This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Essie is relieved upon seeing the drow elf pick themselves back up, and she lets out a breath. She takes a minute to assess the situation. Then she grimaces and reaches out a hand. A murmur of Celestial, and she casts Sacred Flame toward the vines.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Daerthe curses as slams her rapier back into the sheathe as she misses, awkwardly drawing her shortbow and knocking an arrow. On reflex she almost prays for the Spider Queen to bless her with a bit but shakes her head and lets the missile fly.
Shortbow: Attack: 8 Damage: 10
Sneak Attack: 5
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Despite the vines that restrict her movement, the drow draws back her shortbow and lets fly an arrow. It plunges deep into the heart of the vegetative monster which shudders for a moment, then collapses, releasing Stigandr. The malevolent plant creature is finished, the danger past. The vines that restrained the drow wither away after a short time. She and the barbarian are bruised and sore but alive. Stigandr gives the creature one last smash with his maul for good measure. Bramble carefully stows his last enchanted river stone in his sack and brushes the remaining vines away from the others with his quarterstaff.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM: Into the Feywild Marva Stormaventendrian - Level 1 Dragonborn Cleric of the Tempest - Looking for a campaign
“Ho, ho, a most interesting introduction.” Bramble says to the three new people. He uses his quarterstaff and shield to brush aside and hold back the vegetation, trying to form a path out of the thicket for those in the thick of it.
”Stigandr, did you save any of the berries I gave you last evening? If you did, now would be a good time for you to eat one.”
Bramble then looks up and left to Essie, “And Essie, did you perchance save a Goodberry that you could give to this sneaky but heroic elf.” There was a slight lilt in the word “elf” as in a slight question.
Bramble had been a wanderer for years and although her features seemed to align with elven features, they were different enough that maybe he spoke too quickly. “My apologies if I spoke out of turn. Perhaps we should address each other with our names. My name is Bramble, Bramble Mossbottom.”
Ryndar approaches the new travelers cautiously. "Ryndar Shadowsbane." He returns as Bramble offers introduction. He continues, "Quickly, we should move out of this overgrowth back towards the road. There may be more of those creatures lurking. Best not to disturb them."
As he ushers the group out of the edge of the woodlands, he keeps an eye trained on all of the strangers, particularly the drow.
Daerthe moves to shoulder her shortbow, her hands lowering to rest at her side as she gives the others a blank stare from her visible eye. As she looks them over she looks as if to decide if she will even bother to speak to them.
"My name is not properly pronounced in your language.... But I am not one of the elves...." Her dislike clearly shows, hatred of her surface kin ingrained from a young age. "I am drow and you may call me D..." Her accent is still thick as it is clear she has not used the common surface language extensively in direct conversation.
"Well met." Helena says, walking up. She is breathing a bit hard still, her fair skin flushed in the encroaching dusk. "Well, not really well I guess, as some of you got hurt, but still..." She smiles at the group. "I am Helena, Scribe and Translator." She shrugs, shifting the pack on her shoulders. "I would like to suggest we get moving towards town, as it will be dark soon, and I'd rather be in the inn before that happens."
Essie blinks a bit as Bramble addresses her directly. But she shakes her head at him. "No, I'm afraid I don't have any left," she says.
Then she turns to the drow and gives her a smile. She's never seen a drow before, but, well, she hasn't seen a lot of things before. This whole adventure is going to be a learning experience. "It is good to see you up and standing. I am glad we could be of assistance to you. My name is Essie."
Bramble blinks confusedly at Essie. “You ate all four last night? Nothing for it, it was my fault for not properly extolling the virtues and uses of the berries.”
He will reach into his pocket where his last remaining Goodberry resides and will offer it to “Dee”. “This will offer a small amount of healing and provide enough nutrition for a whole day. Take it, please.” He offers up the berry in the center of his upturned palm, inviting her to take it, if she will.
"Yes assistance...." Daerthe mutters as she looks around at them, finding that her goal of pillaging supplies from a duo of distracted people had become a much more difficult task. At the mention of the inn she snorts and snakes her head, starting to say something in her native tongue before stopping. "Unless they are not able to see color I will not be going to any such place. Ibleth do not like my kind..."
As the berry is handed to her, the drow takes it and starts to reach for something on her neck before she pauses and remembers she the Holy Symbol she had once carried had long since been destroyed by the sunlight and her failure to care for it after the goddess had abandoned her.
She gives the druid a wary look but slowly bites into it, looking ready to spit it out of it tastes strange.
Still pounding the plant creature into the ground, Stigandr pauses and reaches into a pouch. "I have some left." He pops one of the magical berries into his mouth and makes a job of chewing it, though it surely wouldn't have needed that much work.
Done with the monster, he turns and props his maul on one shoulder, looking around. "Greetings, all! I am Stigandr of the Sky Pony tribe, of the Uthgardt peoples."
Addressing the group, Ryndar replies "It is a pleasure to meet you all. My companion and I make for Nightstone this evening, then we will be continuing south towards Daggerford in the morning. You all seem quite capable, and your company would be welcome as far as our paths align."
"That the town will not welcome you is not my concern, drow." spits Ryndar. His tone towards the dark elf can only be described as acidic. He turns, nodding towards Helena, "Come, we must be quick if we are to beat the sun."
He turns from the group, continuing on the path towards Nightstone. Several feet down the road, he looks back over his shoulder to make sure Helena is following.
"Yes assistance...." Daerthe mutters as she looks around at them, finding that her goal of pillaging supplies from a duo of distracted people had become a much more difficult task. At the mention of the inn she snorts and snakes her head, starting to say something in her native tongue before stopping. "Unless they are not able to see color I will not be going to any such place. Ibleth do not like my kind..."
As the berry is handed to her, the drow takes it and starts to reach for something on her neck before she pauses and remembers she the Holy Symbol she had once carried had long since been destroyed by the sunlight and her failure to care for it after the goddess had abandoned her.
She gives the druid a wary look but slowly bites into it, looking ready to spit it out of it tastes strange.
Bramble smiles as the first bridge of trust is established.
”Who is Ibleth? Are any of us Ibleth?” He gestures to everyone surrounding the scene.
Addressing the group, Ryndar replies "It is a pleasure to meet you all. My companion and I make for Nightstone this evening, then we will be continuing south towards Daggerford in the morning. You all seem quite capable, and your company would be welcome as far as our paths align."
"That the town will not welcome you is not my concern, drow." spits Ryndar. His tone towards the dark elf can only be described as acidic. He turns, nodding towards Helena, "Come, we must be quick if we are to beat the sun."
He turns from the group, continuing on the path towards Nightstone. Several feet down the road, he looks back over his shoulder to make sure Helena is following.
Bramble’s eyebrows instinctively rise and his gesturing to all diverts instead towards Ryndar ... “Ibleth?”
"You are all ibleth.... But that one is much worse...." Daerthe says as she glares at the surface elf. She shakes her head and pulls the ragged hood of her cloak up to hide more of her appearance. With a huff she stands straight, following after him with the stride of a stuck up noble.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
The group continues along the path for another good hour. Perhaps not so much a “group” as a few collections of individuals who happen to be headed in more or less the same direction. It’s a cool day, but the walk and the afternoon sun keep them warm, especially when the chill wind dies down every now and then. Some hyacinth and daffodil create spots of color at the feet of the trees and bushes that border the path. Birdsong fills the air.
(Any further conversation or action before we get to Nightstone?)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM: Into the Feywild Marva Stormaventendrian - Level 1 Dragonborn Cleric of the Tempest - Looking for a campaign
Bramble will walk alongside "Dee" for as long as she'll put up with him.
"I do not know "your kind" to know whether I should like you or not. Seems Ryndar knows or, rather, has some thoughts on the matter, but do you mind if I talk with you so that I can make up my own mind?"
If there are no objections, Bramble will start, "The sunlight seems to bother you, so I can guess that you are from a distant realm and for whatever reason you find yourself in our realm. And by the looks of it you have not been here terribly long if you only have one word for all of us, 'Ibleth'. Well, I can assure you that although many of us look similar, we each have different goals and dreams and especially methods to obtain those goals. Over the epochs some methods tend to be more successful than others, at least in our realm. Things like cooperation tend to succeed more often than an individual trying to push his/her will on everyone else. That person might succeed for a season, but they will always die alone. Like that vine blight you happened to discover. Were it not for the cooperation of our group, it could have been you who died alone. Does that make sense?"
Essie is relieved upon seeing the drow elf pick themselves back up, and she lets out a breath. She takes a minute to assess the situation. Then she grimaces and reaches out a hand. A murmur of Celestial, and she casts Sacred Flame toward the vines.
Dex Saving Throw: DC 14
Damage: 3
"Let go of me, monster!!" Stigandr yells as he attempts to bring his maul down on the creature.
Attack: 8 Damage: 12
Enzo Ballantine - Shadow Sorcerer
Round 3
Essie sees that the drow is recovering, breathes a sigh of relief, and casts Sacred Flame. The slow-moving plant attempts to evade the attack...
Dex Save: 9
It is unable to avoid the divine flames that tower around it for a moment, searing into its leaves and branches. It is looking pretty torn up.
DM: Into the Feywild
Marva Stormaventendrian - Level 1 Dragonborn Cleric of the Tempest - Looking for a campaign
Daerthe curses as slams her rapier back into the sheathe as she misses, awkwardly drawing her shortbow and knocking an arrow. On reflex she almost prays for the Spider Queen to bless her with a bit but shakes her head and lets the missile fly.
Shortbow: Attack: 8 Damage: 10
Sneak Attack: 5
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Kayassa Level 3 | Satyr | Warlock (Cleath13's LMoP)
Bertolt Silentlash Level 3 | Variant Human | Bard (Our Little Lives Kept in Equipoise: Death House)
Daerthe Narcion Level 4 | Drow | Rogue (Karmoli's Great Upheaval)
Round 3 continued...
Despite the vines that restrict her movement, the drow draws back her shortbow and lets fly an arrow. It plunges deep into the heart of the vegetative monster which shudders for a moment, then collapses, releasing Stigandr. The malevolent plant creature is finished, the danger past. The vines that restrained the drow wither away after a short time. She and the barbarian are bruised and sore but alive. Stigandr gives the creature one last smash with his maul for good measure. Bramble carefully stows his last enchanted river stone in his sack and brushes the remaining vines away from the others with his quarterstaff.
DM: Into the Feywild
Marva Stormaventendrian - Level 1 Dragonborn Cleric of the Tempest - Looking for a campaign
“Ho, ho, a most interesting introduction.” Bramble says to the three new people. He uses his quarterstaff and shield to brush aside and hold back the vegetation, trying to form a path out of the thicket for those in the thick of it.
”Stigandr, did you save any of the berries I gave you last evening? If you did, now would be a good time for you to eat one.”
Bramble then looks up and left to Essie, “And Essie, did you perchance save a Goodberry that you could give to this sneaky but heroic elf.” There was a slight lilt in the word “elf” as in a slight question.
Bramble had been a wanderer for years and although her features seemed to align with elven features, they were different enough that maybe he spoke too quickly. “My apologies if I spoke out of turn. Perhaps we should address each other with our names. My name is Bramble, Bramble Mossbottom.”
Wilhorn Dustwater | Halfling, Lightfoot | Sorcerer, Divine Soul 2 / Warlock, Celestial 2 | Warriors, LMoP (NathanAscher -DM)
”I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” - Douglas Adams
Ryndar approaches the new travelers cautiously. "Ryndar Shadowsbane." He returns as Bramble offers introduction. He continues, "Quickly, we should move out of this overgrowth back towards the road. There may be more of those creatures lurking. Best not to disturb them."
As he ushers the group out of the edge of the woodlands, he keeps an eye trained on all of the strangers, particularly the drow.
Ryndar Shadowsbane - Lvl 3 Eldarin Fighter | Kassar - Lvl 2 Lizardfolk Druid (Circle of Stars) | Finnegan (Finn) Taggert - Lvl 1 Human Cleric (Peace Domain) |
Verdan Schmidt - Lvl 2 Half-Elf Bard | Grithik - Lvl 5 Deep Gnome Warlock (Celestial)
Daerthe moves to shoulder her shortbow, her hands lowering to rest at her side as she gives the others a blank stare from her visible eye. As she looks them over she looks as if to decide if she will even bother to speak to them.
"My name is not properly pronounced in your language.... But I am not one of the elves...." Her dislike clearly shows, hatred of her surface kin ingrained from a young age. "I am drow and you may call me D..." Her accent is still thick as it is clear she has not used the common surface language extensively in direct conversation.
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Kayassa Level 3 | Satyr | Warlock (Cleath13's LMoP)
Bertolt Silentlash Level 3 | Variant Human | Bard (Our Little Lives Kept in Equipoise: Death House)
Daerthe Narcion Level 4 | Drow | Rogue (Karmoli's Great Upheaval)
"Well met." Helena says, walking up. She is breathing a bit hard still, her fair skin flushed in the encroaching dusk. "Well, not really well I guess, as some of you got hurt, but still..." She smiles at the group. "I am Helena, Scribe and Translator." She shrugs, shifting the pack on her shoulders. "I would like to suggest we get moving towards town, as it will be dark soon, and I'd rather be in the inn before that happens."
Essie blinks a bit as Bramble addresses her directly. But she shakes her head at him. "No, I'm afraid I don't have any left," she says.
Then she turns to the drow and gives her a smile. She's never seen a drow before, but, well, she hasn't seen a lot of things before. This whole adventure is going to be a learning experience. "It is good to see you up and standing. I am glad we could be of assistance to you. My name is Essie."
Bramble blinks confusedly at Essie. “You ate all four last night? Nothing for it, it was my fault for not properly extolling the virtues and uses of the berries.”
He will reach into his pocket where his last remaining Goodberry resides and will offer it to “Dee”. “This will offer a small amount of healing and provide enough nutrition for a whole day. Take it, please.” He offers up the berry in the center of his upturned palm, inviting her to take it, if she will.
Wilhorn Dustwater | Halfling, Lightfoot | Sorcerer, Divine Soul 2 / Warlock, Celestial 2 | Warriors, LMoP (NathanAscher -DM)
”I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” - Douglas Adams
"Yes assistance...." Daerthe mutters as she looks around at them, finding that her goal of pillaging supplies from a duo of distracted people had become a much more difficult task. At the mention of the inn she snorts and snakes her head, starting to say something in her native tongue before stopping. "Unless they are not able to see color I will not be going to any such place. Ibleth do not like my kind..."
As the berry is handed to her, the drow takes it and starts to reach for something on her neck before she pauses and remembers she the Holy Symbol she had once carried had long since been destroyed by the sunlight and her failure to care for it after the goddess had abandoned her.
She gives the druid a wary look but slowly bites into it, looking ready to spit it out of it tastes strange.
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Kayassa Level 3 | Satyr | Warlock (Cleath13's LMoP)
Bertolt Silentlash Level 3 | Variant Human | Bard (Our Little Lives Kept in Equipoise: Death House)
Daerthe Narcion Level 4 | Drow | Rogue (Karmoli's Great Upheaval)
Still pounding the plant creature into the ground, Stigandr pauses and reaches into a pouch. "I have some left." He pops one of the magical berries into his mouth and makes a job of chewing it, though it surely wouldn't have needed that much work.
Done with the monster, he turns and props his maul on one shoulder, looking around. "Greetings, all! I am Stigandr of the Sky Pony tribe, of the Uthgardt peoples."
Enzo Ballantine - Shadow Sorcerer
Addressing the group, Ryndar replies "It is a pleasure to meet you all. My companion and I make for Nightstone this evening, then we will be continuing south towards Daggerford in the morning. You all seem quite capable, and your company would be welcome as far as our paths align."
"That the town will not welcome you is not my concern, drow." spits Ryndar. His tone towards the dark elf can only be described as acidic. He turns, nodding towards Helena, "Come, we must be quick if we are to beat the sun."
He turns from the group, continuing on the path towards Nightstone. Several feet down the road, he looks back over his shoulder to make sure Helena is following.
Ryndar Shadowsbane - Lvl 3 Eldarin Fighter | Kassar - Lvl 2 Lizardfolk Druid (Circle of Stars) | Finnegan (Finn) Taggert - Lvl 1 Human Cleric (Peace Domain) |
Verdan Schmidt - Lvl 2 Half-Elf Bard | Grithik - Lvl 5 Deep Gnome Warlock (Celestial)
Bramble smiles as the first bridge of trust is established.
”Who is Ibleth? Are any of us Ibleth?” He gestures to everyone surrounding the scene.
Wilhorn Dustwater | Halfling, Lightfoot | Sorcerer, Divine Soul 2 / Warlock, Celestial 2 | Warriors, LMoP (NathanAscher -DM)
”I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” - Douglas Adams
Bramble’s eyebrows instinctively rise and his gesturing to all diverts instead towards Ryndar ... “Ibleth?”
Wilhorn Dustwater | Halfling, Lightfoot | Sorcerer, Divine Soul 2 / Warlock, Celestial 2 | Warriors, LMoP (NathanAscher -DM)
”I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” - Douglas Adams
"You are all ibleth.... But that one is much worse...." Daerthe says as she glares at the surface elf. She shakes her head and pulls the ragged hood of her cloak up to hide more of her appearance. With a huff she stands straight, following after him with the stride of a stuck up noble.
Rekuberk Onc Level 8 | Half Orc | Barbarian (The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks)
Kayassa Level 3 | Satyr | Warlock (Cleath13's LMoP)
Bertolt Silentlash Level 3 | Variant Human | Bard (Our Little Lives Kept in Equipoise: Death House)
Daerthe Narcion Level 4 | Drow | Rogue (Karmoli's Great Upheaval)
The group continues along the path for another good hour. Perhaps not so much a “group” as a few collections of individuals who happen to be headed in more or less the same direction. It’s a cool day, but the walk and the afternoon sun keep them warm, especially when the chill wind dies down every now and then. Some hyacinth and daffodil create spots of color at the feet of the trees and bushes that border the path. Birdsong fills the air.
(Any further conversation or action before we get to Nightstone?)
DM: Into the Feywild
Marva Stormaventendrian - Level 1 Dragonborn Cleric of the Tempest - Looking for a campaign
Bramble will walk alongside "Dee" for as long as she'll put up with him.
"I do not know "your kind" to know whether I should like you or not. Seems Ryndar knows or, rather, has some thoughts on the matter, but do you mind if I talk with you so that I can make up my own mind?"
Wilhorn Dustwater | Halfling, Lightfoot | Sorcerer, Divine Soul 2 / Warlock, Celestial 2 | Warriors, LMoP (NathanAscher -DM)
”I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” - Douglas Adams
If there are no objections, Bramble will start, "The sunlight seems to bother you, so I can guess that you are from a distant realm and for whatever reason you find yourself in our realm. And by the looks of it you have not been here terribly long if you only have one word for all of us, 'Ibleth'. Well, I can assure you that although many of us look similar, we each have different goals and dreams and especially methods to obtain those goals. Over the epochs some methods tend to be more successful than others, at least in our realm. Things like cooperation tend to succeed more often than an individual trying to push his/her will on everyone else. That person might succeed for a season, but they will always die alone. Like that vine blight you happened to discover. Were it not for the cooperation of our group, it could have been you who died alone. Does that make sense?"
Wilhorn Dustwater | Halfling, Lightfoot | Sorcerer, Divine Soul 2 / Warlock, Celestial 2 | Warriors, LMoP (NathanAscher -DM)
”I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” - Douglas Adams