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"That is cetrainly no natural occurance", says Janus after retrieving his arrows.
"I would suggest we gather everyone in the temple. It seems to be the most fortifiable place in our immediate area." To Elyin he says You did right Elyin, your place is with your wife now. I am glad you are safe." Turning to Lilia he asks about her gnome friend, remembering that bleaching gnome.
Knowledge Arcana 1d20 + 7
Sarek pulls out his wedding gift from his pack and gives it to Kailah. "I am happy to see that you are both unhurt."
"Why would that gnome attack us and your wedding party, Elyin?"
"Two years ago I bested Tenzekil in a honey harvesting contest. They say that led to him falling into the bleaching, but I don't believe it. He was a troubled gnome to begin with."
Janus:
You find four sets of tracks, three belonging to the spriggans. The fourth set is of a small humanoid, and could belong to a gnome. These tracks end abruptly, as if the creature disappeared into thin air.
The fog is rolling in. It is so thick, to stay any longer would put you at risk for disorientation.
used[/ooc]; augury, eagle's splendor, shield other, silence.[/ooc]
used[/ooc], discern lies.[/ooc]
The halfling had several questions about the gnome by this juncture, after taking a moment to collect her thoughts. "Does anyone know why Tenzekil was harrassing Lumi? Who is Queen Rhoswen? What in the world is the Fellnight fey? And how is this much fog even possible?"
The wedding guests who have not yet fled the grove gather near the chapel.
"This is all my fault," blurts Lumi. "Had I shown Tenzekil more kindness, he wouldn't have turned mad."
"How were you to know, Lumi? consoles a stout young woman.
"Tenzekil is nothing more than a beekeeper. How could he done all this?" asks a gruff, angry-looking man.
Regarding Lumi's qeustions about Rhoswen, the Fellnight fey, and the fog, the crowd draws a blank.
"Devarro the Druid must know," suggests a middle-aged matron. "They say Devarro was living in the forest even before the town was founded."
"Can any of you take us to Devarro? Or at least point us in the right direction?" Lilia's mind was racing again. "He doesn't hate anyone in the village like the gnome beekeeper does, does he? If he's friends with you all, will he be mad about not being invited to the wedding?"
"I sent him an invitation," says Kailah, "or at least I thought I did."
"He lives thirty miles to the west," says an older man. "I visit him sometimes, to trade for the poultices he makes. But I won't go into the forest, not in this fog."
"To the west? Does anyone know if he and Tenzekil are friends...or enemies? It seems like there are two possibilities: either they are working together or perhaps the gnome turned into the raven and is flying there to attack him. No matter the case, it sounds like we have a road trip ahead of us, assuming we are all up for a bit more of excitement," Lilia sputters excitedly, with the wheels in her head almost visibly spinning, thinking of all the possibilities.
"Devarro's a good man," someone mutters, "he couldn't have taken part in something like this."
The man who trades with the druid continues: "Devarro's cabin is between a small hill and a creek. The hill a strange one, with a very round, bare top. You might miss the hill in this mist, so look for the black stones that line the creek."
"We should get started." Sarek says, "This mist is a troubling omen of things to come. Our druid friend might be in danger."
"Yep. And 'Danger' is our middle name. (Mom was kind of weird like that.)"
Before we head out to visit Devarro, Thediar offers the blessings of the wind and wave to the couple. "It's traditional to wish the newly-wedded a life together, each day happier than the day they're married. In your case, that won't be hard! But, hey: you'll always remember your anniversary."
Neylin laughs.
"Ha! Thank you, Thediar. I would go with you, but I have to help prepare the town defenses. Those spriggans fought with training and coordination which could mean they're part of a larger invasion force. Take care out there. Remember, there are many dangers in this forest, but there are also potential friends."
OOC:
I'll reveal that there are no more useful clues to be found here in the grove or in the town proper. Any other information will simply reitereate what you already know. Admittedly, it's bad form for a DM to just tell players these things. In a normal, table-top game players and DMs can get through a many lines of inquiry fairly quickly, but in a PBP it can drag on for days.
Westward, ho.
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"Alright gang, lets go. Lets try to do this quickly and quietly. Everyone keep their eyes and ears open."
With that Janus starts off west, friends in tow. Moving quietly but quikly, alert for any danger.
survival with aid another
Stealth
perception +1 vs. traps, +2 vs. magical beasts and +4 vs. fey
edit: +2 on all those checks for favored terrain
Lilia made sure to get a couple moments to change, stowing her jewelry and fine dress into her magical haversack. She sighed heavily at the events of the day, as she had just wanted to have a fun day with drinking, drancing, and wishing her friend happiness. Instead, she was back in her explorer's outfit, roped to her friends, and was marching through the forest through pea soup thick fog. She normally enjoyed new adventures, but that was not her hope for this day, though.
After making their farewells the heroes enter the fog shrouded forest. Travel in these conditions are difficult; little can be seen beyond twenty feet and virtually nothing beyond forty. Yet Janus is able to lead the way steadily west by examining the how certain trees and mosses have grown. After a day's walk no more than eight miles are covered.
That night, after the party has made camp, a slender, furtive figure separates from one of the trees at the edge of camp. The woman takes only a few steps and then collapses to the ground with a gasp of pain. “Please... you must help us!” she implores. “They came from the shadows... inside the mist! My sisters are dying! They’re burning our trees! We have nowhere else to turn! You must help!”
To the dryad, in Sylvan: "That's no good!" (Sense Motive, JZ, at a +11, because the First World is filled with things that could disguise themselves as a dryad, and Thediar doesn't feel like falling for a trap today.)
To the others, in Common*: "Whatever these are, we need to capture them alive. I can't interrogate the dead."
"You're among friends now." Sarek says. "Who is attacking your sisters?"
To the dryad, in Sylvan: "That's no good!"
To the others, in Common*: "Whatever these are, we need to capture them alive. I can't interrogate the dead."
"You're among friends now." Sarek says. "Who is attacking your sisters?"
“Spriggans. Horrid little gnomes. Half-plant and fully malicious, they grow like cursed weeds. Legends tell of such creatures once locked away in a place called the Fellnight Realm. But that was... thousands of years ago.”
"Are you alright? Please, tell us what happened. Who is burning your trees?"
"I thank you, but your healing cannot help me. My life energy is tied to my trees. I shall die if the spriggans finish destroying my family's trees. Our grove lies just south of here. Follow the gully as a trail and it will take you there. Hurry!”
Seeing the small dryad in such obvious pain clicked Lilia's thoughts away from her own sadness, and into her professional adventuring mindset. "Quickly, down the gully!" Lilia is almost yelling to the group, watching the dryad struggle. "Lead the way, Janus!"
Sarek draws his sword and races after Lilia.
The gully leads through this part of the forest, rising into a small clearing of silver-barked trees, many of which lie fallen and hewn into large piles. A bonfire bathes the fog hovering at the forest’s edge with an orange glow, its flames burning away the mist and replacing it with the heavy tang of woodsmoke. A woman’s screams punctuate the mirthless laughter of four spriggans capering about the fire. A dryad and a unicorn lie bound upon the ground near a stack of logs.
Sarek moves towards one of the spriggans and takes a mighty swing at his head.
Attack:
Damage:
Initiative:
During the surprise round, Thediar once again channels the energy of Age and Death: points of damage to each spriggan.
In common: "Our first priority has to be to extinguish that fire."
Round One In Sylvan:
Initiative [dice]1d20 + 7[/dice
Lilia casts Haste again.
Attack:
Damage: