The camp is soon struck and all traces of its existence obliterated, and the party is soon back on the water in the same order as yesterday (OOC: unless of course you want to make any alterations in the "marching order"; if I remember rightly Gwrgi is in the lead boat with Tarton and Artifex; followed by the second boat bearing Erolith and The Black Rose?) You begin to notice changes in both the current and the land as you paddle north. The river has many more eddies in it than it did farther south, sometimes to the degree that you feel you are actually floating downriver for brief spells as Gwrgi skillfully steers in and out of them to take advantage of the stream. She smiles as she does. "The River who Flows North and South. It can be useful, sometimes." The Ulvsnesshjolm shore, by contrast, has grown mistier and wetter as you proceed. Bogs of peat and pitcher plant and heath predominate, varied at intervals by patches and groves where the thirsty trees of the riverbank drink their fill. These have a darkly whimsical look that reminds you that you are drawing near the lands brushstroked over by the infinite tendrils and rootlets of the Feywild. But it is definitely a dark whimsy. And much is there that is just plain wild.
Since the stirges attacked, Gwrgi has grown more and more uncharacteristically silent, plunged in deep thought for hours and answering questions with only the briefest necessary verbiage to convey the information needed. Clearly she has been troubled about something, and as the Ulvsnesshjolm and Aberstwyth shores have both grown mistier and marshier on both sides of the river, this has in turn troubled you. Now, as the shadows of evening fill the valley and you begin looking out for your first camping place, she suddenly cries, “Of course! That explains it.,” and points to a spot … again … a little ways up the river on the Ulvsnesshjolm side. The thickest mists and the greenest bogs lie there, and the shores that these slope down to increasingly overhang the surface by anywhere from one to four feet, and sometimes swell up into ten to twelve foot knolls that loom suddenly out of thick fog banks. One of these has just loomed up ahead, topped by a thick trunk of red cedar set upright in the ground and held by roughly carved rectangular stone plinths, longer than they are high. The pole itself is much more skillfully carved with scenes of warfare and the hunting of mighty beasts, and is topped with the huge skull of a beast that must have been truly mighty when it lived. The jaws are wedged open in a way that prominently exhibits the great fangs, nearly as long as short swords, in a display of the strength the creature once possessed and by extension the might of the tribe that killed it.. The carvings on the log are sharp, but the fangs seem worn by wind and weather and are yellowed by time; clearly the skull is far older than its support.
“Lizardfolk.,” the dragonborn priestess says. “My people look on them as distant kindred, but most adhere to more ancient and primal paths than we, and some cross over the line into pure savagery. And they are often far more nomadic than we; when my ancestor first came to this hemisphere he found lizardfolk already here. This tribe has clearly claimed hunting grounds along this section of river since I last journeyed this way. It does explain why the stirges were allowed to establish themselves so far south along the river, though. Under normal circumstances that pack would have been hunted out within a week.”
“They are not by nature a people who tend towards evil, as some are, but their tribes vary wildly in their belief systems and all tend towards labyrinthine and interwoven systems of taboo, ritual obligation, and honor that is hard for outsiders to read in time to avoid offending them. And my presence is not an automatic [Tooltip Not Found] to their favor either. Some tribes regard the dragons we sprang from as gods, but even they view their dragonborn descendants, as we’re called, as at best sapient beings who bear the blood of the gods but have long since been mixed with mortal clay and are as often to be found in their legends fallen to the lure of evil and representing the antideity if there is one in their faith. I could swear that’s a juvenile behir skull; and the behir are the creatures the ancient giant empire called into being when some shadowy foe … I’ve not learned who in all my studies … first summoned the evil dragons to this world against them. My silver ancestors and the rest of the good metallic dragons had not yet learned of the act and crossed the void in pursuit, so the giants made draconic creatures of their own to battle the evil ones. But that was untold ages ago, so odds are just as good that if this even is a behir skull it signifies nothing more than the mightiest prey or foe this tribe has ever felled. And that’s pretty mighty; if I saw the slightest sign that even a juvenile living behir had made its lair in this river valley, I’d be turning these boats around and advising you to go around by land. Preferably on the other side of the Ulvsnesshjolm mountains, bandits and stirges be damned. I don’t think we need fear that though. This skull is clearly a mighty totem spirit or prized trophy that has beeen passed down through at least three or four generations."
===============
(PER rolls for all please! And Gwrgi seems to be clear you will be in charge of how to respond if lizardfolk are encountered, so you might like to discuss that at least a bit IC here or OOC in the message thread beforehand)
As the landscape becomes increasingly wild, a gleam appears in Artifex's eyes, matching the dark whimsy the bogs seem to exude. "Beware the Jabberwock..." They mutter quietly to themselves, before taking a deep lungful of the misty air. "Say what you like about this place, I'll always have a fondness for that smell. Equal parts decay and growth, life and death, the fog so thick you can taste the dampness of the wood in the air. Such a beautiful paradox of beauty and rot."
It snaps out of their reverie as Gwrgi points out the skull. "A behir you say..." It examines the shrine, fascination glowing in their eyes. "We should stop for a moment. I'd quite like to get my hands on one of those fangs. A bit of sharpening and adjustment from one skilled in such things, and it could make a truly unique blade. Such a beautiful creature..." Their voice trails off, it's gaze locked on the empty eye sockets of the remains of this once fearsome monstrosity.
"I never knew the first glimpses of the Feywild could be found only a two days journey by boat up the river. I had always thought its influence would not be so far reaching. Though, perhaps it is because we are traveling faster than I thought we could up river due to the fact that the river flows both north and south. I didn't know that either." Tarton notes of the wild and dark feelings the surroundings give him.
In response to Gwrgi and Artifex, he says, "Thanks for the warning about how easy it is to offend the lizardfolk. It certainly is bad timing to find them here when we are looking for a place to camp for the night. I assume that since these lizardfolk live on the river they have a means to cross it, but wouldn't it still be better on the other side, or is there something worse to fear on that side? Though it sounds like Artifex isn't worried about offending them."
The Black Rose voiced his agreement to Tarton's suggestion. "I agree we should probably camp on the other side of the river if the stream allows us to do so," he said, his voice carrying a note of cautious optimism.
"But if we do camp on that side," The Black Rose continued, his tone taking on a serious edge, "it would be wise not to steal from the natives."
"C'mon you guys, it could be so much fun! Get the blood rushing, hide and watch them freak out for a laugh, and if we do get caught, what would be more thrilling than a chase? Plus we'll get a cool souvenir out of it! Where's your sense of adventure!" Artifex seems to have very little concern for their own safety, truly focused on doing what seems like the most entertaining option, rather than the the wisest. "Plus there would be such a delicious irony to seizing that kind of symbol of strength. If they aren't strong or clever enough to keep ownership of it, then it's little more than a false idol to their own arrogance."
As the landscape becomes increasingly wild, a gleam appears in Artifex's eyes, matching the dark whimsy the bogs seem to exude. "Beware the Jabberwock..." They mutter quietly to themselves, before taking a deep lungful of the misty air. "Say what you like about this place, I'll always have a fondness for that smell. Equal parts decay and growth, life and death, the fog so thick you can taste the dampness of the wood in the air. Such a beautiful paradox of beauty and rot."
It snaps out of their reverie as Gwrgi points out the skull. "A behir you say..." It examines the shrine, fascination glowing in their eyes. "We should stop for a moment. I'd quite like to get my hands on one of those fangs. A bit of sharpening and adjustment from one skilled in such things, and it could make a truly unique blade. Such a beautiful creature..." Their voice trails off, it's gaze locked on the empty eye sockets of the remains of this once fearsome monstrosity.
"I never knew the first glimpses of the Feywild could be found only a two days journey by boat up the river. I had always thought its influence would not be so far reaching. Though, perhaps it is because we are traveling faster than I thought we could up river due to the fact that the river flows both north and south. I didn't know that either." Tarton notes of the wild and dark feelings the surroundings give him.
In response to Gwrgi and Artifex, he says, "Thanks for the warning about how easy it is to offend the lizardfolk. It certainly is bad timing to find them here when we are looking for a place to camp for the night. I assume that since these lizardfolk live on the river they have a means to cross it, but wouldn't it still be better on the other side, or is there something worse to fear on that side? Though it sounds like Artifex isn't worried about offending them."
Gwrgi nods. "Yes. That's another reason to use it; the eddies sometimes give an almost uncanny boost to speed. Unless you've done something to offend the Raven Queen." She nods towards the black bulk of Cricket Tor to the northeast. "At least in the scary stories children will be fascinating each other with later in the year, as Inveralwyn shines less brightly and the cold light of Gyrk'vasa waxes in the sky. She is said to wield power over the river near her stony howe, and to suddenly suck it into her cave as the doomed one draws nigh."
She returns to the present with an obvious effort; it is apparent she must have loved these scary stories as a girl. "The lizardfolk probably consider the whole valley their rightful hunting grounds since they chose the river in its midst to mark. But it is true they're more likely to be encountered on the side their village is on. Do you see any huts on either side through the mist, or any old ruins?" Those who were sharper eyed or luckier than not have in fact seen traces of old and crumbling stonework widely scattered along both shores; it seems just a little thicker on the Ulvsnesshjolm side.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Tarton replies to Artifex and the others, "Oh, I was not saying I was against taking a fang. I was only pointing out that Artifex doesn't seem intimidated by the lizardfolk. With the description of how easily they take offense from someone not knowing their customs and their seemingly willful refusal to acknowledge that not everyone follows the same customs, it seems they are looking for any excuse to attack those they feel are weaker then they are. It seems likely we would end up fighting them even if we didn't take a fang. So I'm definitely not against a prank that would cause such a blow to their pride. Everyone but Gwrgi knows how I love testing myself. If you think we can handle them if we're caught, then I say lets go, but waiting around to watch? That is just asking for trouble. With them claiming the whole valley as their hunting ground, we would have to be doubly unlucky to have some lizardfolk here right now. As for asking if we can sleep on the other side of the river, that was to find out if that is a safe option. If we do take a fang... or five, we still need to sleep somewhere and across the river could be safer than right on the doorstep of those we played a prank on. Especially when the point of the prank is to challenge their strength." You can see the excitement in his eyes that you now realize was missing most of the day, except when he was looking for a jewel to go with the wand/rod that The Black Rose found.
After some more thought he says, "Gwrgi, do these lizardfolk present a hazard to those traveling the river, and do you know how many they usually have in a hunting party? I don't want to end up in a pot just to try and teach someone a lesson. I'd feel better about ending up in a pot if I was trying to accomplish something more... meaningful."
An artful smile plays at the corners of the eladrin's lips, and they turn to Tarton, a dark glint in its eye. "You've much to learn about the Fae if you truly think I lack an understanding of the wide variety of customs across peoples and cultures little halfling. And I assure you I've no desire to, as you say, attack those I feel weaker than myself. I find such things boring beyond measure. It is more akin to what you call 'testing yourself'. I'm quite certain the lizard folk could tear us apart, particularly in numbers. The satisfaction I seek comes from knowing if I were caught, I would be done for. A thrilling chase of life and death is the height of ecstasy, and if I should falter, then it will have been a glorious end to an entertaining life."
There is a pause, and as though a switch were flipped, Artifex's smile is once more whimsical, their gaze once more brightened by innocent curiosity. "We can rest on either side of the river though! I truly cannot tell the difference between the two, other than the obvious. A break will give me a chance to touch up some of my tattoos!" It wanders to the front of the boat, humming an upbeat tune to themselves.
The Black Rose gave out a heavy sigh. “I can feel where this conversation is heading, I guess we're doing this. It's a good thing I prepared more healing serum."
As Artifex spoke about the preparation of his tattoos, The Black Rose responded “If we do have that time on our hands, do you mind if I observe you?" he inquired, his tone gentle yet filled with genuine curiosity. "I can also help you out if you need it. And maybe you can help me out with the ingredients I have gathered. I would like to make something of a healing nature; you do seem to know something about plants due to what I assume is the nature of your tattoos."
You hear an odd resonant sound; it takes a moment to realize it is coming from Gwrgi's clawed forefinger as she taps it thoughtfully against a scale, considering Tarton's question. "Well, depending on the size of the tribe, a hunting party could range anywhere from three to fifteen or so. Generally if you run into anything larger, its a warband rather than hunters and the tribe is probably locked in a battle for life and death with somebody or something. That's fairly rare though. In normal times, it depends. Most tribes I know of retain no more of a taste for humanoid flesh than other sorts, and frankly consider it a blot on their ks'a to hunt such -- " she hesitates diplomatically, "well, in their view, they woulddishonor themselves by hunting such weak and easy prey rather than going for something that would be more of a challenge. They are often fiercely territorial though, and take careful handling before they will listen to strangers asking safe passage through their lands."
"Most tribes. A few have been corrupted to violence and evil by a demon lord who seeks to make them over into his own brutal image. He's had very little success on this world though. I only know of one that fell to Sssess'inek for certain; they came out of the deep Haunted Lands around thirty years ago, and the Aino Aaltonen had to battle them to the death. We lost many good priests and paladins that day, and far too many of the few monks we've ever had."
===============
(catching up on ?s again ;} ... advancement in this campaign will be milestone based. Those inclined to draw omens from the tiny imperceptible things the DM does may or may not find it tormentingly pertinent that Gwrgi, a 2nd level character, has now joined you. So far, though, you yourselves haven't yet experienced any sudden new insights or mysterious new abilities you didn't have before LOL)
Erolith ponders on this information and thanks Gwrgi for sharing.
”It may be wise to scout this area to better know what we are potentially up against. Additionally, night falls soon and a decision needs to be made concerning which side of the river we set up camp. I would prefer not to have a lizardfolk warband marching through our encampment while we rest.”
”Anyone care to join me for a sightseeing trip,” Erolith asks as he grins to the party.
"From Gwrgi's response, I didn't get the sense that we would run into a war band, but that they are likely to not attack us because they see us as too weak to bother with (unless we give them a reason to be angry with us), but will stop us from traveling through their claimed territory unless we can come to an agreement. I would assume this totem they built is close to the center of their claimed territory on the river, so we could possibly be out of it in a day or two's travel, if we're lucky and not run into them. If we do run into them, perhaps they'd let us travel on the river if we tell them about the stirges we've killed and that we'll kill all the stirges we can while we travel. While stirges may not be a big threat to the lizardfolk, I would guess they are still pests that should be taken care of before their numbers get too big. Of course, if anyone else has an idea of what to offer them, I'm sure you've already come up with something better." Tarton suggests.
In response to Erolith's suggestion to look around, he quickly looks around at the fog covered banks and river. He imagines he sees the fog and shadows take the shape of a demon's face with long fangs under a tree on the bank. He tries to ignore it, but when he finally points it out to the others, before anyone can see the shapes he is describing that make up the face, it is gone. "Trick of the light, I suppose." he says uncomfortably, then adds "I will join you for a search of the area to see what's here. Did you mean to look on foot, or from the boats? Either way, I will join you."
As the boats approach an area where the water is more calm, Tarton pulls out his waterskin, lets three drops fall from it into the water and watches the ripples they form, then takes a drink and puts it away.
"Let's stay on the side further away from that glorious trophy." Artifex says, gesturing at the skull. "I'm afraid my temptation will get the better of me if we were to sleep close to it."
(unless anyone wants to do otherwise, I'll assume you all concur with Artifex and land to explore the Llandovion shore across the river from the totem)
Although this shore had appeared more meadowy and green when you observed it yesterday from afar, you soon discover that the emerald green conceals ground that is even wetter and more boggy than you found in the vicinity of your encampment. It is almost as if some child so vast its race were giants to the giants had taken its titanic thumb and dug a furrow that roughly traced the shoreline ... sometimes wavering closer, sometimes farther, always a mile broad at least ... where the marsh and bog of the riverlands northwest of here oozed into its sunken course. The tall grasses and reeds that fill it are so thickly grown that the narrow seams and gaps among them could not be seen from afar either. Their close-set tops seemed like the whole leaves of shorter grass. On the positive side, if you camp here any landbound creatures in the area will have to approach you along one of those narrow fissures if they don't want to alert the entire river valley by the swishing crackle of bending grass and reed.
You quickly ascertain that there are either two or three suitable campsites nearby; two you can see glimpses of at the end of long windy tracks north and south along the riverbank, and the third you believe you saw in the near distance as you were landing. You are on the northward arc of a gentle curve, and the sharp-eyed Aes Sidhe among you are fairly certain they saw signs of a larger clearing at the northwesternmost cusp where the river straightens itself due north again. They also think it was a little farther inland; but neither Erolith nor Artifex is certain enough to unequivocally swear to the putative clearing's actual existence.
Tarton looks back briefly with a look of slight disappointment then faces forward and continues to paddle towards the opposite shore and the chosen camp site.
“I’d like to check out a potential campsite further inland as I do not fully trust the riverside. Tarton, would you like to accompany me?” Erolith steps ashore and glances towards Gwrgi. “Any advice?”
Tarton says, "Certainly." as he grabs his pack and exits the boat and follows Erolith, letting him guide the way. He moves as quietly as he can and watches for anything that could be dangerous and/or dinner.
Stealth in log: 17 Perception in log: 22
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The camp is soon struck and all traces of its existence obliterated, and the party is soon back on the water in the same order as yesterday (OOC: unless of course you want to make any alterations in the "marching order"; if I remember rightly Gwrgi is in the lead boat with Tarton and Artifex; followed by the second boat bearing Erolith and The Black Rose?) You begin to notice changes in both the current and the land as you paddle north. The river has many more eddies in it than it did farther south, sometimes to the degree that you feel you are actually floating downriver for brief spells as Gwrgi skillfully steers in and out of them to take advantage of the stream. She smiles as she does. "The River who Flows North and South. It can be useful, sometimes." The Ulvsnesshjolm shore, by contrast, has grown mistier and wetter as you proceed. Bogs of peat and pitcher plant and heath predominate, varied at intervals by patches and groves where the thirsty trees of the riverbank drink their fill. These have a darkly whimsical look that reminds you that you are drawing near the lands brushstroked over by the infinite tendrils and rootlets of the Feywild. But it is definitely a dark whimsy. And much is there that is just plain wild.
Since the stirges attacked, Gwrgi has grown more and more uncharacteristically silent, plunged in deep thought for hours and answering questions with only the briefest necessary verbiage to convey the information needed. Clearly she has been troubled about something, and as the Ulvsnesshjolm and Aberstwyth shores have both grown mistier and marshier on both sides of the river, this has in turn troubled you. Now, as the shadows of evening fill the valley and you begin looking out for your first camping place, she suddenly cries, “Of course! That explains it.,” and points to a spot … again … a little ways up the river on the Ulvsnesshjolm side. The thickest mists and the greenest bogs lie there, and the shores that these slope down to increasingly overhang the surface by anywhere from one to four feet, and sometimes swell up into ten to twelve foot knolls that loom suddenly out of thick fog banks. One of these has just loomed up ahead, topped by a thick trunk of red cedar set upright in the ground and held by roughly carved rectangular stone plinths, longer than they are high. The pole itself is much more skillfully carved with scenes of warfare and the hunting of mighty beasts, and is topped with the huge skull of a beast that must have been truly mighty when it lived. The jaws are wedged open in a way that prominently exhibits the great fangs, nearly as long as short swords, in a display of the strength the creature once possessed and by extension the might of the tribe that killed it.. The carvings on the log are sharp, but the fangs seem worn by wind and weather and are yellowed by time; clearly the skull is far older than its support.
“Lizardfolk.,” the dragonborn priestess says. “My people look on them as distant kindred, but most adhere to more ancient and primal paths than we, and some cross over the line into pure savagery. And they are often far more nomadic than we; when my ancestor first came to this hemisphere he found lizardfolk already here. This tribe has clearly claimed hunting grounds along this section of river since I last journeyed this way. It does explain why the stirges were allowed to establish themselves so far south along the river, though. Under normal circumstances that pack would have been hunted out within a week.”
“They are not by nature a people who tend towards evil, as some are, but their tribes vary wildly in their belief systems and all tend towards labyrinthine and interwoven systems of taboo, ritual obligation, and honor that is hard for outsiders to read in time to avoid offending them. And my presence is not an automatic [Tooltip Not Found] to their favor either. Some tribes regard the dragons we sprang from as gods, but even they view their dragonborn descendants, as we’re called, as at best sapient beings who bear the blood of the gods but have long since been mixed with mortal clay and are as often to be found in their legends fallen to the lure of evil and representing the antideity if there is one in their faith. I could swear that’s a juvenile behir skull; and the behir are the creatures the ancient giant empire called into being when some shadowy foe … I’ve not learned who in all my studies … first summoned the evil dragons to this world against them. My silver ancestors and the rest of the good metallic dragons had not yet learned of the act and crossed the void in pursuit, so the giants made draconic creatures of their own to battle the evil ones. But that was untold ages ago, so odds are just as good that if this even is a behir skull it signifies nothing more than the mightiest prey or foe this tribe has ever felled. And that’s pretty mighty; if I saw the slightest sign that even a juvenile living behir had made its lair in this river valley, I’d be turning these boats around and advising you to go around by land. Preferably on the other side of the Ulvsnesshjolm mountains, bandits and stirges be damned. I don’t think we need fear that though. This skull is clearly a mighty totem spirit or prized trophy that has beeen passed down through at least three or four generations."
===============
(PER rolls for all please! And Gwrgi seems to be clear you will be in charge of how to respond if lizardfolk are encountered, so you might like to discuss that at least a bit IC here or OOC in the message thread beforehand)
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
As the landscape becomes increasingly wild, a gleam appears in Artifex's eyes, matching the dark whimsy the bogs seem to exude. "Beware the Jabberwock..." They mutter quietly to themselves, before taking a deep lungful of the misty air. "Say what you like about this place, I'll always have a fondness for that smell. Equal parts decay and growth, life and death, the fog so thick you can taste the dampness of the wood in the air. Such a beautiful paradox of beauty and rot."
It snaps out of their reverie as Gwrgi points out the skull. "A behir you say..." It examines the shrine, fascination glowing in their eyes. "We should stop for a moment. I'd quite like to get my hands on one of those fangs. A bit of sharpening and adjustment from one skilled in such things, and it could make a truly unique blade. Such a beautiful creature..." Their voice trails off, it's gaze locked on the empty eye sockets of the remains of this once fearsome monstrosity.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
May I make an Arcana check as well, see if Artifex feels any sort of residual magical aura coming from the remains?
Perception check: 5
Erolith listens intently to Gwrgi’s tale and peers out into the mists studying the skull and support.
PER roll = 18
========
OOC: Before we progress too much further, how is XP being handled. Thanks in advance!
Perception in log: 15
"I never knew the first glimpses of the Feywild could be found only a two days journey by boat up the river. I had always thought its influence would not be so far reaching. Though, perhaps it is because we are traveling faster than I thought we could up river due to the fact that the river flows both north and south. I didn't know that either." Tarton notes of the wild and dark feelings the surroundings give him.
In response to Gwrgi and Artifex, he says, "Thanks for the warning about how easy it is to offend the lizardfolk. It certainly is bad timing to find them here when we are looking for a place to camp for the night. I assume that since these lizardfolk live on the river they have a means to cross it, but wouldn't it still be better on the other side, or is there something worse to fear on that side? Though it sounds like Artifex isn't worried about offending them."
The Black Rose voiced his agreement to Tarton's suggestion. "I agree we should probably camp on the other side of the river if the stream allows us to do so," he said, his voice carrying a note of cautious optimism.
"But if we do camp on that side," The Black Rose continued, his tone taking on a serious edge, "it would be wise not to steal from the natives."
——————
Perception check: 12
"C'mon you guys, it could be so much fun! Get the blood rushing, hide and watch them freak out for a laugh, and if we do get caught, what would be more thrilling than a chase? Plus we'll get a cool souvenir out of it! Where's your sense of adventure!" Artifex seems to have very little concern for their own safety, truly focused on doing what seems like the most entertaining option, rather than the the wisest. "Plus there would be such a delicious irony to seizing that kind of symbol of strength. If they aren't strong or clever enough to keep ownership of it, then it's little more than a false idol to their own arrogance."
Absolutely! 'The inner eye oft sees what the outer would leave behind.'
Gwrgi nods. "Yes. That's another reason to use it; the eddies sometimes give an almost uncanny boost to speed. Unless you've done something to offend the Raven Queen." She nods towards the black bulk of Cricket Tor to the northeast. "At least in the scary stories children will be fascinating each other with later in the year, as Inveralwyn shines less brightly and the cold light of Gyrk'vasa waxes in the sky. She is said to wield power over the river near her stony howe, and to suddenly suck it into her cave as the doomed one draws nigh."
She returns to the present with an obvious effort; it is apparent she must have loved these scary stories as a girl. "The lizardfolk probably consider the whole valley their rightful hunting grounds since they chose the river in its midst to mark. But it is true they're more likely to be encountered on the side their village is on. Do you see any huts on either side through the mist, or any old ruins?" Those who were sharper eyed or luckier than not have in fact seen traces of old and crumbling stonework widely scattered along both shores; it seems just a little thicker on the Ulvsnesshjolm side.
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Tarton replies to Artifex and the others, "Oh, I was not saying I was against taking a fang. I was only pointing out that Artifex doesn't seem intimidated by the lizardfolk. With the description of how easily they take offense from someone not knowing their customs and their seemingly willful refusal to acknowledge that not everyone follows the same customs, it seems they are looking for any excuse to attack those they feel are weaker then they are. It seems likely we would end up fighting them even if we didn't take a fang. So I'm definitely not against a prank that would cause such a blow to their pride. Everyone but Gwrgi knows how I love testing myself. If you think we can handle them if we're caught, then I say lets go, but waiting around to watch? That is just asking for trouble. With them claiming the whole valley as their hunting ground, we would have to be doubly unlucky to have some lizardfolk here right now. As for asking if we can sleep on the other side of the river, that was to find out if that is a safe option. If we do take a fang... or five, we still need to sleep somewhere and across the river could be safer than right on the doorstep of those we played a prank on. Especially when the point of the prank is to challenge their strength." You can see the excitement in his eyes that you now realize was missing most of the day, except when he was looking for a jewel to go with the wand/rod that The Black Rose found.
After some more thought he says, "Gwrgi, do these lizardfolk present a hazard to those traveling the river, and do you know how many they usually have in a hunting party? I don't want to end up in a pot just to try and teach someone a lesson. I'd feel better about ending up in a pot if I was trying to accomplish something more... meaningful."
An artful smile plays at the corners of the eladrin's lips, and they turn to Tarton, a dark glint in its eye. "You've much to learn about the Fae if you truly think I lack an understanding of the wide variety of customs across peoples and cultures little halfling. And I assure you I've no desire to, as you say, attack those I feel weaker than myself. I find such things boring beyond measure. It is more akin to what you call 'testing yourself'. I'm quite certain the lizard folk could tear us apart, particularly in numbers. The satisfaction I seek comes from knowing if I were caught, I would be done for. A thrilling chase of life and death is the height of ecstasy, and if I should falter, then it will have been a glorious end to an entertaining life."
There is a pause, and as though a switch were flipped, Artifex's smile is once more whimsical, their gaze once more brightened by innocent curiosity. "We can rest on either side of the river though! I truly cannot tell the difference between the two, other than the obvious. A break will give me a chance to touch up some of my tattoos!" It wanders to the front of the boat, humming an upbeat tune to themselves.
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Arcana: 17
The Black Rose gave out a heavy sigh. “I can feel where this conversation is heading, I guess we're doing this. It's a good thing I prepared more healing serum."
As Artifex spoke about the preparation of his tattoos, The Black Rose responded “If we do have that time on our hands, do you mind if I observe you?" he inquired, his tone gentle yet filled with genuine curiosity. "I can also help you out if you need it. And maybe you can help me out with the ingredients I have gathered. I would like to make something of a healing nature; you do seem to know something about plants due to what I assume is the nature of your tattoos."
You hear an odd resonant sound; it takes a moment to realize it is coming from Gwrgi's clawed forefinger as she taps it thoughtfully against a scale, considering Tarton's question. "Well, depending on the size of the tribe, a hunting party could range anywhere from three to fifteen or so. Generally if you run into anything larger, its a warband rather than hunters and the tribe is probably locked in a battle for life and death with somebody or something. That's fairly rare though. In normal times, it depends. Most tribes I know of retain no more of a taste for humanoid flesh than other sorts, and frankly consider it a blot on their ks'a to hunt such -- " she hesitates diplomatically, "well, in their view, they would dishonor themselves by hunting such weak and easy prey rather than going for something that would be more of a challenge. They are often fiercely territorial though, and take careful handling before they will listen to strangers asking safe passage through their lands."
"Most tribes. A few have been corrupted to violence and evil by a demon lord who seeks to make them over into his own brutal image. He's had very little success on this world though. I only know of one that fell to Sssess'inek for certain; they came out of the deep Haunted Lands around thirty years ago, and the Aino Aaltonen had to battle them to the death. We lost many good priests and paladins that day, and far too many of the few monks we've ever had."
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(catching up on ?s again ;} ... advancement in this campaign will be milestone based. Those inclined to draw omens from the tiny imperceptible things the DM does may or may not find it tormentingly pertinent that Gwrgi, a 2nd level character, has now joined you. So far, though, you yourselves haven't yet experienced any sudden new insights or mysterious new abilities you didn't have before LOL)
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Erolith ponders on this information and thanks Gwrgi for sharing.
”It may be wise to scout this area to better know what we are potentially up against. Additionally, night falls soon and a decision needs to be made concerning which side of the river we set up camp. I would prefer not to have a lizardfolk warband marching through our encampment while we rest.”
”Anyone care to join me for a sightseeing trip,” Erolith asks as he grins to the party.
"From Gwrgi's response, I didn't get the sense that we would run into a war band, but that they are likely to not attack us because they see us as too weak to bother with (unless we give them a reason to be angry with us), but will stop us from traveling through their claimed territory unless we can come to an agreement. I would assume this totem they built is close to the center of their claimed territory on the river, so we could possibly be out of it in a day or two's travel, if we're lucky and not run into them. If we do run into them, perhaps they'd let us travel on the river if we tell them about the stirges we've killed and that we'll kill all the stirges we can while we travel. While stirges may not be a big threat to the lizardfolk, I would guess they are still pests that should be taken care of before their numbers get too big. Of course, if anyone else has an idea of what to offer them, I'm sure you've already come up with something better." Tarton suggests.
In response to Erolith's suggestion to look around, he quickly looks around at the fog covered banks and river. He imagines he sees the fog and shadows take the shape of a demon's face with long fangs under a tree on the bank. He tries to ignore it, but when he finally points it out to the others, before anyone can see the shapes he is describing that make up the face, it is gone. "Trick of the light, I suppose." he says uncomfortably, then adds "I will join you for a search of the area to see what's here. Did you mean to look on foot, or from the boats? Either way, I will join you."
As the boats approach an area where the water is more calm, Tarton pulls out his waterskin, lets three drops fall from it into the water and watches the ripples they form, then takes a drink and puts it away.
To Tarton, “I fear the mists shroud too much and search from the boats will be useless. Let’s go ashore and have a look.”
Erolith steadies himself for departure from the boat.
"Let's stay on the side further away from that glorious trophy." Artifex says, gesturing at the skull. "I'm afraid my temptation will get the better of me if we were to sleep close to it."
(unless anyone wants to do otherwise, I'll assume you all concur with Artifex and land to explore the Llandovion shore across the river from the totem)
Although this shore had appeared more meadowy and green when you observed it yesterday from afar, you soon discover that the emerald green conceals ground that is even wetter and more boggy than you found in the vicinity of your encampment. It is almost as if some child so vast its race were giants to the giants had taken its titanic thumb and dug a furrow that roughly traced the shoreline ... sometimes wavering closer, sometimes farther, always a mile broad at least ... where the marsh and bog of the riverlands northwest of here oozed into its sunken course. The tall grasses and reeds that fill it are so thickly grown that the narrow seams and gaps among them could not be seen from afar either. Their close-set tops seemed like the whole leaves of shorter grass. On the positive side, if you camp here any landbound creatures in the area will have to approach you along one of those narrow fissures if they don't want to alert the entire river valley by the swishing crackle of bending grass and reed.
You quickly ascertain that there are either two or three suitable campsites nearby; two you can see glimpses of at the end of long windy tracks north and south along the riverbank, and the third you believe you saw in the near distance as you were landing. You are on the northward arc of a gentle curve, and the sharp-eyed Aes Sidhe among you are fairly certain they saw signs of a larger clearing at the northwesternmost cusp where the river straightens itself due north again. They also think it was a little farther inland; but neither Erolith nor Artifex is certain enough to unequivocally swear to the putative clearing's actual existence.
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Tarton looks back briefly with a look of slight disappointment then faces forward and continues to paddle towards the opposite shore and the chosen camp site.
“I’d like to check out a potential campsite further inland as I do not fully trust the riverside. Tarton, would you like to accompany me?” Erolith steps ashore and glances towards Gwrgi. “Any advice?”
Tarton says, "Certainly." as he grabs his pack and exits the boat and follows Erolith, letting him guide the way. He moves as quietly as he can and watches for anything that could be dangerous and/or dinner.
Stealth in log: 17
Perception in log: 22