Khuvaan chuckles in his deep voice, "Honestly, it hadn't occurred to me that we needed to do research on the crypt. Didn't actually think I'd even get picked."
The lean half-orc shrugs.
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...Not sure I want to spoil the ending, though. It's part of the challenge, right?"
Median smiles and responds to Silvio.
That's an interesting way to look at it, and I like the low-stress approach in some ways. I just don't think I can personally look at this like a story. People keep talking down to me, and my father is mad that I am taking this time off from practicing magic... I mean, the whole town is looking at us and I have to prove myself here--make an impression, you know? So, I have to know as much as I can and be as prepared as possible. I just wish I hadn't fallen for Jocyn's "donation" ploy. What if I think of something else I need for the trip... I gave him everything I had. Ugh. I feel so stupid sometimes!
When Khuvaan responds, she says
I was pretty sure it would be you. Either that or my brother, and they couldn't choose us both, right? I'm glad you're coming. In case we run into something we have to fight. And definitely no research required... I just always feel like I need to know as much as I can, so I can defend myself I guess. Not sure if that makes sense.
"Holgast said that it's primarily an exercise in teamwork, and trust building. He was particularly vague on the details however."
"I mean, I'm pretty sure you could handle yourself in a fight Median. You sure showed the whiskey who's boss!" Silvio chuckles.
"Honestly, seems like we all know a bit of magic, right?" He hums and grasps his holy symbol of Erastil, conjuring some water to extinguish the dying embers of the flyer Median lit up. "Between the lot of us, we could take on pretty much anything."
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To Sledge she says
Well, that's more than I got out of anyone, so well done. I wish we knew more, but perhaps tomorrow we can get additional details... all of the people who know the most about it will be gathered. Maybe we can pry something from them then.
When Silvio makes his comments, Median smiles and says
I like you, Silvio. You have a good outlook on life. I think you're right. We should be very successful together. ... I mean, that said, I still wish I knew more about what we were headed into.
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"Ooh, a flaming shot! That's a great idea there, innit!" comes the impressed voice of Jimes as everyone else leaves the bar. He observes the bevy of half-drunk beverages and reaches for Jocyn's hat to take his evening tip. The bard doesn't stop him.
---
A passerby that you all vaguely recognize, but none of you know personally, stops by and watches you all for a moment as you speak in the alley. With a dark green cloak and a nasty scar across his face, you wouldn't be mistaken to think he was a Nirmathi ranger, dedicated to fighting against the Molthuni to the south. But just as you spy each other, he moves on.
Khuvaan raises one of his thick, pointed eyebrows at the sight of the stranger, but says nothing. "Maybe we should go back inside and all have a drink...we're likely to have a long day, tomorrow."
* * * Wealday, 4th of Neth, 4709 AR * * *
When you arrive at the town square a bit before noon the next day, you find it empty save for each other. Although Kassen is a small town and most people live in homes outside of the town's central limits, you would usually expect to see someone walking around. The baker. Old Lady Laura hanging up laundry. A couple of the kids running around and playing. But there is no one. It feels...eerie.
The bells atop the Temple of Erastil toll their midday song, echoing throughout the quiet town of Kassen. As the peals begin to fade, the first of the townsfolk make their way into the square, dressed in black, as if attending a funeral. They slowly fill the square, moving quietly across the cold, hard ground, their eyes downcast and mournful. After a few moments, a murmur passes through the crowd as it slowly parts to let Mayor Uptal through. He leads the way with a tarnished silver lantern. Behind him, an old pony drags a cart laden with backpacks and supplies.
Once he reaches the center of the crowd, Mayor Uptal stops and calls out to the assembled townsfolk. "Once again the winter winds blow through the Fangwood, marking the end of another harvest. There are wolves in the woods, howling at our walls, and serpents in our shadows, waiting to strike. Just as it was one hundred and seventy-four years ago, when Kassen himself left these walls to protect us, so it is today. Where are the heroes? Where are the brave folk that will venture out to Kassen's tomb and retrieve the flame to keep this community safe for another winter?"
After each of you responds, the Mayor continues: "And who is to have the honor of carrying the lantern?"
He waits for one of you to claim the lantern, nodding solemnly to you as he places it in your safe care. "Use this sacred artifact to bring the fire back to Kassen. And each of you, take one of these bags."
You each receive a backpack containing: 5 days' worth of rations, a small tent, a winter blanket, a full waterskin, and a piece of what looks like a map. In addition, Khuvaan's backpack contains 50 feet of hempen rope and a grappling hook. Median's backpack contains a torch and a box containing tinder and three tindertwigs. Sledge's backpack contains a torch and vial of red liquid labeled healing. Silvio's backpack contains a torch and a small bottle of local brandy. You also each have a packed lunch--one of your personal favorites--with a note from either a parent or a mentor telling you how proud they are of you and wishing you luck. Winter has a special lunch as well.
"Ooh, I like that, Median--arriving in style!" Silvio is definitely getting into the idea of this new team. "Yeah, I ought to go home too--still haven't told my folks about the news, though maybe they heard it by now. Sorry Khuvaan."
Heading home, Silvio tells his family about his selection, still with much enthusiasm! It takes a bit of effort to sleep from the excitement; he eventually decides to read some scriptures, which rather does the trick. He snuggles with Winter in his bed.
In the morning, Silvio's mother has prepared a special breakfast of pancakes! Silvio joins Father Prasst's morning service, praying to Old Deadeye for his favor on their journey. Noon can't come soon enough!
* * *
The solemnity of the ceremony comes as a surprise, even while it tickles an old memory. Silvio feels chills running through him as Mayor Uptal issues the call for heroes. The halfling is the first to step up. "I, Silvio Errico, am here to retrieve the Everflame."
When it comes time to take the lantern, though, Silvio doesn't feel as ready to lead. He looks toward the others . . . didn't one of them deserve the honor more?
He looks through his bag smiles, giving Jimes a wink as he briefly flashes the brandy. He's delighted to see a note from his parents and a lovingly packed shepherd's pie. Finally, he looks toward Sir Dramott and gives him a salute.
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Median steps up beside Silvio. She copies most of what he said because it sounds pretty good.
I, Median Vargidan, vow to travel to Kassen's tomb and retrieve the Everflame along with my worthy companions.
After her fellow 'heroes' also answer the call and the mayor asks who will carry the lantern, Median steps forward again.
I will carry the lantern.
That should give her the chance to examine the flame and see if she can work out how it is done, she thinks.
She retrieves the bag that has been prepared for her, packing the lantern with soft things around it and placing it inside with the rest. She is touched that Braggar has written her a note and provided a delicious lunch, much like the ones that they would eat at the forge.
She looks for him in the crowd, to thank him, as well as trying to spot any of her siblings who are in attendance.
"Sledge. Sledge Potterson. It's a great honor." The peppy attitude of the halfling seems perfectly normal for him and Median, but if Sledge tried to emulate their heroic tone, it would just sound disingenuous. Impassioned speeches were unbecoming on him, or so he thought.
Scanning the crowd, he tries to make eye contact with Damira, to give her a slight smile. Failing that Gretchen, and a smirk. (The two expressions were remarkably similar on his face) He certainly wasn't above a good gloat.
** Earlier **
Khuvaan woke earlier than he had originially planned, with only the first dim glimpses of the morning sun appearing on the horizon. Excited, and only feeling slightly silly for it, the half-orc acknowledges that he was indeed looking forward to the upcoming journey.
He rose quietly and collected his belongings that he would be taking with him and headed outside, and then out of town and into the woods. Not far, but far enough that he wouldn't be seen or interrupted.
And as the sunrise erupted into full bloom, Khuvaan began to meditate and center himself, focusing on the wilderness and the forest around him. And in the center of his thoughts, unbidden, he sees...feels...the image of a silver hawk. And it just feels right.
** Now **
Everyone is looking at us. Khuvaan stood with his shoulders squared, listening to his new companions each answer the mayor's ceremonial question, and felt his own insecurities rise up, unbidden. He was an outsider. Neither human, or even fully orc or elf. He wasn't one of them. Brought here to Kassen by his mentor, directionless and angry. Would he ever truly fit in?
However, a quick glance at the others...Silvio, Median, and Sledge...seeing each so proud their and brave and so completely caught up in the moment that he found the courage to speak, "I am Khuvaan...and I too will see this done."
He nods at Median when the young sorceress takes the lantern and then moves with the others to collect his own pack.
The young prospective adventurers announce themselves, their voices echoing in the hollow silence of the gathered crowd. It does look like a significant portion of Kassen's populace, including those from the farms and cabins in the surrounding woods, have gathered here. After all, it has been four years since the last such instance!
The Mayor hands the lantern to Median. As you all look around, Silvio does indeed see Jimes, lower in the crowd than most (and easily mistakable for one of the human children with the hood over most of his face, if you didn't know who you were looking for). He returns the wink and a toothy grin, seemingly glad that his message was received. His parents are standing near Sir Dramott, and they beam as the paladin returns the salute.
Braggar, the dwarven blacksmith, is also present in the crowd, though reasonably far away from her family. All of Median's siblings are present, and--so is her father! For all his distaste for the ceremony, he has turned out to see Median off. He looks especially pleased when Median offers to carry the lantern. Median can't see the two family servants right away, but they may be elsewhere in the crowd or back at the estate. They were certainly not wrangling the energetic Brody, who is waving with verve and hoping that his big sister notices him.
As Sledge looks around, he may be surprised to see that neither Damira, Gretchen, nor Master Holgast are visible. His father, however, stands near the edge of the crowd, face impassive as he holds Sledge's younger brother.
Khuvaan, despite feeling like an outsider, spots his mentor, not deep in the crowd, but watching from a nearby rooftop. When he sees her, Arnama nods approvingly, giving a brief whistle: a ranger signal meant to indicate something like "good hunting".
After you have retrieved your supplies, the mayor once again speaks to the townsfolk. "I present to you the brave heroes who will follow in Kassen’s footsteps to retrieve the Everflame: Silvio Errico, Median Vargidan, Sledge Potterson, and Khuvaan!" He pauses, lowering his voice slightly, before adding. "And Winter." He clears his throat and continues with full voice. "Some of them may not return, but I say to you that their sacrifice shall not be forgotten. Go, brave heroes, and do not return until you have the eternal fire."
With that, the mayor points to the south, the direction of Kassen's tomb. The townsfolk begin waving goodbye with cold, solemn looks on most of their faces.
Silvio waves goodbye in return and begins the first steps of the journey. He pulls out his section of the map, realizes it's incomplete, and looks toward the others. He hopes to be useful in guiding the way forward.
Turns out that he's a bit confused by the map at the moment, though. He looks toward Khuvaan. "Does this make sense to you?"
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Median waves to Brody, and then goes over to give all of her siblings hugs, promising to be back soon. She also bows to her father, saying Thank you for coming to see me off.
She then goes over to thank Braggar for the lunch and the note, thanking him for all his good guidance so far, especially about keeping calm.
Then she turns to look and see if her mother showed up. If she did, she goes and gives her a hug as well, for once not worrying about what her father will say.
Then she walks south, waiting for the others at the edge of town.
When everyone is pulling out map pieces to compare, she joins in.
Ruffling through his pack to check his new provisions, rope, and especially his new grapple, Khuvaan glances up at Silvio with a very articulate but distracted, "Huh?"
Someone put out by no one that he actually wanted to be there, Sledge stands still during the ceremony. After the mayor stops talking, the others can hear him quietly say, "They didn't show." His voice is far more full of emotion then when he talks for other people to hear. Of course Gretchen wasn't a great loss, but the others...? He wasn't entirely sure how he felt.
"Father," he says, nodding as he approaches the man. There wasn't much Sledge had to say to him, but perhaps he had something to say to Sledge?
Why'd they give me the healing potion? I think I'm vaguely offended.
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Moltus Vargidan arches one bushy eyebrow and nods his head at Median's bow. "Practice. Every day. And...be safe." He seems uncomfortable, but earnest.
The dwarven blacksmith shakes Median's hand when she comes over to him, with a calloused grip. "You're a promising apprentice, Ms. Vargidan. Remember: calmness is the cradle of power. May the Forgefather watch over you."
Olmira Treesong is also in the crowd, and happily hugs her daughter. If Median looks back at Moltus, she can tell that he stiffens witnessing their interaction, but doesn't raise a public fuss.
Sledge's father nods as his son approaches. "It'll be...quiet in the shop with you," he offers. His lip twitches uncertainly. "Your mother would have been glad today. Proud." He nods again, seemingly satisfied with what he intends as parting words.
---
Their quest assigned and their business in town completed, the four young adventurers (and one brave dog) set out from Kassen. Although Khuvaan and Silvio are well-used to surviving out in the wilderness, they seem momentarily vexed by the puzzle of the map until Median demonstrates her mother's influence and pieces everything together very quickly.
The map shows that crypt is located roughly 40 miles south of Kassen, and provides a reasonable enough path. It looks like your first stop will be The Broken Glade, which none of you recognize by name.
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Median is a little surprised that her father seems sort of concerned about her... that really isn't like him, but she kind of likes it.
She nods at Braggar. I'll remember. Thank you again.
She doesn't look back at her father after hugging her mother, wanting to remember his concern and not whatever he was thinking now.
_____
Median chats with the others as they walk
Serpent Gorge? That looks huge. I hope there is a bridge... and that serpent is a symbolic name, not a literal one. Strangely, I find the image of crawling over a gorge full of snakes worse than one just full of a fall that means certain death. Perhaps because it sounds less slithery? I'm not sure.
She wasn't carrying a weapon, but then, she didn't really need to.
As she walks she also keeps her eye out for a piece of wood that she could maybe make into a bow. She isn't great at woodcraft, but her mom did teach her a little. She ignores the fact that she has none of the proper tools with her, not even a whittling knife. She could figure that part out later. She just looked for an ideal branch, being filled with hope as they started out. All those people expressing their support had really banished her self-doubt... at least temporarily.
As the quartet leave town, Khuvaan glances upward to where he last saw Arnama, and is unsurprised to see her already gone. The fact that she had showed at all was encouraging to the young ranger. He had her blessing, and that was enough.
Tall, even for a half-orc, but lean, Khuvaan did his best to remember to shorten his pace a bit so as not to quickly outdistance the others...especially Silvio. Still, he tried not to be obvious about it, so as not to offend the halfling, and so he made a show of readjusting his bow across his back a couple of times, as if it were hindering him a bit.
Beyond that, however, he mostly listens to the chatting of the others and only comments when needed. Not that he was feeling aloof or distant...it was just his way. All in all, however, Khuvaan quickly realizes that traveling with the other three "heroes" feels surprisingly...natural.
Sledge nods again to his father, and turns. Their relationship, strained at the best of times, was not one that involved long farewells. And he had had his heart to heart with Holgast yesterday. No need to sully a good thing with further words. Still slightly vexed at not getting to look good in front of Damira, or smug in front of Gretchen, he sets off. He doesn't look back.
Silvo was going to slow them down. Sledge knew this, and was in the process of coming to terms with it. Right up until he noticed Winter's saddle.
"So... can you ride that dog?" he says rather lamely. He didn't want to fall back on his standard of intimidation so early in the journey, but conversation still eluded him.
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She's only a very well-controlled pyro right now... but if someone pushes her over the edge by constantly giving her matches (looking at you DM), then I mean, what can I do? I have to play the character, right? ;)
As the group walks along (with the halfling presumably riding on his sheepdog to maintain pace with the others), Median keeps her eye out for suitable wood. She finds something that she thinks, given enough time, she could probably carve into a decent bow. It's strong, but supple, and for now would make for excellent swinging.
As they walk, Sledge relates what he knows about Serpent Gorge. To allay Median's concerns, Serpent's Gorge is so-named not because of an abundance of squamata, but rather because of the shape of the natural rock formations on either side of the deep valley, which resemble enormous writhing serpents. More significantly from a historical perspective, Serpent Gorge is the location of the Crypt of the Everflame.
---
Following the path, you walk along for about two hours. The narrow path winds through the raking claws of the trees, many in late autumn glow but often bereft of their leaves, which crunch loudly underfoot. Up ahead, a fallen tree trunk blocks the path. Suddenly a trio of snarling humanoids leaps up from behind the trunk, all greenish skin and fearsome tusks, bellowing vulgar challenges.
You know that orcs can see in the dark up to 60 feet.
Median
Khuvaan
Sledge
Silvio and Winter
Enemies
Map
Orcs? Now? Is this some part of a test? Am I being tested for loyalty or something? Is this how it is always to be? Khuvaan is surprised by the level of rage that immediately rises up within him at the thought that somehow he was being mocked during this whole ceremonial journey.
The half-orc knew his concerns were unwarranted and probably irrational...but still, there they were. And here were three orcs, threatening his companions and their quest, almost before it had begun.
With a snarl of his own, Khuvaan draws his bow and immediately notches an arrow. Aiming at the orc immediately in front of him, he calls out angrily in orcish: "One chance. Walk away or I shoot you like lame dogs and put you out of your misery."
"Just the shape of the rocks Median. No snakes to be found there." He pauses for a moment. "Or not any more than usual anyway."
"I didn't know you were a whittler Median. Blacksmith yes, but woodworker?' Sledge does not bring up his own artistic endeavors, nor is it common knowledge that he is a painter.
==
Something about this seemed off. Full blooded orcs here? And not immediately attacking them? Perhaps this could still be talked out. He responds to them in orcish as well, stepping up next to Khuvaan, putting a hand on his shoulder in a gesture of solidarity. Brutality. Convey power.
"My friend here is the nice one. He'll let you walk away, and since he talked first I'll honor his word. I am much less kind than him. Your pain will be my glory." Sledge gives a crooked smile, but there was no warmth to it. His flail rested in his left hand. "Go ahead. Make my day."
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Median finds a nice piece of wood and is really happy about it. She thinks it will also make a fine quarterstaff if she has to knock someone on the head. She stows it in her quiver.
When Sledge asks her about woodworking she says Yeah, my father is all about how magic is my life, so I was thinking it would be good to be able to create magical items, and most things are okay with him if you can find a magical excuse like that. So, a little woodworking, a little metalsmithing... maybe someday I grow into being able to help the family by creating magical weapons, and maybe I don't, but I do enjoy it. How about you? Got hobbies?
____
Orc ambush:
Seeing Khuvaan ready his bow, Median is somewhat envious. She doesn't want to get up close and personal with these creatures. However, she was here to be heroic, and if they weren't here to fight, they wouldn't have ambushed them, and if she didn't do it now, they were unlikely to be lined up so conveniently later, so despite Khuvaan's offer, she springs into action. She casts a spell, holding onto the last syllable as she walks up to the fallen log and leaps on top of it, then she lets the spell loose at the ambushers.
"So I don't do this too often, but just for you guys . . . " Silvio does indeed hop on Winter, who is more than capable of carrying the little halfling.
* * *
. "Egads! Attack!" cries Silvio as Median herself charges into battle. Silvio fires a shot from the sling hanging off his shepherd's staff, while Winter bounds ahead and bites the foe nearest Median.
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You cannot make an untrained Knowledge check with a DC higher than 10. If you have access to an extensive library that covers a specific skill, this limit is removed. The time to make checks using a library, however, increases to 1d4 hours. Particularly complete libraries might even grant a bonus on Knowledge checks in the fields that they cover.
Sensing an opportunity to possibly defuse the situation before it turns deadly, Khuvaan and Sledge exchange Orcish words with the warriors behind the downed tree. Median, Silvio, and Winter, however, charge forward, not understanding the nature of the mutually-exchanged threats.
Atop the log, the budding pyromancer unleashes a gout of flame onto the gathered orcs. To Sledge's practiced mind, this certainly looks a good bit more powerful than a similar spell that he had seen Gretchen use only the day before. All three orcs immediately catch on fire, their angry threats taking on a pained twinge as they recoil from the heat that now envelopes them. While Sledge's bullet plinks harmlessly off the armor of the nearest orc, Winter surges forward, leaping over the log and bites into the same orc. With a mighty roar of pain, the orc buckles under the combined efforts of flame and teeth. That should have brought him down, but he still stands. And he looks even more ferocious now!
Median is the best remaining target.
The closest orc, swaying from blood loss and burns, tries to swing his axe at the halfling while Winter remains clamped on, though he is unable to manage a good swing. Meanwhile, one of his compatriots pats himself down as Median's fires extinguish from his clothes, and he shifts to the side, ignoring the rider and attacking the dog. His axe finds a home buried in the leather barding, pushing through and slashing narrowly into Winter.
While two orcs deal with the warpriest and his canine, the third orc steps up onto the tree trunk, hefting a greataxe, and advancing towards the sorceress. Despite the flames still dancing around his skin and hair, he approaches like the fiery specter of death, raising his greataxe high and cleaving it down into Median. Her blood spurts everywhere from the devastating blow.
Median (-13); please make a DC 10 Constitution check with a -5 penalty
Khuvaan
Sledge
Silvio and Winter (-5)
Enemies
Map
Blue Orc -6, shaken
Green Orc -9, on fire
Median has successfully disbelieved.
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"Median!" Khuvaan barks out the sorcerer's name, though whether it's more due to concern for her horrible wound or out of frustration at her reckless charge, even he is not sure. But what he is sure of is that he can't allow the orc to finish her off! He aims at the orc with the greataxe and fires!
Cursing in elvish as his shot somehow goes wide, (possibly from being shaken when his new comrade falls?), the half-orc bellows out, in orcish: "NO! You fight ME! Leave the woman where she fell! Face me unless you are a coward!"
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Median walks to the middle of the fallen log, passing through the illusory orc, the faint outline of his axe still dripping with what appeared to be her lifeblood. She calls out:
Could also be set on an object... maybe the log?
Median casts detect magic, trying to find out where the illusion is coming from.
[ooc]Ok, what do OUR characters see? Which Median do we see, the one the ground and one walking through the orcs?[/b]
As Khuvaan, Silvio, and Sledge watch Median br cut down by a mighty blow from the orc's greataxe, they begin moving to rescue her from the sudden brutality. But then they hear her voice, calling out to them. They peer cautiously, hopefully, and see through the illusion. The orcs and bleeding Median all still look real, but you can see them for the trick of the light that they are, complete with translucent, faintly glowing outlines. Furthermore, Median stands uninjured over her illusory self, and Silvio sees that Winter's injury is likewise nowhere to be seen.
After a few moments, the snarls quiet and the trio of orcs fade from existence.
Median's vision lights up with the presence of magical auras, and she continues to concentrate.
Median: Detect Magic round one
Khuvaan
Sledge
Silvio and Winter
"What the...?"
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Looking around now that the illusionary orcs have faded away, Khuvaan scans the ground. This path has seen some use, and there is evidence of many people having been through here previously. On his initial look, he can't determine fresh from old. And the smoke is hard to get a pin on a direction--he just notices that it's there. And it smells to him like it might be starting to fade.
Creatures with the scent special quality have a +8 bonus on Perception checks made to detect a scent.
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" Any further questions? I won't summon anymore frogs this time. Or anything else."
That rat bastard. He said no more summons, nothing about illusions... Sledge finds his respect for his master growing once more. Certainly not the doddering old fool he portrays himself as.
"Holgast's doing something here. He's probably the only mage in these parts that could pull this off, who wouldn't just throw a fireball at us and be done with it.
I suspect that's why everyone's been so coy about the journey. We're being tested beyond just the natural challenges of the journey." Sledge raises his voice.
"Does anyone else smell...pipe smoke?" Khuvaan says just as Sledge erupts with his outburst. He arches an eyebrow at the young Potterson and asks, "Is that even fair? I thought this was just a delivery job...Does Holgast even smoke a pipe? I've never seen him with one, I don't think..."
The spell lasts as long as you concentrate on it. Concentrating to maintain a spell is a standard action that does not provoke attacks of opportunity. Anything that could break* your concentration when casting a spell can also break your concentration while you’re maintaining one, causing the spell to end. See concentration on page 206.
The only response to Sledge's call into the forest beyond is autumnal wildlife and the wind in the trees.
Silvio is also surprised as the illusion of orcs suddenly disperses. "Woah, so it was all a trick? I'm glad you're okay, Median!"
"You too, Winter," he says more quietly. He then sees Winter come alert, sniffing the air. "Hey boy, go track down the smoke!"
Winter seems pretty distracted though.
"That fight. Maybe it's supposed to simulate what really happened? Make re-creating this journey feel more alive!"
Winter begins pawing around the whole clearing, smelling around for the smoke, but can't quite figure out where the smoke is coming from.
Meanwhile, as Median's eyes grow more attuned to magical auras and she focuses on different areas around her, 60 feet in either direction as she spins in a slow circle, she finds that the entire clearing is the source of a single aura of moderate magic. Every part of this clearing, and some of the trees just at the edge, seem to ooze magic.
These revelations of smelling smoke coming from somewhere and being surrounding by magical auras also coming from somewhere seem to suggest that you are being watched. Sledge certainly seems to think, piecing the clues together, that Master Holgast is behind this. The rest of the party offer their own theories, a mixture of excitement, skepticism, and disappointment, but no one answers their questions except for each other.
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(fail)
Well, the whole place is lit up with magic. We should probably avoid the clearing altogether. I have no idea who is doing this, but I'm inclined to agree with Sledge. I wonder if this is a personal thing between Holgast and Sledge or if whole thing is just a sham--the town playing us for idiot children. ... Or, I suppose, trying to liven things up, as the ever-positive Silvio theorizes. Either way, it isn't like we can go hunt Holgast down and do anything about it. What do you guys want to do? Avoid the clearing and move on, or maybe take a different path through the woods for a while that they won't be able to predict?
"Holgast has a bit of a reputation," says Silvio, shrugging. "Guess the smart thing to do is to go around, just in case the illusion is being made by something less friendly than our townsfolk."
Silvio tries to get his bearings on a path around the clearing.
.
"Um, this way, right?" he suggests, seeming to go the wrong way altogether.
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"It's an illusion. Probably a pretty strong one too if it's covering all this ground. Certainly a lot stronger than anything I can cast."
Sledge ponders Median's question for a minute. "Any reason to ruin their fun? If they want a pony show, I'm happy to give it to them." Sledge isn't about to botch another test. If Holgast wants them to fight phantasimal orcs, then by god, he was going to do it properly this time.