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1) I am based in Southeast Asia (UTC +8) so my posting hours may be unusual (especially for those in North America). I usually update at least one or twice per day. Just to keep the game moving, please post at least once every day and at least once during the weekend.
2) Please label all three of your actions. Even if you think what you are doing is obvious.
3) If I am unavailable for longer than 24 hours, I will let you know in the Discussion Tab. Out of respect for your fellow players and myself, I ask that you do the same. Real life happens, and real life will always take priority over the game, but out of fairness for your fellow players, please let us know if you will be unavailable for an extended period of time.
4) Please note that on the following days, my posting can get unpredictable:
Tuesday/Thursdays - all day, as they are the 2 busiest days of my work week
4) Please complete the Macros and the Slides linked at the top of the page.
5) Questions, concerns? Feel free to share them in the Discussion tab.
6) Let's have some fun and tell a great story together! After all, that's what we are here for.
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A sprawling camp of tents and wooden buildings overlooks a forest of red pines. Sounds of hammers and saws echo from afar, as construction crews of Pathfinders and centaurs raise buildings for classrooms and a makeshift infirmary. Veterans bearing coffee and breakfast greet new arrivals, eager to swap stories and add the newcomers to their exhausted work details.
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А young human man with a blond long hair is the first to arrive. He looks around and sighs, clearly dissatisfied with something in the camp. His blue eyes express all that great sadness and confidence in the depravity of the world, which is so typical for young people (about) eighteen years old. However, a few scars and an obviously strong body prove that this guy is definitely worth something in battle. He has a light hammer with him, which he almost never lets go of his hands. Radim... Radim Vesperra, he will mutter to someone who asks his name. Although he looks more like a northerner hunter in clothes, but the surname gives out a southern, taldorian and perhaps even aristocratic origin.
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A leshy that looks like a giant walking mushroom with a polka dot red cap waves, holding a battered wooden shield and staff. There is a brown leaf like creature on its cap.
"Greetings! I am Farnguy! I used to dwell in a cave and then someone died in there. I absorbed his memories and decided it was interesting! So I shaped myself into this and wandered out into the world. On my head is Leafy, my familiar and companion! I primarily heal and spread spores and also produce goodberries! Two-legged creatures seem to like them as they give them visions!" Farnguy says.
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Swayaah snorts as she hears the word "visions." "Oh yeah, I bet they love those berries. Make themselves feel REAL good."
Swayaah releases the tent pole and gives the workers a careful fist bump. She doesn't want her claws to make a mess. The nice thing about dealing with centaurs is how they don't make a fuss about her deep purple skin, the short bat wings, her small silver horns or her tail. They are used to most of those features.
A younger albino girl quietly tugs her arm and leads her to the other Pathfinders. "Hey everyone. I'm Swayaah Maeleranti. This is my assistant, Fae. Don't mind the wings, that's what momma gave me." She jokes. "Fae knows a bit about medicine and the Abyss. I... know a little bit of everything."
She points at the camp. "It's hard work, but the centaurs here are very thankful." Swayaah rubs her temples to fight off a migraine. Fae hands her a few herbs. "Sorry, I've got these wicked headaches, lately..."
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An unkempt dwarf, bulky and slouching with greasy hair, mutters a few words in greeting. He is obviously a barbarian, though, to be fair, not all barbarians are dressed as poorly, groomed as poorly, or speak as poorly as Hancock, but the huge two handed maul and breastplate complete the picture. Not a man for words, he launches himself into the work at hand, following instructions, perhaps to avoid conversation?
Hancock's assistant (or more accurately hireling), however, is quite gregarious and, in contrast, seems intent to carry on as many conversations as he can and avoid any and all work as long as possible.
"Please excuse my benefactor, Hancock. He has a slight speech impediment and has hired me to do his talking. My name if Bruce and I will help translate anything he mutters."
At that point Hancock mutters something, glaring at Bruce.
"Well, not anything. Some things are better left unsaid."
A steady stream of chatter ensues from the relaxing translator who seems content with his role.
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Rukbat is a bit late. He is an Uruxi wearing glasses and is carrying a lot of charts and journals as well as a spyglass.
Apologies, apologies he says, a bit out of breath I was up most of the night observing some really interesting cosmic phenomena. The signs and portents may be advantageous for us today.
He looks over to Swayaah Oh ... your wings are lovely ... can you fly with those?
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A stocky leshy clad in pinecone armor and a jaunty eyepatch emerges from the crowd. He clutches a clipboard and puffs out his chest. "I am Blackberry, the esteemed commander of the training course. My friend Urwal requested we construct a special obstacle challenge to test the newcomers’ mettle, and you will be among the first to find Urwal." Blackberry gestures into the woods, but all that is visible from this point are Iobaria’s iconic blood-red bruorsivi pine trees.
As if on cue, a group of bedraggled and dejected-looking Pathfinders, all spattered and dripping a thick purple liquid that looks suspiciously like jam, emerge from the forest from the direction that Blackberry is pointing.
"Ah, perfect! The previous group just finished with the latest obstacle course!" Blackberry looks pleased. "You can proceed forward without any delays! I really hope that you put on a better performance than the last few groups." groups honored to complete it! Get through if you want.
A smaller leshy clears her throat, tugging on Blackberry’s shoulder. As the other leshy whispers in his ear, Blackberry’s good eye blinks. "My friends! The greatest heroes of the Finadar leshys! Forgive me for not recognizing you earlier! My vision is not what it once was… and thank goodness! Word from the wise: if you can avoid it, don’t let a piece of the Abyss lodge itself in your face."
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"Greetings Blackberry! Yes, those were interesting times! I hope your face has regrown!" Farnguy says.
Farnguy tells them about the Cyclop relics that have corrupted tha land, that infected many of the nature spirits that called the Finadar Forest home, including those that inhabited leshys.
A group of Pathfinder agents cleansed the spirits of this Abyssal corruption. Iobaria is home to a rare species of highly flammable conifer pine known as bruorsivi, also known as blood pine.
The forest had always been prone to brief, intense fires that burned out naturally or were contained by elf druids and centaur sages.
Recently, a massive fire swept through the Finadar Forest when a group of goblins living in the skeletal remains of an old draconic graveyard triggered an incomplete cyclopean ritual. Those who have seen the graveyard have marveled at how many generations of dragons must have lain buried there.
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"Hey Rukbat. The wings are just for show, sadly." She flexes her shoulders. "Although it is good for jumping. A gift from Mom." She grins.
"So, what's the deal with the training course, anyway?" Swayaah begins pondering as Fae pulls out a journal and starts writing.
"Nice analysis Rukbat. Sounds right to me."
She turns to Blackberry. "So we win if we find Urwal, right?"
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Blackberry leads you for a small hike through the forest. A pair of centaur construction workers sit on the sidelines of a clearing, drinking refreshments. "Another group! I am Tombu," a loud centaur proclaims. "Remember, we drink every time they get one to the face!"
Meanwhile, leshys in purple bandanas grab pies from a nearby table and walk to clearly marked obstacle checkpoints. Blackberry points to a plump, pumpkin-headed leshy who is tying an orange bandana around his eyes. "Your job, Pathfinders, is to escort Jackpot here through the obstacle course and help him keep heading in the general direction he chooses, without letting him take harm. You may steer him around hazards, but you must let him keep moving. Every time you fail, you get–"
"Pie to the face!" the centaurs shout.
As Blackberry finishes his instructions, the exuberant Jackpot takes off running blindly forward. Jackpot is a leshy bard-in-training who loves overacting his difficulties and narrating the problems he endures during various hazards, complete with sound effects. The blindfold slows Jackpot down slightly, so you easily catch up to him.
Surprise! It's skill check time. I know you are all shocked and amazed that there is a whole section specifically on skill checks and/or socialization. The listed skills are the obvious ones for each location, but creative solutions may be rewarded!
The first obstacle in the course is a 20-foot-square pit with small wooden walls that prevent creatures from moving around it. Come up with a plan to get Jackpot to the other side. Jackpot runs straight for it.
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"Jackpot, eh? I like your style-" she watches the leshy run off. Fae hops up and down excitedly around Swayaah, reading off a few ideas. Swayaah can barely keep up. "Okay! Okay! You're gonna give me a migraine."
"Let's... grab some ropes. Build a bridge. Maybe some leaves? Leshies aren't that heavy."
Bruce, on the other hand, slips over to the leshies with the pies and quietly asks if he can help them. If agreeable, he grabs a pie and waits for Hancock to make a mistake.
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After narrowly dodging a prematurely thrown pie (was that Bruce?), Hacncock continues on, taking a back seat to the others who seem to be doing quite well. As usual, Hancock powers through the latest obstacle and swims for it.
But it does seem like a struggle and he has no energy to spare for Jackpot.
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Farnguy and Swayaah manage to create a raft for Jackpot to float down the river with. However, Jackpot is halfway to the water by the time the raft is ready. Ruckbat, Luz and Hancock all try to catch up, to no avail. But Radim manages to get ahead of Jackpot and carry the leshy across the river and into the finish line.
Jackpot falls over and pulls a jar of blackberry jam out of his head, dousing himself with it liberally. "Look at all this blood! I need first aid!"
As you all laugh, the leshys offer each of you a jar of sticky blackberry jam that is also a gecko potion.
As you enjoy your victory, you hear rustling from the edge of the forest line.
"One can read the stars, but not the future." A voice from overhead proclaims. Two centaurs flinch as a copper-scaled iruxi drops from the tree behind them. "I am Urwal of the Verdant Wheel," the iruxi proclaims. "Like the Wanderer, we must make haste." With a brief nod, Urwal slings a pack over his shoulder and heads into the woods.
"Destinations. We speak of them as if we always know the places we must go. But if you do not know where you must go, can you find your way back? More importantly, can you feed yourself along the way? Let us see if you can. While we have some provisions, see if you can fetch some food for our journey from the surrounding terrain."
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The journey into the Finadar Forest continues on for several hours, during which Urwal provides little additional context for the trip beyond staring up into the open sky. Along the way, the forest thickens, and Urwal requests that you find him a clearer path through the forest that can still take you in the same direction.
Urwal’s tail twitches as he glances up at a patch of sky, barely visible through the trees. "You may wonder why I tested you your skills at a seemingly trivial obstacle course and at wilderness survival. This is not just a random lesson. A powerful force calls in my dreams, and the stars tell me that we must heed it. I cannot sense them while awake, so I must enter a trance. Like Jackpot, I embark on a vulnerable, sightless journey, and need your protection. I don’t know who or what calls. I can only feel the urgency. They sent me a vision of two partial constellations, the Stargazer and the Stranger. The Stargazer studies the heavens so intently that he cannot see his surroundings." Urwal pauses and shrugs. "Some signs need little interpretation."
"Any questions before I start our journey?"
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Rukbat ponders what Urwal said. I may have sensed something similar sir, but obviously not as strong as you. Fortunately the Wanderer in the Wagon is a good omen for this.
It seems to me that Urwal, the Stargazer, is about to meet the unknown, as represented by the Stranger. It does not have to be bad or dangerous though.
"Hey, friend. Do read futures or do that card thing? I wouldn't mind a reading if you do."