Jack waves his hand around in the stump discovering it to be fake.
"Well that's no fun" he mumbles.
( I'm going to assume Jack is being very careful not to actually touch the swollen fungus within as he waves his hands about and possibly kill everyone....except himself given his ' affliction').
Does he know if it will explode or something? If so he will warn the others away and begin following Ardwynn.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
Jack waves his hand around in the stump discovering it to be fake.
"Well that's no fun" he mumbles.
( I'm going to assume Jack is being very careful not to actually touch the swollen fungus within as he waves his hands about and possibly kill everyone....except himself given his ' affliction').
Does he know if it will explode or something? If so he will warn the others away and begin following Ardwynn.
( It's basically a giant puffball and he's probably seen thousands of normal size ones......so yeah, he knows its dangerous.)
In the momentary pause, the big man steps back and fishes the scroll and the gem out of his pack and looks around at his companions, chewing his lip. After a moment, he seems to come to a decision, approaching his diminutive friend from Ereworn and the trapper stranger.
Barn's voice is tentative. "Wynn, you... you're smart with m-magic stuff and, um, R-Reg? You t-talked about s-some illusion on the stump, right? M-maybe you're g-good at this stuff too. The beggar man b-back there. The one whose skin was f-falling off until... until it wasn't. He g-gave us this ah... gem? And this p-parchment or scroll from his 'Master Fabian' from the tower. Was thinking one of y-you should have these. M-maybe one each?"
Reg is a little confused at first as Barn starts to speak of the beggar as he himself wasn't necessarily present when the interaction occurred. That and the fact that he was busy with the casting meant that he was missing key components of the interaction. However, I am sure with Ardwynn's help and the others, Reg is filled in quickly.
Ardwynn's eyes widen at the sight of a potential spell scroll and a gem of - at first glance - some worth. Perhaps Reg would have a better chance of discerning their usefulness."
The Recluse takes the objects in his hands and examines each in turn. He holds the gem to the early morning light and catches the rays in the facets of each cut, admiring the craftsmanship that went into making it, noting that it is worth far more than he has ever owned. "Alas miss, I lack the ability to 'introspect' magicks and determine uses of such that are laid upon another object. I have heard tell of wise folks with that ability, though I do believe they use very expensive components to achieve their effects." As the last of the detect magic casting fades from the man's sight he responds, "Though I can definitively say these are rather ordinary in their makeup."
As Reg unfurls the scroll and reads the poem, his eyes linger on the name, he silently mouths it over and over again, "Fabian. Fabian? Fabian! FABIAN!" He pushes the scroll and gem back into Barnor Ardwynn's hands as he drops his pack and searches for a book. Though what he pulls out would hardly constitute a book, there was no spine, and the pages were all tattered and torn. The only binding holding the individual sheets together was a bit of twine punched through one corner. He stops abruptly as he comes to the section he sought. "Fabian, he begins slowly pointing to the page in his hand, I didn't know anything else of the mage. Only have his name here and a note that he had a tower." He looks to the skyline and points to the same as the leper. "I can't say I understand the meaning of the scroll. Perhaps that will be made more apparent should we reach the tower. He looks wishfully before silently repacking his belongings. He reaches briefly for the items but doesn't grab for either, if given, he stores them away. "Perhaps, we will learn more should we reach it...but for now we have a girl to rescue from an uncertain fate."
Jack looks to the others and states his findings, "A thin trail snakes off through the trees to the west. It is well established but seems to be seldom used, judging by the untrampled grass and ferns growing in the middle of it. There is another muddy path leading off to the east; some imprints of a boot are noticeable, but they are not the boots Ned was wearing..... the other trails heading off in all directions all appear to be animal trails left by deer or the like, passable but it will be slow going through the thick foliage."
"Which path do you all feel we should take? It appears Ned just flew away, as there is no sign of his actual path. I wonder if the direction of that animal noise that was brought up should be relevant."
"Following the boots is as good of a choice as any other choice. I doubt one pair of boots is Darian's Black Riders... but we should be wary those riders can pop out or something else can."
As Reg unfurls the scroll and reads the poem, his eyes linger on the name, he silently mouths it over and over again, "Fabian. Fabian? Fabian! FABIAN!" He pushes the scroll and gem back into Barnor Ardwynn's hands as he drops his pack and searches for a book. Though what he pulls out would hardly constitute a book, there was no spine, and the pages were all tattered and torn. The only binding holding the individual sheets together was a bit of twine punched through one corner. He stops abruptly as he comes to the section he sought. "Fabian, he begins slowly pointing to the page in his hand, I didn't know anything else of the mage. Only have his name here and a note that he had a tower." He looks to the skyline and points to the same as the leper. "I can't say I understand the meaning of the scroll. Perhaps that will be made more apparent should we reach the tower. He looks wishfully before silently repacking his belongings. He reaches briefly for the items but doesn't grab for either, if given, he stores them away. "Perhaps, we will learn more should we reach it...but for now we have a girl to rescue from an uncertain fate."
Barn nods solemnly at Reg's words, then grins at Ardwynn, tossing her back the gem and stuffing the poetic parchment back into his own pack.
"Y-yeah. Maybe we should answer this F-Fabian's call? Go to his t-tower. I mean, you know... after. Clotha first."
The big man hefts his halberd and looks ready to follow just behind whoever takes the lead (Caelan he assumes) down the chosen boot-imprinted path.
Caelan listened without interrupting as the findings came in, Jack’s careful accounting of the paths, Barn’s instinctive pointing south, the murmured unease that rippled through the group. He let the noise settle, eyes moving from trail to trail, weighing them not as choices but as intentions. He crouched briefly at the edge of the clearing where the muddy path broke away to the east, studying the boot prints without touching them. Different sole. Different weight. Human, most likely. Purposeful. He straightened slowly.
“Good work,” he said to Jack first, quiet but certain.“You didn’t miss them before. You weren’t meant to see them until now.” His gaze lifted, sweeping the western trail next, the narrow one choked with grass. Old. Known. Too known. A path something small and clever would expect to be watched. He turned slightly toward Barn as the big man spoke, nodding once at the mention of the squealing animal. “You heard something real,” Caelan said. “But real doesn’t always mean relevant. Sometimes it’s just noise meant to lean us a step off true.”
His attention returned to the eastward trail. “These boots,” he continued, tapping the ground lightly with the toe of his own boot without disturbing the print, “they don’t belong to Ned. Which makes them interesting. Either someone else is involved…or he wants us thinking that.”He rose fully then, settling the strap of his bracer, bow still lowered but ready. “We follow the boots,” he decided at last. “Fresh ground tells fewer lies than old paths and animal runs. If it’s a trick, it’s one we can read while moving.”
A glance back to the group, measuring spacing, readiness. “Same order as before. Quiet feet. Eyes high. If the trail splits again, we stop and reassess, no guessing on the move.” His gaze lingered a moment longer on the clearing they were leaving, the crows, the hollow oak. “This place wanted us stalled,” he added softly. “That alone tells me we’re walking the right way now.” With that, Caelan stepped onto the muddy path, careful not to mar the prints, and began to lead them onward, steady, deliberate, and fully committed to the next choice.
A small object arcs through the sun-dappled air toward Ardwynn. She reacts by instinct - snagging the stone on it's downward arc.
It is a smooth, cool, purple stone that fits neatly in her hand. She takes a moment to peer at the stone as it warms in her palm. A deep purple - flawlessly smooth, yet within its depths swirls an impossible, internal galaxy of shimmering light, pulsing with a pale, ethereal light that seems to defy the shadows of the deep woods.
Disracted, she nearly trips on an ancient, gnarled root in her path. With a small gasp she snaps her eyes back onto the trail as she slips the stone into the pouch tied to her belt. 'Stop getting distracted and keep your eyes and mind on the task at hand, Wynn' she mentally chastised herself.
The path seems to be well used. You trudge on as the sun struggles up over the trees and shines dimly through the mist. Soon you come to a notice tacked to a tree. It reads “Trespassers will answer with their lives”. It is signed by ‘Duke Darian’. Idly some of you wonder, considering the education level of most of Ereworns peasantry, how many trespassers can read.
Without warning, the mist grows thicker and you can hardly see a metre in front of you.
Soon you emerge into a clearing. You see lamplight pouring from a window set into the wall of a low wooden cabin in front of you. You can smell the scent of wood smoke in the air.
Barn may not be the sharpest blade on the weapon rack, yet being the bastard son of a minor noblewoman, he can read. Sort of. He squints at the warning posted to the tree, sounding out the words and his expression becomes flat, his large knuckles whitening on the haft of his halberd.
As the fog thickens, the big man stares around, more in wonder than in apprehension. He considers the incongruity of the homely woodsmoke-smelling cabin in the clearing, given the palpable mystery and menace of the surrounding forest. Or would consider it if he knew what incongruity meant.
The captain of his erstwhile squad of irregulars under Duke Darian's levy would already have signaled for Barn to kick down the door and commandeered the abode without a second thought. Yet somehow, he suspects that this may not be the right opening move here.
The big man steps up next to Caelen and glances at his companions, his voice a rumbling whisper. "Sh-should we, um... knock?"
Smiling Jack sees those in front gather together, and assumes they are discussing what to do. Jack is curious himself what to do about the house. As his knowledge of the riders and this view of the house don't match.
Jack closes his eyes for a second and tries to think what his dad taught him. Beyond the lockpicking and pick pocketing and trap picking, he remembers that if thieves are in a group all have a role and a job, if the group stops those in the back pull security and verify no one is following or watching or there are additional traps and escape routes are nearby.
Opening his eyes Jack starts to look, seeing Reg in front he taps his shoulder and whispers,
"I am making sure nothing comes up behind us and look for paths we can escape on if things get rough. Let me know what is decided."
OOC pick what roll is relevant
Rolling log for:
perception is...8
Investigating 4
Nature 7
Also survival? To check out anything normal or not normal. 18
Smiling Jack sees those in front gather together, and assumes they are discussing what to do. Jack is curious himself what to do about the house. As his knowledge of the riders and this view of the house don't match.
Jack closes his eyes for a second and tries to think what his dad taught him. Beyond the lockpicking and pick pocketing and trap picking, he remembers that if thieves are in a group all have a role and a job, if the group stops those in the back pull security and verify no one is following or watching or there are additional traps and escape routes are nearby.
Opening his eyes Jack starts to look, seeing Reg in front he taps his shoulder and whispers,
"I am making sure nothing comes up behind us and look for paths we can escape on if things get rough. Let me know what is decided."
OOC pick what roll is relevant
Rolling log for:
perception is...8
Investigating 4
Nature 7
Also survival? To check out anything normal or not normal. 18
Skirting back Jack notes the large woodpile at the back of the cabin has an unusual number of flies buzzing about it and notes there seems to be a cleared path off to the south into the woods as well as a number of animal trails leading in all directions.
Smiling Jack quietly walks up to Barn and Caelen, waits patiently for a verbal opening as the discuss the house... when he sees one...
"Excuse me...I just want you to be aware...the woodpile in the back needs to be investigated....too many bugs and flies...it may be nothing but it might be something more...and. ...and there is a cleared path off to the south into the woods as well as a number of small animal trails leading in all directions...
Should I take someone to checkout the pile???... Should I wait on the house...first?... (Listening to feedback)...do we split up?.... some to the house some around the house?"
Only because over the last two years in Duke Darian's service, he has personally witnessed corpses left to fester and rot, whether hidden or in the open, Barn has the same morbid thought as others might about the cause of the flies by the woodpile in the back which Smiling Jack reports.
The big man's knuckles whiten further on the haft of his halberd and he gulps.
"It c-could be dead bodies... or m-maybe, I dunno... leftovers from butchering an animal for m-meat, left out for other animals to eat. Either w-way, if there are animal trails, maybe whoever is in the c-cabin d-does this often? I can go to guard whoever w-wants to check it out? Or not."
Barn makes no move yet. Waiting as usual to follow others' suggestions. Others who are smarter than he is (which is pretty much everybody, he thinks).
Does he know if it will explode or something? If so he will warn the others away and begin following Ardwynn.
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
( It's basically a giant puffball and he's probably seen thousands of normal size ones......so yeah, he knows its dangerous.)
Reg is a little confused at first as Barn starts to speak of the beggar as he himself wasn't necessarily present when the interaction occurred. That and the fact that he was busy with the casting meant that he was missing key components of the interaction. However, I am sure with Ardwynn's help and the others, Reg is filled in quickly.
The Recluse takes the objects in his hands and examines each in turn. He holds the gem to the early morning light and catches the rays in the facets of each cut, admiring the craftsmanship that went into making it, noting that it is worth far more than he has ever owned. "Alas miss, I lack the ability to 'introspect' magicks and determine uses of such that are laid upon another object. I have heard tell of wise folks with that ability, though I do believe they use very expensive components to achieve their effects." As the last of the detect magic casting fades from the man's sight he responds, "Though I can definitively say these are rather ordinary in their makeup."
As Reg unfurls the scroll and reads the poem, his eyes linger on the name, he silently mouths it over and over again, "Fabian. Fabian? Fabian! FABIAN!" He pushes the scroll and gem back into Barn or Ardwynn's hands as he drops his pack and searches for a book. Though what he pulls out would hardly constitute a book, there was no spine, and the pages were all tattered and torn. The only binding holding the individual sheets together was a bit of twine punched through one corner. He stops abruptly as he comes to the section he sought. "Fabian, he begins slowly pointing to the page in his hand, I didn't know anything else of the mage. Only have his name here and a note that he had a tower." He looks to the skyline and points to the same as the leper. "I can't say I understand the meaning of the scroll. Perhaps that will be made more apparent should we reach the tower. He looks wishfully before silently repacking his belongings. He reaches briefly for the items but doesn't grab for either, if given, he stores them away. "Perhaps, we will learn more should we reach it...but for now we have a girl to rescue from an uncertain fate."
"Let's just follow the boots. At least the trail is fresh?" Jack says sheepishly.
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
Smiling Jack
"Following the boots is as good of a choice as any other choice. I doubt one pair of boots is Darian's Black Riders... but we should be wary those riders can pop out or something else can."
Barn nods solemnly at Reg's words, then grins at Ardwynn, tossing her back the gem and stuffing the poetic parchment back into his own pack.
"Y-yeah. Maybe we should answer this F-Fabian's call? Go to his t-tower. I mean, you know... after. Clotha first."
The big man hefts his halberd and looks ready to follow just behind whoever takes the lead (Caelan he assumes) down the chosen boot-imprinted path.
Barn(Paladin1):Damian_May's Ereworn Under the Shadow | Lyra(Warlock2/Bard4):VitusW's Silverwood Forest | Nivi(Rogue5):Erik_Soong's Netherdeep
Joren(Fighter6):NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Quyen(Adept1, ba5ic system):ConstancePhokas' Nentir Vale (Discord) | Seri(Druid1):Hunter_Orien's Saltmarsh
Xarian (Fighter3):Luna_Dust's Marks on the Map | Ophelia (Sorcerer2):BillM's Icewind Dale | Shin(Wizard1):Culuril's Strixhaven
Smiling Jack, follows Barn's lead by ensuring his shortbow has an arrow notched and waits for "his" spot to follow those in front.
OOC I put my opinion of a walking order in the PM thread.
Caelan listened without interrupting as the findings came in, Jack’s careful accounting of the paths, Barn’s instinctive pointing south, the murmured unease that rippled through the group. He let the noise settle, eyes moving from trail to trail, weighing them not as choices but as intentions. He crouched briefly at the edge of the clearing where the muddy path broke away to the east, studying the boot prints without touching them. Different sole. Different weight. Human, most likely. Purposeful. He straightened slowly.
“Good work,” he said to Jack first, quiet but certain. “You didn’t miss them before. You weren’t meant to see them until now.” His gaze lifted, sweeping the western trail next, the narrow one choked with grass. Old. Known. Too known. A path something small and clever would expect to be watched. He turned slightly toward Barn as the big man spoke, nodding once at the mention of the squealing animal. “You heard something real,” Caelan said. “But real doesn’t always mean relevant. Sometimes it’s just noise meant to lean us a step off true.”
His attention returned to the eastward trail. “These boots,” he continued, tapping the ground lightly with the toe of his own boot without disturbing the print, “they don’t belong to Ned. Which makes them interesting. Either someone else is involved…or he wants us thinking that.” He rose fully then, settling the strap of his bracer, bow still lowered but ready. “We follow the boots,” he decided at last. “Fresh ground tells fewer lies than old paths and animal runs. If it’s a trick, it’s one we can read while moving.”
A glance back to the group, measuring spacing, readiness. “Same order as before. Quiet feet. Eyes high. If the trail splits again, we stop and reassess, no guessing on the move.” His gaze lingered a moment longer on the clearing they were leaving, the crows, the hollow oak. “This place wanted us stalled,” he added softly. “That alone tells me we’re walking the right way now.” With that, Caelan stepped onto the muddy path, careful not to mar the prints, and began to lead them onward, steady, deliberate, and fully committed to the next choice.
A small object arcs through the sun-dappled air toward Ardwynn. She reacts by instinct - snagging the stone on it's downward arc.
It is a smooth, cool, purple stone that fits neatly in her hand. She takes a moment to peer at the stone as it warms in her palm. A deep purple - flawlessly smooth, yet within its depths swirls an impossible, internal galaxy of shimmering light, pulsing with a pale, ethereal light that seems to defy the shadows of the deep woods.
Disracted, she nearly trips on an ancient, gnarled root in her path. With a small gasp she snaps her eyes back onto the trail as she slips the stone into the pouch tied to her belt. 'Stop getting distracted and keep your eyes and mind on the task at hand, Wynn' she mentally chastised herself.
74
The path seems to be well used. You trudge on as the sun struggles up over the trees and shines dimly through the mist. Soon you come to a notice tacked to a tree. It reads “Trespassers will answer with their lives”. It is signed by ‘Duke Darian’. Idly some of you wonder, considering the education level of most of Ereworns peasantry, how many trespassers can read.
Without warning, the mist grows thicker and you can hardly see a metre in front of you.
Soon you emerge into a clearing. You see lamplight pouring from a window set into the wall of a low wooden cabin in front of you. You can smell the scent of wood smoke in the air.
Smiling Jack looks at the others as he is surprised to see a nice house near the sign.
Barn may not be the sharpest blade on the weapon rack, yet being the bastard son of a minor noblewoman, he can read. Sort of. He squints at the warning posted to the tree, sounding out the words and his expression becomes flat, his large knuckles whitening on the haft of his halberd.
As the fog thickens, the big man stares around, more in wonder than in apprehension. He considers the incongruity of the homely woodsmoke-smelling cabin in the clearing, given the palpable mystery and menace of the surrounding forest. Or would consider it if he knew what incongruity meant.
The captain of his erstwhile squad of irregulars under Duke Darian's levy would already have signaled for Barn to kick down the door and commandeered the abode without a second thought. Yet somehow, he suspects that this may not be the right opening move here.
The big man steps up next to Caelen and glances at his companions, his voice a rumbling whisper. "Sh-should we, um... knock?"
Barn(Paladin1):Damian_May's Ereworn Under the Shadow | Lyra(Warlock2/Bard4):VitusW's Silverwood Forest | Nivi(Rogue5):Erik_Soong's Netherdeep
Joren(Fighter6):NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Quyen(Adept1, ba5ic system):ConstancePhokas' Nentir Vale (Discord) | Seri(Druid1):Hunter_Orien's Saltmarsh
Xarian (Fighter3):Luna_Dust's Marks on the Map | Ophelia (Sorcerer2):BillM's Icewind Dale | Shin(Wizard1):Culuril's Strixhaven
Smiling Jack sees those in front gather together, and assumes they are discussing what to do. Jack is curious himself what to do about the house. As his knowledge of the riders and this view of the house don't match.
Jack closes his eyes for a second and tries to think what his dad taught him. Beyond the lockpicking and pick pocketing and trap picking, he remembers that if thieves are in a group all have a role and a job, if the group stops those in the back pull security and verify no one is following or watching or there are additional traps and escape routes are nearby.
Opening his eyes Jack starts to look, seeing Reg in front he taps his shoulder and whispers,
"I am making sure nothing comes up behind us and look for paths we can escape on if things get rough. Let me know what is decided."
OOC pick what roll is relevant
Rolling log for:
perception is...8
Investigating 4
Nature 7
Also survival? To check out anything normal or not normal. 18
Skirting back Jack notes the large woodpile at the back of the cabin has an unusual number of flies buzzing about it and notes there seems to be a cleared path off to the south into the woods as well as a number of animal trails leading in all directions.
Smiling Jack quietly walks up to Barn and Caelen, waits patiently for a verbal opening as the discuss the house... when he sees one...
"Excuse me...I just want you to be aware...the woodpile in the back needs to be investigated....too many bugs and flies...it may be nothing but it might be something more...and. ...and there is a cleared path off to the south into the woods as well as a number of small animal trails leading in all directions...
Should I take someone to checkout the pile???... Should I wait on the house...first?... (Listening to feedback)...do we split up?.... some to the house some around the house?"
Only because over the last two years in Duke Darian's service, he has personally witnessed corpses left to fester and rot, whether hidden or in the open, Barn has the same morbid thought as others might about the cause of the flies by the woodpile in the back which Smiling Jack reports.
The big man's knuckles whiten further on the haft of his halberd and he gulps.
"It c-could be dead bodies... or m-maybe, I dunno... leftovers from butchering an animal for m-meat, left out for other animals to eat. Either w-way, if there are animal trails, maybe whoever is in the c-cabin d-does this often? I can go to guard whoever w-wants to check it out? Or not."
Barn makes no move yet. Waiting as usual to follow others' suggestions. Others who are smarter than he is (which is pretty much everybody, he thinks).
Barn(Paladin1):Damian_May's Ereworn Under the Shadow | Lyra(Warlock2/Bard4):VitusW's Silverwood Forest | Nivi(Rogue5):Erik_Soong's Netherdeep
Joren(Fighter6):NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Quyen(Adept1, ba5ic system):ConstancePhokas' Nentir Vale (Discord) | Seri(Druid1):Hunter_Orien's Saltmarsh
Xarian (Fighter3):Luna_Dust's Marks on the Map | Ophelia (Sorcerer2):BillM's Icewind Dale | Shin(Wizard1):Culuril's Strixhaven
Barn does note smoke coming from the cabins chimney so it is likely someone is currently within ......
Jack shrugs, walks up to the cabin door and knocks.
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale