"Hmm,"mutters the bard, pulling the pin out of his boot and sticking it in a beltpouch. "All right, guess that was not much help. Off we go then, to save the screamers. Or slaughter them, depending."
Argyle came back, blades sheathed, and listened as the options were brought up. He turned to Valor. "You did say you wanted to prioritize speed, yes? Then it sounds like that broader worn path is the better option."
Valor nods at Argyle, preparing his sword and shield, "Looks like our decision is made. On towards the path. Hopefully, it's not a trap, but if there's someone who needs help, they'll have my shield."
Thatch hurries along the broad path with the others, moving to make out the source of the screams and keeping his eyes alert for any threats. Perception: 14.
As they travel, he stays near the edge of the path and moves deliberately, seeking a spot to slip into the brush and hide if trouble breaks out. Stealth: 26.
Morseth follows the others "I hope we aren't too late to help"
As the group hurriedly ascends the path becomes a crude stairway carved into the chalk.
The hillside is clear of trees, but covered in black, foetid bracken which grows as tall as a man. Looking back, you can see Maiden’s Vale far below. At the upper edge of the clearing the path meets another, running north and south, that disappears back into dense woodland.
A white figure appears at the junction above you: a woman dressed in white samite and adorned with silver jewellery. Her garments undulate, as if blown by a different wind, and her bare feet hover above the ground. She turns towards you and her eyes are black orbs.
Behind her are stumbling, mud-soaked figures, among them a young knight who can only be Sir Olvar. His eyes are locked in adoration upon the ghostly form.
The White Lady stretches her mouth in a feral hiss. The ground trembles as a thick mist roils up to encompass them. She turns and leads the men away along the northern path disappearing into the mist.....
Tana freezes mid-step as the group locks eyes with the White Lady herself. Her gaze darts from those inky black orbs to the individuals following the Lady like love-sick puppies.
"There!" She quickly points out Sir Olvar just before the figures vanish into the mist. "That must have been Sir Olvar."
Swiftly brushing strands of ivory hair out of her face, Tana takes a few steps into the mist to try and discern where the figures stumbled off to. She turns back to the party after a sweeping her gaze around. "What shall we do now?"
Syr Valor steps forward, and cries "Olvar!" But the mist has already swallowed them up.
He looks to his companions. "It's definitely a trap, but one we must spring anyways. Stay close, this reeks of fae trickery. If any of you are religious, now is the time to offer up a prayer." He suits his own words offering up a silent prayer for protection.
He bangs the pommel of his sword on his shield twice, "For the people of Maiden's Vale, let us put an end to this witch's tyranny!"
Valor steps forward to lead the way into the mist.
"Val..." the bard calls out as they prepare to charge after the apparition, "Good courage to you, and to you all. Be she witch or spirit or fae, no doubt a blade betwixt her shoulders will ruin her day!"
The companions stride into the mists it is hard to make out much in the fog but a number of the companions are able to stay on the path and Tana keeps track of the muddy footprints of Fhionns devoted followers....
The mist lifts slightly as the path splits to pass either side of an ancient oak tree, its height stunted by a lightning strike. It has a hole in the side with a curtain of ferns over it. As you watch, the curtain pulls back revealing a sort of puppet booth. Puppets made of pine-cones and straw begin to cavort on the stage. You realise after a moment that they look remarkably like you!
The collection of wooden puppets trudges across the stage, the one looking like Tana sniffing the ground occasionally while Valors likeness waves his sword about erratically causing the other puppets to duck...
( Everyone make a Wisdom Save DC 14. If you fail you notice no change, though if you try to move your feet are rooted to the spot and for some reason you have a mild compulsion to see the puppet play to its conclusion. If you suceed you shake your head as if slightly dazed and are unaffected.)
“The White Lady. The stories are true. Did you see, her feet wasn’t even touching the ground!”Thatch exclaimed as the lady and her followers moved out of sight. Still, he swallowed his fear and bravely followed the others into the mist. He stopped briefly at the oak tree, distracted by what appeared to be a puppet show, but shook his head and moved on. He tried to pull Morseth along with him “Come on, it is fae tricks, that’s all. It not be real.”
"What...?" started Argyle as he shook his head, then shrugged off the effect trying to take hold of him. Having resisted, he looked directly at the image with a mixture of confusion and irritation. "By the gods, what is this nonsense?"
Hotspur manages to avoid the compulsion, but still takes a moment to appreciate the engaging puppetry. "Hey Argyle, you have to admit, it's a pretty good likeness of you, right down to the perpetual frown."
As the companions proved extremely resistant to the dweomer there was an angry chittering from the hollow oak and a, somewhat familiar looking, scrawny squirrel streaked up the inside of the tree and out along a branch, squeaking furiously. It attempted to jump from tree to tree to make its getaway....
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As the group hurriedly ascends the path becomes a crude stairway carved into the chalk.
The hillside is clear of trees, but covered in black, foetid bracken which grows as tall as a man. Looking back, you can see Maiden’s Vale far below. At the upper edge of the clearing the path meets another, running north and south, that disappears back into dense woodland.
A white figure appears at the junction above you: a woman dressed in white samite and adorned with silver jewellery. Her garments undulate, as if blown by a different wind, and her bare feet hover above the ground. She turns towards you and her eyes are black orbs.
Behind her are stumbling, mud-soaked figures, among them a young knight who can only be Sir Olvar. His eyes are locked in adoration upon the ghostly form.
The White Lady stretches her mouth in a feral hiss. The ground trembles as a thick mist roils up to encompass them. She turns and leads the men away along the northern path disappearing into the mist.....
Tana freezes mid-step as the group locks eyes with the White Lady herself. Her gaze darts from those inky black orbs to the individuals following the Lady like love-sick puppies.
"There!" She quickly points out Sir Olvar just before the figures vanish into the mist. "That must have been Sir Olvar."
Swiftly brushing strands of ivory hair out of her face, Tana takes a few steps into the mist to try and discern where the figures stumbled off to. She turns back to the party after a sweeping her gaze around. "What shall we do now?"
(Perception: 18 / Survival (For muddy footprint tracking): 22)
Noire Havensong | Harengon Archfey Warlock 6/Lore Bard 4 | Westmarch - Guild of the Phoenix (Discord)
Tanatari Crelieu | Kalashtar Druid 2 | Damian_May's Sleeping Gods
Jynx Starrkeep | Changling GOO Warlock 2 | Astien's Tyranny of Dragons
DM | Eberron Eternal (Discord)
"This is what we came to do. I say follow cautiously in case they are leading us into a trap." says Morseth
Syr Valor steps forward, and cries "Olvar!" But the mist has already swallowed them up.
He looks to his companions. "It's definitely a trap, but one we must spring anyways. Stay close, this reeks of fae trickery. If any of you are religious, now is the time to offer up a prayer." He suits his own words offering up a silent prayer for protection.
He bangs the pommel of his sword on his shield twice, "For the people of Maiden's Vale, let us put an end to this witch's tyranny!"
Valor steps forward to lead the way into the mist.
**By the Light of the Sun, you will burn!**
Previously BENEFICENCE
DM: Storm Lord's Wrath || Syr Valor Dayne: Sleeping Gods || tooltips | guides | dice |
Morseth follows keeping an eye out for trouble
perception
14
"Hear, hear!" cried Argyle at his master's rally. He quickly followed Valor into the mist, doing his best to remain alert.
(( Perception Check: 13 ))
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
"Val..." the bard calls out as they prepare to charge after the apparition, "Good courage to you, and to you all. Be she witch or spirit or fae, no doubt a blade betwixt her shoulders will ruin her day!"
(Bardic Inspiration die to Valor).
The companions stride into the mists it is hard to make out much in the fog but a number of the companions are able to stay on the path and Tana keeps track of the muddy footprints of Fhionns devoted followers....
The mist lifts slightly as the path splits to pass either side of an ancient oak tree, its height stunted by a lightning strike. It has a hole in the side with a curtain of ferns over it. As you watch, the curtain pulls back revealing a sort of puppet booth. Puppets made of pine-cones and straw begin to cavort on the stage. You realise after a moment that they look remarkably like you!
The collection of wooden puppets trudges across the stage, the one looking like Tana sniffing the ground occasionally while Valors likeness waves his sword about erratically causing the other puppets to duck...
( Everyone make a Wisdom Save DC 14. If you fail you notice no change, though if you try to move your feet are rooted to the spot and for some reason you have a mild compulsion to see the puppet play to its conclusion. If you suceed you shake your head as if slightly dazed and are unaffected.)
Morseth Wis Save
12
Hotspur WIS Save 20
"What by gods is this puppet show. I am stuck. Help please" says Morseth
Tana WIS Save: 16
Noire Havensong | Harengon Archfey Warlock 6/Lore Bard 4 | Westmarch - Guild of the Phoenix (Discord)
Tanatari Crelieu | Kalashtar Druid 2 | Damian_May's Sleeping Gods
Jynx Starrkeep | Changling GOO Warlock 2 | Astien's Tyranny of Dragons
DM | Eberron Eternal (Discord)
Thatch WIS save: 15.
“The White Lady. The stories are true. Did you see, her feet wasn’t even touching the ground!” Thatch exclaimed as the lady and her followers moved out of sight. Still, he swallowed his fear and bravely followed the others into the mist. He stopped briefly at the oak tree, distracted by what appeared to be a puppet show, but shook his head and moved on. He tried to pull Morseth along with him “Come on, it is fae tricks, that’s all. It not be real.”
Morseth gets pulled "Thanks. I thought I would be stuck there"
(( Argyle's WIS Save: 19 ))
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
"What...?" started Argyle as he shook his head, then shrugged off the effect trying to take hold of him. Having resisted, he looked directly at the image with a mixture of confusion and irritation. "By the gods, what is this nonsense?"
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
Hotspur manages to avoid the compulsion, but still takes a moment to appreciate the engaging puppetry. "Hey Argyle, you have to admit, it's a pretty good likeness of you, right down to the perpetual frown."
Valor Wisdom save: 16
**By the Light of the Sun, you will burn!**
Previously BENEFICENCE
DM: Storm Lord's Wrath || Syr Valor Dayne: Sleeping Gods || tooltips | guides | dice |
As the companions proved extremely resistant to the dweomer there was an angry chittering from the hollow oak and a, somewhat familiar looking, scrawny squirrel streaked up the inside of the tree and out along a branch, squeaking furiously. It attempted to jump from tree to tree to make its getaway....