Dongle the Dungeoneeror--CLOSED--Adventure #52

[Gray Shade]

Setting off on the Journey . . . and a quick journey it is.

As usual, he did not have to wait long. I came into the room, adorned with treasures if not of immense value, of unique flavor, carrying a silver platter with a decanter of hot Jasmine and Vanilla tea. I poured him a cup, then retrieved Bessie from the un-burned end of a length of silk rope which he had been practicing with a few nights earlier, when in a particularly depressed mood about the lack of delving activity.

In any case, I also brought in the maps that a boy had brought from the rat-man of Delve #52. I helped Dongle clear his table, and then set the maps and notes out for him to exam. As he got started, I retrieved relevant atlases and charts from the master's private reserve of maps (of which he'd managed to collect quite a few, and of which I was the curator). I brought his maps first so that he could compare them and secondly, so that I could begin copying any information in the rat-man's maps that were not already contained in his collection. This small thievery was never mentioned by Dongle or I, as we both understood it to be a simple matter of future self-preservation and not a matter of material gain.

Once he'd gone over the maps, we collected the ones that would be relevant and with a bow, I took them to my cartography chamber to copy and prepare.

Two hours later, while Dongle ate a nice, hot lunch of lamb shanks and wheat bread with honey, I worked with Roddy preparing our horses and gear. While the master went to change to his travel clothing, Chef Cauliwonkle Copperpot snuck me a quick lunch. I savored every bite, as I'm sure so did the master, as it would be our last meal served with finery for at least a week, we knew.

About the time the sun hit its zenith we left the house. It was not the best time of day to start a journey, but if we were to meet with the Grig and get what information he had, we had no choice but to leave as soon as we could. We rode fine, healthy, strong, lean horses, but riding horses. The master did not bother to train on the use of warhorses, and of course, neither did I. Dongle always claimed that to have trained would have simply taken up too much space in his head better spent on skills he would use, and that when he started finding dungeons designed for horsemen, he would consider changing his attitude.

The rest of that day passed without note, as did the second day. When we stopped to camp on the second night, we could make out the thick black brush line of the Twisted Forest, and the small, smooth blob of Black Keep about another four hours away by the moonlight.


* * *

OOC: Is there anything Dongle wants to do before the journey or during the rest of the first day or all of the second. Also, I assume you don't want to ride extra late just to get up next to the forest and keep before nightfall, when, instead you can get up early, and meet the Grig right on time. Oh, and I will be providing relevant maps . . . well, when relevant (look for them Friday night when I have the time to sketch them up and scan them).

 

[Lazlow]

"No need to push on any further tonight," Dongle said as he drew rein. "Let's make a comfortable camp here. An early morning should have us meeting the grig right on time."

With that, we made camp, had a light supper of the most perishable items in our stock, and, over a customary glass of excellent pre-delve wine, whiled away a goodly bit of the firelight reminiscing of delves past. A few hours later we arose, before the sun had yet broken past the horizon, and after breaking camp, we breakfasted in the saddle on dried fruit and bread.

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OOC: They've made all the necessary preparations, so they'll just press on as you suggest.

 

[Gray Shade]

The Twisted Forest

Camping within view of the Twisted Forest, it should be noted, is a most disagreeable thing to the digestion of one's dinner and the calming of one's nerves. I believe that if not for the quality wine and company, both the Master and I would have been quite upset by the proximity of what has been called "The Undead Woodland," and, as astounding as it sounds, could have had trouble sleeping. Not that we had any trouble, mind you--no, no, nothing threatened us, and, in fact, no noise whatsoever issued from the black trees all night.

In fact, by the next morning, as we rode closer, the absence of sound became even more obvious, and if not for the sun shining warmly on our shoulders I don't think either of us would have willingly went any closer than a catapult's throw from the place. However, with the sunlight at our backs, we rode in close to the forest, the dew on black leaves making an eerie speckled glow about the tall line of trees. The forest began abruptly, in sudden contrast to the rolling hills all around us, which were bare of any sort of growth other than knee-high weeds and prairie grass.

As we rode, I kept a keen eye, glancing back and forth between the sun and the Black Keep. Finally, I said, "This is it, sir. We're directly southwest of the Keep. If the fey is to meet us, it will be here."

Being that Grigs are only about 2 feet tall, on average, and we had thus far been riding parallel to the line of trees still a couple hundred feet out, Dongle nodded and steered his horse in closer to the forest so that we would be able to see the small creature if he were there. The breeze we had been enjoying most of the trip here died away and the air became as still as the sounds.

As we got closer, we could see the trees more clearly as individual entities instead of as part of a mass. They were quite unlike most trees, which tend to reach branches as straight as possible toward the life-giving sun. These trees, indeed, were twisted. Their branches inter-twined and curled through each other. Most also showed roots which wrapped and knotted in similar fashion as the branches. It was as if the plants here paid no mind to the sun. The bark of the trees varied from one kind to another, as there did seem to be quite a range of oaks, maples, birches, ashes, and so on, but all of them had darker coatings than their usual cousins. Their bark was not black but did seem to pull in light so that their shadows were long, even on the side of the forest here that faced the rising sun. The leaves of all the plants, regardless of type, were all black. But once up to the forest, it must be noted, the black of the leaves was a vibrant, shiny ebon, slick and cold . . . very beautiful in its way.

* * *

OOC: any actions to take? It is rather difficult to see very far into the forest.

 

[Lazlow]

Dongle dismounted and walked alongside the edge of the forest for a few yards, regarding the twisted expanse of black foliage. "Interesting... What do you make of it, Brabinger? Most unnatural, it seems, yet the trees and plants seem to thrive well enough."

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OOC: None for now, we'll just wait for the rendez-vous with the fairy fellow.

 

[Gray Shade]

Close to the forest

Not for any voluntary rudeness, but I did not answer my master's question. I heard it clear enough, and, in fact, formed an answer on my tongue, but my tongue simply wouldn't move. It felt . . . well, too lazy. I could also feel my shoulders grow lazy and slack down on either side of my neck, and my back too went soft and I hunched forward in my saddle. The last thing I saw before hunching forward was my horse taking us both on a straight path for the dark foliage of the Twisted Forest.

As I was to find out later, Dongle's horse had been afflicted with the same curse as myself and my horse. His horse, despite his hold on its reigns, kept walking toward the forest.

* * *

OOC: You're about 15 feet out from the forest, and your horse is moving in a diagonal line toward what may be a path between some trees and bushes. Brabinger's horse is about 25 feet away, with Brabinger slumped in the saddle. His horse seems to be going toward the same path as your horse. The black of the leaves move just a bit as if in a slight breeze and cause you to stop and stare for a moment, before regaining your senses. The horses are moving at a very slow walk and you easily have time to react before they enter the path. See following for illustration:

 

[Lazlow]

"What is this, now?" Dongle muttered to himself as he saw Brabinger hunched over on his mount. Flipping his visor down and settling the clockwork apparatus of Penfold's Precisionating Perceptivator into place, he turned a knob on it that swung a matched pair of lenses down in front of his eyes, allowing him a clearer view of his surroundings. Looking around for any signs of who might be the source of this enchantery, he called out, "Grig, if this is your doing, we're not getting off on the right foot." He grabbed the reins of both horses, trying to slow them.

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OOC: +5 to Spot with the glasses (+15 total).

 

[Gray Shade]

The Lowdown

With the wide-angle lenses of Penfold's Precisionating Perceptivator in place, the shifting of the leaves of the forest seemed to slow and the space between then enlargen so that the master became able to spot a figure just the other side of some branches and bushes, only about six feet back into the forest. A figure who, under any other circumstances would have been easily seen, but who was camoflagued with black leaves either attached to, or painted on, its flesh.

The figure was human-sized, and giggled the squeakish laugh of a young girl having fun at the expense of a stray cat.

Grabbing the reigns of both horses, Dongle slowed the horses, but they kept pulling. In order to stop them, he would need to put his strength as well as concentration into it.

 

[Lazlow]

Ah, a trickster in the trees, Dongle mused as he continued to pull on the horses' reins. Thinking quickly, he positioned himself so as to interpose his horse between the mysterious giggler and himself, all the while continuing to show a "struggle" with the beast. He went on in this manner until he judged he was as close to the giggler as he dared - and at that moment, he dove underneath the horse, tumbling the remaining distance between him and his amused antagonist, coming up directly in front of him, whereupon he grabbed the trickster by the scruff of his shirtfront and stated in no uncertain terms: "What's all this, then?"

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OOC: If necessary, Bluff +0, and Tumble +7. Grapple check against giggler. (Grapple +11)

 

[Gray Shade]

The Giggler in the Forest

His bluff worked well enough. The giggling stopped at the last second, as if the forest person had realized the ruse, but Dongle's reflexes were honed by dodging fireballs, and he easily leapt under his horse, and, in a roll, barrelled through the foliage, and sprung to his feet, his hands mid-grab at a shirt when he realized he stood directly in front of the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen who was not, inconvieniently for him, wearing a shirt. In fact, with the exception of what appeared to be freshly painted black leaves roaming over her body, she was completely nude. His hands froze--mid-air eagle claws with nothing to grasp. Finally, they grasped at her long, jet black hair. With a giggle and smile that almost stopped his hands she turned to run but his hands were quick, and more importantly in this instance, his will was strong, and he got hold of her hair.

As soon as he did, though, he found that he could not grasp it. His hands were paralyzed as soon as they touched her beauty, and her hair, soft as morning dew on a violet's leaves, slid through his fingers.

Although stunned momentarily, he recovered himself quickly. She'd barely had time to gracefully leap over a fallen tree and skip past a couple of roots before he again took action.

* * *

OOC: Once you enter the Twisted Forest, it is very difficult to see (very dark). You can see back out, but it is like looking through twice as much foliage as there really is. Looking into the forest is even more difficult, and the only reason you haven't lost the woman already is your googles. You can make her out, more by her movement that a definite shape, about fifteen feet away.

 

[Lazlow]

"Ah, but you won't have me that easily, succubus!" Dongle shouted, even as he thought, Ye gods, what staggering beauty! Fighting every fiber of his being, he resisted the urge to run after the enchantress and, more importantly, lose himself in the accursed forest. He carefully made his way back to my slumbering person and tried to wake me from my magical slumber.

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OOC: Gonna try to wake him up, and if that doesn't work, I'll pull him down off the horse, and try and get as much gear off of them as I can. I don't think there's much, though, as most of it should be in the backpack of holding and Dongle's handy haversack.