DeepBlue's Vagabond - Act 1

[Ya Ta Hey!]

OOC:

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No tracking feat here, sorry.

Wow, and its right there under tracking in the SRD, too. I'm sorry, that makes me look really inattentive, I know. The problem is, I'm currently on a computer where opening character speadsheets is a big deal (32 mB RAM, most of it occupied by background programs), and has a good change of completely crashing the entire thing. Therefore, I only reference my character sheet as a last resort and am relying on guesswork and the SRD for things. Please excuse my n00bness.

Also, did anyone think to take that shortbow Wyatt gave us? I'd like to hunt with it and Len is strong enough to pull it with no penalty.

Len is not satisfied with Fargrims answer, which just sounds like more hedging. At any rate, she shakes Harold awake and then helps serve rations out to her friends.

What she's really doing, though, is looking around for the bow or an unattended crossbow. Len is by no means a hefty woman, but she simply can't do without a hearty meal, which trail rations never are. Even just a squirrel would be fine.

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
Zzzzzzzz....

[Velvet Elvis]

Schorbuk

Clearing his throat politely, Schorbuk remarks, "Ahh, I was hoping one of you had the love of cooking in you and might be so inclined. Oh well, thanks for the extras." He grabs the packet and wags it in the air. Of course, he already had a few of them, courtesy of Claudius.

A quick pull and the packet opened to let him nibble idly while surveying the area.

"Wolves, eh? I haven't seen a wolf for years; not sure I want to, either. Wolves in my home region on Capricus were exterminated a long time ago. Tended to make off with people, and that's just not acceptable. I'm a little concerned that none of us actually caught sight of them. But!" he looks into his rations pouch, wiggling the bottom to make sure it was as empty as it looked, "We're all alive and accounted for, so there's a lucky moon, eh?"

Finished with his basic meal, he returns the rope and blanket to Willard, dusts and straightens his clothes, and tends to the various other sundry minutiae to prepare for the day ahead.

"Heavy sleeper, isn't he?" he asks, jerking a thumb down at the still snoozing Harold.

[Ya Ta Hey!]

OOC:

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Sweet! Stay alseep just a little longer, kay?.

"Fine, sleepyhead." Len grumbles as Harold just rolls over and continues snoozing. She's about to towel-snap him with her vest when she thinks twice and decides that one grumpy companion is enough.

Instead, she borrows Harold's crossbow and makes for the woods. "Yo, Schorbuck. Help me spot a coney and I'll split it with you." She offers over her shoulder.

Despite the noise they will make, Len still wears her chain-mail and broadsword. Safety first!

She creeps through the woody outskirts, loading a bolt and surveying the foliage through the sight.

*
Move silently: 1d20 + Dex - Armor Penalty (1d20+1)[14]
Spot: Take ten (if applicable) or 1d20 + WIS (1d20)[12] if not
*

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

Flare trots along after Len. I'll help. I never miss, after all.

He glances back over his shoulder at Fargrim and the snoozing Harold. Make sure nobody kills Harold in his sleep, alright? I like him, he makes me smile.

[Deepblue706]

Fargrim offers no smile back to Flare - he instead frowns back to him, and then to the earth, sitting with beads and incense to help his prayer and meditation.

Len and Flare head closer to the woods, with Maximilian warning them not to go too far off. He then has a seat, helping himself to a portion of his own rations, along with some wine from the skin he slings around his shoulder.
Willard stands idly, chewing on a piece of licorice he pulled from his pocket, instead of a real breakfast. When Schorbuk hands him the rope and blanket, he quickly gets to packing them back up - so that he can just as soon return to his treat. He returns to his vacant, chewing state in moments.

As Len peers beyond the trees, she can spot a few birds flying above, and a single rabbit not far away. It hops about, halts, and then continues, seemingly oblivious.

[Ya Ta Hey!]

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Aww, rabbit.

...he's ****ed.

Len gently elbows Flare and points toward the rabbit. They'll only get one shot, so it'll have to be in tandem.

"On three" she mouths silently to him, pressing the crossbow stock into her shoulder and counting off with her fingers.

Three!

Attack: 1d20 + DEX + size (Tiny, +2) - range (10ft, -1) = (1d20+5)[13]

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I don't know if that was all correct, but the rabbits around where I live won't let you get much closer than 10 feet without running. Plus, a halfling is "small", so a rabbit should be "tiny", right?

Anyway, if something's wrong, feel free to add or subtract from the roll to compensate, and sorry in advance.

The crossbow bucks as Len fires...

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

Flare smiles from beneath his veil and counts in tandem with len. As he does so, he utters arcane words and his hands begin to glow.

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Magic missile that wascally wabbit!
(1d4+1)[2]

[Deepblue706]

Len's attack is a bit off, but Flare strikes right on target - his bolt of energy pierces the small animal, and it slumps to the ground.

[Ya Ta Hey!]

OOC: Schweet.

IC: "Booyah." Len cheers under her breath. Quietly, she creeps forward, still keeping an eye out for other wildlife.

That isn't because Len wanted to start the day with a whole deer (venison is actually pretty unpleasent without extensive doctoring in a kitchen), but for future reference.

Spot (1d20)[19]

"I'll take it back and start cleaning it, kay?" she whispers. "Which cut do you want?"

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

Oh, I don't really have a preference. We'd better head back now, wouldn't want to waste the entire morning when we have a job to do.

[Velvet Elvis]

Schorbuk

No answer was necessary with Flare's immediate acceptance in Schorbuk's stead. He wasn't much for game hunting, anyway. Fishing and the occasional skewering of merbeasts that made it on deck was more his particular style. Besides, he had no clue what a coney was, anyway, much less why he'd care to eat one.

Instead, he passed the time tossing a bola at a sturdy sapling. Varying distances came before throwing while at a full run. It wasn't quite the same as snaring a moving target, but it served to hone his hand-eye coordination better than sitting on his butt staring at caterpillars.

He collected and replaced the bola when Flare and Len came back into view, a creature that looked a lot more like a rabbit than a coney--he imagined--in hand.

He called to them, "Gods! Were you injured? Are you both going to live? Someone find a priest!" Fighting hard to maintain a look of earnest concern, he quickly failed and burst out laughing.

[Ya Ta Hey!]

Len smirks and shakes her head, carefully placing the hijacked crossbow next to Harold.

"Nice shooting, sailor." she congratulates Flare as she sits down with the carcass by the fire.

"As for you, Captain Smartass," she continues to Schorbuck. "...Help me clean this monster if you want any."

With a grimace, Len begins the skinning and gutting, taking especial care not to rupture anything that could ruin what little good meat this animal has. An improvised spit awaits the meat...

Craft: Breakfast of Champions (1d20+7)[17] or Take 10+7, if applicable

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold
By this time the minstrel has since tipped over and snoozes happily in the grass.
Zzzzzz...

[Velvet Elvis]

Schorbuk

Trailing diminishing chuckles all the way, Schorbuk dogs Len's heels and aids in the preparation of the massive three-or-four pound brute the great hunters returned with. It was a little more involved than gutting fish, but no less grisly.

Done with his part, and while wiping his hands clean, he notices Harold still sawing logs.

"Y'know, aboard ship we'd take fish guts and arrange them neatly across any greenie that overslept...." he suggested blandly, but with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

[Deepblue706]

Willard frowns. "That's not nice, Mr. Schorbuk! You shouldn't do that!" The boy seems to speak as if it would cause trauma, his tone perhaps hinting at his own experiences of being the victim of such a prank.

Maximilian offers a laugh, and then sips a beverage from an old looking tin cup he brought along with him. He pays little attention to what the party does, off in his own world. On occasion, he reminds who he can that he's ready to go whenever everyone feels ready, but he makes no effort to pack up his equipment, just yet.

The Bounty Of The Hunt cooks well on the spit that Len prepares, over a warm, but gentle fire. While not having much meat, it may satisfy the desire of fresh meat that people of wild often have - for a short while, at least.

It is now mid-morning, and a bright sun seems to be making its way overhead. However, most on the ground are still cool, as a brisk wind blows in from the sea, chilling whatever parts of you that are not covered and well-insulated.

A glance to the forest still gives the same eerie, even foreboding feeling, warning you not to enter.

[Ya Ta Hey!]

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Happy non-denominational holiday greetings to all! Yeah, feel that sincerity, huh?

"Yeah, Harry already paid his price." Len agrees, glancing significantly at the space where a crossbow bolt is now absent.

"...for now. But if he keeps laying there like a piece of luggage, I might tie off those blankets over his head and carry him for the rest of the day." She thumps a fist against her bony shoulder. "That won't a comfortable ride."

Len stands up from breakfast, wincing as the wind combs straight through her chainmail and wet clothes; she slept in the grass last night. She immediately dives into the packing with a gusto to try and warm up.

"I couldn't imagine being at sea; having to pack and unpack everything, every day...man, that must suck." The only time Len has ever been at sea was on a four-mast clipper that finished the journey in under three weeks, and even that was too long.

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So...if I can't make Len stronger through drills, is there an academy/gym/fight club in a tavern basement somewhere in Puerto Gideon? (Note that I'm planning for after we get this debt settled)

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

Flare steps over to Harold and seizes his bedroll, hefting it up so as to dump him out on the ground. Come on sleepyhead, time to wake up! That done, he slings his backpack over his shoulder and readies himself to leave. The rabbit was good, but it's time to get going. Let's put this trail behind us everyone, we have a long ways to go. After he's done with his own things, he begins getting Harold's possessions ready for him to rise.

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
"oof." With a muted protest, Harold tumbles onto the ground, landing face-down on the grass. Still lying down, he reaches back and scratches the back of his head, then lifts himself to his feet, dusting the dew as best he can off of his white shirt.
"Well, I certainly appreciate the prompt wake-up," he remarks, his usual glibness apparently undamped by the sudden awakening.
"But in the future, gently shaking me by the shoulder will be just as effective in waking me up, I promise."
The handsome youth looks about the camp and sniffs the air, a little glumly.
"I've missed breakfast, haven't I? No doubt you all overlooked waking me in time because I was sleeping so quietly over here. Fine. Shall we go, then?"

[Deepblue706]

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Hey, Tamale, it's Porto Giedion. We're talking the Italian city of Porto, or like, The Portuguese. Another slip-up like that, and I'm bring Benji back to fight/annoy you people again.

Maximilian gives Harold a nod, and he begins to pack up his equipment. Willard folds up the tent canvas, placing it into one of his many bags, continuing to chew on his licorice as he prepares for departure.

After the party is ready to go, you make your way closer to the ominous forest, along the road that travels through and beyond the tree-line. Stepping inside reveals a calm and serene atmosphere within, much less spooky than from the outside. Birds sing above you, as they fly amongst the tall trees that block much of the sun's light.

The path is worn and a bit dusty, but grass seems to encroach from the sides, more and more, as you continue on. There are countless trees to either side of the road, most broad and mighty. At the base of a few trees along the path, you spot a few odd mushrooms, spotting in purple and green.

Along this forest road you travel for a few hours, taking scheduled rest breaks every-so-often to ensure you do not tired yourselves out early. At one such stop, Maximilian takes a seat upon a fallen tree, collapsed onto its side, and likely dead a while. Not far from here is a small ravine, and there, the path splits into both a high road, and a low road. "We'll be taking the higher path. And, we'll need to be a bit more alert from here on in - they say pixies of the wood play tricks on travellers who come this way. Best to ignore anything off the path." He takes a drink from his waterskin. "I think it might be--" He freezes, gazing through the trees opposite his side of the path. Turning to the point at which he stares brings to sight a fairly large bear, a good distance away. It does not appear to have noticed you.

[Ya Ta Hey!]

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Oh, I hate bears almost as much as raccoons. Nasty ****ers and they can follow you almost anywhere. Their one redeeming quality is that the ones by my house haven't thought to leave the woods yet.

Grr.

Ooh, also: did Flare and I get any XP from that epic rabbit-slaying?

"Like that?" Len asks quietly. "Flare, can you check for magic, please?"

Knowing that they'll all be sorry if it isn't an illusion, Len grabs the shortbow and notches an arrow, but doesn't draw just yet; a calm bear could just as easily shy away, but a wounded, angry bear is almost guaranteed to attack.

She cranes her neck, glancing along the bear's back and head for distinctive features...

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If its an actual grizzly (ie. hump of muscle on shoulder and dish-like face), then I recommend we all make Move Silently checks as grizzlies are more predatorial than black bears and plus. I mean, yeah I want to buff Len up some, but taking on a half-ton of muscle and fur that wouldn't suprise me to see with an AC in the 20's...that's not a fight I want at level 1.

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

Flare grimaces and shrinks behind Len, his voice a whisper. Well yeah... I could. But under the circumstances, I think the odds are pretty good that it's just an ordinary, hopefully not hungry, bear. Will it go away if we stay quiet?

He almost begins casting the spell that Len requested, but quickly gets a better idea. Gentle beast, he murmurs. May your slumber be long and refreshing.

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Cast sleep on the bear and hope it's not the kind that has more than 4 HD. Will Save DC 15.

[Deepblue706]

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No, it's just a large black bear

Flare's enchantment places a heavy, invisible burden onto bear's back, as it seems to have no other current desire than to stop in its path and lay down. Its eyelids close and the beast passes into slumber.

Maximilian seems relieved. "You...you're a magician? I guess Claudius was right to tell me not to have any worries..." He remains fixed on the bear, in wonder of the spell.

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
Harold nods.
"Nice work."

[Ya Ta Hey!]

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Good. Since I didn't put any skill points in Survival or some kind of Woodcraft specialty knowledge, I hope I'm not breaking the rules by using these kind of OOC factoids. I figure that its pretty commonplace stuff to have heard of but if you want Len to be the city slicker her skill set makes her out to be, then I'll do that.

"Flare has come in very handy." Len agrees. "I'm glad he decided to stick with us."

She returns the arrow to her quiver and practically hovers over Maximillian as they follow the climbing path.

"What do you know about the bandits here? Are they a particular group or just nameless robbers?" She finally asks.

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

Flare allows himself a brief smile as his spell works successfully, but then takes off at a measured jog. Hurry everyone! No time to dawdle, that bear will wake up in about a minute and I don't intend to be around when it does.

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
Harold scratches his head and nods, silently.
Sheesh. If I'm lucky, everything on this trip will go so smoothly.

[Velvet Elvis]

Schorbuk

Schorbuk seemed almost fascinated by the bear. He'd certainly never actually witnessed a live one before, though he knew certain varieties existed in the woods on Capricus. Given the relative size between himself and the massive creature, he was more than happy to keep the association rare and at a distance. Flare's magic made him smile in relief. That he'd seen before. Once or twice.

"S'truth; masterfully done Sir Wizard," he said in a sing-song voice complete with a flourishing bow. "Perhaps he'll dream of being chased by us, hmm?" A wide smile split his face, and he was quickly in league with the rest as they made haste away from the temporarily slumbering beast.

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
Harold rolls his eyes.
Only sailors and actors and toffs can get away with talking like that. Of course, they all have one shared characteristic, if common talk can be believed.
He observes the bear with similar interest as they pass, his hands clasped behind his back and smiling to himself.
"S'truth." Feh, that's only one step away from "Sirrah," in my humble opinion, and at that point you might as well shoot them then and there.
As he strolls, he hums a small tune to himself, careful to keep the tone low enough to not disturb the bear.

[Deepblue706]

The group collects its things and makes for the high road - escaping the area before the bear awakes from the spell. As your party continues onward in this direction, you all become more wary of the surrounding trees, as they begin to take a different shape and appearance, growing more odd the further you go. Here and there, you are almost given the impression the wood is filled with children, as you hear small whispers every-so-often, concealed by the eerie, ancient trees of the forest. The words are unintelligible, but distinctly child-like in tone.

After some more walking, you arrive at a small clearing where another path intersects with the one you are on. Maximilian seems flustered. "...This....is supposed to be a single path..." Willard looks very nervous.

You then notice an old, wooden post, with signs for each direction. North, the supposed direction, is marked with a childish carving of what appears to be a troll or ogre. South, the direction you came from, is marked with a sad face, inside a large circle. The sign pointing what should be west is marked with the words "South This Way", and the one that would be east offers only a question mark.

Maximilian hesitates to move forward.