"Heh" luaghs Fjyndel, then going on seriously: "About the 'quest': Coralee told you most of it. A disease spreads in Falcon's Hollow and Laurel asked us to find some roots and whatnot, ingredients to a potion I suspect, that will hopefully be the cure. We already found one, next is ratstail, a root, and the last one was... hu... what was that again,..? grows in dark places... likes metal... ironbloom mushrooms!
Those where the last ones." the gnome explains.
"Heh" luaghs Fjyndel, then going on seriously: "About the 'quest': Coralee told you most of it. A disease spreads in Falcon's Hollow and Laurel asked us to find some roots and whatnot, ingredients to a potion I suspect, that will hopefully be the cure. We already found one, next is ratstail, a root, and the last one was... hu... what was that again,..? grows in dark places... likes metal... ironbloom mushrooms!
Those where the last ones." the gnome explains.
"Well, I don't know who 'Laurel' is, but ya seem like a fine group. Ol' Rolly's all yours. And may the gods have mercy on your souls!" Rolly says that last part with a huge grin on his face.
He also tries to clean himself up as best as he can, wiping blood and such off of his axe and armor.
Radavel
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The sounds of the forest become suddenly distant as the trees part, opening into a small, almost perfectly circular glade. The nearest stands of pine, eyln, and darkwood -- all typically sturdy wood -- twist away from the clearing, as if bent by some impossibly strong wind or seemingly in an attempt to flee despite their paralyzed roots. At the glade's center squat an ugly cottage, little more than a pile of twigs, shoots and ivy stacked upon mud walls. From the thatched roof dangle bundles of gnarled roots, old dried beast carcasses, and knucklebones bangles, all clattering together like gruesome wind chimes. A dozen small thatched fetishes -- each shaped like a tiny man, imp, or rearing serpent -- stand propped in the yard, keeping guard before a rickety plank door.
Quirk announces, "There is the home of Uzmilla. Have not been here for a long time."
After a moment of contemplation, Fjyndel says out loud: "Okay. Let us get this over with." But, he hesitates with himself a moment longer, before taking the first step out of the wood on to the clearing.
Grendel whelps silently, causing the gnome to turn around. With a quick look over the dog he sighs, then speaking: "Yeah. Stay. And announce any interruption. We come back in a bit."
With another sigh, Fjyndel turns back again towards the hut, and with another hesitation he starts walking again.
"I am Quirk, and as you can see I am way above the others. Hmmmmm? I come from these woods and am on a mission my queen to to... emmm ... oops... ammm ... to find the murderers of my kin and bring them to the of justice of Franuflen. Do you know Franuflen? He is our god of winter and Vengeance. And the Rat's tail and the ironbloom mushrooms. We gotta find those, too. That's our mission. Yep."
Quirk is a small figure with wings "attached" to his leather armor, that keeps him a foot above the round. His long ears and golden hair round a youthful face with a pointy nose and quirky eyes, that definitely show friendly mischief.
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"You all go first. I love my ears and nose and eyes and hair and wings and feet..."
Fjyndel:Perception (hear) (1d20+3=6)
Perception (hear) (1d20+7=24)
While Fjyndel still has an ungood feeling, Grendel settles down on the ground, while keeping a keen ear and sniffing the air.
Perception (hearing) (1d20+5=22)
"Doesn't sound like anyone's home," Quince says, striding into the clearing. "Our ears and wings and eyes and noses should be safe." He gestures with his hand and the plank door bangs open.
Just to make sure, he calls out, "Hellooo! Anybody hoooome?"
"Psshhhht...not so loud... perhaps she is out... collecting herbs .... or other things..."
Perception (hearing) (1d20+7=27)
Rolly grips his axe, senses on alert. He tries to get in front of most of the group, in order to absorb any possible attack that may come ...
"Yeah, I don't hear nothin' in there, either," he says to Quince. "Course, after that holler, I'm sure wherever this someone is, they know we're here."
Once they get to thet clearing edge, Monarch stops dead and gives a short whicker. "Yeah this place does look a bit creepy boy. It's OK ,you can stay here." She ties his reins to a tree.
Looking around the clearing wide eyed, Coralee anounces "would ya look at this place. Looks like someone let out one helluva sneeze to blow all these trees back like that. I don't even think Uncle Basso could have done this and he can sneeze louder than thunder! Look at all of the things hanging from that little hut. How she lives in there is beyond me. it looks like whoever did that sneeze could just sniffle and it would fall over. And what are all those creepy little things sticking out of the ground there in the yard?"
She walks over to the hut and starts to jangle some of the odd things hanging from the roof, making sure to avoid the fetishes in the clearing.
Drint has remained silent the entire time. Now he looks like his nervous self.
"Perhapsssss she issssn't home?" He asks hopefully, fidgeting with his pack.
Quince is more than happy to let Rolly lead the way, just in case the witch is quietly lying in wait for them.
"After you, Master Dwarf."
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You enter the hut of Uzmilla. Inside it is dank, reeking and filled with shadows. Haphazardly hung shelves line the walls, covered in all manner of clay jugs, clouded bottles, strangely cut rocks, rotted bunches of herbs, and a museum of other crude curios and remnants of a bone grinder’s artifice. A large rusted iron cauldron dominates the hut’s single room.
Further observation reveals that across from the door, against the far walls, stands a high-backed chair made of wicker, the gigantic tusks of some beast and thousands of human teeth. On one of the arms of the chair hangs a small metal gong whose sheen has disappeared with the passing of years.
Do you dare disturb Uzmilla’s things?
Coralee steps through the door behind Quince and her eyes go wide. "Wow, would you look at all of this stuff. I bet heaps of it is magic. Ooo, let me check, let me check. OK, give me a sec before you start looking around." She waves her hands before her and asks Desna for her blessing. Nothing apparently happens, but to her eyes anything magical glows with a faint blue glow.
Rad:
Rolly remains on as high alert as he can be. Perception check, looking around the room closer, listening for other noises, and smelling the air (1d20+7=17) (Well, maybe moderate alert ;-)) He doesn't touch anything.
"So, anyone think we should hit the gong?"
"So, anyone think we should hit the gong?"
"Most definitely NOT," Quince responds. "Let's find this root and begone. The less time spent here, the better, I think."
While Coralee looks for magic, Quince begins inspecting the herbs and fetishes along the walls, trying to touch as little as possible.
Perception (1d20+3=20)
"Quirk, Fjyndel, any idea what this root looks like?"
Fjyndel waits until Coralee is finished with her inspection of the hut, then starts searching for the root as well.
Perception to search for the root (1d20+3=19)
"No to the gong!" the gnome replies, then thinking about the rat's tail- root "Hmm... let me think."
"Awright, awright ... no gong. Just figured it might be better to ask for this root yer lookin' for. Some folks get testy when other folks go through their stuff, is all ... "
Since Rolly isn't knowledgeable about this root, he remains on guard, constantly scanning the inside and doorway for signs of anyone coming.
Knowledge (nature) (1d20 8=20)
"This root should look like its name says. A rat's tail. But be sure you get the root and not the tail itself. I am sure Ulizmila would use this kind of ingredient, too."
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For those who rolled Perception Check of at least 14 up
For Rolly
For Quince
For Fjyndel
For Coralee
There is also a faint abjuration aura on the the book Quince is currently looking at.
"That old hag... Look here! Blackscour. She did that to Falcon's Hollow!"
"Hmmmmm, interesting," Quince murmurs, looking at the leatherbound book in his hands. He turns it over and over in his hands, inspecting it but not opening it (yet).
"Anybody find anything interesting?" he asks the group.
"Anybody find anything interesting?" he asks the group.
"Well, where to begin." Coralee starts to point around the room.
"Quince that book has a bit of magic about it, Abjuration if I'm not mistaken. Could be a Spell Book.Rolly McGolly, that Gong you're eying off has a pretty strong aura around it and it's Enchantment, so I wouldn't ring it if I were you, it might bewitch you.
That big Cauldron over there is magical as well. Don't know what someone would want with a magic cauldron , but it's Transmutation, so maybe it turns stuff into other stuff?
Also, there's a little trinket over on the wall there by your head Fjyn that is throwing off a faint Illusion aura.
Is that interesting enough for you cutie?"
Rolly chuckles at the nickname from Coralee. "Well, it also so happens that the gong is made of red gold, too. Could be valuable, an' it could be dangerous." He turns to Fjyndel. "Blackscour? I'm guessin' that has somethin' to do with the sickness in the town? Maybe we should burn it."
"It would probably be better if we could just desintigrate it... I don't want to be the cause of sickening fumes... Actually I don't know what would be best to do with that.
What gives off that Illusion-aura?"
"What gives off that Illusion-aura?"
Coralee points to a spot on the wall near Fjyn's head. "That trinkety thing hanging by your head there. It's only faint, though. Ooo, maybe it changes your appearance if you wear it! That would be really funny."
"Ye found anything?" Quirk chimes in from out of the hut.
Quince studies the book carefully (Perception (1d20+3=23) Woo!). If he finds nothing dangerous, he opens the book to take a look inside.
As time progresses, Rolly keeps on his guard, but looks around nervously; he hadn't been overly concerned until everyone seemed terrified of letting the owner know we were here by ringing the gong. "Guys, not tryin' to rush ya ... Ok, maybe I am. If this Umzilla (or whatever her name is) is as dangerous as you've been lettin' on, shouldn't we grab what we came for, and get as far away as we can? I'm no coward, but if she could start a disease that could destroy an entire village, she may be more'n what we wanna fight, ya know?"
"Guys, not tryin' to rush ya ... Ok, maybe I am. If this Umzilla (or whatever her name is) is as dangerous as you've been lettin' on, shouldn't we grab what we came for, and get as far away as we can? I'm no coward, but if she could start a disease that could destroy an entire village, she may be more'n what we wanna fight, ya know?"
"And right you are Stoney... Ah, sorry. You aren't Stoney, your name was Rolly. I blame Coralee for that. *giggles* Anyway, we should wander off as fast as we can. That Rat's tail should be enough for Laurel, I hope.
And I'd rather not take that shrunken head, no, thank you.Everyone coming?" the gnome asks, grabbing the ingredients and turning to go.
Radavel:
Coralee walks over to Quince and peers over his shoulder. "Is that a Spellbook you've got there? It looks like it might be a Spellbook. I wonder if it's Uzmilla's actual Spellbokk? If it is I bet there are some pretty powerful spells in there. Are you gonna borrow it for yourself? If you do can I have a look at it too? Just for some ideas, you know."
She then walks over to Fjyndel. "Are you sure you don't want that little head? It's a bit creepy, but I bet it can do something funny. Maybe it talks to you?" She reaches out to pick up the Shrunken Head Fetish. "Hey there. Do you talk little head?"
Rolly yells out to Quirk, "Keep yer head up out there, Quirk! If ya see anythin' weird, give a shout!"
"It might be a spellbook," Quince answers Coralee. "I'll take a closer look outside. And grab the head, it might be useful."
Quince pauses a moment in thought.
"Then again, it could be some magical fetish that Uzmilla could use to spy on us after we've looted her hut. Oh well, like my mother always said, 'Danger is the spice of life!' Or was that my uncle? Or Grandpa?"
Muttering to himself, Quince steps outside to take a closer look at the book he found.
Waiting until Quince is outside, Coralee grips the Fetish by it's cord and starts jangling it up and down in front of her face, talking in funny voice. "Well hello there. You seem like a mighty attractive young lady. I bet there are many cute halflings who would love to spend some time with you."
She returns to her own voice: "Oh, stop it creepy little head, you'll make me blush."
Funny Voice: "No, no, I mean it. If I had a body I'm sure I wouldn't keep you waiting."
Coralee: Oh you."
She picks up the head and takes one last look around the hut. Noticing that Rolly is giving her a funny lookand Fjyndel is shaking his head, she blushes and sneaks past them out the door to join Quince and Quirk.
Perception in the hut (1d20+3=16)
"What the..." Fjyndel curses, then running out of the door, holding on to the Rat's tail.
Drint jumps up and yelps as he sees the moving monstrosity.
Initiative 1d20+4=11