"Never thought it was," Ping says. "What do we do?"
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"What's going on," Ping asks in a very, very quiet voice.
When Mos lets go of her hand, Ping is surprised to find herself wishing he'd grab it again. She hesitates for a moment before hurrying to follow him as he races off towards the commotion.
Wait, did we remember the bait? ;P
No worries. Make sure the bills are paid and you're doing alright. We'll be here.
Take care of yourself, mate. We'll be here when you get better.
As they delve deeper into the woods, Ping isn't able to hear much above the thunder of her own heartbeat.
"As Mos says, we need silver. As for if werebears are evil or not." Ping shrugs. "Many are rangers or druids. Make of that what you will."
"Lycanthropy? No, it's not all that common, at least from what I've read," Ping answers, though her confidence disappears as she says where she got such knowledge.
As Ping's conscious mind deals with being flustered, her unconscious mind goes back through all she knows and recalls. If she'd be capable of logical thought at that moment, she would have berated herself for acting like a silly girl. Instead, the analytical parts of her mind were silent, lest the poor gnome's head began to overheat more than it has. So, it was with a bit of surprise that Ping realizes that she's read about creatures like the small one whose tracks she'd noticed. She blinks, the blush fading quickly. "Do Kuiper and Oleanne know that Marksim is a werebear?"
Ping looks down as Mos squeezes her hand. As she realizes that she's been holding his hand this entire time, her face turns beet red. What? I--I'm--What?!
"A cave bear?" Ping's tone and expression are incredulous as she looks back at the tracks. "Are you telling me that Marksim is actually a cave bear that walks on two legs?!"
Ping shivers at Spiro's comment and looks around for a moment before turning her pouting face up at the half-elf. "Don't tease me like that!" Her voice is low, lest she drown out any sounds that would warn them of a coming ambush.
"This," Ping says before using a bit of magic to highlight the small, clawed footprints she sees.
What in the world? "Am I seeing things? What else is in this forest besides orcs?!"
Seeing the smaller footprint, Ping freezes.
Glad to hear the pupper is on the road to recovery.
Unaware of the effect it has on Mos, Ping clings to his arm as she remembers the fights against the goblins that turned undead in the ruined watchtower and the bandits on the road into Milborne. Orcs are an altogether different breed, and her mind fills with images of what terrible fates could befall her and her companions. Her eyes dart about, looking to each sound she hears as they delve deeper into the woods.
Ping's brows knit as she clenches her jaw. For a moment, she holds her breath, counting to a hundred by threes. She gets to twenty-seven before she lets out her breath and slumping her shoulders. "You're right, darn it," she mutters as she looks away from Mos. She does hold the rogue's hand a little more tightly, though.
Ping shakes her head. "I-I c-can't! Not today."
"A dozen?!" Ping's voice cracks as she looks at the others with eyes wide as saucers. Surely, they cannot be agreeing to this madness. Surely not!
I'm sorry to hear that. Here's hoping things go well. I know that pet troubles are almost as bad as family troubles.
"H-how b-b-b-big of a band," Ping asks, her voice shaking at the thought of having to fight something even worse than goblins. She doubts she could fool them with the same trick she'd used when ambushing the goblins on their way to Millborne.
"That might be more comforting if one of use didn't just have a chipped dagger defend themselves with," Ping says, though she does relax a little more with Mos by her side.
Ping finds it hard to relax after learning that the woman is a friend, or at least known, to Kuiper. The wolves look large enough to make her not much more than a snack to them. I hope they aren't hungry.
Ping tries to swallow her fear as she hears the growls. She has already used her most potent spell for the day, and if the growling things are not animals, she doubts she can do much to help stave them off. Ulfbrecht can feel her quaking as she shrinks behind him. "I pray they are just mean beasts and not akin to what became of the goblyns," she whispers a little more loudly than she intended to.
Ping stays close to Ulfbrecht and Mos as they enter the Thornwood. Her eyes dart about as she keeps quiet and listens. Twenty years is more than enough time for orcs and goblyns to come back, even if their blood ran deep and thick the last time they were seen. "Is he talking about the hogs or the orcs," she asks the dwarf and the halfling when she hears Spiro talking about finding little piggies.
Hey all, hope you're getting ready for a great Christmas with your family and friends. I wanted to give y'all a heads up that I won't be able to post for a couple of weeks due to work and Holiday stuff going on. Bot me if needed.
"You said Maksim's father sends him to Hog Brook to look for truffles? I think you are right and that is the best place to start looking. Hopefully we find him unharmed and soon."
"I-if we help find this boy, Maksim, will you help us find Jenneleth," Ping asks.
Ping looks up at Mos, uncertain what to make of his show of support. It seems the past few days have well and truly shaken her and her world.
Ping hesitates, remembering what happened at the crossing, but after a moment, she sighs and steps beside Ulfbrecht. "She is. Taken by a demon in the middle of the night on her way home yestereve, as near as we can tell. She--" The words catch in Ping's through as she realizes what she is about to say. A friend? I barely know her, but--but I did trust her. That's as close to a friend as I seem to have. "She is a friend," Ping says softly after her hesitation, sounding almost scared by the words coming from her mouth. "She is a dear friend and I want to see her safely back to her home."
Hearing the ranger's name and his purpose does help Ping relax somewhat, but she still keeps close to Ulf as she reveals herself. "I fear we have not," she says. "Though given that we also didn't find him in these things' bellies, perhaps that is a good thing."
Before Ping can say anything to Ulf, she hears the apparent woodsman call out and tries to unobtrusively put the dwarven priest between herself and the large new comer. I don't trust this. Not at all!
Ping quickly kills the other two frogs before looking over to the others. "I-Is that it?"
Ping rushes up to the closest frog and slits its throat. All the while, she prays to whatever gods may listen to her that there's not more of the huge amphibians waiting to pounce.
Ping gulps down some air as her hands start to shake. She puts the marbles back in her pouch and reaches for her dagger.
Color Spray:
A rainbow cone springs forth from the caster’s hand, causing nearby creatures to fall asleep. The spell can affect a number of creatures equal to 1d4 plus the caster’s level. The cone is 5 feet wide and 25 feet long. The closest creatures in the cone are affected first. The result of the spell depends upon the HD of the targeted creatures. Creatures of 2 HD or less are struck unconscious for 2d4 rounds; creatures of 3 to 4 HD are blinded for 1d4 rounds; and creatures of 5 HD or greater are stunned for one round. Creatures of the same level or HD as the caster, and all creatures with 5 HD or greater may make a wisdom saving throw to shake off the color spray. Sightless creatures are not affected by color spray. The material components of this spell are small colored objects.
Ping fumbles at her pouch before pulling out several small, brightly colored marbles. She holds them between her fingers as she frantically chants and points her palms at the three closest frogs. "Պրիզմայի միջով լույսի ներքո համտեսեք ծիածանը: Թեքերը վերցնում են ձեր գուլպաները:"
No worries. Take your time my dude.
Ping keeps to the back of the group, staying by the mule and the horse. Being about the right size to be easily swallowed whole, she has no desire to get any closer to the frogs than she has to.
"Maybe we should see Kuiper, first. A guide could save us more time than it takes to secure his services," Ping says.
No worries, UDM. More than willing to let you catch your breath before the next plunge. ;)
Still here. I think we're ready to go after whatever stole Jenneleth away.
The GM's back from dealing with work. He'll probably be posting soon.
Ping relaxes some as it appears that she isn't about to be lynched. She holds her tongue, waiting for their answer to Ulf's questions.
Ping looks from the mob to Auld Grizzler, wanting nothing more than to hide somewhere, but the old dwarf had told them where to start looking. It would be a poor repayment indeed to let him be killed by misdirected outrage. She puts a hand on his arm, hoping that with Ulf's words that would calm him. "Not even three days have passed since we saw the bones of dead goblins rise, shedding their flesh like winter clothing. I wouldn't be so quick to judge what the Pickmaster here has sad as nothing more than the fruit of his cups," Ping says, silently wondering why she is sticking her neck out for someone she's just met. "We have a path to follow, and the trail grows old. Will it grow older while we argue over the fate of the one who has given us a place to start looking for your daughter," she asks Haldelar while hoping that none can guess that her heart is fluttering madly in her chest or how hard it is for her to keep her knees steady as she faces down the much bigger folk gathered to Haldelar's side.
Ping makes note of the name Ahlaksiz and of the mention of the Gleaming Glade. "I fear Spiro is right. We need to make haste. I just hope we're not too late to save Lady Jenneleth," the little gnome says, quietly amazed at what she's saying. Since when did she care about anyone else besides herself or her father?
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