(@Ori: No need for attack rolls, we can RP this kill.)
The beast lies on the forest floor, its once powerful body now weak and trembling, its blood seeping into the earth. Its breaths were shallow, each one a struggle, as its malevolent eyes, filled with pain, flickered open and shut. CRAP had tracked the panther through the Quivering Forest, following the trail of blood, unique scent, and broken branches. Now with the beast next to them, they see the extent of its injuries and know what needs to be done. The displacer beast's eyes met Doozey's, a moment of understanding passing between them. With a heavy heart, the hunter drew his weapon of choice. A bullet flies, a soft thud ends its.
Neya had stood nearby, in case a second blow was needed, but such effort does not come to pass. Silence enveloped the forest once more, while CRAP stands in quiet reverence.
(OOC: Doozey can give me a survival check for that pelt. The villager has been thoroughly investigated, so the party is welcome to collect any items listed above in post#451.)
"Fine." Denae answers a question no one asked. "But after you collect the pelt, we should make our way back to the path. We have only accounted for half of the six villagers so far and that is not even including Halvin. And at this rate, I'm not so sure we'll be able to reach the elves before the day is over anymore."
At the mention of Halvin, a very quiet Pipyap reveals his presence again, albeit only by sound. "I thought we were coming in here for Halvin first and everything else second. I am taking huge risks here!"
"I hate to... sort of... agree with the fiend, but so are we. I am not so sure the elves would look kindly on us if they knew our merry group of five was actually a second hexad entering their forest. Who knows how they feel about fiends..." Denae appears glad to have found another villager but she doesn't seem too happy about having to wait for a whole beast to be skinned. However, she has already voiced her reluctant agreement, so she'll fall in line for now.
While she waits for Doozey to do the skinning, she closes her eyes and lets the air around her pick up speed. Denae is controlling the wind, even as non-existent as it is in this forest, ordering it to tell her its secrets, well, a very specific kind of secret. Fallen leaves begin to swirl around the half-elf as her hair almost takes flight. She hums, her feet leave the ground by and inch or two. Half a minute pass before the small gust subsides and the ranger lands safely back on firm soil. "No luck,"she clarifies. "There are no portals to the Feywild within a mile of us. We are still far."
Once Doozey is done with the arduous task of skinning a feline monstrosity of considerable size, CRAP readies to leave... Unless they have other steps they would like to take at this juncture.
(OOC: Are you picking up the third villager's belongings?)
"You both make very good points. Perhaps we should switch objectives to try and locate Halvin. Pipyap's demeanor and insistence might make negotiations difficult," Neya says. "I guess that means we will need to try and locate the area of the fey we suppose he went to meet?"
Boozey remained pointedly mute as Denae and Pipyap air their various grievances and concerns. In fact, he doesn't so much as look at them, or the rest of the party for that matter while skinning the beast. But every now and then some particularly stubborn section of the work left him growling or huffing. Moments that suspiciously coincided with those involving people showing some leaning towards altering the groups course.
Nevertheless, Boozey is nothing if not diligant and driven to see his work done, and so he continued to hold his tongue till the end of it. "There. Mostly done. Could use a bit more time for tanning work couldn't ya? But time not be on our side." He speaks as if talking to the hide. Then, he sucks in a deep breath in through his nose, shook his head once, and then slowly turns to the others. "I take I'm about to be outvoted again, hm? Not that I don't agree with returning to the path, of course. But moreso on where to go next. 'cause I very much would like to continue onward to the elves. But, I have neither the wherewithal or patience to argue right now, wasting more precious time--"He suddenly whips around to face Denae, holding a clawed finger up in a halting gesture. "Don't! You. Start."He says, cutting the woman if she so much as hints at meaning to bring up his own impromptu skinning session.
Boozey then turns again to the others. "... So, if you lot all insist on returning to the crossroad and..." He pauses to take a slow and deep breath. "-paying 'Ya-ya' a more immediate visit, then so be it. But as Big Mama Yondalla as my witness, I will not leave the path again for anything less than dealing with me wayward kin or the hag or the elves or King Witchthorn himself. One way, or another. Do we at least have an understanding on that point?" He asks the group at large calmly enough, but anyone looking closely can see his grip tightening on the bloody hide in hand. "Finding the other villagers is important. I understand that -- I. GET. That... But when all we can expect from some detour is corpses, they can bloody well wait a wee bit longer. Long enough, at the very least, to actually get some measure of permission from the locals to conduct a more thorough search. Maybe even their assistance, should we do them a proper good turn. "
"But... you..." Denae doesn't manage to get a third word out before being shushed by Doozey's claw. Once the halfling is done with his piece, the half-elf takes a deep breath and renews her effort: "Very well, no more side business. I was about to agree with my sister. A turn-around might not be the worst idea, and Mr. Badger's terms are reasonable enough. With some luck, the other three villagers, or at least their bodies, can be found at our destinations."
Pipyap gloats: "HA! And who doubted my devilish charms. One sentence is all that I need to beguile you into focusing on my interests!" CRAP can only assume the red-devil is performing some invisible celebratory gestures with his arms: "HALVIN, HERE WE COME!"
After rolling her eyes, Denae looks around to check if Utar and Neya are in agreement.
(OOC: Double checking on this: are you picking up the third villager's belongings?)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"I think Doozey's right. From what we've seen the villagers are dead, the missing ones are most likely dead. Halvin isn't and he's a chance at some answers."
Utar will kneel by the third villager, looking for distinguishing marks and will take their belongings with the party when they leave.
Does he find anything on the body as he gives it a pat down?
Making sure he is committing to memory any indication of who this man is, Utar notices that the man is missing his left picky finger. The wound is healed over and the scar tissue shows signs of wear. This is clearly an old wound that has been present during whatever manual work this man used to practice in his daily life.
The cleric of Torm finds no other belonging on the corpse in addition to the ones he had already identified and is in the process of collecting.
With some general agreement achieved, in majority if not unanimity, CRAP prepares to depart the clearing and return to the path. Denae offers to lead the way, humble-bragging about her familiarity with forests in general. That said, the half-elf recognizes Doozey's role in finding the displacer beasts' den so efficiently, and offers to take a supporting role: "Will you lead the way again, Mr. Badger?"
(OOC: If the party would prefer to let Denae take the lead this time, one of you can roll on her behalf. She does not have the highest bonus, she gets a +2 to survival checks, but can roll them with advantage while in a forest (I forgot to mention this last time this offer was made.) Other benefits of her Natural Explorer feature include: difficult terrain doesn’t slow your group’s travel, your group can’t become lost except by magical means, you remain alert to danger even when you are engaged in another activity, you can move stealthily at a normal pace (while alone), you find twice as much food while foraging, and while tracking creatures, you learn the exact number, sizes, and how long ago they passed through the area. All of these additional benefits only kick in after traveling for an hour, and I am resetting that counter after the fight and chase scene, so it is up to you folks whether you want to use someone's higher bonus to the roll.)
Boozey for his part just shook his head and sighed at Pipyap's antics, but otherwise continued working on packing up the hide. But once that's out of the way, a glance then is given to the remains. Though almost a moment later the stoutling is looking away, rubbing his belly and grumbling something under breath. Biscuit is less reluctant in claiming his own prize and then some from the bloody mess, and before long was padding his way over to Boozey side once more with a femur with plenty of meat left on the bone.
"So we're all in agreement then? Good. And yes, I'll.... You know what, Ms. Denae. You take point this time, and I'll watch our rear."He'd say as much.
"Very well," Denae says. She rises to the challenge and guides the crap out of CRAP back to the path. Denae uses the matted foliage left in the wake of the pursuit of the displacer beast as a tool in easily finding the group's way back. Nonetheless, even if direction and pace are not an issue, CRAP notices that they all disagree on one point about the trek: how long it takes the party to get back to the desired path. Your guesses vary from minutes to hours, and each one of you is entirely adamant that their estimate is the most accurate.
Regardless of the disagreement, what matters most at this moment is that you are indeed back at the path. You look down the way you have been calling "forward," the way towards Greenhall, and sigh. You then turn to the way you've identify as "backward" and begin to move. "To Halvin!" Pipyap says excitedly. Based on the previous day's hike, you know you'll have to set up camp before you can make your way back to the fork on the road where you met Seranolla. As you begin this next leg of the journey, Denae makes sure to begin planning early: "Save your energy. We'll need to spend an extra night on this path just to get back to the intersection that will lead us down the other path. If you have anything in mind that can help us avoid being bothered by those strange woodland critters of the previous night, I suggest you start thinking about it now. Whatever that was, it was plenty strange."
Though a touch confused over the timer differential, the halfling of the group doesn't add to any further discussion on the matter. In fact, he's fairly quick to put it out of his mind, believing the strangeness to either be a quirk of the forest due to feywild influence, or another possible means of interference from the hag. The latter of which the group had experienced and survived before, even if it might've nearly cost them in the end.
"Fraid I at least have nothing of the sort. Best I can manage is to string together a charm to alert us of their presence, though, eh, it's not best suited for dealing critters so small. Not unless don't mind being woken up by every bug that happens to flutter through the area on top of everything else." Doozey finds himself admitting later on. "Best 'advice' I can give though is not to let them sucker you in to leave'n the camp for any reason. Same for any, ehh, odd sounds or lackthereof any of ya might be hearing on watch tonight. And yes, I know normally something like that would go without saying, but in this forest it, uhm.... pays to be a touch more conscientious of such things as a, uhh, means to better ward off any charming thrown ya way."He warns the group.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
"Fair enough," Denae responds. "I can perhaps recruit one such critter to our side if the need arises, but that might be the extent of my soft skills. For now, let us just continue to follow the path until it is time to camp. Keep your wits about you."
The group makes their way down the forest path, your footsteps a rhythmic crunch on the leaf-strewn trail. The air is cool but not fresh, carrying the earthy scent of pine and damp soil. Sunlight filters through the dense canopy with difficulty, casting strange shadows on the ground. All the walking eventually has CRAP moving in a loose line, chatting softly and pointing out curious sights and strange sounds: sudden rustle of leaves, unexpected chirping of insects, and the distant gurgle of a never-to-be-found stream.
Eventually, you realize you must have been walking for many hours, and then arrive at the follow-up realization that the time to call it a day is upon you.
(OOC: Please make preparations for a long rest and roll for you watches.)
After hiking for what feels like an eternity, Utar is glad to finally be stopping. The half-orc is dead on his feet and if it wasn't for the learned muscle memory of setting camp taking over, he might have simply crawled underneath a bedroll and hoped to find morning.
Knowing he's still a watch away from some rest, Utar starts drawing up a watch list, offering to take the first.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Even without the influence of his hybrid state holding sway throughout the majority of the trek back down the path, Doozey remained as taciturn as ever, if not moreso since the decision to change course. At best he can manage a half-hearted attempt at keeping his part of some idle conversation. But with so many worries gnawing at the back of his mind like a beaver desperate to see a damn complete, still becomes the halfling's tongue all together, least those worries found their way to his tongue and sowed naught but discord.
With a sigh of relief later that day, Doozey eagerly set to work setting up silent wards, tried to put together a rough tanning rack for the displacer beast hide, and then swiftly anything else was seen to that night, practically dove into his sleeping pallet. Though before all that, he would have encouraged maintaining a small campfire throughout the night, if for no other reason than a touch more warmth.
Doozey Perception: 27. (same watch schedule as last)
CRAP has been almost entirely hiking for the last two days now, if not a bit more than that. When the time to set up camp arrives, it must feel like a bit of a blessing, even if the environment is less than welcoming. Focusing on that last detail, Doozey sets up silent wards.
Utar volunteers for the first watch and soon finds himself standing at the edge of the camp casting his eyes over the group. The half-orc's silhouette is outlined by the flickering light of the campfire the party's halfling insisted on lighting up this time around. Utar's keen eyes scanned the dark treeline, every shadow and movement scrutinized with the precision born of experience. The dense forest loomed around the camp, its trees standing like silent sentinels. At the end of it all, though, Utar has very little to report. He makes his way to his bedroll, hoping to lay down and close his eyes, but it is then that he realizes he is not going to be blessed with an uneventful watch after all. His bedroll is covered in honey, both inside and out, and a multitude of ants, those of the biting kind, have already claimed it.
Due to Doozey's mental alarm, he is also awake now, realizing something breached the perimeter of the camp. He realizes the result of such intrusion about the same time as Utar.
@Utar: Before we move on, what would you like to do?
Mushing his own face with his hands, Utar sighs long and hard. Wouldn't be the first time he's used a rock for a pillow. Tossing the bedroll from the tent, he checks for any remaining ants. If the swarm remains, he's going to find a comfortable spot by the fire, if not, he'll bed himself down in the tent.
(@Ori: Feel free to retroactively let us know if Doozey would like to do anything in the scenario above.)
Utar finds that it is very hard to eliminate every single ant left around searching for honey, thus deciding to find a spot outside by the campfire. As Neya stands to start her own watch, she finds confront in the idea of being able to see her half-orc friend nearby.
Unlike the Tormite, Neya's biggest discovery during her watch come at the very top of it. As the warrior puts her boots back on to go outside and begin her watch, she feels a thousand prickles of pain shoot up her leg. Taking the time to investigate it reveals that her footwear has been filled with nettles. Removing them all may take some time and is sure to send pain shooting through her hands during the process.
@Neya: Before we move on, what would you like to do?
@Utar & @ Doozey: Since this happens at the very beginning of Neya's watch, you are welcome to assume your characters are still awake in case you want to do anything or RP. Utar could be awake due to the passing of guard, and Doozey could still be awake due to his alarm.
(@Ori: No need for attack rolls, we can RP this kill.)
The beast lies on the forest floor, its once powerful body now weak and trembling, its blood seeping into the earth. Its breaths were shallow, each one a struggle, as its malevolent eyes, filled with pain, flickered open and shut. CRAP had tracked the panther through the Quivering Forest, following the trail of blood, unique scent, and broken branches. Now with the beast next to them, they see the extent of its injuries and know what needs to be done. The displacer beast's eyes met Doozey's, a moment of understanding passing between them. With a heavy heart, the hunter drew his weapon of choice. A bullet flies, a soft thud ends its.
Neya had stood nearby, in case a second blow was needed, but such effort does not come to pass. Silence enveloped the forest once more, while CRAP stands in quiet reverence.
(OOC: Doozey can give me a survival check for that pelt. The villager has been thoroughly investigated, so the party is welcome to collect any items listed above in post#451.)
-Survival: 25.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
"Fine." Denae answers a question no one asked. "But after you collect the pelt, we should make our way back to the path. We have only accounted for half of the six villagers so far and that is not even including Halvin. And at this rate, I'm not so sure we'll be able to reach the elves before the day is over anymore."
At the mention of Halvin, a very quiet Pipyap reveals his presence again, albeit only by sound. "I thought we were coming in here for Halvin first and everything else second. I am taking huge risks here!"
"I hate to... sort of... agree with the fiend, but so are we. I am not so sure the elves would look kindly on us if they knew our merry group of five was actually a second hexad entering their forest. Who knows how they feel about fiends..." Denae appears glad to have found another villager but she doesn't seem too happy about having to wait for a whole beast to be skinned. However, she has already voiced her reluctant agreement, so she'll fall in line for now.
While she waits for Doozey to do the skinning, she closes her eyes and lets the air around her pick up speed. Denae is controlling the wind, even as non-existent as it is in this forest, ordering it to tell her its secrets, well, a very specific kind of secret. Fallen leaves begin to swirl around the half-elf as her hair almost takes flight. She hums, her feet leave the ground by and inch or two. Half a minute pass before the small gust subsides and the ranger lands safely back on firm soil. "No luck," she clarifies. "There are no portals to the Feywild within a mile of us. We are still far."
Once Doozey is done with the arduous task of skinning a feline monstrosity of considerable size, CRAP readies to leave... Unless they have other steps they would like to take at this juncture.
(OOC: Are you picking up the third villager's belongings?)
"You both make very good points. Perhaps we should switch objectives to try and locate Halvin. Pipyap's demeanor and insistence might make negotiations difficult," Neya says. "I guess that means we will need to try and locate the area of the fey we suppose he went to meet?"
Extended Signature
Boozey remained pointedly mute as Denae and Pipyap air their various grievances and concerns. In fact, he doesn't so much as look at them, or the rest of the party for that matter while skinning the beast. But every now and then some particularly stubborn section of the work left him growling or huffing. Moments that suspiciously coincided with those involving people showing some leaning towards altering the groups course.
Nevertheless, Boozey is nothing if not diligant and driven to see his work done, and so he continued to hold his tongue till the end of it. "There. Mostly done. Could use a bit more time for tanning work couldn't ya? But time not be on our side." He speaks as if talking to the hide. Then, he sucks in a deep breath in through his nose, shook his head once, and then slowly turns to the others. "I take I'm about to be outvoted again, hm? Not that I don't agree with returning to the path, of course. But moreso on where to go next. 'cause I very much would like to continue onward to the elves. But, I have neither the wherewithal or patience to argue right now, wasting more precious time--" He suddenly whips around to face Denae, holding a clawed finger up in a halting gesture. "Don't! You. Start." He says, cutting the woman if she so much as hints at meaning to bring up his own impromptu skinning session.
Boozey then turns again to the others. "... So, if you lot all insist on returning to the crossroad and..." He pauses to take a slow and deep breath. "-paying 'Ya-ya' a more immediate visit, then so be it. But as Big Mama Yondalla as my witness, I will not leave the path again for anything less than dealing with me wayward kin or the hag or the elves or King Witchthorn himself. One way, or another. Do we at least have an understanding on that point?" He asks the group at large calmly enough, but anyone looking closely can see his grip tightening on the bloody hide in hand. "Finding the other villagers is important. I understand that -- I. GET. That... But when all we can expect from some detour is corpses, they can bloody well wait a wee bit longer. Long enough, at the very least, to actually get some measure of permission from the locals to conduct a more thorough search. Maybe even their assistance, should we do them a proper good turn. "
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
"But... you..." Denae doesn't manage to get a third word out before being shushed by Doozey's claw. Once the halfling is done with his piece, the half-elf takes a deep breath and renews her effort: "Very well, no more side business. I was about to agree with my sister. A turn-around might not be the worst idea, and Mr. Badger's terms are reasonable enough. With some luck, the other three villagers, or at least their bodies, can be found at our destinations."
Pipyap gloats: "HA! And who doubted my devilish charms. One sentence is all that I need to beguile you into focusing on my interests!" CRAP can only assume the red-devil is performing some invisible celebratory gestures with his arms: "HALVIN, HERE WE COME!"
After rolling her eyes, Denae looks around to check if Utar and Neya are in agreement.
(OOC: Double checking on this: are you picking up the third villager's belongings?)
"I think Doozey's right. From what we've seen the villagers are dead, the missing ones are most likely dead. Halvin isn't and he's a chance at some answers."
Utar will kneel by the third villager, looking for distinguishing marks and will take their belongings with the party when they leave.
Does he find anything on the body as he gives it a pat down?
Investigation - 22
Making sure he is committing to memory any indication of who this man is, Utar notices that the man is missing his left picky finger. The wound is healed over and the scar tissue shows signs of wear. This is clearly an old wound that has been present during whatever manual work this man used to practice in his daily life.
The cleric of Torm finds no other belonging on the corpse in addition to the ones he had already identified and is in the process of collecting.
With some general agreement achieved, in majority if not unanimity, CRAP prepares to depart the clearing and return to the path. Denae offers to lead the way, humble-bragging about her familiarity with forests in general. That said, the half-elf recognizes Doozey's role in finding the displacer beasts' den so efficiently, and offers to take a supporting role: "Will you lead the way again, Mr. Badger?"
(OOC: If the party would prefer to let Denae take the lead this time, one of you can roll on her behalf. She does not have the highest bonus, she gets a +2 to survival checks, but can roll them with advantage while in a forest (I forgot to mention this last time this offer was made.) Other benefits of her Natural Explorer feature include: difficult terrain doesn’t slow your group’s travel, your group can’t become lost except by magical means, you remain alert to danger even when you are engaged in another activity, you can move stealthily at a normal pace (while alone), you find twice as much food while foraging, and while tracking creatures, you learn the exact number, sizes, and how long ago they passed through the area. All of these additional benefits only kick in after traveling for an hour, and I am resetting that counter after the fight and chase scene, so it is up to you folks whether you want to use someone's higher bonus to the roll.)
Boozey for his part just shook his head and sighed at Pipyap's antics, but otherwise continued working on packing up the hide. But once that's out of the way, a glance then is given to the remains. Though almost a moment later the stoutling is looking away, rubbing his belly and grumbling something under breath. Biscuit is less reluctant in claiming his own prize and then some from the bloody mess, and before long was padding his way over to Boozey side once more with a femur with plenty of meat left on the bone.
"So we're all in agreement then? Good. And yes, I'll.... You know what, Ms. Denae. You take point this time, and I'll watch our rear." He'd say as much.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
(OOC: I'll go ahead and roll for Denae: 22)
"Very well," Denae says. She rises to the challenge and guides the crap out of CRAP back to the path. Denae uses the matted foliage left in the wake of the pursuit of the displacer beast as a tool in easily finding the group's way back. Nonetheless, even if direction and pace are not an issue, CRAP notices that they all disagree on one point about the trek: how long it takes the party to get back to the desired path. Your guesses vary from minutes to hours, and each one of you is entirely adamant that their estimate is the most accurate.
Regardless of the disagreement, what matters most at this moment is that you are indeed back at the path. You look down the way you have been calling "forward," the way towards Greenhall, and sigh. You then turn to the way you've identify as "backward" and begin to move. "To Halvin!" Pipyap says excitedly. Based on the previous day's hike, you know you'll have to set up camp before you can make your way back to the fork on the road where you met Seranolla. As you begin this next leg of the journey, Denae makes sure to begin planning early: "Save your energy. We'll need to spend an extra night on this path just to get back to the intersection that will lead us down the other path. If you have anything in mind that can help us avoid being bothered by those strange woodland critters of the previous night, I suggest you start thinking about it now. Whatever that was, it was plenty strange."
Though a touch confused over the timer differential, the halfling of the group doesn't add to any further discussion on the matter. In fact, he's fairly quick to put it out of his mind, believing the strangeness to either be a quirk of the forest due to feywild influence, or another possible means of interference from the hag. The latter of which the group had experienced and survived before, even if it might've nearly cost them in the end.
"Fraid I at least have nothing of the sort. Best I can manage is to string together a charm to alert us of their presence, though, eh, it's not best suited for dealing critters so small. Not unless don't mind being woken up by every bug that happens to flutter through the area on top of everything else." Doozey finds himself admitting later on. "Best 'advice' I can give though is not to let them sucker you in to leave'n the camp for any reason. Same for any, ehh, odd sounds or lackthereof any of ya might be hearing on watch tonight. And yes, I know normally something like that would go without saying, but in this forest it, uhm.... pays to be a touch more conscientious of such things as a, uhh, means to better ward off any charming thrown ya way." He warns the group.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
"Fair enough," Denae responds. "I can perhaps recruit one such critter to our side if the need arises, but that might be the extent of my soft skills. For now, let us just continue to follow the path until it is time to camp. Keep your wits about you."
The group makes their way down the forest path, your footsteps a rhythmic crunch on the leaf-strewn trail. The air is cool but not fresh, carrying the earthy scent of pine and damp soil. Sunlight filters through the dense canopy with difficulty, casting strange shadows on the ground. All the walking eventually has CRAP moving in a loose line, chatting softly and pointing out curious sights and strange sounds: sudden rustle of leaves, unexpected chirping of insects, and the distant gurgle of a never-to-be-found stream.
Eventually, you realize you must have been walking for many hours, and then arrive at the follow-up realization that the time to call it a day is upon you.
(OOC: Please make preparations for a long rest and roll for you watches.)
After hiking for what feels like an eternity, Utar is glad to finally be stopping. The half-orc is dead on his feet and if it wasn't for the learned muscle memory of setting camp taking over, he might have simply crawled underneath a bedroll and hoped to find morning.
Knowing he's still a watch away from some rest, Utar starts drawing up a watch list, offering to take the first.
Perception - 25
Even without the influence of his hybrid state holding sway throughout the majority of the trek back down the path, Doozey remained as taciturn as ever, if not moreso since the decision to change course. At best he can manage a half-hearted attempt at keeping his part of some idle conversation. But with so many worries gnawing at the back of his mind like a beaver desperate to see a damn complete, still becomes the halfling's tongue all together, least those worries found their way to his tongue and sowed naught but discord.
With a sigh of relief later that day, Doozey eagerly set to work setting up silent wards, tried to put together a rough tanning rack for the displacer beast hide, and then swiftly anything else was seen to that night, practically dove into his sleeping pallet. Though before all that, he would have encouraged maintaining a small campfire throughout the night, if for no other reason than a touch more warmth.
Doozey Perception: 27. (same watch schedule as last)
Biscuit providing help on Denae's watch again.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
(OOC: Forgot adv. from Keen Smell: 16.)
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
Perception: 19
Extended Signature
CRAP has been almost entirely hiking for the last two days now, if not a bit more than that. When the time to set up camp arrives, it must feel like a bit of a blessing, even if the environment is less than welcoming. Focusing on that last detail, Doozey sets up silent wards.
Utar volunteers for the first watch and soon finds himself standing at the edge of the camp casting his eyes over the group. The half-orc's silhouette is outlined by the flickering light of the campfire the party's halfling insisted on lighting up this time around. Utar's keen eyes scanned the dark treeline, every shadow and movement scrutinized with the precision born of experience. The dense forest loomed around the camp, its trees standing like silent sentinels. At the end of it all, though, Utar has very little to report. He makes his way to his bedroll, hoping to lay down and close his eyes, but it is then that he realizes he is not going to be blessed with an uneventful watch after all. His bedroll is covered in honey, both inside and out, and a multitude of ants, those of the biting kind, have already claimed it.
Due to Doozey's mental alarm, he is also awake now, realizing something breached the perimeter of the camp. He realizes the result of such intrusion about the same time as Utar.
@Utar: Before we move on, what would you like to do?
Mushing his own face with his hands, Utar sighs long and hard. Wouldn't be the first time he's used a rock for a pillow. Tossing the bedroll from the tent, he checks for any remaining ants. If the swarm remains, he's going to find a comfortable spot by the fire, if not, he'll bed himself down in the tent.
(@Ori: Feel free to retroactively let us know if Doozey would like to do anything in the scenario above.)
Utar finds that it is very hard to eliminate every single ant left around searching for honey, thus deciding to find a spot outside by the campfire. As Neya stands to start her own watch, she finds confront in the idea of being able to see her half-orc friend nearby.
Unlike the Tormite, Neya's biggest discovery during her watch come at the very top of it. As the warrior puts her boots back on to go outside and begin her watch, she feels a thousand prickles of pain shoot up her leg. Taking the time to investigate it reveals that her footwear has been filled with nettles. Removing them all may take some time and is sure to send pain shooting through her hands during the process.
@Neya: Before we move on, what would you like to do?
@Utar & @ Doozey: Since this happens at the very beginning of Neya's watch, you are welcome to assume your characters are still awake in case you want to do anything or RP. Utar could be awake due to the passing of guard, and Doozey could still be awake due to his alarm.