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Against the Kobolds

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d20 = 16

 

Merrillee's eyes grow big as saucers, and she very nearly sits down on the ground again as the import of the wolf's words sink in. She remembers many happy hours exploring the Forest of Talking Trees, and is horrified at the thought of it, her village, and all her known world turning into desert.

 

As she boggles up at the dire wolf, for once all grand delusions escaping her and feeling quite small indeed, a bit of half-remembered lore pops into her mind - could this be the caretaker druid of the grove? And this mention of searching for a pup to relay the grave news to the long lived, pointy eared ones - could this be ... a Quest? Suppressing her growing excitement - and fear - she replies

 

My...my travels will take me to the southwestern part of the Shining Forest. If you consider me worthy, Great Wolf, I would find these caves you describe and relay your message to the long-lived ones within.

Edited by Shiqra

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@Oggy

 

After settling into your new life in the forest, you quickly began picking up skills and knowledge from Thantas, the Half-Elven Ranger who rescued you and took you in. He raised you like a younger brother, did his best to nurture you, and tried to blunt your rage over your loss by giving you a purpose in life. As you grew into your role as a Ranger you began spending more time out ranging, sometimes with Thantas and sometimes alone. Recently times have become troubled as dark things have begun to creep into the shadows beneath the boughs of the great trees. Everyone you talk to whispers of ill tidings and terrible things in the night. In addition the Black Ear tribe has started pushing further and further into the forest again. In the past months you have encountered, and eliminated, half a dozen scouting parties. The last engagement ended with the remaining scout wounded, an arrow in the ribs, fleeing to the west. You left Thantas to clear up the rest, and pursued him into the forest. The orc had a decent head start on you, and despite the wound and intermittent blood trail, you can not seem to quite catch him. For the last eight days you have tracked him as the trail led you beyond the western border of the forest and into the hills and dales to the west. Around noon on the eighth day your trail draws to a close. You find the orc, or what remains of him, in a pile of effluvium and a wide arc of bloody ground.

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"Good day to you as well sir!" Arthrand replies. "I've had a bit of a journey getting here, and sadly, my scholarly pursuits have left me a little less used to such long travels as I once was. I was hoping you had some salts or a salve for my feet. I have more travel in the days ahead, once my friends decide to show up." With mock frustration, Arthrand continues, "They are always late and keep me waiting, but at least tonight, I can find a nice comfy inn and get a good meal and a soft bed, and soak my feet." With a laugh, he continues, "I'd hate to develop a blister while on the road with them, because I will never hear the end of it."

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@Alfreda

 

The old man gives you a soft, almost sad smile, and replies, "Indeed child, I do be waiting. The drama, it be starting soon I think. Tell me little one, do you believe in fate?"

Alfreda nods, slightly wide eyed. "The fates come when you are born and determine what your life will be, and also they come when there is a battle, and decide who will die."

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Oggy checks the body and the surrounding area for signs of what animal took his prize from him at the end of this hunt. Tracks are his first priority. Oggy grumbles to himself "and I've lost another damn arrow."

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"I do not think the McRae's would have any interest in parting with such an item, for any amount. I cannot, in good conscience, supply you with such information. The McRae's are well known, however, and you will find them without our aid, like as not."

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@Merrillee

 

The great wolf appears to be ignoring you for the moment, distracted by something. Her entire body goes rigid as she faces northwest. She noses open the satchel hanging around her neck. Compared to her size it appears quite small, but up close you can see it is big enough to be a backpack for most. She pulls a stick or wand from the satchel, and holding it in her teeth begins to draw in the dirt, all the while shuffling her feet in a strange pattern. That completed she noses again into the satchel and emerges with a mouthful of what appears to be some sort of dust, and with a "whuff" scatters it over the scratches in the dirt.

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@Athrand

 

The young elven woman nods to you and replies, "Some sea salts mixed with dried Hellebore for infection and inflammation, and a touch of Aloe leaf for soothing and mild anesthetic should do the trick. If you have half a moment I can mix that up for you without any difficulty."

 

As she bustles about, chatting as she mixes, you notice the cloaked lady at the next stall seems to be conducting some sort of transaction with the proprietor, making no moves to hide her actions. After a few coins change hands she turns, and begins moving down the lane away from you.

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@Alfreda

 

His soft, almost sad smile appears again, briefly, "That do be not exactly what I meant little one, but close enough. Shall I cast the bones for you?"

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Alfreda knows it is best not to tempt the Fates, but she nods anyway. The ale, the warmth of the room and the events of a very long day are making her weary. She glances around the room looking for signs that the evening is coming to an end.

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@Oggy

 

There are no shortage of tracks. Sorting through them is another matter. The tracks from the hapless orc are easily discernible. As you sort through them you notice that some of the tracks seem to predate the orcs demise, large wolf or dog tracks, improbably large, that are heading south and slightly east. There are also a large number of tracks that you cannot easily identify. They possess three primary toes, as well as a hind claw, but there is something strange about them, the impression they make is not ordinary. It appears that whatever made these tracks were following the same path as the canine, but happened to intersect the Orc. There are many of these scattered around the corpse, tracking through the blood, detritus, and mud surrounding it, before moving off again in their original direction. In addition you find several small grayish scales slightly tinted with red. Upon examination you are suddenly reminded of a shed snake skin. While sorting through the tracks you find the rear third of your arrow. It looks like the shaft and fletching have been chewed and gnawed by small pointy teeth.

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@Eldan

 

The figure listens to you, and after you finish it cocks its head to the side, as if listening to someone else. After holding this pose for a few moments it looks over its shoulder and makes a beckoning gesture. Then with a shrug the heavy layers of cloth slide to the ground, revealing a skeletal frame covered in rusting mail. The skull is bare except for a few shreds of dried flesh and hair clinging to the bone. There is a malevolent blue light burning in the eye sockets. As the cloth hits the ground you are nearly driven to your knees by the reek of decay. The figure draws his sword with a motion more befitting a living opponent, moreover one who is overly familiar with the action. As the sword slides free, it speaks again, in a different voice, with no trace of former accent or inflection, "It is unfortunate that we could not come to some accommodation. Your assistance might have forestalled your fate. However, as you are not agreeable, I'm afraid you have precipitated events. My foes are no fools, and they are ever vigilant. I will not let those troublesome gnats delay my plans again. If you were to carry word within earshot of their lackeys, and they are numerous, they might become suspicious. There is no shame in falling to my minion. Know that your death will be a pathway to glory as you are reborn into my new army." With the final words the blue light fades from the eye sockets, to be replaced by red, as the skeletal figure raises his blade and advances.

 

Roll Initiative.

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Merrillee notes the wolf staring in a different direction this time, and wonders if she is tracking the darkness she had spoken off. Then, determined to not be caught unawares again should something else find its way to her fire, she calmly picks up her sword and places it in its scabbard at her hip.

 

As the wolf begins her ritual, Merrillee watches the process with keen interest, periodically glancing up to scan the underbrush and the forest beyond, although she is certain that the wolf will know before she does if anything approaches.

 

d20 = 11 (to determine if I observe anything when I periodically scan beyond the campfire)

Edited by Shiqra

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Oggy picks up his broken arrow and puts the remains in his backpack for further inspection later. He also puts some of the grey scales in a small belt pouch. The tracks are too strange to ignore. Oggy decides to follow the tracks to find their owners.

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Dread , creeps into Eldan's bones as hefts his massive weapon once more, threatening to consume his thoughts. His training, however, along with his instinctive battle skills, push the multitude of fear aside. Calmly, knowing a few spare moments may be all he possesses, he implores his Lord to remove these foul creatures that he may continue to serve him in good deeds.

 

d20=10

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