"We were just on our way to the pub," quips Hotspur, "and thought we'd take a shortcut. But no, surely you can't be theMab, the charming enchantress we've heard so much about... Mab the Fabulous, Mab the Mysterious, Mab the Wise, Mab the Aid and Protector of intrepid adventurers on dark woodland paths? What a stroke of luck!..... I don't suppose you have anything to soothe our parched throats...?"
"We were just on our way to the pub," quips Hotspur, "and thought we'd take a shortcut. But no, surely you can't be theMab, the charming enchantress we've heard so much about... Mab the Fabulous, Mab the Mysterious, Mab the Wise, Mab the Aid and Protector of intrepid adventurers on dark woodland paths? What a stroke of luck!..... I don't suppose you have anything to soothe our parched throats...?"
The old woman fixed him with a look, " Oh, dear. Careful not to butter me too much youngster, I might slip through your fingers."
" The only libations I have are linaments and ungeants for colic and scabies."
" But your on a quest to save a babe and her da and possibly a village into the bargain if I'm not mistaken. And you don't have time to be wasting with drink."
" Now, I have wisdom. Will ye hear it before the sky gets too much lighter.", she said arching a bushy eyebrow to the window where the night sky could be seen to lighten slightly in the east.
" If you've any injuries I can likely take care of that."
Argyle turned to look out the window with alarm at the woman's words. She was right--it would be daybreak soon! They no longer had time to spare, if they wanted to get to the witch before she vanished.
"Please," said Argyle as he turned back, his face and voice a mixture of forced pleasantness and restrained hurry. "We will hear your wisdom."
Argyle turned to look out the window with alarm at the woman's words. She was right--it would be daybreak soon! They no longer had time to spare, if they wanted to get to the witch before she vanished.
"Please," said Argyle as he turned back, his face and voice a mixture of forced pleasantness and restrained hurry. "We will hear your wisdom."
" Aye, sit then. I'll talk fast, you'll listen well. You'll nae interrupt and you'll scarper when I tell ye."
She settled down on the floor near the central table with some alarming crackling sounds from her joints.
" This is Fhionns tale, though she would not tell it this way."
“Fhionn was born many years ago, long before Maiden’s Vale ever existed, when this region was home to two warrior clans. The daughter of a powerful chieftain, she enjoyed an easy life. With no one else of her age and standing to play with, she would often go alone into the forest, chatting with her imaginary friends as she went. There, one day, she found the remains of an ancient shrine, a crumbled ledge of white stone almost lost beneath tangled tree roots. In her innocence, she cleaned away the undergrowth to uncover the large bowl-like altar which stood at the centre. “
"As she grew Fhionn adopted the shrine as her own, and spent all her time there, playing at being a powerful priestess. A particular sigil, carved into the altar, became her own sign. She wore it on a necklace, and even scratched it into her arms. When she began to hear a voice whispering to her, she thought how lucky she was that she had found a shrine with the power to make her imaginary friend come to life. From then on, the voice guided Fhionn and advised her. It was not long before the clans-people noticed how confident, even headstrong, she was becoming. Everyone said what a fine wife she would make some day, for the time was fast approaching when she must do her duty and become wife to a young chieftain’s son from a neighbouring clan, assuring a peaceful truce for all."
“The marriage was a joyous affair, and Fhionn and her husband, whose name was Geraint, had a fine house beside her father’s hall. It was not long before Geraint became chieftain, and showed himself to be a wise leader. Those were happy times, and when the news came that Fhionn was expecting a child, there was great celebration. However, swept up in the richness of her new life, Fhionn neglected the old shrine. She no longer wore its sigil, and the marks on her arms healed and faded.”
“On the very day that a child was born to Fhionn and Geraint, a bloodthirsty warlord named Strabo led his warriors into this valley and laid siege to Fhionn’s village. Strabo paced outside the gates, demanding that Geraint come forward and do battle with him. Geraint was terribly afraid. He knew of Strabo’s savage reputation. None the less, just before dawn on the third day of the siege, he held his wife for the last time and kissed his child. Then he took up his sword and went out to meet Strabo. I would like to say the battle was a proud one, and that Geraint defeated Strabo. But that was not to be. Geraint was a lord of peace, while Strabo was a chieftain whose rule was forged in blood. Strabo slew the young man, and claimed the village as his own. “‘My patience is at an end. Open the gates and let us in, or we will burn this village to the ground!’ he roared. Seeing Geraint slain, the villagers lost all hope and opened the gates. Finally, Strabo and his warriors surrounded Fhionn’s hall. ‘Bring out the child. None can live to contest my rule!’ he cried. ‘Bring it to me, or we’ll burn this village and everyone in it!’”
“Of course, Fhionn would rather die than give up her child to this monster, but the villagers were sore afraid. They snatched the child from her arms. As the sun rose on the third day, the child was carried down the steps of the hall and given to Strabo."
“Fhionn never saw her child’s fate. In a frenzy of grief, she ran from the hall, out of the village and up into the forest. “As Strabo celebrated his victory, he looked up the wooded slopes to see a shrine, now clear of overgrowth, shining white amid the trees. Fhionn stood beside the altar stone, her face streaked with tears. In her hands were the branches and roots she had torn away, and on her arms were the sigils of the shrine, written in blood."
“No one knows what dark pact she made with the ancient power that ruled the shrine, but she must have asked for vengeance on Strabo and the cowardly villagers who had betrayed her. Flaming torches flared up all around her, and a great wind blasted the village. Fire tore through the houses, burning everything in its path. As the last house crumbled to ashes, Fhionn turned away. The ground opened up and swallowed Fhionn and the shrine, and the roots of the trees bound tight over her resting place."
“Since then, when the moon is full and a child has been born in the valley, the ground on the hill has broken open, revealing the shrine with its ghostly torches all aflame. And on the third day after the child’s birth, it has sickened and passed away, its soul stolen away by the jealous and vengeful White Lady.”
Hotspur listens enraptured, loving a good tale, and taking mental notes to be able to pass the story along, with a few embellishments, of course.
"Her power comes from the shrine then? And if we were to break the altar? Or is there another way to stop her cruel punishment of the villagers? Surely the blood-debt has been paid many times over by now..."
(OOC And why the heck didn't everybody just leave the valley and move someplace else?)
Hotspur listens enraptured, loving a good tale, and taking mental notes to be able to pass the story along, with a few embellishments, of course.
"Her power comes from the shrine then? And if we were to break the altar? Or is there another way to stop her cruel punishment of the villagers? Surely the blood-debt has been paid many times over by now..."
(OOC And why the heck didn't everybody just leave the valley and move someplace else?)
Old Mab focused on him, " Perhaps once it did, but her power is her own...or perhaps her masters now. I'm not sure if she can be reasoned with any more.....it has been eons since she drew breath."
Mab turned from Hotspur and pulls a sack from under a loose floorboard. With shaking hands she reveals an ancient sword. The blade is snapped and rusted. You can make out a strange sigil engraved on the sides of the blade. She hands it to Argyle:
“’This is the sword that took Geraint and the child. Show her this.’
She then takes off a leather necklace and hands it to Hotspur.
“’It won’t save you, but it might keep her back for a time,’ she murmurs.
Argyle slowly nodded as he took the blade. He wasn't sure how showing their opponent a blade would stop her, but he'd remember the old woman's words.
"She's definitely right," he said to the others while pointing out the window. "Time grows short for us!" After bowing to the old woman and thanking her for her tale, the bondsman strode outside first, then waited for Sir Valor to exit before speaking with him.
"Perhaps you should hold this sir; whatever authority it provides is likely better wielded by you."
Hotspur accepts the necklace, and bends down and kisses Mab on the cheek. "Mab the Fab, don't think you have got rid of me yet! You owe me a drink!"he says, laughingly, as he strides out the door after Argyle.
"Well, then," he says as he also delivers his gift to Valor, "Time's a-wastin'. We race against Apollo's chariot to save the babe, let us be off!"
Valor bows to the old lady with the same courtesy he would show a Lady in his father's court. "I thank you for your guidance, Lady. It is a shame that we must war against one who has suffered so much grief herself. I cannot blame her for her anger, but I cannot stand by while her grief takes innocent souls. I pray your help will allow us to put an end to this."
Valor exits the hut and examines the sword Argyle hands him. There was likely a reason Mab gave the sword to Argyle. On the other hand, he imagined the sword would bring the fury of the dark priestess upon whoever held it. He would not ask his bondsman to face a danger he would not also fear. "I will hold onto this for now. Perhaps it can provide a distraction and draw her attention to me." (What was Argyle given?)
He looks up, "But my cousin is right, we must away, with haste if we are to have any chance to succeed." He suits his actions to his words and moves.
From the far door of Old Mab’s cottage the lights of Lady Fhionn’s house are visible flickering through the trees. The path from here seems clear.
There is a sudden sound of a number of large forms crashing through the forest downhill towards the companions at speed....it will be moments before they arrive...
“Thank you, mother, for your wise words”Thatch gives a small bow, then hesitates, one hand going to the knot swelling on his forehead. “Um, you did mention something about taking care of injuries, I have quite the headache if you don’t mind.”
Thatch joins the others as they head up the trail. At the sound of approaching figures, he jumps to the side of the trail and attempts to hide. Stealth: 14.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Tana watches silently from behind the party as they interact with Old Mab, noting how curiously similar her own hut had looked to this one. She bowed her head respectfully at the older lady before exiting the home, taking a moment to glance about the area as the others gathered their things. Whilst focused on the lights of the Lady's house off in the distance, the crashing sounds from the nearby trees quickly startled Tana out of her trance. She too drops into a defensive position, moving to hide alongside Thatch, the beginnings of a spell crackling between her fingers.
“Thank you, mother, for your wise words”Thatch gives a small bow, then hesitates, one hand going to the knot swelling on his forehead. “Um, you did mention something about taking care of injuries, I have quite the headache if you don’t mind.”
Thatch joins the others as they head up the trail. At the sound of approaching figures, he jumps to the side of the trail and attempts to hide. Stealth: 14.
.
( Thatch finds his injuries have healed as he passes out of the strange house.)
Argyle drew both blades, and positioned himself front-and-center ahead of the others. "She sends distractions!" he scoffs as he adjusts his footing and gets into a stance.
The crashing sounds grew louder and then three huge shaggy forms burst forth from the treeline, large gaunt wolves with naked grey skinned heads and eyes and mouths wreathed in green flame they leapt at the companions.
( Get of Fengris Initiative: 21
Roll Initiative and post action if your initiative is greater than the Enemys. )
"We were just on our way to the pub," quips Hotspur, "and thought we'd take a shortcut. But no, surely you can't be the Mab, the charming enchantress we've heard so much about... Mab the Fabulous, Mab the Mysterious, Mab the Wise, Mab the Aid and Protector of intrepid adventurers on dark woodland paths? What a stroke of luck!..... I don't suppose you have anything to soothe our parched throats...?"
The old woman fixed him with a look, " Oh, dear. Careful not to butter me too much youngster, I might slip through your fingers."
" The only libations I have are linaments and ungeants for colic and scabies."
" But your on a quest to save a babe and her da and possibly a village into the bargain if I'm not mistaken. And you don't have time to be wasting with drink."
" Now, I have wisdom. Will ye hear it before the sky gets too much lighter.", she said arching a bushy eyebrow to the window where the night sky could be seen to lighten slightly in the east.
" If you've any injuries I can likely take care of that."
Argyle turned to look out the window with alarm at the woman's words. She was right--it would be daybreak soon! They no longer had time to spare, if they wanted to get to the witch before she vanished.
"Please," said Argyle as he turned back, his face and voice a mixture of forced pleasantness and restrained hurry. "We will hear your wisdom."
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
" Aye, sit then. I'll talk fast, you'll listen well. You'll nae interrupt and you'll scarper when I tell ye."
She settled down on the floor near the central table with some alarming crackling sounds from her joints.
" This is Fhionns tale, though she would not tell it this way."
“Fhionn was born many years ago, long before Maiden’s Vale ever existed, when this region was home to two warrior clans. The daughter of a powerful chieftain, she enjoyed an easy life. With no one else of her age and standing to play with, she would often go alone into the forest, chatting with her imaginary friends as she went. There, one day, she found the remains of an ancient shrine, a crumbled ledge of white stone almost lost beneath tangled tree roots. In her innocence, she cleaned away the undergrowth to uncover the large bowl-like altar which stood at the centre. “
"As she grew Fhionn adopted the shrine as her own, and spent all her time there, playing at being a powerful priestess. A particular sigil, carved into the altar, became her own sign. She wore it on a necklace, and even scratched it into her arms. When she began to hear a voice whispering to her, she thought how lucky she was that she had found a shrine with the power to make her imaginary friend come to life. From then on, the voice guided Fhionn and advised her. It was not long before the clans-people noticed how confident, even headstrong, she was becoming. Everyone said what a fine wife she would make some day, for the time was fast approaching when she must do her duty and become wife to a young chieftain’s son from a neighbouring clan, assuring a peaceful truce for all."
“The marriage was a joyous affair, and Fhionn and her husband, whose name was Geraint, had a fine house beside her father’s hall. It was not long before Geraint became chieftain, and showed himself to be a wise leader. Those were happy times, and when the news came that Fhionn was expecting a child, there was great celebration. However, swept up in the richness of her new life, Fhionn neglected the old shrine. She no longer wore its sigil, and the marks on her arms healed and faded.”
“On the very day that a child was born to Fhionn and Geraint, a bloodthirsty warlord named Strabo led his warriors into this valley and laid siege to Fhionn’s village. Strabo paced outside the gates, demanding that Geraint come forward and do battle with him. Geraint was terribly afraid. He knew of Strabo’s savage reputation. None the less, just before dawn on the third day of the siege, he held his wife for the last time and kissed his child. Then he took up his sword and went out to meet Strabo. I would like to say the battle was a proud one, and that Geraint defeated Strabo. But that was not to be. Geraint was a lord of peace, while Strabo was a chieftain whose rule was forged in blood. Strabo slew the young man, and claimed the village as his own. “‘My patience is at an end. Open the gates and let us in, or we will burn this village to the ground!’ he roared. Seeing Geraint slain, the villagers lost all hope and opened the gates. Finally, Strabo and his warriors surrounded Fhionn’s hall. ‘Bring out the child. None can live to contest my rule!’ he cried. ‘Bring it to me, or we’ll burn this village and everyone in it!’”
“Of course, Fhionn would rather die than give up her child to this monster, but the villagers were sore afraid. They snatched the child from her arms. As the sun rose on the third day, the child was carried down the steps of the hall and given to Strabo."
“Fhionn never saw her child’s fate. In a frenzy of grief, she ran from the hall, out of the village and up into the forest. “As Strabo celebrated his victory, he looked up the wooded slopes to see a shrine, now clear of overgrowth, shining white amid the trees. Fhionn stood beside the altar stone, her face streaked with tears. In her hands were the branches and roots she had torn away, and on her arms were the sigils of the shrine, written in blood."
“No one knows what dark pact she made with the ancient power that ruled the shrine, but she must have asked for vengeance on Strabo and the cowardly villagers who had betrayed her. Flaming torches flared up all around her, and a great wind blasted the village. Fire tore through the houses, burning everything in its path. As the last house crumbled to ashes, Fhionn turned away. The ground opened up and swallowed Fhionn and the shrine, and the roots of the trees bound tight over her resting place."
“Since then, when the moon is full and a child has been born in the valley, the ground on the hill has broken open, revealing the shrine with its ghostly torches all aflame. And on the third day after the child’s birth, it has sickened and passed away, its soul stolen away by the jealous and vengeful White Lady.”
Hotspur listens enraptured, loving a good tale, and taking mental notes to be able to pass the story along, with a few embellishments, of course.
"Her power comes from the shrine then? And if we were to break the altar? Or is there another way to stop her cruel punishment of the villagers? Surely the blood-debt has been paid many times over by now..."
(OOC And why the heck didn't everybody just leave the valley and move someplace else?)
Old Mab focused on him, " Perhaps once it did, but her power is her own...or perhaps her masters now. I'm not sure if she can be reasoned with any more.....it has been eons since she drew breath."
Mab turned from Hotspur and pulls a sack from under a loose floorboard. With shaking hands she reveals an ancient sword. The blade is snapped and rusted. You can make out a strange sigil engraved on the sides of the blade. She hands it to Argyle:
“’This is the sword that took Geraint and the child. Show her this.’
She then takes off a leather necklace and hands it to Hotspur.
“’It won’t save you, but it might keep her back for a time,’ she murmurs.
" Now go! You have little time!"
Argyle slowly nodded as he took the blade. He wasn't sure how showing their opponent a blade would stop her, but he'd remember the old woman's words.
"She's definitely right," he said to the others while pointing out the window. "Time grows short for us!" After bowing to the old woman and thanking her for her tale, the bondsman strode outside first, then waited for Sir Valor to exit before speaking with him.
"Perhaps you should hold this sir; whatever authority it provides is likely better wielded by you."
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 accepts the necklace, and bends down and kisses Mab on the cheek. "Mab the Fab, don't think you have got rid of me yet! You owe me a drink!" he says, laughingly, as he strides out the door after Argyle.
"Well, then," he says as he also delivers his gift to Valor, "Time's a-wastin'. We race against Apollo's chariot to save the babe, let us be off!"
"What a sad tale. Thank you Mab for aiding us" says Morseth. He the follows the others into the night
Valor bows to the old lady with the same courtesy he would show a Lady in his father's court. "I thank you for your guidance, Lady. It is a shame that we must war against one who has suffered so much grief herself. I cannot blame her for her anger, but I cannot stand by while her grief takes innocent souls. I pray your help will allow us to put an end to this."
Valor exits the hut and examines the sword Argyle hands him. There was likely a reason Mab gave the sword to Argyle. On the other hand, he imagined the sword would bring the fury of the dark priestess upon whoever held it. He would not ask his bondsman to face a danger he would not also fear. "I will hold onto this for now. Perhaps it can provide a distraction and draw her attention to me." (What was Argyle given?)
He looks up, "But my cousin is right, we must away, with haste if we are to have any chance to succeed." He suits his actions to his words and moves.
**By the Light of the Sun, you will burn!**
Previously BENEFICENCE
DM: Storm Lord's Wrath || Syr Valor Dayne: Sleeping Gods || tooltips | guides | dice |
From the far door of Old Mab’s cottage the lights of Lady Fhionn’s house are visible flickering through the trees. The path from here seems clear.
There is a sudden sound of a number of large forms crashing through the forest downhill towards the companions at speed....it will be moments before they arrive...
Morseth pulls out his crossbow ready for whatever comes. He moves to the nearest cover.
“Thank you, mother, for your wise words” Thatch gives a small bow, then hesitates, one hand going to the knot swelling on his forehead. “Um, you did mention something about taking care of injuries, I have quite the headache if you don’t mind.”
Thatch joins the others as they head up the trail. At the sound of approaching figures, he jumps to the side of the trail and attempts to hide. Stealth: 14.
.
Tana watches silently from behind the party as they interact with Old Mab, noting how curiously similar her own hut had looked to this one. She bowed her head respectfully at the older lady before exiting the home, taking a moment to glance about the area as the others gathered their things. Whilst focused on the lights of the Lady's house off in the distance, the crashing sounds from the nearby trees quickly startled Tana out of her trance. She too drops into a defensive position, moving to hide alongside Thatch, the beginnings of a spell crackling between her fingers.
(Stealth: 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)
( Thatch finds his injuries have healed as he passes out of the strange house.)
(OOC don't suppose I got a spell slot back as I passed out of the house? no? well, worth a try...)
Hotspur follows along in the middle of the pack, rapier drawn, trying to think of insults that might wound a centuries-old witch.
Argyle drew both blades, and positioned himself front-and-center ahead of the others. "She sends distractions!" he scoffs as he adjusts his footing and gets into a stance.
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
The crashing sounds grew louder and then three huge shaggy forms burst forth from the treeline, large gaunt wolves with naked grey skinned heads and eyes and mouths wreathed in green flame they leapt at the companions.
( Get of Fengris Initiative: 21
Roll Initiative and post action if your initiative is greater than the Enemys. )
Hotspur Initiative 19 (rolled in game log)
Tanatari Initiative: 17
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)