Altani just watches the group as they run across logs and hoist each other up, thinking to herself that they seem like a team. She keeps an eye peeled around at the area around them, the lake and the forest, to see if the splashing sound coupled with all the talk has peeked anythings interest.
"Swinging on a rope or running across water... it is the muddy bank for me".
Perception10 to spot any movement since we have been making noise.
'A long but thin brown scaled serpent slithers through the brush and into the water about thirty feet along the Eastern bank. Overhead, a pair of colourful rainbow feathered birds take flight, dancing and spinning aerobatically about each other above the lagoon's dark waters, before dissapearing into the trees on the North bank. A couple of the tiny bright green frogs hop into the water with small, almost impercetable *splashes*. A few of the surrounding Cyprus' uppermost branches are swaying in the stiff breeze that swirls above, but the foliage immediately around the lagoon seems well protected from the elements beyond. Apart from this, Altani detects no movement in the clearing that isn't being caused by her allies.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Maintaining her balance, Cinder tries to think of a way through this scenario, and thinks of something. She ties a rope to her spear and throws it the fifteen feet to the other side of the pond, trying to anchor it.
Maintaining her balance, Cinder tries to think of a way through this scenario, and thinks of something. She ties a rope to her spear and throws it the fifteen feet to the other side of the pond, trying to anchor it.
17
'Poised on the tips of her feet, Cinder hurls her tied javelin up in the air towards the far side of the lagoon. The now weighted missile still easily clears the water's edge to come down point first with a wet *thud* to stick in the ground about three feet from the bank. The length of the rope clutched in the monk's other hand now trails into the murky water, sending further ripples out across the surface of the brackish pool, but this does not seem to elicit further disturbance from amidst the lilly pads. Indeed, the water there now appears calm and still.'
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
'Mazin reaches up to grip the living missile with one meaty hand on either side of the lean sorcerer's clothing, before launching Kestrell down, out and finally up over the lagoon water with a mighty heave. At the top of his pendulum like arc the daring half-elf releases his grip on the rope to sail up, out and, finally down towards the far bank. Hands windmilling about in a fair facsimile of Alwin's earlier attempt to balance, the motion proves ultimately futile as the acrobatic feat does not quite result in a smooth landing. Flailing towards the thankfully muddy ground from a height of around twenty plus feet at the top of his arc, Kestell crashes into the somewhat forgiving earth in a painful tangle of limbs and with a still audible *OOF* as the air is blasted from his lungs.'
[OOC] Kestrell takes 6 bludgeoning damage, is prone and if he fails a con save DC11 is stunned for 1 minutes from his collission with the muddy bank.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
'Kestrell jumps to his feet and flashes a thumbs up sign.'
"Thanks Mazin, that did the trick. Hurt like the dickens though. Hey Wazzock, come here and rub my knees for me, will you?"
'Kestrell looks around, surveying his new surroundings, looking to see if they are closer to the Cyprus tree that is hopefully hiding the Frogmaiden. He then uses his Mage Hand to take the rope back to dangle over Mazin.'
'Kestrell jumps to his feet and flashes a thumbs up sign.'
"Thanks Mazin, that did the trick. Hurt like the dickens though. Hey Wazzock, come here and rub my knees for me, will you?"
'Kestrell looks around, surveying his new surroundings, looking to see if they are closer to the Cyprus tree that is hopefully hiding the Frogmaiden. He then uses his Mage Hand to take the rope back to dangle over Mazin.'
Ignoring his bumps and bruises well, Kestrell shakes the mud from his clothing and body. As the injured sorcerer summons his spectral hand and sends it across the lagoon, he is dismayed to see his conjuration vanish some distance from the far bank. Casting the spell and making the attempt again, the puzzled half-elf's efforts are met with similarly dissapointing results.
Still facing the far bank, Kestrell notices the top of something smooth and green begin to emerge from the water close to the nearby bank, as a five and a half foot tall frog like huminoid covered in pond slime and crude clothing formed from still living lilly pads and flowers pulls itself from the lagoon to stand ten feet from the wary sorcerer. At its vine belt, the yellow-eyed creature wears a primitive stone knife, while in its left webbed hand it clutches a dripping net of natural fibres.
Facing each other in a brief momentary stand-off, the perceptive half-elfs sharp hearing detects a melodic *hehehehehe* sound of light twittering laughter from the trees and brush behind him.'
[OOC] All PCs see Kestrell sail across the lagoon and crash into the far bank. All PCs see the strange frog like creature emerge from the lagoon to stand five feet from Kestrell on the far bank, about fifty feet away from all of you (except Cinder 30 feet and Alwin 40 feet to the creature).
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Altani stomps on the muddy ground, lowering her javelin.
“Cypress, Frogmistress and beauty of the wilderness, please excuse my friends antics. I am Altani of the Windspeaker clan. We mean you and your home no harm. We have come to seek your guidance and to ask for your aid in helping us stop the murders of the lizardfolk that have been happening around the marsh. We consulted with the wise shaman Meerkthistle who said you may know who is responsible and sent us to seek you in your lovely home.
Your home, it is beautiful indeed, I have never seen anything like it before in my life”
While all of that is happening, C see tries to pull the moving log towards the far bank using her rope that she still holds the ends of. Remembering the description of the woman living here Cinder speaks a bit loudly, saying, “I don’t think that is the Frogmaiden Kestrell!”
'While the wet frog creature does not reach for its stone knife at Kestrell's movements, it does crouch somewhat and raise its dripping net wielding arm a little, letting a series of vibrating *croaks* and oscillating *clicks* emerge from its broad neck and gullet as its large black-slit yellow eyes rotate and follow the sorcerer's motions. The bruised and still muddy half-elf hears nothing behind him except for another twitter of almost child-like *hehehehehe* laughter.'
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
While all of that is happening, C see tries to pull the moving log towards the far bank using her rope that she still holds the ends of. Remembering the description of the woman living here Cinder speaks a bit loudly, saying, “I don’t think that is the Frogmaiden Kestrell!”
'Tugging on the now anchored rope with all her strength as she calls out to her now isolated ally, Cinder fails to move the long slime covered log at all towards the Northern bank, though her efforts do cause the slippery wooden length to again turn ever so slightly. Caught off-guard by the movement beneath her feet, the monk's otherwise poised balance is further compromised by the knotted rope pulling free of the embedded javelin with the now unattached coil of hemp whipping back to fall limp in the murky water.'
[OOC] Cinder and Alwin both need to make a dexterity saving throw DC11 or fall off the slippery log into the lagoon.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Altani stomps on the muddy ground, lowering her javelin.
“Cypress, Frogmistress and beauty of the wilderness, please excuse my friends antics. I am Altani of the Windspeaker clan. We mean you and your home no harm. We have come to seek your guidance and to ask for your aid in helping us stop the murders of the lizardfolk that have been happening around the marsh. We consulted with the wise shaman Meerkthistle who said you may know who is responsible and sent us to seek you in your lovely home.
Your home, it is beautiful indeed, I have never seen anything like it before in my life”
'Watching as the seeming stand-off between the frog-like humanoid and her sorcerer ally continues, Altani calls out across the lagoon's water in the centaur warriors strong, clear voice, but recieves no response.'
[OOC] DM FYI: If bi- or multi-lingual PCs don't specify what language they are speaking to NPCs/monsters in, I will likely assume common as the default.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
While all of that is happening, C see tries to pull the moving log towards the far bank using her rope that she still holds the ends of. Remembering the description of the woman living here Cinder speaks a bit loudly, saying, “I don’t think that is the Frogmaiden Kestrell!”
Oh, that makes more sense. Mazin will take out a Javelin and stick it in the ground in front of him. He wants to have it within easy reach in case anything goes wrong.
As Altani speaks, he will look out to see if there is anyone or anything that responds/moves when she talks. perception23
While all of that is happening, C see tries to pull the moving log towards the far bank using her rope that she still holds the ends of. Remembering the description of the woman living here Cinder speaks a bit loudly, saying, “I don’t think that is the Frogmaiden Kestrell!”
"Oh, ah, thank you Cinder!"'Kestrell shouts in return and then continues to the frog creature:'
"Hello again then. I am Kestrell Halferson. My friends and I are looking for The Frogmaiden so that we can help the lizardfolk. Do you know where she is? And really, there is no need for the net. Or that knife. You seem reasonable, and we are not hostile. "
[OOC]: Not sure what, if any, roll is needed. So here is a generic roll: 4
While all of that is happening, C see tries to pull the moving log towards the far bank using her rope that she still holds the ends of. Remembering the description of the woman living here Cinder speaks a bit loudly, saying, “I don’t think that is the Frogmaiden Kestrell!”
Oh, that makes more sense. Mazin will take out a Javelin and stick it in the ground in front of him. He wants to have it within easy reach in case anything goes wrong.
As Altani speaks, he will look out to see if there is anyone or anything that responds/moves when she talks. perception23
The usually perceptive Mazin at first finds it hard to notice much beyond the apparent confrontation between his half-elven sorcerer companion and the strange frog person on the far bank, especially when the sharp eyed goliath spots the bone dagger at the creature's belt and the ready net that it holds in its webbed left hand. However, during a rare lull in the symphony of dragonfly *buzzing* and frog *croaking*, the attuned ears of the rugged barbarian detect another sound - a soft, almost childlike titter of *hehehehehe* laughter emnating it seems from the group of cyprus trees which screen the depths of the Northern bank.
As Mazin's narrowed stare scurtinises the area over the shoulder of the understandably distracted sorcerer, the large heavily muscled warrior spots a subtle movement against the trunk of a particularly gnarled and mossy old cyprus tree, as though a new small limb sprouted from the weathered brown-green trunk, rose upwards briefly and then was subsumed back into the knotted wood from which it emerged. As the limb retreats dissapears amidst the lichen covered bark, two tiny but bright white circles flash open momentarily from the trunk's mossy surface, before dissapearing as quickly as they appeared with a second baredly audible *hehehehehe*. The tree's hanging curtains of leaves, vines and interwoven wild-flowers likewise seem to sway at the sound, almost in concert with the mirth of the artfully hidden creature that Mazin has now identified.'
[OOC] While he cannot yet see it clearly, Mazin is confident that he has placed the location of the hidden creature that seems to be source of the laughter. The cyprus trunk on the Northbank where he saw the disguised arm and eyes appear is approximately 60' from the Goliath's current position on the Southbank.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Altani stomps on the muddy ground, lowering her javelin.
“Cypress, Frogmistress and beauty of the wilderness, please excuse my friends antics. I am Altani of the Windspeaker clan. We mean you and your home no harm. We have come to seek your guidance and to ask for your aid in helping us stop the murders of the lizardfolk that have been happening around the marsh. We consulted with the wise shaman Meerkthistle who said you may know who is responsible and sent us to seek you in your lovely home.
Your home, it is beautiful indeed, I have never seen anything like it before in my life”
'Watching as the seeming stand-off between the frog-like humanoid and her sorcerer ally continues, Altani calls out across the lagoon's water in the centaur warriors strong, clear voice, but recieves no response.'
[OOC] DM FYI: If bi- or multi-lingual PCs don't specify what language they are speaking to NPCs/monsters in, I will likely assume common as the default.
[OCC: Sorry Vassa, good point about the language.]
Altani repeats her speech, this time in a language that flows effortlessly with a musical quality [Sylvan]
While all of that is happening, C see tries to pull the moving log towards the far bank using her rope that she still holds the ends of. Remembering the description of the woman living here Cinder speaks a bit loudly, saying, “I don’t think that is the Frogmaiden Kestrell!”
"Oh, ah, thank you Cinder!"'Kestrell shouts in return and then continues to the frog creature:'
"Hello again then. I am Kestrell Halferson. My friends and I are looking for The Frogmaiden so that we can help the lizardfolk. Do you know where she is? And really, there is no need for the net. Or that knife. You seem reasonable, and we are not hostile. "
[OOC]: Not sure what, if any, roll is needed. So here is a generic roll: 16
'The green slime and lilly covered creature seems a little startled at Kestrell's shout, dropping into a half-crouch, with the net wielding arm pulling back as if to throw while the other hand reaches down to its belt as though to grab its crude small knife. However, when Kestrell makes no other loud sounds or sudden movements, the creatures calms noticeably, failing to complete either motion with its gangly green arms. In fact, as the squat, slime and muck coated huminoid listens to the calm and soothing voice of the taller blue-eyed human, it's net wielding arm lowers to its side. Unsure quite how or why he feels the way he does, the intuitive sorcerer gets the distinct impression that the creature is largely undecided on a course of action and is making no explicit effort to act in threatening manner.
Again, the half-elven spell-caster hears the tittering and distinctly feminine laughter from somewhere over his shoulder *hehehehehe*.'
[OOC] Kestrell's previous roll taken as an insight check to discern whether or not the sorcerer thinks that the frog creature means him harm.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Altani stomps on the muddy ground, lowering her javelin.
“Cypress, Frogmistress and beauty of the wilderness, please excuse my friends antics. I am Altani of the Windspeaker clan. We mean you and your home no harm. We have come to seek your guidance and to ask for your aid in helping us stop the murders of the lizardfolk that have been happening around the marsh. We consulted with the wise shaman Meerkthistle who said you may know who is responsible and sent us to seek you in your lovely home.
Your home, it is beautiful indeed, I have never seen anything like it before in my life”
'As Altani repeats her earlier words in the flowing, melodic cadence and tone of the Sylvan language, the centaur paladin notices an immediate reaction, with the frog creature spinning about on the opposite bank with it's too-wide mouth hanging agape to reveal two rows of small but sharp teeth, though the creature does not appear to be making any overtly hostile movements.
From the patchy gloom of the tangled vegetation behind her half-elven sorcerer companion, Altani sees a lithe but definitely feminine form step seemingly from the very trunk of the moss covered, flower adorned cyprus tree that the tiefling monk had pointed out upon their arrival. The mysterious tree woman, the dryad CyprusAltani presumes, would be considered beautiful by most standards despite her fey almost arboreal appearance. With sky blue eyes, skin of light Spring green and lips a pale brown, Cyrpus is indeed covered in a form-fitting gown of moss which seems to grow from her very body, while her green tussled hair flows upwards amidst a spray of twigs, flowers and braided vines, centered by a single perfectly formed acorn. Swirls of lighter coloured lichen decorate the forest creature's skin, almost like tatoos, though the sigils and emblems rest atop her skin and are formed of still living plant matter.
In an almost hypnotically pleasant voice reminiscent of gently swaying branches and softly rustling leaves, the dryad of Bullcroak Creek replies in the same melodic language spoken by the centaur paladin. Though the Frog Maiden speaks without raised voice, it is clearly discernable to all on the Southbank, as though the trees, bushes and grasses themselves echoed her words,'
"Welcome to my home, Altani Farbank. *hehehehehe* You do neither me nor my home harm... yet, so need beg no pardon of me. Beautiful it is though, yes? And therefore so am I, or so your kind say through your actions. Peeping eyes from yonder tree branches and foolishly cruel carved missives of longing. Though fewer come these days... perhaps my flowers wilt?*hehehehehe*
This one's flying antics are most ammusing to me and his elf-cast features I find pleasing to look upon. You also, plainsrunner. I would welcome you to cross, but know not whether your kind swim well or at all... and Leap here gets of so protective of my privacy. *hehehehehehe*
Thistleheart of the forked tongue I know, or knew, since as a hatchling she would swim these very waters and speak with me of her dreams. So long ago now, I guess, for her and others of your kind at least. Of this 'murder' you speak of I know not and guidance I may offer or not, as my fancy is taken. Why should my fancy favour you though, wearer of beaten metal? *hehehehehe* "
[OOC] Anyone who speaks Sylvan will understand the conversation taking place.
No worries about the language thing, Dream. It was relevant here, but it's also one of those general PSA's.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
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Alwin just stares forward focused intently on not falling into the water "We...'re almost th...ere" he says.
[OOC]
perception check: 8
Campaigns:
Wildemount: The Felderwin Irregulars (2020) - Balassar Silverstone - Dragonborn Fighter (Rune Knight) Lv. 5 | Rise of TIamat - Aiwin Aralana - Wood Elf Fighter/Ranger (Arcane Archer/Gloom Stalker) Lv. 9
'A long but thin brown scaled serpent slithers through the brush and into the water about thirty feet along the Eastern bank. Overhead, a pair of colourful rainbow feathered birds take flight, dancing and spinning aerobatically about each other above the lagoon's dark waters, before dissapearing into the trees on the North bank. A couple of the tiny bright green frogs hop into the water with small, almost impercetable *splashes*. A few of the surrounding Cyprus' uppermost branches are swaying in the stiff breeze that swirls above, but the foliage immediately around the lagoon seems well protected from the elements beyond. Apart from this, Altani detects no movement in the clearing that isn't being caused by her allies.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
Maintaining her balance, Cinder tries to think of a way through this scenario, and thinks of something. She ties a rope to her spear and throws it the fifteen feet to the other side of the pond, trying to anchor it.
17
'Poised on the tips of her feet, Cinder hurls her tied javelin up in the air towards the far side of the lagoon. The now weighted missile still easily clears the water's edge to come down point first with a wet *thud* to stick in the ground about three feet from the bank. The length of the rope clutched in the monk's other hand now trails into the murky water, sending further ripples out across the surface of the brackish pool, but this does not seem to elicit further disturbance from amidst the lilly pads. Indeed, the water there now appears calm and still.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
'Mazin reaches up to grip the living missile with one meaty hand on either side of the lean sorcerer's clothing, before launching Kestrell down, out and finally up over the lagoon water with a mighty heave. At the top of his pendulum like arc the daring half-elf releases his grip on the rope to sail up, out and, finally down towards the far bank. Hands windmilling about in a fair facsimile of Alwin's earlier attempt to balance, the motion proves ultimately futile as the acrobatic feat does not quite result in a smooth landing. Flailing towards the thankfully muddy ground from a height of around twenty plus feet at the top of his arc, Kestell crashes into the somewhat forgiving earth in a painful tangle of limbs and with a still audible *OOF* as the air is blasted from his lungs.'
[OOC] Kestrell takes 6 bludgeoning damage, is prone and if he fails a con save DC11 is stunned for 1 minutes from his collission with the muddy bank.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
[OOC]Constitution save: 24
'Kestrell jumps to his feet and flashes a thumbs up sign.'
"Thanks Mazin, that did the trick. Hurt like the dickens though. Hey Wazzock, come here and rub my knees for me, will you?"
'Kestrell looks around, surveying his new surroundings, looking to see if they are closer to the Cyprus tree that is hopefully hiding the Frogmaiden. He then uses his Mage Hand to take the rope back to dangle over Mazin.'
[OOC]Perception: 17
Ignoring his bumps and bruises well, Kestrell shakes the mud from his clothing and body. As the injured sorcerer summons his spectral hand and sends it across the lagoon, he is dismayed to see his conjuration vanish some distance from the far bank. Casting the spell and making the attempt again, the puzzled half-elf's efforts are met with similarly dissapointing results.
Still facing the far bank, Kestrell notices the top of something smooth and green begin to emerge from the water close to the nearby bank, as a five and a half foot tall frog like huminoid covered in pond slime and crude clothing formed from still living lilly pads and flowers pulls itself from the lagoon to stand ten feet from the wary sorcerer. At its vine belt, the yellow-eyed creature wears a primitive stone knife, while in its left webbed hand it clutches a dripping net of natural fibres.
Facing each other in a brief momentary stand-off, the perceptive half-elfs sharp hearing detects a melodic *hehehehehe* sound of light twittering laughter from the trees and brush behind him.'
[OOC] All PCs see Kestrell sail across the lagoon and crash into the far bank. All PCs see the strange frog like creature emerge from the lagoon to stand five feet from Kestrell on the far bank, about fifty feet away from all of you (except Cinder 30 feet and Alwin 40 feet to the creature).
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
"Hello Frogmistress! How are you on this fine day? No need for that net. Perhaps you should put it down, and allow myself to introduce...myself."
[OOC]Persuasion: 6
'Kestrell slowly sidesteps once or twice to try and get a sense of what the noise behind him was, without taking his eyes off of the frog creature.'
[OOC]Perception with disadvantage: 9
Altani stomps on the muddy ground, lowering her javelin.
“Cypress, Frogmistress and beauty of the wilderness, please excuse my friends antics. I am Altani of the Windspeaker clan. We mean you and your home no harm. We have come to seek your guidance and to ask for your aid in helping us stop the murders of the lizardfolk that have been happening around the marsh. We consulted with the wise shaman Meerkthistle who said you may know who is responsible and sent us to seek you in your lovely home.
Your home, it is beautiful indeed, I have never seen anything like it before in my life”
Persuasion 18
Yevna Galanodel - Wood Elf | Level 8 | Druid/Circle of Spores 6 - Ranger 2 - Ravnica
Nyx - Satyr | Level 9 | Rouge/Swashbuckler 5 - Bard/Collage of Lore 4 - Lost Mine of Phandelver/Storm King's Thunder
While all of that is happening, C see tries to pull the moving log towards the far bank using her rope that she still holds the ends of. Remembering the description of the woman living here Cinder speaks a bit loudly, saying, “I don’t think that is the Frogmaiden Kestrell!”
Mazin smiles as Kestrell lands on the other bank. He wasn't entirely sure he would make it all the way, but there you have it!
He looks to the others. "Anyone else want to swing over?" ((He will help anyone else who wants to climb or swing to the other side.))
'While the wet frog creature does not reach for its stone knife at Kestrell's movements, it does crouch somewhat and raise its dripping net wielding arm a little, letting a series of vibrating *croaks* and oscillating *clicks* emerge from its broad neck and gullet as its large black-slit yellow eyes rotate and follow the sorcerer's motions. The bruised and still muddy half-elf hears nothing behind him except for another twitter of almost child-like *hehehehehe* laughter.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
'Tugging on the now anchored rope with all her strength as she calls out to her now isolated ally, Cinder fails to move the long slime covered log at all towards the Northern bank, though her efforts do cause the slippery wooden length to again turn ever so slightly. Caught off-guard by the movement beneath her feet, the monk's otherwise poised balance is further compromised by the knotted rope pulling free of the embedded javelin with the now unattached coil of hemp whipping back to fall limp in the murky water.'
[OOC] Cinder and Alwin both need to make a dexterity saving throw DC11 or fall off the slippery log into the lagoon.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
'Watching as the seeming stand-off between the frog-like humanoid and her sorcerer ally continues, Altani calls out across the lagoon's water in the centaur warriors strong, clear voice, but recieves no response.'
[OOC] DM FYI: If bi- or multi-lingual PCs don't specify what language they are speaking to NPCs/monsters in, I will likely assume common as the default.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
Mazin looks over as the creature comes out of the water. He knew that they called it the Frogmaiden, but did not realize how literal it was.
Oh, that makes more sense. Mazin will take out a Javelin and stick it in the ground in front of him. He wants to have it within easy reach in case anything goes wrong.
As Altani speaks, he will look out to see if there is anyone or anything that responds/moves when she talks. perception 23
"Oh, ah, thank you Cinder!" 'Kestrell shouts in return and then continues to the frog creature:'
"Hello again then. I am Kestrell Halferson. My friends and I are looking for The Frogmaiden so that we can help the lizardfolk. Do you know where she is? And really, there is no need for the net. Or that knife. You seem reasonable, and we are not hostile. "
[OOC]: Not sure what, if any, roll is needed. So here is a generic roll: 4
The usually perceptive Mazin at first finds it hard to notice much beyond the apparent confrontation between his half-elven sorcerer companion and the strange frog person on the far bank, especially when the sharp eyed goliath spots the bone dagger at the creature's belt and the ready net that it holds in its webbed left hand. However, during a rare lull in the symphony of dragonfly *buzzing* and frog *croaking*, the attuned ears of the rugged barbarian detect another sound - a soft, almost childlike titter of *hehehehehe* laughter emnating it seems from the group of cyprus trees which screen the depths of the Northern bank.
As Mazin's narrowed stare scurtinises the area over the shoulder of the understandably distracted sorcerer, the large heavily muscled warrior spots a subtle movement against the trunk of a particularly gnarled and mossy old cyprus tree, as though a new small limb sprouted from the weathered brown-green trunk, rose upwards briefly and then was subsumed back into the knotted wood from which it emerged. As the limb retreats dissapears amidst the lichen covered bark, two tiny but bright white circles flash open momentarily from the trunk's mossy surface, before dissapearing as quickly as they appeared with a second baredly audible *hehehehehe*. The tree's hanging curtains of leaves, vines and interwoven wild-flowers likewise seem to sway at the sound, almost in concert with the mirth of the artfully hidden creature that Mazin has now identified.'
[OOC] While he cannot yet see it clearly, Mazin is confident that he has placed the location of the hidden creature that seems to be source of the laughter. The cyprus trunk on the Northbank where he saw the disguised arm and eyes appear is approximately 60' from the Goliath's current position on the Southbank.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
[OCC: Sorry Vassa, good point about the language.]
Altani repeats her speech, this time in a language that flows effortlessly with a musical quality [Sylvan]
Second persuasion roll if needed Persuasion 18
Yevna Galanodel - Wood Elf | Level 8 | Druid/Circle of Spores 6 - Ranger 2 - Ravnica
Nyx - Satyr | Level 9 | Rouge/Swashbuckler 5 - Bard/Collage of Lore 4 - Lost Mine of Phandelver/Storm King's Thunder
'The green slime and lilly covered creature seems a little startled at Kestrell's shout, dropping into a half-crouch, with the net wielding arm pulling back as if to throw while the other hand reaches down to its belt as though to grab its crude small knife. However, when Kestrell makes no other loud sounds or sudden movements, the creatures calms noticeably, failing to complete either motion with its gangly green arms. In fact, as the squat, slime and muck coated huminoid listens to the calm and soothing voice of the taller blue-eyed human, it's net wielding arm lowers to its side. Unsure quite how or why he feels the way he does, the intuitive sorcerer gets the distinct impression that the creature is largely undecided on a course of action and is making no explicit effort to act in threatening manner.
Again, the half-elven spell-caster hears the tittering and distinctly feminine laughter from somewhere over his shoulder *hehehehehe*.'
[OOC] Kestrell's previous roll taken as an insight check to discern whether or not the sorcerer thinks that the frog creature means him harm.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
'As Altani repeats her earlier words in the flowing, melodic cadence and tone of the Sylvan language, the centaur paladin notices an immediate reaction, with the frog creature spinning about on the opposite bank with it's too-wide mouth hanging agape to reveal two rows of small but sharp teeth, though the creature does not appear to be making any overtly hostile movements.
From the patchy gloom of the tangled vegetation behind her half-elven sorcerer companion, Altani sees a lithe but definitely feminine form step seemingly from the very trunk of the moss covered, flower adorned cyprus tree that the tiefling monk had pointed out upon their arrival. The mysterious tree woman, the dryad Cyprus Altani presumes, would be considered beautiful by most standards despite her fey almost arboreal appearance. With sky blue eyes, skin of light Spring green and lips a pale brown, Cyrpus is indeed covered in a form-fitting gown of moss which seems to grow from her very body, while her green tussled hair flows upwards amidst a spray of twigs, flowers and braided vines, centered by a single perfectly formed acorn. Swirls of lighter coloured lichen decorate the forest creature's skin, almost like tatoos, though the sigils and emblems rest atop her skin and are formed of still living plant matter.
In an almost hypnotically pleasant voice reminiscent of gently swaying branches and softly rustling leaves, the dryad of Bullcroak Creek replies in the same melodic language spoken by the centaur paladin. Though the Frog Maiden speaks without raised voice, it is clearly discernable to all on the Southbank, as though the trees, bushes and grasses themselves echoed her words,'
"Welcome to my home, Altani Farbank. *hehehehehe* You do neither me nor my home harm... yet, so need beg no pardon of me. Beautiful it is though, yes? And therefore so am I, or so your kind say through your actions. Peeping eyes from yonder tree branches and foolishly cruel carved missives of longing. Though fewer come these days... perhaps my flowers wilt?*hehehehehe*
This one's flying antics are most ammusing to me and his elf-cast features I find pleasing to look upon. You also, plainsrunner. I would welcome you to cross, but know not whether your kind swim well or at all... and Leap here gets of so protective of my privacy. *hehehehehehe*
Thistleheart of the forked tongue I know, or knew, since as a hatchling she would swim these very waters and speak with me of her dreams. So long ago now, I guess, for her and others of your kind at least. Of this 'murder' you speak of I know not and guidance I may offer or not, as my fancy is taken. Why should my fancy favour you though, wearer of beaten metal? *hehehehehe* "
[OOC] Anyone who speaks Sylvan will understand the conversation taking place.
No worries about the language thing, Dream. It was relevant here, but it's also one of those general PSA's.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea