Jon Potter
First Post
Deleted
Double Double
Post Post
Double Double
Post Post
Last edited:
-
NOW LIVE! Into the Woods--new character species, eerie monsters, and haunting villains to populate the woodlands of your D&D games.
The Realms of Enlightenment: The Grey Companions
- Thread starter Jon Potter
- Start date
Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #277] Tracking the Tracker 2
"I think that Thumble will have to wait," Ixin said and Feln snorted.
"The world will not fall because we stopped in Thumble," the half-orc told them. "Our path is not certain."
"I disagree," Ledare interjected. "Again, our path seems clear. We should move quickly in the direction of Greenhill Woods. Perhaps we can still find Plonius. Or more likely, he will find us."
"Then let us move!" Grisham growled. "His trail grows cold while we stand here yapping!"
"Um, shouldn't we think about getting horses?" Vade asked. "I mean he does have a two day lead on us and he's riding a horse."
"Proof of two things," Grisham said as he returned to the group. "First that this killer is not The Hound and second that he knows nothing of Greenhill Woods. The undergrowth is too thick for a horse and rider; we'll soon overtake them if we get moving!"
"Oi, woodsman, lead us to The Hound so we may determine the truth o' the villager's story," Karak said running his thumb along the curve of his waraxe as he spoke. "Me and my axe have a fine way o' determining the truth. If'n he be the one after all that killed the high priest, then justice will be met. If'n he nae be the one, then justice will be met as a man will nae longer be accused of the crime."
"He's not a killer of men," Grisham repeated his stance. "But when the time comes to face this imposter, your axe will but follow my own blades toward justice."
Karak harrumphed and rested his axe on his shoulder. "We'll see, lad," he told the barbarian as he started down the Eginnion Road. "We'll see."
"Wait!" Ixin called, pointing at the small shrine of Flor. "We can't afford not to bury this body or it could come back as an undead."
"Undead!?" the smith bellowed fearfully. He backed away from the shrine while making the sign of the evil eye.
"We must do whatever Karak can do to bless the body and the ground and give it a proper burial," the drakeling urged and Karak stopped in his tracks and turned around.
"An' jus' what am I supposed to do?" the dwarf grumbled. "Just because me chalak was a cleric do nae mean I know all of 'is tricks."
"We can't take the time to bury this dead body, anyway, Ixin," Ledare said. "But perhaps Karak can move it or maybe we could quickly treat it so that the townspeople will not fear for their health and can have some kind of burial."
"It be better off where it is until a real priest can see to it," the dwarf told them. "There be nae undead what'll rise on hallowed ground anyhow."
"Are there other priests who could see to the burial?" Ledare asked the smith and the man nodded slowly as if in a daze. His eyes were fixed on the door to the small shrine as if he expected a shambling zombie to come barreling out at him any moment.
"We sent a rider east toward Redwood to fetch someone," he explained. "Simon said that there was a right big temple of Flor thereabouts."
"Good," the Janissary told him and reached into her belt pouch. "Your people can assist us in the battle against the great evil responsible for Simon's passing. Not Plonius; I speak of an evil that is beyond even your worst imagining." She pulled out the handful of coins that her pouch contained and scowled at the meager offering. Then she forced the copper and silver and gold into the smith's hands adding, "Do this for the sake of your families and loved ones: reopen this shrine and let its small light shine bright in the blackness that surrounds us."
"Are all rangers irritable and crabby?" Vade asked as they moved off the road at the point where it started to curve away the vast wall of green that marked the edge of Greenhill Woods and head more directly to the south. Somewhere in the distance, it would eventually meet up with an old trade route leading into Olven Vale, the Altan Tepe mountains and eventually via a high mountain pass into, Pellham itself. Grisham was crouched low to the ground surveying the damp soil with a practiced eye.
"Without looking up at the halfling he grunted, "You obviously never have met The Hound. He was always laughing and offering kind words to those we helped. And look where it got him! Hated and feared by those for whom he so long protected."
"Well, I never did meet The Hound," Vade admitted, "But we were with Windstryder for a while and... Well, my mama says if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything... bitch." Grisham shot him a look and Ixin stepped forward, smiling.
"Windstryder was a little short on people skills," the mage explained and Grisham snorted derisively.
"People skills are of little use in the wild," the barbarian told her before turning back to the trail he was following. "Stopping to make nice with a lion will earn you a warm spot in its belly - nothing more!"
He stood up abruptly and pointed toward the woods. "The trail heads straight off that way!" he said and took off at a trot that was faster than any of the others could keep up with. "I'll scout ahead and meet you at the forest's edge!"
"Well. He's not much for small talk is he?" Ledare observed and Ixin nodded.
"It's just as well," she said. "I wanted a chance to caution everyone to be wary and not speak about our mission to Grisham if we can."
"Aye!" Karak said with a nod. "I be as friendly as the next dwarf, but I say for security we keep an extra careful eye on the guy during our watches, as well."
"I'm not sure he should be trusted quite yet," Morier agreed. "So we should be on guard about him, but I think we do need to follow him." The albino pointed toward Grisham who was a dwindling speck in the distance now.
"Oh, right!" Ledare said. "Let's hurry up."
Grisham was crouched down beside a large spruce tree popping berries into his mouth one after the other. As they approached he stood up and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "We'll never catch up to this imposter if you lot don't hurry up!" he growled. "The wolf spirit teaches us to trust our alpha and follow his lead. You all circle every decision like vultures, worrying over every detail as if it were a bit of carrion."
"We value each other's opinions," Ledare defended.
"Reflecting on different courses of action often helps to reveal the correct one," Ixin added and Grisham snorted again.
"Time enough for reflection around the evening fire," he asserted and then pointed off into the trees. "The imposter went this way, still mounted. And as I predicted, his pace has slowed considerably. If we press on we might overtake him in a day or two even with the dwarf and the hobbit along."
"Then let's go!" Karak grumbled, matching Grisham's surly attitude snarl for snarl. The barbarian grinned and tossed a small leather bag to Vade.
"Here!" he said. "Those should help supplement our food as we go." Vade opened the bag and his face split with a grin.
"Dillonberries!" he cheered and stuffed a handful eagerly into his mouth.
"What cool stuff can you do?" Vade asked the man later as they stopped again for Grisham to study the thick layer of needles and leaves over which they were marching. "I mean besides finding yummy berries."
Grisham grunted noncommittally and edged a few feet away along the trail. Vade didn't take the hint.
"I am good at finding stuff," the halfling said as his gaze moved appraisingly over the barbarian's meager supply of gear. The man seemed to have little of value although his weapons and armor were of high-quality. "Ixin is good at saving people," Vade went on. "She saved my life. If it weren't for her, I would not be standing here talking to you."
"Remind me to thank her later," Grisham said without looking up. The man's tone made it difficult to decide whether he'd meant it as a joke or a threat.
"Where are you from?" the little rogue went on. "I mean what kind of a name is Grisham, anyway?"
The barbarian stood up quickly, one of his hand axes in his left hand. He looked around nervously. "Did you hear that?" he asked in a husky whisper.
"Hear what?" Vade replied and cupped a hand around his pointed ear.
"There is is again!" Grisham announced, jerking his head to look the way they had been heading all along. He started off at a jog that was a quick and silent as a panther's. "Wait here!" he advised and vanished into the underbrush.
The others stood looking at one another for the space of a few heartbeats and then Karak hefted his axe.
"Like hells I will!" he growled and shouldered his way through the brush after Grisham with the others following close behind.
They heard the sound before too long - a horse in distress. It was an easy thing to follow the sound to its source: a roan mare lying weakly on the ground. Her right foreleg was clearly broken and from the dried feces smeared on her haunches and the way that the underbrush around her was matted and trampled, she'd laid there struggling for a day or more. She still wore a saddle and bridal although they'd gone askew from her throes. Her eyes rolled with fear as the group stepped into the small clearing that she'd made for herself in her thrashing and she let out another pain-filled whinny, gnashing against the bit that was still in her teeth. Her lips were flecked with bloody foam where the metal restraint had cut her lips.
Grisham was on the far side of the beast, examining the ground. He looked up at the others and said grimly, "The imposter continued this way on foot. The evil bastard didn't even have the sense to put the beast down. He just got up and continued on his way!"
"I think that Thumble will have to wait," Ixin said and Feln snorted.
"The world will not fall because we stopped in Thumble," the half-orc told them. "Our path is not certain."
"I disagree," Ledare interjected. "Again, our path seems clear. We should move quickly in the direction of Greenhill Woods. Perhaps we can still find Plonius. Or more likely, he will find us."
"Then let us move!" Grisham growled. "His trail grows cold while we stand here yapping!"
"Um, shouldn't we think about getting horses?" Vade asked. "I mean he does have a two day lead on us and he's riding a horse."
"Proof of two things," Grisham said as he returned to the group. "First that this killer is not The Hound and second that he knows nothing of Greenhill Woods. The undergrowth is too thick for a horse and rider; we'll soon overtake them if we get moving!"
"Oi, woodsman, lead us to The Hound so we may determine the truth o' the villager's story," Karak said running his thumb along the curve of his waraxe as he spoke. "Me and my axe have a fine way o' determining the truth. If'n he be the one after all that killed the high priest, then justice will be met. If'n he nae be the one, then justice will be met as a man will nae longer be accused of the crime."
"He's not a killer of men," Grisham repeated his stance. "But when the time comes to face this imposter, your axe will but follow my own blades toward justice."
Karak harrumphed and rested his axe on his shoulder. "We'll see, lad," he told the barbarian as he started down the Eginnion Road. "We'll see."
"Wait!" Ixin called, pointing at the small shrine of Flor. "We can't afford not to bury this body or it could come back as an undead."
"Undead!?" the smith bellowed fearfully. He backed away from the shrine while making the sign of the evil eye.
"We must do whatever Karak can do to bless the body and the ground and give it a proper burial," the drakeling urged and Karak stopped in his tracks and turned around.
"An' jus' what am I supposed to do?" the dwarf grumbled. "Just because me chalak was a cleric do nae mean I know all of 'is tricks."
"We can't take the time to bury this dead body, anyway, Ixin," Ledare said. "But perhaps Karak can move it or maybe we could quickly treat it so that the townspeople will not fear for their health and can have some kind of burial."
"It be better off where it is until a real priest can see to it," the dwarf told them. "There be nae undead what'll rise on hallowed ground anyhow."
"Are there other priests who could see to the burial?" Ledare asked the smith and the man nodded slowly as if in a daze. His eyes were fixed on the door to the small shrine as if he expected a shambling zombie to come barreling out at him any moment.
"We sent a rider east toward Redwood to fetch someone," he explained. "Simon said that there was a right big temple of Flor thereabouts."
"Good," the Janissary told him and reached into her belt pouch. "Your people can assist us in the battle against the great evil responsible for Simon's passing. Not Plonius; I speak of an evil that is beyond even your worst imagining." She pulled out the handful of coins that her pouch contained and scowled at the meager offering. Then she forced the copper and silver and gold into the smith's hands adding, "Do this for the sake of your families and loved ones: reopen this shrine and let its small light shine bright in the blackness that surrounds us."
"Are all rangers irritable and crabby?" Vade asked as they moved off the road at the point where it started to curve away the vast wall of green that marked the edge of Greenhill Woods and head more directly to the south. Somewhere in the distance, it would eventually meet up with an old trade route leading into Olven Vale, the Altan Tepe mountains and eventually via a high mountain pass into, Pellham itself. Grisham was crouched low to the ground surveying the damp soil with a practiced eye.
"Without looking up at the halfling he grunted, "You obviously never have met The Hound. He was always laughing and offering kind words to those we helped. And look where it got him! Hated and feared by those for whom he so long protected."
"Well, I never did meet The Hound," Vade admitted, "But we were with Windstryder for a while and... Well, my mama says if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything... bitch." Grisham shot him a look and Ixin stepped forward, smiling.
"Windstryder was a little short on people skills," the mage explained and Grisham snorted derisively.
"People skills are of little use in the wild," the barbarian told her before turning back to the trail he was following. "Stopping to make nice with a lion will earn you a warm spot in its belly - nothing more!"
He stood up abruptly and pointed toward the woods. "The trail heads straight off that way!" he said and took off at a trot that was faster than any of the others could keep up with. "I'll scout ahead and meet you at the forest's edge!"
"Well. He's not much for small talk is he?" Ledare observed and Ixin nodded.
"It's just as well," she said. "I wanted a chance to caution everyone to be wary and not speak about our mission to Grisham if we can."
"Aye!" Karak said with a nod. "I be as friendly as the next dwarf, but I say for security we keep an extra careful eye on the guy during our watches, as well."
"I'm not sure he should be trusted quite yet," Morier agreed. "So we should be on guard about him, but I think we do need to follow him." The albino pointed toward Grisham who was a dwindling speck in the distance now.
"Oh, right!" Ledare said. "Let's hurry up."
Grisham was crouched down beside a large spruce tree popping berries into his mouth one after the other. As they approached he stood up and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "We'll never catch up to this imposter if you lot don't hurry up!" he growled. "The wolf spirit teaches us to trust our alpha and follow his lead. You all circle every decision like vultures, worrying over every detail as if it were a bit of carrion."
"We value each other's opinions," Ledare defended.
"Reflecting on different courses of action often helps to reveal the correct one," Ixin added and Grisham snorted again.
"Time enough for reflection around the evening fire," he asserted and then pointed off into the trees. "The imposter went this way, still mounted. And as I predicted, his pace has slowed considerably. If we press on we might overtake him in a day or two even with the dwarf and the hobbit along."
"Then let's go!" Karak grumbled, matching Grisham's surly attitude snarl for snarl. The barbarian grinned and tossed a small leather bag to Vade.
"Here!" he said. "Those should help supplement our food as we go." Vade opened the bag and his face split with a grin.
"Dillonberries!" he cheered and stuffed a handful eagerly into his mouth.
"What cool stuff can you do?" Vade asked the man later as they stopped again for Grisham to study the thick layer of needles and leaves over which they were marching. "I mean besides finding yummy berries."
Grisham grunted noncommittally and edged a few feet away along the trail. Vade didn't take the hint.
"I am good at finding stuff," the halfling said as his gaze moved appraisingly over the barbarian's meager supply of gear. The man seemed to have little of value although his weapons and armor were of high-quality. "Ixin is good at saving people," Vade went on. "She saved my life. If it weren't for her, I would not be standing here talking to you."
"Remind me to thank her later," Grisham said without looking up. The man's tone made it difficult to decide whether he'd meant it as a joke or a threat.
"Where are you from?" the little rogue went on. "I mean what kind of a name is Grisham, anyway?"
The barbarian stood up quickly, one of his hand axes in his left hand. He looked around nervously. "Did you hear that?" he asked in a husky whisper.
"Hear what?" Vade replied and cupped a hand around his pointed ear.
"There is is again!" Grisham announced, jerking his head to look the way they had been heading all along. He started off at a jog that was a quick and silent as a panther's. "Wait here!" he advised and vanished into the underbrush.
The others stood looking at one another for the space of a few heartbeats and then Karak hefted his axe.
"Like hells I will!" he growled and shouldered his way through the brush after Grisham with the others following close behind.
They heard the sound before too long - a horse in distress. It was an easy thing to follow the sound to its source: a roan mare lying weakly on the ground. Her right foreleg was clearly broken and from the dried feces smeared on her haunches and the way that the underbrush around her was matted and trampled, she'd laid there struggling for a day or more. She still wore a saddle and bridal although they'd gone askew from her throes. Her eyes rolled with fear as the group stepped into the small clearing that she'd made for herself in her thrashing and she let out another pain-filled whinny, gnashing against the bit that was still in her teeth. Her lips were flecked with bloody foam where the metal restraint had cut her lips.
Grisham was on the far side of the beast, examining the ground. He looked up at the others and said grimly, "The imposter continued this way on foot. The evil bastard didn't even have the sense to put the beast down. He just got up and continued on his way!"
Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #278] Horseplay & Healing
"Well, this certainly doesn't seem like the work of a guy who is always laughing and offering kind words to those he helps," Ledare observed. "Something's fishy here."
"Aye!" Grisham said with a fierce nod as he got to his feet. "Like I've been saying from the start."
Feln took in the tragic scene and rapped his knuckles against Karak's helm, saying, "Karak, will you help me put this animal down? Your axe seems the most efficient tool." Without waiting for a response, the half-orc began easing his way toward the horse, making a calm shushing noise as he went.
"While you attend that I'll follow these tracks a ways and see if they reveal anything more," Grisham told them and the forest drank him up in a single gulp.
"I be nae one for animal husbandry, but it seems to me this horse needs to meet Shaharizod!" the dwarf agreed gripping his axe grimly in both hands. He shook his shaggy head and clucked his tongue. "Poor creature of burden. It does its duty only to be left a lyin' here to die a slow an' painful death." He was about to join Feln nearer the downed animal when Ixin darted between them, her cloak swirling about her.
"Don't you dare harm this creature," Ixin admonished, her eyes were slits of yellow bale-fire. She produced a vial of Cure Light Wounds that she had purchased back in Hillville Junction. "We have the ability to heal it and we can not simultaneously work for the forces of life and also take it." Unimpressed, Feln snarled at the mage.
"Ixin, do not speak to me as if I do not understand the importance of life. I carry that knowledge along with the guilt of past misjudgements with me at all times," he said, hesitating for a moment as a wash of memory played across his craggy features. Then he pointed a finger at the drakeling and went on. "If we are to truly serve the purpose of life, we need to hold that healing potion to keep ourselves strong and give this horse a painless death to end its suffering."
And saying thus, he reached out quick as a cobra with one meaty hand, grasped Ixin's arm at the wrist and spun her behind him so that they exchanged places. Ixin's face twisted with surprise and then anger, and when she regained her balance her sharp teeth were bared and the smoldering glow in her eyes had increased to a fiery light. "You dare lay hands on me?!" she growled. "In my own land that would get you fed to the clan wyrmlings! If I have to flay the sinew from your bones bit by bit to save this animal, I will!" She started forward, her hands hooked into rending claws, but Morier interposed himself between she and Feln.
"Hold!" Ledare commanded but for a moment, emotions were running too high to respect her order. Morier heaved his shoulder against Ixin's sternum with a strength that belied his small stature and he halted her forward motion. She glowered down at him for a moment and her fierce gaze locked onto his own. Only he was close enough to see the wisp of sulfurous smoke escape from the drakeling's flaring nostrils but the sight of it was enough to stop them both from struggling further against one another.
"I said, HOLD!" the Janissary bellowed again and this time Ravager was in her hand. She pointed the serrated blade at them as she spoke. "Listen, both of you! We are together in this, and we will make decisions together. No one acts alone, no matter how passionate your feelings may be or how much you feel misunderstood?"
Reluctantly, both Ixin and Feln nodded.
"I just think it's unbelievably important that-" Ixin started but Ledare held up a hand to forestall any arguments,
"No matter the justification, I WILL NOT tolerate in-fighting," the Janissary said simply and Morier nodded.
"We must all understand that the road we have travelled together thus far has been difficult and frustrating, but we have travelled it together and we must continue to do so," the albino told them. "Opposition within our own ranks is exactly what allows these evil forces to make the in-roads that derail those who seek to destroy them. Let us not fall victim to those same traps."
Feln sighed and turned to Ixin. "Use your supplies as you will for this... animal," the half-orc said. "But pray that do we not fall short of healing later." Then he turned and slipped into the underbrush, disappearing in the same direction that Grisham had gone.
"Ixin, in that at least, Feln is right. We need every healing potion we have," Ledare admitted. "Does anyone have a spell that can make this horse comfortable?" She looked around at the remaining faces: Ixin, Morier and Karak shook their heads. Vade's face brightened however and he began rummaging through his pack.
"Oooh! I know!" he said and then pulled out the Wand of Healing that they had recovered from the goblin caves. "I've been practicing with this since we found it. This might be the prefect chance to try it for real!"
"Fine, Vade," the Janissary said, resheathing her sword. "Do it quickly, and let's proceed. If it doesn't work, then we do what we can for the horse without using a potion."
"This is another living creature and the god of beasts would ill approve of us not doing everything in our power to help it," Ixin argued but Ledare just shook her head.
"You mustn't lose sight of the bigger picture, Ixin," the Janissary explained. "We could fail entirely if we use up all of our resources without a thought for what lies ahead."
"I disagree," the sorcerer sighed.
"And you're entitled to, so long as you can put that aside and do the job we all need you to do" Ledare admitted. "We must operate as a team and we can't do that while at the same time allowing rash and emotional acts, no matter how logical they may feel to the individuals involved."
Ixin said nothing, but went to help Vade by calming the horse as best she could. She laid one hand over the animal's eyes and stroked its muzzle with the other all the while cooing into its ear. It seemed to have the desired effect and Vade moved in close vigorously waving the wand around and spewing out every magic word he'd ever heard in a long litany of gibberish. To the halfling's credit, he managed to get the wand to glow with magic, but the spell fizzled without any results.
"Darn it!" Vade cursed, looking closely at the shaft as if he hoped to find tiny instructions etched in the side that he'd somehow missed during his previous examinations. "I wonder how you work this thing?"
"That's alright, Vade," Ledare said and she stripped off her gauntlets. "I'm not sure what I'll be able to do without a bone crank, but we did cover broken bones a bit back in the academy. Maybe I can-"
"Here, Karak, you try!" Vade interrupted and shoved the wand into the dwarf's hands. Karak looked at it as if it were sculpted from troll dung and tried to force it back onto the halfling.
"Nae! Nae!" the dwarf argued. "I be nae-"
"I tried to make it work, but I can't," Vade explained, refusing to accept the wand back. "I watched Ruze heal many, many times, but then he never used a wand. He would just get this look on his face, say some words like: 'Moon Goddess from the sky please take away the cry.'"
"He was a Battleguard," Karak protested. "I nae be-"
"Why, I remember when I was a boy in Thumble when I would fall down my mother would give me a cloth soaked in ginger root and she would say, 'Here you go, this will take away the hurt and the cry." Vade went on, oblivious to the dwarf's reddening face. "It never really did stop the hurting, but my momma sure did try. So-"
"All right, hobbit!" Karak growled shaking his head in frustration. "Clamp your mouth down shut. I can nae hear my own thoughts." He shoved Vade aside and stamped toward the horse, his eyes cast upwards to the darkening sky. He found no obvious answers there to help him deal with Vade however. Reluctantly, Karak knelt by the horse's broken limb and spit into both palms before twisting the wand and circling it around the bruised and swollen area. At first, nothing seemed to happen, but then the dwarf scrunched his eyes shut and muttered a prayer that he remembered Malak using a time or two and the wand sprang to life in his hands. He directed the magic into the horse's limb and after a few applications, there was no longer any sign of the break and the horse lay peacefully on its side.
Karak harrumped and looked critically at the wand. "It takes a dwarf to use things mechanical," he said.
By the time that Grisham and Feln returned, it was getting on toward dusk and the forest was darkening around them. Grisham carried a trio of furred animals in one hand - two squirrels and an opossum, and he announced that they'd be making camp for the night while he went about the business of hanging the meat from a nearby tree.
"There's no sign that the imposter did anything but continue on his way," he told them and Karak harrumphed. "We'll pick up the trail in the morning. Too dark to press on, tonight."
"It nae be too dark for a dwarf," he said, jabbing his thumb against his breastplate. Indicatiing Feln he added, "Nae the orcblood, neither."
"Then by all means, follow the trail in the dark," Grisham said as he started making a fire. "But I'll not waste time and effort finding you after you become lost."
Karak started to say something else and Ledare stepped forward wearily and defused the situation. "I'm tired," she said. "I'm ready to camp."
"I think we should keep an extra eye out for the rider," Vade said nervously. "We've been making more noise than an armored mountain dwarf falling down a rocky hill after chasing a hobbit with his bag of gold. Grandpa Trouble always liked that saying. It is very funny. Hee-hee! You will like Grandmpa when you come to Thumble with me, Karak... really."
The dwarf just harrumphed and offered to take first watch.
The trail continued on, ever southwestward. It veered around trees and other obstacles, but always resumed its path. By the time Orin's Shield had begun its journey to the west, Grisham was obviously troubled by the trail.
"What's wrong?" Ledare asked and Grisham turned savagely toward her with teeth bared. After a moment, his features softened, however and he shook his head in confusion.
"He's made no camp," the barbarian said, nervously fingering the tooth-and-bone fetish he wore around his neck. "I saw a spot where he'd slept a few hours back on the trail. But he's made no fire, hunted for no game. This imposter..." His voice trailed off. He had no words to describe the dread he felt.
Feln stepped up behind Ledare and whispered loudly into her ear, "I think you should ask him why he is so sure that this is an imposter?"
Grisham shot the half-orc a fiery look. "Ask me, yourself, orcblood. I've known Plonius since I was a barely passed the first hunt!" he explained. "His people and mine would spend several weeks together at the start and end of the dry season, trading. Plonius was already a great hero by that time and when I asked he took me to his hearth. He was as a father to me. So I know that the word of that peasant is false! The man we follow is not The Hound!"
Feln was unconvinced. "When is the last time you saw The Hound?" he asked.
"Nearly two moondances ago," the barbarian answered cautiously. "He visited me near the end of Planting."
"Why and when did you begin tracking this Hound?" Feln pressed.
"I've been looking for him for a bit over two weeks," Grisham said. "Because I desired to see my old friend again."
"Um. Isn't the bad guy getting away while we're standing here?" Vade asked and Grisham let out a growl of frustration.
"I'm with you lot for less than two days and already I fall victim to your bad habits!" he said and stalked off into the underbrush.
"What bad habits?" Vade called after him. "We are an elite fighting machine!"
The trail continued with no further sign of the man they tracked. Grisham insisted that they were gaining ground on the man, a feat that he claimed further supported the fact that this man wasn't The Hound.
"Plonius is of the Horse Nomads," he explained. "They can all run like the creatures they hold sacred. If this were truly Plonius we'd have no chance of overtaking him!"
"I remember when I first met him he'd been tracking riders on foot," Ledare added, a note of awe in her voice. "He was running and gaining ground on the horses."
"What else do you remember about The Hound, Kitten?" Vade asked through a mouthful of wild blackberries that Grisham had discovered. He smiled broadly and asked, "Didn't you mention he smelled bad?"
Shaking his head incredulously, Grisham went back to tracking. Toward nightfall, they followed the trail to the top of a hill bordering a narrow valley with a shallow river running along its bottom. The trail itself continued straight down the steep, gravelly slope of the hill through some heavy undergrowth. After a quick look around, Grisham discovered that a much easier descent could be made by moving down the ridgeline a mile or so where the hillside was considerably less treacherous.
"Any ranger worthy of the title would've seen the same thing," Grisham smugly explained as they moved along the ridgeline. "This isn't The Hound we're following."
They were following the trail across a wide valley of old growth trees when an elf dressed in dark, leather armor and armed with a short bow suddenly materialized out of the undergrowth a hundred feet in front of Grisham. He seemed to be alert with a defensive attitude, but was not outwardly antagonistic. His bow, while it was ready with an arrow nocked, was not drawn and he held it pointed at the ground. After a moment's study of the group, he spoke in an accented version of the Common Tongue.
"Halt, trespassers!" he commanded. "Be aware that you are moving through the lands of the Ten'Venielle; what is your business here?"
Grisham was looking nervously around and a low growling was coming from his throat. "Elves," he hissed. "Where there's one you can see, there's bound to be a dozen more that you can't. All of them ready to put an arrow in your eye."
"I ask again," the elf said and drew back on his shortbow for emphasis. "What is your business in the lands of the Ten'Venielle?"
"Well, this certainly doesn't seem like the work of a guy who is always laughing and offering kind words to those he helps," Ledare observed. "Something's fishy here."
"Aye!" Grisham said with a fierce nod as he got to his feet. "Like I've been saying from the start."
Feln took in the tragic scene and rapped his knuckles against Karak's helm, saying, "Karak, will you help me put this animal down? Your axe seems the most efficient tool." Without waiting for a response, the half-orc began easing his way toward the horse, making a calm shushing noise as he went.
"While you attend that I'll follow these tracks a ways and see if they reveal anything more," Grisham told them and the forest drank him up in a single gulp.
"I be nae one for animal husbandry, but it seems to me this horse needs to meet Shaharizod!" the dwarf agreed gripping his axe grimly in both hands. He shook his shaggy head and clucked his tongue. "Poor creature of burden. It does its duty only to be left a lyin' here to die a slow an' painful death." He was about to join Feln nearer the downed animal when Ixin darted between them, her cloak swirling about her.
"Don't you dare harm this creature," Ixin admonished, her eyes were slits of yellow bale-fire. She produced a vial of Cure Light Wounds that she had purchased back in Hillville Junction. "We have the ability to heal it and we can not simultaneously work for the forces of life and also take it." Unimpressed, Feln snarled at the mage.
"Ixin, do not speak to me as if I do not understand the importance of life. I carry that knowledge along with the guilt of past misjudgements with me at all times," he said, hesitating for a moment as a wash of memory played across his craggy features. Then he pointed a finger at the drakeling and went on. "If we are to truly serve the purpose of life, we need to hold that healing potion to keep ourselves strong and give this horse a painless death to end its suffering."
And saying thus, he reached out quick as a cobra with one meaty hand, grasped Ixin's arm at the wrist and spun her behind him so that they exchanged places. Ixin's face twisted with surprise and then anger, and when she regained her balance her sharp teeth were bared and the smoldering glow in her eyes had increased to a fiery light. "You dare lay hands on me?!" she growled. "In my own land that would get you fed to the clan wyrmlings! If I have to flay the sinew from your bones bit by bit to save this animal, I will!" She started forward, her hands hooked into rending claws, but Morier interposed himself between she and Feln.
"Hold!" Ledare commanded but for a moment, emotions were running too high to respect her order. Morier heaved his shoulder against Ixin's sternum with a strength that belied his small stature and he halted her forward motion. She glowered down at him for a moment and her fierce gaze locked onto his own. Only he was close enough to see the wisp of sulfurous smoke escape from the drakeling's flaring nostrils but the sight of it was enough to stop them both from struggling further against one another.
"I said, HOLD!" the Janissary bellowed again and this time Ravager was in her hand. She pointed the serrated blade at them as she spoke. "Listen, both of you! We are together in this, and we will make decisions together. No one acts alone, no matter how passionate your feelings may be or how much you feel misunderstood?"
Reluctantly, both Ixin and Feln nodded.
"I just think it's unbelievably important that-" Ixin started but Ledare held up a hand to forestall any arguments,
"No matter the justification, I WILL NOT tolerate in-fighting," the Janissary said simply and Morier nodded.
"We must all understand that the road we have travelled together thus far has been difficult and frustrating, but we have travelled it together and we must continue to do so," the albino told them. "Opposition within our own ranks is exactly what allows these evil forces to make the in-roads that derail those who seek to destroy them. Let us not fall victim to those same traps."
Feln sighed and turned to Ixin. "Use your supplies as you will for this... animal," the half-orc said. "But pray that do we not fall short of healing later." Then he turned and slipped into the underbrush, disappearing in the same direction that Grisham had gone.
"Ixin, in that at least, Feln is right. We need every healing potion we have," Ledare admitted. "Does anyone have a spell that can make this horse comfortable?" She looked around at the remaining faces: Ixin, Morier and Karak shook their heads. Vade's face brightened however and he began rummaging through his pack.
"Oooh! I know!" he said and then pulled out the Wand of Healing that they had recovered from the goblin caves. "I've been practicing with this since we found it. This might be the prefect chance to try it for real!"
"Fine, Vade," the Janissary said, resheathing her sword. "Do it quickly, and let's proceed. If it doesn't work, then we do what we can for the horse without using a potion."
"This is another living creature and the god of beasts would ill approve of us not doing everything in our power to help it," Ixin argued but Ledare just shook her head.
"You mustn't lose sight of the bigger picture, Ixin," the Janissary explained. "We could fail entirely if we use up all of our resources without a thought for what lies ahead."
"I disagree," the sorcerer sighed.
"And you're entitled to, so long as you can put that aside and do the job we all need you to do" Ledare admitted. "We must operate as a team and we can't do that while at the same time allowing rash and emotional acts, no matter how logical they may feel to the individuals involved."
Ixin said nothing, but went to help Vade by calming the horse as best she could. She laid one hand over the animal's eyes and stroked its muzzle with the other all the while cooing into its ear. It seemed to have the desired effect and Vade moved in close vigorously waving the wand around and spewing out every magic word he'd ever heard in a long litany of gibberish. To the halfling's credit, he managed to get the wand to glow with magic, but the spell fizzled without any results.
"Darn it!" Vade cursed, looking closely at the shaft as if he hoped to find tiny instructions etched in the side that he'd somehow missed during his previous examinations. "I wonder how you work this thing?"
"That's alright, Vade," Ledare said and she stripped off her gauntlets. "I'm not sure what I'll be able to do without a bone crank, but we did cover broken bones a bit back in the academy. Maybe I can-"
"Here, Karak, you try!" Vade interrupted and shoved the wand into the dwarf's hands. Karak looked at it as if it were sculpted from troll dung and tried to force it back onto the halfling.
"Nae! Nae!" the dwarf argued. "I be nae-"
"I tried to make it work, but I can't," Vade explained, refusing to accept the wand back. "I watched Ruze heal many, many times, but then he never used a wand. He would just get this look on his face, say some words like: 'Moon Goddess from the sky please take away the cry.'"
"He was a Battleguard," Karak protested. "I nae be-"
"Why, I remember when I was a boy in Thumble when I would fall down my mother would give me a cloth soaked in ginger root and she would say, 'Here you go, this will take away the hurt and the cry." Vade went on, oblivious to the dwarf's reddening face. "It never really did stop the hurting, but my momma sure did try. So-"
"All right, hobbit!" Karak growled shaking his head in frustration. "Clamp your mouth down shut. I can nae hear my own thoughts." He shoved Vade aside and stamped toward the horse, his eyes cast upwards to the darkening sky. He found no obvious answers there to help him deal with Vade however. Reluctantly, Karak knelt by the horse's broken limb and spit into both palms before twisting the wand and circling it around the bruised and swollen area. At first, nothing seemed to happen, but then the dwarf scrunched his eyes shut and muttered a prayer that he remembered Malak using a time or two and the wand sprang to life in his hands. He directed the magic into the horse's limb and after a few applications, there was no longer any sign of the break and the horse lay peacefully on its side.
Karak harrumped and looked critically at the wand. "It takes a dwarf to use things mechanical," he said.
By the time that Grisham and Feln returned, it was getting on toward dusk and the forest was darkening around them. Grisham carried a trio of furred animals in one hand - two squirrels and an opossum, and he announced that they'd be making camp for the night while he went about the business of hanging the meat from a nearby tree.
"There's no sign that the imposter did anything but continue on his way," he told them and Karak harrumphed. "We'll pick up the trail in the morning. Too dark to press on, tonight."
"It nae be too dark for a dwarf," he said, jabbing his thumb against his breastplate. Indicatiing Feln he added, "Nae the orcblood, neither."
"Then by all means, follow the trail in the dark," Grisham said as he started making a fire. "But I'll not waste time and effort finding you after you become lost."
Karak started to say something else and Ledare stepped forward wearily and defused the situation. "I'm tired," she said. "I'm ready to camp."
"I think we should keep an extra eye out for the rider," Vade said nervously. "We've been making more noise than an armored mountain dwarf falling down a rocky hill after chasing a hobbit with his bag of gold. Grandpa Trouble always liked that saying. It is very funny. Hee-hee! You will like Grandmpa when you come to Thumble with me, Karak... really."
The dwarf just harrumphed and offered to take first watch.
Earthday, the 29th of Wealsun, 1269 AE
The trail continued on, ever southwestward. It veered around trees and other obstacles, but always resumed its path. By the time Orin's Shield had begun its journey to the west, Grisham was obviously troubled by the trail.
"What's wrong?" Ledare asked and Grisham turned savagely toward her with teeth bared. After a moment, his features softened, however and he shook his head in confusion.
"He's made no camp," the barbarian said, nervously fingering the tooth-and-bone fetish he wore around his neck. "I saw a spot where he'd slept a few hours back on the trail. But he's made no fire, hunted for no game. This imposter..." His voice trailed off. He had no words to describe the dread he felt.
Feln stepped up behind Ledare and whispered loudly into her ear, "I think you should ask him why he is so sure that this is an imposter?"
Grisham shot the half-orc a fiery look. "Ask me, yourself, orcblood. I've known Plonius since I was a barely passed the first hunt!" he explained. "His people and mine would spend several weeks together at the start and end of the dry season, trading. Plonius was already a great hero by that time and when I asked he took me to his hearth. He was as a father to me. So I know that the word of that peasant is false! The man we follow is not The Hound!"
Feln was unconvinced. "When is the last time you saw The Hound?" he asked.
"Nearly two moondances ago," the barbarian answered cautiously. "He visited me near the end of Planting."
"Why and when did you begin tracking this Hound?" Feln pressed.
"I've been looking for him for a bit over two weeks," Grisham said. "Because I desired to see my old friend again."
"Um. Isn't the bad guy getting away while we're standing here?" Vade asked and Grisham let out a growl of frustration.
"I'm with you lot for less than two days and already I fall victim to your bad habits!" he said and stalked off into the underbrush.
"What bad habits?" Vade called after him. "We are an elite fighting machine!"
Freeday, the 30th of Wealsun and Starday, the 1st of Reaping, 1269 AE
The trail continued with no further sign of the man they tracked. Grisham insisted that they were gaining ground on the man, a feat that he claimed further supported the fact that this man wasn't The Hound.
"Plonius is of the Horse Nomads," he explained. "They can all run like the creatures they hold sacred. If this were truly Plonius we'd have no chance of overtaking him!"
"I remember when I first met him he'd been tracking riders on foot," Ledare added, a note of awe in her voice. "He was running and gaining ground on the horses."
"What else do you remember about The Hound, Kitten?" Vade asked through a mouthful of wild blackberries that Grisham had discovered. He smiled broadly and asked, "Didn't you mention he smelled bad?"
Shaking his head incredulously, Grisham went back to tracking. Toward nightfall, they followed the trail to the top of a hill bordering a narrow valley with a shallow river running along its bottom. The trail itself continued straight down the steep, gravelly slope of the hill through some heavy undergrowth. After a quick look around, Grisham discovered that a much easier descent could be made by moving down the ridgeline a mile or so where the hillside was considerably less treacherous.
"Any ranger worthy of the title would've seen the same thing," Grisham smugly explained as they moved along the ridgeline. "This isn't The Hound we're following."
Sunday, the 2nd of Reaping, 1269 AE
They were following the trail across a wide valley of old growth trees when an elf dressed in dark, leather armor and armed with a short bow suddenly materialized out of the undergrowth a hundred feet in front of Grisham. He seemed to be alert with a defensive attitude, but was not outwardly antagonistic. His bow, while it was ready with an arrow nocked, was not drawn and he held it pointed at the ground. After a moment's study of the group, he spoke in an accented version of the Common Tongue.
"Halt, trespassers!" he commanded. "Be aware that you are moving through the lands of the Ten'Venielle; what is your business here?"
Grisham was looking nervously around and a low growling was coming from his throat. "Elves," he hissed. "Where there's one you can see, there's bound to be a dozen more that you can't. All of them ready to put an arrow in your eye."
"I ask again," the elf said and drew back on his shortbow for emphasis. "What is your business in the lands of the Ten'Venielle?"
Last edited:
Hairy Minotaur
Explorer
Jon Potter said:
These aren't the hounds you're looking for, move along.
Going great Jon!
Jon Potter
First Post
Hairy Minotaur said:These aren't the hounds you're looking for, move along.
It hasn't really come up in the Story Hour before, but Ledare's player (Kristen*) wrote a very "Luke Skywalker" history for her character. Away on some frivolous activity when there's a raid at her aunt and uncle's home. She returns to flames and dead bodies.
So far she hasn't displayed any mental powers however.
Going great Jon!
Glad you like it. This adventure is one of the tent poles holding up my campaign. I found the adventure series online back in '97 or '98 and liked it so much that I structured everything else around it. This particular installment is very linear and light on action at the start (two things I didn't realize until we got into it) but when it heats up it really heats up!
*I may post the recent picture of our gaming group that Kristen emailed to me. One of the other players is supposed to be taking some shots of our minis as well that I planned to put on display here or in the rogue's gallery thread. If I ever get around to updating the rogue's gallery thread, that is.
RangerWickett
Legend
Does this thread start with the, um, start? Because while I'm perfectly willing to read things that begin in medias res, I'd prefer to know a bit more about what's going on. It's a little hard for me as a reader to get involved with the story when it starts on a heavy bit of dialogue. The mystery of the blood rain was interesting, but by the end of your second installment there still hadn't been much action.
Jon Potter
First Post
RangerWickett said:
It does not begin anywhere near the beginning, actually. I think the PCs were around 3rd or 4th level by this point and we started the game at 1st. This is more the beginning of the game using the 3E ruleset.
The rest (if you're really ambitious or have a lot of time to kill) is here .
Well, I see your point. However, my players are all about talking every problem over from every point of view, so there's no getting around it. And things heat up considerably by the third installment, Turn 181: A Better Ratrap.
Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #278a] Which Way Did He Go?
"We should approach him," Feln grunted over his shoulder to the Janissary. "Do you want to do the talking or should I?" Karak cleared his throat meaningfully to get the half-orc's attention.
"You watch the fore, I'll watch the aft," the dwarf muttered into his beard, his gray eyes darting around nervously. "While we let the elves do the talking." Feln acceded to the wisdom of Karak's suggestion and the dwarf moved to the rear of the group clutching his axe warily as he searched the trees for any sign of elven snipers. He saw none.
Vade watched all this whispering and milling about and tugged on Ledare's scabbard to get her attention. "Why don't we tell them the truth?" he whispered up to Ledare. Turning to the eldritch warrior he prompted, "You are an elf, Morier. Maybe you should talk to them." Morier looked stricken for an instant before he regained his composure and stepped between Vade and the elf with the bow. He looked meaningfully into the halfling's eyes and raised a finger to his thin lips.
"What's the matter, Morier?" Vade asked, blinking up at Morier. "You are an elf too. You should talk to your people." Again a storm cloud moved across the albino's face, but this time Feln intervened.
"Why don't you hold back," the half-orc suggested, meeting Morier's gaze. The eldritch warrior nodded and did his best to blend into the group's ranks. Feln directed his attention to Vade then and said, "Keep an eye on Morier; most elves dislike him."
"Why?" Vade asked with genuine concern in his voice. "Morier's an elf like-"
"Hush now," Feln suggested, giving Vade's shoulder a gentle squeeze.
"By Roofdrak's bloody maw!" Grisham barked in frustration. He shot the group a reproachful look and without further warning he lurched forward to address the scout himself, "Ho, elf! We're tracking a killer! One who is impersonating The Hound!"
This prompted some concern from the elven archer and spurred both Ixin and Ledare to step forward. "What the human says is true," Ixin said with a warm smile. "We are banded together in search of a murderer whom we believe may have passed this way."
"A murderer?" the elf asked, his emotions unreadable.
"Yes," Ledare told him. "He killed one of Flor's Mercybringers in the town of Flavonshire and fled to these woods. Have you seen anyone else trespassing on your land recently?"
The elf released the tension on his bow and thought for a moment before responding. "Before I answer, I would know more of you and your intentions," he said, his eyes intent and penetrating. "By what authority do you seek this man?"
"We are the VQS!" Vade cried loudly, dodging Feln's restraining hands to trot up beside the women and Grisham. "We mean no harm to you or your land. May we please go about our business?" He then stage-whispered up to Ledare, "How is that, Kitten? I have been practicing sounding authorative."
Before Ledare could answer, the elf spoke again. "The Veek'yuess is unknown to me," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. It was clear that he was looking chiefly in the direction of Feln and Karak as he spoke, but he turned his scrutiny on Ixin as well. "You are.. a motley group."
"The forces of good transcend race and breed," Ledare told him without missing a beat. "We band together because we must." Her response seemed to meet with the elf's approval and he returned his arrow to its quiver with a nod.
"We did not intend to trespass and would be grateful for safe passage through your lands," Ixin added with her most winning smile, "or any information about the possible whereabouts of the man we seek."
"The Hound is known to the Ten'Venielle," the elf admitted as he approached the group. "He helped us drive the gnolls from the forest in winters past. We find it difficult to believe that he is a murderer."
"It's not The Hound we've been tracking!" Grisham growled, making a slashing gesture with his hand. "I've been telling them from the beginning: we're tracking an imposter! Someone is trying to ruin Plonius' good name!" The elf nodded.
"I am sure that you are correct," he said. "Two of our shikar, Lithraldor and Lenndel, reported seeing The Hound - or someone they thought was The Hound - the day before yesterday moving through these woods along the path you now follow. They did not approach or hinder him, however. The Hound is welcome in our lands."
"Thank you for this information," Ledare replied. "Have there been any other out-of-the-ordinary occurrences here of late?"
"No," the elf said. "Other than the Veek'yuess, it has been quiet. Seeing The Hound in the forest is not unusual."
"It's not The Hound," Grisham grumbled and the elf nodded.
"We will be on our guard," he told them. "If you wish we can escort you to the border of our territory, but you are free to pursue this man as you will. If we see him again we will question him to determine his identity."
"We should approach him," Feln grunted over his shoulder to the Janissary. "Do you want to do the talking or should I?" Karak cleared his throat meaningfully to get the half-orc's attention.
"You watch the fore, I'll watch the aft," the dwarf muttered into his beard, his gray eyes darting around nervously. "While we let the elves do the talking." Feln acceded to the wisdom of Karak's suggestion and the dwarf moved to the rear of the group clutching his axe warily as he searched the trees for any sign of elven snipers. He saw none.
Vade watched all this whispering and milling about and tugged on Ledare's scabbard to get her attention. "Why don't we tell them the truth?" he whispered up to Ledare. Turning to the eldritch warrior he prompted, "You are an elf, Morier. Maybe you should talk to them." Morier looked stricken for an instant before he regained his composure and stepped between Vade and the elf with the bow. He looked meaningfully into the halfling's eyes and raised a finger to his thin lips.
"What's the matter, Morier?" Vade asked, blinking up at Morier. "You are an elf too. You should talk to your people." Again a storm cloud moved across the albino's face, but this time Feln intervened.
"Why don't you hold back," the half-orc suggested, meeting Morier's gaze. The eldritch warrior nodded and did his best to blend into the group's ranks. Feln directed his attention to Vade then and said, "Keep an eye on Morier; most elves dislike him."
"Why?" Vade asked with genuine concern in his voice. "Morier's an elf like-"
"Hush now," Feln suggested, giving Vade's shoulder a gentle squeeze.
"By Roofdrak's bloody maw!" Grisham barked in frustration. He shot the group a reproachful look and without further warning he lurched forward to address the scout himself, "Ho, elf! We're tracking a killer! One who is impersonating The Hound!"
This prompted some concern from the elven archer and spurred both Ixin and Ledare to step forward. "What the human says is true," Ixin said with a warm smile. "We are banded together in search of a murderer whom we believe may have passed this way."
"A murderer?" the elf asked, his emotions unreadable.
"Yes," Ledare told him. "He killed one of Flor's Mercybringers in the town of Flavonshire and fled to these woods. Have you seen anyone else trespassing on your land recently?"
The elf released the tension on his bow and thought for a moment before responding. "Before I answer, I would know more of you and your intentions," he said, his eyes intent and penetrating. "By what authority do you seek this man?"
"We are the VQS!" Vade cried loudly, dodging Feln's restraining hands to trot up beside the women and Grisham. "We mean no harm to you or your land. May we please go about our business?" He then stage-whispered up to Ledare, "How is that, Kitten? I have been practicing sounding authorative."
Before Ledare could answer, the elf spoke again. "The Veek'yuess is unknown to me," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. It was clear that he was looking chiefly in the direction of Feln and Karak as he spoke, but he turned his scrutiny on Ixin as well. "You are.. a motley group."
"The forces of good transcend race and breed," Ledare told him without missing a beat. "We band together because we must." Her response seemed to meet with the elf's approval and he returned his arrow to its quiver with a nod.
"We did not intend to trespass and would be grateful for safe passage through your lands," Ixin added with her most winning smile, "or any information about the possible whereabouts of the man we seek."
"The Hound is known to the Ten'Venielle," the elf admitted as he approached the group. "He helped us drive the gnolls from the forest in winters past. We find it difficult to believe that he is a murderer."
"It's not The Hound we've been tracking!" Grisham growled, making a slashing gesture with his hand. "I've been telling them from the beginning: we're tracking an imposter! Someone is trying to ruin Plonius' good name!" The elf nodded.
"I am sure that you are correct," he said. "Two of our shikar, Lithraldor and Lenndel, reported seeing The Hound - or someone they thought was The Hound - the day before yesterday moving through these woods along the path you now follow. They did not approach or hinder him, however. The Hound is welcome in our lands."
"Thank you for this information," Ledare replied. "Have there been any other out-of-the-ordinary occurrences here of late?"
"No," the elf said. "Other than the Veek'yuess, it has been quiet. Seeing The Hound in the forest is not unusual."
"It's not The Hound," Grisham grumbled and the elf nodded.
"We will be on our guard," he told them. "If you wish we can escort you to the border of our territory, but you are free to pursue this man as you will. If we see him again we will question him to determine his identity."
Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #279] End of the Line?
"That is a generous offer. We would appreciate any assistance we can get in tracking this man," Ixin told the elf.
"We don't need any help," Grisham snapped. "He's leaving a trail that a blind man could follow."
"You seem capable. You are already following the path on which our shikar saw him," the elf explained. "And if he indeed pressed on at the rate he was travelling his trail is not long for our territory. Beyond that we will not stray."
"Perhaps we should ask him to help us find this imposter. As Papa used to say, 'A blind squirrel can't find any nuts unless he knows the trees,' Vade asked the others in a voice clearly loud enough for the elf to hear. "We are the blind squirrels, the elves know the trees and together we can find the nut... or The Hound... or the imposter... or-"
"We get it, Vade," Ledare said with a smile. "An escort might help us to gain some time on our man. The elves would know this land better than we do, and might be able to speed us along."
"It would be our pleasure," the elf said with a bow.
"What do you know of the temple of Flor and her followers?" Ixin asked, sidling a step closer to the elf.
"Little, I'm afraid," the elf answered. "I am aware that she is a goddess of healing and mercy, but I was unaware that she had a temple in the human settlement to the north. We leave the woodland but rarely."
"What other news might you share with us of events in your area then?" the drakeling pressed, flashing a gleaming smile. "We are fighting a great evil and often find that events of chaos are connected when they do not seem to be. Any news you are able to give us could help in our fight against evil."
The elf thought for a moment and then shrugged. "The cycles of late have passed with little unexpected trouble for us," he said. "The Deer of Plenty have grown to such numbers that our Wayshepards have bade our hunters thin the herd. Our bellies have been full this season and last. The angler lizards have begun to manifest a red glow rather than blue near the waters of Luc'Elradrielind, but we think it is due in large part to the closeness of Lady Qillaquithe's arcanenexus."
Their new guide went on as they walked, spouting off "news" of the elflands that managed to be at one and the same time both wonderfully magical and mind-numbingly dull. The path he led them along followed the direction they had been travelling and continued on until they reached a wide and deep river that flowed sluggishly along through the forest.
"This river marks the edge of Ten'Venielle lands," the elf announced.
"His trail continues on," Grisham observed after checking the ground closely. He grimaced at the dark water. "It'll be a wet crossing."
"There is a natural ford less than a mile to the south," the elf observed. "The most you will suffer there are wet boots."
Grisham scowled at the elf and then his face softened. "Thank you," he said and started to trot in the indicated direction.
"I hope that you find this murderer you seek," the elf said with complete sincerity.
"Thank you," Ledare said as she passed. "Your help is appreciated."
"May the spirits of my ancestors watch over you on your journey," the elf added as the VQS went off to follow the barbarian.
At the ford, which consisted of a series of partially submerged stepping stones, Grisham shook his head in disgust. "No one with any skill at woodcraft would have crossed where this imposter did," he grumbled. "He's not only a killer, he's a damned fool to boot!"
After they had all made the crossing (some more dryly than others) the barbarian squinted up at the darkening sky. "We'll backtrack up the river to where our man crossed," he announced. "Then we'll make camp for the night and head out again at first light. We're bound to catch him soon."
The forest grew more and more dense as they travelled, with gaps in the leafy canopy created by the toppling of elder trees filling in with thickets of saplings and brush. The sky glimpsed in these gaps was cloudy and threatened rain, but none fell. It was in the morning, only a few hours after breaking camp on the edge of the river that they forced their way along the trail of their illusive quarry as it followed the north face of a large wooded hill. The morning sun had not risen far enough to shine directly on the area, and so it remained both dark and damp. As usual, Karak was guarding the rear with Vade; Ledare, Morier and Ixin were spread out in the center of the line; and Grisham and Feln ranged ahead. The human was looking for signs of passage and the half-orc was on watch for signs of trouble.
Both were quite familiar with their duties, but that morning neither one proved themselves particularly adept at their task.
Grisham knelt on the game trail that the killer had been following since crossing the river and studied the prints while Feln stood behind him watching the surrounding trees intently. Both men could clearly hear the clank and rattle of the others moving through the trees further back on the trail. "Are we gaining ground on him?" the martial artist asked and Grisham grunted softly.
"He's still a day ahead," the man admitted. "At least."
"We're far from help should we run into trouble," Feln observed and Grisham rose to his feet pointing savagely with one of his hand axes back toward the advancing sound of others.
"No one begged for you to come along, half-caste," the barbarian said. "Go back to the village. I can bring this murdering dog to justice without your he-!" The last word he drew out into a cry of surprise as the ground before him on the trail suddenly gave way beneath his feet. Most men would have found themselves at the bottom of the pit concealed beneath the flimsy covering of woven sticks and leaves and earth, but Grisham's reflexes were honed by years of fighting and living in the wilds. Even as he started to fall, he propelled himself forward, across the pit and rolled to a crouch on the other side with his hand axe at the ready.
Feln was impressed. He was scarcely sure that he could have done better. He didn't have time to marvel at Grisham's panther-like reflexes, however as the trees quickly disgorged three creatures that leapt at them without warning. Before Feln could even register that they weren't human, two of the creatures had slashed him solidly with their claws. The third was on the barbarian, but the man's leather armor foiled the attack.
Feln heard Grisham roar defiantly and then the half-orc turned all of his attention on the things flanking him. They were human in general shape although their arms were longer and ape-like and they were covered head to toe in what looked like shaggy green moss. Their faces were unlike anything Feln had ever seen, dominated by a great toothy maw that snapped and slavered below two flashing eyes possessed of an intelligence and vitality that seemed truly alien in so beastial a form.
The half-orc planted his quarterstaff and kicked up into chest of one of the things. For a moment his feet beat out a staccato rhythm against its ribs as he delivered a flurry of blows, then the thing wailed and fell back, clutching at its torso. Its partner however, moved in, its limbs a blur of motion, its teeth snapping at Feln's face. His martial artist training allowed him to avoid all of the attacks almost by instinct alone. He almost managed to avoid all of the injured one's attacks as well, but one lucky claw raked across his shoulder, drawing bloody lines along his back.
Feln brought his quarterstaff around in a mighty two-handed swing that the wounded creature tried to deflect with its forearm. It succeeded to a degree, but the limb still absorbed a substantial amount of the impact and it yelped again in pain. It opened a gash along Feln's ribs in retaliation, but the half-orc quickly discovered that his second opponent suddenly had other things to worry about as Grisham appeared at its flank like a wild-eyed specter.
It turned to face this new foe and left Feln momentarily able to devote his attention to the monster he'd wounded. He swung his quarterstaff at the thing and landed another solid thwap on its torso. It let out a grunt of pain, but it was nothing compared to the shriek that came from the thing facing Grisham.
Both monsters broke off their attacks and made for the trees. Feln's hand went to the shurikens attached to the sash slung across his chest and he sent one after the fleeing creature. It stuck in the monster's thigh but didn't drop the beast. Beside the half-orc, Grisham threw the blood-soaked axe in his hand and planted the blade unerringly into the back of the other creature's skull. It fell out of the tree with a meaty thud.
The entire battle had lasted less than 30 seconds, enough time for Ledare, Morier and Ixin to catch up to them, but not long enough to allow them to lend support. They burst upon the two warriors with weapons brandished ineffectually.
"What happened?" Ixin asked.
"Are you alright?" added Ledare.
Grisham and Feln looked one another over. The half-orc had definitely faired worse; the only mark on the barbarian was a single scratch on his left cheek that oozed crimson. The longsword in the man's right hand dripped gore onto the matted turf. Grisham grunted and turned toward the trees.
"The half-caste could use the dwarf's attention," the man said. "Once I collect my axes we should move on. One of those devils got away. It they lair near here, more may be upon us soon."
Karak thundered up the trail with his axe in hand and bloodlust on his face. His steel-plated shoulders sagged when he saw that the battle had already ended. "Tha' be that!" the dwarf bellowed. "From now on, I be at the front o' the line!"
But Karak got no further opportunity to display his combat prowess on the trail. They passed the remainder of Moonsday and all of Godsday unmolested as they moved into and out of a swampy section of the forest, always in the footsteps of the murderous fugitive. Despite a near-forced march pace they were barely able to keep up with the man, and he showed no signs of slowing down as he plunged further and further into the untamed foothills of the Altan Tepe mountains. The topic of abandoning the chase came up around the campfire, but Grisham was resolute and Morier kept reminding the others of the celestial's prophecy about following a trail to a secret long-hidden.
Even so, spirits were low by the time they reached the end of The Hound's trail.
Grisham stopped short and motioned for the others to halt as well. The area up ahead of him was clearly the sight of a recent battle. The brush had been trampled down, but another large portion of the ground had been churned up as if by some huge burrowing creature. There was a smell of charred things in the air and the barbarian grunted, "Wait here."
Of course, Karak would hear none of it and he followed close at the man's back as Grisham knelt to examine the soil.
"These bootprints match the imposter's," the man announced as he pointed out the chaotic overlay of tracks in the freshly turned earth. "There's blood here. And here. And here." Reinvigorated, Grisham drew his throwing axe and trotted off into the underbrush following the trail with renewed interest.
It became clear to everyone that the trail was heading toward a vast clearing in the trees a few hundred yards ahead. As they approached the clearing, they realized that it was in fact a large, circular valley nearly a mile across, enclosed on all sides by a cliff-face that descended more or less vertically for close to 100 feet to the floor below. The tops of the trees that filled the valley reached nearly to the top of the cliff, and many were covered with an ominous layer of spider webbing. Ledare's breath caught in her chest, and she felt a cold sheen of sweat break out all over her skin although thankfully, none of the huge beasts that must have created the webs were visible at the moment.
"So this be where 'e was a headin'," Karak observed and although there was still no obvious reason behind the killer's flight to this place, the dwarf's conclusion seemed likely none the less.
Vade stepped up beside Ledare and squeezed her hand as firmly as he could. "It'll be all right, Kitten," he reassured the Janissary. "We won't let any spiders get you."
Ledare licked her lips and forced a rubbery smile onto them. "Thank you, Vade," she said. "That means a lot to me." The tremble in her voice suggested otherwise, however.
Grisham was still following the trail when he startled into flight a group of large crows who had been picking at something in the bushes. As the birds flew off over the trees cawing in anger, the barbarian dropped to his knees beside the bushes, a single mournful sob ripping from his throat.
Feln and Morier hustled over to Grisham's side and looked into the bushes through a swarm of slow-moving flies. Therein lay the remains of a man dressed in intricate leather armor. He had apparently died in battle, for a longsword lay near the body and a hand axe was still clutched in one hand. The smell was less than pleasant. The body had been there for more than a day, clearly, for most of the face had been stripped off by the carrion-eating crows, leaving little more than a grisly skull with a graying beard.
But what remained was enough for Grisham to identify the man. "Plonius!" the barbarian wailed. "No!!"
"That is a generous offer. We would appreciate any assistance we can get in tracking this man," Ixin told the elf.
"We don't need any help," Grisham snapped. "He's leaving a trail that a blind man could follow."
"You seem capable. You are already following the path on which our shikar saw him," the elf explained. "And if he indeed pressed on at the rate he was travelling his trail is not long for our territory. Beyond that we will not stray."
"Perhaps we should ask him to help us find this imposter. As Papa used to say, 'A blind squirrel can't find any nuts unless he knows the trees,' Vade asked the others in a voice clearly loud enough for the elf to hear. "We are the blind squirrels, the elves know the trees and together we can find the nut... or The Hound... or the imposter... or-"
"We get it, Vade," Ledare said with a smile. "An escort might help us to gain some time on our man. The elves would know this land better than we do, and might be able to speed us along."
"It would be our pleasure," the elf said with a bow.
"What do you know of the temple of Flor and her followers?" Ixin asked, sidling a step closer to the elf.
"Little, I'm afraid," the elf answered. "I am aware that she is a goddess of healing and mercy, but I was unaware that she had a temple in the human settlement to the north. We leave the woodland but rarely."
"What other news might you share with us of events in your area then?" the drakeling pressed, flashing a gleaming smile. "We are fighting a great evil and often find that events of chaos are connected when they do not seem to be. Any news you are able to give us could help in our fight against evil."
The elf thought for a moment and then shrugged. "The cycles of late have passed with little unexpected trouble for us," he said. "The Deer of Plenty have grown to such numbers that our Wayshepards have bade our hunters thin the herd. Our bellies have been full this season and last. The angler lizards have begun to manifest a red glow rather than blue near the waters of Luc'Elradrielind, but we think it is due in large part to the closeness of Lady Qillaquithe's arcanenexus."
Their new guide went on as they walked, spouting off "news" of the elflands that managed to be at one and the same time both wonderfully magical and mind-numbingly dull. The path he led them along followed the direction they had been travelling and continued on until they reached a wide and deep river that flowed sluggishly along through the forest.
"This river marks the edge of Ten'Venielle lands," the elf announced.
"His trail continues on," Grisham observed after checking the ground closely. He grimaced at the dark water. "It'll be a wet crossing."
"There is a natural ford less than a mile to the south," the elf observed. "The most you will suffer there are wet boots."
Grisham scowled at the elf and then his face softened. "Thank you," he said and started to trot in the indicated direction.
"I hope that you find this murderer you seek," the elf said with complete sincerity.
"Thank you," Ledare said as she passed. "Your help is appreciated."
"May the spirits of my ancestors watch over you on your journey," the elf added as the VQS went off to follow the barbarian.
At the ford, which consisted of a series of partially submerged stepping stones, Grisham shook his head in disgust. "No one with any skill at woodcraft would have crossed where this imposter did," he grumbled. "He's not only a killer, he's a damned fool to boot!"
After they had all made the crossing (some more dryly than others) the barbarian squinted up at the darkening sky. "We'll backtrack up the river to where our man crossed," he announced. "Then we'll make camp for the night and head out again at first light. We're bound to catch him soon."
Moonsday, the 3rd of Reaping, 1269 AE
The forest grew more and more dense as they travelled, with gaps in the leafy canopy created by the toppling of elder trees filling in with thickets of saplings and brush. The sky glimpsed in these gaps was cloudy and threatened rain, but none fell. It was in the morning, only a few hours after breaking camp on the edge of the river that they forced their way along the trail of their illusive quarry as it followed the north face of a large wooded hill. The morning sun had not risen far enough to shine directly on the area, and so it remained both dark and damp. As usual, Karak was guarding the rear with Vade; Ledare, Morier and Ixin were spread out in the center of the line; and Grisham and Feln ranged ahead. The human was looking for signs of passage and the half-orc was on watch for signs of trouble.
Both were quite familiar with their duties, but that morning neither one proved themselves particularly adept at their task.
Grisham knelt on the game trail that the killer had been following since crossing the river and studied the prints while Feln stood behind him watching the surrounding trees intently. Both men could clearly hear the clank and rattle of the others moving through the trees further back on the trail. "Are we gaining ground on him?" the martial artist asked and Grisham grunted softly.
"He's still a day ahead," the man admitted. "At least."
"We're far from help should we run into trouble," Feln observed and Grisham rose to his feet pointing savagely with one of his hand axes back toward the advancing sound of others.
"No one begged for you to come along, half-caste," the barbarian said. "Go back to the village. I can bring this murdering dog to justice without your he-!" The last word he drew out into a cry of surprise as the ground before him on the trail suddenly gave way beneath his feet. Most men would have found themselves at the bottom of the pit concealed beneath the flimsy covering of woven sticks and leaves and earth, but Grisham's reflexes were honed by years of fighting and living in the wilds. Even as he started to fall, he propelled himself forward, across the pit and rolled to a crouch on the other side with his hand axe at the ready.
Feln was impressed. He was scarcely sure that he could have done better. He didn't have time to marvel at Grisham's panther-like reflexes, however as the trees quickly disgorged three creatures that leapt at them without warning. Before Feln could even register that they weren't human, two of the creatures had slashed him solidly with their claws. The third was on the barbarian, but the man's leather armor foiled the attack.
Feln heard Grisham roar defiantly and then the half-orc turned all of his attention on the things flanking him. They were human in general shape although their arms were longer and ape-like and they were covered head to toe in what looked like shaggy green moss. Their faces were unlike anything Feln had ever seen, dominated by a great toothy maw that snapped and slavered below two flashing eyes possessed of an intelligence and vitality that seemed truly alien in so beastial a form.
The half-orc planted his quarterstaff and kicked up into chest of one of the things. For a moment his feet beat out a staccato rhythm against its ribs as he delivered a flurry of blows, then the thing wailed and fell back, clutching at its torso. Its partner however, moved in, its limbs a blur of motion, its teeth snapping at Feln's face. His martial artist training allowed him to avoid all of the attacks almost by instinct alone. He almost managed to avoid all of the injured one's attacks as well, but one lucky claw raked across his shoulder, drawing bloody lines along his back.
Feln brought his quarterstaff around in a mighty two-handed swing that the wounded creature tried to deflect with its forearm. It succeeded to a degree, but the limb still absorbed a substantial amount of the impact and it yelped again in pain. It opened a gash along Feln's ribs in retaliation, but the half-orc quickly discovered that his second opponent suddenly had other things to worry about as Grisham appeared at its flank like a wild-eyed specter.
It turned to face this new foe and left Feln momentarily able to devote his attention to the monster he'd wounded. He swung his quarterstaff at the thing and landed another solid thwap on its torso. It let out a grunt of pain, but it was nothing compared to the shriek that came from the thing facing Grisham.
Both monsters broke off their attacks and made for the trees. Feln's hand went to the shurikens attached to the sash slung across his chest and he sent one after the fleeing creature. It stuck in the monster's thigh but didn't drop the beast. Beside the half-orc, Grisham threw the blood-soaked axe in his hand and planted the blade unerringly into the back of the other creature's skull. It fell out of the tree with a meaty thud.
The entire battle had lasted less than 30 seconds, enough time for Ledare, Morier and Ixin to catch up to them, but not long enough to allow them to lend support. They burst upon the two warriors with weapons brandished ineffectually.
"What happened?" Ixin asked.
"Are you alright?" added Ledare.
Grisham and Feln looked one another over. The half-orc had definitely faired worse; the only mark on the barbarian was a single scratch on his left cheek that oozed crimson. The longsword in the man's right hand dripped gore onto the matted turf. Grisham grunted and turned toward the trees.
"The half-caste could use the dwarf's attention," the man said. "Once I collect my axes we should move on. One of those devils got away. It they lair near here, more may be upon us soon."
Karak thundered up the trail with his axe in hand and bloodlust on his face. His steel-plated shoulders sagged when he saw that the battle had already ended. "Tha' be that!" the dwarf bellowed. "From now on, I be at the front o' the line!"
Godsday the 4th and Waterday the 6th of Reaping, 1269 AE
But Karak got no further opportunity to display his combat prowess on the trail. They passed the remainder of Moonsday and all of Godsday unmolested as they moved into and out of a swampy section of the forest, always in the footsteps of the murderous fugitive. Despite a near-forced march pace they were barely able to keep up with the man, and he showed no signs of slowing down as he plunged further and further into the untamed foothills of the Altan Tepe mountains. The topic of abandoning the chase came up around the campfire, but Grisham was resolute and Morier kept reminding the others of the celestial's prophecy about following a trail to a secret long-hidden.
Even so, spirits were low by the time they reached the end of The Hound's trail.
Grisham stopped short and motioned for the others to halt as well. The area up ahead of him was clearly the sight of a recent battle. The brush had been trampled down, but another large portion of the ground had been churned up as if by some huge burrowing creature. There was a smell of charred things in the air and the barbarian grunted, "Wait here."
Of course, Karak would hear none of it and he followed close at the man's back as Grisham knelt to examine the soil.
"These bootprints match the imposter's," the man announced as he pointed out the chaotic overlay of tracks in the freshly turned earth. "There's blood here. And here. And here." Reinvigorated, Grisham drew his throwing axe and trotted off into the underbrush following the trail with renewed interest.
It became clear to everyone that the trail was heading toward a vast clearing in the trees a few hundred yards ahead. As they approached the clearing, they realized that it was in fact a large, circular valley nearly a mile across, enclosed on all sides by a cliff-face that descended more or less vertically for close to 100 feet to the floor below. The tops of the trees that filled the valley reached nearly to the top of the cliff, and many were covered with an ominous layer of spider webbing. Ledare's breath caught in her chest, and she felt a cold sheen of sweat break out all over her skin although thankfully, none of the huge beasts that must have created the webs were visible at the moment.
"So this be where 'e was a headin'," Karak observed and although there was still no obvious reason behind the killer's flight to this place, the dwarf's conclusion seemed likely none the less.
Vade stepped up beside Ledare and squeezed her hand as firmly as he could. "It'll be all right, Kitten," he reassured the Janissary. "We won't let any spiders get you."
Ledare licked her lips and forced a rubbery smile onto them. "Thank you, Vade," she said. "That means a lot to me." The tremble in her voice suggested otherwise, however.
Grisham was still following the trail when he startled into flight a group of large crows who had been picking at something in the bushes. As the birds flew off over the trees cawing in anger, the barbarian dropped to his knees beside the bushes, a single mournful sob ripping from his throat.
Feln and Morier hustled over to Grisham's side and looked into the bushes through a swarm of slow-moving flies. Therein lay the remains of a man dressed in intricate leather armor. He had apparently died in battle, for a longsword lay near the body and a hand axe was still clutched in one hand. The smell was less than pleasant. The body had been there for more than a day, clearly, for most of the face had been stripped off by the carrion-eating crows, leaving little more than a grisly skull with a graying beard.
But what remained was enough for Grisham to identify the man. "Plonius!" the barbarian wailed. "No!!"
Jon Potter
First Post
Rogues Gallery update
I finally found the time to post some updated stats for all the PCs in the Rogue Gallery . The pictures now have some stats associated with them.
I finally found the time to post some updated stats for all the PCs in the Rogue Gallery . The pictures now have some stats associated with them.
Similar Threads
