HalfOrc HalfBiscuit
Adventurer
I'm very glad to see a new adventure kicking off for your somewhat eclectic band, Eris. Looking forward to more ... 
The Ambergate Chronicles - Galahorn or the Curious Adventure of the Glass Coffin
eris404
Explorer
Lela said:
Now that's an interesting little factoid.
This is sort of an odd tangent, but I was remembering visiting my dad's shop as a kid when I wrote this. My dad retreaded tires and I was remembering the noise the metal rims make when my dad was using a mallet and crowbar to pry the tire off: very loud, very grating, a sound you had to squint against. Sometimes I actually saw a sort of bright light behind my eyelids when I closed my eyes against the sound. I thought that was probably a pretty accurate noise to be coming out of a forge, but it was sort of hard for me to describe it. I'm glad it made sense.
Kid Charlemagne
I am the Very Model of a Modern Moderator
Lela said:
No, it was largely original, though inspired by something posted by an ENWorlder (Takyris, if I'm remembering correctly). I like to weave elements of the world directly into the story when I can - its better to have the PC's experience the history then to have it info-dumped on them. This particular adventure was intended (amongst many things) to introduce the player to the non-standard planar structure that I use in my campaign world, particularly since I intended to use it heavily in a couple of later adventures.
Lela
First Post
Thanks KidC.
And Eris, I happen to be a Digital Audio Restoration Artist (I take crap out of files--I do records too) so that kind of industry slang was drilled into my head. I figured I'd just toss it out as a P.S.
I did think it was brilliantly use to describe the mood of the place. We've all heard sounds like that: Piercing, loud and sudden. Shutting our eyes one of those natural instincts that everyone can share; immediately grabs your entire audience.
And Eris, I happen to be a Digital Audio Restoration Artist (I take crap out of files--I do records too) so that kind of industry slang was drilled into my head. I figured I'd just toss it out as a P.S.
I did think it was brilliantly use to describe the mood of the place. We've all heard sounds like that: Piercing, loud and sudden. Shutting our eyes one of those natural instincts that everyone can share; immediately grabs your entire audience.
eris404
Explorer
Master Lykor has given Dante instructions for the group to meet with him after the lecture. He has also warned him not to tell anyone outside of his little group and to instruct them to keep quiet as well. The rest of the class goes too slowly for these students, who are impatient to pack and make provisions. George is fairly bursting with questions which Dante waves away in alarm and the headmaster directs more than one scowl in their direction.
To make matters worse, Master Lykor refuses to speak of the matter until they are safely within his office. Once the door has been shut and affixed with glyphs (a precaution George finds both alarming and unnecessary), the teacher sighs and permits them to speak.
“Why was Worthen going to Dunbar?” Serai asks.
“It’s a fairly regular trip for him,” the master says, sinking into his armchair. With a casual wave of his hand, he invites the students to sit, but the chairs in here are hard, uncomfortable wooden ones usually meant to seat misbehaving pupils. Only George finds the chairs undaunting.
The master continues, “Dunbar is closest city where we can find unusual ingredients. You should try finding beholder eyelash in the market here sometime, if you don’t believe me.”
George raises his hand timidly, which makes Lykor smile. “We’re not in class now, George. You can ask whatever you like.”
“Sir, why didn’t you just scry on Worthen to find out where he is?”
Lykor’s frowns with something between displeasure and irritation. “Master Barleycorn, do you presume that you know more than the masters at this college?”
George swallows a lump in this throat, then replies with downcast eyes, “No, sir.”
But them master sighs and says in a gentler tone, “We did try, George. But, there are ways around magic of any kind, lad. I suppose to you students magic must seem like the answer to everything, but it isn’t. Sometimes you need to use your head.” He looks at each of them in turn. “We’re not sure what has happened, and that’s why we’re sending you. We trust you to use your heads, to make good decisions and stay safe. Stay together and don’t go looking for trouble. You have seven days; you must come back with or without Worthen in seven days or else. If we must send a master out to find you there will be consequences. Understood?”
The students nod solemnly.
“Excellent. I had the cook make up bundles for you, nothing special, just hardy food for the week. Pack lightly; we’re not supplying you with horse.”
“But,” Dante interjects. “What if Worthen is still in Dunbar? It will take longer than seven days to get there, look for Worthen and get back.”
Lykor smiles. “Ah! At last someone is using his brain! The answer, Dante, is that we’re fairly certain Worthen never made it to Dunbar. I’ve received messages from the merchants Worthen was supposed to visit. They have not seen hide nor hair of him.”
“Which could only mean the Old Forest,” Jade interjects.
“Possibly,” Lykor replies. “This is why I asked you to accompany the students. You know the signs and I’m relying on you to keep the students safe.”
Later, after the door was unsealed and Lykor saw them out, Dante turns on Jade. “Know the signs? What’s that supposed to mean.”
Jade shrugs. “Someone has to keep an eye on you. You’re not as resistant to Fey magic as I am.”
Dante wants to be angry. He scowls and tries to think of a good reason why they do not need Jade to watch over them like babies. But his logic tells him it only makes sense; aside from being an elf, Jade is also a druid, and the nature priests know more of Fey magic than most wizards do. It galls Dante to have his knowledge and abilities questioned, but he cannot argue with the logic. In the end he grits his teeth and says nothing more about it.
The next morning they wake well before sunrise and make small bundles of their blankets to hold the small supplies they plan to take with them: tinderboxes for making fires, whatever vials of magic potions they still have, a few odds and ends that they think might be helpful. Considering their last journey, George includes a new mirror in his pack (just in case) and the mound of shot he spent several hours making the night before. Serai borrowed several maps of the Old Forest from the library and these she stores tightly rolled in a tube of hard leather. Everyone remembers their mittens and scarves, for it is a very cold, crisp morning. Jade wonders aloud whether there could be snow today. And before anyone else is up for breakfast, the students are gone through the gate, and a line of black, leafless trees are before them on the horizon.
At about midday, they find Worthen’s wagon half-concealed by bushes and fallen limbs not far from the main road but a distance that would make it difficult to see; only Jade’s sharp eyes notices the wheels hidden well by the thorny, twisted branches of the brush. Whatever poor beast was drawing the wagon is long gone. Jade can make out some footprints he believes to be Worthen’s though the trail is far from clear. They seem to lead deeper into the Old Forest.
“Before we go on, there is something we should consider. These woods weren’t completely cleared,” Dante says. “That is, there are active gates all over this forest. Anything could come through and we could enter one by accident and not know for some time that we had passed through. Do you still want to continue?”
“Yes!” George replies without hesitation.
Serai considers a moment, then nods once, though cautiously.
Ishii merely smiles.
Dante looks at Jade, who shrugs and says, “I am game if you all are. This is entirely up to you.”
Dante takes a deep breath and says, “Lead on, Jade.”
Once in the forest, the light dims immediately and grows fainter quickly as the afternoon passes. Jade suggests looking for a place to spend the night, while Dante watches the forest floor for faerie rings. That is why he did not see the web until it was too late.
The sticky, silvery strands brush past his face, startling him. Arms flailing in disgust, he reaches out and finds to his horror there are more of the near-invisible strands before him. One arm is ensnared; in panic, he tries to snatch it back and only succeeds in entangling it further. With his other arm he tries to pull away the strands, but they stick to his hand. He is not strong enough to break the web and the more he panics, the more threads he comes into contact with, the more threads stick to him and bind him fast.
“Hold still!” Jade exclaims. In Elvish, he chants a few rhyming lines and a small flame dances in his palm. “I’m going to try to burn these off of you.”
Serai grips George’s shoulder tightly. When he turns to her, he sees that her eyes are wide with fright and that her finger points to a spider the size of a dog. Another is smoothly coming down on a thread of spider silk. In the dying light, the webs are backlit, revealing the dozens of traps strung between the trees all around them. Two more spiders, like dainty tightrope walkers, pick their way down the webs to surround them.
“Jade!” George shouts.
“I know, George!” Jade yells, annoyed. Burning the webs without burning Dante or getting stuck himself requires patience and concentration.
George is glad he thought to load his pistol this morning. He draws it and fires, striking a spider in the abdomen. It lets out shriek, which surprises and terrifies him. Sensing an opening, the spider rushes forward and bites George’s pistol arm with its pinchers.
Ishii punches and kicks another one, crushing its exoskeleton like an egg. Yellowish ichor leaks outs.
“Jade, some help!” Serai yells. She backs away from the spiders, keeping them a good distance away while she uses her powers to make bright light to daze them.
At last, Dante is free. Jade throws the last of the magic flame at one of the spiders, which screams in pain and backs away in fear.
Dante intones a magic word and sends a tiny screaming skull at one of the spiders. It hits unerringly in a bright, painful flash. The spider leaps onto a web and climbs.
Between Ishii’s fists and Jade’s scimitar, two of the fleeing spiders are killed, but the last climbs high up into a tree and bothers them no more. Jade checks George’s arm and although the bite is painful, he does not find any venom in the wound.
While the others burn away the webbing with torches, Jade examines the dead spiders with a keen interest that unnerves George. George has seen that look before on Dante, when he has found a particularly interesting dead thing. George forgets the webs for the moment and joins the elf.
“Are you planning on becoming a necromancer, too?” George jokes.
He surprises George by smiling. “Aren’t they amazing? Look, here’s where their venom is produced. And on this one, you can clearly see the spinnerets.”
“George! Jade!” The urgency in Serai’s voice makes them forget the gory corpses and they rush to find her. She, Dante and Ishii are not far into the trees, the shrunken, burnt remains of webbing floating in the air. Before them is an area where the webs are thickest and a large white bundle is suspended within them. It is human-sized and looks like a corpse wrapped in a shroud.
“Is it an egg sack?” Ishii asks hopefully.
Jade’s face is grim. He takes a torch from Serai and burns around the gruesome bundle until it falls into the bushes below it. Jade uses a large branch to drag into the clearing and cuts the sticky bonds with a knife. Carefully, he peels back and burns the webbing away to reveal a face.
The face is old, haggard, with a white beard, half-open blue eyes and a slack mouth.
“It’s not Worthen,” Jade tells them and they exhale in relief.
Jade rules a pyre in this forest would be too dangerous, so they find as many stones as they can and build a cairn over the body with great care. Darkness falls while they bury the dead man and now they are tired and filthy. Jade finds a new clearing some distance away from the grave and dead spiders and though Dante chides himself for being careless, he is too tired to check the ground for faerie rings. There is some debate about whether to light a fire, for now that they have stopped moving it is bitterly cold, but Jade is against it and instead arranges them close together so they can share both blankets and body heat. The students hate it: it is cold, uncomfortable and embarrassing, but they are too tired to object. With his cloak wrapped around him, Jade sits a little away from them and keeps watch with the trees.
To make matters worse, Master Lykor refuses to speak of the matter until they are safely within his office. Once the door has been shut and affixed with glyphs (a precaution George finds both alarming and unnecessary), the teacher sighs and permits them to speak.
“Why was Worthen going to Dunbar?” Serai asks.
“It’s a fairly regular trip for him,” the master says, sinking into his armchair. With a casual wave of his hand, he invites the students to sit, but the chairs in here are hard, uncomfortable wooden ones usually meant to seat misbehaving pupils. Only George finds the chairs undaunting.
The master continues, “Dunbar is closest city where we can find unusual ingredients. You should try finding beholder eyelash in the market here sometime, if you don’t believe me.”
George raises his hand timidly, which makes Lykor smile. “We’re not in class now, George. You can ask whatever you like.”
“Sir, why didn’t you just scry on Worthen to find out where he is?”
Lykor’s frowns with something between displeasure and irritation. “Master Barleycorn, do you presume that you know more than the masters at this college?”
George swallows a lump in this throat, then replies with downcast eyes, “No, sir.”
But them master sighs and says in a gentler tone, “We did try, George. But, there are ways around magic of any kind, lad. I suppose to you students magic must seem like the answer to everything, but it isn’t. Sometimes you need to use your head.” He looks at each of them in turn. “We’re not sure what has happened, and that’s why we’re sending you. We trust you to use your heads, to make good decisions and stay safe. Stay together and don’t go looking for trouble. You have seven days; you must come back with or without Worthen in seven days or else. If we must send a master out to find you there will be consequences. Understood?”
The students nod solemnly.
“Excellent. I had the cook make up bundles for you, nothing special, just hardy food for the week. Pack lightly; we’re not supplying you with horse.”
“But,” Dante interjects. “What if Worthen is still in Dunbar? It will take longer than seven days to get there, look for Worthen and get back.”
Lykor smiles. “Ah! At last someone is using his brain! The answer, Dante, is that we’re fairly certain Worthen never made it to Dunbar. I’ve received messages from the merchants Worthen was supposed to visit. They have not seen hide nor hair of him.”
“Which could only mean the Old Forest,” Jade interjects.
“Possibly,” Lykor replies. “This is why I asked you to accompany the students. You know the signs and I’m relying on you to keep the students safe.”
Later, after the door was unsealed and Lykor saw them out, Dante turns on Jade. “Know the signs? What’s that supposed to mean.”
Jade shrugs. “Someone has to keep an eye on you. You’re not as resistant to Fey magic as I am.”
Dante wants to be angry. He scowls and tries to think of a good reason why they do not need Jade to watch over them like babies. But his logic tells him it only makes sense; aside from being an elf, Jade is also a druid, and the nature priests know more of Fey magic than most wizards do. It galls Dante to have his knowledge and abilities questioned, but he cannot argue with the logic. In the end he grits his teeth and says nothing more about it.
The next morning they wake well before sunrise and make small bundles of their blankets to hold the small supplies they plan to take with them: tinderboxes for making fires, whatever vials of magic potions they still have, a few odds and ends that they think might be helpful. Considering their last journey, George includes a new mirror in his pack (just in case) and the mound of shot he spent several hours making the night before. Serai borrowed several maps of the Old Forest from the library and these she stores tightly rolled in a tube of hard leather. Everyone remembers their mittens and scarves, for it is a very cold, crisp morning. Jade wonders aloud whether there could be snow today. And before anyone else is up for breakfast, the students are gone through the gate, and a line of black, leafless trees are before them on the horizon.
At about midday, they find Worthen’s wagon half-concealed by bushes and fallen limbs not far from the main road but a distance that would make it difficult to see; only Jade’s sharp eyes notices the wheels hidden well by the thorny, twisted branches of the brush. Whatever poor beast was drawing the wagon is long gone. Jade can make out some footprints he believes to be Worthen’s though the trail is far from clear. They seem to lead deeper into the Old Forest.
“Before we go on, there is something we should consider. These woods weren’t completely cleared,” Dante says. “That is, there are active gates all over this forest. Anything could come through and we could enter one by accident and not know for some time that we had passed through. Do you still want to continue?”
“Yes!” George replies without hesitation.
Serai considers a moment, then nods once, though cautiously.
Ishii merely smiles.
Dante looks at Jade, who shrugs and says, “I am game if you all are. This is entirely up to you.”
Dante takes a deep breath and says, “Lead on, Jade.”
Once in the forest, the light dims immediately and grows fainter quickly as the afternoon passes. Jade suggests looking for a place to spend the night, while Dante watches the forest floor for faerie rings. That is why he did not see the web until it was too late.
The sticky, silvery strands brush past his face, startling him. Arms flailing in disgust, he reaches out and finds to his horror there are more of the near-invisible strands before him. One arm is ensnared; in panic, he tries to snatch it back and only succeeds in entangling it further. With his other arm he tries to pull away the strands, but they stick to his hand. He is not strong enough to break the web and the more he panics, the more threads he comes into contact with, the more threads stick to him and bind him fast.
“Hold still!” Jade exclaims. In Elvish, he chants a few rhyming lines and a small flame dances in his palm. “I’m going to try to burn these off of you.”
Serai grips George’s shoulder tightly. When he turns to her, he sees that her eyes are wide with fright and that her finger points to a spider the size of a dog. Another is smoothly coming down on a thread of spider silk. In the dying light, the webs are backlit, revealing the dozens of traps strung between the trees all around them. Two more spiders, like dainty tightrope walkers, pick their way down the webs to surround them.
“Jade!” George shouts.
“I know, George!” Jade yells, annoyed. Burning the webs without burning Dante or getting stuck himself requires patience and concentration.
George is glad he thought to load his pistol this morning. He draws it and fires, striking a spider in the abdomen. It lets out shriek, which surprises and terrifies him. Sensing an opening, the spider rushes forward and bites George’s pistol arm with its pinchers.
Ishii punches and kicks another one, crushing its exoskeleton like an egg. Yellowish ichor leaks outs.
“Jade, some help!” Serai yells. She backs away from the spiders, keeping them a good distance away while she uses her powers to make bright light to daze them.
At last, Dante is free. Jade throws the last of the magic flame at one of the spiders, which screams in pain and backs away in fear.
Dante intones a magic word and sends a tiny screaming skull at one of the spiders. It hits unerringly in a bright, painful flash. The spider leaps onto a web and climbs.
Between Ishii’s fists and Jade’s scimitar, two of the fleeing spiders are killed, but the last climbs high up into a tree and bothers them no more. Jade checks George’s arm and although the bite is painful, he does not find any venom in the wound.
While the others burn away the webbing with torches, Jade examines the dead spiders with a keen interest that unnerves George. George has seen that look before on Dante, when he has found a particularly interesting dead thing. George forgets the webs for the moment and joins the elf.
“Are you planning on becoming a necromancer, too?” George jokes.
He surprises George by smiling. “Aren’t they amazing? Look, here’s where their venom is produced. And on this one, you can clearly see the spinnerets.”
“George! Jade!” The urgency in Serai’s voice makes them forget the gory corpses and they rush to find her. She, Dante and Ishii are not far into the trees, the shrunken, burnt remains of webbing floating in the air. Before them is an area where the webs are thickest and a large white bundle is suspended within them. It is human-sized and looks like a corpse wrapped in a shroud.
“Is it an egg sack?” Ishii asks hopefully.
Jade’s face is grim. He takes a torch from Serai and burns around the gruesome bundle until it falls into the bushes below it. Jade uses a large branch to drag into the clearing and cuts the sticky bonds with a knife. Carefully, he peels back and burns the webbing away to reveal a face.
The face is old, haggard, with a white beard, half-open blue eyes and a slack mouth.
“It’s not Worthen,” Jade tells them and they exhale in relief.
Jade rules a pyre in this forest would be too dangerous, so they find as many stones as they can and build a cairn over the body with great care. Darkness falls while they bury the dead man and now they are tired and filthy. Jade finds a new clearing some distance away from the grave and dead spiders and though Dante chides himself for being careless, he is too tired to check the ground for faerie rings. There is some debate about whether to light a fire, for now that they have stopped moving it is bitterly cold, but Jade is against it and instead arranges them close together so they can share both blankets and body heat. The students hate it: it is cold, uncomfortable and embarrassing, but they are too tired to object. With his cloak wrapped around him, Jade sits a little away from them and keeps watch with the trees.
