I pull back my cloak to reveal my fey ancestry which has formed my features. "What is it you want to speak with the Fey about?" I start packing up the food I had been eating on into my pack.
"Well put, Crassus, well put." Pict replies, readjusting his vest and surveying the forest ahead. "It wouldn't do to remain here much longer. I imagine that what we all seek lies deeper in."
Upon hearing the elf's query and seeing his Fey features, Pict's expression turns blank for a moment, as if concerned with matters far away from this misty wood, but soon his eyes are sharp again. "Ah yes, one of the Fair Folk, indeed."
He finally states. "Your people do have a strong bond with the Fey, it's true, but I'm afraid this business only concerns your distant ancestors, my Elven friend. Were I to speak of it recklessly, I fear the repercussions."
He lowers his voice then, to just over a whisper. "I've seen them, you know: the Elves who walk the Wilds. Glorious creatures, but secretive. I've only caught the tiniest glimpse of them, or I might not think they were real myself. Truly wonderful."
With that, he steps away from Erlan entirely, gazing inwards to the rest of the Witchwood. The endless trees were familiar, but strange. He felt an unease as he considered the journey ahead, despite not knowing why. There was something in the air. An imbalance. He thought. He took a few steps deeper into the wild, once again using his quarterstaff as a walking stick, assuming the rest of the group was behind him.
I'm not exactly sure what the GM would like us to do as we navigate or whether it is necessary to roll for checks at this stage, but in case it is I've rolled Nature and Survival.
”Well I guess we’re getting a move on.” Hopefully this old man isn’t crazy. “Where do you hail from Pict?” I say to the old man. I follow slightly behind him off to the side.
Violetalso follows trusting that Pictknows what he's doing. Both Crassusand Erlanwill notice that Violetis more at ease moving through this unknown forest than socialising in the tavern. She's smiling a lot and seems to be enjoying this trip through this forest so far. She's not carefully pondering her steps. On the contrary even when tugged away in some kind of inner monologue she seems to instinctly avoids tripping over roots or entangling herself in bushes using her staff to brush aside branches.
With some kind implicitness she tugges away some edible berries from a nearby bush and starts to eat them, so she's either naive and lucky or at least somewhat knowledgeable. "Crassus, do you want to try some of these Halonberries? They tickle your tongue." offering some to the Dragonborn.
Violet will not interfere with Picts guidance, unless he makes something really stupid, so I'll check against my own judgement.
No one could get used to how quickly night fell in this forest. Suns last beams could not get through thick foliage and fir needles. But stopping right away just seemed like a waste.
The company continued their walk, illuminating the road with torches and fairy light the druid readily provided. Walking seemed easier as well – not that Pict did anything particular, the even where road was overgrown, the branches readily parted at the lightest touch, recognizing the priest of nature.
The forest itself changed in the dark. The night chill creeped between the trees and the thick heavy mist rose from the ground. The birds stopped singing at sunset and the oppressive silence was only interrupted by an occasional hoot of an owl.
Crassus and Violet were ill at ease – neither of them knew what to expect to come out of the hostile shadows. Ranger and druid knew full well how the woods changed after sundown and Crassus believed them, but Violet was harder to convince.
Whispers that she couldn’t make out in the morning now took form of constant warning humming. “Beware the shadows, feel our dread, look out for danger that waits ahead.” This simple, cheesy rhyme that first had her worried sick, but then, as nothing had decided to jump them from the nearest bush, it just became annoying.
It was well into the night when the party finally decided to stop. Violet took her chance to show off, using her magic to start a bonfire when the ranger was just reaching for tinderbox. Ranger rolled his eyes, but spotted a big smile on a woman’s face and decided to say nothing.
Supper gave everyone an unexpected surprise. The rations they bought two days ago began to dry out. They were still edible and provided sustenance, but tasted like a mouthful of sawdust. Looks like the old lady that sold these, had made them a few months ago, not days like she claimed.
Grumpy and unsatisfied, everyone undid their bedrolls and started preparing for the night. Everyone, except for Violet, who volunteered to take the first watch.
Half an hour had passed. There were still some time before she could rest, and hedge witch quickly got tired of sitting there, staring in the darkness. Voices either the danger had passed or the voices grew tired of speaking. She started to doze off a bit, when she noticed something strange in the distance.
Light. Not torches or mage fire, but a soft glow, warm and welcoming. The light did not move, but flickered hundred feet away. She could not tell it’s source and decided it was important enough to wake everyone up.
Violet makes an arcana check againgst DC of 15. On a succesfull check, I will tell what's going on and you will procede from there and you disregard the next few sentences.
On a failed check, everyone makes a wisdom saving throw against the DC of 17. Everyone, except for Pict, rolls with disadvantage. A failed wisdom check means that the character will be curious and decide to investigate, wherether because they want to know what it is or because they would rather not leave a wolf behind, so to speak. A failed save will mean that you vote to investigate. A succesful save means that whatever it is, you'd rather let sleeping dogs lie and will vote againgt this particular exploit.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Arcana: 23
Wisdom: 0
Violet is enthusiastic as she wakes everybody. "Look over there. Mysterious unnatural lights moving about. We should descry their origin. Maybe it's even the fey that Pict is searching for."
Ok, you can't edit posts with rolls to preserve space.
The edited version included the failed Wisdom save of 9. And some text which I'll repeat below.
Violetenthusiasticly wakes everyone. "Look over there. Mysterious unnatural lights. We should descry their origin. Maybe it's even the fey Pict was searching for."
Crassus is not exactly pleased about being woken up in the middle of the night, but he does notice what Violet is pointing at. "It's definitely a good idea to see what's making those lights, whether it's the fey that Pict is searching for, or something nasty. Either way, I hope that I wasn't woken up for nothing."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
Pictsits up from his slumber, overhearing the rest of the group as they discuss their course of action. "Floating lights?" He frowns.
"Now, now, let's not be hasty. I'd like to find the Fey o' these woods as much as the next person, but I've never encountered a Fey what just sits just outside of reach like that."
He crinkles his brow, puzzled by his allies' insistence on exploring further. "Somethin' just don't feel natural about any of this, don't you think?"
If possible, I'd like to make a persuasion check to see if I can convince the party.
There's something off about the lights. There's lure to them that is almost hypnotic. So the two voices - of Pict and of reason were ignored. The party got ready, picked up their weapons and doned on the armor, leaving backpacks and most of the heavy possesions in camp. With a simple spell, Pict snuffed out the campfire.
Ever so carefully, the adventurers started moving in a general direction of the lights. Erlan and Pict go first, trying to remember the landmarks, by which they will be able to get back.
Here, Pict and Erlan can roll for survival against the DC of 15, Erlan rolls with advantage, because tracking is Rangers speciality.
Succesfull check means they will find their way back to the camp when (and, most importantly, if they return), failed check means everything that's left in camp will be lost forever. Right now, I've edited out 2 rations from each (because you had two meals). You will preserve all your active items regardless of the result, but that will have effect later in game.
The companions have walked to the point where they thought the lights were, but found nothing, except for trees and grass. Instead, the lights seemed to have distanced themselves. They were strange, very strange. As there was no source to them, just a reflection. At this point, everyone started to suspect something was amiss, especially the druid who continued his attempts to turn the party back, but to no avail. Their desire to follow the lights turned almost to fervor.
The chase continued on. Through the bushes, a hemlock grove, even the remains of someone elses camp (just a trace of a bonfire on the ground). To say the lights were elusive would be a monumental understatement. Every time the party got close enough to see, they just disappeared out of sight, only to be lit anew a few dozen feet away. Once, they got so close, that a few more steps into the clearing would end the chase, but mysterious lights have disappeared again. It is becoming very hard to say how much distance they've covered.
But everything ends eventually. The group has seemingly connered the lights against a large rock. The only thing separating Crassus (who stepped ahead) and a source of illumination was a thick bramble bush. Dragonborn got ready to push through it, when everyone heard a high, melodic voice.
"Proceed at your own peril," the voice said. None was able to tell where it's coming from. "You are either very brave or very stupid to go around the forest at night, chasing shadows."
The owner of the voice appeared from a tree. Not from behind a tree, literally from it. It was a young, beautiful woman. Almost a woman - fey origin was clear. Her greenish skin reflected the mystical light is a very curious manner, or, perhaps, it glowed on it's own. From her legs up to her waste the woman was covered in vines and twigs, creating some vague semblance of boots and pants. But most intriguing were her eyes, pitch-black with a glowing, emerald spark. None from the party, save for Pict, has ever encounered a dryad, but everyone was instantly sure that's what she was.
"Do not be angry at my glowing friends," she continued, as mystic light darted from behind the bush a rested itself in her palm. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be an unusually bright will-o'-wisp. "Most peaople believe them malevolent, but in truth, the are merely mischivous. And you, young dragon, were about to step into the wolf pit. Take greater care next time."
As she spoke, a couple more will-o'-wisps emerged, illuminating a small clearing where the dialogue took place.
"And you, druid," her tone was almost accusing at this point. "You knew full well that every creature that lives in the forest, be it fey, undead or beast, will not look kindly upon anyone, stepping under the shadow of it's branches."
She pauses and everyone has a chance to examine her closer. There's light buzzing in the tree crowns. Pixie? Sprite? Both?
The subtle power is practically radiating from the dryad, not just magic, but the command over the forest and creatures in it. Why else would the will-o'-wisps, who are the undead, heed her?
Talk to the dryad or you can choose to make an investigation check against DC of 20. You can do either one or the other. We'll proceed from there.
Crassus has no idea who or what he's speaking to, so he's going to leave this to Pict, who he believes is more equipped to handle this situation. But he will try and see if he can figure out what's going on with this strange woman.
.Investigation: 9
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
Crassus takes a good long look at the woman, but doesn't know what to make of her. She is unarmed, or so it seems. But surrounded by four will-o'-wisps and probably has magic. Dragonborn takes a deep breath in an attempt to pick up a smell, but the fey just smells of leaves and trees.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Pict attempts to remember the winding path the will-o-wisps lead them down.
Survival: 11
Pict is shocked, not just by the Dryad's appearance, but by her words as well.
"I know no such thing, Dryad. What changes have turned you so cold? And what is this mockery? Consorting with theUndead?You would degrade yourself and the balance of natural life by allowing these foul spirits to run amok!" His grip tightens around his quarterstaff, wrinkled knuckles turning white. The rest of the group can see his eyes, which are normally soft and playful, are blazing now with an angry intensity. "What has happened in these woods to cause this?"
If the dryad chooses to respond, Pict would like to make an Insight check to determine if she is being truthful.
"Of all people I'd expect you to understand..." says the dryad sadly. "'Tis not an abomination of any sort. These woods, my woods, have lived like this for as long as I can remember, and that's more time than the lot of you lived combined."
Dryad moves seemlessly across the clearing and sits herself on a large oak stump.
"We have existed like this for years, in an uneasy balance. My sisters and I do our best to maintain it. We realize, all things have a purpose and all things serve it. Even the undead you're so frightened of. The only ones who disturb are existence are mortals, such as yourself and your friends. They come to the forest with axes and bows, with fire," the last word she almost spat. "They take, they burn, they kill far beyond their needs. They kill simply to feel safe at night. I refuse to accept that. The undead of many kinds have made their home here. They kill too, but no more than forest beasts. They do their part to make it safe, even if not all of them know it. Why would I deny them my protection and refuse theirs?"
Pict is a wise man. In his years, he has learned to tell when others were lying to him, at least most of the time. But despite the outrageousness of the things she told, the dryad seemed to be telling the truth. Or, at the very least, believing she were.
Dryad shifted her eyes to Erlan, who stared at her intently. Ranger felt it in his gut that something was wrong. Actually, it was strange rather than wrong. Be he never could point out what.
"My, if gaze could burn I'd be a pile of ash right now. You can come closer, Wood-strider, have a look if you wish." She laughed and turned back to the druid. "And do not mistake my kindness for feebleness. If you were looking to find a a forest fairy surrounded by flowers and rainbows and with an insatiable desire to grant wishes, I'm afraid you will leave these woods severely disappointed."
Okay, it's Violets turnt now, then we continue.
Edit: Forgot to add DC for Insight check. It's 15. Check is succesfull, I added a paragraph describing result.
Erlan
I pull back my cloak to reveal my fey ancestry which has formed my features. "What is it you want to speak with the Fey about?" I start packing up the food I had been eating on into my pack.
PC: Brozznan Kane - Undead in Skyraker |
DM:
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Are you an Eladrin or another type of Elf? Pict would react differently depending on your answer
Just a wood elf.
PC: Brozznan Kane - Undead in Skyraker |
DM:
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"Well put, Crassus, well put." Pict replies, readjusting his vest and surveying the forest ahead. "It wouldn't do to remain here much longer. I imagine that what we all seek lies deeper in."
Upon hearing the elf's query and seeing his Fey features, Pict's expression turns blank for a moment, as if concerned with matters far away from this misty wood, but soon his eyes are sharp again. "Ah yes, one of the Fair Folk, indeed."
He finally states. "Your people do have a strong bond with the Fey, it's true, but I'm afraid this business only concerns your distant ancestors, my Elven friend. Were I to speak of it recklessly, I fear the repercussions."
He lowers his voice then, to just over a whisper. "I've seen them, you know: the Elves who walk the Wilds. Glorious creatures, but secretive. I've only caught the tiniest glimpse of them, or I might not think they were real myself. Truly wonderful."
With that, he steps away from Erlan entirely, gazing inwards to the rest of the Witchwood. The endless trees were familiar, but strange. He felt an unease as he considered the journey ahead, despite not knowing why. There was something in the air. An imbalance. He thought. He took a few steps deeper into the wild, once again using his quarterstaff as a walking stick, assuming the rest of the group was behind him.
Erlan
”Well I guess we’re getting a move on.” Hopefully this old man isn’t crazy. “Where do you hail from Pict?” I say to the old man. I follow slightly behind him off to the side.
PC: Brozznan Kane - Undead in Skyraker |
DM:
Popular Stream Character Sheets
Violet also follows trusting that Pict knows what he's doing. Both Crassus and Erlan will notice that Violet is more at ease moving through this unknown forest than socialising in the tavern. She's smiling a lot and seems to be enjoying this trip through this forest so far. She's not carefully pondering her steps. On the contrary even when tugged away in some kind of inner monologue she seems to instinctly avoids tripping over roots or entangling herself in bushes using her staff to brush aside branches.
With some kind implicitness she tugges away some edible berries from a nearby bush and starts to eat them, so she's either naive and lucky or at least somewhat knowledgeable. "Crassus, do you want to try some of these Halonberries? They tickle your tongue." offering some to the Dragonborn.
Violet will not interfere with Picts guidance, unless he makes something really stupid, so I'll check against my own judgement.
Nature: 17
Survival: 5
No one could get used to how quickly night fell in this forest. Suns last beams could not get through thick foliage and fir needles. But stopping right away just seemed like a waste.
The company continued their walk, illuminating the road with torches and fairy light the druid readily provided. Walking seemed easier as well – not that Pict did anything particular, the even where road was overgrown, the branches readily parted at the lightest touch, recognizing the priest of nature.
The forest itself changed in the dark. The night chill creeped between the trees and the thick heavy mist rose from the ground. The birds stopped singing at sunset and the oppressive silence was only interrupted by an occasional hoot of an owl.
Crassus and Violet were ill at ease – neither of them knew what to expect to come out of the hostile shadows. Ranger and druid knew full well how the woods changed after sundown and Crassus believed them, but Violet was harder to convince.
Whispers that she couldn’t make out in the morning now took form of constant warning humming. “Beware the shadows, feel our dread, look out for danger that waits ahead.” This simple, cheesy rhyme that first had her worried sick, but then, as nothing had decided to jump them from the nearest bush, it just became annoying.
It was well into the night when the party finally decided to stop. Violet took her chance to show off, using her magic to start a bonfire when the ranger was just reaching for tinderbox. Ranger rolled his eyes, but spotted a big smile on a woman’s face and decided to say nothing.
Supper gave everyone an unexpected surprise. The rations they bought two days ago began to dry out. They were still edible and provided sustenance, but tasted like a mouthful of sawdust. Looks like the old lady that sold these, had made them a few months ago, not days like she claimed.
Grumpy and unsatisfied, everyone undid their bedrolls and started preparing for the night. Everyone, except for Violet, who volunteered to take the first watch.
Half an hour had passed. There were still some time before she could rest, and hedge witch quickly got tired of sitting there, staring in the darkness. Voices either the danger had passed or the voices grew tired of speaking. She started to doze off a bit, when she noticed something strange in the distance.
Light. Not torches or mage fire, but a soft glow, warm and welcoming. The light did not move, but flickered hundred feet away. She could not tell it’s source and decided it was important enough to wake everyone up.
DM Price of Misfortune (finished)
Arcana: 23
Wisdom: 0
Violet is enthusiastic as she wakes everybody. "Look over there. Mysterious unnatural lights moving about. We should descry their origin. Maybe it's even the fey that Pict is searching for."
Wisdom: 3
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
More
Ok, you can't edit posts with rolls to preserve space.
The edited version included the failed Wisdom save of 9. And some text which I'll repeat below.
Violet enthusiasticly wakes everyone. "Look over there. Mysterious unnatural lights. We should descry their origin. Maybe it's even the fey Pict was searching for."
Wisdom: 6
Wisdom disadvantage: 3
"I have to agree with the magic user here. We do not what whatever that is to approach us from behind later in the journey."
PC: Brozznan Kane - Undead in Skyraker |
DM:
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Crassus is not exactly pleased about being woken up in the middle of the night, but he does notice what Violet is pointing at. "It's definitely a good idea to see what's making those lights, whether it's the fey that Pict is searching for, or something nasty. Either way, I hope that I wasn't woken up for nothing."
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
More
Pict sits up from his slumber, overhearing the rest of the group as they discuss their course of action. "Floating lights?" He frowns.
"Now, now, let's not be hasty. I'd like to find the Fey o' these woods as much as the next person, but I've never encountered a Fey what just sits just outside of reach like that."
He crinkles his brow, puzzled by his allies' insistence on exploring further. "Somethin' just don't feel natural about any of this, don't you think?"
There's something off about the lights. There's lure to them that is almost hypnotic. So the two voices - of Pict and of reason were ignored. The party got ready, picked up their weapons and doned on the armor, leaving backpacks and most of the heavy possesions in camp. With a simple spell, Pict snuffed out the campfire.
Ever so carefully, the adventurers started moving in a general direction of the lights. Erlan and Pict go first, trying to remember the landmarks, by which they will be able to get back.
Here, Pict and Erlan can roll for survival against the DC of 15, Erlan rolls with advantage, because tracking is Rangers speciality.
Succesfull check means they will find their way back to the camp when (and, most importantly, if they return), failed check means everything that's left in camp will be lost forever. Right now, I've edited out 2 rations from each (because you had two meals). You will preserve all your active items regardless of the result, but that will have effect later in game.
The companions have walked to the point where they thought the lights were, but found nothing, except for trees and grass. Instead, the lights seemed to have distanced themselves. They were strange, very strange. As there was no source to them, just a reflection. At this point, everyone started to suspect something was amiss, especially the druid who continued his attempts to turn the party back, but to no avail. Their desire to follow the lights turned almost to fervor.
The chase continued on. Through the bushes, a hemlock grove, even the remains of someone elses camp (just a trace of a bonfire on the ground). To say the lights were elusive would be a monumental understatement. Every time the party got close enough to see, they just disappeared out of sight, only to be lit anew a few dozen feet away. Once, they got so close, that a few more steps into the clearing would end the chase, but mysterious lights have disappeared again. It is becoming very hard to say how much distance they've covered.
But everything ends eventually. The group has seemingly connered the lights against a large rock. The only thing separating Crassus (who stepped ahead) and a source of illumination was a thick bramble bush. Dragonborn got ready to push through it, when everyone heard a high, melodic voice.
"Proceed at your own peril," the voice said. None was able to tell where it's coming from. "You are either very brave or very stupid to go around the forest at night, chasing shadows."
The owner of the voice appeared from a tree. Not from behind a tree, literally from it. It was a young, beautiful woman. Almost a woman - fey origin was clear. Her greenish skin reflected the mystical light is a very curious manner, or, perhaps, it glowed on it's own. From her legs up to her waste the woman was covered in vines and twigs, creating some vague semblance of boots and pants. But most intriguing were her eyes, pitch-black with a glowing, emerald spark. None from the party, save for Pict, has ever encounered a dryad, but everyone was instantly sure that's what she was.
"Do not be angry at my glowing friends," she continued, as mystic light darted from behind the bush a rested itself in her palm. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be an unusually bright will-o'-wisp. "Most peaople believe them malevolent, but in truth, the are merely mischivous. And you, young dragon, were about to step into the wolf pit. Take greater care next time."
As she spoke, a couple more will-o'-wisps emerged, illuminating a small clearing where the dialogue took place.
"And you, druid," her tone was almost accusing at this point. "You knew full well that every creature that lives in the forest, be it fey, undead or beast, will not look kindly upon anyone, stepping under the shadow of it's branches."
She pauses and everyone has a chance to examine her closer. There's light buzzing in the tree crowns. Pixie? Sprite? Both?
The subtle power is practically radiating from the dryad, not just magic, but the command over the forest and creatures in it. Why else would the will-o'-wisps, who are the undead, heed her?
Talk to the dryad or you can choose to make an investigation check against DC of 20. You can do either one or the other. We'll proceed from there.
DM Price of Misfortune (finished)
Crassus has no idea who or what he's speaking to, so he's going to leave this to Pict, who he believes is more equipped to handle this situation. But he will try and see if he can figure out what's going on with this strange woman.
.Investigation: 9
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
More
Crassus takes a good long look at the woman, but doesn't know what to make of her. She is unarmed, or so it seems. But surrounded by four will-o'-wisps and probably has magic. Dragonborn takes a deep breath in an attempt to pick up a smell, but the fey just smells of leaves and trees.
DM Price of Misfortune (finished)
Pict is shocked, not just by the Dryad's appearance, but by her words as well.
"I know no such thing, Dryad. What changes have turned you so cold? And what is this mockery? Consorting with the Undead? You would degrade yourself and the balance of natural life by allowing these foul spirits to run amok!" His grip tightens around his quarterstaff, wrinkled knuckles turning white. The rest of the group can see his eyes, which are normally soft and playful, are blazing now with an angry intensity. "What has happened in these woods to cause this?"
I move closer to the woman trying to investigate further. I remain behind the old druid man. I don't say anything for the time being.
PC: Brozznan Kane - Undead in Skyraker |
DM:
Popular Stream Character Sheets
"Of all people I'd expect you to understand..." says the dryad sadly. "'Tis not an abomination of any sort. These woods, my woods, have lived like this for as long as I can remember, and that's more time than the lot of you lived combined."
Dryad moves seemlessly across the clearing and sits herself on a large oak stump.
"We have existed like this for years, in an uneasy balance. My sisters and I do our best to maintain it. We realize, all things have a purpose and all things serve it. Even the undead you're so frightened of. The only ones who disturb are existence are mortals, such as yourself and your friends. They come to the forest with axes and bows, with fire," the last word she almost spat. "They take, they burn, they kill far beyond their needs. They kill simply to feel safe at night. I refuse to accept that. The undead of many kinds have made their home here. They kill too, but no more than forest beasts. They do their part to make it safe, even if not all of them know it. Why would I deny them my protection and refuse theirs?"
Pict is a wise man. In his years, he has learned to tell when others were lying to him, at least most of the time. But despite the outrageousness of the things she told, the dryad seemed to be telling the truth. Or, at the very least, believing she were.
Dryad shifted her eyes to Erlan, who stared at her intently. Ranger felt it in his gut that something was wrong. Actually, it was strange rather than wrong. Be he never could point out what.
"My, if gaze could burn I'd be a pile of ash right now. You can come closer, Wood-strider, have a look if you wish." She laughed and turned back to the druid. "And do not mistake my kindness for feebleness. If you were looking to find a a forest fairy surrounded by flowers and rainbows and with an insatiable desire to grant wishes, I'm afraid you will leave these woods severely disappointed."
DM Price of Misfortune (finished)