[IC] Savage Tears 5e

[willowedc]

Cinder feels a chill pass through her, setting her skin on edge as she listens to the woman. She glances around as she looks about the tent. "Ma'am, I'd like to ask you for two favors. First, let me take you to Bluevine Cottage, where you can take the time you need to treat your hand properly. We have still waters for the moment. I don't know enough to know if it is the still of a storm passed or the still of the eye of the storm. Second, after I'm slightly better armed than I am now, I'll need directions to your ranch. The only good news I can offer is with Bella's injury, there's every chance Nero would be able to out maneuver her if she was affected by whatever turned the livestock hostile."

Spoiler: Persuasion

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[roll]1d20[/roll]

[Nettlekid]

"Excellent haste," Nereus nods to the boy running back, glad to see that medical attention can be provided. He continues south toward the medical tent, hoping to stock up on portable healing that can be used in the likely event that they come across someone in future who needs the assistance when there is no priest around.

Spoiler: Investigation when/if he gets to the tent

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(1d20+2)[3]
EDIT: That one I'm stuck with fair and square.

[ChronicLunacy]

“Well, it didn't go precisely as planned...” Lotti wiped her nose and got gingerly to her feet, replacing Rambo in her pocket. Her dress was ruined and she didn't know how to do a mending spell, but compared to the troubles everyone else was going through she didn't feel like complaining about it. At least she was alive. "Um...did...I heard someone say something. Did someone cast a healing spell on me? Did you see who it was?" she asked the helpful clown man. She put her hands on the small of her back and leaned backwards until she heard something pop, then straightened again.

Spoiler: OOC, Mechanics, and Statblock

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OOC:



Lotti Underfoot
Lightfoot Halfling Wild Magic Sorcerer 1 NG

AC 15 HP 4/6 Speed 25ft

Str 8 (-1) Dex 15 (2) Con 11 (0) Wis 8 (-1) Int 10 (0) Cha 14 (2)

Attacks
Light Crossbow 20/20 +4 1d8+2 P
Daggers x2 +4 1d4+2 P

Small Size
Lucky (Reroll 1's on attacks, abilities, and saves)
Brave (Advantage vs fear saves)
Halfling Nimbleness (Move through larger creatures' spaces)
Naturally Stealthy (Hide behind larger creatures)
Sorcerer Weapons (Daggers, darts, slings, quarterstaffs, light crossbows)
Sorcerous Origin: Wild Magic
Wild Magic Surge
Tides of Chaos (1/rest) [Currently unavailable]

[Wheaton's Whelp]

Having witnessed Jasper tear into Lotti, Bartruem felt for the poor gal. She fought bravely against a beast of such size. Walking over to the halfing, "Quite a show you put on indeed young miss. Glad to see you're well. My name is Bartreum Thurmir, if you'd not mind I can see to it your dress is returned to socially acceptable wear?" Bartreum closes his eyes and hovers his hands about half a foot above the tattered dress.

"Shouldn' take such risks in the future, not right for the world to lose bright lights like ya." After a minute the dress has been weaved back into pre-bear condition. "Best help fix what I can, good fight today." At that Bartreum stands and progresses to use the mending magic provided by the Artisan to bring repair and order to the damaged areas.

[ChronicLunacy]

“Well...yeah, it was long odds, I'll give you that one..." Lotti admitted as she picked up her newly mended dress and presto-change-o'd it back to pristine condition with a little snap of her fingers. "Thank you, mister dwarf. B-but halflings and especially this one, Lotti Underfoot, don't run! Not from big folk and not from big bears. And he wasn't evil, he was just confused...I..." she sniffed again as the waterworks threatened to begin anew. "Jasper deserved better. I need to find out why this happened..." she decided as she started to follow Bartuem around, using prestidigitation to clean the things he fixed.

Spoiler: OOC, Mechanics, and Statblock

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OOC:



Lotti Underfoot
Lightfoot Halfling Wild Magic Sorcerer 1 NG

AC 15 HP 4/6 Speed 25ft

Str 8 (-1) Dex 15 (2) Con 11 (0) Wis 8 (-1) Int 10 (0) Cha 14 (2)

Attacks
Light Crossbow 20/20 +4 1d8+2 P
Daggers x2 +4 1d4+2 P

Small Size
Lucky (Reroll 1's on attacks, abilities, and saves)
Brave (Advantage vs fear saves)
Halfling Nimbleness (Move through larger creatures' spaces)
Naturally Stealthy (Hide behind larger creatures)
Sorcerer Weapons (Daggers, darts, slings, quarterstaffs, light crossbows)
Sorcerous Origin: Wild Magic
Wild Magic Surge
Tides of Chaos (1/rest) [Currently unavailable]

[braven]

Cinder feels a chill pass through her, setting her skin on edge as she listens to the woman. She glances around as she looks about the tent. "Ma'am, I'd like to ask you for two favors. First, let me take you to Bluevine Cottage, where you can take the time you need to treat your hand properly. We have still waters for the moment. I don't know enough to know if it is the still of a storm passed or the still of the eye of the storm. Second, after I'm slightly better armed than I am now, I'll need directions to your ranch. The only good news I can offer is with Bella's injury, there's every chance Nero would be able to out maneuver her if she was affected by whatever turned the livestock hostile."

The farmer's wife smiles, a bit more genuine this time. "You're kind. But I won't rest easy until I know my Nero's safe." She stands when Cinder is done wrapping her hand. "It's my left, so I can still hold something. Used to be a mighty fine pig-catcher. It's how Nero and I met." She glances around, picks up a short plank of wood leftover from the makeshift pigpen's construction. She smiles at Cinder again. "I'm Maddy, by the by. Farm's this way..." She gestures west.

Before they depart, a boy comes running down the road to the east, looking fairly robbed of breath. "Uh, you." He braces his hands against his knees, glancing up at the half-elf. "Captain Pereson said he needs to, uh, talk to you later. 'Bout something. Says you helped a lot."

"Excellent haste," Nereus nods to the boy running back, glad to see that medical attention can be provided. He continues south toward the medical tent, hoping to stock up on portable healing that can be used in the likely event that they come across someone in future who needs the assistance when there is no priest around.

Unfortunately, there don't seem to actually be any healing potions in the temple itself. Maybe there is an alchemist set up somewhere that was obscured by the festivities. As Nereus is looking around, a familiar guard appears in the doorway - Geoffrey. "Ne'er-do-wells are cleaning up," he remarks. "They said you headed this way. Need help with something?" He clears his throat. "Saw Captain Pereson in the town square. He said he'd be wanting to see you later. You and some others."

“Well, it didn't go precisely as planned...” Lotti wiped her nose and got gingerly to her feet, replacing Rambo in her pocket. Her dress was ruined and she didn't know how to do a mending spell, but compared to the troubles everyone else was going through she didn't feel like complaining about it. At least she was alive. "Um...did...I heard someone say something. Did someone cast a healing spell on me? Did you see who it was?" she asked the helpful clown man. She put her hands on the small of her back and leaned backwards until she heard something pop, then straightened again.

+ Bartreum

The jester looks around a bit, then nods. "Ah, there! The old fellow." He wags a finger at one of the men helping Clive stand. "Had an amulet of the Lodestar, so must be one of the priests. Oh, hello!" he says to a dwarf who approaches to fix the halfling's clothing.

A guard walks over to follow the pair when they head off to clean - the same rough rider talked down by Nereus a few moments ago. The guard glowers at the jester as he passes, then catches up to the others. "Dwarf. ...Lotti. Captain Pereson wants to see you later, if this all cleans up soon enough."

Spoiler: Lotti only

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Lotti recognizes Harry. He always wins in seasonal horse races, and is considered an exceptional rider. It is widely believed, possibly accurately, that he hates most people.

For Mercer

After sending a few people off with messages, Clive Pereson looks to Mercer. The guard captain is still somewhat unsteady on his feet, but has a relatively relaxed look in his eye. "Haven't forgotten how you stepped up. Come talk with me with the others later, won't you?

[Nettlekid]

"Indeed, I was hoping that the healer's tent I saw while coming in would have some medical supplies that we could distribute through the community. Have thee any poultices? I know not what news of the incident reached here, but there have been animal attacks across the town leaving a wide spread of injuries. If those kept in thy gaol are of sound mind then any able bodies would be appreciated to search the city and record the damages."

[braven]

"Indeed, I was hoping that the healer's tent I saw while coming in would have some medical supplies that we could distribute through the community. Have thee any poultices? I know not what news of the incident reached here, but there have been animal attacks across the town leaving a wide spread of injuries. If those kept in thy gaol are of sound mind then any able bodies would be appreciated to search the city and record the damages."

The guard Geoffrey puzzles over Nereus' words for a good several seconds, and he even moves his lips a little in silent echo of a few phrases. "Oh." He nods sharply. "My aunt, Jessica. She runs an alchemist's shop on the north end of town. I'm sure she'd be happy to help the injured though."

[Nettlekid]

"Appreciated," Nereus nods, before heaving a weary sigh and starting to clomp off back the path he had come down, now headed to the opposite side of the city.

[willowedc]

Cinder listened as the boy spoke as he fought to catch his breath. She dug around in her satchel for a moment before pulling out a pair of mints. She handed them to the boy as she said, “Once you’ve caught your breath, suck on these. They’ll perk you right up. They’re called Fire Mints. The mint flavor is very potent, but the sweet makes it delicious. If you’d tell the captain, Maddy and I are going to check on Nero, I would appreciate it. I'll return as swiftly as I am able.”

After handing the boy the mints, she caught hold of pair of dirty cloths, tucked one into her belt, and started wrapping her right hand and wrist as she said, “Ready when you are Maddy.”

[WhismurWanders]

Some strong folks run to be the first to help Mercer lift up Captain Clive. One says, "I don't know you, stranger, but I'm glad to see the Captain in one piece. Good on you, finding him."

Mercer helps for the first few steps, but allows the stronger of the bunch to overtake the majority of the weight, leaning back and pushing some wet clumps of hair from his face. "Didn't just find him, kept him from harm's way," he mentions, already feeling a bit more confident, having thrown some clout around. He follows the group and watches as the ranger-woman awakens him and releases a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. While he knew his magic had kept the captain alive, he was relieved to see the man walking around and speaking again. Even with all his experience with the sick and infirm as a cleric, something about unconscious people unsettled him.

Content with the praise and recognition he had received from the group, he hung back and pondered something. The transpired events reminded him of an old tome he had pored over ... it must have been years ago. Probably one of many nights of studying when he was a younger man. If what he remembered was truly connected to what was going on...

For Mercer

After sending a few people off with messages, Clive Pereson looks to Mercer. The guard captain is still somewhat unsteady on his feet, but has a relatively relaxed look in his eye. "Haven't forgotten how you stepped up. Come talk with me with the others later, won't you?

The captain's voice brings him back to the present. Mercer puffs his chest out slightly, feeling that such an invitation could only mean that he was being rewarded for his heroism in the face of danger, and answers, "'Twas the Lodestar who simply brought me to the right place at the right time. I would be honored to join you later."

[Wheaton's Whelp]

Bartreum doesn't object to the command, but takes a bit of time before working his way over. Heading back to his sitting spot from earlier, the weary dwarf looks for the tapped keg his gang of gossips and storytellers had been working to empty. Upon finding it and pouring himself a flagon of ale, Bartreum lifts the drink towards the clearing sky, Behold! You who has created the smiths. Who blows the fire of coals. And brought the first weapon from its works. You who has created the destroyer to ruin. I drink to your continued Divine Providence. At the conclusion of his prayer Bartreum takes a hardy drink before refilling the flagon to the brim, and walking over to Captain Pereson.

[braven]

Night descends on Sumak

Through the rest of the afternoon, and well into the evening, the village works to repair the damage done. Some festive tents are collapsed, mostly by out-of-towners eager to depart. A few of the uninjured horses, those confirmed to have not acted out, are given to a select few swift riders to carry messages to Greywater, Northbridge, Cloudview, and beyond. All through Sumak, animals are quarantined. A few dogs are killed outright by paranoid owners, as are a handful of other creatures.

Captain Pereson takes what help he can get from Mercer, Bartreum, and Lotti in organizing some of the cleanup. Once he sees Nereus working with the priests to organize the healings and care, he confirms Nereus as the leader of that task for the time being. With the help of many townsfolk, the wounded are sorted from the dead. Thankfully, the former by far outnumber the latter.

On the outskirts of town, Cinder is able to help Maddy the farmer find her husband, who is fine. Working with some others, they are able to find some of the wounded on the outskirts of town, and help them get back to the healers.

It takes a village, and it takes most of the day, but all make excellent progress. There are still a fair few waiting for proper healing and attention when evening comes, but not nearly as many as there were.

The skies remain clear. The stars come out. The star comes out, a deeply shaded streak of green against the misty starscape of the night.

It seems like an omen to the townsfolk, and no one is celebrating. Through the town, various citizens have opened their homes to ensure everyone is fed and has a bed. Not all are happy about it. Some mourn their lost.

As dark falls, Captain Pereson brings the group to a tent that had been set up for the guards to eat in. The guards are out now, some on watch and some resting from wounds. So, it is only the Captain of the guard, and the Old Ranger Clemens, and seven bowls of brothy soup slowly going cold. Seven flagons of watery ale, as well. Outside the tent, the green streak of the comet can be seen over the rooftops of Sumak.

"I hadn't thanked you, properly," Captain Pereson says to the five: Mercer, Lotti, Nereus, Cinder, and Bartreum. "I saw and heard of how you stepped up today, and I won't soon forget it." He takes a drink, slowly, and his gaze briefly drops to the chipping wood of the table. "I haven't told the townspeople yet, but our mayor fell to one of his dogs. They weren't used to old Thomas being present much lately, so he isn't missed much, I suppose. I'll tell them tomorrow. Point of it being, until his cousin in Greywater gets my message, I'm the main authority in Sumak." A pause. "What a day."

[willowedc]

Cinder looked at each of the people within the tent with an assessing gaze. She watched Captain Clive as he spoke, though her heart raced for a moment when he mentioned Greywater and the mayor’s cousin. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember the Mayor’s surname, but there was no reason to think he had anything to do with her grand father.

Lotti was bouncing slightly in her seat as she took in everything around her. The dwarf, was scowling at the liquid in his stein as he listened to the captain. She recognized his voice from before everything went sideways, and introduced herself before they settled down to meet with the captain. His name was Bartreum, he was a metalsmith and cleric. Nearer to him sat Mercer, also a cleric, though he worshiped the Lodestone. The last of those gathered by the captain, was called Nereus, he reminded her of her grandfather in bearing. Though Nereus seemed genuinely concerned for those around him.

Spoiler: Insight checks

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Captain Clive: (1d20+3)[12]
Lotti: (1d20+3)[13]
Bartreum: (1d20+3)[14]
Mercer: (1d20+3)[17]
Nereus: (1d20+3)[11]

After considering each of the others, she pulled the bag of unopened taffy out of her satchel and set it on the table. She nudged Lotti and offered her the sweet silently, before she said, “I am uncertain of the reason you have brought your change in village duties to our attention, Captain Clive. A swift messenger will arrive to Greywater before dawn, and you will undoubtedly receive word by tomorrow dusk. If you need able bodies to stand watch, you need only ask. If you need something other, I would appreciate plain speech.”

A mouth cracking yawn interrupted her, and caused her cheeks to stain with an embarrassed blush. “My apologies. I am only a day returned to Sumak, and not to disparage your cook, but that,” she glanced at the thin stew, “is filling, without being satisfying. I do not wish to rush you, but I will soon sleep where I sit and I would much prefer to sleep in my bed, behind a thick oak door and sturdy oak shutters. The events of the day were too strange, to allow for rest in unfamiliar locations. Though I do have a rug by the fire, with more pillows than you'd probably find comfortable, to offer, if any of you still have need of lodging. The cottage is private, well constructed, and near enough to hear the warning bells.”

[braven]

Spoiler: Clive Pereson Image

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A soft huff escapes Captain Pereson, amusement or tiredness or both. "The mayor's cousin, and you'll need to pardon my saying so if you'd please, is a layabout of the kind only Greywater could breed. He's a consistent late lad. If master Oppel deigns to arrive at all, he will be late. No. We are on our own until Greywater sends whoever they may, and it isn't a watch I need. I have good men for that."

"No," Pereson says. "No, sirs and ladies, I need something else. One of the farmers who came in from the outskirts reported seeing something flying down from the rainclouds and into the trees. I don't know where it's from, I don't know how it came to be here, and I don't know why it did what it did - if it was involved at all. The man described glowing snakes, but that doesn't mesh with anything I or Ranger Clemens know of the Forest."

His hands come up to fold in front of him, and he brings his chin to rest at the peak of them. "I cannot leave this town unprotected. But when the other city-states hear of what's happened, they will want answers. I need those answers. At the willingness of the farmers and the permission of Knight Thrace of Cloudview, I have the means to pay you all quite well for looking into the matter."

Pereson brings his hands down flat on the tabletop. "Indeed, I would gladly reward you to find the answer to the storm that visited us this afternoon."

Spoiler: Cinder Only

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Pereson seems to be sincere.

[ChronicLunacy]

Cinder had disappeared after the battle with the bear, so Lotti about an hour or two trying to find her new friend -- making sure to remind people that she was a half-elf that dressed in robes and liked to kick farm animals. Fortunately, Cinder arrived back at the town square after her venture to Nero's cottage and Lotti excitedly told her the story of how close she'd come to death. She followed that up by the somewhat less enthusiastic conferral of the news of Jasper's ultimate fate.

Lotti also took a solemn moment to gift the cleric of Lodestone, Mercer, some of her leftover candy as a thank you for saving her life, informing him that she owed him one and that she was going to repay him for his kindness. That was what was apparently known as a "halfling promise!" ...whatever that meant.

In addition to the cleanup, Lotti had insisted that the dancing bear be given a proper burial instead of being skinned for a rug or chopped up for some hunter's stew like any other beast. The other villagers either had seen her blasting magic during the kerfuffle today or just didn't want her to suddenly explode into some kind of wild magical confluence as she rarely tended to do. So they acquiesced to her demands. Lotti constructed a crude grave marker and laid Jasper to rest under a tree, laying the little hat he'd been wearing on top of it.

When she finally dragged herself over to the guard tent to speak with Captain Clive, she climbed wearily up onto the bench and swung her legs freely underneath her. The seats were made for big people, so she looked like a child sitting at the adult table. She sat between Cinder and the nice dwarf, bouncing in her seat.

Spoiler: Deception vs. Cinder's Insight

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Deception DC13: (1d20+4)[12]
Lotti was trying to hide it, but almost dying had thoroughly rattled her. Cinder could tell by the way the halfling stared at her soup, not even eating the offered taffy, that she had been scared out of her mind but was currently too stubborn to let anyone know about it. She was putting on one hell of a brave front.

"I'm sure my mother will provide a bed for anyone that needs one." Lotti added, nodding toward the inn across the square. It had been spared most of the damage, as it had already been filled with people during the attack and the only animals they kept around were around back -- penned up chickens, cows, and a stable for the customers' horses. She hadn't been back in there yet with all the work that needed doing around town, but she had waved to her sister from the street to let her know that she was alright.

As for the task for Captain Clive, Lotti immediately volunteered. "I'm going. For Jasper and those poor people today. No evil villain does this in my town!" she slammed her little fist down on the table with a thunk, then winced and put her hand under the table to rub it with her other hand.

Spoiler: OOC, Mechanics, and Statblock

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OOC:



Lotti Underfoot
Lightfoot Halfling Wild Magic Sorcerer 1 NG

AC 15 HP 4/6 Speed 25ft

Str 8 (-1) Dex 15 (2) Con 11 (0) Wis 8 (-1) Int 10 (0) Cha 14 (2)

Attacks
Light Crossbow 20/20 +4 1d8+2 P
Daggers x2 +4 1d4+2 P

Small Size
Lucky (Reroll 1's on attacks, abilities, and saves)
Brave (Advantage vs fear saves)
Halfling Nimbleness (Move through larger creatures' spaces)
Naturally Stealthy (Hide behind larger creatures)
Sorcerer Weapons (Daggers, darts, slings, quarterstaffs, light crossbows)
Sorcerous Origin: Wild Magic
Wild Magic Surge
Tides of Chaos (1/rest) [Currently unavailable]

[WhismurWanders]

Lotti also took a solemn moment to gift the cleric of Lodestone, Mercer, some of her leftover candy as a thank you for saving her life, informing him that she owed him one and that she was going to repay him for his kindness. That was what was apparently known as a "halfling promise!" ...whatever that meant.

Mercer accepts the gift with a raised eyebrow, but doesn't make a scene. In his experience, halflings were indeed no strangers to strange customs such as this. He mentally waved it aside as a simple show of gratitude, and accepted the thanks. Who knew, perhaps a 'halfling promise' could even be worth something some day.

As dark falls, Captain Pereson brings the group to a tent that had been set up for the guards to eat in. The guards are out now, some on watch and some resting from wounds. So, it is only the Captain of the guard, and the Old Ranger Clemens, and seven bowls of brothy soup slowly going cold. Seven flagons of watery ale, as well. Outside the tent, the green streak of the comet can be seen over the rooftops of Sumak.

"I hadn't thanked you, properly," Captain Pereson says to the five: Mercer, Lotti, Nereus, Cinder, and Bartreum. "I saw and heard of how you stepped up today, and I won't soon forget it." He takes a drink, slowly, and his gaze briefly drops to the chipping wood of the table. "I haven't told the townspeople yet, but our mayor fell to one of his dogs. They weren't used to old Thomas being present much lately, so he isn't missed much, I suppose. I'll tell them tomorrow. Point of it being, until his cousin in Greywater gets my message, I'm the main authority in Sumak." A pause. "What a day."

Mercer raises his flagon to the captain's words. "Hear, hear. 'And in that time, sheep and pig preyed upon the wolf, and the wolves upon they.' We may find ourselves in strange times, but those are the times when the gods call us to answer the challenges of ... of ... of life." Though his voice stumbled over the ending of what was supposed to be a larger gesture, he simply took a long sip of the ale. When he lowers the flagon again, some beads of liquid stream along his facial hair as he dives into the stew. His time in solitude had made his palate less refined, and always ready to accept a meal when it was placed before him.

A soft huff escapes Captain Pereson, amusement or tiredness or both. "The mayor's cousin, and you'll need to pardon my saying so if you'd please, is a layabout of the kind only Greywater could breed. He's a consistent late lad. If master Oppel deigns to arrive at all, he will be late. No. We are on our own until Greywater sends whoever they may, and it isn't a watch I need. I have good men for that."

"No," Pereson says. "No, sirs and ladies, I need something else. One of the farmers who came in from the outskirts reported seeing something flying down from the rainclouds and into the trees. I don't know where it's from, I don't know how it came to be here, and I don't know why it did what it did - if it was involved at all. The man described glowing snakes, but that doesn't mesh with anything I or Ranger Clemens know of the Forest."

His hands come up to fold in front of him, and he brings his chin to rest at the peak of them. "I cannot leave this town unprotected. But when the other city-states hear of what's happened, they will want answers. I need those answers. At the willingness of the farmers and the permission of Knight Thrace of Cloudview, I have the means to pay you all quite well for looking into the matter."

Pereson brings his hands down flat on the tabletop. "Indeed, I would gladly reward you to find the answer to the storm that visited us this afternoon."

Mercer speaks up after hastily swallowing a mouthful of food, "Gladly. The omens have aligned, bringing m- us all here. The gods have blessed us so far, and it would be unwise to deviate from their course."

[Wheaton's Whelp]

Silently observing those at the table while looking unsatisfying at a watered down ale, Bartreum weighs the risks of the proposed exploration. Prior to the meeting he had the chance to get to know the other would-be adventurers, and despite mentally repeating their names continued to remember them on the spot. Most familiar now with Mercer and the darling Lotti after helping Sumac recoup after the day's events. The work ethic of Mercer during the town's cleanup, worthy of acknowledgement, certainly would be useful. The halfling continued to remind Bartreum of dwarven culture back in Shieldwall: can be brash and unforgiving, but loyal to a fault to her town and own. Nereus could fight, no doubt, and Bartreum had never seen such a kick to a pig before Cinder strolled into his life.

Dropping the foot of his flagon harshly against the table to announce his intentions to talk, "Not many in the face of danger run towards the fight. But, not all'of us are that smart. Ya lot are alright, by my shield and the Artisan's will we'll all be a bit shinier coming back. To the festival!" Bartreum chuckles slightly before finishing the last of the ale-flavored water.

[braven]

Dropping the foot of his flagon harshly against the table to announce his intentions to talk, "Not many in the face of danger run towards the fight. But, not all'of us are that smart. Ya lot are alright, by my shield and the Artisan's will we'll all be a bit shinier coming back. To the festival!" Bartreum chuckles slightly before finishing the last of the ale-flavored water.

"I should hope you'll all be coming back." Pereson chuckles, a bit nervously. He casts a glance around at all five of them. "I'm certain you'll see that done, master dwarf?" he smiles, and sips on his own ale-water with a grimace. "Maybe by the time you get back we'll have some fresh casks in. Unfortunate that the mead-seller was first to go."

"Eh." Beside Pereson, Ranger Clemens hasn't touched her food. "Small loss."

Mercer speaks up after hastily swallowing a mouthful of food, "Gladly. The omens have aligned, bringing m- us all here. The gods have blessed us so far, and it would be unwise to deviate from their course."

"...Right," Pereson says through a smile, a single eyebrow lifting a little.

As for the task for Captain Clive, Lotti immediately volunteered. "I'm going. For Jasper and those poor people today. No evil villain does this in my town!" she slammed her little fist down on the table with a thunk, then winced and put her hand under the table to rub it with her other hand.

He smiles at that. "I knew I could count on you, Lotti."

A mouth cracking yawn interrupted her, and caused her cheeks to stain with an embarrassed blush. “My apologies. I am only a day returned to Sumak, and not to disparage your cook, but that,” she glanced at the thin stew, “is filling, without being satisfying. I do not wish to rush you, but I will soon sleep where I sit and I would much prefer to sleep in my bed, behind a thick oak door and sturdy oak shutters. The events of the day were too strange, to allow for rest in unfamiliar locations. Though I do have a rug by the fire, with more pillows than you'd probably find comfortable, to offer, if any of you still have need of lodging. The cottage is private, well constructed, and near enough to hear the warning bells.”

"Right." Pereson takes another long drink to finish off his ale. "I'm certain I've kept you all from sleep quite long enough. If no one has any questions, I have no desire to continue in keeping you up."

Ranger Clemens speaks up. "The captain asked me to consider helping in this, but my task will lie elsewhere. I will be working with the captain to formulate a message I am sending to the Darkwood Conclave."

[ChronicLunacy]

"Should have gotten these from my dad! The Forest Home always brews its own ale! Not cheap, out of town stuff!" Lotti couldn't help but advertise her family's business a little more. Then she hopped up onto her seat, putting her at mostly about head height with the rest of the group, and shouted, "To the inn!"

Then she hopped off and went home. Her bed was calling her name and it had been a long day. Besides, Goodwife Longfellow surely had to scold her before she went to sleep, both for shirking her duties that day and for volunteering to go on this crazy mission, and who knew how long that was going to take?

Spoiler: OOC, Mechanics, and Statblock

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OOC:



Lotti Underfoot
Lightfoot Halfling Wild Magic Sorcerer 1 NG

AC 15 HP 4/6 Speed 25ft

Str 8 (-1) Dex 15 (2) Con 11 (0) Wis 8 (-1) Int 10 (0) Cha 14 (2)

Attacks
Light Crossbow 20/20 +4 1d8+2 P
Daggers x2 +4 1d4+2 P

Small Size
Lucky (Reroll 1's on attacks, abilities, and saves)
Brave (Advantage vs fear saves)
Halfling Nimbleness (Move through larger creatures' spaces)
Naturally Stealthy (Hide behind larger creatures)
Sorcerer Weapons (Daggers, darts, slings, quarterstaffs, light crossbows)
Sorcerous Origin: Wild Magic
Wild Magic Surge
Tides of Chaos (1/rest) [Currently unavailable]

[willowedc]

Cinder waited until Lotti rushed out of the tent, before she collected the untouched bag of sweets. She stared at the bag in her hand for a long moment. “Captain, I realize this is a small thing, but the daggers that were buried in Jasper’s side. Any idea where they might have ended up?” she asked as she tore her gaze from the taffy, and met the captain’s gaze.

Her heart raced, Captain Clive had exceedingly beautiful eyes. She’d thought him handsome from a distance, and now that she’d met with him face to face she realized she’d undervalued his appeal. She swallowed, and stood suddenly. “Never mind,” she added quickly. “They were only a gift. Medic Niles would have preferred they be lost while saving a life, than be worn in their sheaths for a lifetime.”

She set the bag of taffy before the captain with a slight blush to her cheeks and a short bow. “A treat for your wife and children,” she said in a rush, before she turned and bowed to the others. A moment later she was leaving the tent at a swift pace. As soon as she reached the statue of the Sage her cheeks blossomed into a full blush, which caused her to break out into a sprint in hopes of leaving her embarrassment behind her in the square.

[Nettlekid]

Nereus has been largely quiet for a while, tired after several laps of running across the town in a poorly planned attempt at keeping track of what was secure and where the injured were being cared for. He downs the thin soup quickly and it isn't enough to fill him, but he doesn't ask for more. He sips the ale, not particularly enjoying it but thankful for something to slake his thirst.
"Captain Pereson," he says finally, after a period of deliberation. He's a little anxious about making plans to work alongside so many people who he doesn't know and who haven't been properly observed. "If thou art requesting our aid in understanding today's tragedy, we would be best served fully armed and equipped with the information thou art privy to. Thou speakest of plans to contact the Darkwood Conclave - what is this organization? What know they of the green star, that Ranger Clemens bade me speak with them to sate my curiosity? Furthermore to the point, what are the omens associated with the star? 'Bad omen' this and 'poor portents' that, what words were spoken to thee warning thee of disaster with the coming of the star? Pig and sheep and wolf, what else?" Nereus is beginning to get frustrated, as Ranger Clemens has been cagier than he would imagine someone who actually wanted to help the situation should be.

"Besides that...I am curious about this sky serpent. Slipped down from the sky and into the trees, thou sayest, seen only by one? I wonder if such was by design, and the attack on the town a ruse to draw attention. It is a tactic I have witnessed in the past. The Sahuagin breed plentifully and mutate frequently, and on occasion spawn Malenti which are as twisted as Sahuagin at heart but every bit as beautiful in the face as an Elf. Years ago there was an attack by Sahuagin raiders, uncommonly direct and of great number but weak fortitude. We mustered and beat them back by our combined effort and with minimal casualty. Forty tides later the Elven chancellor was murdered, gutted in his sleep. We believe a Malenti infiltrated disguised as a warrior combating the raiders, and went overlooked in the chaos and loss. This serpent of the sky may be just such a thing, one animal posing no immediate threat while all others around bare their fangs."

[braven]

"Should have gotten these from my dad! The Forest Home always brews its own ale! Not cheap, out of town stuff!" Lotti couldn't help but advertise her family's business a little more. Then she hopped up onto her seat, putting her at mostly about head height with the rest of the group, and shouted, "To the inn!"

Then she hopped off and went home.

She set the bag of taffy before the captain with a slight blush to her cheeks and a short bow. “A treat for your wife and children,” she said in a rush, before she turned and bowed to the others. A moment later she was leaving the tent at a swift pace.

Pereson nods to each woman as she leaves. "Always a flighty one," he murmurs of Lotti in amusement. To the taffy, he merely raises an eyebrow down at the candy before nudging it away from the bowl of soup he is still working on.

"Captain Pereson, If thou art requesting our aid in understanding today's tragedy, we would be best served fully armed and equipped with the information thou art privy to. Thou speakest of plans to contact the Darkwood Conclave - what is this organization? What know they of the green star, that Ranger Clemens bade me speak with them to sate my curiosity? Furthermore to the point, what are the omens associated with the star? 'Bad omen' this and 'poor portents' that, what words were spoken to thee warning thee of disaster with the coming of the star? Pig and sheep and wolf, what else?"

In wake of the words, Pereson sweeps a hand toward Ranger Clemens, passing the figurative torch - but wait, Nereus has more to say.

"Besides that...I am curious about this sky serpent. Slipped down from the sky and into the trees, thou sayest, seen only by one? I wonder if such was by design, and the attack on the town a ruse to draw attention. It is a tactic I have witnessed in the past. The Sahuagin breed plentifully and mutate frequently, and on occasion spawn Malenti which are as twisted as Sahuagin at heart but every bit as beautiful in the face as an Elf. Years ago there was an attack by Sahuagin raiders, uncommonly direct and of great number but weak fortitude. We mustered and beat them back by our combined effort and with minimal casualty. Forty tides later the Elven chancellor was murdered, gutted in his sleep. We believe a Malenti infiltrated disguised as a warrior combating the raiders, and went overlooked in the chaos and loss. This serpent of the sky may be just such a thing, one animal posing no immediate threat while all others around bare their fangs."

"I see," is all Captain Pereson has to say to that, his brow weighted with consideration. "Clementine, if you would?"

Old Ranger Clemens has sat up straight through all this, tall as a ship's mast in her austerity. "Of course, Clive. At ease, Nereus. I have no intention to send you ignorant into the Forest." She takes a deep breath before continuing.

"The Darkwood Conclave is, put simply, the furthest settlement organized by Amelos in the Forest. It is at least two weeks' journey out in the best of circumstances. Rangers are the lifeblood of the Conclave, and they have many trade relationships with the denizens of the forest. The orc tribes and the waspfolk especially. It is from those that most of the things I heard came. The orc tribes describe one of the fouler gods of their people as having a green eye set against its many dark and speckled faces. The waspfolk are less eager storytellers, but they do speak of a great green wasp that came long ago to swallow up their children. It was these mentions that made me...ponder on the Festival. Any reason to celebrate, I suppose."

Pereson nods, then glances to Mercer, "What was that you said of wolves and pigs and such?" Then, to Nereus he says, "I understand your wariness. But what then would you suggest? Ignore the snakes and allow that they may be a danger? What is it you would do, outsider?"

[WhismurWanders]

Pereson nods, then glances to Mercer, "What was that you said of wolves and pigs and such?"

Mercer looks up from his empty bowl and answers, "Ah, nothing all too concerning. Today's events reminded me of a passage I read back in my younger days as an acolyte." He straightens himself up and repeats the verse in its entirety;

"And in that time,
sheep and pig preyed upon the wolf,
and the wolves upon they.
And Pariah watched,
wolf and lion cried for his aid,
and he cast it where nothing grows"

He settles back down slightly and remarks, "It was a passage in one of the tomes of old myths and legends. Dusty, tattered old thing that it was, many pages, even entire passages were missing. I merely thought it an accurate parallel to our situation. I haven't the faintest idea if it is connected or not."

Curious about one other detail, he speaks up again and asks, "And who exactly was the person who saw this ... snake thing? We will likely need his help determining where to start looking."

[braven]

Mercer looks up from his empty bowl and answers, "Ah, nothing all too concerning. Today's events reminded me of a passage I read back in my younger days as an acolyte." He straightens himself up and repeats the verse in its entirety;

"And in that time,
sheep and pig preyed upon the wolf,
and the wolves upon they.
And Pariah watched,
wolf and lion cried for his aid,
and he cast it where nothing grows"

He settles back down slightly and remarks, "It was a passage in one of the tomes of old myths and legends.
Dusty, tattered old thing that it was, many pages, even entire passages were missing. I merely thought it an accurate parallel to our situation. I haven't the faintest idea if it is connected or not."

Curious about one other detail, he speaks up again and asks, "And who exactly was the person who saw this ...
snake thing? We will likely need his help determining where to start looking."

The Captain runs a finger over the edge of his beard, nodding. "Oh, of course. One of the farmers. Dale, I believe his name is. He doesn't talk much, but he usually has something worth hearing. He's out helping my guards check the last of the watchtowers by now. Should be happy to show you where he saw the...snake thing."

After a moment, he adds, "I'll ask the scholars at the observation lodge if they know anything about your verse."

[Nettlekid]

But what then would you suggest? Ignore the snakes and allow that they may be a danger? What is it you would do, outsider?"

"No, much the opposite. Treat the matter not as a curiosity, but with every possible precaution. By chance a citizen glimpsed the serpent; very easily could it have slipped from the surface-from the heavens unseen. If that is what it desired then we must consider the gravity of an invader with the heartlessness to send all beasts into a frenzy and the inexplicable means to do so using such a tactic as a diversion."

Nereus leans back in his chair, taking in first Clemens' recounting of the forest folk and then Mercer's passage.
"There is weight to be carried in the stories of old. Meaning masked behind obfuscating metaphor, perhaps, but any tale remembered to this day is one the people of ages past sought to have heard. A foul god, a pestilence...Yet each tribe's recounting views the green harbinger as one of their own. The Orcs see it an Orc, the Wasps see it a Wasp. Perhaps the threat then to Humanity will be whispered of in stories as taking the form of an off-color Human?"
He pauses for a little too long.
"I give you my word that I am not the threat of which we speak."
He gives a small cough.
"Or, perhaps, the star is not a sign for us. A message displayed in the sky is visible from every point on land. It may be meant for another, perhaps for the Orcs or Wasps or yet another we know of not. We may well be caught in the vortex of crossing currents. In any case, we have too little information now. I am eager to meet with this Darkwood Conclave and to see what preparations they make. If they recall their own stories then they will be more ready to act than we."

[braven]

After a moment, Captain Pereson nods. "Indeed."

Little more is discussed in the night, or much.

The night passes without incident. It is not necessarily a quiet night. Crickets chirp. Owls hoot. Somewhere, someone sings softly.

Over Sumak, the green scar in the night sky burns brightly.

Spoiler: OOC - All

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Taking heed of Nereus' words, Captain Pereson sees the following delivered to the party, with some help from the alchemist Jessica:

Nereus - 1 potion of healing
Cinder - 2 daggers in good shape
Lotti - 1 potion of speak with animals
Bartreum - 1 potion of climbing
Mercer - 1 scroll of Bless

-------

The Following Day

The next morning comes, also without incident. More patrols of guards and commoners head out, finding any straggler animals to quarantine away. Captain Pereson is scarce through the morning, busy directing healings and patrols of the town. More out-of-towners pack up their things. This is not their trouble.

A very large, very quiet man is presented to the party as Dale. The man who saw the snakes. He says very little - he introduces himself, points the way, and waits for the party to gather themselves and be ready to go. And then he leads the way, if there are no great upheavels about it.

He leads the party about a mile out of town, past a gradually more spread out number of cottages, and a farm. It is at the farm that he turns, following a well-worn path toward the farmhouse and around. Some freshly furrowed rows make up a garden behind the farmhouse. A sack of seed, half-empty, rests against the back of the building.

Beyond the farmhouse, further north, the field goes wild. A simple and scarcely worn path winds through that field toward the towering trees of the Great Forest. Another half mile from the farmhouse. The burr-filled grass of the field gradually trade for thick green ferns that grow in size as the forest gets closer.

"Flew in this way," Dale says, stopping about thirty yards short of the first massive tree trunk. "Seemed to be going straight in." He points directly into the forest.

The trees stand tall as small hills, even here. Giants would trouble to huge some of the thick trunks that can be seen deeper in. The Forest floor is a mess of thick ferns and arching tree roots the size of normal logs. Even at the distance the party is now, the sounds of creatures strange and familiar can be made out from deeper in the forest, likely many obscured by vegetation.

Dale bobs his head, wipes his hands over his trousers. With a mutter about seeds, he starts back along the field path.

[willowedc]

"Went strait in," Cinder parroted, as she unfastened her cartography satchel with one hand. She fastened it into the open position, before she removed her journal and a graphite stylus. The odd writing implement looked more like parts of a handheld sundial, than something to write with. She soaked in the details of the path to the wood and made notations in her journal, with the shorthand she was taught by the monks. Her cartography shorthand had a spattering of navigational marks that acted as both identifier and distractor. After her first journal was stolen and maps she’d created attributed to another, she implemented this cipher system. So far it had worked wonderfully.

After she absorbed all she could from outside the forest, she tucked her notes back into her satchel, removed one of the spice dots, and fastened the satchel closed. She popped the candy into her mouth. Her eyes bulged for a moment as she adjusted to the sweet and spicy flavor. She brushed her fingers over the daggers in their sheaths, the darts in their quiver, and adjusted the straps to her pack, before she unslung her staff.

“I feel I should state it plainly. Being a cartographer means I stop when there is an element to be noted upon the path or off, as has happened a time or two. I’d be glad to lead as I am familiar with jaunts through untamed wood, though I make no promises that my direction will be the most direct,” she admitted. “Once we make camp, I will pick at your memories of the trail. I don’t know how to do more than cook a camp stew.”

[Wheaton's Whelp]

Spoiler: Night Prior

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Thankful to the Inn for a night's stay, and for the food and drink provided, Bartreum decided to spend a good portion of the night away from the kegs and the possibility of drunken debauchery. Choosing instead to spend most of the night in meditation before a large fire. Over hundred years working a forge has made the heat of roaring flame a nostalgic feeling for the dwarf. Taking the time to doff his armor, Bartreum kneels before the fire in silent prayer. Those watching notice when they turn away and look back that the armor, shield, and hammer become buffed and gleam in the light, losing any indication of use in the previous day. After a period, the dwarf scoops up the armor and hammer, proceeding to his lodging for the evening.

Bartreum had heard tales of the northern woods, with its trees large enough to hide mountains, but long thought it to be myth. Standing before the forest, canopy hanging high above their heads, the stout dwarf couldn't help be feel even smaller. "Alright... bit bigger than I initially imagined but it probably just looks big on the outside. Captain, Clemens, tis' it best we seek out the Conclave you spook of, or go about lookin' in all the owl holes?" The shade cast by the trees causes goose-pimples to form on Bartreum's forearms, revealing his growing anticipation and anxiety.

[ChronicLunacy]

When Lotti showed up, she had exchanged her festival dress for a shirt and some breeches with comfortable, leather boots and a good backpack. Her bright, red hair still looked like a torch in the dark shade provided by the trees. In addition to a couple of daggers sheathed inside her right boot and at her right hip, Lotti carried a set of quarrels hanging from her belt and a human-sized light crossbow in her hands. She carried it against one shoulder like a footsoldier with a halberd, but she seemed to at least be comfortable with the weapon. Of course, her big grin was unphased by the looming forest ahead. "Okay! Let's get crackin'!" she announced upon arrival at the farm.

Spoiler: OOC, Mechanics, and Statblock

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OOC:



Lotti Underfoot
Lightfoot Halfling Wild Magic Sorcerer 1 NG

AC 15 HP 4/6 Speed 25ft

Str 8 (-1) Dex 15 (2) Con 11 (0) Wis 8 (-1) Int 10 (0) Cha 14 (2)

Attacks
Light Crossbow 20/20 +4 1d8+2 P
Daggers x2 +4 1d4+2 P

Small Size
Lucky (Reroll 1's on attacks, abilities, and saves)
Brave (Advantage vs fear saves)
Halfling Nimbleness (Move through larger creatures' spaces)
Naturally Stealthy (Hide behind larger creatures)
Sorcerer Weapons (Daggers, darts, slings, quarterstaffs, light crossbows)
Sorcerous Origin: Wild Magic
Wild Magic Surge
Tides of Chaos (1/rest) [Currently unavailable]