Pinkie pretends not to notice her gesture towards the bench, remaining perched on the desk.
”Yes we intend to bring them back to you. So any assistance you can provide would be most appreciated. Spare men, a map... anything. Has anyone made a recovery attempt?”
Saia accepted the invitation to sit but didn't seem surprised that the other two didn't join her. "Yes." She nodded along with Pinkie's response. "I assume people have tried poking around the area before, given the whole apple business. What are their stories?"
She stands up, clearly annoyed at Pinkie sitting on her desk. "And there are no warriors in this town save for the guard. If I send them to look for our friends, the town is left vulnerable. So no, a rescue attempt has not been made. And the only thing I can offer you is a map, let you fill your waterskins while you're here. If we had the resources to provide men or gear, we'd have hired mercenaries from Lorhust or Greenpeak by now."
Felosial rubs her temple and sighs. "Some have poked around in the past, yes. But most tend to stay away- you have to go through the barren lands northeast of here to get to the citadel. No one has actually gotten close, by choice. Until Talgen and Sharwyn, that is." With another sigh, taps her finger absentmindedly on the desk. "Talgen and Sharwyn's mother would likely reward you if you brought her children back, though. She's been offering to reimburse the guard if we send someone out- I wouldn't be shocked if she honored such an offer with you, if you succeed."
Braela pipes up from her corner “We’ll take that map and get out of your hair then.” She turns to Saia “No sense beating a dead horse if we know what direction we’re going” She takes a few steps towards the door and turns to wait for her companions
"How long would we be traveling through the barren lands, do you think?" That didn't sound like a place you want to get stuck with no food. "Is there a better place than the tavern to pick up rations?"
Saia gives Breala a nod, standing as well. "Should we bring our findings to you, or straight to the mother?"
Felosial sighs quietly, visibly relieved to wrap up the conversation. She pulls a map from her desk drawer and hands it to the first of the tree to extend their hand for it. "Garon can fix you up with rations just fine. I'd eat a good meal before you leave, or take something heavier to have as you first meal on the road. You'll be traveling just shy of a week, if the fair weather holds out. Longer, if the storms come back." She pauses, considering what she just said. "You might want to take a tent as well, there's not much out there to take shelter under. We had a modest gear shop near the gate you came in by, you can get other provisions there."
DM Says:
If any of you want to do some shopping, we don't have to drag that out. Just add a blurb about what you bought and make sure to deduct the correct amount of coin from your sheets. If you'd prefer to RP, we can do that, though.
Pinkie’s brow furrows as she holds a hand out in front of her, tucking her fingers into her palm one at a time as she takes a mental inventory. After a moment, her face smooths, satisfied with the final tally. She turns to her companions, “I’ve been on the road for quite some time. I have rations, but I am fairly accustomed to living off the land.. two weeks round trip? That will be nothing.” She smiles, a wee bit of pride shining through as she remembers her journey from home. Her smile begins to fade as she begins to realize how long a week can really be, especially when another’s life can depend on it.
“Ladies?” She bows clumsily, extending her hand towards the road leading out of town. “Shall we?”
Braela makes sure everyone has their necessary gear for the road and provisions. A sense of ease comes over her as they leave the relative bustle of Oakhurst behind and strike out again onto the quieter road. She habitually falls to the back of the group, both keeping an eye forward watch where they’re headed and keeping an eye behind to watch their backs.
After a quick stop to procure a tent other provisions, you leave Oakhurst via the Old Road. It is quickly evident that this road in no longer in use, and if it weren't for the sparseness of the vegetation in the area, the road would like have been swallowed up by now. Your first day passes without serious event, and you eventually find a spot suitable enough for camping. Overnight it is unusually silent. Even the crickets seem subdued. Still, morning arrives without trouble, and after a quick breakfast, you're on the road again.
Much of the week continues on like this- a dull day in a dull landscape, followed by an eerie yet uneventful night. You find yourselves grateful to have purchased extra provisions before leaving, as wild game and edible plants are at best sparse. Your last night before you estimate you should arrive at the Citadel, you sit huddled around the fire. A lone cricket chirps once then is silent for minutes before another solitary note in the dark. If it weren't for the light wind blowing, and the occasional creak of old, dry wood out in the dark, the silence would be deafening.
DM Says:
Welcome back! A little exposition opportunity for you all as you sit around the fire. Please also provide me with your Passive Perception score in your post.
Pinkie unceremoniously throws down her pack with a great THUNK. She kneels down beside and rummages through it, preparing to set up camp. She mumbles to herself in Orcish as her hands disappear into the pack, as she retrieves her tent, bedroll, rations. All of a sudden she stops, eyes wide, as she becomes acutely aware that the only sound of the forest is her. Her eyes rove to Braela and Saia and she flashes them an apologetic smile, which comes as more of a wince or a cringe.
She resumes the task at hand, only this time much quieter. She has been on trails long enough to know better to endanger herself by creating a ruckus... and now she has new friends to worry about as well. She shifts from a kneeling position to a sitting one, pack tucked snugly between her legs so she can get a clearer view from a more comfortable position. "I said," she clears her throat, but keeps her voice soft, "This is not good land." Rising, she pulls out her tent and begins the process of setting it up. "You can live off nothing, you know.... Unless you're here, I suppose."
Once she is happily arranged she turns her back to Saia and Braela, gazing out into the forest, fists planted firmly at her hips, eyes scanning floor to canopy for anything to eat. She calls over her shoulder, "Do you ladies fancy a game? In my village we played one... you tell three stories. We must guess which is false."
Pinkie secretly beams into the darkness -- there's only one thing she enjoys more than fighting... Winning.
As soon as her companions had picked a spot to camp, Saia began the process of ritual casting her alarm spell around the area. She left the spot picking to her companions, since they both seemed to have a better idea of what constituted 'safe' out here. But Saia did her best to listen to and follow their reasonings, hoping it was a skill she could learn as well. The silver string looped around the campsite and her friends' survival skills made her feel safe enough, but she had still made sure to pick up her own tent before they had set out. The trek to Oakhurst hadn't been overly pleasant without one.
"You did stock up on enough rations, just in case, right?" Saia asked Pinkie as she finished up her circle of silver before starting on her own tent. It was a simple enough little thing, but she still felt like a bumbling oaf putting it up when every slight ruffle of the canvas seemed so loud in the silence. Had she ever been in a place more quiet? It was nearly suffocating.
"I'm in!" Saia quickly to the suggestion of a game, eager to fill the deafening quiet. That and her family had plenty of outlandish tales that multiple sources had sworn were true. "Does it have to be stories specifically about you or....?" If it needed to be limited to her, it might be harder. Saia didn't think she'd done anything all that unbelievable. 'Still,' she thought as she took her chair from her pocket and unfolded it from it's playing card size, 'even if I lose, it will still be better than the quiet.'
“Yes, it must be about yourself. Here I’ll go first.” Pinkie throws a stray twig onto the fire and hums softly. “Let’s see... ah...”
She holds up three fingers and raises her eyes to the sky, avoiding eye contact with her companions so she doesn’t give any hints of which of her stories is false.
”My mother was a goblin... which is why my skin is so dark. And why I speak goblin, of course.” She tucks one finger into her palm before moving to the next.
“My father calls me Pinkie because he thinks I’m a big softie.” Another finger folds down.
”Aaaaaand...I always carry a piece of my family wherever I go. In a literal sense, not a figurative one.”
She puts the last finger down and turns her eyes to Saia and Braela, giving them a toothy smile. “Now you guess which is false.”
"Hmm..." Saia hummed holding her chin with one hand and elbow with the other as she examined Pinkie. "I feel like you'd be smaller if you were part goblin. So I'm going to say that. Braela?"
”I agree” replies Braela, sounding a bit distracted. She watched Saia put um her silver thread around the camp, but the spell’s barrier was far too close for her liking. She gazes out across the open landscape.
She winces ever so slightly when she realizes that her answer marked her participation. “Why don’t you go next Saia.”
Pinkie’s eyes twinkle impishly, “perhaps it was a very tall goblin?”
She pulls her hair over her shoulder and toys with the locs until she brings one to the surface - a braid of dark hair woven with a piece of flaxen blonde hair. “My dad said I was too soft... too human.” She draws the braid in front of her and smiles. “But not like my ma. She was a fierce warrior... they tried to make an alliance between their tribes. So we could all grow strong together...” She let’s the braid fall from her fingertips and tosses the locs back over her shoulder. “It didn’t work out too well I guess. I barely remember her... or the other humans. Some say they were more savage than any orc tribe. I believe there was bloodshed but most refuse to talk about it. The only thing to mark that time in history is me and a handful of other mutts.”
A hush falls over the group for a brief moment before she shakes her head to clear her thoughts. “So? Who’s next?”
"You can go through it." Saia says as she notices Braela eyeing the string she'd put up. "It just notifies me if someone who I haven't specified comes through it. You can still come and go as you please."
"Being 'soft' doesn't have to be a weakness, Pinkie." Saia says, gental. "It just means you find different ways to survive. And, I mean, plenty of humans are terrifying, if that's what you're wanting to go for."
Saia binked at her turn being thrust upon her. "Oh, me? Um..." What could she say? They both already knew about her telepathy, which would have been the best red herring for a lie.
One finger up. "I once helped to craft a masterwork sword."
Two fingers up. "I was born Under a solar eclipse during a supermoon."
Three fingers up. "I have met the Queen of Alvashay."
Pinkie pretends not to notice her gesture towards the bench, remaining perched on the desk.
”Yes we intend to bring them back to you. So any assistance you can provide would be most appreciated. Spare men, a map... anything. Has anyone made a recovery attempt?”
Saia accepted the invitation to sit but didn't seem surprised that the other two didn't join her. "Yes." She nodded along with Pinkie's response. "I assume people have tried poking around the area before, given the whole apple business. What are their stories?"
She stands up, clearly annoyed at Pinkie sitting on her desk. "And there are no warriors in this town save for the guard. If I send them to look for our friends, the town is left vulnerable. So no, a rescue attempt has not been made. And the only thing I can offer you is a map, let you fill your waterskins while you're here. If we had the resources to provide men or gear, we'd have hired mercenaries from Lorhust or Greenpeak by now."
Felosial rubs her temple and sighs. "Some have poked around in the past, yes. But most tend to stay away- you have to go through the barren lands northeast of here to get to the citadel. No one has actually gotten close, by choice. Until Talgen and Sharwyn, that is." With another sigh, taps her finger absentmindedly on the desk. "Talgen and Sharwyn's mother would likely reward you if you brought her children back, though. She's been offering to reimburse the guard if we send someone out- I wouldn't be shocked if she honored such an offer with you, if you succeed."
Wasteland Witchery: Gaming arts and crafts
Braela pipes up from her corner “We’ll take that map and get out of your hair then.” She turns to Saia “No sense beating a dead horse if we know what direction we’re going” She takes a few steps towards the door and turns to wait for her companions
"How long would we be traveling through the barren lands, do you think?" That didn't sound like a place you want to get stuck with no food. "Is there a better place than the tavern to pick up rations?"
Saia gives Breala a nod, standing as well. "Should we bring our findings to you, or straight to the mother?"
Felosial sighs quietly, visibly relieved to wrap up the conversation. She pulls a map from her desk drawer and hands it to the first of the tree to extend their hand for it. "Garon can fix you up with rations just fine. I'd eat a good meal before you leave, or take something heavier to have as you first meal on the road. You'll be traveling just shy of a week, if the fair weather holds out. Longer, if the storms come back." She pauses, considering what she just said. "You might want to take a tent as well, there's not much out there to take shelter under. We had a modest gear shop near the gate you came in by, you can get other provisions there."
DM Says:
If any of you want to do some shopping, we don't have to drag that out. Just add a blurb about what you bought and make sure to deduct the correct amount of coin from your sheets. If you'd prefer to RP, we can do that, though.
Wasteland Witchery: Gaming arts and crafts
Pinkie’s brow furrows as she holds a hand out in front of her, tucking her fingers into her palm one at a time as she takes a mental inventory. After a moment, her face smooths, satisfied with the final tally. She turns to her companions, “I’ve been on the road for quite some time. I have rations, but I am fairly accustomed to living off the land.. two weeks round trip? That will be nothing.” She smiles, a wee bit of pride shining through as she remembers her journey from home. Her smile begins to fade as she begins to realize how long a week can really be, especially when another’s life can depend on it.
“Ladies?” She bows clumsily, extending her hand towards the road leading out of town. “Shall we?”
Braela makes sure everyone has their necessary gear for the road and provisions. A sense of ease comes over her as they leave the relative bustle of Oakhurst behind and strike out again onto the quieter road. She habitually falls to the back of the group, both keeping an eye forward watch where they’re headed and keeping an eye behind to watch their backs.
After a quick stop to procure a tent other provisions, you leave Oakhurst via the Old Road. It is quickly evident that this road in no longer in use, and if it weren't for the sparseness of the vegetation in the area, the road would like have been swallowed up by now. Your first day passes without serious event, and you eventually find a spot suitable enough for camping. Overnight it is unusually silent. Even the crickets seem subdued. Still, morning arrives without trouble, and after a quick breakfast, you're on the road again.
Much of the week continues on like this- a dull day in a dull landscape, followed by an eerie yet uneventful night. You find yourselves grateful to have purchased extra provisions before leaving, as wild game and edible plants are at best sparse. Your last night before you estimate you should arrive at the Citadel, you sit huddled around the fire. A lone cricket chirps once then is silent for minutes before another solitary note in the dark. If it weren't for the light wind blowing, and the occasional creak of old, dry wood out in the dark, the silence would be deafening.
DM Says:
Welcome back! A little exposition opportunity for you all as you sit around the fire. Please also provide me with your Passive Perception score in your post.
Wasteland Witchery: Gaming arts and crafts
Passive Perception - 10
Pinkie unceremoniously throws down her pack with a great THUNK. She kneels down beside and rummages through it, preparing to set up camp. She mumbles to herself in Orcish as her hands disappear into the pack, as she retrieves her tent, bedroll, rations. All of a sudden she stops, eyes wide, as she becomes acutely aware that the only sound of the forest is her. Her eyes rove to Braela and Saia and she flashes them an apologetic smile, which comes as more of a wince or a cringe.
She resumes the task at hand, only this time much quieter. She has been on trails long enough to know better to endanger herself by creating a ruckus... and now she has new friends to worry about as well. She shifts from a kneeling position to a sitting one, pack tucked snugly between her legs so she can get a clearer view from a more comfortable position. "I said," she clears her throat, but keeps her voice soft, "This is not good land." Rising, she pulls out her tent and begins the process of setting it up. "You can live off nothing, you know.... Unless you're here, I suppose."
Once she is happily arranged she turns her back to Saia and Braela, gazing out into the forest, fists planted firmly at her hips, eyes scanning floor to canopy for anything to eat. She calls over her shoulder, "Do you ladies fancy a game? In my village we played one... you tell three stories. We must guess which is false."
Pinkie secretly beams into the darkness -- there's only one thing she enjoys more than fighting... Winning.
Passive Perception: 10
As soon as her companions had picked a spot to camp, Saia began the process of ritual casting her alarm spell around the area. She left the spot picking to her companions, since they both seemed to have a better idea of what constituted 'safe' out here. But Saia did her best to listen to and follow their reasonings, hoping it was a skill she could learn as well. The silver string looped around the campsite and her friends' survival skills made her feel safe enough, but she had still made sure to pick up her own tent before they had set out. The trek to Oakhurst hadn't been overly pleasant without one.
"You did stock up on enough rations, just in case, right?" Saia asked Pinkie as she finished up her circle of silver before starting on her own tent. It was a simple enough little thing, but she still felt like a bumbling oaf putting it up when every slight ruffle of the canvas seemed so loud in the silence. Had she ever been in a place more quiet? It was nearly suffocating.
"I'm in!" Saia quickly to the suggestion of a game, eager to fill the deafening quiet. That and her family had plenty of outlandish tales that multiple sources had sworn were true. "Does it have to be stories specifically about you or....?" If it needed to be limited to her, it might be harder. Saia didn't think she'd done anything all that unbelievable. 'Still,' she thought as she took her chair from her pocket and unfolded it from it's playing card size, 'even if I lose, it will still be better than the quiet.'
“Yes, it must be about yourself. Here I’ll go first.” Pinkie throws a stray twig onto the fire and hums softly. “Let’s see... ah...”
She holds up three fingers and raises her eyes to the sky, avoiding eye contact with her companions so she doesn’t give any hints of which of her stories is false.
”My mother was a goblin... which is why my skin is so dark. And why I speak goblin, of course.” She tucks one finger into her palm before moving to the next.
“My father calls me Pinkie because he thinks I’m a big softie.” Another finger folds down.
”Aaaaaand...I always carry a piece of my family wherever I go. In a literal sense, not a figurative one.”
She puts the last finger down and turns her eyes to Saia and Braela, giving them a toothy smile. “Now you guess which is false.”
"Hmm..." Saia hummed holding her chin with one hand and elbow with the other as she examined Pinkie. "I feel like you'd be smaller if you were part goblin. So I'm going to say that. Braela?"
Passive perception - 13
”I agree” replies Braela, sounding a bit distracted. She watched Saia put um her silver thread around the camp, but the spell’s barrier was far too close for her liking. She gazes out across the open landscape.
She winces ever so slightly when she realizes that her answer marked her participation. “Why don’t you go next Saia.”
Pinkie’s eyes twinkle impishly, “perhaps it was a very tall goblin?”
She pulls her hair over her shoulder and toys with the locs until she brings one to the surface - a braid of dark hair woven with a piece of flaxen blonde hair. “My dad said I was too soft... too human.” She draws the braid in front of her and smiles. “But not like my ma. She was a fierce warrior... they tried to make an alliance between their tribes. So we could all grow strong together...” She let’s the braid fall from her fingertips and tosses the locs back over her shoulder. “It didn’t work out too well I guess. I barely remember her... or the other humans. Some say they were more savage than any orc tribe. I believe there was bloodshed but most refuse to talk about it. The only thing to mark that time in history is me and a handful of other mutts.”
A hush falls over the group for a brief moment before she shakes her head to clear her thoughts. “So? Who’s next?”
"You can go through it." Saia says as she notices Braela eyeing the string she'd put up. "It just notifies me if someone who I haven't specified comes through it. You can still come and go as you please."
"Being 'soft' doesn't have to be a weakness, Pinkie." Saia says, gental. "It just means you find different ways to survive. And, I mean, plenty of humans are terrifying, if that's what you're wanting to go for."
Saia binked at her turn being thrust upon her. "Oh, me? Um..." What could she say? They both already knew about her telepathy, which would have been the best red herring for a lie.
One finger up. "I once helped to craft a masterwork sword."
Two fingers up. "I was born Under a solar eclipse during a supermoon."
Three fingers up. "I have met the Queen of Alvashay."
<reserved for in person game notes>
Wasteland Witchery: Gaming arts and crafts