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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Paka" data-source="post: 5700682" data-attributes="member: 100">Chapter III: 11th of Eleint, Year of the Prince, 1357, Dale ReckoningGMThe Cormanthor is an ancient forest. It has seen dragons rule the continent and watched them become shadows of their former selves, hoarding in their lairs. The Cormanthor’s roots reach into the Underdark’s spite and its leaves have kept shade and shelter over elven grief.Laelin leads you through the Cormanthor for a few days. He digs up delicious tubers and takes no chances with fires at night. Keeping watch between the two of you is exhausting work.As you get closer to the spring, the oppressive, haunted pressure of the Cormanthyr increases. Laelin seems oblivious but the horses are skittish. "I reckon its the 14th by now. We’ll be coming up on the spring soon. It has a reputation for clear, cold, cursed waters. I should lead us in; Shasslan sent me because I can find my way in wild places, keep us fed and keep us from being noticed. The spring is a series of small waterfalls that feed a pool. There is an old fortified fallen tower, sealed up since the Fall. In the middle of the pool is a broken stone that gnolls and other unsavory folk use for fell rituals. There is a cliff face rising above it to the east with a nice wooded glade.“I reckon that is our cover where we can keep an eye out and if there’s trouble below, we can see it and be gone in short order…I hope.“Sound right, Chronicler?”If his play is adequate, Inconspicuous is being unseen in a crowd, so, its not usable in this instance. I don’t see anything you could use to help him with his Stealth roll, so I’m just going to make the roll and add +1 to his ob because he has to cover for you.PlayerI eye the area and accept Laelin’s word. The more time I spend in the forest, the more I realize that all my travels and travails, as much as they taught and shaped me, left me woefully underprepared to deal with the neccessities of wilderness adventuring. Give me a crowded street in a bustling city; give me a rowdy taproom with drunken mercenaries; give me a foppish noble with a dull blade – these I know, these I can handle. Dark trees in a demon-infested forest? Well… one never stops learning.Beginner’s Luck Stealthy Test (Speed): B3 = 6,1,4 – 2 successes.I follow Laelin to the wooded glade overlooking <a href="http://www.obsidianportal.com/campaign/the-song-of-hal-whitewyrm/wikis/drowned-hope" target="_blank">Drowned Hope</a>. We tie and hide our horses a short distance away and skulk into the glade, hoping to any deity, woodland spirit and benevolent force that the path we picked, the steps we took, and the hiding spot we chose as we moved in will give us the cover we need to perform our mission.GMAnother day goes by before the orc ride into the glade. It is a trio, eaching riding a giant wolf with matted fur and black teeth. They do not notice either of you. The wolves begin lapping up water and the smallest of the orc stakes out tar-soaked heads around the glade, a warning and an announcement of their arrival and encampment. They unfurl a banner that you instantly recognize, these are <a href="http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/FR_ART/People/ObouldManyArrows.jpg" target="_blank">King Obould</a> ’s riders, from the Citadel of Many Arrows, a captured dwarven keep now held by the self-proclaimed orc king.The leader of this pack or wolfriders has an elven longsword across his back, a fine blade, like the kind a swordswinger might wear.They speak the Black Tongue among themselves, wolves included, without a word of the common tongue spoken until they take bundle off from the back of their leader’s saddle. They unwrap a gagged and bound elf boy and warn him with teeth and claws before they remove the rope gag.“No singing, elf. Drink.”The leader dunks the elf’s head into the glade, part drowning, part drinking. The boy comes up from the glade sputtering and choking, breathing hard. They put the gag back on and toss him to the ground.The young looking elf is in a simple tunic, without symbol or ornament, short white-blond hair that must just be growing back from a shaved head. His eyes are a familiar shade of orange.Player“Dammit, Tymora,” I mutter to myself. “And you had been smiling on me so well. I’m sorry, Laelin. Change of plans,” I say as I start to move away in the direction of the spring. “If you can rescue the elf-boy do so. If not, mark our direction and pray we meet safely again.”I walk down the forested path to the spring, emerging a stone’s throw away from the riders. I do not make any extraneous noise but I am not hiding as I walk to the water to drink.“By Bane’s balls, where is this damned meeting place supposed to be?” I say somewhat loudly to myself, hoping that catches their attention.Conspicuous Test: B2 = 4,5 – 2 successes.GMThe orcs look confused, and so they look to their leader. He steps right up into your face. You can smell his poisonous breath as his fanged maw makes the common tongue. His eyes glow like coals and are filled with cunning earned through a brutal life among the orc legions.“Meeting place? Here, is it? Are you lost, little half-elf?”One of his riders laughs, “He’s only half an elf, in an old elf-forest like this, maybe he can only find half his way there.” The wolves join in, snorting laughter.The wolves and the orc begin making a circle around you. Between you and the elf-boy is their leader, who introduces himself.“I am He Who Cleaves the Heads of King Obould’s Enemies from their shoulders and puts them Upon Stakes for all to See.” <a href="http://www.obsidianportal.com/campaigns/the-song-of-hal-whitewyrm/characters/head-taker-obould" target="_blank">Head-Taker</a> takes out his elven longsword. Its handle is a white dragon’s head and you can see that as the sunlight hits it, etched snowflakes dance up and down the length of the blade.“Who are you claiming to be, little half-elf?”I think we’re lookin’ at a Falsehood check at double ob…so, ob 4 becomes ob 8. We don’t have to roll it just yet. Let’s role-play a little bit but I want you to know that they do not trust you and that this roll is likely coming.PlayerMother, help me.I stand as tall and proud as I can in front of Head-Taker, using every ounce of willpower I have to remain steadfast in his presence.“I am Hal Stephaln, vagrant duelist to some, bane of freedom to others. I am a seeker of the lost, whom I deliver to those who pay well for the servitude of the weak. I sell my services to those who pay well, and then again to those who pay better. And I seek the meeting place marked by the wizard from the Zhentarim for the exchange of elven goods for slaves and gold. I greet you, He Who Cleaves The Heads of King Obould’s Enemies From Their Shoulders and Puts Them Upon Stakes For All To See.”And without looking away from Head-Taker, I say to the one who made the quip, “I am Half-Elf, you Nameless, and you will remember that lest I make you not forget it.”GM<a href="http://www.obsidianportal.com/campaigns/the-song-of-hal-whitewyrm/characters/laelin-blackhand" target="_blank">Laelin Blackhand</a> comes out of the shadows, loaded crossbow tossed over his shoulder with a sneer on his face that looks natural. The angle he chose to walk out of the forest puts him outside of the semi-circle formed by the pack. “Crew’s all set, Master Stephaln. As soon as I give the word, they’ll meet us ahead, as ordered. I just wanted to see if you needed any help with these lot. The Orc King’s wolfriders are nothing to face down alone.”“You don’t have anyone with you,” the Head-Taker says, looking over Laelin’s shoulder into the forest.“You didn’t know I was here a moment ago, didja? You wouldn’t have known any of us was here if our valiant vagrant duelist leader hadn’t decided to walk into your camp and introduce his damned self.”Two of the wolves stare out into the forest and their tails go between their legs. The other orc with the Head-Taker are looking out into the trees with panic in their eyes.The Head-Taker points at Laelin with his sword. “Something’s wrong with you bastards; I don’t like you showing up at our watering hole one bit.”Laelin’s crossbow isn’t aimed at anyone specifically, but its out and ready.It might be time to roll the dice soon. If and when that is, Laelin offers you a helping die from this little performance.Player“Head-Taker of Obould’s Enemies, there is no need for alarm. My men and I seek to deliver our goods, not to tangle with mighty orcs of the Broken Arrow. The spring of Drowned Hope is on our way north to Zhentil Keep, skirting the elven ruins. The way is arduous on our slaves, but not impossible, and it allows us to travel from the Dalelands with our merchandise without pesky interruptions. Meeting your band here this night is pure luck.”As I say this, somewhere in the back of my mind, it suddenly becomes horribly clear that the knowledge of the Dalelands-Zhentil Keep forest route is something I picked up during my time in Xerzes’s dungeons. Worse, quite probably this is the very same route traveled by my pregnant mother when she was captured and sold to the mad wizard.“I wonder, however,” I continue, trying to clear my head from such thoughts and concentrate on the dangerous task at hand, “why King Obould’s troops would wander so far from his Citadel? Then again I see you bear a captive and a ransom at your back. Perhaps we seek the same person, someone procuring elven artifacts in exchange for slaves and gold? What you bear there strapped to your back certainly seems like a valuable treasure and matches the description given out by the wizard. Is the elf-boy part of the transaction as well?”Beginner’s Luck Falsehood (Will): B4 + 1D Laelin = 6,4,6,6,1 + 1 Fate artha → 1,4,5 – 6 successes.So close…GM“Only a fortnight or less journey from where your elven highfather and the One Who Never Sleeps did battle, leaving a gorge in their wake and here we are, half an elf and an orc matching wits.”“Know what I think, Hal?” the Head-Taker spits out your name like a curse, not respecting any name that was not earned through proper orc ritual before Grummsh’s cruel eye.“I think you are two scouts for the Knights of the North. I think if we were to examine your corpses, we’d find raven tattoos on your asses. I think you have no back-up. You broke enough of the Zhent-code or have a spy with good enough information and it led you here and when this turned out to be the wrong place, you did your best with lies and failed.”The rest of his pack are noticing a familiar tone in the Head-Taker’s voice and are becoming nervous, ready for blood to be spilled at any moment.“So, we’ll settle it like this. You’ll throw down your weapons and your gear and we’ll lead you to Xerez and see what’s what. If my suspicions are correct, we’ll sell you to the wizard along with our elf boy. If I’m wrong, you’ll have my sincere apologies and everything that belongs to you returned. Keep in mind that we only need one of you alive, so if one of you tries to run between here and the meeting-place, we’ll catch that one on wolf-back and kill the other slowly in front of the would-be escapist. Deal?”He holds the elven sword on his shoulder, casually but ready to strike.Laelin Blackhand, for the first time, looks nervous. His crossbow is on his hip, still making a pretense at being casual but ready to fire at the Head-taker.PlayerTymora, you bitch…I look at Head-Taker in the eyes. Whatever happens, whatever I think, I keep looking at the orc in the eyes. I am aware of the other two orc, of their great wolves, of the running water which right now at this very moment takes its name from my own feelings. I sense Laelin behind me, nervous. Dammit, Laelin, why couldn’t you heed my words and stay in the forest? Now I have your life to think about as well.Mother, it has come to this, I think. If you have any way to catch the ear of Lady Luck, I pray you beseech her to watch over me as I take this next step. Let Nasharel know that I love her.Three orc, three wolves. One rogue with a crossbow, one would-be hero with a sword and a song. One Abyss-cursed, worm-ridden, rotten-hearted Zhent slaver whom both of us have a debt to repay.Tymora, you bitch…“Deal,” I say as I take off my scabbard and dagger and let it fall at Head-Taker’s feet. “Let’s go see Xerez.”</blockquote>

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