If there's still sufficient time, Rolly will attempt to come up with some food as well.
Don't think that went well, but whatever he finds, he'll share with everyone (even Drint).
Rolly brings a few roots back to the group. He takes out his throwing axe and trims and divides them up, an equal piece for everyone. As he hands them out, he says, "These ain't gonna taste good, but they'll take the edge off 'a the hunger."
Survival (Fjyndel) (1d20+11=22)
Survival (Grendel) (1d20+1=4)
While Grendel seems really exhausted, Fjyndel seems more desperate to find food.
"Praised be Gozreh, finally something." Fjyndel lets out, finding the nest. Taking nine of the twelve eggs he mutters: "I'm sorry friends. We are in need of something to eat, and all I could find is you. I will let some of your kindred here so that they may live. That's as much as I can do for you."
Carefully he packs the eggs as to get them safely to the others.
"Come Grendel. Let us hope the others aren't too hungry."
No stranger to being outdoors in the woods, Coralee unpacks her tent off Monarch and starts to put it up, whistling happily to herself.
Finishing just as Fjyndal gets back with the eggs, she says, "that will free up some room in the cave for the rest of you. I could probably squeeze one more in here, but it would be a close fit." She says the last bit while smiling at Quince.
Drint frowns, but says nothing.
"I got a tent as well, and I'm open to share it with someone. But, how are we going to get those eggs eadible? I imagine it will be hard to find some dry wood..."
"Well, it seems our sleeping problems are mostly solved," Quince says. "Who wants to sleep in a tent, and who wants to bunk in the cave?"
"As for the eggs, my magic is air-based, not fire. I have some alchemist's fire, but I'd prefer to save that for the monastery, just in case. And only as a last result," he hurriedly adds with a quick glance at Drint. "But I have a few tindertwigs, so we could at least try to light a normal fire."
"Cave's fine fer me. I'll take first watch, too."
Well, if they catch the burglars...;)
I'm just sayin'! That's one hungry dog, and there's nothing like some nice, soft young bones....:D
|
The day passes quickly, you being tired and hungry. Night arrives and sound travels far.
For Rolly
For the rest make a Perception (Hearing) DC 15 (penalty for sleeping included)
Perception (Fjyndel, Sound) (1d20+3=13)
Perception (Grendel, Sound) (1d20+7=10)
Being tired from the hunt and the searching for food, the gnome and his dog are sound asleep.
Perception (sound) 1d20+5=19
Quince jerks awake, startled from his sleep. He reaches over and shakes the person next to him awake. "Wake up!" he whispers. "I just heard screams, and what sounded like a cry for help! Is everyone still here?"
Quince looks around to see if anyone has wandered off during the night. Perception (sight) 1d20+3=20
Rolly rouses all those near him. As he immediately begins putting on his armor, he explains "heard some screams, from the direction of the ruins. Sounds like someone callin' fer help!"
Drint sits straight up. He looks terrified, as if he just had a nightmare. "I heard it too! We need to go. Perhaps there's a wild bear!"
1d20+5=18
"I heard someone crying for help repeatedly. We should look now, perhaps we will find something to eat, too."
Once he's got his armor back on, Rolly grabs his axe and crossbow, and sets off in the direction of the cry for help.
After having been awaked Fjyndel quickly packs his tent and dons his studded leather. He then follows Rolly, not knowing where the screams came from.
"Guys? Grendel found something... I check that out, then catch up with you. Okay?" Fjyndel asks whispering, while patting the dog on the bag for his good senses.
|
|
You take a ten minute walk and you find a path leading into the direction of the ruins. You find that it has been used recently.
Knowledge (Nature) DC 12
Perception (Sight) DC 10
Perception (Sight) DC 15
Knowledge (nature), Perception (Sight) (1d20+10=15, 1d20+3=12)
Finding the footprints and where they lead to, Fjyndel rides back to the others, stopping them with the words:
"Footprints. We found footprints of Kobolds and Children. No 3 hours old. So either the Kobolds have an orphanage built in that monastery, or worse things go on in there..."
Knowledge (nature), Perception (Sight) (1d20+10=15, 1d20+3=12)
Finding the footprints and where they lead to, Fjyndel rides back to the others, stopping them with the words:
"Footprints. We found footprints of Kobolds and Children. No 3 hours old. So either the Kobolds have an orphanage built in that monastery, or worse things go on in there..."
Drint frowns. "We can't assume that the children were kidnapped without proper evidence. All you've got are some old footprints. Perhaps there was a kobold hunting party, and they found some lost children and are bringing them home! Or to shelter, at least. You can't always assume the worst."
Quince stumbles up in the darkness, not willing to light a light and give away the group's position unless absolutely necessary. "Footprints? So that was a scream I heard. Drint may be right, we don't know the whole story. But might I suggest we wait until morning to investigate further? Not all of us can see in the dark you know, and if the kobolds are bad (and Drint, I'm only going on our own previous experiences in the ruins here), it might be better to go in the daylight when we have the advantage, however small it may be."
Drint frowns. "We can't assume that the children were kidnapped without proper evidence. All you've got are some old footprints. Perhaps there was a kobold hunting party, and they found some lost children and are bringing them home! Or to shelter, at least. You can't always assume the worst."Knowledge (nature), Perception (Sight) (1d20+10=15, 1d20+3=12)
Finding the footprints and where they lead to, Fjyndel rides back to the others, stopping them with the words:
"Footprints. We found footprints of Kobolds and Children. No 3 hours old. So either the Kobolds have an orphanage built in that monastery, or worse things go on in there..."
Rolly just rolls his eyes ...
Coralee grabs Quince's hand and puts it on Monarch's saddle so she can lead him and the Pony as quickly as possible towards the cries. Anyone who can see in the dark will notice a worried but determined look on her face.
Quince stumbles up in the darkness, not willing to light a light and give away the group's position unless absolutely necessary. "Footprints? So that was a scream I heard. Drint may be right, we don't know the whole story. But might I suggest we wait until morning to investigate further? Not all of us can see in the dark you know, and if the kobolds are bad (and Drint, I'm only going on our own previous experiences in the ruins here), it might be better to go in the daylight when we have the advantage, however small it may be."
"'Previous experiences'? Given that we invaded their home, I should think that we are the less trustworthy. We can hardly judge by the time we 'attacked' their territory Or that's how it seemed to them."
"'Previous experiences'? Given that we invaded their home, I should think that we are the less trustworthy. We can hardly judge by the time we 'attacked' their territory Or that's how it seemed to them."
"Oh, by Gorum's sword! Shut up about the damned 'bolds, already! Ain't their "home"! They didn't build it! And they tried ta kill us! If ya can't see that, then yer blinder'n the cave bats they live with!! Say one more word an' I'll pick ya up and toss ya to 'em! Then we'll see how peace-lovin' they are ..."
"I don't think it is the right place, or the right time to discuss this now. Let us get this over with, then we all know who was right.
Drint, you and Quince go foreward to the monastery and try to speak with the kobolds living there. Quirk, you fly out of sight and oversee that meeting as good as possible. If something goes wrong, get us to rescue them.
The rest of us will stay in the forest, out of sight of the kobolds, as to not scare them, and if needed, to give us a bit of surprise if possible.
Anyone not confident with the plan may come up with a better one."
Fjyndel may not have been long with others that are not druids, but somehow that chatter about who is wrong and who is right, and about killing each other made him sour. This can be clearly heard from his voice and seen on his face.
The gnome is almost sure something will go terribly wrong, but he could not come up with a better plan while the dwarf and the kobold where arguing about something they could not prove.