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Well, here goes. Hope they roll poorly!
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Not good! Ping's elation is doused by the sound of axes on wood, and with Mos off in the trees, she starts to panic. In a desperate move to by more time, she hurriedly chants as quietly as she can manage and moves her arms about as she pulls on the arcane threads of the weave. Four, angrily glowing, green wisps appear in front of the leader of the orcs and the three orcs closest to the tree and begin zooming about their heads.
No worries, I've been dealing with some stuff the past couple of weeks. (Think car and phone trouble, not family trouble.) Not really sure what to do here. Ping's out of spells that can do more than distract and she's not going to do much more than bleed out if she tries to fight.
Seeing the orcs fan out, she squeezes Mos' hand. "Oh! It worked!" She keeps her voice low, but even behind the excitement, there's an edge of worry.
Noticing that her spell hasn't done much to get the orcs away from the werebear cub, she looks to Mos and hopes he has a plan. "I could try some pretty lights, but will that work to draw them off?"
Ghost Sound:
GHOST SOUND, Level 0 wizard, 0 illusionist CT 1 R 150 ft. D 1 rd./lvl. SV intelligence negates SR yes Comp V, S, M Eerie rattles and wails, wolfish howls, warm laughter, quiet conversation, the rumble of thunder and clash of swords, the soft patter of bare feet; all these are sounds that can be created with this spell. Thses sounds can seem to rise, recede, approach or remain constant as the caster desires. Virtually any type of sound can be produced, emanating from anywhere within range, though the volume cannot exceed as much noise as four normal humans could produce. Small pieces of ear wax are needed to cast this spell.
With everything feeling as if it's going out of control all at once, Ping grabs onto a desperate idea. Orcs are dumb, she doesn't need Mos to tell her that much, but panic often robs one of sense, and Ping has little enough of that at the best of times if truth be told. A darting hand pulls out a lump of earwax as she begins to weave a spell. Her whispered chant takes on a life of its own as aims for a spot she can barely see fifty yards to the south. After a few moments of franticly moving the arcane threads about with her gesturing, she blows on the wax. For a moment, it seems as if nothing happens. Then from the spot she had chosen comes the great, angry growl of some massive beast. As the echoes fade, Mos can hear Ping whispering over and over again, almost as fast as a hummingbird's beating wings, a prayer lifted up to any god that will listen. "Please work!"
"I tried to stop you, but you were too quick," Ping whispers back, equally frightened by the encounter. Seeing Ulfbrecht moving forward, Ping tries to think of something she could do to help. "Orcs are pretty stupid, right? Maybe I can lead them away or scare them off? I have a spell that can create a bear's roar."
They still could. :P
Thanks! And yeah! I'm loving the old-school porcine orcs!
Bot me if needed. I'm not up to posting tonight. Tomorrow's my last day at my old job, and Thursday's my first day at the new one. (They wanted someone quick.) I have Change Self prepared, so I was thinking of something with that, just need to look up what I can actually do.
Ping reaches out as Mos moves away, but he's gone into the brush before she can stop him. After a moment of fretting, she stays put, not trusting her skills in stealth to keep them, and more specifically, herself, from being discovered. What do I do? I can't just leave a child to whatever fate the orcs have for him, can I? Father could. Father would have, but...
"Never thought it was," Ping says. "What do we do?"
"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.
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