The massive blonde bearded warrior watches with some worry as the weary-looking girl keeps helping out with the digging. "I would feel much better if you took a break and recovered a bit under that oak over there little one. I don't doubt your will but you really do deserve a rest after this ordeal." He says softly with a warm smile now, and although the girl had proved quite capable during their mission he still felt a responsibility for her, at least until she was reunited with that uncle.
"I don't need a break!" Ember insists, putting even more gusto into digging as though to prove that fact. The Hand disappears completely as her concentration shifts to flinging dirt, not unlike a dog digs a hole, but she eventually straightens and heavily exhales.
Glancing over at the oak tree Thurodim pointed out, she wipes a forearm across her eyes. "I'm just gonna.. check that tree. For bugs for Cork." The little wizard takes a few steps then looks over her shoulder, "It's not 'cause I need a break, kay?" before walking off. Aganazzar gives Big Man a world-weary look, as if to say "Kids", then scurries after her.
It's not long before she's curled up amongst the roots with her familiar, napping.
((If she manages to get a short rest in, I'll pop an Arcane Recovery to regain a spell slot!))
Thurodim meets the look from the squirrel, nods and chuckles. He keeps digging, stopping to draw a relieved sigh as he notices the fiery girl finally coming to rest. Smiling to himself he continues to prepare the graves, then carefully moving all the bodies into them and filling them up before finally joining Ember under the tree, letting Mr. Bleeches out for a snack, then leaning his massive frame back against the tree, soon resting peacefully, the rest of the just.
(Short rest before some sort of funeral ceremony together? :-)
The process of bringing the bodies outside and digging out the holes takes the party the better part of two hours (*I’m assuming you feel free to use the gardening tools in the shed to help in that regard ;)*). Despite the joy you may feel for succeeding in taking care of the tear, it’s a relatively gloomy and sober endeavor. One by one, you place the bodies down into the dirt to buried, making sure to be gentle with the already poorly preserved corpses. Once you’re done, you sit down under the shade of a tall oak tree for a well deserved respite.
Those of you still awake would notice a pair of crows coming to perch near the grave site. (Anyone that wants to can roll a religion check)
If you roll a 15 or higher:
You remember an old superstition about crows being messengers and guides of the souls for Noctis, the Crowfather, god of the dead. It’s believed that whenever a body is properly put to rest, crows show up to claim the souls of the deceased and bring them back to their master. Once in the Crowfather’s realm, they may enjoy the peace of eternal rest.
Meanwhile, Cork’s study of the subterranean bug life reveals various types of insects that are fairly common in the Empire, as well as a few rarer types of beetles.
Ember:
During your nap, you begin to see things in your dreams. You feel your body being lighter than usual and you can’t seem to feel the ground beneath your feet, but you don’t feel like you’re falling. All around you is a vast expanse of wispy colorful dust, as far as your eye can see. You’re attuned enough with the arcane to feel that essence of this dust is magical. It’s beautiful, yet it also feels disorienting. It feels like time and space don’t work properly, and you’re just floating around. Every now and then, you also see small but bright sparks of light on the horizon. They disappear as quickly as they appear.
You’re not quite sure how much time passes, but you eventually hear something disturb the relative silence of this place. It sounds like a voice, echoing through the void. At first, it’s barely perceptible, but as it repeats the same phrase, you recognize the voice. How could you not? You’ve heard it so much growing up. It beckons: "Help! Someone, help!". But before you have time to react, you are shunted out of this void and back awake.
(If you desire, you may all gain the benefits of a short rest)
As the others take their short rest, [Sound of Cork Popping] quietly recites old lectures on arthropods in a pair of distinct voices (one an old woman, the other an even older man). It's very dry material but as long as you're not taking notes, it is relaxing to listen to.
Song of Rest+1d6 HPPHB, pg. 54
If you or any friendly creatures who can hear your performance regain hit points at the end of the short rest by spending one or more Hit Dice, each of those creatures regains an extra 1d6 hit points.
Cork also takes a SHORT rest, spending 1 hit dice and regaining his sole missing HP.
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
Ozyre takes some time to inscribe some phrases in the strange new tongue that he just learned on the resting places of the deceased. Directly over, in fact; no tombstone or anything, just an axe cutting a path through the dirt. The calligraphy is fairly impressive, especially considering the materials. "If I could get some tools, I'd like to make some actual headstones, but there's no hurry and there's certainly no shame in this more natural method. Odds are, it's traditional somewhere." With a half-decent job done, Ozyre takes a seat by the tree and listens to Cork chatter on with himself about some very interesting chitinous animals.
Short Rest: 1 hit die (Song of Rest): 6 (1 + 2 + 3) points of healing
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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)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
The massive blonde bearded warrior gives the diminutive giant an appreciative nod for his contribution. He then takes note of the pair of crows. He finds the voices produced by the birdman remarkably soothing as he then drifts off into sleep.
Ember startles awake, shouting a distressed, "Grampa!" as Aggie is spooked off her lap. She scrabbles up the oak for a better view, the confusion between vision and reality muddling her thoughts. "I'm coming, Grampa! Where are you?"
Aganazzar scurries up the tree after her, chittering with worry all the while.
((When she calms down, is there anything she can think of that might explain why she had the vision? Or where she was in that floating space? Arcana/History: Also, Acrobatics if needed lol! 9+5 14))
After having been snoring loud enough to have the ground shake, Thurodim gets impressively quickly on his feet as Ember calls out. The massive bearded warrior looks around with Skullcrusher in his hands, then calming down as his mind catches up with events. "Grampa?" He mutters, glancing over at the fire-haired girl.
“My grandpa! He was calling for help,” she says from the branch, the wood threatening to light as her hands begin to to smolder, the threads of the Weave tangling with her emotions.
“Didn’t you hear him?” she asks, Aggie tugging at her patchwork dress.
"Umm...no...but I was sleeping."Thurodim says a bit sheepishly, putting down his mighty maul and scratching his neck. "You sure you didn't dream this?" The massive bearded warrior says a bit tentatively after a while. "I will help you find him little one, I promise."
Ember easily climbs the oak tree with all the grace of a mongoose.
Perhaps it’s because of the sudden surge of emotion, but Ember can’t really tell the location in her dream, although as she calms down, she understands that she is no longer in that place. She’s back in reality.
As for what could have triggered this vision, she’s not certain. It could be from a great many things. The arcane is a long and complex study. Despite her considerable talent, her young age could explain why she lacks understanding of every aspects of this field.
The group now rested and feeling fresher, you all stand under (or in for some of you) the oak tree casting shade on the now "marked" graves of the former tenants of this farmhouse. It is currently early to mid afternoon by your estimations.
From somewhere, Cork has retrieved his rolling chest, which rests on the ground by his clawed feet. He raises both of his black index fingers and then turns them simultaneously to make an exaggerated ---> motion in the direction of town.
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
"A dream?" Ember repeats, her thick brows furrowing. "I dunno..."
Like a monkey, she hops down from the branch onto Big Man's back then to the ground. "It didn't feel like one... I was somewhere. Like a biiiigg open space," she stretches her arms wide. "And it was full of this dust-stuff. Magic dust-stuff. And there were these lights! And they'd spark up and then they'd just poof away. Like stars goin' out! And it was real nice and I was floating BUT THEN--"
The little wizard takes a deep breath and scoops Aggie up to hug against her chest. "Then... I heard Grandpa yelling. For somebody to..." her voice gets quiet, "help. And he sounded scared." She starts to meander in the direction Cork pointed, "I've never heard him sound scared before..."
It still sounded very much like a dream to the massive blonde bearded warrior but what did he know about witchery. "We will find and help your grandfather."Thurodim says with a reassuring pat on the little one's back, then nodding to the birdman, and unless there was anything else to do by the graves or at the farm he would set off back towards Dawn's Point to report to their fuzzy client.
[Sound of Cork Popping] gives a big thumbs up and repeats, in Thurodim's voice, "... we will find and help your grandfather...". Then he grabs the handle of his chest and begins the long walk back to Dawns Point, only stopping if the others don't follow.
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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
Ozyre scratches at his scruffy chin. "Well, now we know that your grandpa is in a situation where he can cast spells, or at least do some kind of magic. And we also know that he isn't hiding, even if he's hidden. Plus there's a good chance he can do whatever he did at some point in the future, what with how magic works. And of course Brugg promised information on our return. If we head back to town and get plenty of sleep along the way, I bet we could learn a fair few things about this mystery."
Ozyre trots along in the same direction as the others. He comments to Ember,"Everybody needs help sometimes. Your grandpa is really lucky, though, because he's got you to help him. I'm sure we'll find him."
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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)
Ember puffs up proudly at Ozyre's words. "He does have me," she says, mollified, though she takes a mighty sniff to stifle any threatening tears. "But... I have you three," the little pyromancer gives Ozyre (or rather his armor) a tight squeeze then looks to Big Man and Cork, "and I think that makes me even luckier."
The young girl, all scraped knees and make believe, gazes thoughtfully up (and down) at her companions. "True family is found with the ones who choose you," she says and, briefly, her amber eyes become a window to the wise and loving soul within. Then, with a big, toothy grin and fears forgotten, Ember skips along to Cork's rolling chest and climbs atop for a ride. She scrounges around in her pockets, finding a dubious looking bit of mystery jerky to snack on, and then starts to sing the same song from the start of their journey.
As the group leaves the farmhouse to return to town, they turn one last time to look at this once haunted home. You’re not sure if it’s a trick of the eye or if it’s real, but when you look back at the graves, you swear you see a translucent figure with red hair waving at you before vanishing completely.
You walk for a long time. It feels like such a long time since you’ve walked that path, even if it was only yesterday. It looks better and more serene now that the rain has dissipated. The birds are chirping and the leaves are rustling in the wind. (You may describe what your character is doing during travel, but please include a perception check in it.)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
The blonde bearded warrior gives the now peaceful spirit of Bart the farmer a nod and a small smile as he leaves, taking point as the group of mostly small but quite brave adventurers returns to Dawn Point after completing their quest, a content smile on his bearded face as he lumbers forth in a steady pace, looking forward to a tankard of beer at the tavern after reporting to their furry client. With a deep basso he picks up the sea shanty the little one sang earlier, seeming in quite a good mood considering the harrowing adventure they all been through.
Perception: 14
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The massive blonde bearded warrior watches with some worry as the weary-looking girl keeps helping out with the digging. "I would feel much better if you took a break and recovered a bit under that oak over there little one. I don't doubt your will but you really do deserve a rest after this ordeal." He says softly with a warm smile now, and although the girl had proved quite capable during their mission he still felt a responsibility for her, at least until she was reunited with that uncle.
"I don't need a break!" Ember insists, putting even more gusto into digging as though to prove that fact. The Hand disappears completely as her concentration shifts to flinging dirt, not unlike a dog digs a hole, but she eventually straightens and heavily exhales.
Glancing over at the oak tree Thurodim pointed out, she wipes a forearm across her eyes. "I'm just gonna.. check that tree. For bugs for Cork." The little wizard takes a few steps then looks over her shoulder, "It's not 'cause I need a break, kay?" before walking off. Aganazzar gives Big Man a world-weary look, as if to say "Kids", then scurries after her.
It's not long before she's curled up amongst the roots with her familiar, napping.
((If she manages to get a short rest in, I'll pop an Arcane Recovery to regain a spell slot!))
Thurodim meets the look from the squirrel, nods and chuckles. He keeps digging, stopping to draw a relieved sigh as he notices the fiery girl finally coming to rest. Smiling to himself he continues to prepare the graves, then carefully moving all the bodies into them and filling them up before finally joining Ember under the tree, letting Mr. Bleeches out for a snack, then leaning his massive frame back against the tree, soon resting peacefully, the rest of the just.
(Short rest before some sort of funeral ceremony together? :-)
The process of bringing the bodies outside and digging out the holes takes the party the better part of two hours (*I’m assuming you feel free to use the gardening tools in the shed to help in that regard ;)*). Despite the joy you may feel for succeeding in taking care of the tear, it’s a relatively gloomy and sober endeavor. One by one, you place the bodies down into the dirt to buried, making sure to be gentle with the already poorly preserved corpses. Once you’re done, you sit down under the shade of a tall oak tree for a well deserved respite.
Those of you still awake would notice a pair of crows coming to perch near the grave site. (Anyone that wants to can roll a religion check)
If you roll a 15 or higher:
You remember an old superstition about crows being messengers and guides of the souls for Noctis, the Crowfather, god of the dead. It’s believed that whenever a body is properly put to rest, crows show up to claim the souls of the deceased and bring them back to their master. Once in the Crowfather’s realm, they may enjoy the peace of eternal rest.
Meanwhile, Cork’s study of the subterranean bug life reveals various types of insects that are fairly common in the Empire, as well as a few rarer types of beetles.
Ember:
During your nap, you begin to see things in your dreams. You feel your body being lighter than usual and you can’t seem to feel the ground beneath your feet, but you don’t feel like you’re falling. All around you is a vast expanse of wispy colorful dust, as far as your eye can see. You’re attuned enough with the arcane to feel that essence of this dust is magical. It’s beautiful, yet it also feels disorienting. It feels like time and space don’t work properly, and you’re just floating around. Every now and then, you also see small but bright sparks of light on the horizon. They disappear as quickly as they appear.
You’re not quite sure how much time passes, but you eventually hear something disturb the relative silence of this place. It sounds like a voice, echoing through the void. At first, it’s barely perceptible, but as it repeats the same phrase, you recognize the voice. How could you not? You’ve heard it so much growing up. It beckons: "Help! Someone, help!". But before you have time to react, you are shunted out of this void and back awake.
(If you desire, you may all gain the benefits of a short rest)
As the others take their short rest, [Sound of Cork Popping] quietly recites old lectures on arthropods in a pair of distinct voices (one an old woman, the other an even older man). It's very dry material but as long as you're not taking notes, it is relaxing to listen to.
If you or any friendly creatures who can hear your performance regain hit points at the end of the short rest by spending one or more Hit Dice, each of those creatures regains an extra 1d6![]()
hit points.
Cork also takes a SHORT rest, spending 1 hit dice and regaining his sole missing HP.
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
Ozyre takes some time to inscribe some phrases in the strange new tongue that he just learned on the resting places of the deceased. Directly over, in fact; no tombstone or anything, just an axe cutting a path through the dirt. The calligraphy is fairly impressive, especially considering the materials. "If I could get some tools, I'd like to make some actual headstones, but there's no hurry and there's certainly no shame in this more natural method. Odds are, it's traditional somewhere." With a half-decent job done, Ozyre takes a seat by the tree and listens to Cork chatter on with himself about some very interesting chitinous animals.
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)
The massive blonde bearded warrior gives the diminutive giant an appreciative nod for his contribution. He then takes note of the pair of crows. He finds the voices produced by the birdman remarkably soothing as he then drifts off into sleep.
Religion: 11
Hp regained: 25 + 2
Ember startles awake, shouting a distressed, "Grampa!" as Aggie is spooked off her lap. She scrabbles up the oak for a better view, the confusion between vision and reality muddling her thoughts. "I'm coming, Grampa! Where are you?"
Aganazzar scurries up the tree after her, chittering with worry all the while.
((When she calms down, is there anything she can think of that might explain why she had the vision? Or where she was in that floating space? Arcana/History:
Also, Acrobatics if needed lol! 9+5 14))
After having been snoring loud enough to have the ground shake, Thurodim gets impressively quickly on his feet as Ember calls out. The massive bearded warrior looks around with Skullcrusher in his hands, then calming down as his mind catches up with events. "Grampa?" He mutters, glancing over at the fire-haired girl.
“My grandpa! He was calling for help,” she says from the branch, the wood threatening to light as her hands begin to to smolder, the threads of the Weave tangling with her emotions.
“Didn’t you hear him?” she asks, Aggie tugging at her patchwork dress.
((Arcana: 13))
"Umm...no...but I was sleeping." Thurodim says a bit sheepishly, putting down his mighty maul and scratching his neck.
"You sure you didn't dream this?" The massive bearded warrior says a bit tentatively after a while. "I will help you find him little one, I promise."
Ember easily climbs the oak tree with all the grace of a mongoose.
Perhaps it’s because of the sudden surge of emotion, but Ember can’t really tell the location in her dream, although as she calms down, she understands that she is no longer in that place. She’s back in reality.
As for what could have triggered this vision, she’s not certain. It could be from a great many things. The arcane is a long and complex study. Despite her considerable talent, her young age could explain why she lacks understanding of every aspects of this field.
The group now rested and feeling fresher, you all stand under (or in for some of you) the oak tree casting shade on the now "marked" graves of the former tenants of this farmhouse. It is currently early to mid afternoon by your estimations.
From somewhere, Cork has retrieved his rolling chest, which rests on the ground by his clawed feet. He raises both of his black index fingers and then turns them simultaneously to make an exaggerated ---> motion in the direction of town.
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
"A dream?" Ember repeats, her thick brows furrowing. "I dunno..."
Like a monkey, she hops down from the branch onto Big Man's back then to the ground. "It didn't feel like one... I was somewhere. Like a biiiigg open space," she stretches her arms wide. "And it was full of this dust-stuff. Magic dust-stuff. And there were these lights! And they'd spark up and then they'd just poof away. Like stars goin' out! And it was real nice and I was floating BUT THEN--"
The little wizard takes a deep breath and scoops Aggie up to hug against her chest. "Then... I heard Grandpa yelling. For somebody to..." her voice gets quiet, "help. And he sounded scared." She starts to meander in the direction Cork pointed, "I've never heard him sound scared before..."
It still sounded very much like a dream to the massive blonde bearded warrior but what did he know about witchery. "We will find and help your grandfather." Thurodim says with a reassuring pat on the little one's back, then nodding to the birdman, and unless there was anything else to do by the graves or at the farm he would set off back towards Dawn's Point to report to their fuzzy client.
[Sound of Cork Popping] gives a big thumbs up and repeats, in Thurodim's voice, "... we will find and help your grandfather...". Then he grabs the handle of his chest and begins the long walk back to Dawns Point, only stopping if the others don't follow.
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
Ozyre scratches at his scruffy chin. "Well, now we know that your grandpa is in a situation where he can cast spells, or at least do some kind of magic. And we also know that he isn't hiding, even if he's hidden. Plus there's a good chance he can do whatever he did at some point in the future, what with how magic works. And of course Brugg promised information on our return. If we head back to town and get plenty of sleep along the way, I bet we could learn a fair few things about this mystery."
Ozyre trots along in the same direction as the others. He comments to Ember, "Everybody needs help sometimes. Your grandpa is really lucky, though, because he's got you to help him. I'm sure we'll find him."
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)
Ember puffs up proudly at Ozyre's words. "He does have me," she says, mollified, though she takes a mighty sniff to stifle any threatening tears. "But... I have you three," the little pyromancer gives Ozyre (or rather his armor) a tight squeeze then looks to Big Man and Cork, "and I think that makes me even luckier."
The young girl, all scraped knees and make believe, gazes thoughtfully up (and down) at her companions. "True family is found with the ones who choose you," she says and, briefly, her amber eyes become a window to the wise and loving soul within. Then, with a big, toothy grin and fears forgotten, Ember skips along to Cork's rolling chest and climbs atop for a ride. She scrounges around in her pockets, finding a dubious looking bit of mystery jerky to snack on, and then starts to sing the same song from the start of their journey.
As the group leaves the farmhouse to return to town, they turn one last time to look at this once haunted home. You’re not sure if it’s a trick of the eye or if it’s real, but when you look back at the graves, you swear you see a translucent figure with red hair waving at you before vanishing completely.
You walk for a long time. It feels like such a long time since you’ve walked that path, even if it was only yesterday. It looks better and more serene now that the rain has dissipated. The birds are chirping and the leaves are rustling in the wind. (You may describe what your character is doing during travel, but please include a perception check in it.)
The blonde bearded warrior gives the now peaceful spirit of Bart the farmer a nod and a small smile as he leaves, taking point as the group of mostly small but quite brave adventurers returns to Dawn Point after completing their quest, a content smile on his bearded face as he lumbers forth in a steady pace, looking forward to a tankard of beer at the tavern after reporting to their furry client. With a deep basso he picks up the sea shanty the little one sang earlier, seeming in quite a good mood considering the harrowing adventure they all been through.
Perception: 14