Search Posts
And we is back! My thanks as always to your collective patience... very much appreciated all. Now on with the Orc Hunt!
As you poke at prints, react to phantom sounds of the fauna, or mull love ballads devoted to wyld women - it would seem naught but the morass of tracks would give you indication of where boy, bear or orc may be found... ... until first Spiro, then Mos give you all pause. Spiro/Mos: Your keen ears pick up the distant clamour of wood breaking... intermixed with a moaning growl... and what could be pigs squealing.?! It is not near, perhaps on the edge of your hearing... but you have a direction!
Hey All - am back at work (almost at 75% lol), but as per the "to do" list was not handled in my stead so been chasing my tail since returning earlier in the week. Will be back up to speed by the weekend - please bear with :)
Getting better folks but still on the mend, will hopefully get something up this week and get after those pesky orcs :) Appreciate your collective patience as always.
Apologies all - I've now managed to pick up a flu that's become a chest infection... oh the joys. Will be a few days yet before I'm up and posting properly. Appreciate the patience.
Aye his recovery is coming along nicely. Now trying to limit him over doing it as he's feeling better and up to usual mischief. Good to see you back Al - work has kicked my butt this week so might be later before I'm able to move us on.
Neither Ping or Hûƞidark hear anything untoward, focussed instead perhaps on thoughts of the trail and what made them...
As you move further into the wood, you collectively find following the booted trail of orcish steps easy enough - however the bear paw prints become more fleeting suggesting the creature is trying to be more elusive...
Ping's Ken: Casting your mind back you recall a book Malver had in his library entitled: Bestiae Quae Ambulant: A Treatise of Lycanthropes. It was never a tome that interested you much, save for the art of the beast-folk within... You focus - visualising turning the pages until you recall the one on creatures named as Ursus Lycanthropus: Werebears are the most physically powerful of the common lycanthropes. Werebears are often rangers or druids in their human forms: hapless souls now possessed of a power they didn’t expect or desire. Werebears roam their wilderness homes, protecting this territory from all interlopers. In human form, they appear as a very hairy human, typically male. The animal form is that of a grizzly or cave bear...
As you gather round the print, there is a moment of panic when you realise a band of hunting orcs are loose in the wyld and your party could be on the menu... Collective heads raise and furtive glances are exchanged, but any concern comes to naught. The orc trail seems easy enough to follow, these are brutes for whom stealth is an afterthought...
Ulf:
While your ken of the surface flora and fauna is not as keen as those of the Underdēop, you have encountered enough Scræf-bera to know this print is akin to those brutes, albeit on a cub-like scale (and with traits you'd normally see on a two-legged walker). You also discern that the strange print was first, and its likely the orcs pursue this quarry... Ping performs a minor incantation and the strange tracks seem to become clearer when the undergrowth around them blur. As Ulf then attempts to discern the nature of the unusual tracks highlighted by Ping, the rest of you gather in readiness of what could be next...
Ping: You focus your attention upon the footprints amidst the morass of orc boot indents... What's clear is those footprints would align with what you'd expect Maksim's to be... but only if he was part animal... perhaps with elements of wolf, bear or badger? but you're pretty sure its not feline.
Wee pupdate: He's come through surgery and we're picking him up today. All signs are good he'll be fixed for the better, but have 8 weeks of recovery to work though (and staffs aren't known for their sensible compliance lol). Anyway I'm off all next week to help nurse my boy so good news I'll have plenty of time to get this Orc Hunt a rollin'. Appreciate the patience all :)
As the majority of the party seem to focus on your pretty gnome or wild patches of wynterberry, Ulf calmly stoops and surveys the terrain. While not the normal deep paths he has trodden, the dwurv's canny eyes pick up the signs and prints of when the orcs have passed. Ulf:
You discern they are perhaps a dozen in number, maybe slightly less - it is difficult to be sure as many prints overlap each other. They seem to be travelling light in the main, as you have seen the deep prints of heavily armoured orogs and the like in the Underdēop. Thankfully none of these suggest such fell foes... As he draws your collective attention to the marks of orc band, Ping notices something odd about a set of tracks almost obscured by the brutish bootmarks... Ping:
Your keen eyes note that a smaller print is mixed in with the morass of orc footprints... one that would match say a gnome, hobbit or boy.... save for the claw marks... ;)
Collectively you begin to move through the tangled wyld of The Thornwood, all ears and eyes looking collectively for any signs of the orcs or the boy...
Kuiper shakes his head at Spiro's question, his brow furrowed in worry; "There was always roving bands in the Shire - least until The Scouring... Since then the orcs and hobbegobylns tend to keep to the Great Rock Dale as their territory... Yet none of those tribes seemed to be on the march or raiding abroad... We'd have surely known if they had..."
Oleanne's eyes narrow as she turns the tooth-knife over gently, then she rises and makes off into the gloomy forest beyond, her soft words drifting in her wake; "Maen nhw bron yn ddwsin ohonyn nhw. Dewch o hyd i'r bachgen a dewch o hyd i gerddwr dwfn yr orciaid a byddaf yn dweud wrthych chi am y dant ac i bwy yr oedd yn perthyn ar un adeg..." Kuiper nods, turning toward the group; "Ye'll have my word Deep-walker. We will seek all who are lost or in danger... Oleanne said they number near a dozen, and to find the boy, find the orcs... then she will tell of where the tooth comes from..." He hefts his own gear and hands Ulbrecht a hunting horn carved and ornate; "Good hunting. If you find him a blast on this will bring us running..."
Gang - just a heads up my staffy mutt has been having some intermittent lameness issues that we've investigated with an MRI - turns out he has some spinal disc misalignment that are pinching nerves - so he needs pretty invasive op to give him longevity of movement. Got that scheduled for 13th of this month, but been dealing with the news and decision has left me and the missus emotionally and mentally spent. Hopefully get back to the game o'er the weekend, but please bear with in the meantime.
The woman's eyes flit o'er your company, settling on Ulf as she grips her strange blade with pride; "Dant y ddraig... Dracan tōþ..." Her voice is soft but harsh and clipped, before she continues her words toward Kuiper; "Mae'r bechgyn wedi troi'n Kuiper. Dydy e ddim yn gwybod am ei ddawn... a nawr nid ef yw'r unig un rydyn ni'n ei hela. Mae orciaid yn y coed... Mae eu hesgidiau'n mwdlyd ar bob llwybr ac mae arna' i ofn eu bod nhw'n hela Maksim..." She chirps, and scowls animately as she imparts her ken to the ranger, who in turn explains; "Oleanne says the boy is being hunted by accursed orcs... A band run loose in the Woods, and we need to find him before they do... She asks if you can be trusted. If you can hunt them to the West while she and her wolves will hunt them deeper into the Thornwood. I will go Southwest toward the Bless'ed Wood. What say you all?"
Kuiper holds still, one hand slipping a throwing ax from his belt as the other extended in caution as he hails aloud in a strange tongue; "Rydyn ni'n gwybod bod llygaid yn ein gwylio ni. Ond ai llygaid ffrind neu elyn ydyn nhw? Pa rai ydyn nhw?" Druídic:
"We know eyes watch us. But are they the eyes of friend or foe? Which are thee?" His words are met with silence, save the now apparent low growling... The slight movement from the undergrowth ahead, then a reply, quiet and clipped is returned in the same melodic tongue; "Ffrind i ti Kuiper. Pwy yw'r lleill?" Druídic:
"Friend to you Kuiper. Who are the others?" Kuiper keeps his hand extended in caution, then nods towards you all; "She is a friend..." He addresses the wild voice gesturing toward the party; "These are my friends Oleanne. We seek those lost. The boy Maksim, and...others... There may be more who need our help..."
Kuiper chuckles initially at Ping's whispered comment; "Hard to tell with their shared tusks an' snouts Little Mistress... but I'll wager orcs are more likely to blodd sausage out of u..." Ping & Ulfbrecht:
Both of you feel eyes upon you from the surrounding wild... and also the rumble of animalistic growls... His words give pause as both Ping and Ulf sense something is amiss...
The big ranger nods at the group's agreement; "My thanks. When the lad is found... an' Jenneleth, then perhaps a sojourn to The Gleaming Glade..."
Further up the river nearby Kuiper's farm hold is a ferry sit, where two small rowboats sit on each bank. "An honestly ferry. Not always honoured, but all the locals know o' it. Maksim included." Within a short space of time, Kuiper and one of his farm-hands ferry your group safely across to the mouth of the Hog Brook. He hails his man goodbye and bids you all enter The Thornwood behind him. "These woods used to be more dangerous so the old timers say. Then some two score years past The Count brought in vagabondi like yerselves, cleaned the upper woodlands out of all orcs, goblyns and foul creatures. The Midsommer Scourge they call it... Bloody business so they say." As you fan deeper up the Hog Brook, some of you note signs of wild pigs having rooted up the ground, but nothing untoward. The ground is heathered and heavy rooted making progress slow and any tracks difficult to spot.
Will do Adam - enjoy the festives with family and hope work isn't too taxing brother!
Kuiper nods and smiles warmly; "We shall find them both... together little one."
Kuiper nods; "I know not o' there fell intent, but if you and your friends have had dealings with that murderous clergy, I'll defer to your kenning. Yet I would say that this side of the river, betwixt myself and The Lady Finella , we would know of them..." He points across the river, towards the opposite bank; "My own eyes have seen little sign of him this side of the river. Maksim's Da does send him to Hog Brook yonder to gather herbs and pick trufa unearthed by the rooting of the wild pigs... Perhaps we start there, less the Gleaming Glade is your stern intent, tho' Count Parlfray may know more o' what price of victory o'er the Necromancer..? Regardless ye have my blade and ken of this realm while we seek those lost!"
The big ranger holds and listens intently, brow furrowing as Ping and Ulfbrecht speak their words. "So she is taken. By a daemon ye say? A creature that serves the Cult of the Reaper no less... Fell tidings indeed..." He mulls his words, as if recounting them to himself before he speaks; "The Gleaming Glade is an ill storied place. It is the site of a great battle betwixt a powerful Necromancer and Lord Parlfray's ancestor centuries past. The legends tell how a goodly host rallied to defeat the wicked mage, yet as he was struck down, the blackheart accursed the forest - blighting the trees and rendering the place lifeless... Garyld speaks true as o'er the years it has drawn the odd madman or death prophet, but I've nay heard of any such cult visiting upon that barren place of late." Kuiper rubs his dimpled chin as he tries to make sense of the news; "If Jenneleth is taken, perhaps those that took her also may have the lad Maksim that I seek? Though for what purpose I would hate to think... The God Reaper's clergy have little use of the living, save for sacrifice to their dark lord..." His voice trails off as the gravity of peril the missing souls face settles in...
Kuiper strides forward, clasping the dwarv's hand in firm shake; "Well met Deeprunner... And aye Little Miss, it is good to know Maksim is not lining the gullet o' a Marsh Buller!" The big ranger pauses, mulling the gravity of Ulf's words; "Wait, ye seek Jenneleth? Jenneleth of Milborne, the apprentice o' Tausthäuser? Tell me not that she is missing also! As for the Gleaming Glade, what business do you have with haunted place? And, what of these dark fiends ye speak?? Ill tidings ye bring Ulfbrecht and Company..." Kuiper looks downcast as he awaits your words.
The newcomer heeds Ulf's words and holds his approach; "Well met strangers. I come with nay ill intent - I am Kuiper - Ranger o' this Shire. Ye've nowt to fear from me, lessen you mean this realm harm." His broad features are honest, and garb functional for a frontier life. "I see you've come across a juvenile pack of our Marsh Bullers... Giant Frogs... They'll eat anything they can catch. Well done on seein' then off, they can be tenacious in a pack!" He casts his eyes across your number; "Not local... So Vagabondi I would best guess by your countenance. Tell me travellers, ye've not come across a young lad on the road? Farmer's lad, some 12 winters old; name o' Maksim?" You note a tone of concern in the big Ranger's voice as he speaks.
Suddenly from the misty gloom of the riverside a loud voice hails you; "HO THERE! How do you fare? I heard the clamour of a melee! Can I assist ye?" From a distance you see a tall strongly built human approaching, perhaps slightly smaller than Hûƞidark. He wears the garb of an outdoorsman and the pommel of a large blade can be seen at his back. His arms are empty and outstretched in the peace sign...
It would seem so, the Giant Frog that escaped does not resurface... perhaps plotting a suitable revenge...
As you check over the others, you note that based on the one with the blue arm hanging from its maw, these amphibrutes likely swallow prey whole and may hold treasure in their guts... Ulf opens them up and collectively you recover; 19GP
A soggy gown for a child or halfling - worth 8GP
Of the blue arm - it belongs to a malicious little goblyn with blue woad covering one half of its body The wretch has nothing of value.
Rolling of Bones: 190GP
Pearl worth 25GP
Hand Crafted Item Carved wood
The fleeing frog dissipates in a mist of green between the combined attention of Kordite and Skald!
Number Crunching: Blue: 36 Dark Green: 32 Yellow: 28 Pink: 32 Teal: 28 Red: 40 Green 28 Navy: 32 Total: 256/6 = 43 Monster XP Each
Bone Rollin':
Frog Status:
Yellow: 4/4 HP - Unconscious 2/4 Pink: 6/6HP - Unconscious 4/6 Green 4/4HP Navy: 6/6HP The remaining (active) Frogs have had enough and turn to flee back to the sanctuary of the Churnett. One leaps into the river, immediately submerging. The other finds itself surrounded as it leaps!
Spiro engages the advancing frogs but his flashing blade fails to find mottled hide... From his position of subterfuge Mos pins already wounded frog with a plumb shot. It pauses in its tracks before Hûnidark's cestus sends it the amphibian afterlife... Ping administers a coup de grace on one of the prone frogs .
Mos' shot skewers the frog he targets and it slumps dead. Eireachdail, having extracted his jellied eel supper, readies himself for the advancing amphibians, while Ping draws a blade... The two of the three active frogs advance and, tho wounded, the largest lashes out at Hûnidark with its bulbous tongue!
The last of the three suddenly leaps forward o'er the thickets and reeds , landing beside Ulf with a menacing croak! Frog Status:
Ulf's arrow buries itself into the mottled hide of one of the larger frogs. It gives the creature pause as it squirms in pain, but does not fall. Mos successfully slips into the nearby shrubbery, and lets fly with a fatal shot at the frog...
More Rolling of Bones:
Ping's delicate hands explode in a scintillation of colour blasting the three huge amphibians menacing her. As the dazzling rainbow dissipates all three Frogs lie unconscious! Spiro's shot just misses one of the Frog's that slump - losing the arrow to the Churnett waters...
More Rolling of Bones:
As Ping steadies the party's pack animals and Hûnidark readies himself for
... which is answered by a chorus of croaks as six more colossal Frogs crawl menacingly from the river's murky edge!
No worries Al - know exactly how you feel!
Settled on a course, the villagers reluctantly form a delegation to visit the nearby thorp of Harlton. Parella tearfully gifts you all a half-loaf of freshly baked honey waybread; "Fresh from the ovens this morn... was Jen's favourite... Best give you lot strength now... Bring her home... please." Her father nods stoically as he supports his wife; "They will Par, they will. Remember her cloak was made 'ere in Haranshire. A gift from the folk... fine blue cloak and silver from the mines. Her betrothal ring was the same Blanryde silver. Might be someone seen them not knowing its our Jen..." With the blessing of the Milborners assembled, you set off toward Kuiper's Farm some 20 miles further down the river. UDM's Rolling of Bones:
Hugging the bends, you pass the odd fisherman trying their luck in the Churnett River who wave from the opposite bank. As the river moves closer to being flanked by the Thornwood and The High Moor in the distance, you collectively hear a strange squeal ahead, followed by rasping croaks... Ahead, through the reeds and bush, you spot a [url=Settled on a course, the villagers reluctantly form a delegation to visit the nearby thorp of Harlton. Parella tearfully gifts you all a half-loaf of freshly baked honey waybread; "Fresh from the ovens this morn... was Jen's favourite... Best give you lot strength now... Bring her home... please." Her father nods stoically as he supports his wife; "They will Par, they will. Remember her cloak was made 'ere in Haranshire. A gift from the folk... fine blue cloak and silver from the mines. Her betrothal ring was the same Blanryde silver. Might be someone seen them not knowing its our Jen..." With the blessing of the Milborners assembled, you set off toward Kuiper's Farm some 20 miles further down the river. UDM's Rolling of Bones:
Hugging the bends, you pass the odd fisherman trying their luck in the Churnett River who wave from the opposite bank. As the river moves closer to being flanked by the Thornwood and The High Moor in the distance, you collectively hear a strange squeal ahead, followed by rasping croaks... Ahead, through the reeds and bush, you spot a pair of Giant Frogs, one of which has a strange blue arm hanging from its maw...
The town moot continues for some minutes as the crowd continue to murmur and mull the best course of action. In addition to the townsfolk, a unfamilar face to you all also joins. A young man, wearing the silver shield emblem of the god Säith - The Protector. He introduces himself as Brother Semheis of Säith, the local priest of Milborne. The young cleric clearly commands respect from the throng and speaks with a fiery zeal urging the townsfolk that communal prayer to his god at his kirk will grant her protection and righteous vengeance upon all those who had a hand in her vanishing. What is decided is that Haldelar will lead a delegation of the townsfolk (including Andren) to nearby Harleton to seek their kenning on any wing’ed daemons or fell hauntings that could lead them to the missing lass. As Vagabondi better equipped for the wylds of Haranshire, the party are implored to travel first to the Ranger Kuiper’s farm . The purpose of such is two-fold: alert the local network of rangers to the evil that haunts the lands, and press for leads on where Jenneleth have been abducted to. The folk of Milborne offer up a collection of 100 gold coins for you all to fund this mission. Garyld hobbles into the midst of the throng, highlighting that Jenneleth’s maester in Thurmaster should also be informed. The wizard Tausthäuser is the most powerful wielder of magick in the region, and may have divinations that could assist in tracking down his apprentice, and it would allow the party to fulfil their original mission, freeing them to search for Jenneleth without impingement or obligation. In Thurmaster, the party could petition to see Count Parlfray. Should the dark path of the Gleaming Glade be their destination, Garyld suggests that the stories of the old warrior’s ancestral victory against the Necromancer Ahlaksiz could inform such an endeavour. He also assures you Kuiper is a competent ranger who knows the land perhaps even better than him. The old woodsman then takes you all aside assuring that he will also will keep the captured outlaws in safe keeping until the party return. Andren for his part only asks you find his love but implores you to show the blackguard who stole Jenneleth no mercy...
Cool - just need to clear my feet of a few work things tomorrow then I'll finish crafting my kickstart post. Going to push you all on with a cutscene style post that sets you all on the path again. Patience is massively appreciated gang. |