Though no stranger to sleeping outside--as indeed she'd spent all her nights in Dawn Point sleeping behind bins in alleys or curled up against warm chimneys--the creatures that lurk in the dark here certainly made Ember wary of doing so with the Door to other planes open. Hands twisting in her scarf, she smiles as Cork mimics the sound of the fire, then brushes her own arms as well with a nod.
"I think that... maybe it's not just the house that's cursed but the whole everything? Maybe no matter where we sleep we'll still feel it too cuzza the bad Door? But at least those fiends aren't here anymore! That's what they were--fiends," she explains in a stage whisper. "So maybe they can't make us sleep in bed for ever now." Her gaze drifts to the stairs and she scoots closer to Big Man, though she hops away with a squeak when she gets dripped on.
"Alright..."Concedes the massive blonde bearded warrior, looking around at the others with a nod. "...so where do you all want to sleep?"He adds with a shrug of his broad shoulders.
(Thurodim would prefer if they all ate and slept together, even closely packed together like he was used to up north, although that might not be appreciated by everyone ;-)
[Did we spot anything like linens or sheets or blankets in the house - other than those covering the dead - that we could bring down to camp out in the livingroom?]
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Ember strides over to the space in front of the hearth and gestures to it with wide sweep of her hands. "Here? Can we sleep here? With the fire?" she asks, looking hopeful. "I think there's some really good sleeping nooks!" Crouching down on the floor and becoming a bit of a dust mop, she demonstrates by crawling beneath the coffee table and then trying to squeeze under one of the sofas. "No one would find us under here! So they can't take our food or things," she grunts with the effort of fitting into the small space. "And it doesn't smell as bad as sleeping behind bins!"
Ozyre gives a nod to Ember's suggestion. "Sounds good to me! Always good to stay warm. Especially since this rain might decide to be a real stinker and overstay its welcome, and we're gonna have to do some travelling tomorrow." The severely diminished giant casually walks under a table near the hearth, only cocking his head slightly to the side to fit under it. He lies down and begins to engulf himself in a blanket from upstairs, but suddenly sits up (such that a greater man would have bonked his head on the table) before he has a chance to doff his armor. "Oh, right! We should probably make sure somebody's watching, just in case dragon chickens or I suppose fiendish entities sneakimificate us. I could stay up a couple hours and then tag somebody else in. Who wants to get tagged in?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
After fetching blankets from upstairs, [Sound of Cork Popping] distributes them, with a few extra for the huge barbarian.
Then he takes his own, piling them up and arranging them in an oval on the floor. He signals to Ozyre with a 'thumbs up' at the question about getting tagged in for watch. Then he pulls out his trunk and changes out of the leather armor and into a grey sleep shirt with a matching nightcap. Then he curls up into a fetal position, tucks his head under an armpit, and goes to sleep.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
The party begins preparing to bed down for a restful night of sleep. The warm glow of the fireplace is still holding on and providing you with light and heat. Outside, the rain continues to pour, the pitter patter of drops hitting the windows serving as the only source of ambient noise.
Your meal, while not as savory nor pleasing-looking, is enough fill your stomach. Ember, [Sound of Cork Popping] and Thurodim all fall sound asleep in this dreadful house, while Ozyre takes the first turn of watch duty.
(If you still want to do other things before taking the long rest or during your turn of watch, please feel free to do so. If you could also roll me a general wisdom check, to measure how easily you manage to fall asleep in these conditions. Once you’re all ready, you may gain all the benefits of a long rest.)
The massive blonde bearded and still fairly wet warrior chuckles at Ember's suggestion. "No nooks big enough to hold me little one. Just stay in a close nook and I will sleep better." He then says in a serious and sincere tone. Thurodim then gratefully accepts the blankets [Sound of Cork Popping] hands him, trying to find a place to rest with his bedroll and his blankets where he will be as protective of the others as possible. He then offers up what he brought from the cellar for the small but brave adventurers to eat, himself eating slowly in silence, seeming to listen to sounds of threats, making sure the little one is asleep before finally going to sleep himself.
Much of Ozyre's "watch" consists of him sitting under the table that he's marked as his sleeping quarters and inspecting the contents of his tinderbox, using a quill to scribble a couple pages of various notes. After a couple hours, he hides himself within his large blanket, emerging sans chainmail after a few minutes of as few clinks and clanks as he could manage (which is still quite a number). He tip toes over to Cork and gives the resting kenku a few light taps. "Your turn! Make sure to keep your eyes peeled the whole time." With that torch passed, he tip toes back under his blanket and instantly goes out like a light.
Wisdom: 18 (19 - 1)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
It takes some time for the little wizard to fall asleep in her place beneath the sofa. But it's with a practiced hand that she puppets shapes within the fire, a silent bedtime story told a thousand times. Of a little girl who did not lose her family. Of a granddaughter not left behind. The silhouette of a man and a woman form in the flames, holding a baby in their arms. An old gnome and a squirrel. And then a trio of adventurers appear.
Eerie against the silence of the house and the raging storm beyond its safety, she quietly sings herself to sleep--a haunting lullaby she can only remember whilst in the surreality of the In Between, that strange paradox of unconscious awareness when the things we've hidden in our minds are easier to find again.
"Hush little baby, don't make a sound. Mama and papa are holding you now. Here in our arms, you'll always be safe, lay your sweet head and dream of the day. Hush, hush. Hush my sweet babe, lay down your head and dream of the day.
And in the night, there's nothing to fear. Mama and papa will always be near. Here in your heart, we'll always stay, lay your sweet head and dream of the day. Hush, hush. Hush my sweet babe, Let my voice guide you to dreams of the day."
Her small voice trails off, lids fluttering shut as the comfort of the lyrics lull her fully to sleep.
Sometime during the night, drawn out from the safety of her hiding place, Ember emerges and pads over in a mass of blankets to curl up against Big Man's side. And Aganazzar takes up watch alongside Cork.
Woken by Ozyre, [Sound of Cork Popping]'s head snaps up, alert, looking this way and that and blinking his beady black eyes.
He tosses a bit of wood to get the fire blazing again. He doesn't bother to redon his armor, instead just sitting on the floor in his night clothes with his back against the front door of the house and his longsword on the floor in front of him.
He passes the time alone in the dim light, mimicking the sounds the farm house makes... creaking beams and rustling roof tiles.
When Aganazzar comes to join him, he salutes the squirrel and scoots over to one side, making more room against the door.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Aggie looks up at the kenku with his own beady eyes that belie a greater sentience behind them before he sits in the vacated space. His fluffy tail coils tightly around his body, ears flicking about for any sounds of trouble.
When his ward reaches out towards the hearth, pulling the flames towards herself as she sleepcasts, he scurries over to nudge and paw at her scarred hands, stopping the somatic component of the cantrip. With a tiny heave ho, he pulls the blanket up around her shoulders before disappearing briefly beneath it. When he emerges, it's with a small pouch that he drags with him back over to the door and deposits next to [Sound of Cork Popping], before taking up his post once more. Inside is an offering of a midnight snack: a variety of jerky.
It’s not the most comfortable night you’ve ever had, but eventually, morning comes, your rest having been undisturbed.
[Sound of Cork Popping] and Thurodim both manage to fall asleep despite yesterday’s unsettling events. It takes a little more time than usual however.
When Ozyre’s watch comes to an end, he falls asleep almost instantly, seemingly unbothered by what he experienced.
Ember has the hardest time falling asleep. Being inexperienced with dealing with death, or perhaps as a side effect of the creatures’ influence, the child tosses and turns for a while before eventually clearing her mind and singing herself a lullaby to sleep.
Morning finds you rested and ready. The sun, while blocked behind thick rain clouds, still offers to better lighting condition than when you arrived the day before. The fireplace is now extinguished, having burned through the logs you placed. The day is yours to do whatever you have planned.
As the massive blonde bearded warrior is woken up by [Sound of Cork Popping] for his shift he finds the little one curled up by his side, giving the birdman a nod to let him go back to his rest, then giving the little one a gentle pat as he looks down on her with protective eyes He then finds a comfortable position for his watch, making sure he is protecting all the small but very brave adventurers sleeping around him. I nagging feeling creeps up on him though that all the strength and endurance of the bear would not be enough for this witchcraft that Bart seemed to have dabbled with.
When morning comes, Thurodim gently rouses the others, having prepared a morning meal for them from what was left from last night. "We should find Bart." He says plainly as he gathers up his gear. "I will take care of those corpses later." He adds, standing up now, ready to move out.
Ember rubs the sleep from her eyes then yawns and stretches like a cat as Aggie holds on for dear life while she bends this way and that. Immediately upon rising, she goes over to the hearth and begins to rub ash and soot on her skin from the douted fire, making her look quite the mess. She makes quick work of breakfast and, ever the scavenger, peers at the others' plates just in case they have leftovers.
As Thurodim gathers his gear, she gathers up her own, strapping herself into her Grandpa's spellbook before hurrying down the hall and into the kitchen. There's a clatter of objects as she seems to be searching for something.
((Ember casts Mage Armor on herself. And any chance she can find some flour in the kitchen? Investigation if needed: 19+5 24))
Once he wakes up, Ozyre wriggles around under his blanket for a while. After a few minutes of clinking, he emerges like a butterfly from a cocoon, except without all the metamorphosis stuff because he looks about the same as the night before, fully clad in chainmail. The only noticeable difference is that his hair is somehow even wilder.
"So the ruins are by the riverbank, and the riverbank is by the river, and the river is north, so the riverbank is north, so the ruins are north, and we're going to the ruins, so we're going north. Whenever people are ready, we can head off." Ozyre stands ready to move out in much the same way as Thurodim, right next to (and a fair few feet below) the hulking barbarian.
As the warriors of the party prepare to head out by putting on their armor and gathering their weapons, Ember heads into the kitchen and begins rifling through the cabinets, making a mess in the process. She eventually manages to find a large metallic jar containing a light white powder. Upon inspection, it does appear to be flour.
Victorious, Ember carries the jar above her head like a trophy as she dances her way back into the living room. "Okay! READY! I've got a jar of flour!" she announces proudly.
Though no stranger to sleeping outside--as indeed she'd spent all her nights in Dawn Point sleeping behind bins in alleys or curled up against warm chimneys--the creatures that lurk in the dark here certainly made Ember wary of doing so with the Door to other planes open. Hands twisting in her scarf, she smiles as Cork mimics the sound of the fire, then brushes her own arms as well with a nod.
"I think that... maybe it's not just the house that's cursed but the whole everything? Maybe no matter where we sleep we'll still feel it too cuzza the bad Door? But at least those fiends aren't here anymore! That's what they were--fiends," she explains in a stage whisper. "So maybe they can't make us sleep in bed for ever now." Her gaze drifts to the stairs and she scoots closer to Big Man, though she hops away with a squeak when she gets dripped on.
"Alright..." Concedes the massive blonde bearded warrior, looking around at the others with a nod. "...so where do you all want to sleep?" He adds with a shrug of his broad shoulders.
(Thurodim would prefer if they all ate and slept together, even closely packed together like he was used to up north, although that might not be appreciated by everyone ;-)
[Did we spot anything like linens or sheets or blankets in the house - other than those covering the dead - that we could bring down to camp out in the livingroom?]
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
(I’d say yes. In the rooms on the second floor, you could find spare linens in the cabinets and cupboards.)
Ember strides over to the space in front of the hearth and gestures to it with wide sweep of her hands. "Here? Can we sleep here? With the fire?" she asks, looking hopeful. "I think there's some really good sleeping nooks!" Crouching down on the floor and becoming a bit of a dust mop, she demonstrates by crawling beneath the coffee table and then trying to squeeze under one of the sofas. "No one would find us under here! So they can't take our food or things," she grunts with the effort of fitting into the small space. "And it doesn't smell as bad as sleeping behind bins!"
Ozyre gives a nod to Ember's suggestion. "Sounds good to me! Always good to stay warm. Especially since this rain might decide to be a real stinker and overstay its welcome, and we're gonna have to do some travelling tomorrow." The severely diminished giant casually walks under a table near the hearth, only cocking his head slightly to the side to fit under it. He lies down and begins to engulf himself in a blanket from upstairs, but suddenly sits up (such that a greater man would have bonked his head on the table) before he has a chance to doff his armor. "Oh, right! We should probably make sure somebody's watching, just in case dragon chickens or I suppose fiendish entities sneakimificate us. I could stay up a couple hours and then tag somebody else in. Who wants to get tagged in?"
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
After fetching blankets from upstairs, [Sound of Cork Popping] distributes them, with a few extra for the huge barbarian.
Then he takes his own, piling them up and arranging them in an oval on the floor. He signals to Ozyre with a 'thumbs up' at the question about getting tagged in for watch. Then he pulls out his trunk and changes out of the leather armor and into a grey sleep shirt with a matching nightcap. Then he curls up into a fetal position, tucks his head under an armpit, and goes to sleep.
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
The party begins preparing to bed down for a restful night of sleep. The warm glow of the fireplace is still holding on and providing you with light and heat. Outside, the rain continues to pour, the pitter patter of drops hitting the windows serving as the only source of ambient noise.
Your meal, while not as savory nor pleasing-looking, is enough fill your stomach. Ember, [Sound of Cork Popping] and Thurodim all fall sound asleep in this dreadful house, while Ozyre takes the first turn of watch duty.
(If you still want to do other things before taking the long rest or during your turn of watch, please feel free to do so. If you could also roll me a general wisdom check, to measure how easily you manage to fall asleep in these conditions. Once you’re all ready, you may gain all the benefits of a long rest.)
The massive blonde bearded and still fairly wet warrior chuckles at Ember's suggestion. "No nooks big enough to hold me little one. Just stay in a close nook and I will sleep better." He then says in a serious and sincere tone. Thurodim then gratefully accepts the blankets [Sound of Cork Popping] hands him, trying to find a place to rest with his bedroll and his blankets where he will be as protective of the others as possible. He then offers up what he brought from the cellar for the small but brave adventurers to eat, himself eating slowly in silence, seeming to listen to sounds of threats, making sure the little one is asleep before finally going to sleep himself.
Much of Ozyre's "watch" consists of him sitting under the table that he's marked as his sleeping quarters and inspecting the contents of his tinderbox, using a quill to scribble a couple pages of various notes. After a couple hours, he hides himself within his large blanket, emerging sans chainmail after a few minutes of as few clinks and clanks as he could manage (which is still quite a number). He tip toes over to Cork and gives the resting kenku a few light taps. "Your turn! Make sure to keep your eyes peeled the whole time." With that torch passed, he tip toes back under his blanket and instantly goes out like a light.
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
It takes some time for the little wizard to fall asleep in her place beneath the sofa. But it's with a practiced hand that she puppets shapes within the fire, a silent bedtime story told a thousand times. Of a little girl who did not lose her family. Of a granddaughter not left behind. The silhouette of a man and a woman form in the flames, holding a baby in their arms. An old gnome and a squirrel. And then a trio of adventurers appear.
Eerie against the silence of the house and the raging storm beyond its safety, she quietly sings herself to sleep--a haunting lullaby she can only remember whilst in the surreality of the In Between, that strange paradox of unconscious awareness when the things we've hidden in our minds are easier to find again.
"Hush little baby,
don't make a sound.
Mama and papa are holding you now.
Here in our arms,
you'll always be safe,
lay your sweet head and dream of the day.
Hush, hush.
Hush my sweet babe,
lay down your head and dream of the day.
And in the night,
there's nothing to fear.
Mama and papa will always be near.
Here in your heart,
we'll always stay,
lay your sweet head and dream of the day.
Hush, hush.
Hush my sweet babe,
Let my voice guide you to dreams of the day."
Her small voice trails off, lids fluttering shut as the comfort of the lyrics lull her fully to sleep.
Sometime during the night, drawn out from the safety of her hiding place, Ember emerges and pads over in a mass of blankets to curl up against Big Man's side. And Aganazzar takes up watch alongside Cork.
((WIS check: 3, and I oop))
Thurodim Wis check: 8
WIS: 13
Woken by Ozyre, [Sound of Cork Popping]'s head snaps up, alert, looking this way and that and blinking his beady black eyes.
He tosses a bit of wood to get the fire blazing again. He doesn't bother to redon his armor, instead just sitting on the floor in his night clothes with his back against the front door of the house and his longsword on the floor in front of him.
He passes the time alone in the dim light, mimicking the sounds the farm house makes... creaking beams and rustling roof tiles.
When Aganazzar comes to join him, he salutes the squirrel and scoots over to one side, making more room against the door.
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Aggie looks up at the kenku with his own beady eyes that belie a greater sentience behind them before he sits in the vacated space. His fluffy tail coils tightly around his body, ears flicking about for any sounds of trouble.
When his ward reaches out towards the hearth, pulling the flames towards herself as she sleepcasts, he scurries over to nudge and paw at her scarred hands, stopping the somatic component of the cantrip. With a tiny heave ho, he pulls the blanket up around her shoulders before disappearing briefly beneath it. When he emerges, it's with a small pouch that he drags with him back over to the door and deposits next to [Sound of Cork Popping], before taking up his post once more. Inside is an offering of a midnight snack: a variety of jerky.
It’s not the most comfortable night you’ve ever had, but eventually, morning comes, your rest having been undisturbed.
[Sound of Cork Popping] and Thurodim both manage to fall asleep despite yesterday’s unsettling events. It takes a little more time than usual however.
When Ozyre’s watch comes to an end, he falls asleep almost instantly, seemingly unbothered by what he experienced.
Ember has the hardest time falling asleep. Being inexperienced with dealing with death, or perhaps as a side effect of the creatures’ influence, the child tosses and turns for a while before eventually clearing her mind and singing herself a lullaby to sleep.
Morning finds you rested and ready. The sun, while blocked behind thick rain clouds, still offers to better lighting condition than when you arrived the day before. The fireplace is now extinguished, having burned through the logs you placed. The day is yours to do whatever you have planned.
As the massive blonde bearded warrior is woken up by [Sound of Cork Popping] for his shift he finds the little one curled up by his side, giving the birdman a nod to let him go back to his rest, then giving the little one a gentle pat as he looks down on her with protective eyes He then finds a comfortable position for his watch, making sure he is protecting all the small but very brave adventurers sleeping around him. I nagging feeling creeps up on him though that all the strength and endurance of the bear would not be enough for this witchcraft that Bart seemed to have dabbled with.
When morning comes, Thurodim gently rouses the others, having prepared a morning meal for them from what was left from last night. "We should find Bart." He says plainly as he gathers up his gear. "I will take care of those corpses later." He adds, standing up now, ready to move out.
Ember rubs the sleep from her eyes then yawns and stretches like a cat as Aggie holds on for dear life while she bends this way and that. Immediately upon rising, she goes over to the hearth and begins to rub ash and soot on her skin from the douted fire, making her look quite the mess. She makes quick work of breakfast and, ever the scavenger, peers at the others' plates just in case they have leftovers.
As Thurodim gathers his gear, she gathers up her own, strapping herself into her Grandpa's spellbook before hurrying down the hall and into the kitchen. There's a clatter of objects as she seems to be searching for something.
((Ember casts Mage Armor on herself. And any chance she can find some flour in the kitchen?
Investigation if needed: 19+5 24))
Once he wakes up, Ozyre wriggles around under his blanket for a while. After a few minutes of clinking, he emerges like a butterfly from a cocoon, except without all the metamorphosis stuff because he looks about the same as the night before, fully clad in chainmail. The only noticeable difference is that his hair is somehow even wilder.
"So the ruins are by the riverbank, and the riverbank is by the river, and the river is north, so the riverbank is north, so the ruins are north, and we're going to the ruins, so we're going north. Whenever people are ready, we can head off." Ozyre stands ready to move out in much the same way as Thurodim, right next to (and a fair few feet below) the hulking barbarian.
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
As the warriors of the party prepare to head out by putting on their armor and gathering their weapons, Ember heads into the kitchen and begins rifling through the cabinets, making a mess in the process. She eventually manages to find a large metallic jar containing a light white powder. Upon inspection, it does appear to be flour.
Victorious, Ember carries the jar above her head like a trophy as she dances her way back into the living room. "Okay! READY! I've got a jar of flour!" she announces proudly.