 5d8 ⇒ (8, 2, 2, 5, 5) = 22


Both of the harengon gamblers suddenly slump over the table where they were playing, fast asleep. Neither of them heard so much as a peep from any of you, thanks to Willow's spell. Demalyn, still watching you all work, smiles gleefully. She is happy to have these invaders dealt with, but is even gladder for the fact it does not require violence and death.

This seems to be the tree's entrance. A wooden pathway enters this rustic room, the warm glow of the fireplace illuminating mismatched furniture and muddy footprints. There is a large book sitting open atop the bookshelf.


Fem Tiefling Trickery Cleric 3 | 24/24 HP | AC 15 | Initiative: +2 | Spells: 1) 2/4; 2) 1/2 | Channel Divinity: 0/1 | Passive Perception: 12 | Saves: STR: +0 DEX: +2 CON: +2 INT: +0 WIS: +4 CHA: +3 | Conditions: none
Spells:
0: Thamaturgy; Guidance; Sacred Flame; Spare the Dying||1: 4/4; 2: 2/2 || +2 modifier; +4 SpATK; SSDC 12

Willow peeks into the door and frowns a little, looking back at the others and speaking in a whisper. "This is the entrance. I bet we will find where we need to go past the cocooned harengon..." She looks back into the room, the book catching her eye. "Going to take a look at this, though."

Without waiting for any protest, Willow will creep into the room and take a look at the book, working to avoid waking up the harengon.

Stealth: 1d20 + 2 + 10 ⇒ (19) + 2 + 10 = 31


NG Human Male Druid 3 | AC: 12(14) | HP: 21/23 | PPerc: 16 | PInsight: 16 | Init: +1 | Inspiration: No

While Willow investigates the big book, Khalil-spider creeps into the room following Vashrin's spell and wraps up the sleeping harengon just like the previous bunch. Feeling better once the two are safely cocooned, he scuttles back toward the bunkroom and whatever lay beyond the other door.

Stealth: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20
Adv Stealth: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8


Fem Tiefling Trickery Cleric 3 | 24/24 HP | AC 15 | Initiative: +2 | Spells: 1) 2/4; 2) 1/2 | Channel Divinity: 0/1 | Passive Perception: 12 | Saves: STR: +0 DEX: +2 CON: +2 INT: +0 WIS: +4 CHA: +3 | Conditions: none
Spells:
0: Thamaturgy; Guidance; Sacred Flame; Spare the Dying||1: 4/4; 2: 2/2 || +2 modifier; +4 SpATK; SSDC 12

You also have +10 to your stealth from Pass Without a Trace, so you're very stealthy, Khalil.

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