Yuno stops and lets Trythia do her thing though she doesn't seem all too concerned with whatever the forest might throw at them. Despite not having any proper protective equipment, she seems oddly confident about her defensive capabilities.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Mal watches Yuni as step into the grove and then sees that Trythia enter as well. Glad they did not go poof upon entering she will wait half a beat she then will move to the side and try to blend into the background as best she can and turn her head from side to side scanning around the group to see if anything tries to sneak up on them.
The wall of thorns and vine-choked roots seemed to hold its breath as Yuno’s blades parted the undergrowth. Each slash sent fragments of leaf and stem tumbling to the mossy ground, the sound sharp against the unnatural stillness of the grove’s edge. Her cautious testing of the space ahead found no visible barrier, no sudden surge of magic to bar her way, and her boots pressed into soil that was soft but solid. The warning in her mind remained — not louder, not softer — just patient, as if watching to see what she would do next.
Trythia matched her step for step, glaive in hand, the subtle hum of its magic thrumming up her arms. The grove’s unnatural presence was enough to raise her guard, but she reached deeper, calling on that inner sense that pierced veils and shadows alike. Power stirred at her command, radiating out in an unseen pulse — yet no celestial, fiend, or undead answered the call. Still, there was a shift beneath it, a faint impression that the forest here had been touched by something not meant for it. No hallowed ground lay ahead, but neither was it fully desecrated — it was as if the grove itself stood on the edge of becoming one or the other.
Yuno’s stillness let Trythia work uninterrupted, her confidence unshaken despite the weight of the grove pressing around them.
From behind, Mal lingered half a heartbeat before slipping sideways into the shadow of a leaning pine. She moved with quiet intent, her presence folding into the background as she scanned the dim green light of the grove’s edge. The weave of twisted trunks and thorned brush left many pockets of shadow where something could lie in wait, but her careful watch found nothing creeping closer — only the sense of being observed from somewhere deeper in the grove, where the light failed and the air thickened with the scent of moss and wild roses.
The forest remained still. Watching. Waiting.
Then, the air changed.
It began as a faint brush along the edges of thought, like the whisper of wind against the inside of the skull. A voice without sound, neither threatening nor kind, but undeniable in its intent. Turn back. The thought was clear, but not spoken. In its wake, the underbrush seemed to shift — not moving in any wind, but subtly rearranging itself in ways the eye could barely follow. A gap that had been to the left of the trail now appeared slightly right; a dark hollow between two trees seemed to stretch, its shape suggesting another, older path winding away into the shadows.
The sensation of being watched intensified, though no figure could be seen. It was as though the grove itself had narrowed its attention to the party, every root, leaf, and thorn aware of them in ways no natural forest should be. Somewhere ahead, beyond sight, something ancient waited — patient, protective, and ready to act should its warning go unheeded.
The pull within each of them still urged forward… straight through the heart of whatever now stood in their way.
Volkanica’s
The warmth in Volkanica’s core rose, spilling into her eyes until they burned a molten yellow. The faint scent of heat and cinder lingered in the air as she wove the magic twice over — first to kindle the blaze in her gaze, and then to call forth the dry crackle of a growing flame. The sound echoed through the quiet wood, unnatural in the damp hush beneath the canopy.
The forest reacted.
Birdsong, already thin, vanished entirely. The air grew denser, each breath tasting faintly of loam and old bark. Shadows deepened between the trunks. She could almost feel the weight of the predator’s attention, its patience sharpened into precision.
Somewhere ahead, the flicker came again — this time, she was certain. A dark form glided between the trees without a sound, its shape blurred and wrong, as though the air itself could not decide where it truly stood. For the briefest instant, she caught a flash of sleek black fur and the curve of a muscular shoulder before it was gone again.
The fire beetle companion on her shoulder chittered sharply, the sound bright and urgent, its eyes fixed on a patch of forest off her right flank. Then, almost simultaneously, the hairs on the back of her neck rose — something was there, mirroring her pace from the left.
The predator had decided to draw nearer.
The shifting displacement made it impossible to tell exactly where it would strike, but the feeling was clear: the hunt had moved to the next stage.
Roll initiative.
Gedyr
OOC: Gedyr can have those spells cast if you would normally have had him do so before starting out that morning. The tracks he saw were the same as he saw all during is travels the previous day, not the prints of this dire wolf.
Gedyr calls upong his warsong as he draws his blade and turns towards the beast. He remembers sweeping maneuvers and techniques from ancient training, but settles on a simple attack aimed at beasts of the field. With the strike comes a word of power, and a magic field surrounds the beast if he is struck.
Bonus Action Bladesong
Action Booming Blade with Melee attack.
Attack: 12 Damage: 12
will take damage if it follows him out at 1d8
Gedyr will leap away from the wolf assuming the attack hits, such that the wolf will need to move towards him while risking an opportunity attack. If he misses, he will stay in melee. He is cautious and concerned the wolf's pack may be nearby.
(mage armor he would have as it's long duration, but not false life as it's shorter duration if he had no early warning)
Trythia relates what she discovered to the others. "There's no need for us to force a way through this grove. It warns us away and our destination does not lie within it. I say we go around and not disturb whatever it is that wishes to remain undisturbed."
With a sharp intake of breath, Gedyr draws steel and calls upon his warsong. The rhythm thrums in his chest, sharpening his focus and quickening his movements as the familiar magic of the Bladesong takes hold. The blade flashes in his hand, and with it, he weaves the words of power that mark a Booming Blade.
He steps in, aiming the strike low toward the beast’s flank. The dire wolf shifts its weight just as the blow falls, and the steel carves empty air — the attack missing by inches. The intended surge of arcane force never takes hold, the magic fading as the blade fails to find its mark. Choosing caution over risk, Gedyr holds his ground, wary of the predator’s speed and the possibility of others lurking nearby.
The wolf wastes no time. It surges forward in a burst of muscle and fury, closing the space between them with terrifying speed. Its massive jaws snap toward Gedyr’s side, aiming to bear him to the ground.
Dire Wolf Attack: Bite — +5 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target.
Attack Roll: 16 (hit against AC after Bladesong and Mage Armor?)
Damage: 10 piercing damage.
Special: Gedyr must succeed on a DC 13 Strength saving throw or be knocked prone.
Gedyr: If the above hits, make a DC 13 Strength saving throw to resist being knocked prone.
Volkanica
The forest had gone utterly silent, the tension pressing in from every side. Volkanica stood ready among the towering trunks, molten-yellow eyes blazing with thaumaturgic heat, the sound of conjured flame crackling in the still air.
The fire beetle on her shoulder shifted, antennae twitching, its gaze fixed on something beyond her sight. Somewhere out there, just beyond the edge of vision, the distorted shimmer of the predator moved. It was close — circling — the strange displacement bending light and shadow in ways that made it impossible to mark its true position.
Though she could not see it clearly, she knew it was watching. Waiting. Ready to act when its time came.
Gedyr's slash misses...the beast is fast, and perhaps Gedyr is rusty. However, the song flows true. As the beast snaps back at Gedyr he gracefully leaps over the attack, and circles around the beast. His next attack is the same, calling forth the magick and swinging the blade, this time going for a low sweep to catch a leg.
Mal responds to both Yuno and Trythia, "I am indifferent, whichever direction is the easiest for us to get to our destination. Is the "entity" seem evil or is actively hunting us or just warning us to stay away from the grove. Though I do wonder what this thing is defending? For all we know it might lead to a cache of supplies which we all desperately need. Now that I think about it more, we should enter the grove to find out what is there. If it does turn out to be more than we can handle currently we can always retreat and go around and then continue out travels."
She then turns to the other two, "Haluth and Cygnan, "What are your thoughts?"
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Yuno stops and lets Trythia do her thing though she doesn't seem all too concerned with whatever the forest might throw at them. Despite not having any proper protective equipment, she seems oddly confident about her defensive capabilities.
Mal watches Yuni as step into the grove and then sees that Trythia enter as well. Glad they did not go poof upon entering she will wait half a beat she then will move to the side and try to blend into the background as best she can and turn her head from side to side scanning around the group to see if anything tries to sneak up on them.
Stealth: 15
Perception: 18
Gedyr,
initiative
17
(would he have had enough time to cast mage armor or false life at seeing the tracks and before the encounter?}
Cygnan, Haluth, Mal, Trythia, and Yuno
The wall of thorns and vine-choked roots seemed to hold its breath as Yuno’s blades parted the undergrowth. Each slash sent fragments of leaf and stem tumbling to the mossy ground, the sound sharp against the unnatural stillness of the grove’s edge. Her cautious testing of the space ahead found no visible barrier, no sudden surge of magic to bar her way, and her boots pressed into soil that was soft but solid. The warning in her mind remained — not louder, not softer — just patient, as if watching to see what she would do next.
Trythia matched her step for step, glaive in hand, the subtle hum of its magic thrumming up her arms. The grove’s unnatural presence was enough to raise her guard, but she reached deeper, calling on that inner sense that pierced veils and shadows alike. Power stirred at her command, radiating out in an unseen pulse — yet no celestial, fiend, or undead answered the call. Still, there was a shift beneath it, a faint impression that the forest here had been touched by something not meant for it. No hallowed ground lay ahead, but neither was it fully desecrated — it was as if the grove itself stood on the edge of becoming one or the other.
Yuno’s stillness let Trythia work uninterrupted, her confidence unshaken despite the weight of the grove pressing around them.
From behind, Mal lingered half a heartbeat before slipping sideways into the shadow of a leaning pine. She moved with quiet intent, her presence folding into the background as she scanned the dim green light of the grove’s edge. The weave of twisted trunks and thorned brush left many pockets of shadow where something could lie in wait, but her careful watch found nothing creeping closer — only the sense of being observed from somewhere deeper in the grove, where the light failed and the air thickened with the scent of moss and wild roses.
The forest remained still. Watching. Waiting.
Then, the air changed.
It began as a faint brush along the edges of thought, like the whisper of wind against the inside of the skull. A voice without sound, neither threatening nor kind, but undeniable in its intent. Turn back. The thought was clear, but not spoken. In its wake, the underbrush seemed to shift — not moving in any wind, but subtly rearranging itself in ways the eye could barely follow. A gap that had been to the left of the trail now appeared slightly right; a dark hollow between two trees seemed to stretch, its shape suggesting another, older path winding away into the shadows.
The sensation of being watched intensified, though no figure could be seen. It was as though the grove itself had narrowed its attention to the party, every root, leaf, and thorn aware of them in ways no natural forest should be. Somewhere ahead, beyond sight, something ancient waited — patient, protective, and ready to act should its warning go unheeded.
The pull within each of them still urged forward… straight through the heart of whatever now stood in their way.
Volkanica’s
The warmth in Volkanica’s core rose, spilling into her eyes until they burned a molten yellow. The faint scent of heat and cinder lingered in the air as she wove the magic twice over — first to kindle the blaze in her gaze, and then to call forth the dry crackle of a growing flame. The sound echoed through the quiet wood, unnatural in the damp hush beneath the canopy.
The forest reacted.
Birdsong, already thin, vanished entirely. The air grew denser, each breath tasting faintly of loam and old bark. Shadows deepened between the trunks. She could almost feel the weight of the predator’s attention, its patience sharpened into precision.
Somewhere ahead, the flicker came again — this time, she was certain. A dark form glided between the trees without a sound, its shape blurred and wrong, as though the air itself could not decide where it truly stood. For the briefest instant, she caught a flash of sleek black fur and the curve of a muscular shoulder before it was gone again.
The fire beetle companion on her shoulder chittered sharply, the sound bright and urgent, its eyes fixed on a patch of forest off her right flank. Then, almost simultaneously, the hairs on the back of her neck rose — something was there, mirroring her pace from the left.
The predator had decided to draw nearer.
The shifting displacement made it impossible to tell exactly where it would strike, but the feeling was clear: the hunt had moved to the next stage.
Roll initiative.
Gedyr
OOC: Gedyr can have those spells cast if you would normally have had him do so before starting out that morning. The tracks he saw were the same as he saw all during is travels the previous day, not the prints of this dire wolf.
Initiative order:
17 - Gedyr - Current turn
13 - Dire Wolf
Gedyr is up./p>
Volkanica Initiative: 15
[Beetle shares initiative]
ooc: Does the source of the tugging feel close, as though it is within the grove that warns us off?
Tandor the White, Human Life Cleric
Cygnan init 9 in log.
(Cygnan would have cast mage armor at the day's start)
Gedyr calls upong his warsong as he draws his blade and turns towards the beast. He remembers sweeping maneuvers and techniques from ancient training, but settles on a simple attack aimed at beasts of the field. With the strike comes a word of power, and a magic field surrounds the beast if he is struck.
Bonus Action Bladesong
Action Booming Blade with Melee attack.
Attack: 12 Damage: 12
will take damage if it follows him out at 1d8
Gedyr will leap away from the wolf assuming the attack hits, such that the wolf will need to move towards him while risking an opportunity attack. If he misses, he will stay in melee. He is cautious and concerned the wolf's pack may be nearby.
(mage armor he would have as it's long duration, but not false life as it's shorter duration if he had no early warning)
The pull feels a distance away, definitly past the grove a bit yet. Likely a couple hours of travel still.
Trythia relates what she discovered to the others. "There's no need for us to force a way through this grove. It warns us away and our destination does not lie within it. I say we go around and not disturb whatever it is that wishes to remain undisturbed."
Tandor the White, Human Life Cleric
Yuno suggest, "Or we can just kill whatever it is that attacks us. The forest is pretty thick."
Gedyr
With a sharp intake of breath, Gedyr draws steel and calls upon his warsong. The rhythm thrums in his chest, sharpening his focus and quickening his movements as the familiar magic of the Bladesong takes hold. The blade flashes in his hand, and with it, he weaves the words of power that mark a Booming Blade.
He steps in, aiming the strike low toward the beast’s flank. The dire wolf shifts its weight just as the blow falls, and the steel carves empty air — the attack missing by inches. The intended surge of arcane force never takes hold, the magic fading as the blade fails to find its mark. Choosing caution over risk, Gedyr holds his ground, wary of the predator’s speed and the possibility of others lurking nearby.
The wolf wastes no time. It surges forward in a burst of muscle and fury, closing the space between them with terrifying speed. Its massive jaws snap toward Gedyr’s side, aiming to bear him to the ground.
Gedyr: If the above hits, make a DC 13 Strength saving throw to resist being knocked prone.
Volkanica
The forest had gone utterly silent, the tension pressing in from every side. Volkanica stood ready among the towering trunks, molten-yellow eyes blazing with thaumaturgic heat, the sound of conjured flame crackling in the still air.
The fire beetle on her shoulder shifted, antennae twitching, its gaze fixed on something beyond her sight. Somewhere out there, just beyond the edge of vision, the distorted shimmer of the predator moved. It was close — circling — the strange displacement bending light and shadow in ways that made it impossible to mark its true position.
Though she could not see it clearly, she knew it was watching. Waiting. Ready to act when its time came.
But the first move belonged to her.
Initiative order:
15 - Volkanica - Current turn
11 - Displacer Beast
Volkanica is up.
Gedyr
Gedyr's slash misses...the beast is fast, and perhaps Gedyr is rusty. However, the song flows true. As the beast snaps back at Gedyr he gracefully leaps over the attack, and circles around the beast. His next attack is the same, calling forth the magick and swinging the blade, this time going for a low sweep to catch a leg.
Attack: 17 Damage: 11
add 1d8 if the beast moves.
Upon a hit Gedyr will spring backwards.
Mal responds to both Yuno and Trythia, "I am indifferent, whichever direction is the easiest for us to get to our destination. Is the "entity" seem evil or is actively hunting us or just warning us to stay away from the grove. Though I do wonder what this thing is defending? For all we know it might lead to a cache of supplies which we all desperately need. Now that I think about it more, we should enter the grove to find out what is there. If it does turn out to be more than we can handle currently we can always retreat and go around and then continue out travels."
She then turns to the other two, "Haluth and Cygnan, "What are your thoughts?"