The Haunted Wood of the Dark Mountains, Gran March, Greyhawk
Day Three. Morning. Monday, November 14th, 576 CY
Cold, foggy, cloudy
The lost heroes awaken from one nightmare and find themselves in another, far more horrific.
From their mouths, they spit blood that is not their own. Mouser is in shock, utterly lost and confused.
"We must get back to where we were," cries Mondegreen frantically.
Ingrid, Pyotr and Urdur weep in shame and use bitterly cold snow to wash away the grisly crimson from their hands and mouths. But the stain of guilt cannot be erased. Ingrid sobs,
"We should return to the Ashblood Colony and make sure that they are safe! ...Make sure that we haven't..."
Long Bo the druid goes quiet. He wonders whether his god has forsaken him, or if He yet will. Gruesomely, he cannot identify the source of the small bits of bloody flesh between his teeth. And he finds no animal life in sight; the heroes' bestial selves must have frightened it off. Then his thoughts turn blacker still.
Hothhil valiantly tries to salvage some glimmer of hope.
"We are cursed, but only at the full moon. We can still do good when in these bodies. Let's fetch what is left of our things and be on our way. We can discuss strategies to keep ourselves in check as we walk."
In despair, Brevos tries to follow the inhuman, wolflike tracks they themselves had made last night, in the hopes of finding some way back to the unholy black altar in the haunted wood, and their lost possessions. The forlorn ranger is certain he has found the trail.
In anguish, Telkis urgently follows Brevos, avoiding eye contact with the rest of his blood-smeared companions. Rudolf follows and then, so do the others.
As Pyotr searches for materials with which to build a fire, they trek through the eerily quiet forest in stunned silence, consumed by thoughts of darkness and woe.
Soon they are shivering uncontrollably. With each passing hour, they know time is running out. The sun will set and the moon will rise. The spectre of the coming transformation, an unspeakable transgression upon their very beings, weighs upon them, haunting them.
By late afternoon the tracks are gone, if ever they had found them. They realize with bleak, crushing certainty they are still hopelessly lost in the cursed wood of the dark mountains.
Then suddenly, through the endless trees and mist, the heroes notice a motionless figure ahead... standing, seemingly waiting for them.
They cautiously advance upon it and its shape comes clear. With grim resignation they see it for what it is:
Death, come for them at last.
For some, it is a welcome relief.
But it soon becomes apparent that this macabre form is merely a stone statue. The heroes spy tombstones nearby. They have found a cemetery, a large one that extends beyond the fog-smothered boundaries of their sight.
They pass through the graveyard...
....come out the other side, and find themselves atop a wooded bluff looking down upon a town.
It is afternoon, but the misty village, easily twice the size of Briarsgate, is strangely quiet. The cold, ragged, hungry heroes cannot see a soul.
Actions?!
PC Status:
- Brevos, Half-Elf Ranger 3: Move: 12", AC: 10, HP: 11/31
Grey Mouser, Half-Elf Magic-User/Thief 2/3: Move: 12", AC: 7, HP: 7/15, Spells: 2/2 1st lvl
Hothhil Thornbush, Elven Fighter 3: Move: 12", AC: 9, HP: 13/20
Ingrid Esthof, Human Cleric 4: Move: 12", AC: 10, HP: 16/22, Spells: 5/5 1st lvl and 4/4 2nd lvl
Long Bo, Human Druid 4: Move: 12", AC: 9, HP: 18/30, Spells: 6/6 1st lvl, 3/3 2nd lvl and 2/2 3rd lvl
Mondegreen Cindereye, Human Magic-User 2: Move: 12", AC: 9, HP: 2/8, Spells: 2/2 1st lvl
Pyotr Whitetip, Half-Orc Fighter 3: Move: 12", AC: 9, HP: 9/30
Rudolf Rassendyll, Halfling Thief 3: Move: 12", AC: 6, HP: 5/12
Telkis Brassfang, Gnome Fighter 3: Move: 12", AC: 6, HP: 10/32
Urdur Shimmerstone, Gnome Illusionist 3: Move: 12", AC: 7, HP: 4/9, Spells: 2/2 1st lvl and 1/1 2nd lvl
PC Magic:
Player Resources: