Search Posts
Grn'nak ploughs through the water like the fin of a shark through the ocean, his strong arms making short work of the water as he reaches the other side. All our adventures are now on the other side of the bank. It is roughly 3pm on the first day and the sun blazes through cracks of light that the trees allow into the forest.
Felmor powers through the water dragging Mezari behind him reaching the other bank in no time at all. Grn'nak, seeing that everyone is safe, starts across the rocks. Bounding gracefully across the rocks, Grn'nak's jumps are easily enough to reach the rocks but he finds it difficult to keeps his footing as their seems to be a slippery coating on the rocks.
click here if it fails:
Grn'nak slips on the slippery surface of the rocks and falls into the water click here if the check is 10 or less: Grn'nak feels his foot slip out from under him and his body flies backwards as he smashes his head on the rocks and goes under the water.
Felmor dives headfirst into the water and swims like its the most natural thing in the world to him. He grabs mezari from under the water explodes out of the water in a hail of water droplets. Armandia and Brit take their time with the swimming and eventually get to the other bank, soaking wet but alive. Grn'nak throws his rope and it lands just a couple of feet where Felmor and Mezari are.
Brit's hand slips on the rock and he falls backwards, but manages to keep himself above the water with some quick swimming skills. Mezari is not so lucky though and manages to swallow a mouthfull of water, coughing and spluttering her head goes under the water.
Also, I will be out of town tonight and tomorrow. This will probably be my last post till Sunday. Please DMNPC Grn'nak as you wish to help keep the story moving. Thanks....I, too, will probably be unable to post until Sunday.
Felmor:
Knowing that under the surface of any water could lurk mortal danger you take a closer look at the river. You spot the odd fish darting past every now and again but nothing to be alarmed about Mezari:
Taking a careful look around the area you notice particular things about the site.
The river is relatively calm and there doesnt seem to be an undercurrent or any rips that could sweep you away. However by the colour of the water you can tell it gets deep about halfway and you would have to swim. It is also abundant with fishes and eels. Your sharp eyes pick out a few variaties that you recognize; the darkmoon water trout, the firesoot river salmon and the slasher eel, none of which are particularly dangerous, though the slasher eel is known to nip flesh if it is left exposed in the water. The rocks look particularly dangerous as closer observation reveals a thin layer of moss on the stones which would make them extremely slippery. As for the vegetation in the area it all seems fairly standard. Reeds and rushes line the banks of the river that would provide shelter for wading birds and other animals, whilst other plants grow in abundance near the edge of the river. These plants seem to be faviorites of the local deer as they keep edging out of the forest to take a bite out of them before darting back in the forest at the slightest noise. Grn'nak:
After closer observation you see that the river is fairly shallow up until about halfway when it gets much deeper. It will not be wadeable the whole way, you would have to swim.
Also there does seem to be a few solid trees closer to the bank on the other side Armandia:
You take the odd look behind you every now and again but dont spot any danger at all Brit wades into the river as the cold water quickly engulfs the lower half of his body. The water is very cold, much colder than this climate would suggest. The first boulder is only 10ft away and Brit quickly reaches it with Lord and Felmor close behind. Armandia wades in afterwards whilst Grn'nak stays on the bank examining the area with Mezari. As Brit reaches the rock and attempts to grab hold his fingers slip against the surface and he looses his balance...
Our heroes make their way north through the clearing, skirting the edge of the lake. The wildlife is abundant here and it is hard not to notice the difference between here and the inner forest. The fox who you saved follows behind Armandia for a while but then spots a bunch of other foxes and darts off into the trees. The lake is huge and it takes almost an hour to reach the northernmost tip. From here a river joins with the lake obstucting your path. The river is about 30ft across and seems to be rather calm. There are also several boulders lying in the river, the flowing water and the sun makes them look shiny, almost like gems.
Brit: You know no tribes in the area that could be associated with the necklace. In fact as far as you remember theres only one hobgoblin tribe even remotely close to falcon's hollow and thats the blood axe tribe down in the south of the vale
The fox devours the bird hugrily tearing flesh from bone.
The hobgoblin is still lying face down in the grass punctured by the two crossbow bolts. He is clad in very little, some leather boots, worn underwear and a rather shiny well polished suit of scale mail adorn the body. The hobgoblin's shortbow lies to the side in the grass along with his helmet, it too has been polished meticulously and bears the symbol of a sword set against a pulsing sun. A further search of the body discovers 2 silver pieces, a barbed short sword and a disgusting necklace of a petrified tougue pierced with a miniature blade.
A wave of healing energy floods out of Armandia's upstretched arms, those who it touches are sure they can hear the sound of a choir simultaneously chiming with the unsheathing of swords. Brit's wound completely closes up whilst the arrow drops out of his chest, leaving only a small scar. Grn'nak and Felmor's wounds also knit themselves back together leaving only a slight soreness where there was once huge gashes. The fox seems rather confused at the miraculous healing process, it tests its leg out with a few steps before giving a loud yap and running over to lick Armandia's boot.
Felmor's club comes up in an uppercut motion smashing from below and breaking its legs and one of its wings. It falls to the ground, twitching in its death spasms. The small fox growls a little at the corpse before attempting to walk back towards the forest. Its legs gives up on it after a few steps and curls up on the grass to lick its wound.
Our mysterious assailant jumps down from the tree into a barrel roll. He rolls up to his feet and stands up tall an arrow shaft protruding from his thigh. This grey skinned humanoid has a muscular build, shart pointed ears and bright beady orange eyes...a Hobgoblin! This particularly hobgoblin wears shiny scale armour and a polished helmet. He also has a prodigeous cleft upper lip. The hobgoblin gives a loud roar then turns tail and flee's into the forest. Mezari is quick to respond as she cocks the crossbow with a smooth straight action before firing a bolt straight through the trees into the creature's back. The hobgoblin thuds face first into the floor. Meanwhile Armandia circles round the crows and draws her longsword with a loud *Schniit!* noise, whilst the crows continue their assault on Felmor. The crow's array Felmor with their razor sharp claws, feathers flying everywhere. A couple of strikes manage to catch him off guard and Felmor is rewarded with two more large gashes on his shoulder and the back of his neck. With a grin, Grn'nak steps forward to attack. "Mmm...looks like chicken tonight. His axe flies through the air and cleaves a crow in two. Black feathers burst everywhere and half a crow lands at Grn'nak's feet.
Another arrow flies out of the trees with a whoosh but this time falls just short of its mark, thudding into the ground at armandia's feet. A shout sounds from the figure in the trees. Mezari and Grn'nak:
You can just about make out that the shout was a curse in goblinoid Meanwhile Mezari replies with a shot of her own. Her aim is true and the bolt sails through the air with grace before flying into the trees. A rather nasty and vicious shout is what mezari gets in return. Mezari:
You take a moment to study the crows and recognize them immediatly. These are Razorcrows, a particularly vicious and aggressive breed of crow native to the darkmoon area. Whereas members of the crow and raven family are normally scavengers these are birds of prey, hence the long claws, jagged beaks and particularly oily feathers. They are easily trained, and many people use them as messenger birds for valuable messages or pluck their feathers for oil. Mezari and Grn'nak:
Yet another curse in goblinoid...this time its one of the worst curses you can give in goblinoid...and goblins like their swearing! Armandia tries to follow her gnome friends example but falls short this time as her bolt goes flying into one of the nearby trees. The crows seem oblivious to their master's distress and swoop down on Felmor eager to scratch out his eyes. Felmor is engulfed in a swarm of black feathers as he weaves in and out trying to evade the birds. He manages to dodge most of the attacks but a claw catches him on the side of the face at the last moment leaving a deep scratch. Felmor reacts almost instantaneously bringing his club in wide arc towards the bird. The small moving target is difficult to conect with though and the club whooshes through the air just below the crow. Brit struggles to his feet looking down at arrow with shock and pain. He gives a low whistle which Lord responds to immediatly, sitting back on its hind legs but poised to move at speed if the command is given. The fox tries to move but gives up after a few steps, it collapses to the ground looking round with fear in its eyes. Meanwhile Grn'nak steps in front of Brit protectively, his mighty greataxe drawn and ready still dripping with zombie blood.
Brit's calm words coupled with the smell of the food in a time of crisis serve to relax the animal and it starts sniffing at the food, occassionally taking a bite whilst Grn'nak works the trap. The trap is of simple design and quite old, it looks like it has been used often as dried blood stains the side. A close inspection of the trap reveals that removing two bolts at the base will disable it completely. Grn'nak does this and the beartrap collapses into two halfs. The fox, released from its painful ordeal, curls up on the grass and starts to lick its wound. Meawhile while all this is going on Armandia has been deftly alert for danger keeping her eyes and ears peeled for another zombie or some other sort of danger. She spots it all too late as an arrow plunges out of the tree's some 50ft to the north and straight into Brit's chest! The shock of the arrow forces Brit to the floor as the fox starts to yap angrily towards the trees. A dark humanoid figure can just be seen squatting in the lower branches of the trees and as you all spot it a shrill whistle sounds from it and two oversized crows burst towards you. These crows are twice the size of normal ones! Their claws look as sharp as razor blades and their eyes pierce you with a beady glare.
Felmor:
Your quick sailor's eyes scan the area looking for anything out of place or "off" with this scene. You see or hear nothing but the gentle quacking of ducks on the lake making this situation all the more eerie Brit's boots kick up dirt and leaves as he runs full pelt towards the trap. He skids down to his knees in front of the fox who is understandably eager to get away from the trap and this towering humanoid running towards him. The fox starts to panic and almost tears its own leg off trying to escape. Felmor and Grn'nak both bring up the rear behind Brit looking down at the pained creature.
Our hero's journey on deeper into the forest eager to leave the smell and sight of this vicous little undead creature behind them. The undergrowth is still thick with leaves, plants and bushes as you trek on, the sun climbing higher in the sky, a constant reminder of the passing of time. After just over an hour the forest starts to thin and you start to the see more wildlife. Birds chirp from the branches whilst rodents and other furry animals scuttle through the grass snapping up insects as they go. It isnt long before the tree's start to give way and the absolutly enormous lake comes into view. The lake is huge, absolutly huge, with the opposite edge being barely visable through the thin mist that rests on the lakes surface. Off to the north you can just about make out a smaller river flowing into the lake whilst at the south east another wider one flows out. Compared to the rest of the forest and the recent encounter you just had this place seems remarkably peaceful. Wading birds storm through the reeds on the lakes edge whilst deer and bright red foxes creep up to water for a quick drink before darting back into the cover. The peace of this place makes the next sound you hear all the more painful... Off to the north you can hear a faint whining in the distance. A quick scan makes out a dash of brilliant red fur amongst the green grass along the lakes edge, a fox, caught in a large rusted bear trap. The whining intensifies as the fox tries to escape, tugging its leg whilst whimpering all the faster...
Armandia:
Surprise surprise! you have no idea if the symbols are religious :) Armandia places her hands on Grn'nak's leg as shoots of bright white energy extend from her fingers. They seep into the wound and knit together most of damage though the wound is still painful to the touch and has left a nasty scar.
Sifting through the kobolds sickly digusting remains Brit finds only the rags concealing what remains of the kobolds dignity and the wooden placard hanging from its neck. The rags are soiled and soggy, perhaps one of the most disgusting things you have ever touched. The wooden placard hangs with a frayed piece of string from the creatures neck. It has several symbols etched into it, a language you dont understand... Grn'nak and Mezari: The placard is written in Draconic but is barely legible, whoever etched it had terrible handwriting. It says "Shaman"
Pure concentration etched onto his face Brit plunges his small dagger into the creatures belly, halting the creatures lunge in mid flight. He promptly pulls the blade to the side, tearing a hole in the creatures stomach and emptying its guts onto the floor. The zombie drops to the floor seemingly dead as the small rat abiding in its skull skutters off into the undergrowth.
Hey Allen I attacked the zombie with a dagger not with my bow.
"Curse my lack of faith," Armandia mutters. "A holier person could have felled that abomination at once." she cautiously circles to the left of the monstrosity whilst slowly sliding her blade out of its sheath. ROUND 3 Felmor takes a step foward and assails the creature with both his weapons. This is no ships deck though and Felmor's manauvers get caught up in the nearby tree branches and plants, thwarting his moves. Mezari's steady aim proves true this time as another bolt launches through the air and plunges through the zombies rotting flesh before protruding from the other side. Again the creature does not seem to be slowed though as it launches itself at Grn'nak... Adrenaline pumps through our half-orc hero's mind, as he lets out a fierce roar before bringing his greataxe in a downward swing onto the creatures shoulder. The blade slices through the zombie's flesh like butter and severs the arm completely. Grn'nak doesnt have time to celebrate though as the zombie darts foward the other arm raised threateningly...
I hope you're not all waiting for ME
Felmor's boots crunch under the dry leaves as he moves towards the zombie. He spreads his legs wide and adopts a threatening position, eyes firmly fixed on his opponent. *Whoosh!* A crossbow bolt shoots past the combatants and promtly thuds into a nearby tree as Mezari sighs. "Holy Erastil?!? It smells like a deer left for rot...." chimes Brit's voice as he looses another arrow at the zombie. The arrow shoots through its fleshy body making yet another hole in the walking carcas. The Zombie does'nt even seem fazed by the arrow though and steps to the side of a rather sluggish overhand chop from Grn'nak before swiping at him with a rotting clawed arm. The blow catches Grn'nak in the thigh and with supernatural strength almost takes his legs out from under him. Grn'nak recovers quickly but pain wracks his left leg as he looks down to see blood flowing freely.
Armandia walks foward holding the glowing symbol of Iomadae towards the zombie. Flashing holy light shoots forth from the symbol in all directions searing putrid flesh from rotting bone as the beast is hit with its full force. The smell of burning flesh fills everyones nostrils as the kobold adopts an aggressive stance. The zombie stares up at Grn'nak with its one eye, if one could place an emotion on the kobolds face, it would be anger. ROUND 2
Initiative Order
Felmor mutters a vile sailor's oath, rarely heard on dry land. He draws his club and dagger whilst looking around on all sides of the group, trying to spot additional ambushers whilst moving closer to the ladies. He spots no more foes but as the mist rolls back he catches a glimpse of the source of the disturbance... A strange creature, it is a small walking kobold corpse. It wears only a few rags and has a wooden placard hanging from its neck decorated in archaic symbols. Flesh and scales rot off the bones as the creature stumbles foward, arms swaying from side to side. Meanwhile a small bat shoots from Mezari's shoulder off into the higher branches of the trees. The click of a crossbow is heard as Mezari loads her weapon. Britton gives a low whistle that seems to to resonate with Lord, who stays still but tenses his hind muscles preparing to strike. Meanwhile Britton trains his bow on the small area of the forest hand at the ready... The first to speak Grn'nak addresses the group "There's a small humanoid about 40' out in the woods. It's no bigger than the gnome." He bravely moves foward whilst drawing his axe, catching sight of the terrible creature. Shuffling foward, the disgusting little kobold zombie stumbles mindlessly ahead seemingly unaware of our heroes and almost walks straight into Grn'nak who proceeds to smash half the creatures skull away with the edge of his axe. The zombie still stands though and shakes its head thoughouly, a small rat scurries out of the skull skweeking angrily at Grn'nak. Everyone else now spies the assailant and Brit looses an arrow which shoots past the zombie thudding into the mud behind it.
The five companions trek north through the forest, their voices echoing amongst the trees, bouncing back and forth in the dark. Little light penetrates the canopy of the Darkmoon forest, creating an air of oppressive gloom and casting a shadow over our party. The light flickers through the leaves casting shapes among the shadows and playing upon the eyes. At first, you find the forest easy to navigate, the trees are spaced far and there is little undergrowth to hinder you. Occassionaly you hear the odd logger in the distance singing a song and the sound of activity in the camp still reaches your ears. But after about an hour or so the foilage becomes thicker and thicker and light mist rolls in our party's path. Strange plants brush against your legs and seems as if you must wade through a sea of bracken with every step. The wildlife also seems to leap to life. Large crow-like birds caw from the low branches whilst the occasional shuffle from the side of your path indicates a creature you have no doubt disturbed. It is a short while after this change that you all hear a loud shuffling approaching from the east of your path about 50ft away... Grn'nak and Mezari:
Through the mist you can make out a small humanoid figure, no taller than Mezari. It is hard to make out exactly what or who it is due to the poor light and thick undergrowth but it is moving slowly and making no effort to conceal itself Lord growls deeply at the sound but takes a step or two backwards keeping low to the floor...
Brit's knowledge geography check: You wrack your brains but cant remember the best place to cross. All you remember is that the river is narrower at the northern end of Droskmere lake.
Milon places one hand on his hip and speaks hurriedly, seemingly eager to share his information. "Well no-ones seen the witch in over a decade, but then again no-ones ever dared go in her house so she could still be around. Watch out she's a nasty old crone. As for the ruins I've only been there once and the only thing i noticed was an unusual amount of wolves about. I mean theres always wolves in the Darkmoon woods, but this place...there was a lot! Oh and one other thing, watch out for these" he says holding up the bear trap in his hand "some bastard's been setting these things all over forest. Ol' Jack got caught in one an it was three hours afore anyone found im, the man wont walk for at least another week, nasty things they are, that... Milon goes to continue talking but a loud voice issues from the log building "RHODAM!!" it shouts angrily. "S@&~. I have to go" mutters Milon "I wish i could go with you but my family needs the coin, may Erastil guide your path" and with that Milon enter's the building leaving you standing on the wooden steps.
An eagerness shines in Milon's eyes. "Yes yes of course! I didnt even know Laurel had found a cure! Thank the gods, my nephew may yet live! Now Ulizmila's hut...its a two hour hike west from the elder tree of the forest, if you get lost get to higher ground and look for a small clearing, the huts in there. Now there aint no cave systems this side of the mountains, but theres a few dwarven ruins that should have at least a few ironblooms. The closest and safest is Droskar's Crucible, its only small but you can't miss it, just keep travelling east from Ulizmila's hut then when you reach the edge of the forest follow the foot of the mountain north until you reach it. ok? now git going, you can enter the forest from here, the sooner you go the less people'll die, including my nephew. I assume that was everything you needed?
Milon turns round from the steps of the building and looks around curiously. His eyes rest upon Brit and the group but there is no smile or greeting upon his face. "I havnt got time for jokes Brit, I'm busy, what do you and your friends want" he says indicating the group.
Brit:
Your keen eyes scan the loggers working the cutyard trying to recall any of their faces. Most of them seem to be new here, able bodies come to escape whatever life they left behind. You recognize a couple of men from your childhood, stupid ignorant men with little brains or wits. Searching your memories you recall one of them is called Brin but whether he would remember you or react favorably you dont know. As you all walk the 200 odd metres to the guarded building, stares and sideways glances assault you from all sides. The guards shift their spears at your approach but as they do a short man with bunched muscles and long red hair emerges out of the forest carrying a bear-trap. The guards nods to him as he approaches the door "G'day Milon" greets one of the guards...
The squeeky voiced smaller man stands up taller at this and says proudly "You should go talk to Mr Krookshavits then, he's the boss around here". The larger man folds his arms and gives his companion a patronizing look, "They know who to go see Bill, they're here on business" "I was just reminding them Ben!" sounds the other man's grating voice "They might have forgotten!" "Yeah yeah whatever" says the larger man, dismissing his companion. "Come on lets get back to work, the boss wants us shift some flowerpots after this, heavens knows why!" and with that he walks back to the wagon, his smaller companion trailing after him. "The boss is in the big guarded building!" shouts Bill as an afterthought.
"He's busy" replies the larger man gruffly. "Are you here on consortium business?" says the smaller man in a high pitched voice, "Theres no entry except on consortium business". He recieves a non too subtle elbow in the ribs from his companion for this comment.
Dust clouds form in your wake as you set a heavy pace to quickly get to the lumber consortium main camp. Tree stumps litter the plains around the path, like scars upon the landscape they are the only reminders of the size the once proud darkwood forest used to be. The path is well worn and used regularly. You pass many lumberjacks and hired hands going to and from the camp, most don't acknowledge your existence but a few give a subtle nod to Brit and sometimes the whole group. It takes just over an hour to reach the main camp, which consists of five sturdy-looking log buildings surrounded by wide carts and precariously balanced log piles. Sawdust chokes the air itself, whilst the breeze scatters the woodchips to the wind as they rise and fall to the beat of the axe. You count roughly twelve loggers and lumberjacks milling around, hauling logs and strapping them to the wagons. A couple of them are armed and seem to be guarding the largest of the buildings. Two of the lumberjacks working on the cart closest to you have spotted you. The smallest of them, a scrawny man with long red hair points your way and says something to his companion. The two of them wander over your way, axes slung over their backs. "What business you got ere'?" says the larger of the two men, a surly muscular man with shoulder length greying hair and a full bushy beard.
You all plod along the well worn path on your way out of the town as Grn'nak and Brit start up their conversation. It doesnt take long to get to the town gates and after that the five of you tread the dusty, woodchip coated path north of the town. The vast mountain of tree's that is the darkwood forest looms ahead. It stretches as fair as you can see east to west, the only other visable landmark being the massive volcano visable to the north east, Droskar's crag. After following the path for barely ten minutes you come across a crossroads...
Outside the line of Sullen townsfolk has gotten longer...much longer. The line now stretches down the street followed by the hacking, spluttering coughs of the sick. When you all step outside a scawny woman in a long dirty dress barges past you "Took your sweet time din't you!" she says "Hope you find a cure" The sun is now fully over the horizon as the dawn's warm rays embrace you.
"Well whatever you do, do it fast! there's people dieing every day and that queue outside aint gettin' any shorter. In fact...You've been in here way too long so git! go on! find those ingredients for me before we all end up dead!" says Laurel, shoeing you out of her shop. Brit: You know that Milon normally works at the Lumber consortium's main camp. To get there you need to follow the path north of the town then turn right at the crossroads.
Brit Knowledge local check:
Ulizmilla is a local witch said to live deep in the darkmoon forest. From what you know she is thought to be a mean, crafty old woman who had a habit of trading knowledge and magic for obscure things such as sight and years off your life. You know roughly where she makes her home, (in the far north of the forest), as one of your fellow woodsman, a man named milon rhodam, once bragged to you that he had been there and told you where it was should you yourself want to go. Laurel pipes up after Mezari's comment. "If you want to know where she lives the best person to go see would be Milon Rhodam, he knows where pretty everything is in the forest. Hell, he might even know whether theres any mines nearby too."
I'm familiar with the various plants and their uses...etc. Upon hearing this Laurel looks up from her work, then when Felmor and Grn'nak have finished speaking she wanders over, a vial still in her hands. "You seem to know much err...Mezari was it? she says addressing the gnome. "I'm glad to hear that you know of root but well...all the swampland within a 10 days hike of Droskar's crag, all the way down to Olfden, is wildly unpredictable. There's superheated mud pools, boiling hot geyseys and the land near them aint even that stable too. Take the last merchant caravan that came this way, they hired a cheap guide, took a wrong turn at painter's pot and the ground itself swallowed them up...only one poor sod make it back here and he was lucky! So if this root is really found under swampland its not from round here..." she pauses for a second seemingly caught in a moment of insight, then rushes over to her huge book and picks it up. "This book was written by my Grandmother" she says excitedly "But she got all her knowledge from a Witch called Ulizmila. Bit of a crazy one, my granny had to trade her sight to get the crone to teach her, but if anyone knows how to harvest the root, it'll be her!"
Brit:
lol surprise surprise you know nothin, you can take knowledge nature for the tree as well though Mezari: Elderwood moss: dark red moss, that only grows on the eldest tree in the forest like Laurel says. The moss is extremely good at healing internal wounds and the smell once brewed into a tea is said to be divine. You also know where the eldest tree in the forest is, it is a two hour hike(at your pace) directly east of the lake in the middle of the forest.
Rat's Tail: you definetly remember this one, as the process for pickling the root was drilled into your memory when you became a witch. The rat's tail root, once properly pickled, is used for summoning a replacement familiar for a witch. It normally grows deep in the soil underneath swamp land. Ironbloom Mushrooms: They are indeed a dwarven delicacy and are usually found growing in places where dwarves frequent, such as mines or other dwarven structures, where the mushrooms feed off the thick metals such as Iron (hence the name).
Laurel starts to get back to her work pouring mixtures and herbs into various vials whilst chatting away. "Now im sure you have lots of questions so ask me while I work, those people tha' already got the taint need something to keep em going whilst your busy in the forest"
Laurel stops working for the first time since you set foor in the shop. "Oh so your the ones deldrin recruited for this, I'll tell you now Brit I'm not even convinced this will work but were out of options right now, I've tried everything! and to make matters worse Deldrin only went and got the whole town worked up last night didnt he, so now i've got every bugger with a scabbed knee or chest cold queued up outside thinking they've got the blackscour taint too!" She says pointing at the door. "I swear, that deldrin...he's got the strength of an ox but sometimes I think he's got the brains to match." She smirks to herself at this comment but quickly shakes it off. "No time for smiles" she says to herself as she wanders over to a large desk and pulls out an enormous old book. "Anyway..." she says, tipping her glasses closer to the edge of her nose "Theres three ingredients I dont have for this that I'd like you to fetch, if you can find them that is. There's Elderwood moss, a dark red moss that only grows on the oldest tree in the forest, wherever that is. A specially pickled root called rat's tail, sounds like hoojoo to me. And seven ironbloom mushrooms stunty little things that only grow in dark places thick with metal, a favorite among dwarves, or so I hear."
Laurel looks up, pure anger etched on her face, but she when see's it is Brit she softens slightly...only slightly. She then starts busying herself over her equipment again, flicking some sort of green mushy substance on the floor. "I'm not in the mood for your jokes young Brit, as you can see I'm in middle of a situation here." She says as a puff of smoke erupts in front of her face. "So if your visiting just to bring me some especially juicy rabbit you've caught now isnt the time.
You all enter the shop and are assaulted by an explosion of sights and smells. The smell of burnt earth and spicy incense chokes the air of the cramped, mud-tracked shop. Bunches of dried herbs hang from the ceiling, along with dangling pots, presses, alchemical apparatuses, and glassware of more arcane purposes. Pouches of rare plants, jars of colored glass, and all manner of dried, preserved, and jellied animal parts fill high shelves and tables doing double duty as displays and workspaces. In the shop’s rear, a rail-thin woman with severe-looking spectacles and hair pulled back tightly busies herself between an overpacked rack of herbs, and a large pot loudly bubbling over with thick gray froth. Over the din of her work and without looking up, the woman shouts impatiently "Knew it was too good to be true! Go on then, tell Laurel whats wrong with ya"
The large man smiles a wicked toothy grim at Brit's comments whilst flexing his rippling muscles and shifting his weight to side. As he does this Armandia steps up and asks his name in that soothing voice of hers. "None of your business wench!..." The thug goes to carry on his insults but is cut short by Grn'nak's growl. "I've been polite, I'm here to try and help, and yet you stand in our way. Kreed may run this town, but do you think he's going to pay to support your family once your gone? I strongly suggest you let Brit by, or we can find out exactly how your family will get by..." The man looks clearly unsettled for a moment and looks round at his friends before laughing it off, shouting "Hah! My family'll be fine they aint e'en got the taint and I bet I aint either! Bah! I'm off ta earn some coin. If you wanna let the fools ahead be my guest!" he shouts to the rest of the line as he storms off angrily. The rest of his friends stay in the line but without their apparant leader they shuffle uneasily and avoid eye contact. A few of the more friendly members of the line nod and motion for you to head to the front.
Your responses result in a round of mutterings and raised eyesbrows from most of the crowd. Most talk between themselves for a minute, arguing most likely about whether it is worth letting you in ahead of them. A few of the larger, more burly men in the crowd are still overtly hostile though and glare at each of you whilst the crowds mills around. Suddenly the largest of them, a bald rugged man with a large scar across his neck steps towards Brit. "I don' care what in the hells that damn sherrif ses! Kreed runs this town not Baleson, now get in line and wait like all'a us...or am I gonna havta' make ya...?"
Brit confidently strides to the front of the QUEUE ;) drawing unfriendly stares as he does. You reach the entrance and attempt to enter when suddenly angry voices pipe up all around you. "Hey! Dung for breath! what makes you so special?!", "Back of the line!!" and similar comments echo in your ears. You turn around to see an extremely angry, hostile crowd glaring at you. |
