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NOW LIVE! Into the Woods--new character species, eerie monsters, and haunting villains to populate the woodlands of your D&D games.
Domhani Bairdéir 01
- Thread starter Maidhc O Casain
- Start date
Maidhc O Casain
Na Bith Mo Riocht Tá!
A Dark and Stormy Night
For Deasaigh Only:
[sblock]Eadon doesn't seem to be hiding anything -- he truly comes across as a person with a high opinion of his own abilities, and as far as Deasaigh can determine is telling the truth as he sees it in regards to his employment.[/sblock]
OOC: Check out my OOC post for more on Sense Motive.
For Deasaigh Only:
[sblock]Eadon doesn't seem to be hiding anything -- he truly comes across as a person with a high opinion of his own abilities, and as far as Deasaigh can determine is telling the truth as he sees it in regards to his employment.[/sblock]
OOC: Check out my OOC post for more on Sense Motive.
Maidhc O Casain
Na Bith Mo Riocht Tá!
A Dark and Stormy Night
"The Stills tell me that there have been no blossoms nor fruit on the trees for years. This part of the country used to be famous for it's apple brandy, but the trees have been barren for decades now. It's truly odd, because they look healthy, and continue to grow -- they just don't ever bloom or bear fruit! When I finish my current treatise on the effects of the lunar cycle on the song of nocturnal avians, I may have to come back and investigate this. Have I told you about my current research . . . ?"
With that, Marten launches into an animated discourse on his current favorite research topic, which he's traveling to the library in Tearmann to collect information on.
Also about this time, Kurdy Deel (the tinker) announces loudly that he's too old to enjoy staying up late anymore, and will be off to his bed as well.
"The Stills tell me that there have been no blossoms nor fruit on the trees for years. This part of the country used to be famous for it's apple brandy, but the trees have been barren for decades now. It's truly odd, because they look healthy, and continue to grow -- they just don't ever bloom or bear fruit! When I finish my current treatise on the effects of the lunar cycle on the song of nocturnal avians, I may have to come back and investigate this. Have I told you about my current research . . . ?"
With that, Marten launches into an animated discourse on his current favorite research topic, which he's traveling to the library in Tearmann to collect information on.
Also about this time, Kurdy Deel (the tinker) announces loudly that he's too old to enjoy staying up late anymore, and will be off to his bed as well.
Athelstan wonders
Pushing his drink aside, Athelstan looks closely at his friend with some concern.
"Too much for my parents to handle"? What's that about? This is the second time he's mentioned his parents in a downcast light. The first was just up the road apeice. Yet... what could it be? I'll have to ask him about this later.
Pushing his drink aside, Athelstan looks closely at his friend with some concern.
"Too much for my parents to handle"? What's that about? This is the second time he's mentioned his parents in a downcast light. The first was just up the road apeice. Yet... what could it be? I'll have to ask him about this later.
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Athelstan asks
While I'd much rather stick quietly to these shadows, if I don't say something soon the others will begin to grow suspicious. Best to say something now and avoid some kind of "unmasking" later on, if at all possible. And besides... that's peculiar about those trees. A fresh apple sound nice right now...
Drawing himeslf out of his reverie over fresh fruit, Athelstan addresses Eadon with a question:
While I hate to double back on the conversation... and while your explanation of your current research thrills my wits to no end... I wonder if I could speak more to you of the trees.
Thinking back to his life in the foliage of his old home, Athelstan quickly becomes curious as to these barren trees outside the window and a few yards away.
What do you think could've caused this? It's certainly... strange.
I wonder if that Fae might have anything to do with this...
While I'd much rather stick quietly to these shadows, if I don't say something soon the others will begin to grow suspicious. Best to say something now and avoid some kind of "unmasking" later on, if at all possible. And besides... that's peculiar about those trees. A fresh apple sound nice right now...
Drawing himeslf out of his reverie over fresh fruit, Athelstan addresses Eadon with a question:
While I hate to double back on the conversation... and while your explanation of your current research thrills my wits to no end... I wonder if I could speak more to you of the trees.
Thinking back to his life in the foliage of his old home, Athelstan quickly becomes curious as to these barren trees outside the window and a few yards away.
What do you think could've caused this? It's certainly... strange.
I wonder if that Fae might have anything to do with this...
Maidhc O Casain
Na Bith Mo Riocht Tá!
A Dark and Stormy Night
Marten replies: "I'm not sure exactly what might have caused the trees to go barren -- it's not an area I've specialized in. Disease seems unlikely, as the trees appear to be otherwise healthy."
The old priest chimes in: "It could be a curse of the gods, a punishment for some transgression committed by the townspeople all those years ago. All anyone knows for sure is that this used to be a prosperous place, attracted traders and travellers from miles around (even from other provinces) for the apples. And the brandy . . . ! If some enterprising soul were to find a stash of the old Wickshine brandy I'd . . . er . . . some folks would pay a pretty penny for even a small jar!"
Marten replies: "I'm not sure exactly what might have caused the trees to go barren -- it's not an area I've specialized in. Disease seems unlikely, as the trees appear to be otherwise healthy."
The old priest chimes in: "It could be a curse of the gods, a punishment for some transgression committed by the townspeople all those years ago. All anyone knows for sure is that this used to be a prosperous place, attracted traders and travellers from miles around (even from other provinces) for the apples. And the brandy . . . ! If some enterprising soul were to find a stash of the old Wickshine brandy I'd . . . er . . . some folks would pay a pretty penny for even a small jar!"
Athelstan questions
That brandy does sound nice... especially on a trecherous night like tonight. About how long ago would you estimate it was before the trees began to stop producing fruit? Has anything... unfortunate... happend around here that would give some reason for a "curse"?
That brandy does sound nice... especially on a trecherous night like tonight. About how long ago would you estimate it was before the trees began to stop producing fruit? Has anything... unfortunate... happend around here that would give some reason for a "curse"?
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Athelstan creeps himself out
Listening to the storm outside, accompanied by the spirts ingested thus far, Athelstan starts to wonder what might be lurking outside in the storm. Images of dark, twisted woods or deep cracks in the ground leading to moss-slicked, damp caves of fetid smells and even more horrible sounds fill his mind. He shivers, though in truth he finds himself a little warm in his cloak and will be glad to get rid of it for the evening in his quarters.
Caverns yawning like monsterous teeth in the ground... just the perfect place for someone or something to hide you away... until they decide to come back and do who knows what to you. Someone with decidely different morals... someone like that Fae over there. Or something worse... some dark wizard capable of sending bone walkers or ghouls into my room at night to spirit me away for dark experimentations. Or death, outright. Carnage just for the sake of carnage... dished out by some bloodthirsty creature or spirit. A malicous spook... a frightening entity that can freeze a man to the ground with a horrifying gaze.
Athelstan swallows and decides it's right about now that he should quit with the ale for the evening. Obviously between it, the lightening, and the supernatural sitting across the table from him in the form of a little, gray man... he's starting to get unsettled.
Listening to the storm outside, accompanied by the spirts ingested thus far, Athelstan starts to wonder what might be lurking outside in the storm. Images of dark, twisted woods or deep cracks in the ground leading to moss-slicked, damp caves of fetid smells and even more horrible sounds fill his mind. He shivers, though in truth he finds himself a little warm in his cloak and will be glad to get rid of it for the evening in his quarters.
Caverns yawning like monsterous teeth in the ground... just the perfect place for someone or something to hide you away... until they decide to come back and do who knows what to you. Someone with decidely different morals... someone like that Fae over there. Or something worse... some dark wizard capable of sending bone walkers or ghouls into my room at night to spirit me away for dark experimentations. Or death, outright. Carnage just for the sake of carnage... dished out by some bloodthirsty creature or spirit. A malicous spook... a frightening entity that can freeze a man to the ground with a horrifying gaze.
Athelstan swallows and decides it's right about now that he should quit with the ale for the evening. Obviously between it, the lightening, and the supernatural sitting across the table from him in the form of a little, gray man... he's starting to get unsettled.
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Maidhc O Casain
Na Bith Mo Riocht Tá!
A Dark and Stormy Night
Abel Still is walking by as Athelstan asks about the trees. "It was in my grandfathers time the trees stopped producing. And I wouldn't pay much attention to the speculations of old Josiah - as far as anyone knows, this was a town as normal as any other. Pretty much everyone moved out after the trees went barren. Without the income from the apples and the brandy, folks knew they couldn't make a living. My family stayed on to run the Inn. It's at a nice crossroads and we get a lot of travellers through."
Abel Still is walking by as Athelstan asks about the trees. "It was in my grandfathers time the trees stopped producing. And I wouldn't pay much attention to the speculations of old Josiah - as far as anyone knows, this was a town as normal as any other. Pretty much everyone moved out after the trees went barren. Without the income from the apples and the brandy, folks knew they couldn't make a living. My family stayed on to run the Inn. It's at a nice crossroads and we get a lot of travellers through."
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