"I'll take first watch?" Ustemir asks his companions when they find a suitable place to bunk down. "Three hours? Who am I waking up?"
"Second." Ascaede raises her hand while head down, examining her blade and armor for wear.
Sebastien, Stepnik, and Shemar (aka the 3 S's) return to town to collect their pay from Oona and sleep in a warm bed. Ustemir, Weadin, and Asceade opt to camp out in the woods.
Sébastien sleeps soundly!
The next morning the halfling dresses for adventures!
Meeting the others back outside (after any shopping that anyone wanted done?), the bard smiles.
Everyone sleep well?
After waking up Ascaede, Ustemir leans over "I'll leave for a moment. I'll be back shortly. Just need to check on something."
As soon as he says that, he moves southward along the wall to check the site of their previous interaction with the local thugs. Seeing the scene without bodies, he immediately returns and lies down, sleeping much more comfortably.
In the morning, when the rest of the crew comes, he stretches and drinks from his waterskin. "Like a toddler. Yourself? Fun night out in town?"
After some shopping The group reunites in the morning and heads out to the lumber camps. To reach the camps it's a 15 mile hike.
Along the way you come across some large boulders with a strange glowing mold growing on their undersides.
As the group moves, Ustemir keeps his eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. He doesn't notice much, fortunately, but Kolek starts to take interest in some rock formations. "Come, boy!" the dromaar shouts at the bear, and a few seconds later, the ursine is next to the party... and illuminating the ground in an odd cyan light when he opens his mouth.
"What..." Ustemir seems startled /b]"the hell?"[/b], and he runs back to the boulders to find mold on their sides. He collects some into a spare shirt, and catches up with the group.
"So, folks..." he lifts up the shirt as it shines a light blue bioluminescent light. "I can see at night, but some of you might want this? I've heard about these. Should last for a few days. Any takers?"
He offers the shirt. "Note it -IS- mold. Won't eat your ears or anything, just putting that information out there."
RK: Nature
"What! Are you sure that's not poison? I mean I could certainly take advantage of that strong glow... but I'm convinced it is probably dangerous somehow".
"Well, if it is..." Ustemir looks at Kolek, now turned into a 250 kg walking flashlight. He pats him on the back. "We'll have to scrub that mouth of yours, bud."
Kolek looks at Ustemir and licks the dromaar's hands. He receives some scratches in return, but they are interrupted shortly after, when Ustemir notices his hands glowing ever so slightly. He rubs his hands off with some leaves and carries on, still holding the shirt and pondering the mold situation.
Sébastien giggles.
Waedin waves the mold away. Can see just fine. I'll be right behind ya in the dark so the rest don't give us away. Not up for sneaking around though.
You should be fiiiiiiine... It's really more of a lichen anyways...
Now armed with the totally deadly Glowmold, you continue heading north along a rough cut road through the woods. On occasion, a cart laden with timber comes through and drives you off the road. It is a clear, moderately cool, windy day. All in all, the 15 mile trek through the lovely Silverpine Forest takes roughly six hours and eats up your morning. You arrive at Camp B at around high noon.
The area around the camp has been clear cut, so your approach is rather visible. Throughout the fields around camp, woodsmen work to trim the lesser branches off of felled lumber to be loaded onto carts for the trip back to town. The camp itself is protected by a stockade, and two armed guards at the gate bar entrance to any unfamiliar faces.
"Hey! Just where d'ya think yer goin'?" snarls one of the guards as you walk up to the gate. A few random woodsmen who aren't busy working begin slowly approaching the group from all sides, rolling up their sleeves.
Ustemir clears his thorat. "Ahem, Jarlben Trookshavits, ahem."
Sébastien smiles at those Lumber sorts beginning to emerge from the woodworks to plank them for interrupting their day.
Hail the Camp! We are travelers come from...Silverpine come to investigate the beast, disappearances and linen quality.
The halfling shows his badge.
Ascaede looks at the assembling lumbermen to take their measure. She keeps her hands free from her blade, to provoke no hint or risk of danger.
The guard at first bucks up to Ustemir, "Yeah? You got official bidness wid ol' Jarlben?"
But when Sebastien mentions the beast and flashes a very official looking badge, he backs down, "Yer here fer the beast then yeah? Yeah, I'll show ya to ol' Jarlben m'self."
Beyond the stockade, the camp interior is a loose circle of canvas tents arranged around a campfire, with some simply constructed toolsheds and a work area for tool repairs. Very few off duty woodsmen mill about, preparing a stew over the fire for lunch. The guard leads you to a small wooden building and knocks on the door, "Hey Jarlben! Some people here to see you 'bout the wolf!"
The door opens and a surly, grizzled slab of a man with an unruly, red beard steps out. He sniffs the air then looks down at you, "So Payday’s finally sending someone to help? Better late than never, I guess."
"Whatever you've heard is true. Several of my men have been injured by traps or, worse, gone missing over the past few months. At first I thought it was insubordination, but just four days ago I saw it myself. One of my men stepped into a ditch only to get his foot impaled on a wooden stake. Then, the biggest, meanest wolf I ever saw grabbed him by the back and drug him out, was gone as soon as he appeared. I could still hear my man screaming for his life. We tried to track that wolf as far north as we could, but then his trail turned towards the hills and went cold. I've been thinking about shutting this camp down, but now that you're here, even if you end up wolf food, you'll at least keep my men safe for a bit."
The guard snorts.
Ascaede listens carefully to Trookshavits.
"Am I correct in understanding that these traps are used by, or in concert with, the attacks of the wolf? In essence, some manner of opposable-thumb facilitated setting of injurious hazards?"
The acolyte presses her index finger to her cheek, tapping it absent-mindedly.
"Not a regular wolf then. Possibilities include some kind of therianthrope - in this case, lycanthropy; or a hunter allied with the wolf that has a penchant for disturbing the activities of woodcutters; or a mutant hybrid with beyond usual intelligence than is usual for either man... or wolf."
Ascaede pauses before pursing her lips and nodding sagely.
"Extremely curious, indeed.
Have there been others going out trying to hunt this wolf? The more you can tell us the less likely any of us will end up wolf food.
And how big is big anyway? Like.. a pony?
"Yep. About the wolf thing. Here to save your yard and all that." Ustemir looks around nonchalantly as he speaks, then looks at the fellow. "Also... any chance you recall a Barlus Chortun coming this way?"
Jarlben's eye twitches as Ascaede contemplates his tale, "Listen, I know it sounds strange, but I saw what I saw. I can't make sense of it either."
To Waedin he responds, "No, we gave up on that hunt. My men don't go out to those hills. There's some old ruins out there, a temple or something, they say is haunted. Maybe this wolf is some sort of ghost or spirit. It had red glowing eyes... Yeah, maybe as big as a pony. A big pony."
In response to Ustemir, he adds, "Yeah I remember him asking to use my camp as his flophouse. But, this is Consortium property, and if you ain't working for me, you don't belong. I sent him packing for old Ulizmila's place, he'd be safer there. Accidents are prone to happening to people who don't belong around here. I can't be held responsible if an axe happened to fall on his head."
Without being subtle about it, Ustemir turns to the rest of the party. "See, that's why I don't live in town. This is the kind of attitude that is generally accepted. 'If you don't belong here, you get axed.' Ridiculous."
He scoffs audibly. "Thanks, I guess?" he mutters as he walks to be closer to Kolek, just in case.
Perception
"At first, I thought perhaps it was a diseased creature, but this seems to reveal at least a semblance of planning and intelligence. What is this Ulimila's place you mention. Is it on the way to this haunted temple? Perhaps we could take care of several problems all at once".
"That would be the hag's domain. Hopefully a former one."
To Waedin he responds, "No, we gave up on that hunt. My men don't go out to those hills. There's some old ruins out there, a temple or something, they say is haunted. Maybe this wolf is some sort of ghost or spirit. It had red glowing eyes... Yeah, maybe as big as a pony. A big pony."
Sébastien writes down the words as the Tumble, stumble from his mouth.
Old ruins you say. Tell us more about those.
Ascaede listens intently as always, trying to see as much as she can in her mind's eye.
"Master Trookshavits, can you also locate Hag Haunted Hollow? This map I have been provided indicates it roughly in comparison to our current position in your camp, but perhaps you know it's precise co-ordinates...."
Ascaede lays out the map for Jarlben.
"And you say the Hag Ulizmila is connected to these ruins also - are they nearby to the Hollow?? We do need to ensure the wolf is not wide-ranging, or threatening other camps..."
Jarlben takes a look at the map given to you by Laurel. "If the Hollow's where your going, it's here, about five miles north of Camp C, I'd say, you'll come across a lake, and the Hag's Hollow is on the other side." He points on the map in a north-easterly direction.
"I've never laid eyes on these ruins, only heard old ghost stories. We lost the wolf's trail about 10 miles north of here when he headed for the hills." he points on the map in a north by northwesterly direction.
"Now sorry folks, I don't know what else to say. Good luck... I guess."
Sébastien reaches down to serendipitously grab some mud to smear on his face while smiling sheepishly at Ascaede.
A mud faced bard gives a thumbs up!
The forest beyond the camp is completely untracked wilderness. You have a rough idea of where the wolf was last seen.
"Alright. Let's hunt us a wolf..." Ustemir starts to walk around to find a set of tracks or something to follow. "Uh, Sebastien," he seems puzzled. "why do you have mud on your face?"
+2 circumstance if designated as prey.
A mud faced covered bard stands next to Ustemir and whispers
Well, I didn't want to be that Face guy who just talks his way out of anything....
The halfling winks at Ascaede....
He then begins assisting the Ranger.
The Bard even is seen rubbing grass on his arms....
Following Jarlben's advice, you locate the spot where the wolf was last seen. Confirming Jarlben's wild story, you find a simple punji trap, with a bit of dried blood and gore remaining on the sharpened wooden stake. From there you spot the wolf tracks and drag marks of the injured man being taken into the woods. There's also the tracks of Jarlben's men following the wolf. So, with, surprisingly, Sebastien's help, Ustemir leads the group into the deep forest.
As you progress slowly through the woods, Ustemir starts to find the tracks confusing. First, it appears a couple other wolf tracks join and depart the first at intervals. Then, it seems, several fresh humanoid tracks join the trail. These seem to Ustemir to be the tracks of someone unfamiliar with the wilds, as they are heavily trodded, leaving plenty of snapped twigs and other easily identifiable markers in their wake. After a few hours you hear several voices up ahead in the woods.
How do we play this? Waedin aks the rest. I ain't the sneaky type.
As the journey goes on, Ustemir starts letting out short grunts. Curious at first, but some confusion can be heard over time. "This is all just..." he points at the tracks. "Look at this. Animal tracks, bipeds, then animals again. Things join the trail and then diverge, then suddenly it seems like a buffalo walked through here, breaking all of the branches and leaving a VERY visible trail..."
He sighs. "This is not a frequented pathway. At least I thought it wasn't. But I could have been wrong. Anyway..." and he stops himself talking after realising he can hear voices ahead.
Turning to a whisper, he turns at the rest of the gang with his index finger to his mouth. "Someone's here. I'll go look. Anyone wants to join?"
"Well I'm not the sneakiest but Okay. I'd hate for you to proceed alone".
Stealth
Ustemir and Stepnik scout ahead. They hear the sound of bickering and arguing up ahead "I say we're on the trail alright..." "...nah, couldn't be..." "...the Darkmoon Beast!" "...just some ol' ghost story..." "...wait... which way's north again?" "...Hey! who's been drinking MY whiskey!?"
Up ahead they spot three men, dirty, lost, and drunk by the looks of it. They stand around confusedly, trying to make sense of the same tracks you're following. Ustemir crouches as he approaches from a safe distance, but Stepnik breaks a branch underfoot.
"Huh? Whazzat? Hey! Somebody out there!?" they turn and shout in your direction.
A smugged mud covered faced halfling struts through the foliage like a true outdoorsperson....
Does this look like poison ivy to anyone?
Sébastien follows late behind those attempts at Stealth. At the inquiry from the trio of hunters, the smiling bard waljs into the clearing.
Hello camp! Wonderful day for a bit of nature, am I right.
The bard winks at Ascaede.
Waedin trudges up at the sound and looks at the men. Well that explains the tracks bein' messed up Ustemir.
Ascaede tries her beet to remain hidden, completely flummoxed by the turn of events.
Sebastien emerges from the trees, covered in mud and grass, and presents himself as friendly as can be.
One of the men stumbles forward, "Oh thank the Gods! It's a friendly tree spirit! Can you help us tree spirit? We're lost and..."
"Hey! We're not lost! I know zactly where we're goin..." follows the second.
"No Bernard! Don' talk to it. Don' tell it yer real name!" follows the third. He digs through some pouches on his belt and holds a silver coin up to Sebastien, "Hey there tiny fella. You mind showin' us out these woods? I'll give ya this shiny coin!"
Waedin sighs as she rubs her brow. Wouldn't be right to leave these jokers wandering around alone.
Watching intently, Ascaede tries to understand the actions of the three inebriated travellers.
Sebastien is a…tree spirit? And one offers coins to such spirits…
The templar thinks how proud her superiors will be when she brings back all this interesting lore of the world…
Nevertheless, she remains hidden, unsure if it is yet safe.
.....slight pause....slight shuffling...
The mud covered, leaf strewn obvious tree spirit begins to moan! Rustling around and a bit of dancing around, the tree spirit says
Howdy neighbors! What a fine morning for tracking! What are you tracking?
Sébastien looks at the silver coun. He takes it.
Ustemir remains in the underbrush, waiting for the situation to develop further. Kolek, however, is given the command to move up to Sebastien and stand beside the halfling.
He does so, looking... curious?
The hunters watch in drunk bemusement as Sebastien dances about the woods. And a young bear comes out and joins him! The man who offered the coin seems happy Sebastien took it, "Oh! Well we were just out hunting for Brush Colts and Fennecs and whatever when we found these tracks. Bart here thinks its the Darkmoon Beast ev'ryone's been talkin' 'bout, but Bernard here thinks that's all just a tall tale. Me, I think we're lost and run outta whiskey. Can you show us back to town little friends?"