RoR - IC thread

[Farmerbink]

End of Combat

The two wolves remaining have had enough, and turn to flee. One makes the poor strategic choice of running past Lee, who -despite still being prone- plants a rib-crushing blow to it's flank. It stumbles only briefly, and continues its flight to the east. The other wolf disappears into the darkness almost before anyone realizes it's gone. Several seconds later, a howl sounds from the distance across the hill, followed by silence- broken only by a gentle breeze blowing through the leaves.

After the party patches up Lee, the rest of the night passes uneventfully, though perhaps not comfortably. The sun rises on a slightly more ragged party than it set on the night before.

Spoiler: All

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You are, at this point, about 3 to 4 hours journey from the lumber camp.

I'm going to bed. I'll update further in the morning, based on what y'all do.

[DarkOne-Rob]

After the party patches up Lee, the rest of the night passes uneventfully, though perhaps not comfortably. The sun rises on a slightly more ragged party than it set on the night before.

"Lee, come here," Flynn says, a sour look on his face. "I may not like you, but that looks like it hurts. Stay still a moment..."

The bard quietly recites some words in Elven, casting Cure Light Wounds on Lee. (1d8+1)[6] points of damage healed.

Spoiler: Elven

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By the music of the spheres, be mended.

[JWallyR]

Sheathing her blade, Lorelei smirks at Lee. I told you I could handle myself. Noticing his bloodied leg, her smirk fades into a frown of modest concern. Are you all right? I saw the wolf drag you down, but hadn't yet seen that he made your leg rather than just cloth. Stepping back to let Kith do any healing she might feel appropriate, Lorelei re-sheathes her blade (still close at hand), and makes ready for the night.

[Untarr]

"Lee, come here," Flynn says, a sour look on his face. "I may not like you, but that looks like it hurts. Stay still a moment..."

This scratch? I've done worse to myself sha....OOOOOAAAA Lee gasps as the healing sweeps over his leg. Looking at the newly formed tissue, Lee smiles.

Ya sure have a funny way of showin' yer dislike. Thank ye.

Sheathing her blade, Lorelei smirks at Lee. I told you I could handle myself.

Ya killed a half dead wolf that was busy gnawing on my leg. Not exactly a glowing endorsement of skill. standing up, he walks around on it a bit. After a few stretches he lays back down and yawns. I'll deal with you in the morning. We should sleep while we can.

[DarkOne-Rob]

Ya sure have a funny way of showin' yer dislike. Thank ye.

"Yeah, just don't mention it...really..." Flynn says. "Is anyone else hurt? If not, I am going back to bed..."

When no one speaks up, he does just that.

[MuffinMan]

After the party patches up Lee, the rest of the night passes uneventfully, though perhaps not comfortably. The sun rises on a slightly more ragged party than it set on the night before.

Lucas is unusually quiet and contemplative as they eat breakfast and break camp the next morning. As they are almost ready to go, he speaks aloud, "Does anyone else wonder just why those wolves attacked us? Wolves are hunters - they try to pick off the weak and the sick whenever possible. I've never heard of a pack attacking an armed group head-on like that." He shivers a bit, wondering if this is somehow connected to the Blight...

[Farmerbink]

In the hour or two following the wolf attack, howls can be heard periodically, one always fainter than the last, until they are heard no more for several hours before daybreak.

The sun rises on a slightly more ragged party than it set on the evening before.[/SPOILER]

You all wake, no worse for wear, and after a brief breakfast and necessary preparations, break camp and head back to the road (spells used will count for the previous day- any necessary retraining is done).

Once on the road, the journey to the lumber camp passes uneventfully. As you travel, the woods become much thicker very quickly, and before long very little daylight breaches the canopy overhead.

Just before mid morning, you come across an ugly scar of stumps cut into a dense stand of proud darkwood trees. A few moment later, five sturdy lookin log buildings- a bunkhouse, meal hall, office, barn, and small smithy- come into view around a corner of densely packed trees. Numerous wide carts and sleds line the side of the barn in a row three deep amid the sawdust-covered clearing.

Five surly-looking men with unkempt beards and more-wicked than necessary lumber axes look up at your approach. Oy! Will'em! Lookit what the bitches dragged in! The loud man, thickly built and a few inches taller than the other woodsmen approaches, speaking as he does and coming to a halt about 10 feet away. Exac'ly wat in th' hell 'ryou doin' on 'ficcial grounds? I aughta hav'ya 'rested fer disturbin' the operations! Nao git lost afore I git ya lost! He hefts his axe menacingly while the men behind him crack their knuckles and glare angrily.

Spoiler: DM screen

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(1d20+7)[22] intimidate

Spoiler: All read:

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You are intimidated by the group, and gain the shaken modifier for: Adam, 2 rounds; Ian & James, 4 rounds; others, 3 rounds.

[JWallyR]

Momentarily taken aback by the less-than-warm welcome, Lorelei recovers a measure of composure but remains silent, looking to Lee for a response.

[Untarr]

Oy! Will'em! Lookit what the bitches dragged in! The loud man, thickly built and a few inches taller than the other woodsmen approaches, speaking as he does and coming to a halt about 10 feet away. Exac'ly wat in th' hell 'ryou doin' on 'ficcial grounds? I aughta hav'ya 'rested fer disturbin' the operations! Nao git lost afore I git ya lost! He hefts his axe menacingly while the men behind him crack their knuckles and glare angrily.

Cocking his head slightly, Lee grins.

I guess your right. We should leave. Lee turns around and begins to walk through the group back down the road. Of course, when it comes to light you're the reason the entire town of Falcon's Hallow gets wiped out to a plague and you don't have anymore workers to cut the lumber, how do you think your boss is going to react? he says as he pauses after about 10 feet.

[Subucula]

Cocking his head slightly, Lee grins.

I guess your right. We should leave. Lee turns around and begins to walk through the group back down the road. Of course, when it comes to light you're the reason the entire town of Falcon's Hallow gets wiped out to a plague and you don't have anymore workers to cut the lumber, how do you think your boss is going to react? he says as he pauses after about 10 feet.

Merek stands back, quietly amused at Lee's negotiating strategy, trying not to let his worry show.

[DarkOne-Rob]

Five surly-looking men with unkempt beards and more-wicked than necessary lumber axes look up at your approach. Oy! Will'em! Lookit what the bitches dragged in! The loud man, thickly built and a few inches taller than the other woodsmen approaches, speaking as he does and coming to a halt about 10 feet away. Exac'ly wat in th' hell 'ryou doin' on 'ficcial grounds? I aughta hav'ya 'rested fer disturbin' the operations! Nao git lost afore I git ya lost! He hefts his axe menacingly while the men behind him crack their knuckles and glare angrily.

Of course, when it comes to light you're the reason the entire town of Falcon's Hallow gets wiped out to a plague and you don't have anymore workers to cut the lumber, how do you think your boss is going to react?[/COLOR] he says as he pauses after about 10 feet.

His heart racing, Flynn watches as the lumberjack and Lee verbally spar. Seeing an opportunity he chimes in, saying, "How do ya know we ain't heah on 'ficcial business, yah gits? Don' be daft, try usin' yah head instead o' yah hurgmp!" Mimicking the accents of the lumberjacks the bard makes no effort to hide his disdain, in spite of the size of the big men.

Spoiler: Social checks

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(1d20+2)[16] Bluff to show no fear in the face of the intimidating men
(1d20+2)[22] Intimidate to demoralize the lumberjacks with the insult to their intelligence
(My skill checks include the -2 from being Shaken already.)

[MuffinMan]

His heart racing, Flynn watches as the lumberjack and Lee verbally spar. Seeing an opportunity he chimes in, saying, "How do ya know we ain't heah on 'ficcial business, yah gits? Don' be daft, try usin' yah head instead o' yah hurgmp!" Mimicking the accents of the lumberjacks the bard makes no effort to hide his disdain, in spite of the size of the big men.

Lucas glances alarmedly at Flynn as he taunts the lumberjacks. Great, he thinks, another situation where Flynn's big mouth gets him- and me!- into a world of trouble.... Nonetheless, he moves to stand beside his friend in an attempted show of solidarity. As the seconds tick by the spear tip slowly descends in his grasp until it is pointed just above the men's heads...

[Farmerbink]

The leader looks somewhat shocked, and takes a slight step backwards. With an appraising look, he speaks up again. What's this codswallop about a plague? Ain' nobody 'roun' here come up sick wit' nothin'! Yer makin' that up just to scare me! We ain' gon' get pushd roun' in our own camp! Get 'em boys!

Meanwhile, two of the other lumberjacks take a few steps backwards before outright fleeing around the nearest building (the bunkhouse), while the other two glance back and forth between the ringleader and the group in front of them, before one of them steps forward and puts a hand on the loudmouth's shoulder.

Shaddup, Eric. Go fine sommat else to cut yer jib on. Cain' ya see that's the monk youngling? I don' reconize none tha others, but if he's way out here, sommat might really be up back 'n town.

He turns and addresses the party, as the taller (and apparently more fool hearty) man storms off loudly. Don' mine 'Ric too much. 'E done got jiggered and whupped all over las' week fer some fool stunt wit bossman's mule. Damn fool ain' got haf a clue wot's good fer 'I'm an' wot ain'. Naow, tell me summore 'bout this plague you done mentioned. What makes yew think wekin 'elp you anyhow? The last sentence is punctuated by the sharp thud of an axe plunging into a stump, as Eric furiously lays about with his axe.

[DarkOne-Rob]

As the big lumberjack turns and more level heads prevail, Flynn takes a step back and breathes deeply, trying to steady himself. "We had better be able to get a good idea where to find all this stuff from talking to these bullies," he mumbles, before turning back to the new speaker.

"We may be on a fool's errand, but Laurel, the herbalist in town, needs some ingredients for a potion she thinks can cure people of this plague going around. Several people have died already, and most of the town is pretty sick. Do you, or does anyone else here, know where we can find any of these things?" he asks, counting off with his fingers. "1. The oldest tree in the forest? It has some moss on it we need...2. The witch, Ulizmila lives somewhere in the woods too. We need to find her...And 3. A dwarven mine, or smithy, or something of the like in the mountains? There is a mushroom that only grows on metal that Laurel needs, and it is common amongst dwarves, apparently..."

Spoiler: Diplomacy Check

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(1d20+4)[18] To influence this lumberjack to be cooperative (improve his attitude towards us).

[Farmerbink]

The new face of the lumberjacks looks at you with distrust plain in his eyes. Look I don' know nothin' 'bout any o' that nonsense wit' witches and the like, but I ain' 'boutta get myself in trouble fer not bringin' sommat te foreman would wanna know. Foller me an' I'll take ya to 'im. Now make sure you call 'im mister Trookshavits. 'E don' take kinely no one who ain' givin' 'im 'is due respet. If anyone 'roun 'ere knows what you's talkin' 'bout, it's 'im. Come on, then.

Now that he's the focus of your attention, it's clear this man walks with a fairly heavy limp. He moves surprising quickly for a handicapped man, and Kith has just a little bit of trouble keeping up with him. Without looking back to see if you're following, he walks directly across the clearing towards the low office-looking building. Twice in the clearing, he looks up towards the treetops on either side and makes an odd hand gesture.

Spoiler: Perception DC 16:

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At the eastern and western edge of the clearing, there appears to be a man on a small platform suspended several dozen feet off the air. The platforms are cleverly disguised, and difficult to spot without knowing where they are in the first place.

The man walks through the door of the building, past an empty desk, muttering Dam fool ain' never where 'es 'sposed ta be. Gonna get his fool self kilt someday. He politely knocks on a closed door to the right and after a few seconds opens it. With what appears to be deliberate effort, he cleans up his speech dramatically (though still not perfectly). I 'ate to bother you, sir, but we've got a handful of travelers who say they're on some official errand from the magistrate. I thot they might should talk to you. Here they are, sir. With a meaningful glance, he ushers you into a small office and steps out, quietly closing the door behind you.

The slightly plump man with shoulder length black hair and a piercing gaze looks up just briefly before returning his gaze to some papers at his desk. Without looking back up, he addresses the party: And what exactly is it that you want? I'm a busy man, be quick about it!

[Untarr]

Leaning over to Flynn I'll let you do the talkin'...

Spoiler: Perception

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(1d20+5)[21]

[Subucula]

Spoiler: Perception check

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(1d20+6)[16] Perception (without the shaken modifier)

Inside the office, Merek stands to the back. After briefly sizing up the foreman, he diverts his attention to the inside of the office. This foreman does not appear worthy of all the deference his workers are giving him, Merek thinks to himself.

Spoiler: Rolls in the office

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(1d20+2)[16] Sense Motive on foreman - is he just grumpy, or is he hiding something?
(1d20+6)[19] Perception on office - anything out of the ordinary, that would explain his workers' fear of the foreman?

[DarkOne-Rob]

Leaning over to Flynn I'll let you do the talkin'...

Looking at the rest of the group a bit uncomfortably, Flynn steps forward. "Greetings, Mr. Trookshavits. A plague has hit Falcon's Hollow. Several people have died, more are sick. The herbalist, Laurel, thinks she can help with an elixir, but she lacks the ingredients. We are trying to get those ingredients for her," he says rather formally. "First we need to find the oldest tree in the forest. There is a moss that grows on it that she needs. Second, there is a strange herb that needs to be prepared a particular way; we think the witch Ulizmila may be able to help us, but we aren't exactly sure where she is. Finally, there is a mushroom that only grows on metal. It is common in dwarven strongholds, forges, and mines. Can you direct us to where any of these three items might be found?"

Spoiler: Skill Checks

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Diplomacy (1d20+4)[24] to improve the attitude of the foreman.
(1d20+7)[25] Perception

[JWallyR]

Lorelei silently listens to the exchange, but her eyes are flitting around, keeping an eye on potential entrances to the room...

Spoiler: Perception Check

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(1d20-1)[5]

[Farmerbink]

Looking at the rest of the group a bit uncomfortably, Flynn steps forward. "Greetings, Mr. Trookshavits. A plague has hit Falcon's Hollow. Several people have died, more are sick. The herbalist, Laurel, thinks she can help with an elixir, but she lacks the ingredients. We are trying to get those ingredients for her," he says rather formally. "First we need to find the oldest tree in the forest. There is a moss that grows on it that she needs. Second, there is a strange herb that needs to be prepared a particular way; we think the witch Ulizmila may be able to help us, but we aren't exactly sure where she is. Finally, there is a mushroom that only grows on metal. It is common in dwarven strongholds, forges, and mines. Can you direct us to where any of these three items might be found?"

The surly-looking man behind the desk looks up from the paper only briefly as Flynn begins talking. With a slight smirk, he acknowledges your usage of his "proper" title, before his eyes fall back to the paperwork in front of him, and by all appearances he ignores you entirely. As Flynn comes to the question, he looks back up slowly, and meets Flynn's gaze appraisingly.

After a very long 6 or 8 seconds, he tilts his head slightly and speaks slowly. I have no idea what any of the things you've mentioned could possibly refer to. After an even longer 4 or 5 seconds, he begins to smile broadly and continues. However, I think I do know someone who might. Give me just a moment. He rings a bell which hangs on a hook on the side of his desk. After a VERY long 20 or 30 seconds, his demeanor hardens significantly. Seemingly begrudgingly, he lifts his moderate bulk from the chair, and slowly prowls around the desk to the door of his office. Excuse me for a moment, please, he says flatly as he steps outside. A few moments later, you hear another door outside his office slam. The silence in the room is oppressively deafening for a few minutes.

[DarkOne-Rob]

Spoiler: Perception DC 16:

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At the eastern and western edge of the clearing, there appears to be a man on a small platform suspended several dozen feet off the air. The platforms are cleverly disguised, and difficult to spot without knowing where they are in the first place.

"Um, did I say something wrong?" Flynn asks quietly, a bit confused by the man's reaction. "And did anyone else see those platforms at the east and west ends of the clearing? What is going on here?"

The bard takes a moment to turn towards the door, listening against it to try and hear any sign of what is going on outside. If/when he hears someone approaching he steps away again, trying his best to do so quietly.

Spoiler: Skill checks

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Perception (1d20+7)[26]
Stealth (1d20+3)[23]

[MuffinMan]

Lucas shifts uncomfortably in the relatively crowded office. "He said he doesn't know anything. What if no one here knows about any of the items? I'm starting to think coming here was a bad idea..."

[Farmerbink]

Flynn faintly hears the sound of a man on a tirade. Angry yelling is punctuated by the sound of flesh striking wood and wood striking flesh. This continues for several minutes.

Spoiler: The platforms

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Were something akin to scouts posts. If your perception check (for the previous roll) beat a 20, you could see their bows and tell that they were behaving as guards on watch (with a very small post) would.

Spoiler: Sense motives and perceptions in the office

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This man is not accustomed to being disobeyed or being talked back to. He probably considers himself to be overly important, and is unhappy about being disturbed.

Nothing looks particularly out of place for a working man's office. Several sheets depict orders and quotes and business transactions.

Some time later, the sound of footprints can be heard approaching the door. Without any other warning (Flynn moves back aside safely), the door opens again (into the room), and Mr. Trookshavits walks back in, carrying himself like a peacock on parade. Please pardon that interruption, he says, lowering himself back into his chair. My staff is... woefully inept at times. I would like to expect a change of behavior from my secretary, but experience has convinced me that any hopes would be fruitless. Regardless, the man you want to speak to should be on here any moment.

Within a few seconds, a knock is heard on the door. Come in, Trookshavits calls, and the door opens. In walks the most unkempt man you've ever seen, it looks like he's had neither a haircut nor a shave in probably years. His clothes are patched more frequently than not, by coverage, and he walks with a gnarled oaken staff at his side. Shockingly, when he opens his mouth, nearly perfect speech comes forth. You wanted to see me, boss?

Trookshavits introduces Milon Rhoddam, his most experienced woodsman, repeats Flynn's statement, very nearly verbatim, and focuses his appraising stare at the man.

Well, you ladies and gentlemen have maps of the area, yes? No!? He looks shocked out of his mind to hear otherwise. Well here, this is a start. He pulls a small end-table from under the window unto the center of the office, where all 8 of the people gathered can see it, and draws a long and thin rolled parchment from a small bag which runs the length of his thigh. After unrolling the parchment, he indicates some points on the map drawn on it. This is a map of damn-near the entire Darkmoon Vale. For starters, I can assure you despite whatever you may have heard in town that all of the places you've mentioned most certainly exist. Ulizmila's hut is here. An abandoned Dwarven monastery is here. and there's a particular tree, deep in the northern half of the forest which has a clearing well-nigh half a mile around it. It's got too big a canopy for anything smaller to take root. That's gotta be your oldest tree in the forest. That one's right about here. He punctuates ever "here," with a small "x" mark with a charcoal stick. The witches hut and dwarven monastery locations marked align with what Lee and Kith recalled of the area. Now, I have to warn you. These woods are not to be trifled with. As you can likely tell from my dress, you are gonna stand out like a sore thumb. I'd be careful, were I you. None of those are places that most folks go willingly. Nothing much to be had there, and plenty to be lost, if you catch my drift. He turns to face Trookshavits. Anything else you wanted, boss?

The two men have a brief dialogue: In fact, yes there is. This monastery you mentioned. What are the odds that it might have stores of valuables? Well, if I had to guess, probably pretty good. Wonderful, that will be all. As Milon leaves, Trookshavits turns back to you.

So, you have what you needed, yes? I am a man of business, and as you can tell, an honorable one at that. Select few, I think, would give you what you want before asking a favor in return, and my request is fairly light. If you find anything that you would describe as a dwarven historical artifact, I'd like you to bring it to me. I've always had a weakness for ancient culture, and would be thrilled to see what is there, but sadly cannot leave my post here. Just keep it in mind. Now, unfortunately, I truly am a busy man. If there is nothing else?

He leaves the question hanging, and nods politely as you file out. The chair behind the desk in the first room is now inhabited by a slim, unhappy figure, nursing what appears to be a rather fresh black eye. He glares at you angrily, but says nothing as you leave the building.

[DarkOne-Rob]

The chair behind the desk in the first room is now inhabited by a slim, unhappy figure, nursing what appears to be a rather fresh black eye. He glares at you angrily, but says nothing as you leave the building.

As he passes, Flynn mouths, "Sorry!" to the man at the desk.
------------------------

Once outside, Flynn happily let's someone else take the lead, walking in roughly the middle of the group. As soon as it wouldn't be too strange or threatening he takes out his shortbow and an arrow and keeps a vigilant eye on the forest as they travel towards their first destination.

Spoiler: Perception Check(s)

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If I can, I would prefer to at least take 10 with Perception checks throughout our trip today (for a 17). If that isn't really kosher, my modifier is +7 for any rolls needed.

[Untarr]

Spoiler: Survival

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(1d20+6)[13] To not get lost.

As they exit the office, Lee takes the lead once again. As they exit the camp, he steers them towards the north.

Seems like to me, first place we should go is the Witch's Hut. Then make a line west through the north part of the forest to the tree and then the monastery.

Looking around for objections, he keeps the party at a brisk pace through the day.

[MuffinMan]

Spoiler: Survival

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(1d20+4)[19] vs DC 10 to Aid Another on Lee for following the road.

Lucas walks near the front with Lee, occasionally halting to confer about directions or argue about which bend in the road to take.

At one point he drifts back in the group and addresses himself to the strange monk who has become their companion. "So... Merek, right? I've seen you around town before, I think, but I don't think we've ever really spoken. I'm Lucas. If you don't mind my asking, what brings you out into the wilderness chasing after some mystery ingredients?"

[Farmerbink]

Spoiler: Survival

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(1d20)[3] vs DC 10 to Aid Another on Lee for following the road.

Spoiler

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There is no longer a road. Sorry for the confusion. The road exists for the sake of travel between the town and the lumber camp. At this point, you've set out on a (mostly) northward bearing. Be thinking about how you want to cross/go around the lake/river.
"A" is the lumber camp. "B" is an approximation of where the party first encounters the water. "C" is the witches hut. "D" is the elder tree. and obv. the dwarven monastery is just that.

Spoiler: DM Screen

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(1d20)[3]
(1d8)[2]

The party has no trouble sticking to a NNW course, on track to reach the water's edge early the next morning. Come nightfall, you find yourself without a particularly good place to make camp. There is no road, and the ground has largely leveled out. You are deep in the forest, so finding a tree to camp under is not troublesome, and neither is finding good firewood, but it takes some time to finally decide precisely where to do so. Just before you decide to make camp, you hear the unmistakable sound of loud and drunken frivolity.

Upon closer inspection, it appears that 3 of the woodsmen (likely in the service of the camp you left this morning) have managed to bring sufficient ale on their patrols to get well and truly hammered. They do not even remotely notice anyone attempting to stealthily scout their camp. They have a moderately large fire burning. One of them is in and out of consciousness, usually just long enough to take a swig from his wineskin. The other two are laughing loudly, singing louder, and regularly throwing more wood onto the fire than it even remotely needs to keep burning.

[DarkOne-Rob]

Upon closer inspection, it appears that 3 of the woodsmen (likely in the service of the camp you left this morning) have managed to bring sufficient ale on their patrols to get well and truly hammered. They do not even remotely notice anyone attempting to stealthily scout their camp. They have a moderately large fire burning. One of them is in and out of consciousness, usually just long enough to take a swig from his wineskin. The other two are laughing loudly, singing louder, and regularly throwing more wood onto the fire than it even remotely needs to keep burning.

Raising an eyebrow quizically, Flynn looks at the party and silently motions with his hand in a slashing motion across his neck as if to say, "Nope, not interested..." before turning back and sneaking away from the drunkards' campsite.

[Untarr]

Nodding in agreement, Lee follows Flynn back out and looks for a spot far enough away to no longer hear the men. He sets up a small cooking fire so that it is hidden by the trees from the direction the woodsmen were.

Just use my bedroll and blanket. I've been through worse. he says handing both to Lucas and Lorelei respectively.

I'll take first watch tonight, Merek get second, Lucas 3rd. We'll keep rotating between the watches each night.

Spoiler: Perception

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(1d20+5)[8]

[Subucula]

Spoiler: Survival

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[roll0] vs DC 10 to Aid Another on Lee for following the road.

Lucas walks near the front with Lee, occasionally halting to confer about directions or argue about which bend in the road to take.

At one point he drifts back in the group and addresses himself to the strange monk who has become their companion. "So... Merek, right? I've seen you around town before, I think, but I don't think we've ever really spoken. I'm Lucas. If you don't mind my asking, what brings you out into the wilderness chasing after some mystery ingredients?"

Merek takes a long, hard look at Lucas, and says: I'm here because my training is complete, and ... Look, I'm here because of the plague, same as anyone, OK? That's why we're all here, right? And now that you mention it, you're right, we've never really spoken...