Kess looks around, and listens with her keen elven ears, trying to figure out where the elusive wisp, is, but even with Chrys pointing and calling out, she is unable to discern an accurate location to aim her spell. The best she could do is guess…
…which is exactly what Alae does. The frustrated firbolg casts her frosty cantrip and sends a thin ray of icy energy towards the location where she thinks the wisp is hiding. However, she watches as the cold, blue stream of magic shoots unimpeded through the air and dissipates when it reaches the 60’ of its maximum range.
Lumen and Chrys are up. Chrys still knows the location of the wisp, but only until the end of her upcoming turn.
Lumen again sings an odd, keening sound and casts dissonant whispers on the will-o-wisp. (It can target a creature Lumen can't see: "You whisper a discordant melody that only one creature of your choice within range can hear, wracking it with terrible pain."). 10 damage rolled on sheet, on failed WIS 16 save, or half on success.
He inspires Nym with his bonus action. What is the troll doing?
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Chrys switches to her hammer, grunting, and takes a swing at Velarken. "I ain't no dragon friend, but what ya did to that black one was foul," she grumbles. "Duin let me knock some sense into ya!"
Move: up to that wisp Free action: Draw Due Process Action: Attack Wisp Attack 1: 18 (with disadvantage) Attack 2: 20 (with disadvantage)
Assuming any of those hit: Damage for hit 1: 13 + Divine Smite Lvl 2 against undead, 3d8: 19 Damage for hit 2: 13 + Divine Smite Lvl 2 against undead, 3d8: 11
** In sticking in the AOO attack, the dice roller changed my original rolls. Attack 1 to hit with disadvantage was 19 (dropped a crit), damage was 6+17 smite Attack 2 to hit with disadvantage was 20, damage was 11+16 smite This dice roller is really crappy, and I don't have a DnD Beyond sheet. :/ ** (* In the case of a disonnant whispers AOO chance - I'm not sure if those even exist or not anymore:) AOO attack: 11 (disadvantage)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
(I'll only use inspiration if the 19 and the 20 didn't hit in the first place. As for the AOO... that number changes every time I load this page, so who knows XD If an AOO is possible and the number is actually 12 to hit, the Inspiration to add to that would be: 7 )
Whatever strange sense of consciousness that still remains inside the lingering, incorproreal form that was Valkarken, a former Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate, instantly becomes wracked with terrible pain when Lumen whispers the eerie words of his spell. None of you can see or hear any effects from the spell, though, save for Chrys, who knows that the silent and still invisible wisp has suddenly shifted positions.
The hair on her arms stands up on end, and she feels a sense of foul evil waft right past her. As it does, she quickly brandishes her hammer, but the awkward swing doesn't seem to connect with anything but air. However, a few seconds later, she is still aware of the foul presence, barely 30 feet to her right. Gripping Due Process firmly in her hand, Chrys turns and hustles towards the location where she knows the wisp is located, the feeling of noxious evil increasing as she gets closer.
Focusing on the location of this foul, twisted creature, and aided by the holy power bestowed upon her by the Duin, Chrysoberyl attacks with all of her might. She feels a slight resistance, as if she's swinging her weapon against a strong wind, but she knows that her aim is true when a brilliant flash of radiant light explodes forth from the head of Due Process.
When the flash fades, Chrys no longer feels any sense of evil around her, and the pleasant combination of pine and woody, earthy aromas of the forest fills her nostrils once again.
Training your gaze towards the woods on the north side of the little clearing, you don't see the troll anymore. It seems to have fled. After all, you bombarded it with a formidable series of attacks, with Alae encasing it in ice, Kess hitting it with a fire bolt, Lumen taunting it with horrific psychic magic, and Chris sticking it with one of her javelins, all before it even had a chance to act on its own. As nasty and brutish as trolls are, they possess at least some level of intelligence, as well as a survival instinct. Perhaps it recognized you as the wrong fight to pick.
And, considering the fact that it appeared with the wisp, which you know had the ability to corrupt the minds of other creatures, there's a chance that the troll was also influenced by the tiny undead spirit. With the wisp now dead, that bond would likely be broken and the troll would have no incentive to stay and fight a losing battle.
"Well," Chrys says, slinging her hammer over her shoulder, "I guess that's that." Her brow quirks. "Ya think that was really Velarken? That thing that possessed the dragon?" She shook her head. "Blazes. Why didn't someone do that ta him earlier, huh?"
She eyes the dark forest around her, and then grimaces. "Well, regardless... I can't tell my foot from my hammer out here," she says, exaggerating a bit, but still gestures for effect. "Rather than crashin' 'round the brush an' fallin' into a bog face-first, why don't we think 'bout gettin' back somewhere safe an' waitin' for the light o' the dawn to keep on goin'."
She looks at Nym. "Uh... so long as we ain't lost, that is. We're still goin' to meet up with yer druid friend, yeah?"
"It was hard to see it, let alone hit it!" Lumen says. "Nice work. Most people would have turned tail and run away, you realize. But not the... Pie Pals. Dawnbringers. What have you. I'll have to get working on another ballad, this one about Chrys Wispslayer. And yes, let's find a safe place to wait out the night and get some rest before the rest of our journey. I'm getting eager to return to a town. We've been gone a long time."
A reminder - you guys have been traveling along Aelar's secret trail that passes through the heavily wooded terrain. This was the end of your second day since leaving Ravensglade Keep, and you had stopped for the night in this small, comfortable clearing. You were basically getting ready to hunker down to sleep when Lumen spotted the troll.
To keep things moving along, we can say that you spend the rest of the night here while keeping a vigilant watch. With the large troll now gone, and the wisp defeated, you rest easy and encounter no more trouble during the night. In the morning, you wake to rays of sunlight that stream through breaks in the thick foliage around you and briefly light up the clearing with a beautiful orange glow. According to Aelar's instructions, it should only take you two more days to Dauric's tree.
Being the 6th day of Eleint, The Fading month, the autumnal equinox is but a few days away. The leaves here have not started to change colors yet, but you can you can feel a slight coolness in the air that tells you that fall is indeed approaching.
"Chrys Wispslayer?" Chrys says to Lumen. She rubs her chin, thinking. "Well, I s'ppose you could ham it up fer yer songs like that. But y'know, I'm pretty proud o' my own name. Chrysoberyl Vos'rorn." She pronounces the dwarven accent carefully. "Mayhap that I left my family on less than the best o' terms, but clan's important to us dwarves, see? My name is somethin' my parents gave me, and I try to do it proud. They thought I'd make 'em a pretty little daughter, so they named me after a pretty little gem, the Chrysoberyl. An' our family name is more in keepin' with what my heart told me ta do, which wasn't sittin' pretty. Vos in our tongue means unruly, an' Rorn means destruction. So my parents actually named me their pretty lil' gem o' unruly destruction." She grins. "An' that's 'bout all the dwarvish I'm feelin' 'bout teaching tonight. Let's get some rest... though I can take the first watch."
Evening comes, and morning follows. Waking up early, Chrys says her morning prayers to the rising sun, thanking the Duin for giving her the strength to continue on her journey, every single day. The story she told Lumen last night, however, leaves her feeling a bit homesick. And so, she takes an extra few minutes to pray for her family at home, as well as her friends and companions, wishing for their safety and prosperity in her absence. As she considers the days of travel ahead of the group, she throws in an unusual, thoughtless prayer for herself, as well: "An' I hope I can keep up with the rest o' them long-legged striders without wearin' holes through my boots!"
To her surprise, she feels the gentle touch of the Watchful Eye answering her, pulling from her a thread of divine power and shaping it into ... a rather familiar, stout creature before her. He's larger than she remembered, and certainly looks more intelligent than before.
"Lupin?" she says, rising to her feet. The goat brays and prances forward, butting its muzzle under her hand. A smile breaks out over Chrys's face. "Well I'll be. Thank ya, Duin. I sure ain't gonna look a gift goat in the mouth!"
Cast: Find Steed Summon: warhorse (flavor: it looks like a large, dwarf-mount-sized goat)
Chrys seems to swing her hammer wildly into the air, but
FLASH
An explosion of light as the hammer connects with... something. Alae shields her eyes against the brightness, and when she is able to look back there is stillness.
In the dark, Chrys questions why no one had been able to destroy the wisp, the old spirit, before. "Perhaps it had to be you," Alae ponders. "None of us here could sense him, except for you. Perhaps in the weave of history, his end was always to come at your hand. Or perhaps his manipulations simply kept him out of reach of those who might destroy him. Who can say." She rubs her eyes. "Let's just stay here tonight. I think we all need to rest."
Lifting her arms in a gesture of welcome, she speaks out loud, her voice layered in those hidden frequencies known only to the wild forces of nature, and which are second nature to Firbolgs (Speech of Beast and Leaf). "Beasts and trees of these woods - we have cleansed your home of this taint, this evil spirit. I ask you now to please watch over us as we sleep, and warn us of approaching danger that we might defend ourselves."
Her request made, she flops to the floor, lies down spread-eagled, and begins to snore.
The chill woke her in the morning. Despite the icy powers she wielded due to the ancient Draconic influence on her blood, she had always felt the cold as keenly as anyone else. It was only her fur that offered any protection, even against her own magic. Her magic... she had done it again last night, not just creating ice and cold, but breathing it, and she had controlled it this time. Back in the Elven keep it had been a reaction, an outward expression of her anger at the black dragon, but last night she had chosen to do it. Was she becoming more dragon-like the longer she spent away from her ancestral lands? Or was it the battles which brought her blood to a boil - what would she become if she kept using her magic like that? Was it her imagination, or could she feel more scales on her arms, hidden under her fur? No, just imagination. But perhaps she ought to be careful, to find out more. Out here in the world someone must have knowledge of these things. Maybe this Dauric would know.
Having not unpacked anything last night, simply sleeping on the ground, she has nothing to pack away, but she does eat some rations and take a draught from her water, and wait until everyone is awake before commenting "We should move soon. We still yet have two days of travel left to Nym's druid friend."
Kess, for her part, found sleep very difficult to come by. Though relieved that the troll had chosen to flee rather than fight, the tension didn't seem to truly leave her, even after she took a couple hours watch and as she curled up and did her best to try and sleep. Most elves simply elected to take a revelry instead of mundane slumber, but there was a comfort to blankets and a bedroll for Kess. But on this night, in the middle of the forest with the sounds of the night all around her, that did precious little to soothe her into restfulness.
Kess looked down at Moonpetal, and then her hands... then at her other scimitar, the scrimshaw pommel one of her only links to home.
Home. Home was so far away now. Weeks, months over the leagues of Faerun, past the Spine of the World and yetis and orcs and the gods only knew what terrors lay hidden in the mountains. For a moment, Kess felt herself drift from within the forest clearing, back through the years. Exceptionally young for an elf, Kess found herself remembering her early years in Lonelywood, under the watchful eye of her scholarly mother, who often stood sentinel with a staff in hand, her fair face curled into a smile. How she used to laugh and play in the woods, watch the winter snows, hear the hustle and bustle of the local scrimshanders, traders and fishermen. The arguments over whether Bryn Shander or Targos of Lonelywood would win the Kelvin's Cairn Snowboarding Race or the Knucklehead Fishing Derby held every year at the end of summer. Her earliest of memories, where she had vague recollections of who she presumed was her father? Her mother always kept mum on the subject when asked. Why was that? Was it her past with the Brotherhood?
Her mother. What her mother think of her now? The two hadn't parted on the best terms... Kess had wanted to know more, to know adventure, to see what was out in the world... and her mother, Kalanria, had said she wasn't ready. Kess wanted adventure and travel and excitement; Kalanria had respectfully commanded books and scholarly pursuits and magic. Kess wanted dancing and fashion and discovery; Kalanria had sought cloistered and clerical pursuits for her daughter. It made Kess chafe and feel... crazy. She had felt trapped. Chained. Held back.
Kess thought back to the day she left. What hadn't been worse in her mind wasn't the the desperate cries of her mother as she ran off... No, thinking back on it, it was the gaze of absolute loneliness and disappointment on her mother's face that made Kess's heart ache. The sadness in her eyes had said it all.
"Kessdarra, wait! Don't leave! Kessdarra!"
And though she surely had the power... she didn't try to stop her. Why?
And now, here she was, with a dragon's power now partially within her... and wondering if she should have maybe listened.
Kess took a moment to compose herself, wiped the hints of tears forming in her eyes as she looked north, and curled up into a fetal ball, doing as best she could to stay steady and sleep.
Maybe she should try to learn more of the Art of dweomer... but more than anything, she missed her mother in this moment.
-------------
The next morning, Kess stretched herself, quietly made herself ready and checked her weapons, gazing heavens word to get a sense of the weather.
"I hope everybody slept well," She says, doing her best to hide the troubled expression on her face, smiling genuinely if with some weariness. "I agree; the sooner we get moving, the better."
It was a sight to behold the warrior, no, Paladin, work her craft by managing to hit an invisible and practically intangible target of undead energy. The light from Chrys' hammer burning into the drow's sensitive eyes even with a raised hand. The oppressive air hadn't been very noticeable to Nym until she felt it's absence and wondered in awe at their dwarven companion. She had nearly forgotten about the troll until she saw Lumen face it and take a step forward, only to see that it was retreating. Perhaps it was a victim of the wisp's control as Duskbringer had been. Though clearly different... Sheathing her sword, she couldn't help but chuckle at Chrys' wondering as to why someone didn't do such a thing sooner and nodded in agreement with Alae. "She's right, if anyone was going to end him, it'd be you."
When Lumen brought up the group's old name, Nym couldn't help but laugh, a bright if startled thing that made the air feel lighter, "Still trying to keep 'Pie Pals' around Lumen?"Glancing to Alae with mirthful eyes, she shook her head. Giving a considering look to Lumen's proposed title to their wisp slaying friend, Nym became enthralled in the mini dwarven language lesson they were receiving. The dialect was so foreign to her it felt exotic.
The Dawnbringers settled down as night brought in the chill of the night, the fire at their camp keeping them warm in their bedrolls. The fluctuating temperatures were something Nym wasn't sure she'd ever get used to or appreciate fully, even if she did enjoy the surface. She took first watch and thought of what lay ahead of them. It would be a joy to see Duaric again. Though she couldn't help but be just the slightest bit uneasy with bringing others so near lil Velkyn Obsul... Guilt tugged at her in two directions as she stared up past the forest canopy into the night sky, trying to decide whether to say anything or simply stay silent was the best option.
Praying to Eilistraee for guidance to do what was right for her people as well as her new friends, Nym thanked her for all the Dark Maiden had done for them. Swearing to uphold her teachings faithfully.
Nym's trance was not a peaceful meditation but a brutal rehash of old fights from when she had been much too young. She came too groggily with muscles stiff from the chill but her morning stretches helped. Meeting Kess' smile with a quiet one of her own, the drow met the elf's eyes with silent understanding. Simply resting her hand on the other woman's upper arm for a moment as she offered her some light breakfast. "Yes, you're right. And yes, my druid friend, Duaric, is about two days away. I believe his tree home is on the way."
Sighing at Lumen's comment, Nym said with unconcealed longing, "It would be nice to visit a real town at least once before we have to go to the Underdark again." Though the 'again' likely only referred to her.
Despite the heavy growth in this part of the forest, Aelar's secret trail allows you to make good time and cover quite a bit of ground during the third day. It makes you understand how quickly he and Lia were able to make it from Ravensglade to Dauric's tree in so little time, especially since he mentioned that they were riding elks, which can travel at nearly twice the pace of most humanoids.
During the course of the day, you traverse up and over a series of small hills that provide you with splendid views of the surrounding forest for miles around. You can actually see small pockets of maples off in the distance starring to show their first autumn colors. These open hills also offer a chance to feel the warm sun on your faces before you descend back into the cooler undergrowth.
At one point on the trail during the late afternoon, you come across what looks like a long, narrow strip of cloth lying on the ground. Upon closer inspection, it appears to be heavily stained with blood.
Chrys watches Lumen inspecting something on the ground from the back of her goat, and leans over. "What'cha got there?" When he steps back to reveal the soiled cloth, her nose wrinkles. "Huh. Wonder if something's waitin' fer us out here. Kess, Nym, or Silver... any o' you better at this naturalist business? Maybe one o' you could see if there be any tracks tellin' us what's what 'bout this scrap o' bloody cloth? I fear someone may've met a bad end out here. That, or be needin' our help on account o' bein' terribly injured. Does that look like a bandage or somethin', maybe?" she asks Lumen.
As for herself, she closes her eyes and reaches with senses other than the physical, seeking any hint of an unclean presence in the vicinity with her Divine Sense. (60' celestial, fiend, undead, or the hallow spell, not behind total cover.)
Kess looks around, and listens with her keen elven ears, trying to figure out where the elusive wisp, is, but even with Chrys pointing and calling out, she is unable to discern an accurate location to aim her spell. The best she could do is guess…
…which is exactly what Alae does. The frustrated firbolg casts her frosty cantrip and sends a thin ray of icy energy towards the location where she thinks the wisp is hiding. However, she watches as the cold, blue stream of magic shoots unimpeded through the air and dissipates when it reaches the 60’ of its maximum range.
Lumen and Chrys are up. Chrys still knows the location of the wisp, but only until the end of her upcoming turn.
Lumen again sings an odd, keening sound and casts dissonant whispers on the will-o-wisp. (It can target a creature Lumen can't see: "You whisper a discordant melody that only one creature of your choice within range can hear, wracking it with terrible pain."). 10 damage rolled on sheet, on failed WIS 16 save, or half on success.
He inspires Nym with his bonus action. What is the troll doing?
Chrys switches to her hammer, grunting, and takes a swing at Velarken. "I ain't no dragon friend, but what ya did to that black one was foul," she grumbles. "Duin let me knock some sense into ya!"
Move: up to that wisp
Free action: Draw Due Process
Action: Attack Wisp
Attack 1: 18 (with disadvantage)
Attack 2: 20 (with disadvantage)
Assuming any of those hit:
Damage for hit 1: 13 + Divine Smite Lvl 2 against undead, 3d8: 19
Damage for hit 2: 13 + Divine Smite Lvl 2 against undead, 3d8: 11
** In sticking in the AOO attack, the dice roller changed my original rolls.
Attack 1 to hit with disadvantage was 19 (dropped a crit), damage was 6+17 smite
Attack 2 to hit with disadvantage was 20, damage was 11+16 smite
This dice roller is really crappy, and I don't have a DnD Beyond sheet. :/ **
(* In the case of a disonnant whispers AOO chance - I'm not sure if those even exist or not anymore:)
AOO attack: 11 (disadvantage)
Remember inspiration too!
(I'll only use inspiration if the 19 and the 20 didn't hit in the first place. As for the AOO... that number changes every time I load this page, so who knows XD If an AOO is possible and the number is actually 12 to hit, the Inspiration to add to that would be: 7 )
(... and if a 19 on an AOO hits, the damage would be: 10)
Wisp WIS Save: 5
Whatever strange sense of consciousness that still remains inside the lingering, incorproreal form that was Valkarken, a former Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate, instantly becomes wracked with terrible pain when Lumen whispers the eerie words of his spell. None of you can see or hear any effects from the spell, though, save for Chrys, who knows that the silent and still invisible wisp has suddenly shifted positions.
The hair on her arms stands up on end, and she feels a sense of foul evil waft right past her. As it does, she quickly brandishes her hammer, but the awkward swing doesn't seem to connect with anything but air. However, a few seconds later, she is still aware of the foul presence, barely 30 feet to her right. Gripping Due Process firmly in her hand, Chrys turns and hustles towards the location where she knows the wisp is located, the feeling of noxious evil increasing as she gets closer.
Focusing on the location of this foul, twisted creature, and aided by the holy power bestowed upon her by the Duin, Chrysoberyl attacks with all of her might. She feels a slight resistance, as if she's swinging her weapon against a strong wind, but she knows that her aim is true when a brilliant flash of radiant light explodes forth from the head of Due Process.
When the flash fades, Chrys no longer feels any sense of evil around her, and the pleasant combination of pine and woody, earthy aromas of the forest fills her nostrils once again.
Lumen watches this in awe, nodding to Chrys in respect, and then turns to locate the troll, ready to viciously mock it...
Training your gaze towards the woods on the north side of the little clearing, you don't see the troll anymore. It seems to have fled. After all, you bombarded it with a formidable series of attacks, with Alae encasing it in ice, Kess hitting it with a fire bolt, Lumen taunting it with horrific psychic magic, and Chris sticking it with one of her javelins, all before it even had a chance to act on its own. As nasty and brutish as trolls are, they possess at least some level of intelligence, as well as a survival instinct. Perhaps it recognized you as the wrong fight to pick.
And, considering the fact that it appeared with the wisp, which you know had the ability to corrupt the minds of other creatures, there's a chance that the troll was also influenced by the tiny undead spirit. With the wisp now dead, that bond would likely be broken and the troll would have no incentive to stay and fight a losing battle.
"Well," Chrys says, slinging her hammer over her shoulder, "I guess that's that." Her brow quirks. "Ya think that was really Velarken? That thing that possessed the dragon?" She shook her head. "Blazes. Why didn't someone do that ta him earlier, huh?"
She eyes the dark forest around her, and then grimaces. "Well, regardless... I can't tell my foot from my hammer out here," she says, exaggerating a bit, but still gestures for effect. "Rather than crashin' 'round the brush an' fallin' into a bog face-first, why don't we think 'bout gettin' back somewhere safe an' waitin' for the light o' the dawn to keep on goin'."
She looks at Nym. "Uh... so long as we ain't lost, that is. We're still goin' to meet up with yer druid friend, yeah?"
"It was hard to see it, let alone hit it!" Lumen says. "Nice work. Most people would have turned tail and run away, you realize. But not the... Pie Pals. Dawnbringers. What have you. I'll have to get working on another ballad, this one about Chrys Wispslayer. And yes, let's find a safe place to wait out the night and get some rest before the rest of our journey. I'm getting eager to return to a town. We've been gone a long time."
A reminder - you guys have been traveling along Aelar's secret trail that passes through the heavily wooded terrain. This was the end of your second day since leaving Ravensglade Keep, and you had stopped for the night in this small, comfortable clearing. You were basically getting ready to hunker down to sleep when Lumen spotted the troll.
To keep things moving along, we can say that you spend the rest of the night here while keeping a vigilant watch. With the large troll now gone, and the wisp defeated, you rest easy and encounter no more trouble during the night. In the morning, you wake to rays of sunlight that stream through breaks in the thick foliage around you and briefly light up the clearing with a beautiful orange glow. According to Aelar's instructions, it should only take you two more days to Dauric's tree.
Being the 6th day of Eleint, The Fading month, the autumnal equinox is but a few days away. The leaves here have not started to change colors yet, but you can you can feel a slight coolness in the air that tells you that fall is indeed approaching.
(The evening previous...)
"Chrys Wispslayer?" Chrys says to Lumen. She rubs her chin, thinking. "Well, I s'ppose you could ham it up fer yer songs like that. But y'know, I'm pretty proud o' my own name. Chrysoberyl Vos'rorn." She pronounces the dwarven accent carefully. "Mayhap that I left my family on less than the best o' terms, but clan's important to us dwarves, see? My name is somethin' my parents gave me, and I try to do it proud. They thought I'd make 'em a pretty little daughter, so they named me after a pretty little gem, the Chrysoberyl. An' our family name is more in keepin' with what my heart told me ta do, which wasn't sittin' pretty. Vos in our tongue means unruly, an' Rorn means destruction. So my parents actually named me their pretty lil' gem o' unruly destruction." She grins. "An' that's 'bout all the dwarvish I'm feelin' 'bout teaching tonight. Let's get some rest... though I can take the first watch."
Evening comes, and morning follows. Waking up early, Chrys says her morning prayers to the rising sun, thanking the Duin for giving her the strength to continue on her journey, every single day. The story she told Lumen last night, however, leaves her feeling a bit homesick. And so, she takes an extra few minutes to pray for her family at home, as well as her friends and companions, wishing for their safety and prosperity in her absence. As she considers the days of travel ahead of the group, she throws in an unusual, thoughtless prayer for herself, as well: "An' I hope I can keep up with the rest o' them long-legged striders without wearin' holes through my boots!"
To her surprise, she feels the gentle touch of the Watchful Eye answering her, pulling from her a thread of divine power and shaping it into ... a rather familiar, stout creature before her. He's larger than she remembered, and certainly looks more intelligent than before.
"Lupin?" she says, rising to her feet. The goat brays and prances forward, butting its muzzle under her hand. A smile breaks out over Chrys's face. "Well I'll be. Thank ya, Duin. I sure ain't gonna look a gift goat in the mouth!"
Cast: Find Steed
Summon: warhorse (flavor: it looks like a large, dwarf-mount-sized goat)
Chrys seems to swing her hammer wildly into the air, but
FLASH
An explosion of light as the hammer connects with... something. Alae shields her eyes against the brightness, and when she is able to look back there is stillness.
In the dark, Chrys questions why no one had been able to destroy the wisp, the old spirit, before. "Perhaps it had to be you," Alae ponders. "None of us here could sense him, except for you. Perhaps in the weave of history, his end was always to come at your hand. Or perhaps his manipulations simply kept him out of reach of those who might destroy him. Who can say." She rubs her eyes. "Let's just stay here tonight. I think we all need to rest."
Lifting her arms in a gesture of welcome, she speaks out loud, her voice layered in those hidden frequencies known only to the wild forces of nature, and which are second nature to Firbolgs (Speech of Beast and Leaf). "Beasts and trees of these woods - we have cleansed your home of this taint, this evil spirit. I ask you now to please watch over us as we sleep, and warn us of approaching danger that we might defend ourselves."
Her request made, she flops to the floor, lies down spread-eagled, and begins to snore.
The chill woke her in the morning. Despite the icy powers she wielded due to the ancient Draconic influence on her blood, she had always felt the cold as keenly as anyone else. It was only her fur that offered any protection, even against her own magic. Her magic... she had done it again last night, not just creating ice and cold, but breathing it, and she had controlled it this time. Back in the Elven keep it had been a reaction, an outward expression of her anger at the black dragon, but last night she had chosen to do it. Was she becoming more dragon-like the longer she spent away from her ancestral lands? Or was it the battles which brought her blood to a boil - what would she become if she kept using her magic like that? Was it her imagination, or could she feel more scales on her arms, hidden under her fur? No, just imagination. But perhaps she ought to be careful, to find out more. Out here in the world someone must have knowledge of these things. Maybe this Dauric would know.
Having not unpacked anything last night, simply sleeping on the ground, she has nothing to pack away, but she does eat some rations and take a draught from her water, and wait until everyone is awake before commenting "We should move soon. We still yet have two days of travel left to Nym's druid friend."
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
(The night previous)
Kess, for her part, found sleep very difficult to come by. Though relieved that the troll had chosen to flee rather than fight, the tension didn't seem to truly leave her, even after she took a couple hours watch and as she curled up and did her best to try and sleep. Most elves simply elected to take a revelry instead of mundane slumber, but there was a comfort to blankets and a bedroll for Kess. But on this night, in the middle of the forest with the sounds of the night all around her, that did precious little to soothe her into restfulness.
Kess looked down at Moonpetal, and then her hands... then at her other scimitar, the scrimshaw pommel one of her only links to home.
Home. Home was so far away now. Weeks, months over the leagues of Faerun, past the Spine of the World and yetis and orcs and the gods only knew what terrors lay hidden in the mountains. For a moment, Kess felt herself drift from within the forest clearing, back through the years. Exceptionally young for an elf, Kess found herself remembering her early years in Lonelywood, under the watchful eye of her scholarly mother, who often stood sentinel with a staff in hand, her fair face curled into a smile. How she used to laugh and play in the woods, watch the winter snows, hear the hustle and bustle of the local scrimshanders, traders and fishermen. The arguments over whether Bryn Shander or Targos of Lonelywood would win the Kelvin's Cairn Snowboarding Race or the Knucklehead Fishing Derby held every year at the end of summer. Her earliest of memories, where she had vague recollections of who she presumed was her father? Her mother always kept mum on the subject when asked. Why was that? Was it her past with the Brotherhood?
Her mother. What her mother think of her now? The two hadn't parted on the best terms... Kess had wanted to know more, to know adventure, to see what was out in the world... and her mother, Kalanria, had said she wasn't ready. Kess wanted adventure and travel and excitement; Kalanria had respectfully commanded books and scholarly pursuits and magic. Kess wanted dancing and fashion and discovery; Kalanria had sought cloistered and clerical pursuits for her daughter. It made Kess chafe and feel... crazy. She had felt trapped. Chained. Held back.
Kess thought back to the day she left. What hadn't been worse in her mind wasn't the the desperate cries of her mother as she ran off... No, thinking back on it, it was the gaze of absolute loneliness and disappointment on her mother's face that made Kess's heart ache. The sadness in her eyes had said it all.
"Kessdarra, wait! Don't leave! Kessdarra!"
And though she surely had the power... she didn't try to stop her. Why?
And now, here she was, with a dragon's power now partially within her... and wondering if she should have maybe listened.
Kess took a moment to compose herself, wiped the hints of tears forming in her eyes as she looked north, and curled up into a fetal ball, doing as best she could to stay steady and sleep.
Maybe she should try to learn more of the Art of dweomer... but more than anything, she missed her mother in this moment.
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The next morning, Kess stretched herself, quietly made herself ready and checked her weapons, gazing heavens word to get a sense of the weather.
"I hope everybody slept well," She says, doing her best to hide the troubled expression on her face, smiling genuinely if with some weariness. "I agree; the sooner we get moving, the better."
It was a sight to behold the warrior, no, Paladin, work her craft by managing to hit an invisible and practically intangible target of undead energy. The light from Chrys' hammer burning into the drow's sensitive eyes even with a raised hand. The oppressive air hadn't been very noticeable to Nym until she felt it's absence and wondered in awe at their dwarven companion. She had nearly forgotten about the troll until she saw Lumen face it and take a step forward, only to see that it was retreating. Perhaps it was a victim of the wisp's control as Duskbringer had been. Though clearly different... Sheathing her sword, she couldn't help but chuckle at Chrys' wondering as to why someone didn't do such a thing sooner and nodded in agreement with Alae. "She's right, if anyone was going to end him, it'd be you."
When Lumen brought up the group's old name, Nym couldn't help but laugh, a bright if startled thing that made the air feel lighter, "Still trying to keep 'Pie Pals' around Lumen?" Glancing to Alae with mirthful eyes, she shook her head.
Giving a considering look to Lumen's proposed title to their wisp slaying friend, Nym became enthralled in the mini dwarven language lesson they were receiving. The dialect was so foreign to her it felt exotic.
The Dawnbringers settled down as night brought in the chill of the night, the fire at their camp keeping them warm in their bedrolls. The fluctuating temperatures were something Nym wasn't sure she'd ever get used to or appreciate fully, even if she did enjoy the surface. She took first watch and thought of what lay ahead of them. It would be a joy to see Duaric again. Though she couldn't help but be just the slightest bit uneasy with bringing others so near lil Velkyn Obsul... Guilt tugged at her in two directions as she stared up past the forest canopy into the night sky, trying to decide whether to say anything or simply stay silent was the best option.
Praying to Eilistraee for guidance to do what was right for her people as well as her new friends, Nym thanked her for all the Dark Maiden had done for them. Swearing to uphold her teachings faithfully.
Nym's trance was not a peaceful meditation but a brutal rehash of old fights from when she had been much too young. She came too groggily with muscles stiff from the chill but her morning stretches helped. Meeting Kess' smile with a quiet one of her own, the drow met the elf's eyes with silent understanding. Simply resting her hand on the other woman's upper arm for a moment as she offered her some light breakfast. "Yes, you're right. And yes, my druid friend, Duaric, is about two days away. I believe his tree home is on the way."
Sighing at Lumen's comment, Nym said with unconcealed longing, "It would be nice to visit a real town at least once before we have to go to the Underdark again." Though the 'again' likely only referred to her.
Nym Durnodel - Aspiring Heroes of Faerûn // Danica Amastacia - Red Dead Annihilation
(Hope to have time to try to match your master prose here some time soon! Lumen is happy to move along.)
Despite the heavy growth in this part of the forest, Aelar's secret trail allows you to make good time and cover quite a bit of ground during the third day. It makes you understand how quickly he and Lia were able to make it from Ravensglade to Dauric's tree in so little time, especially since he mentioned that they were riding elks, which can travel at nearly twice the pace of most humanoids.
During the course of the day, you traverse up and over a series of small hills that provide you with splendid views of the surrounding forest for miles around. You can actually see small pockets of maples off in the distance starring to show their first autumn colors. These open hills also offer a chance to feel the warm sun on your faces before you descend back into the cooler undergrowth.
At one point on the trail during the late afternoon, you come across what looks like a long, narrow strip of cloth lying on the ground. Upon closer inspection, it appears to be heavily stained with blood.
Lumen bends down and inspects it, trying to see if it's fresh or old blood. He looks around for other signs of injury.
Perception: 12
Chrys watches Lumen inspecting something on the ground from the back of her goat, and leans over. "What'cha got there?" When he steps back to reveal the soiled cloth, her nose wrinkles. "Huh. Wonder if something's waitin' fer us out here. Kess, Nym, or Silver... any o' you better at this naturalist business? Maybe one o' you could see if there be any tracks tellin' us what's what 'bout this scrap o' bloody cloth? I fear someone may've met a bad end out here. That, or be needin' our help on account o' bein' terribly injured. Does that look like a bandage or somethin', maybe?" she asks Lumen.
As for herself, she closes her eyes and reaches with senses other than the physical, seeking any hint of an unclean presence in the vicinity with her Divine Sense. (60' celestial, fiend, undead, or the hallow spell, not behind total cover.)