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[fil kearney]

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[fil kearney]

CHAPTER 1 -- level 5
Scratching the Surface

MAPS

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Sudal-Mish Region Map 1000 miles x 1000 xiles
Sudal Huk Map 500 miles x 500 miles
Abola - Small Town Map 150 miles x 150 mles

"...they say there was a big evil fish called an abbuleth livin down in th' cove's reef caves."
the group of you stared blankly at Cutter as he interrupted the unrequested town history lesson with a swig of whiskey,
"Used to be a big fishy skull like you've never seen hanging over the town admin office... but THAT's why they call here, 'Abola'."
The red-faced man concluded triumphantly.
Cutter had proven to be a good resource for local information, even if he was not much more than a local gypsy-bum. His reliability was evident; three or four groups of ruffians had been following him around, performing various tasks... many of which the local communities actually rewarded.
It was disturbing that one of the more reliable groups hadn't checked in for over a week since heading uphill to the small town.
"Sems the rumors are true about critters comin' outta the woods. Bindi doesn't skip checkin' in-- She 'n' her boys ran inna trubble."
It was getting around that the small town uphill by the southern woods was haunted. This has always been believed by anyone younger than 10, but now even the parents were wondering if their childhood fears were justified.
Monsters in the woods aren't ghosts, but if the local toughs were killed by them... that small town could be in for bigger trouble.
Cutter said there's probably some coin that can be scraped from the locals for putting these stories back in the campfire where they belong. The town was about 40 some miles uphill. There's a weekly mule train that travels up due back in 3 days... assuming no monsters eat em all while between check in points.
"So, I figgered this would be a good 'first job' for you. You tell the local Law that ol' Cutter sent you after Bindi. They should treat you right."


DM NOTES

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As a playtest, I've set up a railroad track of pretty easy to find violence... but be free to play in the sandbox as much as you want... as an alternate spell system, there are going to be opportunities for you to do stuff I can't anticipate.. follow your whim as much as you please.

[unosarta]

Karasian looks at his companions.

I suppose that we had better go find the leader of the mule train and offer protection.

With a shrug, he gets up from the table, and waits for his companions.

[OOC]

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Just as a note; I am writing in Bold Gold for Karasian's speech. Also, I am assuming that Cutter told us the whereabouts of the leader of the mule train, or told us something to get us over there. He seems reliable enough, anyway.

[fil kearney]

Cutter nods "yu'll find 'im uphill already... if you wanna offer thim protection, ya best get a move on.. Me, I'll be heading out on the barge to Oma tamarrow. I'll be back next week ta see who's dead... you 'r the critters. hehe."

[mrcarter11]

"Let us be moving forward then. We can see what is going on."

[fil kearney]

Abola is a maritime community to say the least... the only "road" out of town is the flattened broad paths heading north towards the woods the lumberjacks use to haul in trees.... south-- meaning, "up", is quite literally mule paths. no cart is going to make it, and it is a grueling 40ish mile trek over rough hill. "This had better be worth it" is a curse the traders themselves utter every week.

To worsen the trek; The Rains* start, quite literally, like clockwork at midday, soaking the late spring foliage and turning exposed earth to mud. Nothing makes an uphill trek worse than trudging through mud... expect perhaps snow-- but that was never part of the weather system planned 100 years back.

Countless steps later it is getting DARK. far uphill barely visible is the light of the Halfway House, built to allow the mule men and any other travelers uphill to have decent rest before carrying on.. it is also rumored a great base of operation for the holiday-hunters seeking Southern Quail, or a more exotic Falcon. Reaching the shelter should be possible in a forced march- (con check; DC 12 or take d6 nonlethal damage + be fatigued)

*Footnote

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Sudal WAS a small fishing town with very little growth potential, until one of the chief's sons exhibited impressive magical aptitude... the (nearly accurate, but nevertheless true) stories of his growth, adventures, and eventual return to rule Sudal are legendary. Having seen the world, he enchanted the Sudal Huk bay area with rains that would NEVER occur in this arid climate. This, along with some good planned forestry, has resulted in lush forests 100 years later.. It is well known that the mages of Sudal maintain and update the permanent weather pattern, and that it is a 12 hour cycle... midday the rains last 6 hours, then stop. 6 hours later, the rains start again midnight for another 6 hours into morning, then stop. Up in the mountains these brewed clouds hang low enough to create a foggy shroud.. clouds brew, rain, disperse, brew, rain, disperse.
Being artificial, the only inhabitants of these woods are insects, small birds and lizards. Other than humans, there is virtually no threatening creatures to fear.. this along with a steady water supply twice a day made it easy to start small communes in the hills... This small town ahead is one such example that has grown over the past 40 years into a small community of 30 some families... totally unequipped to deal with a real threat if it were to arise, like these proposed monsters.

[unosarta]

Karasian trudges ahead towards the shelter, not looking back to his comrades.

Looks like we are out for the long haul.

[mrcarter11]

Carter wonders where everyone seemed to disappear off too. Even so, he continues to march ever forward.

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Sorry I only ever post in the morning and at night. I can handle RP stuff around noon til 2.. Anyways rolling now
(1d20+2)[18]

[unosarta]

*OOC* (1d20+2)[14]

[fil kearney]

With the last rays of light, the half-way house sits dark and quiet up hill.. ran down and obviously in disrepair... this does NOT look like the inviting, warm cabin that hinted at fantasies of hot chocolate and a cozy attendant to keep the night cold away... in fact, rounding the trees, it's apparent the front door is partially off it's hinges, and some structural damage has been dealt... but the darkening sky and tall trees is making an accurate assessment difficult at this range.... If it is the site of an attack... this is MUCH closer to Abola than anyone has ever reported.

Notes

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Territory map: each square is 5 feet. If you choose to get closer to the building, I'll zoom in. Cabin Map

[mrcarter11]

"So should we go towards the front door, you think? Or should we just get outta here?"

[unosarta]

Karasian paused for a moment.

Well, I could probably handle it. But I worry that the rain will soak you through. And to continue walking at this hour would... not be the best of ideas.

[mrcarter11]

"Eh, I stand that I can handle it if you want to continue.. I'm not one to back down."

[unosarta]

Karasian looks to the sky, shrouded and rainy.

We do not have the light of my lord Pelor to travel by. Waiting for his rays is not cowardice.

Karasian continues on towards the shack.

[fil kearney]

Map updated....

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Map Updated

As the heavy steps of the crusader drew near the quiet cabin, he could hear a slight rustling within the dark, worn structure-- a sharp *SNAP* causes the dark within to fall dead silent.. Carter cringes from the warforged's clunky, sculpted boots.

[unosarta]

Karasian's head turns in the direction of the snap.

Who goes there?

[fil kearney]

The warrior peers through the gloom, seeking to determine the source of the intruder... the threes and hills causing even the slightest sound to echo through the quiet wilderness... craning his geared neck about to catch a second sound, the swordsage stands quietly, without seemingly the slightest tension.

After a few moments, Carter gestures to the confused 'forged's feet, where his thick plated boots have cleaved through an old branch, draped across his path towards the cabin.

With a shrug, Carter sheepishly steps over the rest of the fallen branch to a more predictable dirt patch... the cabin remains as quiet as the grave.

[unosarta]

Karasian looks sheepish, and tries to recover his calm.

Ah, it was just a branch. Nothing to fear!

Karasian moves towards the shack.

[mrcarter11]

Carter shakes his head and continues his movement forward.

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I end in 510 across, and 650 up.

[fil kearney]

map updated
http://www.killfear.com/playtest/CABIN%20GRID%204.JPG


creeeping closer to the dark cabin... the sounds of rustling within are louder... there is obviously something lurking in there. What was left of light of day disappears, and it gets very difficult to even see the stairs at your feet.

[unosarta]

Karasian moves up the steps, wary of the gloom.

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Moves to (600, 630)

[mrcarter11]

"I'm holding, you can be first in."

[unosarta]

Thank you.

Karasian enters the room, alert for any sudden movement.

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Karasian moves to (630, 630).

[fil kearney]

With the sun gone, and the moon yet to peer through the clouds-- it is too dark to explore without light... firing up a torch-- a small mammal hisses loudly as it scurries away-- two obviously dead humans lay in the middle of the common room-- many separate rooms' doors have been torn open and the sundries in the closet have been dashed across the floor-- it's hard to say how soon, but it wasn't long ago that since these people were brutally killed.

MAP

[unosarta]

Karasian gingerly steps over the corpses, grimacing at the violence, and walks over to the room on the left, alert for any sudden movement.

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Moves to (670, 550).

[fil kearney]

The old wooden floor groans from the warforged's weight, eerily loud in the quiet lodge-- the door is partially smashed-- the generous bedroom within has been torn apart. feathers and parchment litter the floor amongst shattered shelving and furniture-- the destroyed bed has been stripped of it's sheets, and the shattered boudoir bleeds bare hangers

[mrcarter11]

I wander into the home, watching the bodies for signs of alertness. In a hushed tone, "Would you care to check them for signs of life?"

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Move to 650,625

[unosarta]

Karasian sighs, and moves back towards the corpses.

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Move to (690,610).

[fil kearney]

It only takes a moment for karasian to confirm these two are dead... a middle aged man and woman; their bellies have been split wide open. the warforged doesn't bother checking for a pulse; if they move, they are no longer human....

(map pending)

[unosarta]

The warforged gets up from the ground, and walks over to the side rooms, shaking his head.

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Move to (770,650).