Re: Chapter One

[Forgeless Kilik]

Kilik's eyes widened at Osvald's announcement, muttering to himself, Surely the Wayfinder guides our steps, to bring such a company together this night...

He turned to face the group. This be no mere chance that brought our roads to this doorstep. Give thanks as ye may, for tomorrow marks a new beginning for us all: A journey home and a finding of the way for strangers well-met upon a dangerous road.  These are sacred things that should be marked.

Then, in dwarvish, he directed his eye out the window where the storm still blew Watch over us wanderers... he looked about the room as he lapsed back into common, we'll need it.

-----------------------

Entering the stable, he was immediately moved by the sight of the dying horse - if that's what she is.  He layed a hand upon her feverish flank, whispering a prayer of guidance as he examined the sickly beast: Help me find the path, and I shall walk it to the end.

(Medicine check with Guidance to see if I know anything about her affliction.)

15

-----------------------

Kilik has been on the road a fair time and needs to resupply with some various travel sundries, but nothing overly complicated.  He'll take care of that in the morning, and be ready to depart with the others after performing a simple travel blessing upon the group.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Forgeless Kilik' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 10

--------------------------------

#2 'D4' : 4

[Shorjahl]

Shorjahl is surprised to hear of Osvald's connection. At first he is suspicious, but seeing the man so genuine in his emotion and the sorrow in his eyes, he believed the connection. Certainly this was no mere coincidence, something was guiding them to this point.

He walked to Osvald and took his hand and forearm in both of his, gripping him firmly and assuring him that we would see the task through to completion. He was a valuable companion, but Shorjahl still remained cautious at the man's capabilities. He seemed a drunk, but Shorjahl had seen and done worse things than stumble and drink himself into a stupor. His wretchedness after Taneesa's harsh words flashed again in his mind. No time to dwell on that now, he had a clear goal, with objectives he would feel no guilt about completing.

After the last few of his new companions turned down for the night, he thanked Cherous for his hospitality. Shorjahl entered the stables to examine Treetrot, as he was confident he would be able to detect a unicorn's magical presence as more than that of a simple, if however handsome, horse.

Upon seeing the fine animal, he approached it as quietly and gently as he could. Shorjahl concentrated, focusing his arcane energies through the bracer on his wrist, detecting if the creature's magical energies resonated with that equal of his interpretation of a unicorn. (Cast Detect Magic, targeting the horse.)

--------------

Shorjahl left the stables and Cherous' home, returning back to Fesulbrelt's small estate. The hin had stayed awake, waiting for Shorjahl's return. Shorjahl was brief with the recounting of the tale, and that of their quest to locate the lost horn among the Small Teeth. Shorjahl slept well in the guest room among his own things that night, trying his best to forget the grisly images of slain kobolds rent asunder by his arcane powers.

--------------

The following morning, Shorjahl studied his spellbook and committed his spells to memory long before dawn. He had no gold, save the five silver Cuss had given him last night, and no need of anything in the town that he didn't already have with him. He made his way outside of the stables to meet up with the rest of the group.

(OOC note: if Fesulbrelt has anything of interest, any comments, advice, or whatever at all, we can backtrack that a bit and go over it, even in a meta-scale.)

[AnnaMaul]

As Anna woke the next morning she sat in meditation to collect her spells.  During her meditation she had several passing thoughts.  

This clan leading the kobolds...  They couldn't be my clan.  I wonder if they know OF my clan.  It could be possible to simply threaten them into giving me the horn if they know of my father.  If they know of him though, would they not know that I've been missing for years?  We are a goodly distance from our lands, it is possible the fear of Clan Maul has kept this other tribe from being near enough to learn anything of significance.  And if I were to use my reputation, would it get back to Grol somehow?  The last thing I need is for him to know anything about where I may be.  I will have to be very careful indeed.

She gets to her feet and begins stretching and checking her gear for wear and tear.  With everything looking to be in order she didn't have to worry about buying a new backpack, thankfully.  With everything in order she steps outside of the stables to meet with everyone else.  Seeing Shorjal she nods curtly out of respect.  Having proven himself to be the greatest warrior out of the group so far he was, for all intents and purposes, the leader in her mind.

Was a plan finally decided on last night?

[Shorjahl]

Shorjahl nods to the druid as she steps out of the stables, a small clenched smile on his lips as he pulls his cloak tight across his robes in the brisk morning. He keeps his voice low so as not to disturb the others, "Indeed. We'll be heading into the Small Teeth in search of the horn, with Cherous or some of his men bringing the steed behind. Once we retrieve it, we'll meet in the middle."

Shorjahl shifts his weight, staying warm against the cold. "So, what do you know of our destination? Any threats we might face?"

[Custer Thickett]

Custer turns back to the fire upon listening to Cherous, Osvald and Kilik.  He stares into the coals as the full scope of the adventure set in his mind.  There is much more to this than a Thickett scorned family..  Custer places the shovel back in its rack.  He hears Agata, Your are hear for a reason.  Custer nods to those left in the room as he turns his attention to gathering his gear that has dried by the fire.  As the half elf begins to turn to leave behind Cherous, Custer ask her, "Where might I store some of my heavier gear in the morning that I'd rather not tote through the woods again?"  Upon her answer, Custer excuses himself and heads for the stables.  

At the stables, Custer pays little attention to the horse or the group around it, and instead finds his place to rest and busies himself taking stock of his gear.  I need a bedroll and a blanket.  I wonder if 10 days rations is going to be enough.  Surely we won't be stuck out there for 10 days.  I should get a fishing rod.  I've been wanting one.  I'll need a pot and some oil to cook the fish with.  I also need a tent.  That would all would be so heavy, though.  He said we'd be walking at some point, and I couldn't carry all that and my clothes.  I'll leave the clothes behind, but what tools could I spare?  Oh, what are you getting yourself into, Thickett?  Custer sits on a block near his gear, and rest his head in his hands.

After a moment, Custer falls asleep on his hand and begins to fall, but wakes and catches himself with a start.  Bed, I need to bed.  Bed where?  His thoughts are muddled.  He climbs onto the closest object that resembles an unoccupied bunk, and falls asleep.

The next morning wakes to the sound of talking just outside the stable, and the still snoring Dwarf.  Custer doesn't move or open his eyes, and listens.  Shorjahl and the half-orc, Anna?  What was the snoring dwarfs name?  He needed to remember, but figured it may come to him if he get up and about.  Custer sat up and rubbed his eyes, yawned, and then noticed some of his gear was still strewn about the floor.  Blast.  Custer shoved it all into a pile by his backpack, and made way to the talking outside.  Hitting daylight at the door, he stopped, yawned again, and stretched until he felt his back pop.  He grabbed at the spot and headed over to Anna and Shorjahl.  "Been a while since I slept so well on something so hard.  Morning.  Custer waits for them to turn to address him so as to not interrupt their conversation further, then ask, I need to gather a couple items of supply before mounting up, and I'll need to leave a couple items here to save weight.  My packs already overflowing.  Do you think we will need a block and tackle, or a shovel?

-------

After talking himself out of buying a tent, iron pot, and oil, Custer will want to purchase the following:

bedroll 1gp
blanket 5sp
fishing tackle 1gp
chalk 1cp
waterskin, 2cp
soap, 2cp

total 2gp 1sp 5cp

Custer will want to try to haggle for a better price.  I'm guessing that is a persuasion roll?

12+6= 18

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 12

[Kellar]

"Your end..." was the last thing Kellar heard before he snapped awake in the stable.

It's been a while since I've slept more than a few hours, I must have been exhausted.

Kellar stretches and scratches where the hay had left a temporary impression in his light blue skin. Not the best bed, but itching is better than sleeping on rocks.

He takes a moment to go over his gear, checks his trusty lance, javelin and battleaxe, they seem to be in fine condition.

Kellar steps out of his area of the stable and sees Anna, Shorjahl and Cuss speaking softly. Good morning, offered Kellar. It seems as though I need a few things from the general store. I'll be ready in a short while. Just let me know what the plan is, I don't mind taking point for us. I've done it before,   stated Kellar.

Kellar needed some rations and a bed roll, so he heads down to Errol's Supply and purchases a bedroll and extra waterskin for 1gp, 2cp.

This is about as light as I can travel while having enough supplies.

Kellar returns to meet up with the group and prepares to head out.

[AnnaMaul]

Anna shrugs in response to Shorjal.

Its not an area I lived in or know much about. It's outside of my clan's general area of knowledge, though if we do end up dealing with Kobolds and Orcs it will probably be best I deal with them. Not only do I speak orc for obvious reasons, my clan was well known for being particularly vicious and it is possible they may know me by name, if not reputation. With any luck I can get us the horn by reputation alone. Without luck we will likely be fighting our way out.

As the others wake up and address the two of them she nods.

There is a bit of a rush, so make it quick. Last thing we need is to be losing daylight if we can help it.

[Osvald Hale]

Osvald awakens to the murmer of voices outside the the stables in the dim dawn light. Roughly brushing a few errant bits of straw from his hair he rises, surprised to find himself barely hung over at all. The events of last night have seemingly instilled in him a new purpose, and with a hoarse cough he gathers his few possessions and strides out of the stable stall.

Grimacing against the light from the rising sun, his eyes narrow to dark slits. Perhaps he is a little more hungover then he thought.
"Ah, hell," Then noticing the mage, Shorjahl, the blue-skinned man, and the Druid half-orc standing nearby he clears his throat, "ah... I mean... Morning."

With a yawn and sloppy stretch, he makes his way down the still muddy lane way towards Errol's supply, stopping at a quiet section of outer wall to take a piss--and almost immediately waving embarrassingly to a passing pair of towns folk. "...Damn it, Osvald." he mutters grumpily to no one and continues on to the just-now opening shop.

Osvald will purchase:

Backpack 2gp
Bedroll 1gp
Chalk (x2) 2cp
Flask 2cp
Rations (x4) 2gp
Rope (hemp) 1 gp
Tinderbox 5sp
Torch x5 5cp
Waterskin 2sp
Whetstone 1cp

(Total: 6gp 8sp)

Osvald wont attempt to haggle with Errol, but he will produce the giant antler he has carried with him from the far north, curious to see if the shop keep has any.... 'exclusive' items hidden away that may be worth a trade for such a majestic trophy...

(When their business is concluded, he will rejoin the others at the stable and quietly make ready to depart.)

[Ao]

Osvald: Selai raises her eyebrow at you, not speaking for a moment.
“A man of Hale, you say? This will be the jewel in my songbook, should you return, adventurer. I shall truly know that you are the blood of Ausen. But, first…you must return.”
Wordlessly, she snatches up her lute and heads to bed.

Kilik: Bending down close to the Mare, you can see clearly that her breathing is laboured. She shivers with each breath. But no mucous or rot has formed in her mouth, and her eyes are neither milky nor unfocused. No signs of parasites, or the telltale weakness that deteriorating diseases bring. A potent virus, perhaps… but no traditional medical ailment known to the Realms is obvious on the beast.

Shorjahl: As Shorjahl performs Detect Magic, the results are puzzling. The beast itself is a common horse, but the star upon her forehead radiates like a magical talisman…

Feusbrelt is relatively unconcerned with Shorjahl’s parting. He is a friendly Hin, and wishes Shorjahl all the best on his journeys, paying him a balance of 5 silver that was outstanding for his identification services.

Custer: Custer’s haggling has a sharp edge, and Errol happily makes a deal for the Halfling. He sells you the items for 2 gold -even-

Osvald (at Errol’s): Errol looks fondly at Osvald’s antler, whistling through his teeth.
“That’s a mighty fine trophy.” he says to the ranger, crossing his arms.
“I’m afraid we’re not stocked up with anything that adventuring types are after. We’re a workman’s town, you see. That said…”

Here, he rummages behind the counter, producing a very fine looking ornamental dagger with a dark wooden handle.

“A traveler traded me this piece, awhile back. Needed basic supplies, and bartered it. It’s well crafted, and it’s made to hide in your boot. See?”

He demonstrates by shoving the dagger in his boot. It fits nicely.

“I’d gladly trade the dagger for the horn?”

[No need to reply to the trade in-character, Osvald. Simply give me a yay or nay in a footnote, in your next post, and alter your inventory accordingly]

=============================

Morning dawns on the new fellowship as they ride briskly through Gaoler’s Bend on Cherous’ mounts.

Tall apartment dwellings wrought of heavy beams and beautiful ornate windows loom over them, candles flickering in the windows of their earliest rising denizens.

The click-clack of hooves on the cobblestone echoes through empty streets, the heavy oak door of Errol’s Supply slamming shut as Kellar joins the party.

A halfling guardsman waves to you from atop the stone wall on the south end of the hamlet. Two others pull aside the small gate, and the party rides through into the rolling hills of Amn…

[…]

Autumnal trees line the southward path, framing pastoral meadows that roll into a deep valley. Plumes of red and orange erupt from the treetops, birds trilling their morning greetings to the passerbys.

Slowly, however, the path becomes less defined. More and more rocks litter the way, until the once smooth road is rendered uneven and jagged.

Keeping your mount sure-footed becomes an exercise in concentration.

The Small Teeth loom in the distance, partially obscured by morning mist.

The mounts are swift, however, and you gain ground quickly. Wild underbrush grows in patches around the base of towering dry bark trees, their leaves falling gently from above.

By noon, the silhouette of Hoat’s Pasture lies ahead on the trail. The ground has become muddied and wet, brown grass stretching out into the greying treeline.

Hoat’s Pasture is a log-walled settlement on a rocky hill. A leathery old hunter waves at you from the front gate, inquiring as to your business. He is familiar with Cherous’ steeds, however, and welcomes you in.

“I’m Argus Hoat, the huntsman.” He says plainly, guiding you past a dozen cabins to a hitching post, where he takes the mounts from you. Two dozen huntsmen, armed with axes and swords, walk about tending to tanning hides and tall-burning fires.

It smells of pine, and for the first time you notice that you can see your breath.

“I’ve known Cherous a long while. He is an honourable one. I’ll be certain his steeds get their care. If you’re headed to the Brown lands, take care. My boys have seen Kobolds in spades, and orcs ride through like wagons on the trade way. Best move slow, and watch the way. They’re merciless creatures.”

[…]

The Brown Lands stretch out before you, a series of relentless peat bogs that suck at the soles of your boots.

Leeches infest the sedentary ponds, some of which stretch out for hundreds of feet, despite being only two or three feet in depth.

It is slow going through the murk. Though the sun beats down from overhead, a thick fog floats over the bog lands, creating a humid, damp atmosphere.

Swarms of mosquitoes and flies congregate about you, biting exposed flesh and buzzing noisily in your ears.

Thick reeds grow over your head in places, receding abruptly to deep, black ponds that seem to drain into other walls of heavy reed.

Pine trees grow in elevated clusters, their less fortunate offspring rotted and black from decades spent submerged in the mire.

Hours pass, and the Small Teeth draw nearer…

[…]

It is near dusk, when a chittering sound echoes from off in the distance.

You find yourselves on higher, dry land flanking a lazily moving river. The muddied ground is covered in pine needles, giving your boots relief from the sucking of the deep bog.

Carrion birds fly noisily overhead, but the chittering does not diminish.

Kellar’s ears prick up. It is a noise that he recognizes. Someone - or some thing - speaking in Draconic.

The party draws closer, and Kellar can hear the call distinctly. A hoarse voice, echoing out over the bog. A timid, shaking, shrieking, tiny voice.

“No! Nooo! Gods no!! Please, not Orbaugh! Noooooooo! Aaaa!”

The voice does not relent its shrieking, the sound ringing in Kellar’s ears.

======================|

The sound is coming from the west, and the sun is beginning to set. You’ve traveled since morning, and its been roughly six hours since you left Hoat’s Pasture.

Approximately 48 hours remain until night falls on the eve of the “Esrelembar”, the night that Selai said the unicorn Maleil will die.

Osvald - you are more familiar with the mountains than the brown lands, as the brown lands is an ugly mire that no one actually desires to spend any time in. Still, you have some knowledge of the area.

Exhaustion, specifically from the gruelling travel through knee-deep water, is beginning to wear on you. The terrain where you are currently is sufficient for a campsite, and a fire should you desire it. Otherwise, you’ll take the chance of moving forward and potentially not finding dry ground for several hours in the dark, which could lead to disorientation and further exhaustion.

The shrieking noise sounds like it isn’t too far off, but you can’t tell due to the echo. Definitely less than a half mile away, however.

Let me know if you’re choosing to approach the noise (and how you approach, stealth/not stealth, etc.), or if you continue north, or if you camp, or if you choose to do something else.

EXP: All +20 XP!

DM Note: I hope the pacing isn’t too disorienting. I know we went from Gaoler’s Bend to the middle of a bog in one post rotation. But I like to keep things moving in PBP, and I hope you’re following along OK. If you ever really need to have a moment in a place like Hoat’s Pasture, asking someone a question or something else, feel free to let me know and we’ll see if we can retcon it.

I just want to keep the tempo of the game high, so we can cover a lot of ground and not get stuck having an RP conversation with a cheesemonger for a week.

(though, that would be kind of cool. Separate thread?)

[Kellar]

Kellar turns his head to adjust to the skittering he hears off in the distance.

That's Draconic, it sounds small, weak. Kobold most likely...

With a slight frown, Kellar turns to the group, There's something speaking in Draconic near our position. I can't make out the exact location. It sounds like a cry for help. Could be a trap.

Kellar keeps re-positioning his head to try to lock in the source of the sound.

It's not stopping, it's continually crying out, continued Kellar. Kellar looks to the horizon and sees that it's starting to get dark.

Kellar sighs.

I don't think we should investigate the sound. I'm exhausted. Trudging through this muck has made my muscles sore. Maybe we should setup camp, and post a watch rotation, offered Kellar.

Kellar drops his pack from his shoulders and lays his javelin on top of it, within arm's reach.

What say you, questioned Kellar, looking at his companions.

[Ao]

[[Kellar, and future posters... I recommend that you make a Stealth check, just in case the group decides to stealthily investigate the noise. As outlined in How To Sneak As A Party.

The last person to post always makes the decision. Obviously, you guys will discuss your course of action. But I always take the direction of the last person to post in any given rotation, unless there's some sort of major dispute going on in the party (which hopefully never happens) in which case you guys should figure it out in an OOC thread.

I'm only providing this recommendation at this point, because its new to you guys. I won't meddle in the future.

Cheers
-Ao]]

[Custer Thickett]

Custer, like most Halflings, hates wearing boots.  He keeps his leather boots rolled up in his pack, however, for occasions such as this, and as uncomfortable as they were, he was glad to have them.  In terrain like this they were a necessity, and had helped at first.  Once they were good and wet, however, they had begun to rub his feet and ankles raw, and at each stop Custer was rubbing them, most likely making his discomfort worse.

I have to be the first Halfing stupid enough to traverse such a mire.  Agata spoke, You're brave, love.  Custer thought, Brave?  Nay, I'm daft.  He felt very fortunate to be traveling with a group, but began to question his decision to take this journey the first time they decided to cross deep water.  His larger companions waded across quickly, and Custer was left starring into the water.  He began to follow, but then backed to the shore, and set down his pack.  He would need to carry it over his head.  He had left some items of clothing and a couple spare tools behind to lighten his load, but his spine would tell him it wasn't nearly enough.  When he made quite a show of struggle trying to get it balanced over his head, he said aloud, "Uh, whoa there.  Um, fellas?  I seem to be in need of some assistance.   I'm pretty sure this will sink me out there."

--------

Once the group stops on the dry high ground, Custer tries to quietly lower his pack to the ground, and sit upon it.  He lets out a muffled sigh, and looks to the tree tops as he listens to the sound.  If I lived out here, I'm sure I'd sound the same.  Heh, I bet it's saying, 'I want to live on a meadow.  This place stinks, it's wet, it's dark, and the insects are unbearable.'  

Custer turns his attention to Kellar as he translates and offers his assessment.  Custer crosses his legs, and rubs a booted foot with one hand as he swats at flies with the other.  "Oiy, I'm exhausted as well, and if it is only your muscles that are sore, count yourself lucky."  Custer looks about the group, and upon hearing no immediate response to the blue man, he offers, "Aye, perhaps it is a trap, if that is so, then just setting up camp while a hostile force is nearby and knowledgeable of our position would invite an attack.  More like that it's trapped, or getting its rear swatted with a switch for stealing the last potato.  Mayhaps we help it and it will help us."  Custer raises an eyebrow, "You speak its language, maybe you can just call out to it and we won't have to walk out there anyway."  Custer shrugs.

-----------

Stealth Check 10+7 = 17

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 10

[Shorjahl]

Shorjahl wearily drops his pack, his spell book wrapped in a waterproofed satchel sliding out amid the mud and grass. He exhales slowly, steadying himself as he shoves it back in the pack. "I'm not one to let someone or something suffer, and by its tone I'd guess it not receiving a simple switch. I do agree with you though Cuss," he breathes slowly again, getting his heart rate back under control. "I'd rather investigate than sit here obliviously at camp. I'm willing, so long as I'm not alone."

He looks to the others, clenching his bearded jaw. The mud and muck starts to slowly slide off from his muddy trousers, robes, and boots, as if propelled by some invisible force. He glances down waiting for a response, a slight humming and the gentle chime of a tuning fork filling the air. Within a moment, his clothes, even his face appear clean as if freshly washed.

-------

I forgot to roll my stealth in this post, sorry for double post.

[Shorjahl]

Rolling for my Stealth: 19 = 17+2

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Shorjahl' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 17

[Kellar]

Kellar, Stealth Roll 11

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Kellar' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 11

[Forgeless Kilik]

Kilik eyes the gathering dusk suspiciously. After this bit o' slog, I'm in no mood to wake up with a blade in me belly. I'm not much when it comes to skulking though shadows, but I say we do this quick and quiet.

He whispers a quick prayer under his breath: Maybe you've got a carpet of pine needles to quiet my heavy feet, eh?

-----------------------------------

Stealth (disadvantage) + Guidance: 6

(Whaddaya want...I'm a dwarf?)

-----------------------------------

[If we're able to get to a better vantage point, Kilik's of a mind to try to cast fog cloud to create a 20-foot radius sphere of heavily obscured fog (provided that that seems likely to improve the situation).]

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Forgeless Kilik' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 14, 3

--------------------------------

#2 'D4' : 3

[Ao]

[Hey gents. Anna and Osvald haven't posted. Normally I would count them both as automatic failures for stealth because of it, but due to the new nature of those rules I will roll for both of them off-site.
-Anna: 14
-Osvald: 13

It seems from your posts that you wanted to approach the sound. You guys had some wonderful posts - just be certain that Im absolutely clear on what it is you intend to do by the end of your post. I need a concrete action, so always pretend that yours will be the last post of the day ]

============

With a small measure of deliberation, the party makes a break for the direction of the muffled noise.

The sun has been mostly eclipsed by the horizon, and the last vestiges of pink light filter through the reeds and trees, casting long shadows across the murky landscape.

You emerge from the canopied tree cover of the small pine forest to overlook a muddy, reedy meadow. Osvald signals a stop, as a small campsite comes into view.

You are well shielded by a small outcropping of bushes, and the campsite occupants have not noticed you.

[Group Stealth Check = Success]

100 feet in the distance, a group of Kobolds toil around a large bonfire. It is immediately apparent where the source of the chittering is coming from; one of the Kobolds holds a tiny creature in its claws, and is beating it senseless against a tree stump.

From this distance, you can tell the creature is about the size of a large bird. It’s wings are larger, however…and shaped like a bat, or a dragon.

The creature screams out again and again,

“Gods! Aaaaaaugh! Eeeeek! Noo! Poor Orbaugh! Poor Orbaugh!”

*WHAP!*

The Kobolds laugh gleefully, a group of three others gathering to watch as the brutality ensues.

On the northern edge of the campsite, you can see a large humanoid brute sitting on a log. Even in the failing daylight, it is clear that the beast is an orc. A wicked-looking axe and shield rest against the log bench, and the orc is warming its hands by the fire.

The beaten creature’s voice is beginning to falter.

It will clearly be dead in moments.

=======================

Ok guys, You are directly east of the campsite, at 100 feet. (Assume 100 feet from yourselves, to the kobold harming the small creature - Kobold designated ‘GRAVETOOTH’ in the lair’.

There are eight Kobolds that you can see around the campsite. They are stacking logs, and preparing to boil some sort of stew in a large metal pot over the fire.

There is also one orc, sitting on the log on the north end.

The campsite is relatively open, though a small thicket of pine trees and shrubbery flank the campsite from the northern edge, about 20 feet away from the Orc.

There is also a small shrine, or shelter, on the northern edge near the aforementioned thicket.

It looks elven in architecture, with thick, coarse reeds growing around it. Even from this distance, you can see directly into it, and it appears vacant.

Because you passed the group Stealth check, I’ll allow you to close to 60 feet from the campsite for free, without being noticed. This will allow you to double move (charge, basically) to close to melee, though won’t permit for any melee attacks.

From that distance, you can also hail the campsite if you should choose to engage its denizens in some sort of communication.

Remember that you cannot double move and attack. You can, however, single move and make a ranged attack.

If you elect not to engage the campsite, you have still aroused no suspicion, and can freely retreat back the way you came, or to the north (to continue your trek to the mountains).

The Kobold / Orc encounter is stat’d up in The Lair.

EXP: +20 to Shorjahl, Custer, Kellar, and Kilik

[Shorjahl]

Shorjahl's gaze darkens as he sees the small creature speaking language. It is obviously alive, sentient, and being tortured by these despicable beasts. He feels the power churning within him, bubbling up through disgust, frustration, and rage. Those nearest to him can feel the air suddenly crackle, the bracer on his wrist quietly humming with innate energy.

"Surround them as best as you can, keep the Orc alive." he speaks over Cuss, as if he couldn't even hear the hin. "Be ready."

Shorjahl stalks forward, staying in the shadows of the trees and reeds. His companions hear a gentle chime as three packets of warped air rip above the bog toward his targets. Just as the kobold is poised to strike against the small creature again, its head disintegrates like a squashed melon, showering the campsite with bits of skull and brain.

The other kobolds look up in surprise and fear, as a second creature's chest is caved in from the last two missiles puncturing its lungs and heart.

--------

Rolling for Magic Missile.
1+1 and 2+1 = 5 vs Aik
3+1 = 4 vs Gravetooth

Try to maintain my 19 Stealth as much as possible.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Shorjahl' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D4' : 1

--------------------------------

#2 'D4' : 2

--------------------------------

#3 'D4' : 3

[Custer Thickett]

Custer keeps his voice low as he addresses the group, "The Koblods look to be distracted with their catch.  Mayhaps we can lure the Orc away from them for a one on six chat?  If we kill his companions first, he might be less cooperative.  Far be it for me to say what an Orc will or will not do, however.  What do you think, Anna?"

Custer hears Shorjahl speak, but ignores him.  He cannot ignore the sound of the air bending and speeding across the meadow, however, and he quickly turns his attention to the mage.  Custer's jaw drops open a bit as he realizes what the human has done.  

He has been in similar situations before, and knows well enough that there is no time to discuss the lack of wisdom in Shorjahl's tactical planning. Custer nocks an arrow, and takes aim at one of the kobolds.  Then, Custer changes his mind and adjust his aim for the Orc starting to rise from his log, then draws and looses in one fluid motion.  Custer does not watch the flight, and instead darts north along the edge of the treeline, trying to stay low and out of sight.  I hope I didn't kill it, but I sure hope I hurt it.

----------
[Rolling ranged attack with shortbow + sneak attack damage.  (disadvantage for range. shortbow is 80/320.) Hoping I got him before he got to his shield.  In the lair you say his AC is 13 but in the post his shield is resting on the log.  Does that AC include the shield bonus +2?  If so, I hit, if not, I miss.  Not sure how advantage for sneak attack but disadvantage for range works out. ] 

To hit 9+3=12  Damage 6+3+2=11

[Rolling stealth for movement and continued concealment. ]
4+7=11

[Custer Thickett]

Roll!

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 9, 10

--------------------------------

#2 'D6' : 6, 2

--------------------------------

#3 'D20' : 4

[AnnaMaul]

Anna, seeing her party in action, decides to try and halt the process a bit.  She holds her hand out forward and lets loose the vines around the feet of the kobolds and Orc.  The green, twisting tentacles of the earth reach through the soggy ground and grasp at the legs of the kobolds and the orc.  With any luck it would hold them there, or at least prevent them from escaping. She holds the spells tight while peering through the brush to try and see if she knew the Orc at all.

-----

Entangle - DC 11 vs Strength

[Perception = Roll +2+3=19]

[DiceMaster]

The member 'AnnaMaul' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 14

[Osvald Hale]

Osvald hissed a silent curse as the first kobolds head caved in with wet squelch, the body wavering for a moment before falling stiffly--he quickly moved from his vantage point in the reeds and broke off from the party to loop around through cover closer to the Orc.

He makes it maybe ten quick paces before the kobolds seem to realize what is happening, dropping their bundles of damp logs, and pandemonium began to break loose. As he manoeuvred through the dense undergrowth he heard the muffled thrum of a bow behind him. A sound like boughs bending and branches breaking echoed from the clearing, and through the reeds he caught glimpses of the Druids spell erupting from the earth.

Quickening his pace, Osvald figures he is now far enough from the others to not reveal their position to the Kobolds, and, vaulting from a rotted stump, veers in towards the clearing, crashing through a stand of cat-tails, and bellowing a deep curse in Undercommon towards the Kobolds.

Without slowing his pace, his hands drop to his dagger and trusty hand axe, ready to trade a few good blows. Osvald eyeballs the Orc, knowing if he can put him down, the Kobolds will likely break and easily be dispatched. He sizes up the Orc looking for any advantage he may gain, just now noticing the arrow protruding from the orcs torso. 'Well there's one!' Osvald thought merrily, ready to exploit this injury... (favoured enemy: Orc)

Gritting his teeth for the coming fray, he glances from this new vantage point for a better look at the wailing creature beaten against the stump (perception) and if he can recall anything about such a beast, (knowledge: nature)

(First movement with attempted stealth to circle part way around the encampment, second  movement directly inward towards the fight.)

Stealth: 8+2 = 10
Perception: 17+2 = 19
Knowledge: nature 18+2 = 20

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Osvald Hale' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 8, 17, 18

[Ao]

[Custer, you are correct about the orc's AC. It is 11 this round due to the shield being off]

[Ao]

The Kobolds cry out in surprise, confusion and terror rippling through the campsite.

The small birdlike creature falls to the ground as ‘Gravetooth’ collapses, a smoking crater in its chest. The creature flaps around meekly, hoarsely screeching as the entangling vines rear up from the earth, engulfing the camp.

—————[Entangling Vines immobilizes 3 Kobolds]
—————[3 Kobolds break free of the entangling vines]

Custer can see the Orc rise to his feet quickly, staring along the treeline for just a moment. His eyes lock with Custer, and he has certainly seen the rogue.

—————[Custer Stealth vs. Orc Perception check, Failed]

With a snarl, the Orc cries out in Draconic to the Kobolds, as he picks up his axe and shield and begins running for the shrine on the north end of the campsite.

—————[Kellar, Draconic, realizes that the Orc is saying “Gragh! By Cyric’s scorn, what is this treachery? Fall back you louse-eaten bastards!”)

—————[Anna, Perception check results]

Anna’s eyes widen as she catches a glimpse of the Orc’s face. She recognizes him, though he is grown now. She last saw him when he was a whelp.

He is Shuul, the son of Shenkah, a warrior of Clan Maul.

But the shield he bears, it is emblazoned with a strange crest. A laughing skull, superimposed over a purple sunburst. This was not the sigil of her people.

—————[Osvald, Stealth results: Failed]

The Kobolds, in wild panic, are searching the edge of the treeline for any sign of their attackers. One of them spots Osvald skulking in the bushes, and chitters out a warning to his fellow camp-mates.

—————[Osvald, Perception/Nature results]

As the huntsman careens into the fray from the shadows, he can clearly see the creature lying upon the earth beside the desecrated Kobold.

It is a Pseudodragon. Tiny dragons with poisonous, barbed tails, and limited telekinetic powers. One spoke to Osvald once, in Baldur’s gate, from the shoulder of an elven wizard. It complimented him on his boots.

The Pseudodragon is badly injured. Both wings appear broken, and it appears nearly unconscious.

As Osvald charges towards the orc at the shrine, another Kobold snatches the Pseudodragon up by the legs, and begins sprinting through the entangling vines toward the same shrine.

The other Kobolds follow suit, though 3 of them are immobilized by the vines. They begin to panic, two of them grabbing slings and taking haphazard shots at the charging woodsman.

—————[Kobold Ript Attacks Osvald (SLING): Miss]
—————[Kobold Ban’tuk Attacks Osvald (SLING): Miss]

Now, the three unhindered Kobolds have joined the Orc at the shrine. It is a ten-foot structure, with large stone pillars choked by reeds and vines.

From within, the Orc snarls, hoisting a javelin planted in the earth. With a grunt, he throws it mercilessly at Custer.

—————[Orc ‘Shuul’ Attacks Custer (Javelin): Miss]

The javelin goes just wide of the halfling, embedding in a tree beside him…

====================|

OK guys.

+Shorjahl is still at least 60 feet away from the campsite
+The campsite is totally overrun by vines. 3 Kobolds are stuck there
+About 20 feet north of the campsite is the Shrine, where 3 Kobolds and the Orc have fallen back to
+Custer, having attacked, is about 30 away from the Shrine, at the treeline to the east
+Osvald, having just charged, is closing on the Shrine for melee (though given the Kobolds charging there, I’ll allow you to fall back free to where Custer is if you would prefer)

****The Pseudodragon is being held captive by 'Kobold Sok', in the Shrine

**** The shrine provides a +2 AC Bonus vs. all ranged attacks for the Kobolds and Orcs.

——Kellar and Kilik. I can assume that you guys charged alongside Shorjahl, unless there’s something else you would have done. You cannot, however, take another attack to make up for last post rotation.

EXP: +20 EXP to Custer, Osvald, Anna and Shorjahl

[Custer Thickett]

Custer drops to his knees and slides to a stop on the pine needles as the javelin vibrates in the tree above him.  Custer nocks an arrow, and eyes the Orc looking his way.  Custer's mind is a tranquil silence as he draws and looses another shot at one of the kobolds flanking the Orc.  Custer stares this shot down to its mark as he draws another arrow from his quiver.  

-----------------
Shortbow Ranged = 8+3=11 miss
-----------------

Custer frowns as he sees his shot miss and skip off the marble stone of the shrine.  He sticks the new arrow in his mouth and he reaches for the tree behind him.  Grabbing a hold of the trunk, Custer uses it as leverage as he launches from his kneeling position and spins around the tree into cover.

Custer leans his back against the tree as he removes the arrow from his mouth and nocks it.  He calls out in common, "Careful, Hale, lest you be fighting them alone!"

Custer looks back to the remaining group, wondering why the dragoon and dwarven priest suddenly seem to be battle shy.  If the blue human is a bag of farts, it wouldn't surprise me, but the dwarf?

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 8

--------------------------------

#2 'D6' : 1

[Forgeless Kilik]

Kilik catches his breath from the sprint to the campsite, thinking What I wouldn't give for some good, old fashioned skull-smashing in a tight little tunnel...

He eyes the overgrown shrine; is there still power here? [Religion check: *21*]

Calling upon the guiding light of Marthammor Duin, a bolt of searing light streaks towards the kobold tormenting the poor beast.

[Sacred Flame at Sok: DC 14 DEX save or 3 radiant damage, no benefit from cover]

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Forgeless Kilik' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 18

--------------------------------

#2 'D8' : 3

[AnnaMaul]

Anna snarls. This is either a great thing or a terrible thing, and knowing her luck its a whole lot more of the latter. In any case, its time to do what can be done. She watches as Shuul and the Kobolds run and she follows them, maintaining her grip on the kobolds ensnared in her vines.

SHUUL!

She shouts out in the harsh Orc language. The others are unlikely to know anything she says, but hopefully they know her voice well enough to give her a chance to find out just what is going on.

Shuul, it is Anna, daughter of Thar. What is going on here? What are you even doing here? I will have my She tries to think of the most fitting term. My sect call off our attack if you answer me! There is no need to kill a clansman if I don't need to. I might have left but you are still my people.

She doesn't bother to hide herself. His shield may display the wrong symbol, but as a raiding clan he could have taken it from a fallen enemy. Maybe anyway. In any case, she wanted to show that she herself had no ill-will towards him. For now anyway.

[Kellar]

Kellar assesses the movement of group, noting that, Cuss prefers an indirect confrontation with his enemies. He notices Shorjahl is quick to attack, it was almost surprising that he moved into action as fast as he did. Osvald moved right into the thick of things, foolish bastard.

Kellar, with Javelin in hand trudges alongside Shorjahl in getting close to the camp. I'm impressed at how quick you attack the enemy, I would learn from you after this is over, Kellar stated.

Seeing that there are a kobolds trapped in more brambles, he raises his javelin and throws it at the nearest one. The javelin hits its mark, d20=15, DMG= 4.

Kellar sees an orc hurling a javelin toward Cuss, that sticks into a tree near him. Kellar shouts, Little one, when you rejoin us, bring that javelin with you! Kellar than draws the lance from over his shoulder and prepares to move into melee distance against the remaining kobold caught in the brambles.

OOC- Kellar studied the movements of the party for his own reasons before jumping into the fray. He moved up and attacked one of the kobolds caught in the brambles.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Kellar' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 15

--------------------------------

#2 'D6' : 1

[Shorjahl]

Shorjahl sees his companions react quickly, surrounding and engaging with the brutish beasts without fear. He is somewhat surprised at Cuss' skill and accuracy with the arrow, as such a shot surely would have killed Shorjahl himself, unfortunately the Orc was made of hardier stuff than he.

He clenched his jaw and grit his teeth, still hunkered in the shadows of the small trees and tall reeds, not wishing to expose himself. He was new to combat, but knew he wouldn't be able to survive long in a true fracas, one dagger to the belly or javelin to the chest would certainly do him in- some powerful arcanist he'd be then.

As Anna called out to the orc, who might have been named Shuul based on how she addressed him, Shorjahl was not surprised. In fact, he was glad that they might be able to end this confrontation without any chance of his companions becoming injured, something Shorjahl was very reluctant to see happen. He lacked any skill in healing, and though the dwarf grew strength from the Divines, he knew not of his power other than to marshal the storms.

Shorjahl gathered the energy to unleash three more missiles toward the kobolds that escaped Anna's snares, but kept it harnessed and contained within the confines of his bracer and hand. It stung like ants gnawing through his veins, but he restrained himself nonetheless, quivering slightly from the effort. He would wait for Shuul's response, whether it be dialog or action. If surrender was not the answer, then Shorjahl would slip his grip upon the lethal energy.

-----------------

Holding action to see what Shuul says. I know that since we're sort of in a no-initiative thing, it might not work, and I might not get to act twice in the next rotation. If that's the case, that's okay, as this is what Shorjahl would do. If however, Shuul can speak or act or command the others to continue attacking even after Anna's attempted parley, ideally I'd like Shorjahl to be able to use his hold action. Just let me know Ao.

[Ao]

[[Yes, Hold Action works exactly the same way. You can take another turn, essentially]]

[Osvald Hale]

Arrows, javelins, and a flying stone cut the air around Osvalds head, he weaves his way through the camp, trying his best to stay alive for now.

Three kobolds break and make for the shrine, Between them and the Orc--wounded as he may be--Osvald doesn't like his odds against that many in tight quarters.  A javelin screams out of the reeds and plugs a kobold in the vines with a satisfying 'whump!' Closing distance fast and running out of choices, Osvald weighs his options, struggling to decide between death on an arrow point or sword edge...

"SHULL!"  The cry from behind him rings out loudly, Anna's words to the Orc reach his ears as a second stone narrowly misses his temple.

In exasperated orcish he cries out: "OH, YOU KNOW THIS FELLOW!? GREAT!"

Osvald figures this conflict won't end peacefully (an ambush just before supper is a terrible way to greet an old aqquantince) but it might be prudent if he lives long enough to at least hear this exchange before they all fall on eachothers knives. He drops to a knee and slides ~almost heroically~ into cover, rolling and laying prone behind the long log bench by the flame,  putting it between himself and the shrine. Then, noticing he is still totally exposed to the kobolds ensnared by the Druids vines, he crawls on hand and knee ~absolutely not heroically~ to the other log and quickly rolls over it, into--of course--a small puddle.

'Should've just gone and gotten bludgeoned to death like a man." He grumbles helplessly to no one in particular, making a solemn oath to never lead a charge again...

[Ao]

[Kilik] kobold 'sok' fails his save. Takes 3 damage.

[religion check results]: Kilik cannot sense any deliberate divine power flowing through the ruins, though it is clear that a deity once presided over these ruins, and it was once consecrated ground. Focusing harder, Kilik can sense that the shrine was once dedicated to the Forest Father, Silvanus. But knowing what he does of the patron of forests, the Brownlands are a far cry from his domain. Indeed, this shrine is from a different lifetime.

======================

The Kobold holding the pseudodragon is blasted into shreds by divine light seconds before it can reach the shrine. The tiny winged dragon falls to the ground ten feet from the structure, twitching upon the ground. It calls out meekly, seemingly for help.

The screams of Kobolds fill the air, as the entangled creatures still struggle against Anna's vines.

But a deep voice cuts through the scene, as the Orc appears in the archway of the shrine.

He yells something in Draconic.

-----------[Kellar] Kellar recognizes it as the draconic word for 'stop'.

And then he turns to Anna, holding his axe and shield tightly.

"Anna..."

The orc looks unsure for a moment, and then a smile crosses his face as he recognizes his old kinswoman.

"By the Gods... Anna! What in the mountains name are you doing in these disgusting swamps?" He says in orcish.

With a confident stride, he moves out from the shrine, slinging his armaments across his back.

The orc is young looking, with rough green skin. A scar stretches across his mouth, and his hair is long and unwashed. He stops for a moment, breaks Custer's arrow shaft off of his arm, and continues.

"What is this band of men that you lead? Bandits? Bounty hunters? You set upon us like fire from the sky. Ho! What slaughter I expected as our fate."

The Kobolds look terrified and unsure. One reaches for a Javelin beside Shuul, and the orc kicks it to the ground swiftly.

Shuul speaks in common now.

"This fight is through, we will lower our arms, should you do the same."

The orc barks another order in Draconian, and the Kobolds sheathe their weapons slowly, eyes looking nervously from the adventurers to the smoldering corpses of their former companions.

Shuul walks toward the fire, calling out to Anna again.

"Anna, hear me. Your father has passed. He is one with the earth, now. Grol, he is the new warchief. I know you had your differences, but he is an honorable leader. We are returning to the camp now, it is but an hour west of here. You, and your men, must come. Grol will wish to see you, and you must visit the grave of your father,"

=======================

Ok guys. Anna was once to be Grol's betrothed...but that kind of fell through. See her character development thread. Anyhow, the kobolds have sheathed their weapons and if you do not threaten them further, they show no signs of aggression.

Grol is walking towards the campfire, where osvald and kellar are. He is not holding his weapon or shield in his hands.

The pseudodragon has been forgotten about by the kobolds.

Exp: +20 to each of you, and another +20 for the slain kobolds. It would likely be bad form to loot their bodies right now, but if any of you want to let me know, and ill put a thread up in the chest. That is, unless you plan on murdering the rest of them right now. Ha.

[Kellar]

Kellar hears the orc call out, stop. Kellar lowers his lance from the kobolds that were caught in the brambles. He retrieves the javelin from the dead kobold after he locks the lance to his back again.

Next time.

Hmph, Kellar mutters as he tries to hide his disappointment.

He turns to Osvald, who was laying in a puddle, behind a log, you can get up, it looks like we're going to be talking this out. Kellar extends a hand to Osvald to help him to his feet. After Osvald is on his feet, he moves toward the creature that was left on the ground near the shrine.

Kellar chitters in draconic to the pseudodragon while picking it up, what has happened here? I heard your goings on a long ways from here. He offers part of a ration and water to the pseudodragon.

He then moves back to join his companions and stands back by Osvald and Anna.

----------------------------------
OOC- Kellar is naturally curious about the creature that was making all the noise and went to retrieve it. He's curious about what the orc has to say, and whether or not the kobolds say or attempt anything after he picks up the pseudodragon. Stealth roll was made for 14 if we're to move after talking with the orc.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Kellar' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 14

[Forgeless Kilik]

Kilik's eyebrows knitted together darkly as he glowered at the orc.

"'Must' come? Yer speak to us of 'must's?" he made no threatening movement, but his warhammer remained tight in his hand.

He looked to the others in turn, before settling upon Anna. "What say yer? This has an ill smell about it, and time is nae our friend in this. Had they set upon us unawares, I do not think we'd be hearin' this 'Oh please come to dinner, an' thank yer.'" He spat thickly on the ground. "I like it not."

[AnnaMaul]

Anna looks like she took a shot to the gut. Her father was dead. This was not something she was expecting to hear today. And Grol in charge? This is going from bad to worse. She hears Killik's thoughts and tries her hardest not to give him her strongest glare.

Killik please... I've just learned my father died. You can argue phrasing later if you'd like but for now a moment would be appreciated.

She turns to Shuul.

These people are not under my order's Shuul. We were hired to find something. We had reason to believe an Orc tribe nearby had the item we were looking for, but I didn't know it was Clan Maul in possession of the object. Let me talk to them about what we are going to do.

She turns to the party and steps off to the side. Once they all gather(or those who wish to gather do so) she talks.

Shuul, as you probably picked up by now, is from the clan I used to be a part of. This isn't anywhere near our lands, and I didn't expect to encounter them here. But this could be more of a blessing than a curse. My father was the leader of the clan. He was very well liked and very respected and everyone knows he taught me well. My word probably still has a bit of weight behind it and its possible we can get in and out with this horn and no bloodshed. But there is also one other... Complication...

[Ao]

[Anna, just to be clear there's no word of shuul or clan maul being in possession of the unicorn horn. The horn is, if the legend is to be believed, buried in the crypt of an old orc warchief. It's location is unknown. Shuul is asking you to return to pay respects to your father's grave]

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