Into the Woods

[mips42]

Dealing with the cult and it’s leader in the village of Ravens End hadn’t been easy and, in the end, even though you rooted out the source of the cult, which turned out to be the towns’ mayor, and dealt him the justice he’d deserved, The townspeople has treated you coldly.
It was understandable, of course. It’s not every day that a group of adventurers turns everything you thought you knew on it’s head, burned down a church (quite by accident, of course), showed the towns’ mayor to be a deranged cult leader and then ransacked his house. No those are the strange days. So it was understandable that the townspeople looked at you with something between awe, suspicion and dread. But they didn’t stand in your way when you left, either.

So, back on the road, the group trudges the hard-packed road to Eddington where, hopefully, you can spend some of your hard-earned gold, maybe rest or even have a bath.

The day is cool signaling that, while still a ways away, winter is soon approaching. The sky is mostly a clear, pale blue with only occasional clouds. The hard-packed dirt road leads you over a hill where you see a small sign reading “Welcome to Knotwood”. The buildings appear to be simple, most with field stone or wood walls and primarily thatched roofs. The birdsong is pleasant and, in the distance, you can make out the sounds of livestock. Smoke lazily drifts from a few chimneys as you enter town and almost immediately hear a low voice call to you

“Hey! You, there. You’ve the look of adventurers.”

You turn to see a small human man, barely five feet tall with a tangle of black hair, a torn and stained robe, and simple shoes on the mans’ feet. He is standing in front of what can only be described as a shack. Its walls are weathered and rampant with moss and ivy. The lawn, if you can call it that, is also unkempt with weeds, moss and brambles in view and the roof looks suspect, at best. However, there is the pleasant aroma of fresh bread on the air.

“If that’s true, I could use your help. My name is Mertrand Owlkeep by the way. I’m the local wizard. Sure, not to your level but I get by. Anyhow, my apprentice has gone missing. I sent him out to get some ingredients in the forest three days ago and he hasn’t come back.
“The locals here hold that the forest is haunted, but no one’s ever proven it. Although, last summer, Sadie Thistle went in and never did come out, so who knows. What do you say?”

OOC: As Requested OOC [5e] "Into The Woods" Horror one-shot. [FULL][OOC] RG [5e] Into the Woods {RG} IC Into the Woods

 

[jmucchiello]

"Apprentices always seem to be getting lost, I think," Terry said. "I mean you tell them to mop the floor and the next thing you know there's like a hundred mops dancing around or something like that. Not that I know much about wizard's apprentices. Maybe they're different." The man was looking at Terry in that why people seemed to look at her often. She always assumed it was a look of approval and admiration but she knew it probably was not. But that did not bother her because her first thought was that it was approval and that was good enough. "Oh, what's your apprentice's name? We don't want to find someone else lost in the wood and come back thinking we're done and find out we found the wrong person. They probably wouldn't want to be put back in the woods, though I suppose, we could put them back if we had to. Wouldn't want to be responsible for displacing people needlessly. Not that I'm aware of when doing so is needed. Maybe after a disaster. Like the church burns down and you have to move the priest somewhere else temporarily." There was that look again. At times like this, Terry found it best just to smile.

 

[Skarsgard]

The little girl with the long dark hair stood with her adult companions, looking like a lost waif rather than the seasoned adventurer she was. The past year had taught her much and the acceptance of these adults as one of them almost warmed her heart, almost.

Strange how life works out, she held Brooke by one hand, the doll dangling with its legs just off the dusty road as Terry spoke.

Angelique looked sideways at Terry the way she often did, wide unblinking eyes; well she did blink last week. She slowly transferred her gaze to Brooke, head tilted on a slight angle, as if she is listening to something. Her lips pull tight as she nods.

“Yes, I think she is,” she whispers to her doll. Slowly, she rotates her body, so as not to turn her head, to face the wizard. “I like to play hide and go seek.” she whispers.

She takes a breath and it is uncertain if it was in a need to breathe or merely to push air over the vocal chords. But it now seemed like she hadn’t taken one for a while, or is that just the mind playing tricks?

“Losing an apprentice for a day may be seen as misfortune but for three days, well that smacks of some form of incompetence.”

She sighs, a heavy despairing sigh. “Do you have anything of his? A trinket or token? Something he would recognise.”

Cocking her head to the side again she shrugs. “Ok, I’ll ask. Brooke wants to know if there is a reward?”

 

[jmucchiello]

"Oh, yeah, Brooke is so smart," Terry says. "She always asks the insightful questions. Such a doll. Is there a reward for finding your apprentice, Mr. Owlkeep? What if we find out he just decided to leave you? People do that, don't they? Just decide they can't go on being an apprentice. They think they know it all and strike out on their own. We won't bring him back against his will, you see."

 

[tglassy]

Andar stood behind the others. He was trained to lead, but always felt better at people's backs, where he could watch out for them.

And keep an eye on them.

He kept silent, letting his companions do the talking. He usually didn't say much. He didn't know if his looming presence in his armor and decorated helm was a comfort or if it made his companions uneasy, but he had never done anything to harm any of them, and indeed had saved, and been saved, by them on at least one occasion each.

The whispers echoing in his helm were an ever present distraction. It had taken him a while to understand they were the random thoughts of those around him. He didn't have to listen to them, and when he was otherwise focused, they were little more than an ever present buzz. However, he picked out one of the voices, the one belonging to Mr. Owlkeep, to see what he was thinking at that moment. He didn't focus enough to be noticeable, just to hear whatever was on the surface of his mind.

OOC: Using an action to cast Detect Thoughts through the helm. This is going to be a regular occurrence for him. Just looking to see if the man's being truthful as he talks about his Apprentice.

 

[JustinCase]

Bimpnott towers over the others. The firbolg is dressed in his old watchman uniform with a sturdy cloak over it, the shortsword on his belt appearing more like a dagger on the giantkin.

He listens to the conversation between his companions and the wizard, although he doesn’t follow everything. Bimpnott knows that the wizard must feel bad, however, and his time with the Fortnam watch has taught him how to deal with that.

”Don’t worry sir,” his deep voice sounds warm and reassuring, ”We will find the boy. Or girl.”

Then he smiles contently.

 

[jmucchiello]

"Yes, we did not ask if the apprentice were a boy or girl or even human," Terry prattles on. "No reason why he or she could not be an elf or a dwarf or a gnome or, um, ... what are those other short ones? It's right on the tip of my tongue. That's a funny saying, isn't it? I mean if you look at my tongue -- " she sticks it out "-- there's not writing on it. Right? So why would you say something is there." Once again encountering the stare, she pauses and says, "Can you describe your apprentice?"

 

[mips42]

Apprentices always seem to be getting lost, I think," Terry said. "I mean you tell them to mop the floor and the next thing you know there's like a hundred mops dancing around or something like that. Not that I know much about wizard's apprentices. Maybe they're different. Oh, what's your apprentice's name? We don't want to find someone else lost in the wood and come back thinking we're done and find out we found the wrong person. They probably wouldn't want to be put back in the woods, though I suppose, we could put them back if we had to. Wouldn't want to be responsible for displacing people needlessly. Not that I'm aware of when doing so is needed. Maybe after a disaster. Like the church burns down and you have to move the priest somewhere else temporarily.

oh, sure. That makes sense I guess. His name is Bertram. He's sisxteen with a mop of sandy brown hair.

Losing an apprentice for a day may be seen as misfortune but for three days, well that smacks of some form of incompetence. Do you have anything of his? A trinket or token? Something he would recognise."
Cocking her head to the side again she shrugs. “Ok, I’ll ask. Brooke wants to know if there is a reward?"

Missing is somewhat different from lost, I should think. Something of his? Hmmm... I think I might have a shoe that he left here one time. A reward? My... dear girl. These people are primarily farmers. If you could shake loose every coin in the village into a bucket and then sold everything in town but the people and the houses, you might end up with 20 gold on a good day. About all I can offer is some good smoked meat and a jug of my home-brew."

”Don’t worry sir, We will find the boy.”

Spoiler: Andar

The buzzing in your head, while somewhat familiar, can be distracting and, as they are talking to Mertram, it takes a moment to tune out your companions leaving... Silence.
Blinking in slight confusion, you refocus. Tuning, one-by-one on your companions. Yes, that's Albrecht. And Angelique. Bimpnott... and, of course, Terry. All are redable, although, out of respect, you don't spend more than the breifest momnets on them. But when, again, you try Mertram, there is nothing.
Either he has some sophisticated block (which seems unlikely, given the circumstances), or... Something odd is going on.

 

[tglassy]

Andar frowns. He shifts his focus to the others, one by one, using the Helm's power to send a thought to each. They'd done this a few times, so it should come as no surprise to hear his subtle voice in their heads. He would never snoop beyond what propriety would allow, but the advantages of such communication are too great to pass up.

In each of their thoughts, he merely says, "I cannot hear this man's thoughts." He waits a moment for a reply, before moving to the next member of their party.

 

[JustinCase]

”That’s alright, neither can I,” Bimpnott replies out loud. The firbolg continues to smile at the wizard that is seeking their aid.

”No money,” he wonders, then seems to reach a critical point.

”Can we try the home-brew first?”