Whistler put a hand on Case's shoulder as he walked past him. "We ah' gonna finish sleepin'," he said, nodding toward Aranea and Azaka. "That is, if'n you and Gear don't mind standin' watch the rest o' the night?" The older man's tired smile seemed to indicate confidence in the warforged as he retreated to his bedroll and laid back down. "Th'other big guy can divvy the coin in the mornin'" he added with a yawn before going silent.
Case stands there for a moment, "So, what do we do now?"
"We rest and keep moving forward" - Says Azaka
The night continues without any threat, the usual sound of waves crashing in the shore changes to a constant stream flowing through the river. The morning comes and now everyone well rested is ready to continue ((you may add any comment or describe what would your characters do in the morning if you like but other than actually entering the jungle and leaving behind the shores of Chult there is nothing of interest that happened during the first half of the day.
As the day starts to fall, Azaka turn to Whistler and point at a pair of stuby feet sticking out of a bush - She walks slowly warning Whistler to watch the group in case of an ambush, she gets close enough to move away the foliage to reveal the person behind the bushes. After taking a look she raises and eyebrow turns to Whistler and says "We found the rest of dwarf's head...and 5 other bodies" - she walks back to Whistler and continues " It is Musharib, another guide from port Nyanzaru, I heard he was guiding a group before me but if I need to guess they should've had just one day ahead of us...they were attacked in the night..."She notices some marks on the ground...footsteps " Someone from this group escaped, or at least died in a different place."
Somewhere else around the same time than Azaka's discovery. A human covered in mud wearing a hat sits on a rock to clean his hat with a hand that's just as dirty as the hat, as he hit the hat someone patted his shoulder a young Firbolg whose garments had a similar fate than the man with the hat appeared behind him.
Before they can exchange any words the hear several steps coming closer and then stopping. "It's Musharib [...]" they hear. The man with hat frustrated notices how he seemed to be walking circles for an entire day.
" Someone from this group escaped, or at least died in a different place."
Nodding, Whistler immediately set to trying to track the prints. "Well, guess we better find 'em. Might need our help."
(( Not sure which roll is appropriate; please use whichever works, or none if inappropriate. Perception Check:7 Investigation Check:22 Survival Check:12 ))
"Oh, Musharib? My, Arabelle, we seem to have finally found our way back to my camp... Wait.... Attacked? Died? What in tarnation?" Randal says to his new companion, before starting to rush towards where he heard the voice talking.
From behind the bushes arrives a human male, approximately in his middle twenties. He has shoulder length, wavy, light brown hair, partially covered with a fancy greyish-blue hat with a large light purple feather. He also has a goatee, maybe a bit lighter than his hair, tawny skin, and piercing green eyes. He wears surprisingly fine clothes for a trip in the jungle, colored similarly to his hat, and more fittingly some leather armor on top of them. He has a rapier on his side, a viol hangs on his backpack, and he holds a crystal ball seemingly filled with purple smoke.
He looks around, and notices the bodies. "What... what has happened here?" he manages to ask, his face pale from the sight.
“who we are is of no import to you as of yet, for you are outnumbered,” Gear motions to the group he stands before, each more armed than the last, Gear the only one wothout a weapon, and even then he is a 7ft Warforged, “so perhaps more to the point, who are you!?”
Gear suspects he is no thread based on the outfit, but keeps the air of neutrality in his voice until the stranger proves himself a friend. In this jungle, we could use all the friends we could get… at the thought, Gear looks to Azaka, thankful for her companionship and guidance.
The firbolg standing by Randal's side has pale, blue skin and wavy, red hair that stretches pass her waist. She wore brown pants and a white dress that extended just beyond the knees. On top of her outfit, she wore a scale chest plate and had a shield equipped on her back. The shield itself had a symbol of a blue waterfall painted on its face.
The firbolg left Randal's side and ran to the nearest dead body on the floor. Paying no heed to the warforge's demands, she kneels besides the corpse to feel for a pulse. Realizing that her fallen comrade has been dead for too long and out of the scope her healing magic, the firbolg sheds a few, silent tears. She then wipes her eyes with her arm, unfazed by the mud it smears across her face. Finally, the firbolg acknowledges the warforge and his party's presence.
Her brown eyes, which were once soft and round become sharp and fierce as she glares at the warforge. She stands up to her full height, just shy of 8 ft tall, and brandishes her shield and dagger. "Did you have a part to play in the slaying of this one's party?" the firbolg, gazing down on the relatively short warforge, speaks with an unwavering firmness and authority, like that of a mother lecturing her delinquent son.
“I carry no weapons, but the jungle is not a gentle place. We will all die, some earlier than others. Best not scare off our guide, unless you know the jungle yourself.”
Gear believes in balance not non-violence, he wonders how long she can last without defensive or offensive capabilities… he also wonders where her priorities lie, in the same direction, or opposed to his own.
“who we are is of no import to you as of yet, for you are outnumbered, [...] so perhaps more to the point, who are you!?”
The man's horrified look turns into one of confusion, and he mutters to himself: "What? I do not think I said anything to warrant such a response..." After a second he proceeds to answer: "I am Randal Riesling of Suzail. An archeologist, a traveler, a medium, a minstrel, and a gentleman. At your service", bowing at the end, holding one hand to his chest and the other to his side in the air, holding his hat. (ooc: not a native english speaker, is there a word or shorter phrase for bowing this way?)
"You carry no weapons, yet your allies do, and this one's friends lie on the floor slain. This one knows that weapons are not the only way to bring death, so your words are of little comfort. You threaten us with numbers, expect us to submit to you and have yet to answer my question: did you slay this one's party?" The firbolg repeats her last question with an even greater intensity.
(ooc: Native english speaker here, I don't know of a shorthand word for that specific bow but you described it succinctly enough.)
Grimacing a bit, Whistler stepped forward as the tension began to mount. "Now, how's 'bout we all jus' calm ourselves down a bit, eh?" He motioned open-handedly, arms raised as he approached and then came to a stop between the groups. "We found the dwarf like that... and that's after we came 'cross some nasty lizardfolk last night that were carryin' 'round a dwarf head, fo' no good reason. So no, we ain't the reason he's dead, nor his crew; but if it's any consolation, we took care ah those who were 'sponsible."
Point made, the bounty hunter lowered his hands. His face softened a touch as he continued. "Anyways, sorry for yo' loss. If ya'll don't have no one else left in ya' party, we'd be happy to let ya' join our posse. With everyone gettin' an equal share o' loot, 'course."
Turning to the bard, he added, "My name's Whistler. Or sometimes it's 'Old Man Whistler,' jus' in case you'd heard. If you like, I can help give yo' comrades a proper burial."
(( OOC: @Laurender - I've been trying to give Whistler a rather thick southern US accent. If you have trouble understanding him, I'll just have him speak in an easier-to-read manner. ))
Azaka continues after Whistler " Musharib was a good friend, obsessed with the Newts that invaded his home, much like myself he was seeking for others help...but it is late and we can't know right now if the Lizardfolks we defeated last night are from a bigger settlement, if that's the case they can't be too far from here."
“If and when I kill something, you will know it. Tyr is balanced in his judgements.” Gear says under his breath, noting the arrival of a cleric, and one that worships a different god with different beliefs to his own…
”fair is fair, I’ve no time to waste on the morality of actions in these deadly jungles, as long as we each act within the ethics of our own domain. I will not attack you, nor I assume you would attack me, and Aranea and Whistler have shown themselves capable of self control… azaka is probably the only person here o can’t guarantee on this front, as since these jungles are her home, I assume she has enemies she would kill with out without your permission…”
The firbolg hears Whistler's words and visibly eases up, "This one hears you and thanks you for your clear response. This one understands that your party has not played a role in the deaths of this one's party." The firbolg sheathes her dagger and takes a moment to fully take in the scene of her dead allies. "This one goes by Arabelle and would greatly appreciate it if you could help her bury her passed friends."
Arabelle then proceeds to dig a hole large enough for all of the deceased. Those watching close enough can see that she despite her height, she is not all that muscular and struggles as she digs. Whatever events she and Randal had gone through to leave them muddy has left her tired and her breath grows haggard. Nonetheless, the firbolg continues her task without rest, completely focused on giving her allies a proper burial.
As she digs, Arabelle comments on the warforge's words,"In these woods, killing has been a matter of when, not if. When the situation demands lives to be taken in the name of justified self-defense, this one is not against violence. That said, murder is murder, and this one feels no satisfaction when taking life. There is always room to consider the morality of things. For if we make it an exception to abandon our morals every time they are challenging to uphold, then that makes us no different than the monsters that dwell in these jungles. Nonetheless, this one sees the benefits of traveling in a larger group and will take the human's offer of joining forces."
Whistler helped where he could, quietly digging and moving the bodies. Not ever having much interest in the gods, he decided it was best that someone else say a few words, if any were to be said.
After helping Arabelle the day was gone and it was time to rest...
((I'm going to take you to the next point of interest in the jungle. It'll be a total of 7 days and 7 nights to reach the camp Righteous. Please deduct seven rations and roll 7 times survival to see if you were able to catch more food on each day)) I'm still rolling for encounters but this time I'll present a list of situations depending on the dice rolls. I'll skip rolls for night so it'll be a series of 3 rolls per day. So here we go.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Case has been quiet since the fight in the middle of the night, barely even registered the arrival of the newcomers. He had been completely useless in battle, missing with his attacks. On top of this, he was restrained by magic. Perhaps he was not as prepared for stopping an apocalypse as he had believed. Or maybe, time had simply been too unkind to him and he was no longer functioning as well as he thought.
However, Case was still determined to help his allies in whatever manner they felt he could be of best use.
(Investigation: 11)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Gear is happy to have another moral figure on the team. He personally agreed that killing was a last resort, though the jungle presents that decision multiple times a day… hunting and fishing and even where you place your foot, one is surrounded by death.
after the first day of travel as a larger group, Gear didn’t notice, but he was getting sloppier about his worrying ways. His mind floated off to wondering which of their patron’s items he wanted, and what magical places they would encounter… his rigidity was slipping, and it felt liberating.
as they prepped for camp, he walked about the edge of the camp, observing which direction the sun would rise, hoping to enjoy the transition to dark then light again: he looked into the jungle and rested his soul.
survival 9
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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Case stands there for a moment, "So, what do we do now?"
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Whistler put a hand on Case's shoulder as he walked past him. "We ah' gonna finish sleepin'," he said, nodding toward Aranea and Azaka. "That is, if'n you and Gear don't mind standin' watch the rest o' the night?" The older man's tired smile seemed to indicate confidence in the warforged as he retreated to his bedroll and laid back down. "Th'other big guy can divvy the coin in the mornin'" he added with a yawn before going silent.
Sterling - V. Human Bard 3 (College of Art) - [Pic] - [Traits] - in Bards: Dragon Heist (w/ Mansion) - Jasper's [Pic] - Sterling's [Sigil]
Tooltips Post (2024 PHB updates) - incl. General Rules
>> New FOW threat & treasure tables: fow-advanced-threat-tables.pdf fow-advanced-treasure-table.pdf
"We rest and keep moving forward" - Says Azaka
The night continues without any threat, the usual sound of waves crashing in the shore changes to a constant stream flowing through the river. The morning comes and now everyone well rested is ready to continue ((you may add any comment or describe what would your characters do in the morning if you like but other than actually entering the jungle and leaving behind the shores of Chult there is nothing of interest that happened during the first half of the day.
As the day starts to fall, Azaka turn to Whistler and point at a pair of stuby feet sticking out of a bush - She walks slowly warning Whistler to watch the group in case of an ambush, she gets close enough to move away the foliage to reveal the person behind the bushes. After taking a look she raises and eyebrow turns to Whistler and says "We found the rest of dwarf's head...and 5 other bodies" - she walks back to Whistler and continues " It is Musharib, another guide from port Nyanzaru, I heard he was guiding a group before me but if I need to guess they should've had just one day ahead of us...they were attacked in the night..." She notices some marks on the ground...footsteps " Someone from this group escaped, or at least died in a different place."
Somewhere else around the same time than Azaka's discovery. A human covered in mud wearing a hat sits on a rock to clean his hat with a hand that's just as dirty as the hat, as he hit the hat someone patted his shoulder a young Firbolg whose garments had a similar fate than the man with the hat appeared behind him.
Before they can exchange any words the hear several steps coming closer and then stopping. "It's Musharib [...]" they hear. The man with hat frustrated notices how he seemed to be walking circles for an entire day.
Nodding, Whistler immediately set to trying to track the prints. "Well, guess we better find 'em. Might need our help."
(( Not sure which roll is appropriate; please use whichever works, or none if inappropriate.
Perception Check: 7
Investigation Check: 22
Survival Check: 12 ))
Sterling - V. Human Bard 3 (College of Art) - [Pic] - [Traits] - in Bards: Dragon Heist (w/ Mansion) - Jasper's [Pic] - Sterling's [Sigil]
Tooltips Post (2024 PHB updates) - incl. General Rules
>> New FOW threat & treasure tables: fow-advanced-threat-tables.pdf fow-advanced-treasure-table.pdf
"Oh, Musharib? My, Arabelle, we seem to have finally found our way back to my camp... Wait.... Attacked? Died? What in tarnation?" Randal says to his new companion, before starting to rush towards where he heard the voice talking.
From behind the bushes arrives a human male, approximately in his middle twenties. He has shoulder length, wavy, light brown hair, partially covered with a fancy greyish-blue hat with a large light purple feather. He also has a goatee, maybe a bit lighter than his hair, tawny skin, and piercing green eyes. He wears surprisingly fine clothes for a trip in the jungle, colored similarly to his hat, and more fittingly some leather armor on top of them. He has a rapier on his side, a viol hangs on his backpack, and he holds a crystal ball seemingly filled with purple smoke.
He looks around, and notices the bodies. "What... what has happened here?" he manages to ask, his face pale from the sight.
“who we are is of no import to you as of yet, for you are outnumbered,” Gear motions to the group he stands before, each more armed than the last, Gear the only one wothout a weapon, and even then he is a 7ft Warforged, “so perhaps more to the point, who are you!?”
Gear suspects he is no thread based on the outfit, but keeps the air of neutrality in his voice until the stranger proves himself a friend. In this jungle, we could use all the friends we could get… at the thought, Gear looks to Azaka, thankful for her companionship and guidance.
The firbolg standing by Randal's side has pale, blue skin and wavy, red hair that stretches pass her waist. She wore brown pants and a white dress that extended just beyond the knees. On top of her outfit, she wore a scale chest plate and had a shield equipped on her back. The shield itself had a symbol of a blue waterfall painted on its face.
The firbolg left Randal's side and ran to the nearest dead body on the floor. Paying no heed to the warforge's demands, she kneels besides the corpse to feel for a pulse. Realizing that her fallen comrade has been dead for too long and out of the scope her healing magic, the firbolg sheds a few, silent tears. She then wipes her eyes with her arm, unfazed by the mud it smears across her face. Finally, the firbolg acknowledges the warforge and his party's presence.
Her brown eyes, which were once soft and round become sharp and fierce as she glares at the warforge. She stands up to her full height, just shy of 8 ft tall, and brandishes her shield and dagger. "Did you have a part to play in the slaying of this one's party?" the firbolg, gazing down on the relatively short warforge, speaks with an unwavering firmness and authority, like that of a mother lecturing her delinquent son.
Ro Aleron (Ro the Red) -> Illithid, Wizard 8 (Chronugist) // AURYN
“I carry no weapons, but the jungle is not a gentle place. We will all die, some earlier than others. Best not scare off our guide, unless you know the jungle yourself.”
Gear believes in balance not non-violence, he wonders how long she can last without defensive or offensive capabilities… he also wonders where her priorities lie, in the same direction, or opposed to his own.
The man's horrified look turns into one of confusion, and he mutters to himself: "What? I do not think I said anything to warrant such a response..." After a second he proceeds to answer: "I am Randal Riesling of Suzail. An archeologist, a traveler, a medium, a minstrel, and a gentleman. At your service", bowing at the end, holding one hand to his chest and the other to his side in the air, holding his hat. (ooc: not a native english speaker, is there a word or shorter phrase for bowing this way?)
"You carry no weapons, yet your allies do, and this one's friends lie on the floor slain. This one knows that weapons are not the only way to bring death, so your words are of little comfort. You threaten us with numbers, expect us to submit to you and have yet to answer my question: did you slay this one's party?" The firbolg repeats her last question with an even greater intensity.
(ooc: Native english speaker here, I don't know of a shorthand word for that specific bow but you described it succinctly enough.)
Ro Aleron (Ro the Red) -> Illithid, Wizard 8 (Chronugist) // AURYN
Grimacing a bit, Whistler stepped forward as the tension began to mount. "Now, how's 'bout we all jus' calm ourselves down a bit, eh?" He motioned open-handedly, arms raised as he approached and then came to a stop between the groups. "We found the dwarf like that... and that's after we came 'cross some nasty lizardfolk last night that were carryin' 'round a dwarf head, fo' no good reason. So no, we ain't the reason he's dead, nor his crew; but if it's any consolation, we took care ah those who were 'sponsible."
Point made, the bounty hunter lowered his hands. His face softened a touch as he continued. "Anyways, sorry for yo' loss. If ya'll don't have no one else left in ya' party, we'd be happy to let ya' join our posse. With everyone gettin' an equal share o' loot, 'course."
Turning to the bard, he added, "My name's Whistler. Or sometimes it's 'Old Man Whistler,' jus' in case you'd heard. If you like, I can help give yo' comrades a proper burial."
(( OOC: @Laurender - I've been trying to give Whistler a rather thick southern US accent. If you have trouble understanding him, I'll just have him speak in an easier-to-read manner. ))
Sterling - V. Human Bard 3 (College of Art) - [Pic] - [Traits] - in Bards: Dragon Heist (w/ Mansion) - Jasper's [Pic] - Sterling's [Sigil]
Tooltips Post (2024 PHB updates) - incl. General Rules
>> New FOW threat & treasure tables: fow-advanced-threat-tables.pdf fow-advanced-treasure-table.pdf
Azaka continues after Whistler " Musharib was a good friend, obsessed with the Newts that invaded his home, much like myself he was seeking for others help...but it is late and we can't know right now if the Lizardfolks we defeated last night are from a bigger settlement, if that's the case they can't be too far from here."
“If and when I kill something, you will know it. Tyr is balanced in his judgements.” Gear says under his breath, noting the arrival of a cleric, and one that worships a different god with different beliefs to his own…
”fair is fair, I’ve no time to waste on the morality of actions in these deadly jungles, as long as we each act within the ethics of our own domain. I will not attack you, nor I assume you would attack me, and Aranea and Whistler have shown themselves capable of self control… azaka is probably the only person here o can’t guarantee on this front, as since these jungles are her home, I assume she has enemies she would kill with out without your permission…”
The firbolg hears Whistler's words and visibly eases up, "This one hears you and thanks you for your clear response. This one understands that your party has not played a role in the deaths of this one's party." The firbolg sheathes her dagger and takes a moment to fully take in the scene of her dead allies. "This one goes by Arabelle and would greatly appreciate it if you could help her bury her passed friends."
Arabelle then proceeds to dig a hole large enough for all of the deceased. Those watching close enough can see that she despite her height, she is not all that muscular and struggles as she digs. Whatever events she and Randal had gone through to leave them muddy has left her tired and her breath grows haggard. Nonetheless, the firbolg continues her task without rest, completely focused on giving her allies a proper burial.
As she digs, Arabelle comments on the warforge's words, "In these woods, killing has been a matter of when, not if. When the situation demands lives to be taken in the name of justified self-defense, this one is not against violence. That said, murder is murder, and this one feels no satisfaction when taking life. There is always room to consider the morality of things. For if we make it an exception to abandon our morals every time they are challenging to uphold, then that makes us no different than the monsters that dwell in these jungles. Nonetheless, this one sees the benefits of traveling in a larger group and will take the human's offer of joining forces."
Ro Aleron (Ro the Red) -> Illithid, Wizard 8 (Chronugist) // AURYN
Whistler helped where he could, quietly digging and moving the bodies. Not ever having much interest in the gods, he decided it was best that someone else say a few words, if any were to be said.
Sterling - V. Human Bard 3 (College of Art) - [Pic] - [Traits] - in Bards: Dragon Heist (w/ Mansion) - Jasper's [Pic] - Sterling's [Sigil]
Tooltips Post (2024 PHB updates) - incl. General Rules
>> New FOW threat & treasure tables: fow-advanced-threat-tables.pdf fow-advanced-treasure-table.pdf
After helping Arabelle the day was gone and it was time to rest...

((I'm going to take you to the next point of interest in the jungle. It'll be a total of 7 days and 7 nights to reach the camp Righteous. Please deduct seven rations and roll 7 times survival to see if you were able to catch more food on each day)) I'm still rolling for encounters but this time I'll present a list of situations depending on the dice rolls. I'll skip rolls for night so it'll be a series of 3 rolls per day. So here we go.
17 16 17
13 3 5
20 7 1
4 20 6
19 18 5
15 12 15
7 3 2
That's a total of 4 encounters throughout the 7 days:
92
26
20
42
We'll be starting the first day with an encounter in the night just minutes after you've set camp and are ready to sleep.
I need investigation/survival roll as you walk around the camp to see if its clear to get some rest.
Case has been quiet since the fight in the middle of the night, barely even registered the arrival of the newcomers. He had been completely useless in battle, missing with his attacks. On top of this, he was restrained by magic. Perhaps he was not as prepared for stopping an apocalypse as he had believed. Or maybe, time had simply been too unkind to him and he was no longer functioning as well as he thought.
However, Case was still determined to help his allies in whatever manner they felt he could be of best use.
(Investigation: 11)
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Gear is happy to have another moral figure on the team. He personally agreed that killing was a last resort, though the jungle presents that decision multiple times a day… hunting and fishing and even where you place your foot, one is surrounded by death.
after the first day of travel as a larger group, Gear didn’t notice, but he was getting sloppier about his worrying ways. His mind floated off to wondering which of their patron’s items he wanted, and what magical places they would encounter… his rigidity was slipping, and it felt liberating.
as they prepped for camp, he walked about the edge of the camp, observing which direction the sun would rise, hoping to enjoy the transition to dark then light again: he looked into the jungle and rested his soul.
survival 9