Intro Posts for the Heroes of the Realms

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hedgeknight
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Re: Intro Post > Orn & Oggle

#41 Post by hedgeknight »

Nokrugh has already got one leg free from the bench and he's pulling his second out from under the table when the barbarians, upon hearing the fate of their king, break out in a riotous raucus. It only takes a moment, and then Nokughs face goes blank and he's staring at nothingness. Despite the riot going on around him he does not move, as if in a trance.

Pollard drops his head and swallows hard, and then he looks back up at Gundar and says, "I know of none, my king."

The admition from Pollard brings the room to a dead somber silence. Nokrugh looks to Pollard, Gundar and then back to Pollard and in the dead of the silence remembers....

"Briars Shoe" he says, just loud enough to be heard, but it seems to echo off the walls for ever.

Now THIS is a party Darlond says with only a trace of irony....

"So my comrades, before this party goes to the nine hells, how shall we proceed"

Thurgrum, still a bit taken back by the current turn of events sits quietly in his seat wiping at the ale dripping from his beard as the silence begins to stretch when Nokrugh mutters, 'Briars Shoe'.....

Thurgrum raises one eyebrow and peers at Nokrugh sideways and then leans over to Darlond and quietly says 'That's a strange curse for sure.. and what's a shoe have to do with any of this?'

"Not a shoe, a plant. Our village had encountered skin-changers and my father, being cautious as he was, did not want to risk getting any members of our war troop infected durring a skirmish. I remember one of the Shamans saying that he could treat such an infection with a plant called Briars Shoe. I was too young to join in the fray that ensued, but I don't recall any tales of our warriors turning into were-creatures."

Nokrugh turns to Pollard, "If you have an herbalist and we act quickly, perhaps there's a chance we can stave off the affliction which curses mighty Gundar. Of course, we'll also need to know where to find such a plant, it may be that it only grows in the region I came from and if that's the case time may be our greatest enemy."

Ahh I see, I believe I have heard of such but I have no memory of finding any lore in regards to it's like or where it can be found. Thurgrum looks thoughtfully at the King 'We only have seven days before the King succumbs. With a look at back at his friends 'Also, there is the possibility of another attack on this town and if werewolves they be, then I fear we may be overmatched!
Thurgrum turns to Pollard, 'Aye there is not moment to be lost, we must find a description and a source!'

Doarlond nods, "yes, you saved my lives from the wolves, the least I can do is try to find this plant, give us the info and we will be on our way in haste!"

King Gundar and the rest of his guests regard the three strangers to their feast with undisguised stares of disbelief. Pollard finally says, "Briar's Shoe?" His voice quavers and he repeats the name again, this time stronger. "That sounds like, no offense mind, but that sounds like a dwarven term for an elvish plant which means "briar's shoe" - it's name is elfen-slipper. A prickly plant with tubular blooms. I've never seen it, but it is said to grow only in elven lands."
"And where is the closest elven land, Pollard?" the king says, still looking at the three strangers.

"That would be the wild elves of Neverwinter Woods, my king." Pollard says, his face taking on a gleam of hope.

"And how far are the Neverwinter Woods from Grunwald, Pollard?"

"Three days, my king, perhaps four."

The king crosses his arms and paces on the table. And then he says, "And what would you three require to make this journey?"

King Gundar, all I would require would be some feed for my mule and I will be off, there is no time to be wasted. This curse cannot be allowed to spread. Ye and yer kin have been nothing but friendly and I know Moradin would make my beard fall out if I did not do what must be done!

Thurgrum reaches down to grab the iron hammer and anvil hanging at his neck. "Moradin grant us a quick journey..."
He then looks to Darlond and Nokrugh, 'What say both of ye? To the Neverwinter Woods?'

Looking at the two dwarves Nokrugh announces "Where they go, I go. However, let clearer heads prevail here. Three to four days travel each way?", Nokrugh says then turning back again to Ponder and Kundar, "and entering Elven territory he finishes with a sigh; that would be quite the feat."

Pacing back and forth among the crowd of barbarians Nokrugh gathers his thoughts. "We'll require your fastest horses and a weeks rations. We'll also need scouts, preferably those familiar with the route to Neverwinter woods. Ponder, if you have a skilled herbalist who'll be able to identify where this elf slipper grows, and who can identify it we'll require that as well." Nokrugh then looks toward Gundar and states, "You'll come with us. Weather being what it is may slow our journey and we may not make it back in time. Your presense will grant us precious days to find what we need and to concoct a cure."

"We should leave within the hour."

Several of the barbarians at the feast take offense at the indignation of Nokrugh's words, a few even drawing steel, calling for his tongue. But King Gundar bursts into laughter, which certainly confuses just about everyone in the room.
"You have iron balls for a half-breed," the king says, stepping off the table and walking over to where Nokrugh, Thurgrum, and Darlond stand. "And iron might be what it takes to see this through. I thank ye for going on this mission. As king, I cannot come with you, but there is one who will go. Adain, my nephew - he will accompany you."

Image
Adain is a the burly barbarian you met in the tavern earlier and the one who escorted you to the feast. It makes sense he should go. "You will have everything you need within the hour," the king announces. "You'll need to travel fast. Pollard, the Neverwinter Woods is large - where should they go?"
Pollard thinks about that for a moment and then says, "I do not know, my king, but I will consult the Oak Father for an answer. You shall know before they leave."

The king nods and Pollard leaves the feast hall. Gundar regards each of you, his eyes measuring your worth. "You will not fail in this, but it may take you longer than we have. When you return, I may be...beyond reason, but you will do whatever is necessary for the survival of this clan. Promise me on the gods you hold sacred."
He lays a hand on Darlond's shoulder. "You and your people have traded with the Thunderbeasts for years - I trust you to see this through. And to keep my hard-headed nephew in line."
The king glances at Adain who is sulking and chuckles. "Now, go get what you need. Adain, help them with anything they require."

Suddenly, there is a commotion at the entrance to the feast hall, and two barbarian guards hurry inside, each covered in a dusting of snow. "My king, we have strangers on the perimeter of the village. And the beast they ride...it may be a...dragon."


Thurgrum looks at Darlond, 'A good day?! HAR! This is surely madness. Did they say 'may be a Dragon'?!
Thurgrum leaping upon a table grabs hold of the Symbol of Moradin hanging at his breast with his right hand, and with is warhammer raised high in his left bellows, 'WE MUST GO FORTH PREPARED AND AS A GROUP! WE MUST STAY TOGETHER TO FACE THIS NEW THREAT! NOW GATHER 'ROUND AND LET THE BLESSING OF MORADIN RALLY AND FORTIFY ALL OF YE!!'

Seeing his companions and barbarian warriors gathering close Thugrum begins the chant for his Bless spell....

Nokrugh steps to Gundar and proceeds to challenge the wisdom of his decision to stay behind in a most matter-of-fact tone when suddenly, there is a commotion at the entrance to the feast hall, and two barbarian guards hurry inside, each covered in a dusting of snow.

"My king, we have strangers on the perimeter of the village. And the beast they ride...it may be a...dragon."

"Illneval!" Nokrugh exclaims as he pushes past the barbarians crowded around the tables. Walking right past the guards at the front door he pushes out into the blizzard to get a better look.

The three of you hurry outside once again in the cold snowy night to the outer perimeter of the town. As you arrive, you see a small ragged group of men approaching in the firelight - wounded and dying men it appears. And strangely, among the men are two dwarves. One is wounded and being carried by two of the men. The other wears the same clothing as the other men and you could have sworn as you approached, you heard his rough dwarven voice ask for assistance for his men.

But then King Gundar pushes his way through to the front, along with several of the warrior-priests of Tyr. Stopping a few feet from the new arrivals he says, "Riders of Nesme, eh? I see your colors. I am Gundar Brontoskin - King of the Thunderbeasts - my men tell me ye rode in on a dragon? Where be the beast?"

Running up with his companions Thurgrum looks around wildly for the 'Dragon' and upon hearing that they are not under attack begins to relax until he sees all of the wounded. He is surprised to see two more of his Kin, one with the pallor of death or near death and the other bathed in blood but still walking. Approaching the blood soaked Dwarf who is speaking with King Gundar, Thurgrum says 'My healing powers are almost exhausted, I will do what I can to help.'

Thurgrum makes his way among the wounded and uses his last CLW on whomever needs it most. Thugrum then will follow these new comers and the King as they make their way inside.

Oggle eyes the dwarf curiously Strange to see so many dwarves outside of their holes lately. I hope I can speak with him.....but first I must focus and make sure this meeting with the chief goes well Oggle thinks quietly as he awaits the chieftain's response.

Seeing all the injured riders, Nokrugh lends assistance however he can whether it's bandaging wounds or helping carry the wounded to shelter. He is curious as to what exactly has transpired, and wonders what in the name of Illneval are all these dwarves doing here! As he goes about his business he talks quietly to himself amidst the howling winds and snow.

"Ah father, you mentioned my companions would be...interesting, but dwarves? And so many!" he finishes with a chuckle and slight shaking of his head. Continuing his work, nothing seems to bother him, not the wind, the snow or the falling evening temperatures.
Winter is coming...

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Re: Intro Posts for the Heroes of the Realms

#42 Post by hedgeknight »

Intro Post > Darkstar & Tarrin
(Originally posted from January 11 - February 11, 2013)

1358 DR – The Year of Shadows

Darkstar was born and raised in the High Forest, in the shadows of the Lost Peaks. He was named after a disappearing star on the night of his birth and was trained to be an archer even as a boy. He came from a long line of Wood Elven archers and he took to the livelihood proudly. His bow was a part of him and he was never without it and he liked to hunt and scout alone.
Scouting along the edge of the forest took him far away from his clan’s camp. And when he returned late that evening, he was struck from behind and knocked unconscious. He awoke sore and bloodied the next morning and stumbled back to camp…only to find it had been razed and everyone in it slain. He tried to track and find the attackers, but was unable to do so. Devastated, he wandered alone and aimless through the forest and out into the Realms, meandering north, avoiding most towns and cities.
After months of wandering alone, his sharp eyes spied another forest with similar mountainous tops far to the northwest. He knew of the woods, and had one day hoped to visit with his family. Neverwinter Woods held about as many secrets as the High Forest although it was but a tenth of the size. And the ever-smoking volcano, Mount Hotenow was said to have a gateway to the fabled plane of elemental fire deep within its bowels.
None of that mattered to Darkstar – he just wanted to lose himself in the forest, any forest, for a time. Along the northern edge, he found a secluded glade sheltered by large oaks with interlocking branches. The remnants of a stone archway, thick with vines and moss, stood near the back of the glade while a stream trickled nearby.
Suddenly, a high-pitched keening comes from the archway which begins to shimmer and glow with a bluish light. The keening increases in volume and the light glows more brilliantly, ending in a blinding flash…and a man stumbles out of the archway and into the glade…

Tarrin Woodsmith was born into a large family of some of the best bowyers and fletchers in the Dalelands. His home was Highcastle and even though he had prepared to spend his life there, his budding talent for arcane magic, soon brought him into contact with a man who would change his life forever.
Kereleth the Windblown “blew” into town but unlike all of the other traveling wizards who passed through the Dales, Kereleth was a master of the twisted side of the Weave known as “wild magic.” And the unpredictability of this branch of magic, with its inherent danger but yet potential brilliance, fascinated Tarrin and he became Kereleth’s student for a brief time.
Kereleth moved on and Tarrin continued to nurse his growing power, and he likely would have done so for the rest of his life unhindered…except for the arrival of the Zhentarim. The Zhentarim invasion, while at first covert and secretive, soon became more and more overt, with entire families and “dissenters” rounded up and hung.
Fearing for the safety of his family, Tarrin attacked a young Zhentish mage, winning his first battle, but barely surviving. Fleeing west into the dale, he ran for two days, barely staying ahead of his Zhent pursuers. He knew he was going to die, but at least he had led them away from his family. So, he turned to cast his final spell…but something went wrong…or perhaps something went right. For when the dale twisted around him, spinning him into a morass of chaos, and when the world righted itself again, he stumbled out into a forest glade sheltered by towering oaks.
Across the glade, staring at him in wonder, was a wiry wood elf, bow drawn, ready to fire…

Out of the frying pan, into the fire, Tarrin thought, trying hard not to grumble aloud. At least he was still alive. That was more than he'd expected when he'd made his evening stand.

Evening. He glanced up. The sun was still high in the sky. He'd come a long way west indeed. Out of the reach of the Zhents, hopefully. That didn't mean he couldn't get stuck full of arrows by a random elf, however. Raising an empty hand, he called out in elven, "Sweet water, friend. I mean you no harm. And, ah, could you tell me where I am?"

Darkstar, still a bit startled by the sudden appearance of the man, replies without lowering his bow.
Hail. You are in Neverwinter Woods. Who are you and how did you get here?

"Tarrin Woodsmith, of the High Dale," Tarrin replied. "I was being chased by Zhents and..." he shrugged. "Things got complicated."
Darkstar lowers his bow and relaxes the arrow. Indeed.
He looks at the man carefully. You are free of those following you, what will you do now?
"Go back, eventually," Tarrin shrugged. "It's a long, long walk from here, though, if I remember my maps, and I barely got out alive the first time. Better perhaps to wander some out here, I think, and gather allies and experience, so I can do some good when I get back.

He looked at the elf appraisingly. "And what of you, friend elf? Who are you, and what brings you to these parts?"
"I am Darkstar." he says with a grim look on his face. "I am here only because I am not there.... my village.... it is gone."
He takes a look around the area before meeting Tarrin's eye.
"You should seek a town to get your bearings, the wilds are not forgiving. I can point you in the right direction if you need it.

Tarrin's face set in grim lines. "My sympathies for your village. I'm hoping I don't find exactly the same when I return. The Zhents were there to conquer the High Dale, but they didn't seem to be too picky about how many they killed in the doing."

He visibly forced himself away from that thought and even managed a small smile. "Considering that I've never been further west than Copper Gulp, I could certainly use a pointer. And perhaps a guide, if you have no pressing business."

Darkstar nods at Tarrin's words.
I will offer prayer for your village. He turns to look towards the sun while thinking.
We could go north to Luksan but that takes you farther away and less likely to get transportation to the East. Neverwinter should hold more promise and if not Waterdeep if necessary.
He looks at Tarrin We should head south. There is a town along the way we could stop at and you can get what you need there. I can take you there at least.

"Works for me. Lead on." Tarrin pulled his long bow from his back and checked the string, then did the same with his backpack. He'd never been to the Sword Coast, but he'd heard stories. While he doubted an orc horde was over the next hill, it didn't do to be unprepared.
Darkstar starts walking in the direction of Port Llast (unless the DM decides otherwise).
When he sees his companion ready his longbow he shows the most emotion to date and gets a bit excited.
Ahhh you study the bow? I would love to shoot against you. You have the benefit of range but
I think I can still show you what a short bow can do.


Tarrin smiled. "Everyone in the High Dale practices with the bow. It's practically the emblem of the entire Dalelands. I've seen both in action, and there's nothing quite like having one at hand when trouble looms." Indeed, he'd spent the morning exchanging shots with the pursuing Zhents. His smile faded. He'd killed for the first time with it yesterday.

Darkstar sees the snow falling harder and harder. We need to make a decision fast, carry on or shelter and fire.

Tarrin had been eying the snow as well. "I'm from the mountains; I know you don't sing and dance when it's snowing. And I'm not exactly dressed for a Savage North winter." He nodded back to the forest. "Take shelter in there? If we go deep enough the trees should keep the worst off of us, and I've heard it's always warmer inside a forest. When it's snowing, at least."

Deciding to seek shelter, the two of you move deeper into the woods, and you don't have to go too far to get out of the wind where a thick stand of pines butt up against a rocky hillock. There is an overhang offering protection and plenty of pine straw for tinder. In little time, you are out of the snow (which is coming down in buckets) and have a small fire going...

Glad more than ever that he'd grabbed his backpack full of supplies before beginning his flight, Tarrin warily eyed the snow coming down. "We should get more wood under cover before the snow wets it beyond use." He glanced around. "I wish I'd brought a tent."
Darkstar smiles for the first time of the day. A tent? I have slept under the stars most days or a shelter such of this for the few others. But you are right about the wood. I will gather some.

He ventures out to grab some additional fire wood to bring under the boughs of the tree being careful not to get himself too wet.

Darkstar finds a nice armload of dried limbs under the pines. With his arms full, he is about to return to the cave, which he can see easily with the campfire illuminating it. And then his sharp ears hear something...a snapped twig, barely perceptible. He looks away from the campfire, allowing his eyes to adjust to the encroaching darkness of the forest, and he spies three figures creeping through the woods, heading for the overhang and Tarrin.

He puts down the wood as quietly as possible and nocks an arrow. He feels the familiar sense of detachment as he readies himself to fire.
He waits a moment to see any clue of the approaching groups intentions before firing.

Darkstar nocks an arrow and peers closely at the encroaching figures and then he hears, "Easy cousin...wouldn't want you to shoot one of my companions. Turn slowly, very slowly."
The voice is in Elven and is speaking the Wood Elven dialect.

(Assuming you comply...) Darkstar turns slowly to see another cloaked figure, holding a shortsword and a dagger. Two other figures, one kneeling, one standing are a few feet further back, both with arrows ready to fire at him.

"That's better...didn't want to have to kill you, although it would be perfectly within my right since you are trespassing...and starting fires."
The speaker sheathes his dagger and pulls back his hood. "I am Tohmal - who are you?"
Winter is coming...

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Re: Intro Posts for the Heroes of the Realms

#43 Post by hedgeknight »

Darkstar lowers his bow and turns to look at the speaker.
Trespassing? Who can own a tree? Who can own a rock?
He looks directly at Tohmal without showing concern for the arrows pointed at him.
I am Darkstar. My companion and I were passing through when the cold caught us needing shelter. Our fire burns to keep life in us not take it from the forest.
He glances at the others behind Tohmal
Now either kill me or lower your arrows. My clan awaits me in the afterlife I would not have them wait longer then necessary.

Tohmal nods, "Fine, kill him."

But before the archers can fire, another voice cuts in. "Enough Tohmal - we do not kill all trespassers in the Wood."

Image

The voice comes from above as another wood elf nimbly drops from the thick branches to land nearly without a sound near Darkstar. "Pay no attention to my brother - he's just trying to impress his friends." The latest wood elf is a girl...or a young woman for an Elf. Tohmal begins to rebuke her, but she glares at him and says, "Back off, or I will report you to Celadon. He already has his eye on you."

Tohmal huffs and turns away, stomping off into the woods. His friends ease up on their bows with a look from the girl and she turns and says, "I am Minneset, but most call me Min. Do you have anything to cook on that fire?"
She pulls two rabbits out of her pack and says, "Let's go - I'm hungry and I would like to ask your friend some questions."

It takes less than a minute to make it back to the overhang shelter, and no doubt Tarrin is a bit taken back when he sees Darkstar return with not one wood elf, but a half dozen. "I am Min and these are my companions - we are servants of the Lady of the Forest. Who are you and why are you here in the Wood?"

She tosses two rabbits to one of the other wood elves and then squats down near the fire to warm her hands and await a reply.

Tarrin raised and eyebrow at Min. At least she wasn't one of those elves who seemed intent to either tie you up or tire you out with their words.

"Grace of Mystra and Tymora," he said. "I am Tarrin Woodsmith, of the High Dale, southernmost of the Dalelands, and signatory to the Dales Pact with Cormanthor. I was fleeing the Zhentarim who conquered my home, and my magic warped. He shrugged. "It dumped me out here. Darkstar saw me arrive."

"What do you mean...your magic warped? When and where did you arrive?" Min asks, glancing at her two companions dressing the rabbits as if willing them to hurry.

Darkstar sighs softly when the arrows don't fly.
Shade and water Min. I am Darkstar of the High Forest. It is as Tarrin says, he arrived through a stone archway in a glade sheltered by large oaks. I can take you to the spot if you wish it.
He looks around the group
I have come to the forest to lose myself here, our meeting was by chance.

"Thank you," Tarrin said to Darkstar. Swiveling his head back to Min, he added, "I mean what I said. My magic is unpredictable. It's often more powerful than I anticipate, but every now and then it twists out of my control. First time it's ever sent me clear across the continent, though.

At the mention of the glade and the stone arch, Min and Tohmal look at each other and the other wood elves also exchange nervous glances. "Um...did you notice any...anyone else in the glade?" Min asks, looking back and forth at Tarrin and Darkstar. A wood elf hands her a "naked" rabbit which she promptly skewers with a sharpened stick and hangs it over the fire.

Darkstar's brow furrows at the question. No. I would have seen or heard anyone but perhaps another elf in the wood, and only one who makes their home there at that. He looks at Min and then Tohmal carefully. Clearly you know of the archway, what or who else were you expecting us to see?

"The guardian, of course," Tohmal says, watching the fat from the rabbit drip and sizzle on the fire. "She rarely leaves the glade and when she does, she doesn't go far. I wonder why she never..."

He breaks off after a look from Min who adds the second spitted rabbit over the fire. Without looking back she says, "Redden, take Orren and check the glade for the guardian. You know what she likes. I'll save you some rabbit."

Two of the wood elves break away and quickly disappear into the darkness of the wood. The snow continues to fall as the rabbits cook and Min asks another question, "Where are you two going after tonight? Are you planning on wandering the Wood or are you heading cross-country? I wonder if the archway could work again?"

I agreed to guide Tarrin to a town, I was thinking Port Llast. From there he could follow the High Road to Neverwinter or beyond to Waterdeep. Darkstar stares into the flames. For myself I have no plans.

"I need to return to the High Dale," Tarrin said immediately. "But I need to do so with a chance of doing some good. The best I could do for my friends and family this time was die. I want to be stronger, more experienced, before I go back again." He shrugged and smiled. "So I suppose you could say my next destination is adventure. Know any?"

Min is about to reply when a loud screeching sound echoes through the forest...coming from the direction of the glade.
"The guardian!" Tohmal shouts, and takes off at a run. Min jumps up and motions for the other wood elves to follow him.
"The glade is a good 150 yards from here. Come or not, I'm going with my brother!" Min says, dashing away.
The rabbit sizzles on the fire while you decide what to do...

"You know," Tarrin remarked to no one in particular as he jumped up, shouldered his pack and bow, and grabbed the cooked rabbit, "I didn't expect to find adventure quite this quickly."

He ate as he ran as best he could, gnawing hunks of rabbit meat off with his teeth while he held the spit with his hands. It had been a long and draining day after all, and it seemed that it wasn't over yet.
Darkstar jumps up when he hears the screeching. He quickly follows the other elves to the clearing moving swiftly but following their lead.

Rushing into the clearing, the screeching gets louder, intermingled with a scream of agony. It is dark, but there is a shimmering light coming from several of the trees in the glade - some type of phosphorous plant or moss you guess. But you don't have time to think about that - standing in the glade is a huge creature you've only heard about in stories.
Image

The owlbear has its beak buried in the stomach of one of the wood elves, but upon your arrival, it screeches and tosses the body aside easily. It tramples over the dead body of the other wood elf scout...as it charges!
Winter is coming...

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Re: Intro Posts for the Heroes of the Realms

#44 Post by hedgeknight »

Glade Battle 1

Initiative Order:
Darkstar (1), Tarrin (5), Wood elves (7), Owlbear (8)


Entering the glade, Darkstar moves quickly as his decades of practice take over. With a blur he draws and fires three arrows in quick succession at the Owlbear. The first arrow misses the creature's head by mere inches, but the next two strike deep (D9 total) and the owlbear screeches in pain.

Tarrin followed close on Darkstar's heels and knew what he was going to do almost immediately upon seeing the owlbear. Leaving aside his bow for the moment he quickly ran through the motions of his wildest spell. Once before a surge had sent him spinning through all of Faerun. He could hardly wait to see what it would do this time.
Invoking his magic, Tarrin attempted to summon a magic missile spell. Instead, the burst of raw magic coalesced into a sickly greenish cloud that covered the owlbear. Even from this distance he could smell its awful rank.

The wood elves who were about to rush the creature, began backpedaling so fast, they nearly fell over themselves. But that didn't stop Min from shouting orders to lay into the beast. Three of the wood elves hurled spears at the owlbear, but only one spear did any damage, and that was minimal (D2).

"Bows!" Tohmal yells, firing and firing again, his second shot burying up to the fletching in the creature's stomach (D6).

Min stands and watches, mesmerized that the owlbear is still standing and that the greenish reeking cloud has confused it so much...

Stats:
Owlbear - down 17 hp; suffering effects of Stinking Cloud
Stinking Cloud duration:
1d4+1 → [2,1] = (3)


Glade Battle 2
Initiative Order:
Darkstar (1), Tarrin (5), Wood elves (7), Owlbear (8)



Wounded and crazed by the stinking cloud, the owlbear goes insane - thrashing and charging blindly into the forest. The wood elves pepper it with arrows, but only one shaft gets through its thick hide (D6). Darkstar manages to graze its head as it turns to flee (D1) and Tarrin fires arrows as well, but none find their mark.

"It's getting away!" Tohmal says, firing again and again, but missing terribly, his arrows deflected and broken by the trees. But Darkstar calmly moves to within a line of sight, estimated an opening ahead, and fires a killing shot, driving an arrow into the back of the beast's neck. It screeches and falls hard, twitching in death.

All is quiet in the glade again after a few seconds - the only sounds you hear are the trickle of the stream and the heavy breathing of the archers as the adrenaline from battle begins to fade. Min, having not even drawn a weapon during the battle, walks over to the dead wood elves and begins to arrange their clothes as best she can. Blood is everywhere and for one of the dead, its entrails are strewn out across several feet from being thrown aside.

Tohmal walks over to a huge oak tree near the stone archway. The ancient sentinel appears to be dying - its bark has turned a sickly gray and several of its new spring leaves lie on the forest floor brown and moldy.
"I don't understand...where is the guardian? This is her oak - she would never have left it unattended for this to happen." He says, indicating the dead leaves.

Darkstar first moves to collect as many of his arrows as he can recover. (I count 6 fired, do I roll for recovery? He also will only use even his own arrows that are in excellent condition) As he works he nods approvingly at Tarrin Your spell saved more lives. The beast was too distracted to attack once your magic went to work. Well done.
After he recovers his arrows Darkstar moves to help Min with the bodies. (How many wood elves are left?) As they set about the grim task he says quietly to Min, We must talk, what was your guardian guarding? You need to contact your elders and get their council quickly.
"Her name is Roselynn, but we call her Rosie," Min says quietly, standing from the body of one of the dead wood elves. Her hands are covered in blood and her face is pale. "Rosie has guarded this glade since...well, Celadon could tell you, but for more years than I have been walking the Realms. But I don't understand what could have happened to her! Something or someone must have taken her away."

"That's crazy talk," Tohmal chimes in, suddenly the voice of authority. "Her ability to charm anyone would prevent her capture. Plus, she knows this glade and the surrounding region very well. She would have known..."

"What would she have known, Tohmal?" Min erupts. "What would she have known? What if we are missing something here? What if she was captured by some...thing that could not be charmed?"
The siblings break off into a heated argument while the rest of the wood elves help with their dead companions.

Darkstar yells at the siblings Arguing now is the measure of fools!! What is done is done, the guardian is gone!! If he has their attention he lowers his voice and continues Let us seek clues at to what has happened but first someone must alert your elders. Send someone to report to this Celadon you mentioned earlier while we search the area for signs of what may happened to your guardian.
He looks at the carnage left behind. The chance of the Owlbear being here just after the guardian disappears seems too coincidental. Let us be on alert until we know more.

"That's what I'm here for," Tarrin said with a shrug and a smile. Best not to mention that the stinking cloud had been an accident. A few years back he'd seen a troupe of bards put on a comedic play, where a bunch of bumbling soldiers tried to rescue their leader from the noose. At the climax, one of them shot an arrow and neatly split the noose just as the trap door was opening. A brilliant shot, until the man later confessed, "I was aiming for the hangman."

Hilarious in a play. Less so in real life.

As he listened to the arguing elves, he began to make some connections. "A dryad, eh?" he murmured, heading closer to the oak tree. So the dryad was gone and the tree dying, but not dead. For once regretting that he'd spent his life in the shop, rather than the fields and forests, he began to examine the tree.

Tarrin's examination of the ancient oak reveals that is has just begun to die...it is long from being fully dead. This would suggest that the dryad's disappearance is very recent. He also finds traces of blood, not only on the bark of the tree, but spots among the leaves...blood that is tinted green. He also finds some odd spoor, none that he has seen before.
"A scuffle definitely took place around this tree," Tarrin says. "I've found some blood, some unusual scat, and well, look here!" He bends over, moves some leaves and debris out of the way near the base of the oak, and retrieves an intricately ornate dagger. It has a slim pommel and a slightly curved blade, likely crafted for a woman's use.

While Tarrin examines the dagger, Darkstar approaches and searches out from the tree...and makes a grisly discovery > it is the body of another wood elf. The body is partially consumed and has been covered in a fashion that suggests it was being buried. Claw marks along its body and around the area give hints to the owlbear's involvement somehow.

At Darkstar's discovery, Min and Tohmal quickly come to investigate and Min almost immediately says, "That is not an elf of our clan. He is of the Lynx clan - the clan of the Crags, as they refer to themselves. Their camp is no more than a half-days travel from here."
"That would explain the spoor. Likely one of the giant lynxes they keep as totems and guards. But why would the Lynx clan capture Rosie?" Tohmal asks, frowning in confusion.

Min shakes her head. "I don't know, but by the Lady I plan to find out!"
She gives orders to the other three wood elves to travel and find Celadon and tell him what has gone on and what they have found...and where they are going. They have wrapped their dead clan members in cloaks and will carry them away from the glade. Once the three elves are gone, Min washes her hands and face in the stream and then turns to the others.

"Tohmal and I are going to the Lynx camp - we are going to retrieve Rosie...or avenge her if we can! I've only know you, Tarrin and Darkstar, for a few hours. You're welcome to come with us and help, but I can't guarantee your safety. Will you come?"


Tarrin:
The dagger is very light and you believe it to be magical in nature.
Tarrin nodded, sliding the dagger into his belt for safekeeping. "I'll go. Though before we confront the Lynx I would prefer to have a chance to rest and regain my spells. He smiled sourly. "Without them I'm just an archer, and you have plenty of those.
Darkstar looks at Tarrin then at Min and Tohmal. I have already agreed to guide Tarrin onward. I will help you if he allows it, if not I will aid him as agreed. He turns to Tarrin and awaits his answer.

"The longer we delay, the less chance we may have of saving Rosie," Min replies to Tarrin, as she checks her gear and readies to move out. "How much time do you need to...regain a spell or two? I know little of magic and its...rules."

"He is right - we need some rest before we do this - all of us are spent." Tohmal argues. "His spells could prove the difference."

Min is obviously torn, but then agrees. "Take a couple of hours if you need them - I'll keep watch."

"I'd be grateful for your company, and your sure eye," Tarrin told Darkstar without hesitation. The elf had already proven his competence as far as he was concerned, and if he needed a bit of a nudge into heroics, well, he supposed that was also what he was here for.

While Tarrin is trying to decide whether to rest or hit the trail, Tohmal stands from the body of the dead wood elf from the Lynx clan and says, "Found something that might help."
He hands Tarrin a scroll case, and even though it is covered with the blood of the elf, the cap on it is secure, the contents unspoiled. Tarrin gently removes the scroll inside to reveal three sheets of vellum, each containing a single spell > Armor, Magic Missile, and Wall of Fog.

"Now, can we get going?" Min says, not waiting for an answer as she moves out. Tohmal winks at Tarrin and falls in behind his sister.

While the others figure out whether to rest or not Darkstar looks over his equiptment. He carefully unstrings his bow and wipes it down. After cleaning the bow itsself he checks the bow string for defects and re strings it. He takes the quiver of arrows recovered from the other wood elves and carefully inspects each one. Out of the 20 he finds only 4 suitable. He then takes the arrows he deemed unsuitable and cuts free the arrowheads and saves them in a small belt pouch. He then carefully cuts free the fletching from the arrows and keeps the feathered parts in another pouch. He fills the second quiver with the 4 arrows and straps it on.
Satisfied with his preparations he falls in line.

"Thanks, Tohmal," Tarrin says, then sighed. "Well, don't expect me to be much use when we get there if you won't let me rest," he calls after Min. Setting the scrolls carefully aside, he went trotting after the elves.

Min and Tohmal push hard, moving south west, curving ever closer to the Crags. The rest of the night is a blur of travel and exhausted muscles, with few breaks for water or a quick bite. Morning finds your group running along a ridge overlooking a valley forested with hardwoods and cedar. The air is cold and there snow trickles down through the trees as winter tries to hold on just a little longer.
Min stops and waves the rest of you to her position, under the boughs of a wild apple tree, its blossoms just beginning to show. She points down in the valley and says, "The Lynx tribe has several huts hidden in the trees down there - they prefer the canopy of trees to the forest floor. My guess is they have patrols and guards concealed in the trees."
"So, what's the plan? How do we get Rosie?" Tohmal asks.

"Well, I don't have a plan - I was just going to walk down there and demand they return her." Min replies, avoiding the incredulous looks from her companions.

"You're joking!" Tohmal hisses, waving his arms wildly. "How can you possibly think they will let us just walk in and take Rosie?"

"I can assure you, we won't."
Tarrin flinches as if stung, and Darkstar turns his head slowly to see that they are not the only persons on the ridge this morning. Standing several feet from them are two wood elves...and a giant lynx, which is eying them hungrily.

"We've come for Rosie! You had no right to take her!" Min says, drawing a thin sword from her side.
The two Lynx warriors do not react but the giant lynx beside them crouches, a low growl coming from its throat.

"Now, we mean no aggression toward you Owls, but Surefoot here, well, he hasn't had breakfast yet," one of the Lynx warriors says with a slight smirk on his face. "Besides, we've been watching you for the past two hours. This is our territory - you think we don't know who comes and goes within our range?"
The other Lynx warrior jerks his head toward Tarrin and says, "Who is the soft human? He looks near death."
Winter is coming...

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hedgeknight
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Re: Intro Posts for the Heroes of the Realms

#45 Post by hedgeknight »

Darkstar mutters to himself I have shamed my father, caught unaware twice in one day.
In a louder voice he says to the Lynx clan members, We are here to investigate the disappearance of their guardian. We seek to find truth not bloodshed He says with a directed look at Min.
He slowly takes a step forward, Spoor and a elven body were found close to the scene, have any of your clan gone missing? More may be at work here then it seems. Let us talk in peace.

In a louder voice he says to the Lynx clan members, We are here to investigate the disappearance of their guardian. We seek to find truth not bloodshed He says with a directed look at Min.

He slowly takes a step forward, Spoor and a elven body were found close to the scene, have any of your clan gone missing? More may be at work here then it seems. Let us talk in peace.[/quote]

"No shame at all, cousin." One of the Lynx warriors replies. "You might have crept up unawares but for the human in your group." He smiles at Tarrin before continuing. "We have clan members go missing often...but...well...it may be best for you to come to us and talk with our elders. You have my word that no harm will come to you unless you bring it on yourselves."

Min and Tohmal sneer at the Lynx warriors but then quickly confer between themselves and give curt nods of acquiescence.

The Lynx warrior smiles and says, "I am called Cumber, and this is my trail companion, Wood. We will escort you to our camp. The elders will be eager to see you."
"Or not," Wood murmurs.

Tarrin was completely ignoring the elves as he bent over, hands on knees, gasping for breath. Finally he mustered enough breath to speak. Or at least gasp. "This human... has been awake... for nearly two days... running and trying to save... his family. He took a big breath and forced himself upright. "If it isn't too much to ask, I would like to sit down, have something to drink, and talk this over like the civilized folk we're supposed to be."
Darkstar nods at Cumber and Wood, My thanks cousins.

He walks over to Tarrin and claps him on the back. Fear not, rest is ahead. Darkstar smiles and nods to the Lynx Better to be tired then be breakfast.
He follows after the guides to the Lynx camp.

Cumber leads the way with Wood and Surefoot bringing up the rear, and the rest of you in the middle. It's not as far as you would have thought - the camp of the Lynx clan lies in a shallow vale overshadowed with hardwoods and ringed with pine and cedar. It is very hilly here in the Crags and in the northern shadow of Mount Hotenow. But there is plenty of cover and fresh water - a perfect place for the camp.
Tree sentries watch your approach and once your eyes adjust to the dappled shadows, you are able to pick them out, standing on small platforms in the trees, many with giant lynxes at their sides. When you enter the camp itself, you are amazed to see that there are no ground dwellings except for small enclosures for gardening. Three wood elf children are helping an older wood elf skin a deer, their arms bloody to the elbows, but when they see you, they stop and gawk...as children would surely do.
Tarrin gets most of the stares and the whispers, but Min and Tohmal and Darkstar get a few too. There are several female wood elves about, many appearing to be preparing to hunt.
Cumber stops near the bases of a ring of mature oak trees and looking up, you see that the canopy of the trees is connected by wooden bridges leading to huts and houses built along the trunks and branches, some twenty feet above the ground, some higher. While you wait, Wood and Surefoot stand around talking quietly to other wood elves who have gathered to see the newcomers.

Min and Tohmal are obviously on edge and frequently glare at the Lynx clansmen, but make no attempt to draw weapons. Suddenly, a young wood elf, a girl of few winters, approaches your group and stops near Tarrin. She cocks her head, allowing her reddish hair to spill over half of her face, and says, "Why are you here, human?"
The tone of her question appears innocent and her eyes seem to hold no guile. In her childish way, it seems an appropriate question.

A few minutes pass and then Cumber reappears, descending from the trees and bids you follow him. He takes you up into the trees, past huts and lodges, moving in a circle toward a very old tree in the back of the ring. Ever climbing, you would guess you are at least 60 feet off the ground, maybe more, when Cumber stops climbing and stops before a door carved directly into the tree itself. Standing on either side of the door is a wood elf, dressed in armor of laminated leaves and wood, each holding spears at the ready as you approach.
Cumber bows as the door opens and three elderly wood elves emerge - all dressed in thin gowns, one brown, one green, and one as yellow as the sun. All three are women. Following them out of the door is a giant lynx, bigger than any you've seen today. It regards you with golden eyes, weighing each of you in its feline mind.

Min and Tohmal (and likely Darkstar) bow before the elders of the Lynx clan. The elders in brown and green incline their heads in greeting, but the elder in yellow says, "You are out of your territory, little owls. This is the land of the Lynx...and surely you know that owl is a favorite meal of the lynx."
She smiles revealing yellowish teeth, not quite as bright as the color of her gown. "You have come for the wood fae, haven't you? Well, we have need of her...special gifts, although I fear she won't last much longer away from her oak lover."

Min opens her mouth to say something, but the giant lynx growls low in the back of its throat - a warning? The speaker titters and rubs the ears of the giant lynx. "Rumple is old and grumpy...and hungry. But he is not your worry - we are. You have put yourself in a dangerous predicament coming uninvited to our camp. And bringing two strangers, one a human no less! What could you have been thinking?"

Tarrin gave the elf girl a tired smile. "I'm here because I am a long way from home, your forest is lovely, and I have heard good things of the hospitality of elves. He bowed. "I am Tarrin Woodsmith, a bowyer and mage. What is your name?"
By this time Tarrin was so exhausted he didn't feel tired anymore. He knew it was probably a bad idea to speak, but by Shaundakul, he wanted a bed, and he wasn't likely to get one until this was resolved. "That an ancient and majestic tree does not deserve to die, perhaps," he said quietly. "A fact that most elves of my acquaintance would accept as gods-given truth. What need of yours was so dire you would break that covenant, and is there perhaps another way we could satisfy it?"

Darkstar bowed to the elders when they arrived in a formal fashion. He listened carefully to the words of the Lynx elders.
When Tarrin spoke he nodded his head in agreement.

Wise Ones, I am Darkstar son of Falling Leaves, archer of The High Forest. I ask you to stay your anger at your Owl Clan nephews. They came here with the noble intention of aiding their guardian and perhaps moved too fast without thinking their decisions through.

Indeed my Father often spoke of the impetuousness of youth needing to be tempered with the experience of age./color]

He looks over at Tarrin before continuing
My Father also has spoken of the need of the village outweighing the need of a individual. What has befallen my Lynx Clan Cousins that has brought you the need to use the guardian against its will?

She offers a slight smile and replies, "I am Ka'rin, but all of my friends and family call me Rin for short. Are you a real wood smith? Maybe you can cure our tree herder - he's sick and Ma says he might die."

"RIN!" a stern voice says abruptly, cutting off the conversation, as a wood elf woman rushes over and grabs the girl, scooting her away. The woman gives Tarrin a hard look and then begins talking sternly to the girl. "You stay away from them. They are strangers. What have I told you about humans?"
The girl looks back at Tarrin and tries to protest but her mother will hear none of it and escorts her out of sight. Tarrin sighs and then realizes Cumber has returned and is escorting them to the meeting with the tribe's elders.

Up above...
"You have put yourself in a dangerous predicament coming uninvited to our camp. And bringing two strangers, one a human no less! What could you have been thinking?"


"That an ancient and majestic tree does not deserve to die, perhaps," Tarrin says quietly. "A fact that most elves of my acquaintance would accept as gods-given truth. What need of yours was so dire you would break that covenant, and is there perhaps another way we could satisfy it?"

The elder wood elves blink in surprise at Tarrin's reply but before they can retort, Darkstar bows and introduces himself and explains their arrival. "My Father also has spoken of the need of the village outweighing the need of a individual. What has befallen my Lynx Clan Cousins that has brought you the need to use the guardian against its will?"

The elder wood elf in yellow steps up to Tarrin and stands just a few inches from his face. He can see faint wrinkles on her aged face and her eyes are like the colors of autumn all mixed together. When she speaks, her breath smells of cloves. "I could kill you here and now, human, and no one would lift a finger to stop me, not even your traveling companions. They know the law of wood elves. We do not harbor strangers in our lands."
Her eyes search Tarrin's face and to his surprise, he sees them soften just a bit before she turns to Darkstar.
"Falling Leaves...I met your father once, very long ago when the High Forest covered much of the North. It was at a reverie of elves, an annual event, and I remember your father told a silly tale that made me laugh."
She smiles and her eyes are far away from the moment, reliving that memory, but only for a few seconds and then she is back with you on the tree platform.
"I was saddened to hear about your tribe, Darkstar, but I am glad to meet the son of Falling Leaves." She touches Darkstar's arm briefly and then gives a slight bow of her head. "I am Summer and indeed we have your...'guardian.' Our clan elder is sick - he is very old and it was our decision to find a wood sprite to perhaps cure him. He has a special gift - he is our tree herder and should he die...well...it would be detrimental to our clan's future. Come with me."

Summer turns and leads your group into the ancient oak, and up a spiraling staircase carved into the very heart of the tree. It leads upward to another chamber that smells of some type of incense. On either side of a canopied bed sit two elves, attendants you guess of the figure lying in the bed. The figure is a weathered elf dressed in a white robe - his skin is gray in color and his breathing is labored and shallow. Summer walks over and sits lightly on the bed and whispers to him and he opens his rheumy eyes. She motions you forward, but a sound off to the other side of the chamber draws your attention and you look to see a cage of some sort. And within...is the guardian.

"Rosie!" Min bursts out, dashing to the cage. The dryad begins to cry when she sees Min and they whisper fiercely to one another, even as Tohmal goes over too.

"Darkstar, would you come to me?" Summer asks. "Our elder would like to meet you."

Down below

Tarrin leans on his bow and looks at the mother as she berates Rin. "That they make good friends but bad enemies?" he suggested. "That they don't respond any better to insults than elves? That some of them respect the trees? Am I getting close?"
Up above

Unsure whether his presence would be welcome at the sickbed, Tarrin instead turned and headed toward the caged guardian. "Hello," he said to her. "I'm Tarrin, and I've sort of been swept up in things, just like you. I'm here to help. Can you tell me what's been happening from your perspective? How did they take you from your tree? How long can you survive away from it?" He glanced at the elf on the bed. "And what is a tree herder? Is he dying of something in particular, or is it just time finally collecting due?

Tarrin smiled slightly. "I don't normally ask so many questions all at once, but I'm very tired, and you don't look too good either."

Darkstar nods his head in appreciation at Summer's words of consolation over the loss of his tribe. He feels his eyes well up in memory of all he had lost.

He follows quietly to the heart of the tree. He looks around but stays silent. When asked to see the elder he nods and walks over quietly. Beside the bed he kneels and lowers his head in reverence.

You're first image of a dryad is not what you expected. Instead of a magical woodland fey, you see a pale, sickly creature with gnarled hands; she gives off the odor of slow decaying leaves.

Image "Hello, I'm Rosalyn. I wish we had met under better circumstances." She tries to smile but instead her eyes well up and she puts her clawed hands over her face. "They lured me out of my tree and captured me - elves are highly resistant to my magic. They brought me here to heal their tree herder > that withered elf lying on the bed? He's actually the soul of the treant who guards their village. They don't believe me, but it is his time to die and a new seedling to grow. It is the way of all natural things. No matter how much I plead with them, they will not release me."
She sobs and Min looks up at you with a mixture of sadness and anger in her eyes.
"My tree," Rosie manages to say through her hands. "I am so worried. I must get back to it! You must free me!"

Darkstar nods his head in appreciation at Summer's words of consolation over the loss of his tribe. He feels his eyes well up in memory of all he had lost.
He follows quietly to the heart of the tree. He looks around but stays silent. When asked to see the elder he nods and walks over quietly. Beside the bed he kneels and lowers his head in reverence.


You have only bowed your head for a few seconds when you feel a hand on your shoulder. Its touch is cold and hard and you raise your eyes to see the withered elder wood elf - withered and gray, obviously dying. But his eyes are the color of a deep forest pool and he tries to smile at you. "Ah...hello...cousin. I saw you...coming to the Wood...these old eyes have...seen much, yes, they have. And now...it is time they close."
Summer steps in and gently places her hands on your shoulders. "I think we should let him rest."
But the grip of the elder elf is stronger and his voice, although weak, still holds command. "Leave him be...and leave us alone. I would speak with the youngling for a moment more."
Reluctantly, Summer obeys and steps away from the canopied bed.
Once she is out of hearing, the elder elf says, "Before the hour is done, I will die. I look forward to it. I am tired and it is time for a new tree herder to take my place. I need you...to do me a favor. You're the only one - you have no ties to the Lynx clan and they will not heed my wishes."
The elder elf takes your hand and places it upon his chest. He watches you with those deep indigo eyes and you feel, to your astonishment, the skin of his flesh part under your hand. He grip is tight for a dying man, and you feel something hard under your palm. "Take it, Darkstar, son of Falling Leaves. This I ask of you, my death wish - the last act of Winter."
You grasp the hard round part of the elder elf and open your hand to look - it looks like a large acorn, ready to burst forth with life. Tears run down your face and you look up to see Winter smiling.
"Ah...you will do this for ol' Winter, yes? Bury it in the grove nearby before you leave. And know this - you...and your companions...were very brave in coming here. And you're bravery will be needed again soon. Strangers are coming to the Wood. Strangers who will need your help. Remember this word when you return: elfen-slipper."

He says no more, but closes his eyes, smiling, his breathing very shallow now. And then he says something else, his voice barely above a whisper. "You've saved us...you've saved me. The Lady of the Forest be praised."

"I know humans can get set in their ways, and we only live for decades, Tarrin said, remembering an argument he'd gotten into with a wizard passing through the High Dale who had taken offense at his magic. "I suppose if you've had centuries, patterns of thought can set even further.

He reached out and took her hand."Don't worry. It might be the tree herder's time, but it isn't yours yet. We'll get you out of here." He turned and glared at Min. "Without killing anyone. There's been enough of that already today."

The dryad smiles and lays her other hand over Tarrin's, her big eyes welling up again, but this time with grateful tears. "When we get back to my tree, I will reward you for saving me."

Tarrin smiles back and then his mind is filled with a vision of Rosie in full health, naked and eager...and for several seconds (until he releases her hand) he is lost in a fantasy...

Darkstar stands and places his hand with the acorn over his heart. Be at rest, your will be done.
He takes two steps backward before turning to face Summer.

Nothing can cure him, both he and I see the truth in it. You must let him find peace. The cycle moves us all, would you seek to cheat nature?
He looks over at the dryad then back to Summer
I know much of loss but and I know the lengths I would have gone to to save my kin if I thought it would have helped but there is nothing anyone can do. You must release her and in doing so release him from his pain. He has seen that it is time for another to take his place.

You must trust in him and in The Lady of The Forest.


Summer wrings her hands and finally nods, tears forming in her eyes. Then, she turns to see Winter reaching for her and she hurries to his side, as do also the other two elders (presumably Spring and Autumn by name). Winter touches each of them on the forehead, first Spring, then Summer, and finally Autumn where he lingers the longest. Something unspoken passes between the two elders and then he smiles...and dies.

For a few minutes, the elders mourn the loss of their friend and long-time companion, and then Summer rises to her feet and walks over to the caged dryad, mutters some arcane words, and the cage door unlocks and swings open.
"We owe you much more than an apology, I'm afraid. We were wrong to take you, selfishly wrong, and I know that does not suffice for what we put you through, but it is all I have."

The dryad gives the elder a look of utter disgust and spite - had she the power, she would no doubt strangle the elder with her own hands. Instead, she takes a couple of deep breaths and says, "By your own hand, I am far from my tree. I must get home as soon as possible. Surely, you have the means to get me there other than traveling by land...yes? If you want to give me something more than a hollow apology, I will take that."

The elder bristles for a few seconds at the dryad's tone, but then she looks at Darkstar and Tarrin, and the Owl Clan wood elves, and says, "Very well. When you are ready, I shall send you and any who wish to go with you...back to your grove and...back to your tree."

The elder looks at Darkstar and says, "What must you do to fulfill your promise to Elder Winter? All of us will accompany you."

Darkstar inwardly feels relief mixed with sadness at the passing of the elder. Not trusting himself to speak too much he simply replies, Take me to the grove nearby and I will show you.

"See?" Tarrin told the dryad quietly. "I told you we'd get you out." He yawned. "And I am very glad I won't have to run all the way back."

The three remaining elders, along with Min and Tohmal, Rosie, and Darkstar and Tarrin, leave the great oak and descend back to ground level. There are close to one hundred wood elves gathered around the tree, waiting for word. Some are already mourning, others staring in disbelief, others fearful of what is to come. Most have never known life without all of their elders and it is disconcerting to say the least.
The other elders walk through the throng of their people, saying little, but still they touch them and offer hugs when appropriate. And the entire group falls in behind the procession toward the grove. The walk is not far and the grove is a quiet place decorated with many flowers coming into bloom, especially several apple trees. Birds flit about in the trees and three young squirrels chase each other up and down the trunks and along limbs of the hardwoods throughout the grove.
But when the elders step into the grove, the birds stop singing and the squirrels cease their play time to watch and listen.
Without a word, Summer indicates a spot in the grove and her huge lynx, Rumble, pads softly toward it. She gently nudges Darkstar forward as Rumble digs a shallow cleft in the soft, rich soil.
"Do what you must do, Darkstar, son of Falling Leaves."

Darkstar:
You recognize the name elfin-slipper > it is a prickly stemmed flower with red tubular blooms; and you see some just beginning to bloom in the grove.


While Darkstar walks forward to bury the "gift" from Winter, Rosie leans on Tarrin for support, wrapping an arm around his waist, holding him tightly. "Stay close to me, please. I still do not trust these wildlings." She whispers for fear of being overheard.

"Of course," Tarrin whispered back. He wasn't entirely certain how well he'd be walking it he didn't have her as an out-rider, and he didn't particularly trust these elves either. He was, however, quite curious to see where they were going, and he looked around at the plants with interest. Herbs and plants were a hobby of his.
Looking around the grove, Tarrin sees several plants he recognizes - daffodils, bluebells, honeysuckle, jasmine, holly, currant bushes, hemlock, wild strawberries, climbing roses - and honeybees are everywhere working the blossoms.
There are also several patches of mushrooms, some growing wild like morels, others obviously cultivated - chanterelles, hedgehog, lion's mane, and white cap buttons.

Darkstar moves over by the opening dug by the large Lynx. He drops to his knees and lays his bow gently on the ground. He opens his hand to reveal the acorn in the palm of his hand. He gently lowers the seed into the hole and with both hands pulls the soil back over to fill the spot in. He quietly whispers Be at peace and then slowly rises, bow in hand once more.
He bows once more then moves back to stand before Summer. It is done.

Summer touches Darkstar on the shoulder and gently turns him around to face the grove. "And now...we watch and wait."

For several minutes, the entire Lynx clan, and its visitors, watch the grove in silence. The only sounds are the bees working the flowers and blossoms, and the cool northern wind whistling through the tops of the trees. Darkstar glances over at Tarrin who in turn is looking his way and the two companions share a nod and a smile. Tarrin continues to support Rosie, but his free hand suddenly isn't free anymore. He feels a small hand slip into his and looks down to see Ka'Rin smiling up at him.
"I knew you would do it," she says squeezing his hand.
"Do what, little one?" Rosie asks, peering at the child suspiciously.
"Heal our tree herder," she replies happily. "Just watch - my Mama says I'm about to witness a miracle."

And a few seconds later, that "miracle" begins to happen. The spot where Darkstar planted the gift from elder Winter begins to glow with a bluish light, and then...a sprout appears. The sprout quickly grows into a seedling and then a small sapling in less than a minute. The sapling stretches for the sun, growing and thickening into a young tree with deep green leaves. Minutes pass as the tree continues to grow, reaching nearly 15 feet in height. It's leaves fade a bit, then turn a golden color, which then turns to brown. As the leaves begin to fall off, the bark on the tree changes colors, from shades of brown to shades of gray. And when the last leaf wafts downward, the buds begin again, and this time something different occurs.
Sap suddenly appears in a thin line along the middle of the tree trunk; it is coming from a slight depression. The depression lengthens and a crevice appears. And out of the crevice...emerges a foot! The wood elves gasp is awe and wonder, many bursting into tears, falling on their knees, praising the Lady of the Forest and the Oak Father.
The foot is followed by the leg it is attached to and a hand and an arm too. And then you begin to see a body emerging from the crevice, pulling its way out of the inside of the tree.
You watch in amazement as the tree gives "birth" to a wood elven child. The child is covered with sticky sap and is, of course, completely naked. The child is a boy (its easy to tell :) ) with light brown skin and spiky hair as white as snow. The three elders move forward and begin to wipe the boy's face and head while draping a blue robe around him. When finished, they turn and face the Lynx clan of wood elves. All three of the elders are smiling and laughing, and Summer says, "Today is a day of sadness and yet great gladness! What was dead is alive, reborn to us anew. And with that rebirth comes rejoicing and celebration! It is a time of healing and..."
Summer pauses and looks intently at Rosie and their other guests, "...and compassion and forgiveness. It is a time to make amends and renew vows. So...let us now welcome our new clan leader."
The young wood elf steps forward, clasps his hands in front of him, offers a slight bow of his head, and says, "I am Winter...and I am your servant."
To which the entire Lynx clan replies, "And we are yours!"
Winter smiles and the cheering begins, with the wood elves hurrying forward to meet and greet their newest, and youngest, leader.

Summer makes her way through the throng of her people to Darkstar and Tarrin, Min and Tohmal, and Rosie. She smiles and says, "I wish you could stay and celebrate with us. It would be an honor to have you enjoy our happiness. The celebration will last for at least a week, while many will continue to celebrate into early summer."
Then she looks at Rosie and curtsies with head bowed. "If you can, I ask your forgiveness. If you cannot, I understand." She stands and says, "And I will send you home whenever you are ready to go."

Rosie lifts her head high, stepping away from Tarrin's side to look the elder Summer in the eye. "For what you did to me, I will not forgive you, nor will I forget it. And I am ready to go home...now."

Summer's face reddens, but she only says, "As you wish. Will your friends be coming with you...or will they stay and celebrate with our clan?"
Winter is coming...

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hedgeknight
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Re: Intro Posts for the Heroes of the Realms

#46 Post by hedgeknight »

Darkstar feel torn inside. The events and the emotions he had witnessed touched him deeply and he longed to stay and celebrate, hoping to lose his own pain for a while. But he had given his word to help Tarrin. After a moment of internal conflict he replies to Summer
I would like very much to stay and take part in the celebration. The events here have moved me greatly but I have made a promise to see my companion safely from the wood. Winter also spoke to me of strangers coming who would need help. I cannot abandon my duty so I am sorry that I must go. He pauses before continuing When my tasks are done may I return to visit you? Perhaps you could tell me more of meeting my father...

"I will go as well," Tarrin said. "I appreciate your offer, and wish you joy of your celebration, but I promised to see Rosie home. Besides," he smiled exhaustedly, "I wouldn't be much fun at a celebration. Not unless it included competitive sleeping. But I will always remember you, and what happened here."

"As you wish," Summer says and she calls the other two elders to her and they lead you a few yards away from the throng of wood elves. The three elders link hands and begin to chant in unison and the air around you begins to shimmer. You feel a tug in your stomachs and then a lurch as if you are being pulled and stretched. The air around you grows cold and you almost black out...and then abruptly, the sensation ends and you are standing in the grove near the stone archway.
Rosie cries out in joy and rushes to the old oak tree, embracing it like a lover. She speaks to it in the language of the forest and fey creatures and then she gently places her hand along the trunk and begins to meld into the tree itself! Her skin changes to match that of her tree and she turns at you all and smiles, winks at Tarrin, and finally disappears inside the oak.
When she is gone it is almost as if the tree shudders in relief and you notice with wonder how its leaves begin to stretch and grow, no longer curling or wilting.

Min and Tohmal smile and hug each other and then Min turns to you. "Well, I certainly didn't expect to go on such an adventure when we were creeping upon you under that overhang! You never know what type of surprises might come around in these Woods. What are your plans now?"

"Sleep," Tarrin said instantly. "This has been a good day, but also a very, very long one. I need some sleep." He glanced around the grove and pulled off his backpack. Atop it was a bedroll, which he released by tugging on a couple of straps. "Right here, actually. Now that the guardian has returned I can't think of a safer place within stumbling distance, and somehow I don't think Rosie will object."

He spread the bedroll on the ground and sat on it. For a moment, the pressures of the impossible day beat down on him. He should have been dead bells ago. Worry for the rest of his family gnawed at him. But he was alive, and where there was life, there was hope. And magic, if these crazy elves would ever let him get it back. Sighing, he started taking off his boots.

When Tarrin replied sleep Darkstar noticed the weariness he felt as well. Food and sleep sound like the wise decision. After the rest I believe the goal is the same, to see Tarrin through the wood. Although there are the strangers that Winter mentioned.... Darkstar looks off into the distance and mutters to himself Elfin slipper....what is special about elfin slipper?

Tarrin and Darkstar fall asleep almost as soon as they lie down. With exhaustion comes dreams, mostly good ones, but darker shadows seems to flit in and out between the good dreams. Shadows with burning eyes, yellowish teeth, and long talons...but perhaps those are just shadows. And then, there are other dreams...

Tarrin:
You dream of running...something is chasing you but you can't see it. You run through the forest, through a darkened street, but whatever is chasing you eludes your vision. You're looking behind you when you run into something solid. Tasting blood in your mouth, you look up to find you have ran into a very large tree. And within that tree, you hear a voice calling to you, urging you to come inside and rest. You reach for the tree and amazingly, the tree embraces you, sucking you inside its trunk, and slowly begins to devour you...
Darkstar:
You dream of running...running through a forest, searching for something that you can't find. You call out for family and friends to help you but no answer comes. You see marks on the ground, but you can't discern them. You see broken limbs and torn earth, but you can't decipher what happened. You pick up a doll made of sticks...one you recognize, but can't recall the face or name of its owner. Suddenly, you hear a sound in the forest and you turn to see a huge shadow moving through the trees incredibly fast. You fire arrow after arrow at it, but it doesn't slow down; it just keeps winding its way toward you. It's all shadow and teeth and claws...
Tarrin awoke with a large yawn, but for a long time did not leave his bedroll. The fact that there was snow on the ground around him was only part of the reason. Yesterday had been long, intense, and crazy, and he was still astonished he had survived. Not only that, but he seemed to have rescued a dryad, made friends with an elf tribe, and done it all without irreparably alienating another elf tribe.

Strange times.

But no matter how strange they were, he couldn't help but keep going. There were things to do, places to see, experience to be gained, and eventually vengeance to take. He wriggled out of his bedroll enough to sit up, pulled his spellbook out of his bag, and started memorizing spells. When he noticed Darkstar awaken, he said, "Elfin slipper, which should more probably be elven slipper I suppose, is a cure for lycanthropy." He grinned at the elf. "Do you have something you want to tell me?"

Darkstar wakes quickly and listens to the sound of the forest. Although his body got some rest his mind is uneasy due to the bad dreams. The image of the shadow that his arrows could not stop echoes in his mind.

He turns when he hears Tarrin mention the elfin slipper.

There is little to tell. Winter told me strangers who need help are coming to the wood then he told me to remember elfin slipper. I know the plant but not as a cure for were-creatures.

Tarrin closed his spellbook and slipped it back into his backpack. "Then we should probably stick around. The full moon is coming, and lycanthropy is a terrible thing. Did you see some in the Lynx camp? I was too concerned with Rosie to notice."

Yes, it was just beginning to bloom. Darkstar readjusts his gear and gets ready to venture out. Does it have to be fully bloomed? Do you know how to use it as a cure? He looks around the area.
If we are to wait then we must find food, I will go look for something. Perhaps you can ask the dryad where more 'slipper can be found nearby,

Min and Tohmal return to the glade shortly after the two of you awaken, padding softly through the undegrowth, carrying your breakfast > a young wild turkey. "Tohmal made the shot," Min says, somewhat irritably as she goes to the stream and begins to pluck feathers.
"Help me get a fire going, will you?" Tohmal says to Darkstar. While they work, Tohmal says, "We saw fresh tracks in the snow about a mile from here. Gnolls, big pack of them. We followed them for a little ways, but doubled back when the tracks led away from the glade and toward the crags. I hate gnolls - they're nothing but filthy dogs."
The fire is burning good when Min returns with the turkey and sets it on a spit over the fire. "Have you seen Rosie since we returned? I was hoping she might join us this morning. I found some wild strawberries, her favorite," Min says. "But, I doubt we will see her for awhile - she won't leave her tree again until she's sure it is safe."

"No, we haven't seen Rosie," Tarrin said as he finally pulled himself out of his bedroll. He pulled his boots back on and calmly started rolling up the bedroll; breaking camp so as to avoid delay whenever they moved out. "Though she didn't object to us sleeping under her boughs, for which I'm very grateful," he added, smiling at Rosie's tree.

He moved closer to the fire and watched the turkey cook. "Gnolls, aye? Small enough group we could take them? Or best to let them move on, do you think?"

"I'd like to take a shot at 'em," Tohmal says, watching the grease drip off of the turkey. "They're not too far ahead of us, and if I know Gnolls, they'll hole up around late morning and doze through the day. We might be able to catch up to them."
"Yeah, but you're leaving out some important information," Min interjects. "There is at least a dozen of the dogs and there's only four of us."

Tohmal nods, "Outnumbered 3 to 1 - sounds like good odds to me." He smiles at Darkstar and returns to watch the turkey cook.

"As long as we fight smart, I agree." Tarrin said, watching the turkey. And I have a full mind of spells again, he did not add. After the last few days, he wanted an enemy he could strike out at. "I'm in."

When asked to help Darkstar moves over by Tohmal and wordlessly gets to work. Together they get the fire going quickly. At the mention of the gnolls Darkstar pauses but does not reply.

When Tarrin agrees to go after the gnolls Darkstar breaks his silence.
Tohmal, Min and Tarrin, yesterday you both all were strangers. Fate brought us together. We faced the owlbear and later raced to the Lynx camp to aid your Rosie. In both cases we got lucky. We ran blindly into danger and almost paid the price when caught unawares. We were fortunate to leave with our lives at the mercy of the Lynx clan. Today you wish to attack a larger group of gnolls.
He stands up.
I mean no disrespect but I am not sure I trust your judgement.

"Maybe, but this time I have a full mind of spells. Though unfortunately that doesn't mean as much as it would coming from other wizards. I followed yesterday under protest, and only because we were dealing with a recent abduction. Today we can dictate the terms."

He shrugged. "When it comes down to it, those monsters are going to cause trouble sooner or later. Would you rather trouble happen away from people, or would you prefer fighting them in the middle of some unprotected village?"

I would not see any come to hard from the gnolls nor would I go looking to cause harm unprovoked. My father often said those who go looking for trouble find it.
Let us track the gnolls and watch them to make sure no innocent is harmed by them but I will not seek out a fight for the sake of sport. These are not my lands.

I suggest Min accompany Tarrin and I as we track, Tohmal goes to get aid from his kin if indeed he seeks to fight.


"You pay too much attention to what your father said," Tarrin scoffed. "My father's said things like 'Finish a fight before it starts,' but you don't see me quoting him. Live for yourself. And for myself, I'm going with Min and Tohmal, to see what we can do about killing some gnolls."

Tohmal's face reddens and he bristles with anger.
"Don't trust my judgement? I admit that our lives have been in a whirlwind the past couple of days, but that gives you no reason to disrespect me! I could have shot you full of holes when we first met, but held off. Did I make a lapse in judgement then?"

Clearly, Tohmal is...hurt by Darkstar's words, and he stomps off to be alone, ignoring Min's plea to come back. Sighing, Min looks at Darkstar and Tarrin. "He's alright - he just has this image of himself that he really can't live up to. Our father...well...it's a long story, but our father put a lot of responsibility on Tohmal when he was young and so he is used to making decisions and...no offense, but he only takes criticism from me...and not very well."
She smiles and then punches Darkstar in the arm playfully. "So go easy on him, okay? He's my brother and he's all I got."

Min turns away and bastes the turkey and bit and begins chatting with Tarrin. "So, mighty mage," she begins with a grin, "what kind of magic do you know? After we eat we're going dog hunting, I guess, and it would help to know what you can cast so I don't get in the way."

"Well, you won't need to worry about me throwing around any fireballs; I'm not that powerful yet," Tarrin said with a self-deprecating smile. "I've been out of my apprenticeship for more than a year, now, but there isn't much call for violent encounters back home." His face fell. "Well, not until recently."

He cleared his throat and visibly pulled himself back onto the subject. "Anyway. My spells. I can put things to sleep, I've got the beginning mage's favorite attack spell: magic missile, and I can create visual-only illusions. But you need to know one other thing about my magic: it's not always predictable. Like that stinking cloud I hit the owlbear with: I didn't exactly mean to do that. Still, it doesn't happen often, and it usually works out for me, so I don't complain. It adds a bit of spice to the casting."

Darkstar turns to face Tarrin Live for yourself? What of the gnolls, should they be left then to live for themselves? Who are you to decide who should live and who should die?

When Tohmal stomps off Darkstar sighs. It is good then Min that you are there to balance him if indeed he does not listen to criticism. As I recall it was your voice that stopped him from killing me. He bows his head at her, I am sorry if my words have caused harm but I will not seek to slaughter the gnolls.

"When gnolls attack others, and they do, then they get attacked in return." Tarrin raised an eyebrow at Darkstar. "It's an odd elf that has a problem with defending their forests against goblinoids."

Darkstar shrugges Track and monitor them, yes. See to it they do not cause trouble for the innocent, yes. Rush after them to fight, no. He moves back away from the fire to lean against a tree and check his bowstring. Besides, I thought you were looking for the way back home.

"Eventually. Once I know I'll be able to do more than just die. So if I can do some good out here while I gain the power and allies needed to take my Dale back from the Zhents, so much the better. And killing gnolls before they have an opportunity to hurt anyone definitely counts as good in my book."

He finished eating his portion of the turkey and wiped his hands on the grass. Standing, he pulled his backpack onto his back and strung his bow. "I'm ready. Shall we move out?"

Darkstar moves over to the turkey and tears himself a large chunk. Wordlessly he eats.
When done he stands back up and asks Min Cousin Min, do you know of any place in particular around here that elfin slipper grows?

Min pauses mid-chew and then swallows the turkey in her mouth before replying, "I have seen it only a couple of times in my life. Once was in the camp of the Lynx, the other time was in a swamp near the river to the south of us. It is said to have strong healing properties, but I wouldn't know the truth of that. Why do you ask?"

"Leaving already?" another woman's voice suddenly says close to Tarrin.

Image

Turning to look, you see Rosie climbing out of her tree...naked as the day she was born. Her skin is slick with tree sap and she looks beautiful...in a wood fey sort of way. She sidles up to Tarrin and puts her arms around him, filling his nostrils with the scent of her. Almost immediately he feels light headed...as the blood rushes to the nether regions of his body. :mrgreen:

"Were you planning to go without saying goodbye?" her voice is husky, her breath warm against Tarrin's neck. "I thought you were going to stay with me for a little while. Remember? I had something to give you."
Her eyes are deep green pools and she leans up toward you, her mouth open...

This is probably a bad idea, Tarrin thought. Then he gave a mental shrug. The High Dale had always been a bit boring, anyway.

"I didn't want to pester you while you might still be recovering," he murmured. "You look much better." And he leaned forward and kissed her.

Darkstar replies to Min Winter, the Lynx elder spoke... and is cut off by the appearance of Rosie. When Tarrin moves in to kiss her Darkstar turns away and walks to the perimeter of the camp.

I am going to visit the Lynx clan and ask to take a sample. I was a fool not to think of it earlier.

Tarrin:
When your lips meet, you feel the power of her true nature flood your senses - you taste the fertile loam bursting forth with life, you smell the richness of the forest, you see the greenery alive and flourishing, you hear the songs of the wildlife nearby, and you feel more alive than ever in your life. And as wonderful as that is, her kiss sends an ache throughout your body that nearly crushes every ounce of willpower you have, while at the same time filling you with lust for her so strong that it brings tears to your eyes.
Her tongue explores your mouth even as her hands deftly explore your body, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you. Rosie breaks away, leaving you gasping for air. She nuzzles your neck and bites your ear, whispering, "That was a single kiss. There is more...inside my tree." She deftly unlaces your leggings and slips her hand inside, stroking you playfully. "I'm hungry. Tarry with me for a little while," she purrs.
I am going to visit the Lynx clan and ask to take a sample. I was a fool not to think of it earlier.[/quote]

There is a sudden change in the glade, even at the perimeter, and both Darkstar and Min feel it. It is the feeling like walking through the forest after a spring rain - everything is drinking up the moisture, growing, and alive. It is stirring to the soul and gives you a slight euphoria. Min steps in close, touching Darkstar on the arm.
"Must you go? I need...don't want anything to happen to you. Won't you stay for a little while longer? We could...you know..."
Her lips are parted and her breathing is becoming more rapid; Darkstar is reacting the same way, wondering why the sudden change in his feelings. Min steps in closer, almost touching him with her body. She places a hand on his stomach and smiles.

Somehow, Tarrin kept his head. Well, a little bit of it, at any rate. Most of it, along with the rest of him, was screaming to take her up on her offer. He'd played around with some of the lasses back home, but it was nothing like this. "Ah, and how long is a little while?" he managed to gasp out. "A day, a week? A year? I would love," he shuddered, "to spend a few days with you." Leaning forward he kissed her lightly on the cheek. "But I cannot spend years. Not now. Maybe later, when my work is done."

Darkstar shakes his head to clear his senses. He knows that this feeling isn't right, its too soon and he still aches from so much he has lost. He shouts Waken your senses, something is amiss! He nocks an an arrow with red fletching and looks for a cause of the disruption.
If he cannot see any reason for this strange feeling he will target the dryad.

It is all that Tarrin can do to pull away from Rosie's embrace, but when he does, refusing her offer to stay...her response is not what he expected. The dryad screams, tearing away from him, assuming her true wood fey form.

Image

Her voice is filled with hurt and anger. "You saved my life...and for that I'm forever grateful. But one does not spurn the love of a dryad without consequence!"

While out near the perimeter of the glade...
Darkstar's shout of warning is almost simultaneous to Rosie's scream of emotional pain. He puts arrow to bow and looks for the source of the...weirdness...he is feeling. And then he sees the dryad change form...and hears her threat...
It appears Rosie is about to attack Tarrin...no save needed - fire or hold your fire - your call!
And this is why he packed early. "Maybe not," he admitted. Then he turned and sprinted away from Rosie, hoping about what he'd heard about dryads being tied to their trees was true.
Well, that and that they didn't have access to blasting magics.

While Tarrin runs away from the arms of Rosie, Darkstar takes aim and fires a true shot, directly into her ribs! Rosie screams and the air is suddenly filled with the scent of tree sap. She wheels and gives the wood elf a look that could kill. With a grunt and another scream, she yanks the arrow from her side and flings it away. "GET OUT OF MY GROVE!" she yells, plunging her hands into the dirt.
The plant life begins to move, twisting and twining up trees, with tendrils reaching out and grasping one another.

Tarrin dives for the perimeter when Darkstar and Min are standing, gawking in amazement as a wall of vines and thorns begins to form all around the grove.
"Rosie! I'm sorry!" Min shouts, but Rosie does not answer and the thicket of brambles continues to grow and thicken. Within a few minutes, the beauty of the glade is no longer visible.

Breathing hard, Tarrin stands up and brushes off leaves and dirt. Darkstar looks at him and shrugs and Min has worry etched all over her face. But then a crashing through the brush announces the arrival of Tohmal. He tries to make sense of the wall of brambles, but then shakes his head and says, "The gnolls are on the move! If we want a chance of following them, we need to move...now!"
Winter is coming...

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hedgeknight
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Re: Intro Posts for the Heroes of the Realms

#47 Post by hedgeknight »

"The Hells hath no fury..." Tarrin muttered under his breath. Setting his pack more comfortably on his back, he pulled his bow free and nodded. "Let's go."

Darkstar, lamenting the loss of one of his prized arrows, is at a loss. He isn't sure what to say or what to do. The sudden development of yet another change has him momentarily speechless. He awaits the decision of the group before deciding on his own path.

Tarrin looked at Min. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. Not what I intended. I just didn't want to get pleasantly imprisoned for a couple of years. But it's going to make things harder for you, and for that I apologize."

Min shakes her head, watching the vines and brambles grow and close off the glade. "It's not your fault - Rosie is, after all, being true to her nature. She'll be fine in a few days."

Then she turns to Darkstar and says, "Before...um, before everything happened, you had said you wanted to travel back to the Lynx camp for some elfen slipper, yes? I'll gladly go with you."

"Then let's go!" Tohmal urges. "The gnolls are headed in that direction anyway...and did I mention they are getting farther and farther ahead of us? Tarrin, you're with me, aren't you?"

(Assuming everyone is on board...) The group skirts the glade and heads toward the outer edge of the forest, heading in a northwesterly direction. It isn't difficult to pick up the trail of the gnolls - footprints and the carcass of a dead deer mark their passage. It's a large pack, and throughout the journey, Tohmal assures the rest of you that he is not bent on attacking them. "I just want to see what they're up to so I can report it to Celadon."

You travel for miles, all the while angling westward, and when you reach the foothills of the Crags near sunset, you come across fresh spoor and know that you are close. So close in fact, that you hear the raucous revelry through the trees.
"We are very close, not only to the gnolls, but also not far from the Lynx clan's camp." Tohmal barely whispers as you huddle near a stand of cedar. "I've only been to this part of the wood once or twice in my life, and from what I remember, there are several fields that come together here. It's a perfect place for a camp, and it looks like that is where the gnolls are holding up for the night."

In fact, Tohmal has barely finished speaking, when you catch movement near the edge of the woods. Two gnolls, sentries you figure, are standing about ten feet apart. One is sniffing the air in your direction, even though the breeze is blowing across your bodies, away from the gnolls, while the other is taking a piss.
Suddenly, you hear, from somewhere behind the gnolls, a woman's scream, followed by howls and barking laughter. The two gnolls mutter something to each other, obviously disgruntled about pulling guard duty and missing out on the fun. The woman screams again, almost in a begging, pleading way, and the two gnoll sentries laugh.

"What are we gonna do?" Tohmal asks, bow in hand, eyes nervous.

Tarrin put an arrow to his bowstring. "Take the sentries hard and fast, then on to the others. I can put at least some of them to sleep, and we do what we can."

Before Tarrin draws Darkstar looks hard at the sentries.
Very well, we will take the sentries then see what can be done for the one they captured but we may not be enough to take that group.
He turns to Tohmal, Go to the Lynx clan and gather more cousins. Tell them of the danger. Only you know the way and are strong and fast enough to get through any trouble.

Next he looks to Min and Tarrin, We will down the sentries and then move in to see what can be done. Min you help keep Tarrin concealed. If we are discovered do not wait for me, you and Tarrin must flee I will draw their attention.
He adjusts his quiver and stretches his arms and neck.
Are we ready?

Tohmal nods and is about to move off when Min grabs his arm. "Wait! Listen!"

The woman's incoherent screams have taken on words and she is cursing in a very familiar language.
"She's a wood elf!" Darkstar says, looking at Min and Tohmal.

"She's cursing her attackers...and pleading for the life of...of someone else. Likely another captive." Min says, her eyes moist, her hands shaking.

"The dogs will not kill her immediately..." Tohmal says, his words trailing off, the meaning left unspoken. "Do you still want me to go to the camp or do you want to do something stupid and try to rescue her?" His grin is malicious in the final light of day.

The gnoll finishes pissing, coughs, and turns back toward his companion, speaking to one another in their on language. Down below them is a bowl-like depression with sparse trees, but you are unable to see that far. There are woods on both sides, some thick, some sparse, with a few scattered trees out in the fields.

"There isn't time," Tarrin said softly. "By the time Tohmal could reach the Lynx, convince them to help, and get back, this is all going to be over, one way or another. Let's just attack and get it done."

"Works for me," Min says, drawing a shortsword and moving toward the gnoll on the far right (G2). She works herself quietly into position and then looks back at her brother and gives a curt nod.
"Together on three," Tohmal says, glancing at Tarrin. "One...two...three!" And they fire at the other gnoll (G1). Two arrows fly true, both striking the gnoll in the back, dropping him like a sack of rocks.
(Tohmal's first arrow: 1d20 + 1 (14) + 1 = 15; Damage 1d6 = 6)
(Tarrin's first arrow: [1d20+2] = 13+2 = 15; [1d8] = 6)


Even as he is falling, Min lunges with her sword, driving it deep into the lower back of G2, driving him to his knees...but not doing enough damage to kill him! The gnoll groans and fumbles for a horn at his belt...but before the gnoll can raise the horn to its lips, a second arrow from Tohmal pierces the side of his head, killing it.
(Min's backstab: 1d20 + 5 (18) + 5 = 23; Damage 1d6 + 1 (3) + 1 = 4 x2 = 8)
(Tohmal's second arrow: 1d20 + 1 (14) + 1 = 15; Damage 1d6 = 1)


For several seconds, the four of you wait to see if there is any reaction to killing the gnoll sentries. When none comes, Min motions you forward and you peer down the hill. There are few trees down there, but you are able to see a large group of gnolls, more than a dozen, gathered around two captives - looks like a man and a woman.
Darkstar's sharp vision (as well as that of Min and Tohmal), hones in on the captives, and they appear to be wood elves. A large dead lynx lies off to the side, where several gnolls are in the process of skinning it.
The male wood elf looks pretty beaten up, and the female is naked from the waist up. She begs and pleads as she tries to cover herself, while the gnolls grab at her, laughing and barking in their guttural language.
Darkstar:
You would guess the range to be about 100 yards from your position. And the two wood elves look vaguely familiar. If you were closer...
"I can put some of them to sleep, but not at this range," Tarrin said. He mentally reviewed his spells and winced. "I need to close the range for all of my spells. Let's move forward about thirty yards and then see what we can do to attract their attention."

Darkstar nods his head in admiration of the swiftness and skill used to down the two sentries.
When they move closer Darkstar feels the icy calm take over as he sees the gnolls less as living beings and more as potential targets. He moves even closer in using all his skills to avoid detection.
If noticed he will immediately open fire.

As you're planning your next moves, you notice a commotion about 150 yards or so from your position, along the treeline (see the map in the Bloodcurse thread). You see figures moving in the shadows of the trees and hear...combat?

Well, this could be convenient. Tarrin thought as he hurried forward.
Winter is coming...

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Re: Intro Posts for the Heroes of the Realms

#48 Post by hedgeknight »

Intro Post > Fearghus (Lysander)
(Originally posted from July 13-15, 2013)

Oggle and his companions traveled south through the hills, attacked an orc camp, and then came into the small frontier town of Kingsholm. The leaders of the town approached his group about some missing persons, and Oggle and two others decided to stay and help, while their captain and the rest of the men pushed on toward Mornbryn's Shield with intentions of reaching Nesme traveling up river.

So, Lysander has come into Kingsholm and has too learned of the situation from the town leaders - similar to what you'll read here: viewtopic.php?f=68&t=1384&start=20

Basically, you arrive at the Coronet and Cabbage Inn a couple of hours after Oggle and his companions have left for the graveyard, having traveled through the night upon a premonition from the Triad (your patron deities) that you were needed and must not stop or waver. Upon seeing you, the innkeeper walks up and introduces himself and two others standing with him:
"Forgive me, I am Ian Turbrand, and this is Mia Desarna, captain of our town guard. And this is the owner of our General Store, Gran Stoutbrace."

Ian then proceeds to tell you the following:
1. Three locals went up to the graveyard the day before last to prepare a recently deceased member of their family for interment in the graveyard's mausoleum. The family (a mother, father, and daughter) did not return. When the family's servants reported them missing, two "sentinels" (town guards) went to investigate and didn't return, either. Mia is reluctant to send any more sentinels.
2. The missing sentinels, a dwarf man named Dornal and a human woman named Zeera, are trained warriors that Mia trusts to do their job.
3. No trouble of any kind has occurred in the graveyard for as long as the townsfolk can remember.

Then Mia pipes in and says that she just returned from escorting three dwarves and two of her young sentinels to the graveyard. And then she says, "I can take you there as well. Will you help us?"

"Well met, innkeeper", the paladin says to Ian; nodding politely to Mia and Gran as each is introduced. He listens to what they say about the missing townsfolk; sitting tall in the saddle and trying to look like a proper knight even though road-weary. Ilmater teaches endurance and he is pleased to have the opportunity to proove his worth to the deity.

Without stop for rest or refreshment Lysander answers Mia, "Yes, captain. I will aid in this endeavor. Tell me more of these dwarf as we travel".

"All I know of them is they rode in with other men of Nesme, coming north from the Griffon Hills. They are returning to Nesme - seems they've had some trouble and are taking the round-about way home. Anyway, Chauntea brought them to us in our time of need and for that we are grateful. They seem to be good folk.
"What about you, Lysander - where do you hail from?"


"Mirabar", he says in answer to her inquiry. "South of there is a castle dedicated to the service of Torm, Tyr and Ilmater; who are sometimes called the Triad when referenced together. While still a boy I was sent there to be a page. I was fortunate enough to become a squire and ride with my Lord against the orc, and beasts of the wood and hills".

He smiles while thinking of the early years of his training and life at the castle with the faithful. He drinks deep from his water skin before offering it to Mia, "By Tymora's luck I lived long enough to take up arms and travel in service of the Triad".

Mia takes the water skin, trying not to look at Lysander's handsome face. She takes a sip and then says, "The Triad > haven't heard about them in some time. Around here, most folk revere Chauntea or Tymora, but more than a few older dwarves who still live in town mention Dumathoin and Moradin now and again. Still, these are troublesome times and we're glad you came calling in our hour of need."
She glances up at you and smiles, then quickly looks away. Mia is not an unattractive woman - stocky, chiseled by training, and just a few inches over five feet. You've seen uglier and meaner in your travels.

He nods as Mia speaks of the gods, "All of which you speak are deities worthy of invocation. Believe me when I say that I am pleased to be here, I only wish my arrival were sooner. It pains me to think these dwarves and soldiers might be in need of aid while I perpetually remain on their trail".
He rides a few moments and then asks, "Tell me captain, how long have you been a resident of Kingsholm?"

"All my life," she replies with hesitation. You can hear a sense of pride in her voice and she straightens a bit in the saddle. "That's the thing about Kingsholm - if you're born here, you never want to leave. It's just...it just feels like home."
She looks off to the side, watching the woods and hills pass slowly by as you ride. "People here are like family. So when we...lose one...or more...it effects the entire town. All the more reason we are glad for your help. I don't know if Ian mentioned to you, but you will get paid for this. Good gold - the town wants to find our folk and capture whoever is behind their disappearance. Ah, the cemetery gates are just ahead..."

"Mia, it delights me to hear of the joy you have for Kingsholm. To often the struggle for survival in the frontier poses too great a challenge for one to see the good around them. I like to think that I am here for a reason, so believe me when I say I am pleased to be of service. Gods be good I'll be able to speak with you upon my return to Kingsholm. You have been an enjoyable trail companion".

Upon seeing the cemetary gates he ceases conversing and instead focuses on observing his surroundings.
Winter is coming...

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Re: Intro Posts for the Heroes of the Realms

#49 Post by hedgeknight »

Intro Post > Purvan Vanician (Argennian)
(Originally posted between September 15-27, 2013)

A native of Neverwinter, Purvan Vanician grew up in the City of Skilled Hands, putting his talents to use in a variety of ways. He has learned to safely exist in the background of daily life, observing people and events discreetly, but is also easily capable of engaging others in conversation and wit. He admits to being raised by his human father. His elven mother was killed when he was very young, effectively severing his connection to his elven ancestry. One might think a young half-elf like Purvan might go unnoticed by the upper echelon of the city, but not so. In fact, for the past five years, Purvan has been mentored by none other than Elder Reader Salyndra Shaern of the House of Knowledge, the temple of Oghma in Neverwinter. She has watched Purvan closely over the years and has chosen him on more than a few occasions to run errands for her and deliver messages, packages, etc. Today, however, she has summoned him to meet her in her solar for a very important mission.
Elder Reader.gif
"Come and sit with me, Purvan. The tea is still hot."
Purvan does as his mentor beckons and after a few minutes of silent tea sipping, looking out of the solar window, watching the trickle of Neverwintans on the street below, Elder Reader Salyndra finally speaks about why she has summoned the young half-elf today.
"It has come to my attention that lately there has been...several disturbances in Neverwinter Woods, more so than usual," she says with a sigh.

"Mount Hotenow continues to rumble occasionally and spout smoke, and the wood elven tribes are constantly provoked or threatened by the wilds of the wood, but the disturbances I'm speaking of are...magical in nature. An old friend in Longsaddle reported them to me, and I do not doubt his word. Like us, he venerates Oghma and is a seeker of knowledge, especially in the arcane.
"He is sending some of his students to investigate, and I am sending you. I've made arrangements with the Cloaktower to teleport you to the western edge of the wood, just along the foothills of the Crags. The investigative team from Longsaddle will rendezvous with you there and together, you shall venture into the wood and seek out this source of magical disturbance. We believe it to be an old magical gateway of some sort, placed there ages ago, and in time, forgotten. You will gather information on the gateway and return to me as soon as you can."

She hands you a blue velvet pouch and instructs you to open it. Inside you find a translucent sphere. "When you are ready to return, crush this sphere with your foot, and you will be transported back to the House of Knowledge. You leave today at noon. Do you have any questions, my young investigator?"

Purvan sets down his tea gently before his benefactor explains his latest mission. He listens intently and hopes that his racing heart does not betray his usually unemotional exterior. The Neverwinter Woods? Indeed, this will be unlike any local errand he's done to date, an obvious sign that she trusts him. And there will no doubt be danger to accompany said trust.

When the lady Salyndra hands him the blue velvet pouch, he takes it carefully, bowing his head to reflect that he has not forgotten those niceties that are observed to reflect respect upon elf-kin. With those tribes of elves reputed to make their home in those woods, they might come in most handily. He places the pouch gently on the table in front of him.

After she finishes and asks if he has any questions, Purvan responds calmly, in an even, measured tone, that he may keep his surging emotions in check. "I am honored that you would trust me in this obviously important errand, mistress. As always, I promise my loyalty and discretion above all. I will prepare and equip for the mission and be ready when the time arrives.
"The only question I would ask is in regard to the investigative team from Longsaddle. Is there a code word or phrase, or perhaps a way that I can identify them, and them me? The Neverwinter Woods are a dangerous enough place, even without these latest developments that you have detailed. I would, at all costs, wish to avoid any... misunderstandings."


"Ah yes, of course...how silly of me! I was told that the leader of the young investigators from Longsaddle is a Harper and will be wearing this symbol...here."
She picks up a small tome lying on a table near her chair and opens it to a page upon which is a beautiful hand-drawn picture of a harp tucked inside the curve of the moon, surrounded by stars.
harper symbol.jpg

"Anything else you need, Purvan?"


Purvan studies the symbol and nods his head in acknowledgement as he picks up the blue velvet pouch with the magical sphere and places it inside his shirt. "No that is all, mistress, thank you. With your permission, I will take my leave to gather my gear and make ready to depart, as instructed."

Once he takes his leave of Elder Reader Salyndra Shaern, he returns to his quarters, does an inventory of the equipment he'll need and packs his gear, mentally preparing himself for the mission at hand. Just before noon, he heads to the Cloaktower to report for his prearranged teleportation.

When you give your name at the gates of the Cloaktower, an armed guard with spear and shield escorts you into the courtyard that surrounds the tower itself. You are met by three robed wizards of the tower, two men and a woman, likely in their 30's. You follow them around the side of the tower to a side tower that is easily six stories high, but still dwarfed by the massiveness that is the Cloaktower. You enter and climb an ebony staircase that spirals upward to the fifth story and opens into a sparsely decorated chamber where awaits a man in flowing robes of midnight blue. Alongside him are two young wizards, one in robes of gray, the other wearing white.
"You must be young master, Purvan," the man says, smiling. His hair is somewhat disheveled and he wears a conical hat that looks to have been sat upon more than once. "The Elder Speaker arranged this transportation and I must say, it is lovely traveling weather. I do wish you a pleasant journey. Would you step right up here and stand facing the windows."
You comply (I assume) and the two young acolytes open the windows and step back. "Now, close your eyes and ready yourself. You will feel a tug in your stomach, some vertigo perhaps, and then when you open your eyes, you will be at your destination. Are you ready?"
Without waiting for your reply, the elderly wizard begins chanting and making motions with his arms and hands. You close your eyes...and feel the wizard lay his hand upon your left shoulder...and then something jerks you by the belt and you feel like you are falling...only to jolt and stagger as you look around and find yourself standing at the edge of some woods.
The air is cool but the sun, mostly covered by the clouds, is just past noon. Behind you is a massive forest and rising hills and mountains throughout. You can even see the smoke of distant Mount Hotenow, the "dormant" volcano deep in Neverwinter Woods.
Your throat is quite dry and as you quench it with a pull from your waterskin, three figures suddenly come into your view around a low hillside directly in front of you. They are afoot and walking easily with their packs and weapons > one carries a longbow and wears a sword at the hip. The other two are dressed in shirt and leggings, with cloaks; one walks with a staff, the other carries three daggers on the waist.
They walk straight toward you, and as they close, you can see that two are males (the ones with the bow and staff), while the third is a young woman. They stop about twenty feet from you, waiting silently. A few seconds pass and the young woman smiles and pulls aside her cloak...and you see the Harper pin on her shirt. "I am Thaleese, and these are my friends from Longsaddle. Are you from Neverwinter?"

When Purvan sees the group appear, he is sure to make no sudden movements as he stows his water skin and considers their approach. He looks casually all around him, to ensure there are no others present that might be watching or even coming his way. He suddenly inwardly panics and checks to make sure that his brimmed hat is still on his head after his magical teleportation, lest anyone see his ears and confirm his half-breed heritage without his wishes. It's still there (hopefully) and he lets out a sigh of relief.

He will maintain his unassuming posture and don a disarming smile as the group comes to a stop, making eye contact with each of them. He nods when the young woman shows him the Harper pin on her shirt and introduces herself. "Well met, Thaleese. My name is Purvan. And yes, I hail from Neverwinter. Tis most fortunate for me to find you here. I was indeed hoping to meet up with you and your companions, as it were. My mentor has tasked me to join in your field investigation, with your mentor's permission, of course. I offer my aid and service, as I can," he reports, tipping the brim of his hat with his off hand. "Although I do admit to being unaware of any plans you might have presently, may I ask if you have a particular area of interest in which to get started?"

Thaleese smiles as you talks, but when you're finished the man with the bow snorts and says, "He sure talks proper enough, don't he?"
The man leaning on the staff chuckles and Thaleese giggles too, though she at least has the decency to bow her head so as not to laugh in your face. "Please forgive my crude and obnoxious companions," she says. "The mouth with the bow is Drake and the old man leaning on his cane is Bartolo."
"You mean Fartolo!" Drake says with a laugh. "He damn near gassed us to death before we left this morning."
Thaleese giggles again, this time not trying to hide it, and Bartolo scowls at Drake. "It was those spicy potatoes we had with breakfast. They always hurt my stomach." He murmurs, almost apologetically...almost.

It is apparent these three have known each other for some time by their degree of comfortable conversation. It would be nice to have companions like that, who you adventure with, living the stories instead of reading about them, running from danger, fighting when you have to, wondering what's around the next bend...

"...and so I thought we might head to the cabin first...er, you still with me, Purvan?" Thaleese asks, looking at you quizzically.

And to your embarrassment, you realize you had been daydreaming while she was talking.


"I'm still with you," Purvan replies with a slightly embarrassed smile when he realizes he has foregone his training and lost his focus momentarily. "I hope you will forgive my overly proper tongue, perhaps I have been in the city and company of too many of those that run in... higher circles for too long..."

The young investigator takes a deep breath and reasses his focus. "Being outdoors in the field again will cure me of that! I'm ready when you are, lead the way!" he proffers as he makes ready to proceed towards the cabin with the others. When they get underway, he'll unsling his bow and keep an arrow at the ready.

For the next five hours, you walk and talk, and basically get to know your companions from Longsaddle. Drake is originally from Triboar, the son of a ranger scout who guides hunting parties and important folk all over the North. Bartolo's family are bakers, supplying Longsaddle with delicious breads and cakes, pies and cookies. In fact, they ship their wares up and down the Long Road to cities large and small. Thaleese, or "Leesa" as her companions call her, is also a citizen of Longsaddle, having been raised by her aunt and uncle after her parents disappeared on an adventuring trip to Waterdeep. They are her only family and they have worked hard to help her in her studies and training. She doesn't mention the Harpers at all, nor how she came to be one.
Tired and foot sore, you spy the cabin at dusk, nestled back in the trees at the foothills of the Crags. It looks small, but sufficient for your group, with a large front porch and chairs, and a stack of firewood along the eastern side.
"Ah, can't wait to get a fire going," Drake says. "What's for supper tonight, Bartolo?"
"I'd like to have some fish," the young mage huffs, rubbing his belly which is the biggest part about him, likely from sampling all of the baked goods of his family through the years. "I wonder if the pond still has that big, ol'..."
His voice trails off and he stops walking, his face turned to the tops of the trees. The rest of your group looks and only Drake can find the words to describe what you see > "DRAGON!"
A huge grayish beast with leathery wings glides silently over the cabin and snatches both Drake and Bartolo in its talons!
Bartolo screams in agony as the creature's talons dig into his flesh, and as it swoops over you, you see its barbed tail curl under its belly and drive into Drake's back! Bartolo screams again, his cries echoing through the hills, as the creature bites Drake's head clean off!
Cackling laughter fills the air, along with the sounds of wingbeats as the creature climbs and begins to circle around. And to your growing horror, you see a hunched rider on the beast, wild hair and robes flapping in the wind!

Purvan, cursing himself for being caught off guard, takes cover by some trees or the cabin (whichever is closer) and readies his bow. "Get to cover!" he yells out at Thaleese, looking over briefly to make sure she's doing so and to check her reaction to what just happened.

When the young investigator sees that there is a rider, he quickly asks Leesa about it. "A Dragon, with a rider?! Did you or your master know or suspect anything about this?" he queries of his only remaining companion as he gauges distance and contemplates taking some shots if they look even remotely possible.

Purvan takes aim on the dragon rider and lets fly, leading his target, allowing for the beast's turn. The arrow flies true...but smashes against the rider instead of penetrating into its flesh. The high cackling laughter once again fills the sky, followed by a roar from the beast, as if mocking Purvan's vain attempts at injury. But it doesn't stop him from sending another arrow toward the rider, however, this one doesn't even come close.
Beside him, Thaleese pulls a small, thin stick from her sleeve and points it at the beast. "Faina templa!" she cries and two bursts of energy fire from the end of the stick, streaking unerringly to explode against the beast's belly. It screeches in surprise and pain and pulls up, soaring overhead, very close to the tops of the trees.
As it does, you get a good look at it and its rider. The beast itself resembles what you have heard about a dragon, but something isn't quite right from all of the drawings you've seen.
flying wyvern.jpg
And the rider > is a woman...or at least some type of female! She wears an old dirty robe and is barefoot. She sits very tall on the back of the beast, her hair black and frizzy, her skin the deep blue of midnight. Her eyes are yellow in the shadowy light of dusk and she cackles again and points a black-taloned finger at you as she disappears from view.
Seconds later, you hear something crash through the tops of the trees somewhere behind the cabin. "That was no dragon,"Thaleese says, breathing hard, her eyes wide with shock. "It was a wyvern. Did you see the stinger on its tail? Oh, Bartolo and Drake!"
Tears fill her eyes and she turns to you as if to ask what to do next.

Recognizing the sinking, helpless feeling in his stomach when he realizes that his first arrow flew true but appeared totally useless against the strange-looking, robed woman dragon-rider, Purvan watches with a sudden renewed interest and hope when he witnesses Thaleese produce and discharge the wand on the Wyvern, to obvious effect.
"Ha! Well done, Leesa!" he exalts as he breaths a sigh of relief to see the horrible and deadly menace fly off. He silently chides himself for being caught with his pants down when the beast and it's rider attacked and grabbed up two of their party. There will not be a second time, he tells himself.
Hearing the crashing sound and landing of something beyond the cabin, Purvan readies another arrow and nods to his lone remaining companion. "That fiendish menace dropped something yonder, past the cabin. Let's go see what it was. Be ready, though! It could be dangerous, or even a trap!"

Purvan will lead the way around the cabin and approach the area where he believes he heard the object crash land. He keeps an arrow nocked and ready, just in case...

Unable to really speak, Thaleese simply nods and walks alongside you as the two of you enter the woods behind the cabin. You walk along, steadily climbing through the woods, searching for whatever crashed through the trees.
"Did you see...??" Thaleese asks after a minute or two of walking. She points ahead up the slight rise of the hill, keeping her wand close and ready. "I thought I saw something move up ahead. You don't think..."
Her voice trails off and she looks at you, her eyes wide, nervous.


Purvan will get down behind cover and motion for Thaleese to do so as well, using a hand to calm and steady her if he thinks she needs it. Otherwise he'll keep his eyes focused on that slight rise in the hill, and his bow at the ready as he leans close and keeps his voice low."Let's stay behind cover here for a second, and just watch and listen. If we don't see anything more, we'll creep up careful-like for a closer look, okay?"

Once he's reassured that Thalesse is calm, cool, quiet and with it, he'll try to concentrate and listen while he watches. If he doesn't see or hear anything new within a few minutes, he'll begin looking for the best cover to approach the slight rise where she saw the movement. He'll ask Thaleese to follow him and then begin creeping that way, the bow and arrow in hand to shoot anything that pops up and tries to kill them.

You watch silently for several minutes and just as you are about to move forward, the shadows move about 60 feet ahead of your position and a figure stands up from concealment. Holding out his hand in a "stay calm" manner, he says (in Common) "Evening, friends..."
Winter is coming...

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Re: Intro Posts for the Heroes of the Realms

#50 Post by hedgeknight »

Intro Post > Dalivere (wolfpack)
(Originally posted February 20, 2014)

The morning along the High Road is cold > a damp cold coming off the coast that sinks into your bones. Dalivere remembers that damp cold very well. It’s one of the reasons he moved from Port Llast to Neverwinter nearly 30 years ago. And right now…he’s thinking how good a hot bath would feel after sleeping on rocks and sticks for the past week.

“Head right along the north road until you can smell the Last Port,” instructed Master Brevian, “then turn right and make for the woods, keeping the mount on your right, always on your right.” The mount was the infamous volcano Mount Hotenow and the grassy lowlands and foothills at its base were Dalivere’s destination. Master Brevian had given him enough supplies for a two week trek, but Dalivere fears it may take longer. Perhaps he can forage a bit once he gets into the woods.
Shaking his head and sighing deeply, Dalivere tries to forget the threatening dreams he’s had for the past few nights. Dreams of blood and pain, his body broken and wounded by the men who forced him on this quest in the first place.

“It was your own damn doing!” Master Brevian had scolded when Dalivere told him of his debt and what he needed to do to get out of it. “I warned you, Dali, about those Luskanites! Can’t trust ‘em as far as you can spit! And now you’re running off to…I should be going with you! Dwarven Oak and Meadow Giant ain’t nothing to play around with! And if you get caught with it…well, you’ll find your ass in a sling! If you ain’t hauling it all the way back to the Last Port!”

Master Brevian was pushing sixty-five years of age, and often referred to landmarks by their names of old or his own names for them. Thus, the Last Port instead of Port Llast. He was a touch addled, but he was a good man, better than Dalivere deserved…and he knew it. But, he couldn’t think about all that now > he had a job to do and best get at it. So, he pulled his fur coat tighter around his neck to keep the wind out of his shirt and looked to the east, to the distant forest and smoking mount, and turned off the road to begin his trek toward Neverwinter Woods.

Ow! Damndable thorns!
Dalivere said as he wrenched his leather breech's free from the pricker bush

I should burn this whole place to the ground.
he mumbled under his breath.


Pulling the giant fur collar of his cloak closer to his ears and sticking his hands under his armpits Dalivere reflects on the events that put him in such a miserable situation.

The dice had to be loaded. There is no way anyone could ever roll double bones eight times in a row. He muttered indignantly.

Master Brevian had been right you just can't trust Luskanites.

Dirty cheaters, disrespecting such an honest game of chance.

Shaking off his regrets he once gain began looking through the underbrush for the rare plants he needed to deliver to clear his substantial debt.

Purple veins on the leaves facing the morning sunhe mumbled under his breath looking for the Meadow Giant.

He knew what to look for, he had spent 1/2 a humans lifetime studying plants, and he knew it grew in the area, but being a rather unstable plant it was easily strangled by weeds.

sighing Dalivere stood up and began his trek once again

By Tymora please let there be some Meadow Giant or Dwarven oak over this next rise if there is I will never play dice again...... with luskanites.......with those luskanites........unless the odds are really really good.

He begins to shuffle forward and stops once again

or if no plants at least a brothel

The thought bringing a warm smile to his face Dalivere once again continued his search.

But there were no plants over the next rise, nor a brothel, just more open country leading toward the looming presence of the Neverwinter Woods and the smoking mountain at its heart. The thought of having to be near that ominous peak made Dalivere shudder, but there was nothing for it > he had to find what he was looking for...or not go home. Sunset found him about a half-day's trek to reach the woods so he picked a spot out of the wind and hunkered down to try and sleep.

In the middle of the night, Dalivere jerked awake with a gasp and looked around wildly for his attacker. It took a few seconds to realize he had been dreaming again. His attacker was laughing and sliding a dagger into his back right before he woke up. And with a wince, Dalivere rolled off the small rock that had somehow managed to squirm under his coat while he slept. But as he sat up, he saw the moon above on a clear cold springtime night in the North...and he saw the plants. The moonlight reflected off the full, purple-veined leaves as they spread to catch the first rays of the coming dawn...where they would then bask for the day, wilt, seed, and die...only to be reborn again a few weeks hence.

It's the stems you want...

The voice of Old Nelda had come unbidden to his mind > the druidess of Port Llast taught him many things about nature while he ran and played in the park and wooded areas around the port town. But her daughter, Zelda, taught him much more than herbalism. And he repaid her by breaking her heart...

Dalivere shook off the memories of Zelda's face and her lips and her...and set his mind to the task at hand. Cutting the thick stems from a half dozen plants, he placed them side by side on a thin piece of leather and rolled them up before putting them in his pack.
Glad to be halfway done, Dalivere looked to the mount, still smoking in the distance, knowing with a groan he had at least a two day hike to reach its lowest slopes.

Dwarven oak grows all along the slopes of Mount Hotenow. It's the only place I've ever seen it!

Smiling at Old Nelda's instructions, Dalivere set out in the pre-dawn darkness, hoping to get a few miles in before sunrise.

Dalivere lets his mind wander as he continues his trek. commemorating his past faults and regrets while reasoning them to himself.

She is human I would outlive her far to long. She is better off without me

he mumbles to himself as his hand wanders into one of the pockets in his great fur coat to fondle the set of dice within.

Stopping for lunch he begrudgingly eats his dry rations and takes off his boots rubbing his aching feet.

Unsatisfied and sore Dalivere wonders if he should have bought a horse rather than his spectacular fur coat but quickly shakes off such nonsense thinking and continues his journey.

Two days later, feet aching, thighs and back sore from lugging his gear, Dalivere reaches the outskirts of the forest and promptly collapses on the ground. Staring up at the canopy, he watches as the light of the day fades, while the sweat cools on his face and neck. Overhead, two gray squirrels chase one another playfully through the boughs; a courtship ritual that has gone on since the beginning of time. Smiling at the romping critters, he sits up and looks around for a suitable spot to make camp. He figures another day or so of hard hiking will get him into the region where he could find the last item on his list...dwarven oak.
Once the sweat dries on his body, the chill evening air calls for a fire...but Dalivere knows better than to chance it here. Master Brevian warned him about calling attention to himself, so instead of a fire Dalivere finds a deadfall oak that didn't survive the harsh winter winds. He clears out a spot underneath it, gathers several armfuls of pine needles and dry leaves for his bed, and then digs around his pack for something to eat.
An hour later, he jerks awake, having dozed off out of sheer exhaustion, half-eaten deer jerky still in his hand. Something had woken him...something making noise. Blinking a few times, Dalivere peers into the darkness of the forest...and catches movement out of the corner of his eye off to his right. He hears a snuffling sound...something...something big...is walking through the undergrowth...coming right at his position.

He quickly moves behind the big tree and casts invisibility

No more has Dalivere faded from view than the something big stumbles out in the open where the hiding Elf can see it. It is a large boar with gleaming yellow tusks and bristled black fur. It smells like a mud hole, but its eyes are glazed and it staggers and nearly falls, barely able to stand. As it turns around, Dalivere can see two broken spears or arrows sticking out of its ribs.
wounded boar.jpg
A few seconds pass as he considers what to do...and suddenly, an black-fletched arrow strikes the boar behind its front shoulder, spinning it around. It squeals and sits down on its haunches and then a second arrow drills it in the chest and it falls onto its back, rolls on its side, and heaves a deep sigh, choking on its blood.
Dalivere doesn't even have enough time to begin to wonder what is going on when three figures appear a few yards away.
goblins.jpeg
His Elvish eyes mark them as Goblins, one an archer, another carrying a broken spear, the third a curved sword. It was the archer's arrows what felled the boar at the end.

"Nice shooting, Teex," the sword wielder says. "That be a fat one, alright!"
"My spear slowed 'im down fer ya!" replies the Goblin carrying the broken half of the spear.
The Goblin archer, Teex, says nothing; it just grins and motions the other two ahead...

Dalivere invisible stands back and observes. When the goblinbs head off he will follow at a distance.

While the Goblin archer, Teex, stands guard, bow ready, the other two Goblins begin to dress the boar. All the while, they talk and laugh about the hunt, the kill, stupid elves, a Goblin girl with big tits they'd like to bang, an aerial battle between a wyvern and a griffon they saw yesterday, "B'Hara's pet" they called the wyvern, and finally this:

"Need ta hurry back, pronto! Else, da black robes is gonna be mad!" says the Goblin with the broken spear.
"Yah, can't believe they got the drop on the elves!" The sword wielder says, while chopping down a sapling for a carrying pole. "I personally liked seeing Celadon getting the shit beat out of him! Heh!"
The spear Goblin shakes its head. "I don't trust 'em. If dey would do dat to da elves, what dey gonna do to us when da portal be working right?"
"Bah! No need ta worry, Haig. The boss, er, what be his name again?"

Teex tries to say something, working his jaws and clicking his teeth, but no words come out, just some throaty grunts.
The other two Goblins look at each other and shrug. The sword-wielder continues.
"Anyway, the boss said he'd treat us right if we helped. Said he'd even give us some elves for some sport! Now, ya can't knock that, can ya Teex?"
Teex chuckles but doesn't take his eyes off the forest.

"See? Teex ain't afraid. C'mon Haig > help me get this piggy on the pole."

The two Goblins, along with help from Teex, finally wrangle the big boar on the pole and with grunts and cursing, they manage to hoist it and prepare to move out.

making sure all 3 goblins are standing close together Dalivere will unleash his color spray on them.

Dalivere steps out of hiding, deliberately making noise so the three Goblins will turn and look in his direction. Their beady eyes try to focus on what is not there, and Teex has an arrow ready and drawn to skewer anything he sees. Except he can't see the invisible Elf...until Dalivere sticks out his hand and unleashes a colorful spray of magic!
The vivid, fan-shaped spray of clashing colors not only blinds the Goblins, but dazzles them into unconsciousness, even as Dalivere comes into full view on a few feet away. Haig and the sword-wielder drop the dead boar and then drop to the ground. Teex staggers, falling backward, arrow flying high into the canopy.

Dalivere will slit the throats of the first 2 and then tie the sword wielders hands and feet together.

Preparing his charm spell he then throws water in the living goblins face and when he awakes casts charm person.

The Goblin shudders awake, sees an Elf looking at him, realizes he's tied up....and then...after a few seconds...cocks his head and says, "Hey there > why am I tied up? And..." he looks around at his Goblin friends dead and bloody... "what happened to Teex and Haig?"

Speaking in goblinoid

Thank goodness I came along when I did.

I happened upon the scene to find you and your friends tied up. There was someone in black robes standing over your friends and cut their throat. I was able to chase him away before he made it to you.


"Damnation!" the Goblin says, rolling over and looking at the bodies of the other two Goblins. "Never thought Teex would die like that. He could hear a deer fart at a hunerd yards, and had eyes like an eagle."
The Goblin rolls back and looks at you suspiciously. "Say, why am I still tied up?"

Because I was checking on your friends and have not had a chance to free you yet.

Dalivere will take his dagger and cut the bonds.

So do you know who these black robes are? Why kill you and your friends, perhaps you know something of their plans and they wanted to quite you.

"The black robes be veddy myst...mystur...mustardy...strange peoples." The Goblin says, rubbing his wrists before hopping to his feet. He picks up his sword and dagger, checks the blades, and sheathes them. "Here's what I knows about 'em > they come to the woods by magic through some stone gateway or something. But they not from the woods. Theys from the sea! They talk 'bout using the gateway to open some portal...straight to hell!"

The Goblin explains all this while rifling through the pockets and private things of the two dead Goblins. You note with interest a rather bulky pouch he takes off the belt of Teex, along with a nice hunting knife, and he twists and pries a misshapen bracelet off of Haig's right wrist.

"The boss man, er, can't remember his damn name, Char...something er other, visited our tribe about two weeks back, saying he needed scouts and hunters for his men. Showed a lot of coin, so me, Teex, and Haig signed on and have been hunting food since. We was lucky enough to be there when Celadon and his elves attacked the black robes' camp! Woowhee! Now, that was a fight! What elves they didn't kill, they slaved, and the boss man took his time giving Celadon an ass-whooping. That was my favorite part of the whole thing!
"But...don't know why they would kill us. Frackin' humans! You can't trust 'em at all!"


Sounds like maybe they didn't really want to pay you. maybe they were planning on getting their coin back.

tell me do you know where this stone archway is and could you take me there friend.


"The only archway I knows of in these woods is on the northern side...which ain't too far from the black robes camp. We could go to camp first with that boar, and then on to the archway if you want."

The Goblin sucks his teeth and shakes his head. "Poor ol' Teex and Haig > we been friends since we were weaned off the teat. Shame it is, I tells ya! Might be thinking about getting a little payback off them frackin' humans! Anyway, their camp is about a day's walk, maybe two if we lug that boar."

The Goblin then sticks out its grimy hand and says, "Thank you again for saving my life friend. Kolle is my name. What be yours?"
He pronounces his name "Ko-lee"

Dalivere shakes his hand

They Call me Dalivere, Dalivere the dashing.

If we go to your camp, the black robes could be waiting. If the black robes are so attached to this archway, it may be best for us to go there first and see what they are up to. Your friends need avenged.


I am afraid the boar will slow us down and could even give away our position. we have to try and move quickly and quietly friend.
Dalivere says smiling.
You do want to help me don't you?

"Hey, I'm yer buddy!" Kolle says, giving a yellow-toothed grin. He takes a knife and carves a thick slab of meat from the boar's haunch and begins to gnaw on it as he walks.

And by the end of the day, you kinda wish you'd have taken some of that boar along too because the Goblin doesn't stop except to piss or shit and he makes quick work of that. You walk all night and through most of the next day. Your feet are sore and your thighs and lower back are about numb with exhaustion, but as the sun begins to set on another day in the North, Kolle says, "We can camp here for a bit, or we can push on. The archway is another five, six hours hike."

I think we should rest here my friend I am very tired and have some studying to do.

We should find a nice hidden space in case the black robes come looking for you again.

Say Kollee have you ever heard of a plant called Dwarven oak? It's very important I find some


Dalivere will explain what the plant looks like. he will also share a little of his wine with the goblin and teach him how to play dice.

"I know just the place," Kolle says, hurrying off another 200 yards or so. He leads you into the edge of a thicket of brambles and laurel on the side of a low ridge. He grins and points up...and you see an old tree house...that has seen better days.
"Been a few years since me and the boys been this far north, but we built that house to hunt these trails for deer, boar, and er...anything else that walks by. It'll hold us sure enough!"

You have your doubts, but once you are in the tree house, you can't help but admire that it is built solidly, even though the woodpeckers have done a number on the roof! It only has a roof and a floor with no walls except for some slats to keep you from tumbling out to the forest floor twenty feet below.
When asked about Dwarven Oak, Kolle scoffs and says, "Hells bells! I wish yud have told me that before we lit out! There's at least two or three on the side of ol' Smokey! Guess we could head back that way after looking at the archway..."

You play some dice, which Kolle is familiar with, and then later on, after a few shots of grog, the Goblin drops off to sleep. Yawning, you study your spells and listen to the night sounds of the forest. It's cold and you're grateful once again for the fur-lined coat.
As you nod off to sleep, you get the feeling that something is happening in the forest...right now. Something of importance...something that may chance your life.
Shaking off the feeling, you settle in and finally allow yourself to rest.

Dalivere memorizes his spells and in the morning shares some of his rations with Kollee.

I wish I had mentioned before we left as well. oh well your right, we can grab it on the way back. In fact maybe you can map where I can find it in case I ever need to come back again.
Dalivere will take out some paper and quill.

After preparing in the morning they will set off for the archway, Dalivere can't help but dwell on
what Kollee has already informed him about the black robes and how they arrived in the wood.

Walking through the dense forest so early in the morning is refreshing and invigorating...even if your calves and thighs are so sore you can barely walk. Kolle doesn't seem to mind, however, and sets a fast pace, intent on reaching the stone archway as soon as possible. The goblin won't slow down and gets angry when you ask for a brief break. He seems bent on pushing and pushing on ahead...as if something is driving him.
And before the morning draws too late, you find yourself approaching a dark glade surrounded by a stand of old hardwoods. It is only then that Kolle slows his pace, approaching cautiously, steel in hand. Suddenly, an green-fletched shaft thuds into the trunk of a tree about a foot over Kolle's head.
"Shit!" he cries, diving for cover behind a bush.

Dalivere hit's the nearest cover as well peeking out to see if he can identify where the arrow came from, the words of an invisibility spell on his lips.

You catch glimpses of movement through the trees and you hear the ring of steel as if a sword being drawn from its scabbard. A few tense seconds pass and then your elvish ears distinctly hear > "I'm hoping it's not that demon or any other minions of the abyss!"
This is soon followed by a different voice in reply > "If it is, then by the grace of the gods we will send it back to the hell that spawned it!"

From the underbrush, Kolle crawls close to you and hisses, "My left ear don't work too good since me and Teex got in a fight a couple years ago, but I coulda swore I heard someone say 'demon.' You reckon there is a demon about?"

Whoever it is, is questioning if we are demons.

We are no demons, we mean you no harm. dalivere yells out

Stay down and let me do the talking, and keep your cool and follow my lead no matter who is on the other end of that bow. he whispers to kolle

Dalivere stands hands raised in a gesture of non violence.

My companion and I were coming to investigate a stone archway. His companions were slaughtered by a black robed mage and we seek his purpose in these wood.
Winter is coming...

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