Drako, Nigel, and Pinja worked diligently alongside Don-Jon to give the fallen miners a proper burial. Each grave was marked with a pickaxe, driven into the ground as a somber but respectful headstone.
Don-Jon stood by each grave, his hat in hand, his head bowed in reverence. "These folks deserved better," he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of his sorrow and gratitude. "Thank you all for helpin' give 'em a proper rest. Their families will know they were honored."
Meanwhile, Darien was not idle. He scoured the area, seeking any signs or trails that might lead to Zeleen and the other wererats who had escaped. Despite his best efforts, it was clear they had covered their tracks well.
With the burials completed and farewells exchanged, the group prepared to depart. Don-Jon approached each of them, his voice earnest and filled with gratitude. "Thank y'all again. You ever need anythin', you know where to find me. Safe travels."
The adventurers began their journey northward, heading towards the Triboar Trail. The path was rugged but familiar, each step taking them further from the mine and closer to their next destination.
With the sun climbing higher in the sky, the group heads northward, making their way toward the Triboar Trail. The path they follow winds gently through the landscape, flanked by the dense expanse of Neverwinter Wood to the north. Known as the safest route between Neverwinter and the town of Triboar in the Dessarin Valley, the Triboar Trail is a well-traveled road, though it is not without its dangers.
As the adventurers walk, the trail takes them through rolling hills and past wide fields. The morning light casts long shadows across the path, and the air is filled with the sounds of nature—birds calling, leaves rustling, and the occasional distant roar of a wild beast. Despite its reputation, the trail remains unpatrolled, and tales of monster attacks keep the group vigilant.
Hours pass, and the sun begins its descent. The golden hues of sunset paint the sky, signaling the end of another day of travel. Fatigue starts to weigh on the adventurers, their steps growing heavier with each passing mile. They keep their eyes and ears alert, wary of any lurking threats as they push forward.
Just as the weariness seems almost too much to bear, the group spots something unusual ahead. In the middle of the trail, about sixty (60) feet ahead, an abandoned wagon sits quietly, its presence both unexpected and intriguing. They can see the wagon is filled with apples, the ripe fruits spilling over the edges in a generous heap.
[ What do they do? ]
[ To simplify travel, each hex will count as 1 hour of travel. If you'd all like to push forward, everyone will need to make a constitution saving throw as per the rules of Forced March. ]
“Mmmm, smells heavenly,” Pinja exclaims, unconsciously taking three steps toward the cart of ripe fruit. She peers around, seeking any signs of a trap. [perception - rolled a 1🥴] “Looks like it’s our lucky day,” she says smiling at the others. “I am starving.” She starts walking toward the cart.
“Hold on Pinja,” Darien says to the tiefling, holding an arm out to stop her from moving past him. “I don’t think anybody would just leave all this food here for no reason.”
[[ Perception22 for traps or an ambush, moving slightly forward if necessary but still staying at least 20 ft. or so from the cart. ]]
" Hmmm...seems odd." muses Nigel. He silently sends Archimedes to fly about the immediate area to look for an owner. (Perception 10)
If the area is deemed free of threats then Nigel will suggest they stay here for the night. It will take some pretty heavy persuading to get him to force march on.
[[ Considering hexes on a map are ~5 miles wide, I find the map image amusing. Like we all took Pinja's "You guys need a bath. You stink." way way way too seriously. ;p ]]
If Darien and Nigel find nothing amiss, Drako approaches the wagon. He disagrees with Pinja. "I'd be remiss to steal someone's fruit. I have to wonder if they were ambushed by the orcs near the ranch or," he gazes up at the sky, "if something else took them."
As the group halts a short distance from the abandoned wagon, Darien steps forward, his senses on high alert. He approaches the wagon slowly and carefully, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger. The wagon is facing away from him, and he notices several apples scattered on the ground next to it. The air is filled with the sweet aroma of the fruit, but Darien remains cautious.
He crouches low, checking for any signs of traps or hidden threats. Seeing none, he inches closer, each step measured and deliberate. His sharp eyes catch the smallest details: the wagon's weathered wood, the way the apples have rolled out and come to rest on the dirt path.
Circling around the cart, Darien's gaze shifts to the front where a horse would typically be harnessed. His eyes narrow as he spots something concerning. The wooden yoke is cracked, splintered as if by some sudden, violent force. Tiny pools of blood dot the ground beneath the broken wood, a stark contrast to the otherwise peaceful scene.
Nigel:
Nigel closes his eyes and focuses, channeling his senses through Archimedes. The world shifts as he sees through the keen eyes of the bird. Archie takes to the air, soaring gracefully above the road and circling the area around the abandoned wagon and the party.
From this vantage point, Archies' sharp vision scans the ground below, capturing every detail with clarity. The trail of humanoid tracks leading northwest, the broken yoke, and the tiny pools of blood all come into view. Yet, as the owl extends its flight further, it becomes evident that there are no immediate threats lurking in the vicinity.
Those of you who inspect the surroundings for tracks or other signs of activity notice a trail leading northwest towards the dense expanse of Neverwinter Woods. The tracks are distinctly humanoid, their depth and spacing indicating that whoever made them was sprinting recklessly. The imprints in the soil suggest the individual was heavy, their footsteps pressing deeply into the earth.
As you follow the trail with your eyes, the tracks weave slightly, as if the person had been fleeing in a panic. The path they took cuts through the underbrush, snapping twigs and crushing leaves beneath their hurried steps.
Those of you who inspect the blood notice that it appears fresh, its deep red hue stark against the earth. The texture and color suggest that it was spilled no longer than half a day ago.
[ You may take a long rest on the side of the road, or push forward towards your destinations. I will need an order for keeping watch. Otherwise, I'll just assume you take watches in the same order as last night (Drako, Darien, Pinja and Grikiltha, Nigel). ]
“Doesn’t look like they were taken,” Darien says, relaying the survival and medicine information to the rest of the party. “Though I can’t seem to find any sign of why they might have been fleeing in such a hurry. Perhaps we should rest here in case they come back?”
"If they were fleeing in a panic, we may not be doing ourselves a service resting in the same area. At least not without precautions." says Drako, "And even if a temporary danger was present, the fact they haven't returned makes me uneasy."
He turns to Nigel, "Might it be possible for you to make some earthworks for basic defense? And perhaps Archie could try following the trail to get more information while we fortified our positions?"
"I agree. I'm not sure I could walk another mile. But before we rest perhaps we should find some food to satisfy Pinjas unfortunate condition. I would suggest we use the apples if they will sufice. While that's being taken care of let me see what I can do to help our situation." The wizard pushes his sleeves back and extends his arm out with the fingers of his hand curled into the shape of a claw. Using the same spell from this morning he escavates an area underneath the wagon. His claw shaped hand pantomimming clutching a hand full of dirt and then depositing it beside the wagon. He repeats the process until he has created a small dugout underneath the apple cart but in such a way that the wheels are braced so it can't fall in. The wagon now becoming a makeshift roof on a small earthen room. The dirt from the dugout comprising a burm around the wagon sealing off the sides except for 6inch wide arrow slits. 2 on the longer side and 1 at each end. He asks Drako and anyone else who might know, where he should position more burms to create defensive cover.
“They will satisfy!” Pinja exclaims, grabbing an apple in each hand and proceeding to consume an incredible amount of apples. She glances at Drako, her mouth full of apples. “This isn’t stealing. Merely unfortunate travelers helping other unfortunate travelers. Besides, we’ll need our strength if we’re going to try to find them in the morning. We can’t just leave them out there knowing they’re injured and now I’m indebted to them for the apples. I’ll take third watch. Don’t freak out if I rat-out again tonight. My skins starting to itch…I don’t think I can control it.”
Walking up to the wagon, Grikiltha looks at the blood. "Well I would say that whoever was driving this wagon had a change in priorities, and the loss a few apples won't bother them a bit at the moment. As a matter of fact, the apples are going to be a treat for the local wildlife just left here. So if we don't make use of their labors some one, or something else will. I see no harm in refilling our bellies, especially part time fur."
Hearing Pinja's heads up about not being able to control the transformation. "You don't say?"
Finished with the mini fortress of freshly turned earth, Nigel finds a corner to place his bedroll. He sits on it awhile reading and writing as usual. His quill glowing brightly illuminates the area under the makeshift wagon roof. He soon lies down to sleep before his turn at watch.
As dusk settles, Nigel finishes preparing the makeshift shelter beneath the abandoned wagon. He sets up chunks of earth to use as cover, creating a small, fortified space for the group to rest. The night descends quickly, the sky darkening as the last rays of the sun disappear beyond the horizon.
With the cover of darkness, Pinja's form begins to shift once more. Her body contorts and changes, fur sprouting and her features morphing into the wererat hybrid. She stifles a gasp as the transformation completes, her senses now sharper and more attuned to the night.
Drako takes the first watch, his eyes scanning the surrounding darkness. The campfire crackles softly, its light casting flickering shadows. The night remains quiet, with only the faint rumblings of thunder and distant flashes of lightning to the north breaking the stillness. Drako's watch passes uneventfully, and he remains vigilant until his shift ends.
Darien takes over, his elven eyes piercing the gloom. The makeshift dirt fortress provides a sense of security, and the night continues without incident. The only sounds are the gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional call of a night bird. Darien keeps his watch, alert and steady, until his shift concludes.
During Pinja's watch, her keen wererat senses pick up the scent of something enticing. Her nostrils flare as the aroma of fresh apples fills the air and mingles with this new smell. Intrigued, she begins to look around the wagon, her movements slow and deliberate. Her eyes, adjusting to the darkness, scan the area nearby, but she cannot see who or what might be there. The scent grows stronger, irresistible.
Just as the tantalizing scent grows stronger, Pinja's heightened senses pick up the sound of a woman yelling from the shadows, "Now!" In an instant, a volley of arrows whizzes through the air, piercing into her body. The pain is sharp, but her wererat form seems to absorb some of the damage, the arrows not sinking as deeply as they might have otherwise.
Longbow Attacks:
18 to hit, 7 damage. (so 3)
6 to hit.
16 to hit, 4 damage. (so 2)
18 to hit, 9 damage. (so 4)
15 to hit, 3 damage. (so 1)
23 to hit, 3 damage. (so 1)
[ Pinja may take any reactions pertinent to being struck by these attacks. ]
Before she can fully react, the woman's voice echoes again, filled with urgency and command, "Slay the monster! Stick to the shadows!" The area around the wagon is suddenly alive with movement, dark figures shifting in the periphery of her vision, blending seamlessly with the night. The ambush has begun, and Pinja's instincts kick into overdrive as she prepares to defend herself against the unseen attackers.
Initiative
1- Adventurers (now)
2- Unknown
[ Pinja is the only one outside, and the rest are just waking up because of the noise. Pinja is unable to see her attackers, but with her scent, she can discern that there are about three assailants. The attacks came from a northwestern direction, same direction as the tracks were leading. ]
Drako mumbles as he's roused from his sleep. Putting on the goggles of night he thinks to himself, Slay the monster? Where! before it dawns on him as he gets up, Ah, Pinja.
Coming out from beneath the wagon he causes his voice to thunder in the night. "Stop! This wererat is no monster." Hoping to cease the combat and get diplomacy.
Pinja swipes the arrows from her body, feeling the adrenaline flow through her blood. She reactively points her finger at one of the moving shadows. Hellish Rebuke (12 damage) But hearing the woman's use of the words 'monster', she casts Thaumaturgy and increases the brightness of hellish flames until it bathes the entire area in light as bright as day. "We are not monsters," she yells, "I'm a tiefling that was bitten by a wererat and am under a curse! So unless you want to kill innocent people, put your weapons down!"
Darien nearly jumps to his feet at the shouting before remembering that they’re under the cart, and instead crawls out after Drako. He quickly heals Pinja (7 hp) before turning his attention to the direction the tiefling is looking. “She speaks the truth! We drove a pack of wererats out of the mine south of here and are now attempting to locate them near Conyberry! Is this your cart? We were worried when we found the tracks.” (help to Pinja’s persuasion)
Grikiltha hears the commotion and starts to get out from under the wagon along the back side of the wagon. Still unaware of how many and what kind of foes they faced, this seems like a good place to evaluate the situation.
"Hold!" the female voice commands from the shadows, and the assault ceases abruptly. A moment later, a female elf holding a longbow steps into the light, her expression a mixture of caution and disdain. Her sharp eyes sweep over the group, lingering on Pinja's wererat form.
Nigel, seeing through the eyes of Archimedes, notices two more elven archers hiding behind her in a V formation. One of them glances at Archie but does nothing to harm the owl.
The scout addresses the group with a voice that carries a tone of backhanded apology. "I see we made a mistake," she says, her eyes never leaving Pinja. "But given the monstrous appearance of your... companion, our actions were justified. We don't take kindly to creatures of such nature roaming these parts." Her words are sharp, unapologetic in their implication.
She lowers her bow slightly, though her posture remains tense and alert. "I am Farah Driareli," she introduces herself, her voice firm and unyielding. "My companions will remain hidden during our conversation, as a precaution."
Her eyes flick to each member of the group before settling back on Pinja's transformed figure. At the mention of Conyberry, her brows furrow in thought. "Conyberry has been abandoned for years," she informs them, her tone carrying a hint of sadness. "It's nothing but ruins now. Few dare to venture there anymore."
As she speaks, the forest around them seems to hold its breath, the only sounds being the distant rumble of thunder and the crackle of their campfire.
Drako, Nigel, and Pinja worked diligently alongside Don-Jon to give the fallen miners a proper burial. Each grave was marked with a pickaxe, driven into the ground as a somber but respectful headstone.
Don-Jon stood by each grave, his hat in hand, his head bowed in reverence. "These folks deserved better," he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of his sorrow and gratitude. "Thank you all for helpin' give 'em a proper rest. Their families will know they were honored."
Meanwhile, Darien was not idle. He scoured the area, seeking any signs or trails that might lead to Zeleen and the other wererats who had escaped. Despite his best efforts, it was clear they had covered their tracks well.
With the burials completed and farewells exchanged, the group prepared to depart. Don-Jon approached each of them, his voice earnest and filled with gratitude. "Thank y'all again. You ever need anythin', you know where to find me. Safe travels."
The adventurers began their journey northward, heading towards the Triboar Trail. The path was rugged but familiar, each step taking them further from the mine and closer to their next destination.
With the sun climbing higher in the sky, the group heads northward, making their way toward the Triboar Trail. The path they follow winds gently through the landscape, flanked by the dense expanse of Neverwinter Wood to the north. Known as the safest route between Neverwinter and the town of Triboar in the Dessarin Valley, the Triboar Trail is a well-traveled road, though it is not without its dangers.
As the adventurers walk, the trail takes them through rolling hills and past wide fields. The morning light casts long shadows across the path, and the air is filled with the sounds of nature—birds calling, leaves rustling, and the occasional distant roar of a wild beast. Despite its reputation, the trail remains unpatrolled, and tales of monster attacks keep the group vigilant.
Hours pass, and the sun begins its descent. The golden hues of sunset paint the sky, signaling the end of another day of travel. Fatigue starts to weigh on the adventurers, their steps growing heavier with each passing mile. They keep their eyes and ears alert, wary of any lurking threats as they push forward.
Just as the weariness seems almost too much to bear, the group spots something unusual ahead. In the middle of the trail, about sixty (60) feet ahead, an abandoned wagon sits quietly, its presence both unexpected and intriguing. They can see the wagon is filled with apples, the ripe fruits spilling over the edges in a generous heap.
[ What do they do? ]
[ To simplify travel, each hex will count as 1 hour of travel. If you'd all like to push forward, everyone will need to make a constitution saving throw as per the rules of Forced March. ]
Map:
Currently DMing:
“Mmmm, smells heavenly,” Pinja exclaims, unconsciously taking three steps toward the cart of ripe fruit. She peers around, seeking any signs of a trap. [perception - rolled a 1🥴] “Looks like it’s our lucky day,” she says smiling at the others. “I am starving.” She starts walking toward the cart.
“Hold on Pinja,” Darien says to the tiefling, holding an arm out to stop her from moving past him. “I don’t think anybody would just leave all this food here for no reason.”
[[ Perception 22 for traps or an ambush, moving slightly forward if necessary but still staying at least 20 ft. or so from the cart. ]]
" Hmmm...seems odd." muses Nigel. He silently sends Archimedes to fly about the immediate area to look for an owner. (Perception 10)
If the area is deemed free of threats then Nigel will suggest they stay here for the night. It will take some pretty heavy persuading to get him to force march on.
**This Space for Rent**
[[ Considering hexes on a map are ~5 miles wide, I find the map image amusing. Like we all took Pinja's "You guys need a bath. You stink." way way way too seriously. ;p ]]
If Darien and Nigel find nothing amiss, Drako approaches the wagon. He disagrees with Pinja. "I'd be remiss to steal someone's fruit. I have to wonder if they were ambushed by the orcs near the ranch or," he gazes up at the sky, "if something else took them."
This is a signature. It was a simple signature. But it has been upgraded.
Belolonandalogalo, Sunny | Draíocht, Kholias | Eggo Lass, 100 Dungeons
Talorin Tebedi, Vecna: Eve | Cherry, Stormwreck | Chipper, Strahd
We Are Modron
Get rickrolled here. Awesome music here. Track 48, 5/23/25, Immaculate Mary
Darien:
As the group halts a short distance from the abandoned wagon, Darien steps forward, his senses on high alert. He approaches the wagon slowly and carefully, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger. The wagon is facing away from him, and he notices several apples scattered on the ground next to it. The air is filled with the sweet aroma of the fruit, but Darien remains cautious.
He crouches low, checking for any signs of traps or hidden threats. Seeing none, he inches closer, each step measured and deliberate. His sharp eyes catch the smallest details: the wagon's weathered wood, the way the apples have rolled out and come to rest on the dirt path.
Circling around the cart, Darien's gaze shifts to the front where a horse would typically be harnessed. His eyes narrow as he spots something concerning. The wooden yoke is cracked, splintered as if by some sudden, violent force. Tiny pools of blood dot the ground beneath the broken wood, a stark contrast to the otherwise peaceful scene.
Nigel:
Nigel closes his eyes and focuses, channeling his senses through Archimedes. The world shifts as he sees through the keen eyes of the bird. Archie takes to the air, soaring gracefully above the road and circling the area around the abandoned wagon and the party.
From this vantage point, Archies' sharp vision scans the ground below, capturing every detail with clarity. The trail of humanoid tracks leading northwest, the broken yoke, and the tiny pools of blood all come into view. Yet, as the owl extends its flight further, it becomes evident that there are no immediate threats lurking in the vicinity.
[ Passive Survival 13 ]
Those of you who inspect the surroundings for tracks or other signs of activity notice a trail leading northwest towards the dense expanse of Neverwinter Woods. The tracks are distinctly humanoid, their depth and spacing indicating that whoever made them was sprinting recklessly. The imprints in the soil suggest the individual was heavy, their footsteps pressing deeply into the earth.
As you follow the trail with your eyes, the tracks weave slightly, as if the person had been fleeing in a panic. The path they took cuts through the underbrush, snapping twigs and crushing leaves beneath their hurried steps.
[ Passive Medicine 13 ]
Those of you who inspect the blood notice that it appears fresh, its deep red hue stark against the earth. The texture and color suggest that it was spilled no longer than half a day ago.
[ You may take a long rest on the side of the road, or push forward towards your destinations. I will need an order for keeping watch. Otherwise, I'll just assume you take watches in the same order as last night (Drako, Darien, Pinja and Grikiltha, Nigel). ]
Currently DMing:
Snapping out of his trance, Nigel relays what Archie saw.
**This Space for Rent**
“Doesn’t look like they were taken,” Darien says, relaying the survival and medicine information to the rest of the party. “Though I can’t seem to find any sign of why they might have been fleeing in such a hurry. Perhaps we should rest here in case they come back?”
"If they were fleeing in a panic, we may not be doing ourselves a service resting in the same area. At least not without precautions." says Drako, "And even if a temporary danger was present, the fact they haven't returned makes me uneasy."
He turns to Nigel, "Might it be possible for you to make some earthworks for basic defense? And perhaps Archie could try following the trail to get more information while we fortified our positions?"
This is a signature. It was a simple signature. But it has been upgraded.
Belolonandalogalo, Sunny | Draíocht, Kholias | Eggo Lass, 100 Dungeons
Talorin Tebedi, Vecna: Eve | Cherry, Stormwreck | Chipper, Strahd
We Are Modron
Get rickrolled here. Awesome music here. Track 48, 5/23/25, Immaculate Mary
"I agree. I'm not sure I could walk another mile. But before we rest perhaps we should find some food to satisfy Pinjas unfortunate condition. I would suggest we use the apples if they will sufice. While that's being taken care of let me see what I can do to help our situation." The wizard pushes his sleeves back and extends his arm out with the fingers of his hand curled into the shape of a claw. Using the same spell from this morning he escavates an area underneath the wagon. His claw shaped hand pantomimming clutching a hand full of dirt and then depositing it beside the wagon. He repeats the process until he has created a small dugout underneath the apple cart but in such a way that the wheels are braced so it can't fall in. The wagon now becoming a makeshift roof on a small earthen room. The dirt from the dugout comprising a burm around the wagon sealing off the sides except for 6inch wide arrow slits. 2 on the longer side and 1 at each end. He asks Drako and anyone else who might know, where he should position more burms to create defensive cover.
**This Space for Rent**
“They will satisfy!” Pinja exclaims, grabbing an apple in each hand and proceeding to consume an incredible amount of apples. She glances at Drako, her mouth full of apples. “This isn’t stealing. Merely unfortunate travelers helping other unfortunate travelers. Besides, we’ll need our strength if we’re going to try to find them in the morning. We can’t just leave them out there knowing they’re injured and now I’m indebted to them for the apples. I’ll take third watch. Don’t freak out if I rat-out again tonight. My skins starting to itch…I don’t think I can control it.”
Walking up to the wagon, Grikiltha looks at the blood. "Well I would say that whoever was driving this wagon had a change in priorities, and the loss a few apples won't bother them a bit at the moment. As a matter of fact, the apples are going to be a treat for the local wildlife just left here. So if we don't make use of their labors some one, or something else will. I see no harm in refilling our bellies, especially part time fur."
Hearing Pinja's heads up about not being able to control the transformation. "You don't say?"
Finished with the mini fortress of freshly turned earth, Nigel finds a corner to place his bedroll. He sits on it awhile reading and writing as usual. His quill glowing brightly illuminates the area under the makeshift wagon roof. He soon lies down to sleep before his turn at watch.
**This Space for Rent**
As dusk settles, Nigel finishes preparing the makeshift shelter beneath the abandoned wagon. He sets up chunks of earth to use as cover, creating a small, fortified space for the group to rest. The night descends quickly, the sky darkening as the last rays of the sun disappear beyond the horizon.
With the cover of darkness, Pinja's form begins to shift once more. Her body contorts and changes, fur sprouting and her features morphing into the wererat hybrid. She stifles a gasp as the transformation completes, her senses now sharper and more attuned to the night.
Drako takes the first watch, his eyes scanning the surrounding darkness. The campfire crackles softly, its light casting flickering shadows. The night remains quiet, with only the faint rumblings of thunder and distant flashes of lightning to the north breaking the stillness. Drako's watch passes uneventfully, and he remains vigilant until his shift ends.
Darien takes over, his elven eyes piercing the gloom. The makeshift dirt fortress provides a sense of security, and the night continues without incident. The only sounds are the gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional call of a night bird. Darien keeps his watch, alert and steady, until his shift concludes.
During Pinja's watch, her keen wererat senses pick up the scent of something enticing. Her nostrils flare as the aroma of fresh apples fills the air and mingles with this new smell. Intrigued, she begins to look around the wagon, her movements slow and deliberate. Her eyes, adjusting to the darkness, scan the area nearby, but she cannot see who or what might be there. The scent grows stronger, irresistible.
Just as the tantalizing scent grows stronger, Pinja's heightened senses pick up the sound of a woman yelling from the shadows, "Now!" In an instant, a volley of arrows whizzes through the air, piercing into her body. The pain is sharp, but her wererat form seems to absorb some of the damage, the arrows not sinking as deeply as they might have otherwise.
Longbow Attacks:
[ Pinja may take any reactions pertinent to being struck by these attacks. ]
Before she can fully react, the woman's voice echoes again, filled with urgency and command, "Slay the monster! Stick to the shadows!" The area around the wagon is suddenly alive with movement, dark figures shifting in the periphery of her vision, blending seamlessly with the night. The ambush has begun, and Pinja's instincts kick into overdrive as she prepares to defend herself against the unseen attackers.
Initiative
1- Adventurers (now)
2- Unknown
[ Pinja is the only one outside, and the rest are just waking up because of the noise. Pinja is unable to see her attackers, but with her scent, she can discern that there are about three assailants. The attacks came from a northwestern direction, same direction as the tracks were leading. ]
Currently DMing:
Drako mumbles as he's roused from his sleep. Putting on the goggles of night he thinks to himself, Slay the monster? Where! before it dawns on him as he gets up, Ah, Pinja.
Coming out from beneath the wagon he causes his voice to thunder in the night. "Stop! This wererat is no monster." Hoping to cease the combat and get diplomacy.
Persuasion: 1+2 = 3
//guessing that's a failure
[[ Does his passive perception of 15 (10 for dim light) see where the scouts (guessing that's the stablock) are? ]]
This is a signature. It was a simple signature. But it has been upgraded.
Belolonandalogalo, Sunny | Draíocht, Kholias | Eggo Lass, 100 Dungeons
Talorin Tebedi, Vecna: Eve | Cherry, Stormwreck | Chipper, Strahd
We Are Modron
Get rickrolled here. Awesome music here. Track 48, 5/23/25, Immaculate Mary
Pinja swipes the arrows from her body, feeling the adrenaline flow through her blood. She reactively points her finger at one of the moving shadows. Hellish Rebuke (12 damage)
But hearing the woman's use of the words 'monster', she casts Thaumaturgy and increases the brightness of hellish flames until it bathes the entire area in light as bright as day. "We are not monsters," she yells, "I'm a tiefling that was bitten by a wererat and am under a curse! So unless you want to kill innocent people, put your weapons down!"
Darien nearly jumps to his feet at the shouting before remembering that they’re under the cart, and instead crawls out after Drako. He quickly heals Pinja (7 hp) before turning his attention to the direction the tiefling is looking. “She speaks the truth! We drove a pack of wererats out of the mine south of here and are now attempting to locate them near Conyberry! Is this your cart? We were worried when we found the tracks.” (help to Pinja’s persuasion)
Grikiltha hears the commotion and starts to get out from under the wagon along the back side of the wagon. Still unaware of how many and what kind of foes they faced, this seems like a good place to evaluate the situation.
Nigel stays under the protection of the fortified wagon and instead communes with Archie to see what is going on.
**This Space for Rent**
"Hold!" the female voice commands from the shadows, and the assault ceases abruptly. A moment later, a female elf holding a longbow steps into the light, her expression a mixture of caution and disdain. Her sharp eyes sweep over the group, lingering on Pinja's wererat form.
Nigel, seeing through the eyes of Archimedes, notices two more elven archers hiding behind her in a V formation. One of them glances at Archie but does nothing to harm the owl.
The scout addresses the group with a voice that carries a tone of backhanded apology. "I see we made a mistake," she says, her eyes never leaving Pinja. "But given the monstrous appearance of your... companion, our actions were justified. We don't take kindly to creatures of such nature roaming these parts." Her words are sharp, unapologetic in their implication.
She lowers her bow slightly, though her posture remains tense and alert. "I am Farah Driareli," she introduces herself, her voice firm and unyielding. "My companions will remain hidden during our conversation, as a precaution."
Her eyes flick to each member of the group before settling back on Pinja's transformed figure. At the mention of Conyberry, her brows furrow in thought. "Conyberry has been abandoned for years," she informs them, her tone carrying a hint of sadness. "It's nothing but ruins now. Few dare to venture there anymore."
As she speaks, the forest around them seems to hold its breath, the only sounds being the distant rumble of thunder and the crackle of their campfire.
Currently DMing: