1. The hunt ends?

[KingOfCowards]

Boggs will volunteer to take first watch.

[Spartakos]

Bedwyr will take a middle watch (I see him as taking catnaps whenever the opportunity presents, and being good at falling asleep easily).

[Pulpatoon]

Oelle happily takes third watch, it being his preference to rise early and devote some time to his studies.

He prepares both Interruption and Recuperative Balancing of the Humors.

That is, Magic Missile and Healing

[mb.]

Sorry it's taken so long, but could you each do a roll+WIS for your watch?

[Spartakos]

watch check [2d6-1] = 6-1 = 5
Man, I cannot roll Wis checks to save my life...

[KingOfCowards]

First Watch: [2d6] = 11

[Pulpatoon]

Third Watch: Wisdom [2d6+2] = 7+2 = 9

[mb.]

Other than the sounds of wolves in the distance, occasional pebbles sliding down the slope, and the buzzing of fist-sized black beetles, the night passes uneventfully. But you each have your own individual experiences… Please only read the text intended for you.

Boggs

You awake standing naked and alone, on top of a tall tower. Above you in the sky a roiling, dark storm is forming. You wear the four chains, one around each of your upper arms and thighs. As you watch, the chains tightens one by one, squeezing into and eventually through each of your limbs. Oddly, there is no pain or blood, and the sensation and sight are not as horrifying as you'd expect. Completely severed, your limbs drift like balloons up into the sky. A blood red hole opens among the blue black clouds, and swallows your limbs, whereupon you awake suddenly, short of breath and drenched in sweat..

Bedwyr

You nod off during your watch, and awake on the forest floor, but immediately you know you're near Whitetree, not where you went to sleep. You stand and look around, and realise nothing is moving – no wind, no animals, nothing – the forest is completely still. From a distance, you hear a melancholy, alluring tune begin. Walking towards it, you round a wide-trunked tree and are confronted with Llewellyn's head, hanging on a large hook through the eye, suspended from far above on a slender silver chain. Your father's head whispers, "thief" over and over as you pass it, following the music. Increasing your pace, the music becomes louder as you stumble over a hand lying in the dirt. It crawls towards you like a spider on its nimble fingers. You notice a silver chain around the wrist (where the rest of the arm is severed) and the word "weak" branded into the back of the hand in elven script. Somehow you also recognise that it belongs to Conallen Starhand. Fleeing from the hand and towards the music, you find a thick tree wrapped in thick silver chains. Circling the tree you see the body of beautiful Elithea, pierced in many places by the wicked hooks on the chains, and held by them against the tree and a couple meters above the ground. As you stare, your mother opens her mouth and the music becomes louder. A red glow issues from her mouth, and you are drawn struggling towards it… you wake suddenly, short of breath and drenched in sweat.

When you look around, you find a small box lying near your head. It is made of glossy black wood, and decorated with inset silver details. On the top is a pattern of seven interlocking circles, forming a larger circle together. There appears to be no way to open the box, but when you hold it close to your ear, you hear the same haunting tune from your dream. No one else is awake, so you're the only one to have seen the box so far. Please roleplay either showing the box to the rest of the party, or not, in which case we will assume it is your secret.

Oelle

You awake in Urbem, your home. You walk the streets, looking for something (what you don't know), when you see a red glow. You rush to follow it, always a few steps behind as it disappears around corners and through doors. The glow seems to be the solution you seek, though you know not what that might be. As you rush through the streets, you realise that you're not in Urbem after all – much is familiar, but much is also wrong, including strange creatures that would never be tolerated in orderly Urbem and architecture that defies your eye's ability to clearly understand it. As you think you've almost caught up with the glow, you suddenly realise it's behind you and a wave of painful shock washes over you as you spin to face it… and wake suddenly, short of breath and drenched in sweat.

As the sun rises and light returns to the forest, you notice the crutch and bandages lying on the ground, and no sign of the gnoll.

What do you do?

After the night's rest you all regain HP equal to half of your maximum HP – if I remember right, that should put you all at max HP again. Please also mark off two rations – one lost in the landslide, another consumed during Make Camp.

[KingOfCowards]

Boggs swears at the disappearance of the gnoll, and checks his bag to make sure his the group's treasure is still there. He seems a little shaken by what seemed to be a restless sleep, but mentions nothing to the others.

[mb.]

Nothing appears to be missing from Boggs' bag, although the four chains have become tense and contracted into four hard balls of silver links.

[Pulpatoon]

Oelle sighs at the missing gnoll. "Well, it was only a matter of time before he figured out his leg was fine, I suppose. Still, fresher tracks to follow."

The Doctor stuffs the nose of his mask with fresh aromatics, and then checks and discards his bandages from the previous day.

"Did I mention that the gnoll's leg was fine? Unnaturally so? The tendon Boggs had just sliced had already reknit itself, by the time I attempted to treat it. There wasn't even scar tissue. So, we're not only tracking down a large pack of gnolls in the service of something red and powerful, but they regenerate. Also, it seems the chains are a method of communication, or at least observation, so they probably know we're coming."

I notice the Doctor doesn't have any rations in his inventory. Which, I guess, means I'm draining others' resources? Sorry, guys.

[mb.]

Neff sniffs, "we can count ourselves lucky to be alive by my reckoning. Can't say who was sleeping on the job, but we owe that gnoll a world of thanks for leaving without ripping our throats out." He scowls at everyone in general, then clinches the straps on his pack, "we'll move quicker and quieter without him, so assuming he's on the way where we're going, it can't be too hard to find, nor probably too much longer."

He hoists his pack and leans against a tree, very obviously waiting for everyone to ready themselves. He spits something foul and black on the ground, and chews.

[Pulpatoon]

Fast broken and ablutions done, Oelle hoists his pack and gets ready to hike.

[KingOfCowards]

From what the gnoll told us, we are still a half day to a day away from the pack. At least we should make better time without a prisoner.

[mb.]

Assuming Bedwyr is also prepared to press on...

Neff ranges ahead and after some careful maneuvering down the rest of the slide, he reports back that the gnoll's tracks are clear and easy to follow. The temperature rises quickly with the sun, and before long the air is thick and muggy, the absence of any breeze encouraging clouds of midges to buzz into your nose, mouth and collar.

Bedwyr: as a native of The Wood, you know a way to keep the midges at bay. What is it?

[Spartakos]

Very sorry about not keeping up; moving on...

Bedwyr seems more subdued than usual in the morning, but shrugs off the gnoll's absence, saying only "Good riddance." He eats only sparingly at breakfast, and spends much of the time while the others eat sharpening his sword, though it is mostly an exercise in wearing away his oilstone.

When he sees what happened to the chains, he makes a queer sign with his hand and says, "I mislike those things...or anything that moves around or changes shape when it oughtn't. Reminds me of faerie magic. I say we leave them here. Bury them, maybe." If anyone protests, he says, "I agree with what Oelle said...maybe these things let the 'Master' sense their presence. Knowing we're coming is one thing, but knowing our exact location is something else. Or maybe instead of curling up into balls, they might feel like scampering around our throats and tightening up."

(Other guys' thoughts on leaving the chains vs keeping them?)

Later, as the team trudges through the woods, Bedwyr skips as lightly as if dancing. When the midges gather in thick clouds, he tells his friends, "Easily solved." Casting about, he soon finds what he wants and carefully approaches a bush with very dark green, glossy leaves. When he is near enough, his sword flashes out in a silver streak, chopping off a leafy frond, which he gathers up and hastily retreats. The group can see the rest of the bush moving, quivering and waving its remaining branches, but Bedwyr pays it no mind.

"Here," he says cheerfully, cutting off leaves and passing them around. As he explains, he rubs the leaves vigorously on his exposed skin, leaving an astringent odor. "The fwytawr shrub exudes a natural repellent; keeps most insects away. Of course," he says offhandedly, "it does this so that they insects don't eat its fruit...it needs the fruit to attract birds, which the plant ensnares with its fronds and strangles to death. Hidden among the lower leaves are hollows where the corpses are deposited, to be dissolved to nourish the plant."

[Pulpatoon]

Regretting that he does not have time to make a thorough study of this fascinating plant, Oelle pockets a leaf or two.

"We do not know the nature of the chains, but the possibility of danger from them seems to outweigh any benefit from holding on to them."

[KingOfCowards]

Boggs is resistant to give up their only spoils from a well-earned victory. "Damn their master anyway. If he knew we're hear, why aren't his dogs upon us yet? We could melt 'em down. Let's see him tighten into balls after that." Bedwyr's comments only grate on his nerves, but Oelle's common sense appeals to his nature of survival, and he eventually relents to burying the sack near their old campsite, where he can come back for it.

[mb.]

So Bedwyr uses the leaves (and smells rather strongly because of it), Oelle pockets but doesn't use them, and Boggs ignores them – is this right?

You spend the next few hours pushing your sweaty way through thick bushes that, in the current weather, seem to slap at and stick to you, as if to hold back your progress. Those without the benefit of the fwytawr leaves are swarmed by midges which fly into every opening in your clothes to die in your sweat. Uncomfortable blisters develop as boots and armor rub and slip against slimy skin.

Neff follows the escaped gnoll's tracks until they join those of the alpha, following the small river between gentle hills. Slightly dazed by the oppressive weather, trudging almost like sleep walkers, it takes you all a moment to realise something's amiss: ahead you see Neff, squatting just below the peak of a small hill. He looks back at you, eyes wide, raises a finger to his lips and motions you to keep low and join him.

[KingOfCowards]

So Bedwyr uses the leaves (and smells rather strongly because of it), Oelle pockets but doesn't use them, and Boggs ignores them – is this right?

My apologies, that was not my intent. Boggs would take any aid he could from the annoying midges. I guess I figured that it was either assumed and/or necessary to continue on.

Boggs crouches down and moves up closer to Neff.