Gathien nods and replies cheerfully, "An excellent suggestion, Ser Fetch. And a reminder of something for us to do later, as well."
Kragath continues to ride quietly as the group explores the area. After some time has passed, and the evening begins to wane, he turns Simaron south east and begins looking for a suitable camp site. Once he spots one, he says aloud, "Anyone opposed to an early camp? I could use the rest..."
Jonas studies the camp site. An early rest sounds like a good idea. It would also be good if Rorgrym used whatever healing abilities he has for the day, so that tomorrow maybe we may start out at our full capacities.
Updated Map of the Stolen Lands
It has been an immensely long day. The grey clouds never truly waned, and come nightfall the darkness is all but consuming the plains. You return to the same place you spent last night almost entirely by accident. Raising the pavilion is a lengthy process, though when you can finally get to rest in the warm confines of your tent, it is a great relief - both for your minds and your bodies...
The weather has only taken a turn for the worse. The rain has returned, with heavy thunder crashing down all around. The skies occasionally light up, great arcs of lightning flashing above your heads. From what you can gather, the weather will prove to slow you down today...
After a bite of breakfast Jonas asks to see the developing map. I think we should head southwest check some of this forest area and try to find the river. Then head northeast, circle back to the northwest and finally pay a visit to Oleg's, just to check on them and make sure everything is fine there. Like yesterday it will probably take us a day to explore a decent area of land, so in three or four days we will be back at Oleg's, barring the unforeseen delays that will obviously occur. He smiles at the last statement.
Gathien nods as Jonas studies the map, "I was going to suggest we explore to the southwest, searching for the river, or at least to get a good idea of what's in that area in the woods. However, if your intent is to make a circuit, while still exploring, should we not head east, either once or twice, before looping back to Oleg's?"
Rorgrym stares at the sky rather gloomily, trying (unsuccessfully) to will the weather to better conditions.
"Whichever way we go, I suggest we look for a campsite that has some protection from the weather; if it's defensible then all the better. There are creatures who won't be discouraged from hunting or moving about by this storm."
Heal #1
Heal #2
Heal #3
Heal #4
Total Healing: 15 hp
0: Create Water, Guidance, Stabilise
1: Magic Weapon, Bless, Longstrider*
"I say we complete the circuit immediately surrounding Oleg's first, so as to know exactly what we are dealing with around our base of operations then work out from there."
Ingle rose that morning to the sound of rain beating against the pavilion. With a groan, he pulled himself from sleep. He went about his morning preperations, pouring the unused extract from the day before out on the sodden ground with a shake of his head. "I cannot believe I'm looking back with longing on that night in Oleg's barn," he said to the group dismally.
Having re-prepared his extract for the day and eating listlessly, he packed his things up and listened in on the discussion. He really had no desire to comment on the choices. They were equally miserable as far as he was concerned. Best to let them work it out, he thought as he stared through the tent flap at the downpour. At least my legs and back feel a bit better.
Peregrine quickly went through his morning preparations and then joined the others looking over the beginnings of the map.
"The bandits are probably beginning to realize that something is amiss. I suspect that they will soon send out a party to look into their missing payment. Asharien said their camp was to the south-south west of the trading post by some thirty miles, placing them roughly here." Peregrine tapped a blank area of the map south of their current location. His finger traced along an imaginary line between his estimation of the camp and Oleg's, stopping halfway and tapping again. "I suggest we head southeast from our current position and explore what lies between the two. It's possible we might even spot some sign of them before the day is out, though it might be a bit early for that yet."
Peregrine turned his gaze toward Kragath and Jonas, the expectant look of one awaiting a decision writ across his face.
Prepared Spells
0th (3) Detect Magic, Arcane Mark, Daze
1st (2+1) True Strike, Sleep, Color Spray
Gathien nods at Peregrine's suggestion, "I thought the man was stuttering to be honest. However, I believe also he said we had some time before they were missed, which would give us time to explore here," he taps the southwest hex, "which may be prudent if their interpretation of south-south-west is more westerly than yours -- and then, as I said, loop back by heading east, hitting your area tomorrow, and the one beyond that the next day, finally stepping northeast to complete Kragath's loop..."
"He said two to three days, of which we are on the third day now. That is not to say your suggestion is without merit, frankly we just need make a decision. However, they almost undoubtedly pass through the area I suggested, if we can find the trail by which they travel...well, it would add to our options, if we do it in short enough order."
Kragath listens to everyone's suggestions then says, "Very well, Gathien's suggestion seems to be the best of both routes. This way we complete our initial assessment of the area as well as search for the river and the bandit camp."
Kragath then goes and saddles up Simaron for the days ride.
The rain makes dismantling the pavilion take a lot longer than anticipated. The ground is wet and makes for uneven terrain; in the forest, the horses struggle to advance. It feels as though the dark of night is still upon you, and as you head south-west, into the depths of these strange woods. A thick mist has begun to form, a coat tha descends from the skies...
Treading through the woods has been gruelling; it is evenfall when you finally come to a clearing in the mist. The rain seems to finally be letting up, though it has performed its job amiably - you are all wet...
Updated Map of the Stolen Lands
Jonas slides off of Maelstrom looking miserable. "Well, this seems as good a place as any. It will be a wonder if you can get a fire started this evening, Gathien. With all of this cursed mist everything is bound to be sopping wet."
To add to the stiffness of learning to ride and the constant dampness or worse, Ingle had a days worth of being slapped in the face and scratched by low-lying branches to add to his dispiritedness. Climbing from his mount, he walked in small circles around the clearing for a few minutes, hoping to relieve some of the cricks and kinks that had settled into his joints. The prospect of a night without fire pushed him over the edge.
"Nonsense," he said, looking into the darkening woods for some fallen limbs and the like. "We'll have a bloody fire if I have to burn the whole forest down in the process," he said, as much to himself as anyone, and obviously agitated. With that, he began to gather what wood he could, trying to choose drier pieces if any existed in this miserable wet wood.
Peregrine suffered silently through most of the day, his uncle had taught him long ago never to complain, complaints always warranted more punishment. Periodically the diviner had marked their route with unseen sigils, cast onto a tree here, a large stone there, making sure to always keep their orientation the same relative to the direction they traveled.
By the time that Jonas had called a stop, Peregrine could already feel himself slumping in the saddle. He couldn't stop himself from frowning just a little more at the mention that they might have to do without a fire. "I might be able to help with that, let me think about it for a minute."
Jonas smiles at the thought of a fire and begins to help collecting firewood.
Rorgrym looks around as they begin to set up camp; stretching out muscles that have stiffened during that days travels. "Miserable day. Everything looks grey, just like it did this morning. Still, a little quite is nice."
"A hot meal's better than cold rations; let's see about that fire..."
Kragath dismounts from Simaron slowly, having grown tired from the day's travel in the storm. The rain's constant drum on his hooded head had almost driven him mad, the forest's canopy not providing much solace.
He begins to help with preparing camp, looking at the soaked pavilion begrudgingly. "I don't think the Pavilion will do us much good tonight, unless you think we can get a fire going. In which case the heat generated from it's welcome embrace would also help to dry out our grand tent."
Kragath walks over to Gathien, "Mind if I look at our map thus far?" Kragath glances over the book, "I think we should finish up this area, then circle back and head East, completing our first circuit of the area. Nothing has happened in this storm to lead me to change my mind about our path."
Starting a fire takes a little while, but Rorgrym eventually succeeds. The heat does much good, though come nightfall you are all still rather wet to the core. Gathien creatres makeshift shelters with logs, branches and leaves, and eventually the night carries on...
The weather is finally merciful. The sun gleams in throughout the thicket of branches, the rain has ended, the mist has all but dispersed. There is a strange charm to the forest. Yet yesterday's weather has taken its toll on some of you...
You map out the southern part of the section when an acorn drops onto Gathien's head. Within seconds, another acorn follows, bouncing off of the halfling's forehead.
You come upon a river! Its waters are fresh, cold and clear. Peregrine begins to sketch the river into your mapping books when a sudden splash of water hits Peregrine - and the book. A second splash reveals a fish drifting down the river...
That kind of fish couldn't possibly have made a splash that big...
You cross the river to map the western part of this area, and you spread out to swiftly gauge the land. A minute after, you can hear a great thump - and Rorgrym's horse is rearing. A great dead branch just fell from the tree above, crashing only a foot away from the dwarf and his mount. Rorgrym manages to calm down the horse without any difficulties...
Branches usually do not break from their trees like this...
You pass under a great oak by the north-western section. Two acorns drop simultaneously onto Kragath and Jonas's heads...
You approach a familiar section of the forest as you finally have it all mapped out. You prepare to set camp for the evening. Ingle has just dismounted when the first acorn hits his shoulder. Then another. Then five nuts, and then a small shower of them. It ends as quickly as it begins, and you find the half-elf surrounded by acorns and nuts...
These are likely pranks made by Fey...
Updated Map of the Stolen Lands
Kragath:
Rorgrym:
Jonas:
Peregrine:
Ingle:
Gathien:
The clouds had finally broken, and despite the lingering dampness, this seemed to lighten Ingle's mood. As the day moved on, his clothing and gear drying out, he also noticed that the aches and pains of riding were lessening to a bearable level. And on top of all of that, he had somehow managed to not come down with the cold that seemed to be going around. By noon he almost seemed his usual self.
They found the river sometime after the noon meal. At least mildly pleased that they seemed to be making some progress, Ingle's satisfaction was soon tempered as he recalled the river's connection to the bandit camp. As Peregrine is interrupted by the splash of water, Ingle eyes the fish curiously. "Odd. Small fish. Big splash. I don't suppose you've gone and annoyed Rorgrym's god somehow?" he asked the diviner, playfully.
Later, as Jonas is stopped short by the crashing down of a rather large branch, the half-elfs suspicions are renewed and he begins watching the passing forrest with increased vigilance and a curiously hopeful look upon his face.
At days end, having found a suitable campsite, the alchemist dismounts - a move he still finds more akin to a controlled topple than the graceful motion that Jonas displays - the first acorn hits his shoulder. Looking ruefully at the halfling and about to say something pithy, he is interrupted by another, and another, and finally a hail of the small hard nuts. Waving his arms ineffectually to ward off the small projectiles, Ingle stands amidst the acorns looking up at the trees overhead.
"Are you quite finished?" he calls out, apparently to the trees around them. Brushing the dust from his shoulders he says to the halfling, "You may want to mark down 'fey' on your map in this general area. It's quite exciting, don't you think?" And the alchemist does, in fact, seem quite thrilled. "I wonder if we could capture one... It would make a most fascinating study."
Gathien smiles as the sun finally finds him, I've been wet and cold for days... it does seem to keep the nightmares away, but still, it feel so good to finally feel like I'm warming up...
When the acorns strike him on the head, he turns in his saddle, reaching for his sling, muttering, "Must be squirrels. We could stew a few.." When he doesn't find any, he shrugs and puts his sling away.
Much like the ride to Oleg's, he finds himself enjoying the day, the sun filling him with hope and good cheer that he'd been missing since the bear mauled him... Noting the state of his companions, he offers cheerfully, "We'll definitely need to make a good hot meal tonight, and a hot breakfast in the morning as well. Fix you right up." even the runs of "bad luck" aren't enough to get the smile from his face.
As the party begins to set up its camp for the night, Gathien laughs as the alchemist is pelted, "We can roast those on the fire tonight. Well done, Duckie."
Kragath rides gloomily in his saddle, seldomly looking up from his stallion's neck. The hood of his cloak is kept drawn up over his head, and the sound of his snorts and coughs become common during the day. He hardly notices the various oddities that occur, even the acorn falling on his head barely managed to generate a response from him as he quietly brushed his hand on his hooded brow. When it is time for camp, Kragath goes straight to the pavilion and begins unpacking it.
Gotta get a good nights rest. This cold could be the death of me at the rate I'm going. Abadar is certainly branding a sense of humility into me. I did not realize I had been so prideful before. I hope my suffering the past few days appeases his anger toward me.
Once the greattent is raised, Kragath begins placing his things in his usual place within.
Jonas chuckles as the shower of acorns turns from a few to a bushel, but his chuckle pauses when Ingle mentions fey. Then his laughter becomes deep and loud, perhaps too deep and too loud. He wipes his eye and with a further chuckle announces loudly to no one in particular, Well that truly was a fine jest. I can't help but admire it's creativity. I would certainly enjoy meeting the author of such a jest. I have heard that there are fey in this area. I also heard that they are more beautiful than the fairest maid and more intelligent than a wizard. I don't know if I believe that though." He looks around expectantly.
"We can roast those on the fire tonight. Well done, Duckie."
"Yes. Well." Ingle turns to retrieve his gear from Flash when he is distracted by Jonas' odd behavior. He gives the man a curious look, taking a step back and blinking several times. "I say," he says to himself.
Suddenly a look of understanding dawns upon his face. "Oh, jolly good," he chuckles, looking around at the surrounding woods.
Rorgrym rides through the day in silence, contained in his own bundle of misery. He keeps removong his helmet convinced that the size of his head is changing with the pounding sensation it feels. "Is this what it feels like to be a full orc? No wonder they're always so angry."
Seeing the river, his spirits improve somewhat. He tries to go about collecting driftwood and other loose branches from the bank to try and create a shrine to Hanspur. The shrine ends up being quite small on the shore and looks like little more than a pile of collected sticks with a crudely carved trident on the largest. Satisfied nonetheless, he trudges back to the others to help out however needed and tries his best to ignore the changing size of his head.
With the change in the weather Peregrine seemed slightly less grim than usual, and when they came across the river he very nearly smiled. Surely it was the Thorn River that Asharien had spoken of.
Soon he was sitting along the bank updating their maps with the river, only to find them very nearly ruined by a particularly rude fish. Ignoring Ingle's pithy comments he set about trying to minimize any damage to their work with great haste and seriousness. It was only after he was done that he looked back to the river, a perplexed scowl on his face.
As the day's exploration and mapping progressed and the oddities continued to add up, Peregrine's mood became increasingly troubled. When the word 'fey' was finally given voice he felt a strange mix of excitement and concern. He wanted...he needed to know more about them and the First World, but he know also that they could be dangerous and fickle creatures. Looking up at the trees he mentally sorted through all the various treatises and tomes he'd read on the subject, trying to come up with what sort of fey creature would engage in the sort of pranks they had been experiencing all day, and how it might be appeased.
As the party begins to set up its camp for the night, Gathien laughs as the alchemist is pelted, "We can roast those on the fire tonight. Well done, Duckie."
Peregrine looked at the pile of nuts warily, then at Gathien, and then back at the assortment of nuts and acorns. After a moment he raised his hand, drawing a sigil of revelation in the air, muttering softly to himself as he began to look around with a strange, faraway look on his face.
Catching any fey in the act of pulling a prank is exceedingly difficult; you know many of them have a natural capability of invisibility spells. While mischievous in nature, they are rarely champions of malevolence - and are likely only playing with you, in their own irritable way. They can be befriended, however, with bribes - though fey generally think of them as gifts, eschewing the ugly word "bribe."
Jewelry, alcohol, sugary food and potions are often valued by fey - though they will only accept gifts as an individual effort - the one who offers the gift is the one they will befriend, not his or her companions. Once befriended, however, fey tend to be helpful.
The nuts have no magical quality to them, but as you study the perimeter, you do spot auras; as you focus on them, you can tell they are both of the illusion school - and they vanish almost immediately afterwards...
When Jonas loudly exclaims how humorous today's events have been, an eerie silence follows. There is no response from the cold woods. You successfully set up the pavilion, and prepare for the night...
Once Kragath has his things together within the Pavilion, he notes that nobody else has entered the Pavilion yet. Kragath steps back out of the tent, out of his armor and with only his weapon at his side, and looks at his companions milling about the camp awkwardly. Perhaps I've got a fever and am seeing things. Jonas talking to the air, Peregrine wandering around the camp, Gathien playing with acorns...
Kragath states, "Gentlemen, it's been a rough day thanks to the weather, and with this illness I've taken, I think," a sneeze interrupting his words, "I think I need to turn in early. Perhaps I can overcome this ailment during the night. If something is in desperate need of my assistance, however, feel free to wake me."
Kragath then turns and walks back into the tent and falls asleep in his bedroll.
In response to the cold silence, Gathien whispers to Jonas, his tone light, "Perhaps they decided they didn't want to come out for fear Duckie would study them?"
When Kragath heads to his bedroll, Gathien sits at the fire, staring into the flames, waiting for his leaf-wrapped nuts to roast. The gentle crackling of the fire is far more soothing than the whispers I hear in my dreams... or when I enter the rage... I don't know if was truly the rain and cold, but let's hope for a normal night's sleep... He sighs and hops down off the log, pulling the small wrapped bundle from the flames, offering some to Ingle. "While I was jesting earlier, these really are quite good...." He then adds with a smile, "..and our hosts did seem to want you to have them."
Jonas looks a little disappointed at the lack of response, but smiles at Gathien's joke. He says quietly to whoever is listening, "Well that is too bad. Fey are somewhat common where I come from and there are several stories in my family of my forebearers befriending them. They indicated that flattery is often helpful with them, but I guess that is not enough with this particular fey." Jonas goes about setting up camp and preparing for the next day.
Once things had settled down and the camp was set up Peregrine explained what he knew and what he'd been able to detect.
He spent the rest of the evening in relative silence, seemingly lost in thought. When the others began to retire for the evening he walked to the edge of the campsite, where the glow of the fire began to fade to darkness. From one of the pouches on his belt he drew a small whistle, turning it over in his hands he wondered if it would be acceptable. He supposed that he would know come morning. Peregrine bent down and gently set it on a flat rock. He remained there a few moments longer, listening to the nighttime sounds of the forest and peering out into the darkness, before finally rising and returning to the Pavilion without so much as a backward glance.
In response to the cold silence, Gathien whispers to Jonas, his tone light, "Perhaps they decided they didn't want to come out for fear Duckie would study them?"
Ingle snorts at the overheard comment. But, after a moment's consideration, he looks toward the woods, calling out, "Non-invasive, I assure you..." With no further response from the fey community, he continues to gather his things and tend to his horse as Jonas' had shown him.
As the evening goes on, Ingle retrieves a small book from his pack and begins writing. He seems to take special interest in Peregrine's description of the fey.
They Fey and its pranks mean little to Rorgrym who only hopes to feel better after a night's rest. Though he understands Peregrine's words, they never seem to penetrate far enough into Rorgrym's consciousness to affect his actions. He goes to bed as early as possible.
The night goes by, and when you wake up, you are refreshed. Between the thicket above, a clear blue sky gazes down at you, and the warmth of the sun is creeping in from the east...
The signal whistle is indeed gone this morning.
Kragath rises from his bedroll earlier than the rest of the expedition, feeling rejuvenated. He walks out of the tent quietly, strapping his sword to his waist as hendoes so. Once he feels the suns radiance as it peeks through the trees, he walks a small distance away from the tent and stands facing East, saying a silent prayer of thanks to Abadar. Once finished, he begins to quietly pack up the camp outside the tent so as to be ready to ride as soon as the rest awaken.
Gathien wakes, happy to have gotten a night's sleep that was both uninterrupted and warm. He stretches himself out, washes, rolls up his bedroll, whistling as he does so. He gathers his axe and prepared to leave the tent, heading toward the fire, attracted by the voices and the thought of breakfast tea.
He stops suddenly when he steps out and realizes that nobody else is out there (save Kragath off praying in the distance). With that realization, the voices he heard stop suddenly also. He sighs, No dreams, but I am hearing the whispers when not in the rage... I really wish I could talk to someone about that... Perhaps the diviner..
He steps over to the fire, now feeling a sudden chill, and fills the teapot, hoping the sun and tea will warm his mind.
The nearby area doesn't appear to have any trees running with sap - nor any obvious sources of honey that you can spot.
As you trek further east into the woods, Kragath is hailed with acorns - three of them bounce off of his forehead...
You are leading your horses underneath a thicket of old clustered branches and thorny vines. Ingle is struggling to get his horse through the thicket when an entire tree keels over, crashing in front of the half-elf, mere inches away. The horse reels and flees in terror. You spend half an hour recovering the steed...
You circle the area from north to east. As you reach for a moment's respite, the heat of the day becoming noticeable, you rest in the shadows of the forest. As Peregrine takes a gander around the area, he is abruptly buried in leaves, all green and rich in colour...
You are exploring the south-eastern part of this section when you first hear the noise: strange barks, and hisses that sound almost playful.
"Food! This spiceberry is mine!" "Mine, I says!" "Oh, I cannot eat another one, oh no..." "That's fine, we have bukkits!" "Bukkits of spiceberry!"
As you approach the source of the noise, you can see it quite clearly: there's a large quantity of kobolds, all walking around what appears to be a patch filled with radishes...
Gathien looks at Kragath and Jonas, and whispers, "Would you like me to sneak ahead to get a count on them and to see how they are armed? I could also try to get myself into a position from which to snipe or flank them."
Jonas nods, "I think it is a good idea." If it looks like the forest is going to be difficult terrain for Maelstrom, Jonas slips off the horse and pulls out his sword.
Hefting his crossbow, Rorgrym can just make out the shapes of the kobolds through the trees.
Can't understand their babble and it's hard to get a good count from here. Blasted things are like ants, where there's one there's ten. The halfling has a good idea if he can be sneaky enough; things go better when we're the ones doing the surprising.
"Do be careful," Ingle whispers to the halfling. "Remember, they're bigger than you. Though, now that I think about it..." He leaves his thought unfinished, grinning slightly.
Gathien nods at Jonas and slides off his horse. He whispers a thanks to the dwarf for the spell, glares at Ingle briefly, and then finds himself a first hiding spot to begin his approach.
He turns and whispers, "Unless I'm spotted or I need to save something from them, I will come back and report on their numbers and their gear."
He sighs, takes a deep breath, and ducks down, creeping slowly around the bushes to get a closer look.
I hope they keep chattering and focusing on the radishes while I do this... I don't think I could take all of them by myself.
As you approach the kobolds, they do not notice you. Those that are there seem to be the only ones - at least the only ones you can spot. They are armed with spears and slings, yet they also seem to be a little ... amiss. Several of them seem to be indulging on radishes...
Gathien observes for a moment to try to determine what might be amiss... then sneaks back and relays the information to the group.
He emerges from his hiding spot and whispers, "I counted 11, they seem to be armed with spears and slings. I didn't notice any with holy symbols or anything else.... and there was something... off.... about them."
Gathien looks at his friends, "They are an evil race, and I believe our duty here is clear. I will sneak back to try to attack from a better and unexpected position. Give me a slow count of 50 to get back into position -- I will leap out into their midst from 'behind', which should let you attack from this direction.... Unless anyone has a better plan?"
Kragath nods at Gathien's suggestion. "A sound battle plan. But at this distance it would take us quite a bit of time to close the distance. You will need to wait to spring your attack until we have their focus."
Ingle listens to the plan as he checks his supplies. "I'd like to get a bit more in range before we make ourselves known. If I can get within sixty feet or so I should be able to strike effectively enough, though I'm sure I lack the stealth of our little friend here."
He pulls two vials free of their bindings, giving them a quick look to ensure they are ready.
Kragath draws his longsword and quietly moves forward, counting to himself.