Korbiña nods to Asher "If my vote counts for you, replace the kobold corpse with him. That would give us the least trouble moving away from here quickly because I do fear that here is not a place we should rest. But I did not know Gregory well, so it is more up to you and Quartz if you like. You are already carrying Lelantus and I'm just too weak to carry anyone..."
[Hell, I'll decide for you. You decide to go to the settlement. One of you has been kidnapped, the other's dead, and the third's on the edge of death. Some of you got the shit kicked out of you more than the others. I like you guys, and I'd rather not kill you all this early.]
Ok, the place of safety it is. Korbiña shoulders her backpack and off we go. She steps carefully, feeling the wound and feeling weak from expending her energy, but some is left so she gathers what she has and presses on trying to keep her senses awake in case of danger...
You hear the familiar whispers of the veil's latent trickery, but shake it off immediately. Gregory dispelled it last time with fire. Perhaps fire would work to keep the illusions at bay...?
For a moment, Korbiña's eyes flash strangely...but then she shakes her head vigorously and takes a step back again... she drops her backpack and fishes out a torch and tinderbox, lighting the torch...
"Maybe this helps against the mists effects... and if not maybe it's the pain of being burnt... we can't be too careful with these mists..."
Then she reshoulders her backpack and reenters the mist... hopefully better prepared...
The flame flickers in the damp air, but her theory holds. The white veil parts like the opening of alabaster gates. The party begins their journey anew, albeit a few men shorter, delving deeper into this obscuring wood in the hope of finding respite for the long road ahead. As they walk, the veil begins to spill it's secrets in the soft orange light of the tiefling's torch. The first revelation comes as their path reveals itself -- the faintest signs of wildlife eke out of the bellowing mist, drawn by the warmth and light of an open flame. First come the insects, long and spindly with fine silvery wings. They flit above the torch, their wing beats mellowly stirring the impenetrable wall of white above, making hardly a sound as they skim the very edge of visibility in a sea of obscure white.
Then, one by one, with tiny pops, individual insects would disappear in a wisp of air, plucked from the surface of the sky by some unseen creature, not unlike watching carp plucking morsels of food from the surface of a pond. None in the party can see the culprits, but the soft flitting of feathery wings and whispering chirps against a largely quiet atmosphere betray their identity: tiny birds, not much larger than the insects they feed on, swoop about just outside the light's reach, plucking prey and singing muffled melodies beneath the smothering fog.
The air is still cold, but with the tree cover and the widening distance from the torrential river's edge, the moisture of the air seems to lighten somewhat. Looking to the ground, tiny flowers can be seen budding from familiar blue moss. If Lelantus were awake, he too would recognize it as the same moss found on the sign post. The flowers' petals seem crystalline and clear, like ice. They seem to glow as soft azure in the torchlight, shimmering like gems under the sun. The sun. Now that's something everyone misses. For all the perils and beauty this place may hold, the sun is the one commodity it lacks.
After walking for what feels like an hour, the party finds a second ley marker, fallen from its pedestal and deteriorated like itscounterpart, but appearing to have the same directions. Progress is being made. But where they find themselves one step ahead, the challenge before them threatens to push them two steps back: the marker is cast upon a three-way fork. One must lead to the settlement. Where the other two go, one can only dread.
The tiefling's eyes are sharp to the movements and tracks across all three paths. There are many, all various species, some bipedal, some quadripedal. All of them are relatively old...
...the freshest, however, appear canine. Large bipedal canines. A chill goes up her spine. Gnolls, big ones. Makes sense, in some way. There are hyenas here, after all. Their tracks emerge from the far right path, melding into the trees and wild brush just left of the path you've emerged from. You can't discern much else from the path itself, but perhaps the marker or even the pedestal it stood upon might have more clues to share.
[Anyone else want to take a crack at it? Korbiña surely can't be the only one to suffer all these dice rolls. I want you all to suffer equally, after all.]
"Hosh inkan re" Quartz says softly, remembering Daelen's words. He breathes in, deeply, liste s to tbe sound of hi bearhing hear, raises his hand to his chest and feels it beating. "I think we should go left." He proclaims, pointing that way.
"Alright, let's go left. I would just like to try something first... Quartz, would you place the ley marker back on its pedestal and try out different orientations... oftentimes when something is broken off, the parts stiff fit together when placed correctly and won't quite fit when the direction of placement isn't right..."
Quartz, will do as Korbiña asks, intuitively calling open his skill with mending, which some might call magic.
From the base comes sounds of grinding stone and crackling earth as the marker melds together once more. Though there's no wind to speak of, the sound of several trees shifting echoes throughout the clearing. Something in the air feels... lighter. The marker itself, though it gives off no light or energy, seems almost to glow in response to its restoration.
The message carved on the pedestal also begins to repair itself. As the stone regrows, the message sharpens, indicating clearly the path to the left. Then, as quick as it comes, the message disappears when the stone that was ground away by whoever carved that message is also replaced.
A soft warm hum fills the air. To Quartz, it resonates with his natural connection to the realm. Something about it feels restorative. Whatever this stone represents, its connection is still dead, but it seems able to draw latent energy from the air itself.
[Druids have the choice to use this energy in one of two ways:
-Energy becomes a pool of 8 health points, which can be divvied out to the group / used on themselves
Or
-Energy reinvigorates the druid, acting as a Short Rest for them alone.]
Quartz feels the energy coursing through his veins, as he allows himself to take in some of the healing power it offers, then he turns to tne rest of the group, before the ephemeral balm of nature dissipates, offering it to those in need of healing.
[50 copper, 26 silver.]
Korbiña nods to Asher "If my vote counts for you, replace the kobold corpse with him. That would give us the least trouble moving away from here quickly because I do fear that here is not a place we should rest. But I did not know Gregory well, so it is more up to you and Quartz if you like. You are already carrying Lelantus and I'm just too weak to carry anyone..."
<ooc: honestly don't care. Just hop9ng to move on. Flip a coin>
[Hell, I'll decide for you. You decide to go to the settlement. One of you has been kidnapped, the other's dead, and the third's on the edge of death. Some of you got the shit kicked out of you more than the others. I like you guys, and I'd rather not kill you all this early.]
[...I'd prefer you squirmed a little first.]
Ok, the place of safety it is. Korbiña shoulders her backpack and off we go. She steps carefully, feeling the wound and feeling weak from expending her energy, but some is left so she gathers what she has and presses on trying to keep her senses awake in case of danger...
[Sounds like Korbiña takes the lead.]
[The moment you touch the mist, roll a wisdom check]
Wisdom check 20
[Damn, I had one all set up too.]
You hear the familiar whispers of the veil's latent trickery, but shake it off immediately. Gregory dispelled it last time with fire. Perhaps fire would work to keep the illusions at bay...?
For a moment, Korbiña's eyes flash strangely...but then she shakes her head vigorously and takes a step back again... she drops her backpack and fishes out a torch and tinderbox, lighting the torch...
"Maybe this helps against the mists effects... and if not maybe it's the pain of being burnt... we can't be too careful with these mists..."
Then she reshoulders her backpack and reenters the mist... hopefully better prepared...
The flame flickers in the damp air, but her theory holds. The white veil parts like the opening of alabaster gates. The party begins their journey anew, albeit a few men shorter, delving deeper into this obscuring wood in the hope of finding respite for the long road ahead. As they walk, the veil begins to spill it's secrets in the soft orange light of the tiefling's torch. The first revelation comes as their path reveals itself -- the faintest signs of wildlife eke out of the bellowing mist, drawn by the warmth and light of an open flame. First come the insects, long and spindly with fine silvery wings. They flit above the torch, their wing beats mellowly stirring the impenetrable wall of white above, making hardly a sound as they skim the very edge of visibility in a sea of obscure white.
Then, one by one, with tiny pops, individual insects would disappear in a wisp of air, plucked from the surface of the sky by some unseen creature, not unlike watching carp plucking morsels of food from the surface of a pond. None in the party can see the culprits, but the soft flitting of feathery wings and whispering chirps against a largely quiet atmosphere betray their identity: tiny birds, not much larger than the insects they feed on, swoop about just outside the light's reach, plucking prey and singing muffled melodies beneath the smothering fog.
The air is still cold, but with the tree cover and the widening distance from the torrential river's edge, the moisture of the air seems to lighten somewhat. Looking to the ground, tiny flowers can be seen budding from familiar blue moss. If Lelantus were awake, he too would recognize it as the same moss found on the sign post. The flowers' petals seem crystalline and clear, like ice. They seem to glow as soft azure in the torchlight, shimmering like gems under the sun. The sun. Now that's something everyone misses. For all the perils and beauty this place may hold, the sun is the one commodity it lacks.
After walking for what feels like an hour, the party finds a second ley marker, fallen from its pedestal and deteriorated like itscounterpart, but appearing to have the same directions. Progress is being made. But where they find themselves one step ahead, the challenge before them threatens to push them two steps back: the marker is cast upon a three-way fork. One must lead to the settlement. Where the other two go, one can only dread.
"Oh no..." Korbiña sighs and crouches down at the fork trying to make out any tracks
Survival check 21
[In case you prefer Investigation, just substract one from the result above]
The tiefling's eyes are sharp to the movements and tracks across all three paths. There are many, all various species, some bipedal, some quadripedal. All of them are relatively old...
...the freshest, however, appear canine. Large bipedal canines. A chill goes up her spine. Gnolls, big ones. Makes sense, in some way. There are hyenas here, after all. Their tracks emerge from the far right path, melding into the trees and wild brush just left of the path you've emerged from. You can't discern much else from the path itself, but perhaps the marker or even the pedestal it stood upon might have more clues to share.
[Anyone else want to take a crack at it? Korbiña surely can't be the only one to suffer all these dice rolls. I want you all to suffer equally, after all.]
"Hosh inkan re" Quartz says softly, remembering Daelen's words. He breathes in, deeply, liste s to tbe sound of hi bearhing hear, raises his hand to his chest and feels it beating. "I think we should go left." He proclaims, pointing that way.
"Alright, let's go left. I would just like to try something first... Quartz, would you place the ley marker back on its pedestal and try out different orientations... oftentimes when something is broken off, the parts stiff fit together when placed correctly and won't quite fit when the direction of placement isn't right..."
Quartz, will do as Korbiña asks, intuitively calling open his skill with mending, which some might call magic.
From the base comes sounds of grinding stone and crackling earth as the marker melds together once more. Though there's no wind to speak of, the sound of several trees shifting echoes throughout the clearing. Something in the air feels... lighter. The marker itself, though it gives off no light or energy, seems almost to glow in response to its restoration.
The message carved on the pedestal also begins to repair itself. As the stone regrows, the message sharpens, indicating clearly the path to the left. Then, as quick as it comes, the message disappears when the stone that was ground away by whoever carved that message is also replaced.
A soft warm hum fills the air. To Quartz, it resonates with his natural connection to the realm. Something about it feels restorative. Whatever this stone represents, its connection is still dead, but it seems able to draw latent energy from the air itself.
[Druids have the choice to use this energy in one of two ways:
-Energy becomes a pool of 8 health points, which can be divvied out to the group / used on themselves
Or
-Energy reinvigorates the druid, acting as a Short Rest for them alone.]
<HP pool. He'll take 3. Who wants the other 5?>
Quartz feels the energy coursing through his veins, as he allows himself to take in some of the healing power it offers, then he turns to tne rest of the group, before the ephemeral balm of nature dissipates, offering it to those in need of healing.
asher could use some if it if Korbiña dosent need it
The healing g energy flies fro. QUARTZ'S fingertips as he points toward Asher.