Chitterwood. That place which, a few weeks ago, you would never have given a second thought. Now, though, as the dark forest looms over you, it may be where you meet your end.
You're not a mage for nothing, of course. You know what's going on. Illusion spells have been cast over the whole forest, along with a few reality-distortion effects. They're keeping you in, and keeping you confused.
Though you never seem to run out of water (a convenient spring or stream is located whenever you start to run low), you'll soon be running low on food. You haven't seen a single animal since you entered, and none of the plants are edible. The tree branches blot out the sky, making your only source of light the hundreds of glowing mushrooms. You worry that the great Armen Jessup's death may come sooner than expected.
Especially since wolf howls, not fear, keep you awake. And they're getting closer.
You wander through the forest now, though you don't really expect to find anything useful. Seeing a clearing up ahead that is particularly thick with the mushrooms, you start to squeeze through the trees, planning to make camp. Then you realise that there is somebody else there. A moody looking dwarf, who is unrolling his bedroll when he spots you.
The cloaked bird-man had promised you fame, power, and a lot of money. All you had to do was go to Chitterwood, he said, and map out the place for him. There were treasures to be had, and you were just the one to have them. Either he was the best liar in the world, or you were too eager to believe him.
Lesson learned: Never trust a tengu.
Now, you are completely lost. A few spells have determined that powerful illusion and conjuration spells are battering you around, keeping you from even finding north and south half the time. Trees block any sort of light, leaving you with nothing but the glowing fungi to guide you. And you are really running low on food.
The good news is, you've found a companion. A fellow Chelaxian, the half-orc calls himself Karg Runethrane. He worships Asmodeous, not Abadar, but at this point it doesn't really matter. You hear wolf howls every 'night' (though day and night are hard to tell apart sometimes), and they're getting closer. You'll need a protector—or a distraction—when the time comes.
Now, you and he approach a small clearing. You pause, though, when you realise that you aren't alone: There is a dwarf sitting in the clearing, beginning to roll out a bedroll.
That's because ever since they sent you to Chitterwood, things haven't felt right. They told you that artefacts of Asmodeous rested at the centre, and you were the only one who was available to make the journey.
In the forest, though, you can barely tell up from down. Illusion spells confuse you at every turn, keeping you from leaving. The only source of light are the glowing mushrooms, since the trees are so thick they block out the sky. Simple know direction spells go haywire. And you hear wolf howls frequently, always coming closer.
At least you have an ally. A fellow Chelaxian, Mr. Larkova is a servant of Abadar. You could care less, though. He is a powerful cleric, and you may yet need his help if you are to make it out of the forest alive.
Now, you and he approach a small clearing. You pause, though, when you realise that you aren't alone: There is a dwarf sitting in the clearing, beginning to roll out a bedroll.
The bird-man approached you one night in a busy tavern, promising you great wealth if you would just do him the slightest favor: Go to Chitterwood and map out the place for him.
Of course, being a servant of Gorum, you normally wouldn't accept such a pathetic task. But the tengu told you that wealth was not all he could provide: He would give you the power to finally cast down the wicked chieftain who banished you from your tribe. You didn't know how he knew about the chieftain, but you couldn't refuse.
But now that you're in Chitterwood, you sometimes wish you had. The parchment and pen are missing, you can barely tell up from down, and illusions are messing with your head at every turn. The forest is so thick, it'd be pitch black if not for the glowing mushrooms. You're running low on food, too.
You welcome the approaching wolf howls. If you beat them, you will have food to last many more days. If not...then at least you will have died a warrior's death, instead of a coward's one, starving quietly.
Now, you approach a small clearing. You pause, though, when you realise that you aren't alone: There is a dwarf sitting in the clearing, beginning to roll out a bedroll. And not far off from you, a half-orc and a human approach the same clearing.
He promised you such wealth for such a simple task. Make a map of Chitterwood. In return, you would get 1,000 platinum coins. Platinum, such a rare metal nowadays. When offered that kind of money, you don't ask questions.
But now that you're in Chitterwood, you wish you did. The parchment and pen are missing, you can barely tell up from down, and magic is messing with your head at every turn. The forest is so thick, it'd be pitch black if not for the glowing mushrooms. You're running low on food, too.
You almost welcome the approaching wolf howls. Perhaps you'll get enough food to last for weeks. Or...perhaps you'll at least get the chance to die honourably
Not yet, though. For now, you make camp in a small clearing. Rolling out your bedroll, you hear a twig snap. Looking up, you see a slightly foppish man in purple robes freeze as he approaches. A calico cat stands at his side.
"Please excuse my intrusion, dwarf, but mind if I partake of the pond. Could use some fresh drink."
The dwarf, as well as the other party members, see a 6'2" young human in his mid-20s with black hair and tribal tattoos on his body. He is wearing a shiny breastplate with the holy symbol of Gorum emblazoned on it and wields a greatsword on his back and a short bow draped over his shoulder.
It is Pharast, which is the Golarion equivalent of March. It's about 50 degrees Fahrenheit.
Nalor rolls to the ground where his axes lay, draws them, and assumes a defensive position more or less where he was found.
Just put the damned things down fer a second, 'n' I get some hooligan...
And not just any hooligan; the symbol of Gorum was known to him. While they weren't all a bad lot, they were touchy. And they knew how to fight. But so did he. Still, this wasn't a battle he wanted to pick; the lad was well-spoken.
"I want no trouble from ye, 'n' it ain't me pond. Take yer fill."
Nalor glances around, realizing he was outnumbered and begins to get edgy.
hmmm... well this is new. I've been wandering these woods for a few days and these are the first actual living beings I've come across. This accursed magic wood affecting you gentlemen too? Sorry for my shabby appearance, but no laundry facilities nearby.
Armen bows to the gentlemen.
Genisen bows in return
I apologize for my appearance as well. It is good to see that there are still other people left in world beside myself and Karg here. Been wandering this cursed forest for days with no end in sight.
By the way, got anything good to eat? I'm starved!
To Genisen: Regretfully I only have a few days worth of dried rations left, though maybe there's some fish in that pond? There's some sort of enchantment on this forest. One that keeps you going the way the controller of the forest wants you to go. So I'm wondering if our meeting here has been planned.
Greeting master dwarf...and to everyone else.
This does seem to be more than a coincidence that we all are here in this clearing at the same time.
"The water's pretty good, nice and fresh." Kuruk fills his waterskin. To Karg: "More than a coincidence, huh? How so? Were you sent by the bird-man too? Name's Kuruk by the way, may the blessings of Gorum fill your day."
The bird-man. He did approach me to map this place out. I would very much like to meet him again....
Bird-man??? What do you mean? Who is that?
To Karg: "The bird-man, a tengu I believe, contracted with me to map out the forest. Obviously he was liar and not to be trusted."
No tengu here. My master sent me on a quest to find what was causing the disturbance in this area.
Bird-man??? What do you mean? Who is that?
** spoiler omitted **
To: Genisen: "I was tasked with mapping the place out myself. If ye wouldn't mind the company, let us join up, this forest could be dangerous. You got a name?"
After hearing their stories, Nalor eases up - slightly.
"Aye, I was sent here by a damned Tengu meself, supposed ta chart the place. I don't be mindin' workin' together as long as ye can pull yer own weight. The name's Nalor."
"I am Genisen Larkova, Cleric of Abadar. I think teaming up would be a great idea, at least until we can get out of this forest with everything of worth we can find."
Armen looks at his cat, What other choice do we have?
to the group I agree an alliance to complete our goals would be better then wandering this accursed forest alone. I am Armen Jessup, I'm sure you have heard of me. I'm a wizard of some reknown. This is my companion Gertrude.
Karg is my name. I suppose joining forces would be safer. These woods are enchanted.
"Enchanted they be, but there also be beasts to watch out fer." Nalor practically spits the words at Runethrane. How the others could take the mongrel in so easily was beyond him.
But he needed their help. "Where to then?"
You all hear the wolves beginning to howl.
Gentlemen...we are going to have about half a dozen wolves upon us in just a few seconds. I suggest you prepare yourselves.
Karg unslings his greataxe and casts Bless on the party.
Armen reaches into his pack and pulls out a few wands.
He positions himself behind Karg, and says This may tickle
"Good catch on the number of wolves, couldn't quite make it out." Kuruk unsheathes his greatsword from his back, silently prays to Gorum, and casts Enlarge Person on himself and moves toward the the center of the clearing.
Genisen casts longstrider on himself and loads and readies his crossbow to shoot the first wolf he sees coming out of the woods.
"I'll take yer word for it." Nalor picks up his axes, moving to stand slightly apart from the weapon-wielders.
Suddenly, a huge beast leaps out of the shadows. A wolverine the size of a bear, eyes glowing red with rage. You notice a huge arrow sticking out of the creature's forehead, but the wolverine's flesh seems to have healed around the projectile. The wolverine barely seems to notice it now.
It leaps at Nalor, clawing and biting. It snaps but misses, but one claw rakes across the dwarf's cheek viciously.
attack
Damage
Initiative: 1d20+2
attack 1d20+8
Damage 1d8+1
Taken off-guard by the wolverine, Nalor vows its demise silently as the painful slash courses through his nerves. He swings back in swift retribution.
Armen begins chanting and gesturing, bolts of energy erupting from his outstretched hands.
If within 30', Kuruk will partially charge the wolverine and strike it from 10' away with reach and power attack.
Perception
Karg feels invigorated as he grows in size.
Attack:
Damage:
Karg feels invigorated as he grows in size.
Attack: 1d20 + 9
Damage: 3d6 + 11
Karg takes a step forward and swings his greataxe. Unfortunately, he's still a bit unused to his new size, and misses badly.
Kuruk charges forward with his greatsword. It slices a devastating gash in the beast's shoulder, but as he pulls the weapon back, the wolverine still stands.
Genisen fires his crossbow, and the wolverine, clumsy in its rage, is hit in the side.
Armen chants and gestures, and three bolts of energy fly from his hands to thud into the flailing animal. Despite all this, the wolverine still stands. It roars in weak defiance.
Nalor, still surprised, does nothing.
Kuruk takes another swipe with his greatsword, with power attack.
EDIT: Confirmation Roll:
He then takes a 5' step back, putting him 10' away.
