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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.
Remnants of the Horde-Flight from Aruth
- Thread starter Uriel
- Start date
Capellan
Explorer
Wekerak consoles Frostbite - and himself - by tearing strips off the haunch of centaur, alternattely feeding the red strands of flesh to the wolf, and to himself. As he does so, he idly searches through the belongings he looted from the corpses of the horse men, to see what he's recovered.
When the path appears and Midnight Fang delivers her little lecture, the goblin sickers,
"After you, half-elf." he grins, teeth reddened with blood.
When the path appears and Midnight Fang delivers her little lecture, the goblin sickers,
"After you, half-elf." he grins, teeth reddened with blood.
Velenne
Explorer
Durgo looks at the parting vines and hurrumphs. Mojo... he thinks ominously. Shay-men or wizards, these hags were. He had heard some things about them, but the others obviously knew much more. He supposed if he had to deal one of them to the hags, he would do so if it meant passage through the swamps. Probably the stupid goblin wizard and his undead friends.
The ogre strides toward the Path. The telltale lumbering of his heritage is gone, replaced by the proud gait of a soldier with a purpose.
The ogre strides toward the Path. The telltale lumbering of his heritage is gone, replaced by the proud gait of a soldier with a purpose.
Uriel
Living EN World Judge
Slogging through the mire that is this Hell-Hole, the Band gives rise to a whole new generation of mites,leeches and ticks, so freat is their contribution of blood.
It sems that the mucky Path goes on forever, the sound of distant Elvish insults replaced by the *Shlooop* *Shlooop* of boots pulling themselves up from muddy ground, as well as bargo's muttering and the occassionaly bicker or snide comment from Midnight Fang Valrack and Wekerak.
Hours pass, and dawn comes, though a sickly overcast sun it is that shines down balefully upon you.
'First thing that has gone right all week' says Valrack smugly as the hated Sun fights to cut through the haze.
One thing that had been absent in the night is the oppressive heat, the temperature soaring ( along with the insect assaults).
Then, abruptly, Midnight Fang stops, signaling the others to do so as well.
Before you, in a small clearing is a Cottage. Situated upon a
semi-dry hummock, a vine-covered stone house some 15' tall sits like a spider in the center of it's web...which may be closer to the truth, seeing as the Hags have such a pleasant reputation.
No animals are visible, nor is the occupant of the House.
The air is cut by the *Heerummph* of Bullfrogs and the neverending bite of insects.
It sems that the mucky Path goes on forever, the sound of distant Elvish insults replaced by the *Shlooop* *Shlooop* of boots pulling themselves up from muddy ground, as well as bargo's muttering and the occassionaly bicker or snide comment from Midnight Fang Valrack and Wekerak.
Hours pass, and dawn comes, though a sickly overcast sun it is that shines down balefully upon you.
'First thing that has gone right all week' says Valrack smugly as the hated Sun fights to cut through the haze.
One thing that had been absent in the night is the oppressive heat, the temperature soaring ( along with the insect assaults).
Then, abruptly, Midnight Fang stops, signaling the others to do so as well.
Before you, in a small clearing is a Cottage. Situated upon a
semi-dry hummock, a vine-covered stone house some 15' tall sits like a spider in the center of it's web...which may be closer to the truth, seeing as the Hags have such a pleasant reputation.
No animals are visible, nor is the occupant of the House.
The air is cut by the *Heerummph* of Bullfrogs and the neverending bite of insects.
Orochi
First Post
Kurg raises his muzzle, the area seeming ripe with magic that he could almost smell over the fetid muck of the swamp. He muttered a swift prayer for clarity, asking his demon-god to reveal what there was of magic in the area, and its strength, that he might better know the situation.
OOC: Detect Magic, hanging back until the full four rounds have passed and I gather all available info.
OOC: Detect Magic, hanging back until the full four rounds have passed and I gather all available info.
Uriel
Living EN World Judge
While the others await some sign of habitation, Wekerak swaggers up to the front door, knocking and waits.
And waits...and waits...
After what seems like an hour, massive footfalls resound from within the Cottage and stop on the other side of the Door.
A heated argument seems to be transpiring behind the door, though one of those involved suddenly yells and the other is silent.
The door to the cottage creaks open and an immensely wide form becomes visibe, one that dwarfs Wekerak like a Gnat.
Before the Goblin stands the biggest troll that he had ever seen (and he has seen more than a few trolls). Almost 12 feet tall, as wide as Bargo and...he has two heads.
The Troll is dressed in tattered finery, brocaded vest and pants, though these seem far too small for him, and they have seen better days (better years, frankly), caked as they are in mud,filth and blood. Looking down to peer at Wekerak, the left head licks his lips and grins in a most unsavory manner. Suddenly, the right
hand shoots up and pokes out the Left Heads eyes. Immense screaming and gnasking of teeth ensues, but the left head goes quiet, whimpering in obescience, even as it's eyes begin to regenerate. The Right head addresses Wekerak in broken Goblin
'Guests? Be ye Guests? I smell yer friends yonder. Tell 'em they's welcome, but ta hurry, as the Madam does'n like ta door Open fer more'n a Moment.'
The Troll then steps back inside, awaiting a response.
Wekerak clearly sees that the inside of the Cottage looks more like a Mansion, powerful Mojo indeed.
And waits...and waits...
After what seems like an hour, massive footfalls resound from within the Cottage and stop on the other side of the Door.
A heated argument seems to be transpiring behind the door, though one of those involved suddenly yells and the other is silent.
The door to the cottage creaks open and an immensely wide form becomes visibe, one that dwarfs Wekerak like a Gnat.
Before the Goblin stands the biggest troll that he had ever seen (and he has seen more than a few trolls). Almost 12 feet tall, as wide as Bargo and...he has two heads.
The Troll is dressed in tattered finery, brocaded vest and pants, though these seem far too small for him, and they have seen better days (better years, frankly), caked as they are in mud,filth and blood. Looking down to peer at Wekerak, the left head licks his lips and grins in a most unsavory manner. Suddenly, the right
hand shoots up and pokes out the Left Heads eyes. Immense screaming and gnasking of teeth ensues, but the left head goes quiet, whimpering in obescience, even as it's eyes begin to regenerate. The Right head addresses Wekerak in broken Goblin
'Guests? Be ye Guests? I smell yer friends yonder. Tell 'em they's welcome, but ta hurry, as the Madam does'n like ta door Open fer more'n a Moment.'
The Troll then steps back inside, awaiting a response.
Wekerak clearly sees that the inside of the Cottage looks more like a Mansion, powerful Mojo indeed.
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