"I've had to fell trees to make barricades more than once," Phevari muses. "Don't recall ever feeling like burning them would help." She wants nothing more than to take the other path, away from the smoke and all it implies, but she forces herself to turn to the sheriff. "One time, my unit was sent to reinforce a border fort that was under attack. It was the better part of a day's march from our position. Halfway there, we got word that another fort was also under attack. Our captain ordered us to ignore the second message and stay on our original mission. By the time we got there, everyone was long dead. So we turned back to the second fort. When we got to that one, they were all dead too, but recently. If we'd gone there first, maybe we'd have been in time."
"The halfling scrunches his face up as he processes the story. "So what you're also saying, is that being late to these things isn't necessarily a bad thing, as you're more like to survive yourself?"
"I— what? No, I—" Phevari protests. He's not wrong though, the voice in the back of her head, the one she's been trying to drown, comments. Aren't you just leading people into danger again?
Frankly, Jamem was stuck on what to say. It was pretty obvious both locations had people in danger, but that story brought a frustrating realization to his mind. If they went to one, the people at the other could all die. But then he had a thought, one that, while obviously unsavory, probably represented the best course of action. "Its taken us a long time to get here, and I imagine that those bandits or whatever had already got what they wanted. I say we go to the lumber mill and try and help them there, then we could go to the farms. We should be able to look for clues as to where the bandits went if we go there second, and possibly find out what they were after." But there was another matter here. How could they deal with a fire? "None have happened to bring water buckets with us, I don't suppose?". Sure they could go over there, but they had no real way of stopping the fire if they did, or at least he assumed. He couldn't tell if the magical dwarf, Tygven was it, could supply enough water or ice to put out a fire causing that much smoke.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Honor is a fools prize. Glory is of no use to the dead" Game/Dungeon Mastering in: Star Wars Dawn of Defiance Playing in: Three Sisters (The DM is currently MIA) "Everybody gets a nasty surprise one day. I'd rather take it standing up than when I'm laying down"
Tanglar has not stopped giving a constant narrative of what his familiar sees, right up until the connection begins to fade. ‘Go forth please Nibs, see what’s happening there and report back’ He crawls his own senses back down beside he arcane tether and back into his own form. Shaking his head, he blinks a few times to clear the disjunction that comes with the switch. “I’m back to my own senses now.” Turning to his guide as he lets go, “Thank you for guiding me true.” Turning back to the group, he asks, “What’s the plan? I will have a better idea of what is going on as the Raven flies.”
"If cowardice is so easily your answer, perhaps you should have stayed in town." Sheriff Hagenauer chides the halfling, giving Phevari a knowing glance. "She's right. As much as I hate to say it, the farm was attacked before sunrise, it's after mid-day now. If there were survivors, they should be able to last a couple hours more..." Henry continues speaking, laying out the plans for a vote, but his voice is overshadowed in Tanglar's mind by the return of his familiar. At once as Nibs crosses the threshold of their mental link Tanglar is bombarded by a mixture of sensations: not current, but past memories that Nibs shares over their telepathic bridge. The scent of burning flesh. The image of a man mid-stride, wielding an axe. The scarlet hue of drying blood. A dog, lying on its side, motionless. Though these images and sensations are alarming, Nibs portrays no sense of alarm. Though the camp had most definitely been attacked, it would seem that the bloodshed has subsided.
The halfling feigns offence at the sheriff’s suggestion, his mouth agape like that of a fish. “I am shocked and appalled that you would think such things! Is it wrong to wish for your own survival? Perhaps the captain in Phevari’s tale thought this, his decision deliberate, resulting in him saving the lives of his reinforcements?“
"Hmph," Phevari grumbles in reply to Otto, "saving his own life, maybe. Don't think he ever gave a second thought to the rest of us. Or a first one, come to that. Scuttlebutt was, his parents only bought his commission to get rid of him, after they caught him embezzling from the family business."
Assuming Tanglar tells the rest of us what Nibs saw: She nods in thanks for Tanglar's reconnaissance. "Well, if your, uh, friend, is sure there's no one that can still be helped at the logging camp, that changes things. We still need to check both places for any intel on who the attackers are and what they want, but if they keep moving in the same direction and we go to the logging camp first, we'd have to go the other way to the farm and then double back to follow them."
"Seems like these bandits are just making a day of it. If they keep heading that direction," Tygven says to the Sheriff, pointing towards the logging camp, "where's the next honey hole they might come across..? Since it sounds like we're too late for those at this logging camp as well,"he adds with a grim tone.
Jamem practically froze up after hearing the vivid description of the... slaughter at the logging camp. He never thought he'd see anything like this when he first realized his dream of adventuring, or in any other venture he took to try and win his Lady's hand. "I... know a healing spell, so I can help the survivors. As for the dead...". His voice dragged on. Jamem's tone had changed, a bit less determined than before, and definitely slower. Being the least experienced in the group, how much it unsettled him also made him out to be the youngest in the group, assumedly. "I may not know anything about them, but these are not bandits. At the very least they're not normal bandits". How exactly they could find them however, would be difficult. Maybe one of the few here had some exceptional tracking ability that they haven't unveiled yet.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Honor is a fools prize. Glory is of no use to the dead" Game/Dungeon Mastering in: Star Wars Dawn of Defiance Playing in: Three Sisters (The DM is currently MIA) "Everybody gets a nasty surprise one day. I'd rather take it standing up than when I'm laying down"
Tanglar stops suddenly, with an uncharacteristically rude interjection, "Wait!" He allows himself a moment to process the flood of images that cross over his mind. 'Thank-you Nibs.' He thinks up at his companion, 'Continue to keep a look out around us, near to the extent of our connection if you please. Thank-you." Turning back to his companions, he says, "I apologize for my outburst. My familiar returned, and I'm afraid I have grim news. It's hard to translate thought to words, so I'll give you a point form synopsis. People were burnt in the fire we can see in the distance. A man was wielding an axe. There is quite a bit of blood. Somebody killed a dog. It already happened, but I think we should go toward the camp, as that's the more recent tragedy. If we can put a stop to the attackers, then nobody else has to die today."
Phevari's frown deepens at the mention of the dog. "No, you're right, we need to stop these people as quickly as we can. We can figure out the 'why' later." Turning to Henry, she says, "Tygven's idea is good; if there's an obvious next target we should head straight there. Otherwise we can track them from the logging camp. Your orders, sir?"
Deputy Simms pipes up readily, as if he'd studied maps of the area, which in all likelihood he had. "There are camps and farms stretching all along the river from Havrever into the mountains. Even nearby, there are several. I just don't know why-" Sheriff Hagenauer raises a hand to cut him off, replying to Phevari and Tygven. "At this point it'd be a guess at best, we should head to that camp and see if we can't help them out, maybe there we'll learn more that could point us in the direction of these bandits." He doesn't wait for their reply this time, nodding to them and setting a quick pace in the direction of the camp.
(Unless anyone has more...)
The scene becomes clearer as they approach. Facing the road is a large gate splayed open, revealing the devastation within. There is a building near the entrance that serves as office and lodging for the camp masters, and a number of tents set up within the walls for the workers. Many of the tents have been crushed or knocked down, some are scorched where fire took them. In the center of the compound is a large bonfire made of several logs, it seems a number of animals have been thrown on top to burn. Other bodies, both human and animal, lay about camp including a large dog that appears to have died locked in combat with a horned stag. Injured workers lay near the building while others tend to their wounds. Those still able and not working on anything else slowly mill about, processing more wood for the fire, collecting bodies, and slowly piecing their camp back together.
Tanglar had never really been a people person, much preferring his books to the company of others. The sight of so much mayhem, and destruction shook him. Veering away from the others Tanglar takes a quick look around, specifically looking for evidence of the attackers, and which way they could have gone. If he can find a safe location he will quickly check in on the surroundings through Nibs eyes.
Tygven enters the camp and glances around at the carnage before the party. He tries to steal himself but the sights, and more importantly the smell of burning flesh catches him all wrong. He dashes to the edge of the camp, places a hand on the wall and his stomach retches its contents. "Damnit!" he quietly curses under his breath once the feeling subsides.
After taking a moment to compose himself and taking serval gulps from his waterskin, the dwarf then approaches one of the men chopping wood. "We saw the smoke and got here as fast as we could... What happened here?!"He conjures his watery appendage to assist the man as he chops - setting up unsplit logs on the block and holding them in place.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
As Phevari takes in the scene, the memory of a charred halfling face briefly threatens to overwhelm her. Seeing that there are actually survivors, though, she recovers her composure and hurries over to the building, offering her field medic experience to the injured. Medicine: 24
While she works, she makes gentle enquires to the more conscious patients and the uninjured helpers, trying to find out what she can about their attackers. Investigation: 16
The halfling whistles merrily as he saunters through the camp, nodding in greeting to those he passes... those who aren't otherwise distracted, anyway. He comes to a stop by the dog and the stag, and scratches his chin as he tries to work out what in the Hells was going on here.
Unsure what I should roll here, so I'll roll Perception and Investigation, and you can pick one if you want.
"Come from the forest, they did." The axe-wielding man sighs, in a defeated, haggard tone. He looks Tygven up and down, and answers slowly, resting his weight on the haft of his tool. "Wild things." Comes a reply to Phevari, a witness many times over to the kind of devestation wrought by men. "Early this morning, there was a fog. Couldn't see nothin', but you could hear the gate open at some point." The axe-man continues, glancing at the hole in their palisade defences. To Phevari, one man mentions, "Didn't question it, didn't see it," as she checks the bandages on a rather odd wound, not made by blade nor bludgeon. "People come in and out, and we haven't had trouble in these parts." It is there, at the entrance, that Tanglar finds himself, searching for that quiet spot in the fairly open compound. A detail nearly escapes notice below his feet. "Beasts!" Announces the next patient with a pained cry, "Possessed by the hells. They charged through the fog and just started attacking." Meanwhile, the axe-man continues his account of the morning's events. "We fought back, of course. Some of us killed a couple badgers, a boar." Tanglar kneels in the entrance to camp. The ground here is packed hard by the daily comings and goings, but upon closer inspection... "I think there was a bear." Phevari's next patient coughs up, as Tanglar inspects the massive clawed imprint in the ground. With a disheartened sigh, one of the camp workers also tending to the injured adds, "Duke--our dog--got that stag over there, but..." as the halfling looks over the scene.The large guard-dog's teeth still clamp hard on the stag's neck, but on close inspection, it is clear that Duke was wounded during or before their struggle, and the dog died of his own wounds shortly after his prey.
Hope that wasn't too tricky to follow along. I tried to write it so that all the accounts from the differing people could be read as one with a shifting point of view. To keep things simple, here is all the evidence that you all collectively gathered.
Otto: The dog suffered many wounds, possibly from other assailants that survived the encounter. For future reference: Perception is standing back and looking at something. Investigation involves direct interaction, be that socially or physically. (Interviewing people, tapping on walls to find hollow spots, stuff like that)
Phevari: Your medicine helps several of the people, and you notice in the process that none of them were injured by people, but animals. Bites, claws, etc. You are also told as such by the people you interview with that stellar investigation.
Tanglar: With your investigation you confirm the ingress point being the gate. You can also be fairly confident that some of the animals fled, you found a large bear print but there is no accompanying carcass. It must have left at some point, but you couldn't find the trail.
Tygven and Phevari: For the narrative I rolled Phevari's investigation roll into Tygven's conversation with the worker. You both ascertain that there were none of these so-called brigands here, at least not taking part in the attack. *Someone* opened the gates and let the animals in, but no one witnessed who.
Tygven glances around the camp and takes it all in - again - as the logger recounts the events. "That's quite the pile of animals that's burning.. Did y'all manage to to kill them all?" he asks scratching his bearded chin. "Or did something run the rest of them off?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
"I've had to fell trees to make barricades more than once," Phevari muses. "Don't recall ever feeling like burning them would help." She wants nothing more than to take the other path, away from the smoke and all it implies, but she forces herself to turn to the sheriff. "One time, my unit was sent to reinforce a border fort that was under attack. It was the better part of a day's march from our position. Halfway there, we got word that another fort was also under attack. Our captain ordered us to ignore the second message and stay on our original mission. By the time we got there, everyone was long dead. So we turned back to the second fort. When we got to that one, they were all dead too, but recently. If we'd gone there first, maybe we'd have been in time."
"The halfling scrunches his face up as he processes the story. "So what you're also saying, is that being late to these things isn't necessarily a bad thing, as you're more like to survive yourself?"
"I— what? No, I—" Phevari protests. He's not wrong though, the voice in the back of her head, the one she's been trying to drown, comments. Aren't you just leading people into danger again?
Frankly, Jamem was stuck on what to say. It was pretty obvious both locations had people in danger, but that story brought a frustrating realization to his mind. If they went to one, the people at the other could all die. But then he had a thought, one that, while obviously unsavory, probably represented the best course of action. "Its taken us a long time to get here, and I imagine that those bandits or whatever had already got what they wanted. I say we go to the lumber mill and try and help them there, then we could go to the farms. We should be able to look for clues as to where the bandits went if we go there second, and possibly find out what they were after." But there was another matter here. How could they deal with a fire? "None have happened to bring water buckets with us, I don't suppose?". Sure they could go over there, but they had no real way of stopping the fire if they did, or at least he assumed. He couldn't tell if the magical dwarf, Tygven was it, could supply enough water or ice to put out a fire causing that much smoke.
"Honor is a fools prize. Glory is of no use to the dead"
Game/Dungeon Mastering in:
Star Wars Dawn of Defiance
Playing in:
Three Sisters (The DM is currently MIA)
"Everybody gets a nasty surprise one day. I'd rather take it standing up than when I'm laying down"
Tanglar has not stopped giving a constant narrative of what his familiar sees, right up until the connection begins to fade. ‘Go forth please Nibs, see what’s happening there and report back’ He crawls his own senses back down beside he arcane tether and back into his own form. Shaking his head, he blinks a few times to clear the disjunction that comes with the switch. “I’m back to my own senses now.” Turning to his guide as he lets go, “Thank you for guiding me true.” Turning back to the group, he asks, “What’s the plan? I will have a better idea of what is going on as the Raven flies.”
"If cowardice is so easily your answer, perhaps you should have stayed in town." Sheriff Hagenauer chides the halfling, giving Phevari a knowing glance. "She's right. As much as I hate to say it, the farm was attacked before sunrise, it's after mid-day now. If there were survivors, they should be able to last a couple hours more..." Henry continues speaking, laying out the plans for a vote, but his voice is overshadowed in Tanglar's mind by the return of his familiar. At once as Nibs crosses the threshold of their mental link Tanglar is bombarded by a mixture of sensations: not current, but past memories that Nibs shares over their telepathic bridge. The scent of burning flesh. The image of a man mid-stride, wielding an axe. The scarlet hue of drying blood. A dog, lying on its side, motionless. Though these images and sensations are alarming, Nibs portrays no sense of alarm. Though the camp had most definitely been attacked, it would seem that the bloodshed has subsided.
The halfling feigns offence at the sheriff’s suggestion, his mouth agape like that of a fish. “I am shocked and appalled that you would think such things! Is it wrong to wish for your own survival? Perhaps the captain in Phevari’s tale thought this, his decision deliberate, resulting in him saving the lives of his reinforcements?“
"Hmph," Phevari grumbles in reply to Otto, "saving his own life, maybe. Don't think he ever gave a second thought to the rest of us. Or a first one, come to that. Scuttlebutt was, his parents only bought his commission to get rid of him, after they caught him embezzling from the family business."
Assuming Tanglar tells the rest of us what Nibs saw:
She nods in thanks for Tanglar's reconnaissance. "Well, if your, uh, friend, is sure there's no one that can still be helped at the logging camp, that changes things. We still need to check both places for any intel on who the attackers are and what they want, but if they keep moving in the same direction and we go to the logging camp first, we'd have to go the other way to the farm and then double back to follow them."
"Seems like these bandits are just making a day of it. If they keep heading that direction," Tygven says to the Sheriff, pointing towards the logging camp, "where's the next honey hole they might come across..? Since it sounds like we're too late for those at this logging camp as well," he adds with a grim tone.
Jamem practically froze up after hearing the vivid description of the... slaughter at the logging camp. He never thought he'd see anything like this when he first realized his dream of adventuring, or in any other venture he took to try and win his Lady's hand. "I... know a healing spell, so I can help the survivors. As for the dead...". His voice dragged on. Jamem's tone had changed, a bit less determined than before, and definitely slower. Being the least experienced in the group, how much it unsettled him also made him out to be the youngest in the group, assumedly. "I may not know anything about them, but these are not bandits. At the very least they're not normal bandits". How exactly they could find them however, would be difficult. Maybe one of the few here had some exceptional tracking ability that they haven't unveiled yet.
"Honor is a fools prize. Glory is of no use to the dead"
Game/Dungeon Mastering in:
Star Wars Dawn of Defiance
Playing in:
Three Sisters (The DM is currently MIA)
"Everybody gets a nasty surprise one day. I'd rather take it standing up than when I'm laying down"
Tanglar stops suddenly, with an uncharacteristically rude interjection, "Wait!" He allows himself a moment to process the flood of images that cross over his mind. 'Thank-you Nibs.' He thinks up at his companion, 'Continue to keep a look out around us, near to the extent of our connection if you please. Thank-you." Turning back to his companions, he says, "I apologize for my outburst. My familiar returned, and I'm afraid I have grim news. It's hard to translate thought to words, so I'll give you a point form synopsis. People were burnt in the fire we can see in the distance. A man was wielding an axe. There is quite a bit of blood. Somebody killed a dog. It already happened, but I think we should go toward the camp, as that's the more recent tragedy. If we can put a stop to the attackers, then nobody else has to die today."
Phevari's frown deepens at the mention of the dog. "No, you're right, we need to stop these people as quickly as we can. We can figure out the 'why' later." Turning to Henry, she says, "Tygven's idea is good; if there's an obvious next target we should head straight there. Otherwise we can track them from the logging camp. Your orders, sir?"
Deputy Simms pipes up readily, as if he'd studied maps of the area, which in all likelihood he had. "There are camps and farms stretching all along the river from Havrever into the mountains. Even nearby, there are several. I just don't know why-" Sheriff Hagenauer raises a hand to cut him off, replying to Phevari and Tygven. "At this point it'd be a guess at best, we should head to that camp and see if we can't help them out, maybe there we'll learn more that could point us in the direction of these bandits." He doesn't wait for their reply this time, nodding to them and setting a quick pace in the direction of the camp.
(Unless anyone has more...)
The scene becomes clearer as they approach. Facing the road is a large gate splayed open, revealing the devastation within. There is a building near the entrance that serves as office and lodging for the camp masters, and a number of tents set up within the walls for the workers. Many of the tents have been crushed or knocked down, some are scorched where fire took them. In the center of the compound is a large bonfire made of several logs, it seems a number of animals have been thrown on top to burn. Other bodies, both human and animal, lay about camp including a large dog that appears to have died locked in combat with a horned stag. Injured workers lay near the building while others tend to their wounds. Those still able and not working on anything else slowly mill about, processing more wood for the fire, collecting bodies, and slowly piecing their camp back together.
The halfling takes in the scene and gives a low whistle. "Well, at least there are survivors, so that's something..."
Tanglar had never really been a people person, much preferring his books to the company of others. The sight of so much mayhem, and destruction shook him. Veering away from the others Tanglar takes a quick look around, specifically looking for evidence of the attackers, and which way they could have gone. If he can find a safe location he will quickly check in on the surroundings through Nibs eyes.
Investigation: 20
Survival: 6
Tygven enters the camp and glances around at the carnage before the party. He tries to steal himself but the sights, and more importantly the smell of burning flesh catches him all wrong. He dashes to the edge of the camp, places a hand on the wall and his stomach retches its contents. "Damnit!" he quietly curses under his breath once the feeling subsides.
After taking a moment to compose himself and taking serval gulps from his waterskin, the dwarf then approaches one of the men chopping wood. "We saw the smoke and got here as fast as we could... What happened here?!" He conjures his watery appendage to assist the man as he chops - setting up unsplit logs on the block and holding them in place.
As Phevari takes in the scene, the memory of a charred halfling face briefly threatens to overwhelm her. Seeing that there are actually survivors, though, she recovers her composure and hurries over to the building, offering her field medic experience to the injured.
Medicine: 24
While she works, she makes gentle enquires to the more conscious patients and the uninjured helpers, trying to find out what she can about their attackers.
Investigation: 16
The halfling whistles merrily as he saunters through the camp, nodding in greeting to those he passes... those who aren't otherwise distracted, anyway. He comes to a stop by the dog and the stag, and scratches his chin as he tries to work out what in the Hells was going on here.
Unsure what I should roll here, so I'll roll Perception and Investigation, and you can pick one if you want.
Perception: 15
Investigation:10
"Come from the forest, they did." The axe-wielding man sighs, in a defeated, haggard tone. He looks Tygven up and down, and answers slowly, resting his weight on the haft of his tool. "Wild things." Comes a reply to Phevari, a witness many times over to the kind of devestation wrought by men. "Early this morning, there was a fog. Couldn't see nothin', but you could hear the gate open at some point." The axe-man continues, glancing at the hole in their palisade defences. To Phevari, one man mentions, "Didn't question it, didn't see it," as she checks the bandages on a rather odd wound, not made by blade nor bludgeon. "People come in and out, and we haven't had trouble in these parts." It is there, at the entrance, that Tanglar finds himself, searching for that quiet spot in the fairly open compound. A detail nearly escapes notice below his feet. "Beasts!" Announces the next patient with a pained cry, "Possessed by the hells. They charged through the fog and just started attacking." Meanwhile, the axe-man continues his account of the morning's events. "We fought back, of course. Some of us killed a couple badgers, a boar." Tanglar kneels in the entrance to camp. The ground here is packed hard by the daily comings and goings, but upon closer inspection... "I think there was a bear." Phevari's next patient coughs up, as Tanglar inspects the massive clawed imprint in the ground. With a disheartened sigh, one of the camp workers also tending to the injured adds, "Duke--our dog--got that stag over there, but..." as the halfling looks over the scene. The large guard-dog's teeth still clamp hard on the stag's neck, but on close inspection, it is clear that Duke was wounded during or before their struggle, and the dog died of his own wounds shortly after his prey.
Hope that wasn't too tricky to follow along. I tried to write it so that all the accounts from the differing people could be read as one with a shifting point of view. To keep things simple, here is all the evidence that you all collectively gathered.
Otto: The dog suffered many wounds, possibly from other assailants that survived the encounter. For future reference: Perception is standing back and looking at something. Investigation involves direct interaction, be that socially or physically. (Interviewing people, tapping on walls to find hollow spots, stuff like that)
Phevari: Your medicine helps several of the people, and you notice in the process that none of them were injured by people, but animals. Bites, claws, etc. You are also told as such by the people you interview with that stellar investigation.
Tanglar: With your investigation you confirm the ingress point being the gate. You can also be fairly confident that some of the animals fled, you found a large bear print but there is no accompanying carcass. It must have left at some point, but you couldn't find the trail.
Tygven and Phevari: For the narrative I rolled Phevari's investigation roll into Tygven's conversation with the worker. You both ascertain that there were none of these so-called brigands here, at least not taking part in the attack. *Someone* opened the gates and let the animals in, but no one witnessed who.
Tygven glances around the camp and takes it all in - again - as the logger recounts the events. "That's quite the pile of animals that's burning.. Did y'all manage to to kill them all?" he asks scratching his bearded chin. "Or did something run the rest of them off?"