Vethedar IC

[Quietus]

The smell of smoke and cooking meat fills your noses, sitting in a great circle around a great bonfire. Heat comes off of it in waves, forcing most of the people gathered to sit back a bit, while those better equipped to handle it take care of turning the large hunks of hadrosaur meat on spits. In the distance, the fire's flickering light just barely reaches the trader's wagons, which cast flickering shadows across the dark shapes of the town's wooden walls.

Around the fire, people are mostly gathered into three groups. On one side sits a number of men and women, many in clothing made of hide, all members of one of the nomadic tribes of the Central Plains. Marking the complete visual opposite are the traders who were here traveling through Lanestown, on their way to some other city to try and hock their wares. Their bodyguards are still wearing their armor, and though they keep them sheathed, remain armed. And then, there's the travelers - people such as yourselves, the smallest of the three groups. Aside from you five, there are a couple of mercenaries, possibly trying to get on with the traders passing through. There's also a minstrel, who had provided some entertainment earlier with a jaunty tune and dance.. you can see him now, sitting with the nomads, one woman leaning against him with her head on his shoulder.

After a short time, the meat is taken off the spits, and portioned out onto sharpened sticks to be passed around. Everyone gets a share, and there's even drink for everyone. The meat is surprisingly tender, and has a surprisingly strong taste to it, while the drink is a berry juice, almost a wine, that goes fairly well with the meat. The nomads dig into their meals with gusto, while the traders are a bit more cautious; none of them go for their own food, however, though in at least one case it's clearly out of tradition. As it was explained to each of you as you'd entered Lanestown, any time one of the nomadic tribes appeared here at the same time as a trade caravan, the two groups would get together and trade news of the places they'd been, to keep both groups up to date on what was happening in the world. That, however, would come after dinner; the nomads have apparently always insisted that bad news made for bad meals, and wouldn't speak their piece until after dinner was done.

[Cyrix]

A strange quiet man with antlers on his head sits just outside of the light of the camp fire. It's not that he was unfriendly, it's just that his interpersonal relationship skill have been shelfed for quite some time and he didn't want to offend. He graciously accepts his stick of meat, sniffs it a few times and takes a bite. He pauses for a moment and takes out a beat-up looking hunting knife and uses it to cut a large chunk of meat from the split. He tosses the chuck on the ground next to him. Within a few moments a large wolf materializes from the shadows and gobbles up the morsel then quietly disappears into the underbrush.

"I'm glad I'm not the only one who's nervous." He says to the brushes at his back. He finishes the rest of the meat while studying the caravan intently and trying to remember how to act like a proper human.

[Bulwer]

Reegrim sat cross-legged by the fire atop his traveling cloak, rolled up in a ball with his things inside. He kept out the bow and a handful of arrows-- dangerous times, after all-- but left his wooden holy symbol out atop his tunic. It was a human-scale symbol of Nemus, and while four inches is a fine size for a pendant on a man, on a two foot tall gnome it was a bit odd.

He hoped that the symbol would tell people that he was a simple cleric who merely wanted to help. He hoped that the bow would tell people that he was dangerous-- people who carried weapons seldom lived to one hundred and eighty-two. The old priest hadn't shot a bow in years (probably a factor in his longevity), but carrying the weapon of one of his heroes was comforting nonetheless.

[arguskos]

Cormac sits quietly, watching as the other cavort and dance merrily. He pulls out one of his many many journals, taking care to materialize it inside his cloak before removing it, lest the savages take offense to summoning a book from the shadows. Opening it, he runs his hand across, producing and shaping liquid night as his hand moves, recounting and recording all that he sees and hears, all written in a spidery script of Xilian. When offered the meat, he takes it with a quiet nod of thanks, eating without concern. Surely, these savages would not poison guests, and so there was nothing to fear. The wine was much more to his fancy, and he drinks his fill, all the while recording with one hand, as he often did.

A ray of light fell across him from the campfire, and he instinctively recoiled a touch, before remembering that these beings lived in the light of their volition, and so he restrained himself, barely flinching from it. The light played havoc upon his ash-grey skin and brilliant white hair, though little can be seen beneath his deep and heavy black cloak. Even his hands are gloved in leather so black is seems to absorb the light. Only his eyes, black as ink but oddly reflective, and his unadorned silver ring catch the light and show that a man exists inside the darkness. He speaks quietly at the other's outburst, thought unheard by the speaker, "Calm yourself. There is nothing to fear."

All the while, his left hand ever drifts across the page, never ceasing to write.

OOC:

Few notes (there's going to be a lot of these, as I flesh out Cormac further):
1. I figured that the omnipresent journals could be an odd side effect of Shadow Tome's, where for some reason, Cormac can conjure a never ending stream of lesser books to write in with liquid night, then banish them back to the shadows to be retrieved at a later date. This also ensures we always have writing material for later moments. No real mechanical effect, but great RP fun.
2. I am envisioning Cormac's liquid night as being a little different than the norm. Normally, the fundamental just creates the ink. I like the idea of Cormac being able to serve as an ever-flowing pen more. Again, not mechanical, but damn cool.
3. It's worth noting that I envisioned the Xilians as being functionally immune to alcohol, as an unknown side effect of the shadar-kai blood. Xil has no alcohol, having not brought it with them, so Cormac doesn't realize that what he's drinking is considered dangerous in copious amounts here, just thinking of it as a flavorful drink.

[Cyrix]

Neran looks upon the man that spoke to him. He watches the man scribble in his notebook without a pen. Neran is pretty sure writing required a pen or something when he was learning how to do so. He vaguely remembers his father talking about 'the good ol' days' and how things have changed. Maybe you no longer need something to write with? Or maybe it was some sort of magic like the sort he had learned a bit of.

He watches the strange dark figure take a swig out of a cup that is similar to the one given to him. He pick up his own cup and sniffs it. His nose is filled with the familiar olfactory gumbo of different berries along with something... else. He doesn't wish to be rude so he takes a drink of the stuff anyway. His lungs are filled with a strange heat that forces him to cough. He looks nervously at the man across from him. He thinks back to the basic rules of etiquette his mother taught him. "When in doubt make a joke."

"Nothing to fear but whatever's in this, you mean." He says with as brave as a chuckle as he can muster.

[Quietus]

The meal continues, and as people enjoy their drinks, it seems many there grow more comfortable, the traders in general becoming a bit more chatty, while there's a marked increase in the sheer volume coming from the nomads. The minstrel appears to be making some progress, whispering things into the ear of the woman who'd taken to him, who giggles in return. All in all, people seem to be having a good time.

Unfortunately, with loosened tongues comes bad ideas. Anyone who's paying attention to their dinner companions, or is simply observant, is able to pick up on one of the trader's bodyguards - one of the few that's actually been drinking, and one that doesn't look all that wise to begin with - sees him lean in toward one of his companions, and gesture toward Neran. With a chuckle, he asks his fellow bodyguard, "Antlers? Really? Who's he think he is? Not even these barbarians wear antlers, I mean come on!"

[arguskos]

Cormac, hearing the insult to the man's attire, raises his right hand, looks in the bodyguard's direction, and speaks a quiet word. "Learn manners. Savage though he may be, respect is still warranted." Through it all, he continues to write.

Action:

Standard: daze the bodyguard. DC 14 to resist.

[Cyrix]

Neran glances at the taunting men mainly uninterested. They were right he supposed he never knew anyone to wear antlers on their head. It was a trophy of his first kill and it was useful for hanging various ornaments that he had acquired over the years. Shiny stones, lumps of metal, teeth, and other animal parts. Besides all that it kept his head dry and safe from branches and maybe even provided him some safety from weapons.

While he ponders his reason behind the thing on his head he notices Kiam growling at the impudent body guards. Through his empathic bond with the animal he exudes a sense of calmness and tranquility. He also places his hand on the large wolf's head. Less a affirmation of a bond and more of a thinly veiled "I can tell this thing what to do, one word and it'll rip out your throat before you can blink." He does do so with a wide smile.

[Dexam]

Salamander sat with his back to the bonfire, using his battered backpack and bedroll as a cushion, the light from the flickering flames casting a burnished orange tint to the fine ruddy scales that covered the dragon-blood's exposed skin. Much like the other miscellaneous travellers gathered at the fire, he spoke little, other than exchanging meaningless pleasantries and the like, choosing instead to observe in silence. When the meal was offered, he accepted it politely and ate with the gusto of a person to whom hunger was no stranger and may be unsure of where the next hot meal will be coming from. A keen observer would note that the broad-shouldered dragon-blood drank sparingly, and ate only with one hand, the other concealed at all times beneath the stained travellers cloak he wore in spite of the heat emanating from the bonfire.

Hearing the exchange between the bodyguard and the strange bookish man, and glancing at the wolf alongside the the antlered man, Salamander rises slowly to his feet. His mail shirt softly clinks as he stretches, nochalantly adjusting the greatsword scabbarded across his back. He begins to whistle through his teeth what sounds like some kind of marching song.

[Quietus]

"Why you ruddy bookworm...", the bodyguard starts with, his shock and anger strong enough to overcome the Daze spell. Instinctively, he rises, a hand going to the sword hanging at his hip. The murmur of voices around the campfire dulls, and all eyes turn to the man, who shrinks back from the combined weight of those gazes and the show of force from the assembled wanderers. The man might be lacking in wisdom, but apparently is smart enough to know when a fight is lost. As his boss leans in and whispers harshly at him, you can tell by the scowl on his face that he's being chided for his behavior.

For a short period of time, the hush remains fallen over everyone assembled, broken only by the quiet sound of the hadrosaur herd's honking call, outside of the simple wooden walls. Deciding to use this lull, the nomad chieftain rises, and as he does so, draws all eyes to him. When he speaks, his deep voice sounds as old and leathery as his skin, but is loud enough that everyone assembled can hear him easily enough. "The herds have been impatient, constantly on the move. They refuse to settle, even for those they've come to know and trust, and everyone, beast and man alike, has been more irritable of late." His gaze seems to focus, for a moment, on the bodyguard - as if to prove his point. While he speaks, more food and drink is brought around for everyone by dour-faced members of his tribe, who have clearly already heard whatever it is he's about to say.

"This sort of thing has appeared many times in our stories and legends, and always as an omen of change. In ages past, when we first left Vaeles and struck out to these plains, we were a great tribe, a vast number of men and women, all looking for one thing - freedom, from those dragons who thought that we were playthings, to be ruled over. We attempted to settle here, to build a city of our own, free from the rule of dragons, and for many years, it was good. We came to know the land, and the beasts that roamed through it. We learned their ways, and in time, began to understand how they moved across the land. We had several years of good life in our great city, and as time went by, we began to notice changes in the herds. Where they would stop and graze for days previously, they now rarely stopped for more than a night, and eventually stopped coming at all. It wasn't long after this that the great dragon Vorsygax came to us."

"Vorsygax was young, for a dragon, but still large enough to pick up and carry off a grown horse. Our weapons did little to affect him, and he seemed to take this as a sign of his unquestionable rulership of our great city. We refused. When it was made clear that we would not submit again to any dragon, he went into a rage, and began destroying everything we'd built. It was because of this that we came to understand - to be free, we would never be able to build a city. We would be free like the animals, and our great city broke up into the many tribes we have today, roaming these plains and living with the herds."

"This is just one of several times such things have happened. Each time there is a great change in the world, the herds feel it first, and through their restlessness, they tell us. Such a time is upon us again. I do not know if this is to be a good omen or bad, but one thing is certain - change is coming, whether we like it or not. If we are lucky, it will be good, as it was when Lord Longspear rallied the forces of man and brought about the fall of Maulisauna. If we are not.. we have been warned. A time of change is upon us, and how we respond to it will prove our worth as men and women."

[Cyrix]

Neran listens intently to the man. He wish he could commune with the herd animals to see what they sense but his predatory nature puts off most animals. The Great White Wolf tried to teach him how to communicate with various animals. He understood the rudiments and his bond with nature helped him out but he never really took to it. He had a lot of raw knowledge relating to wildlife, their habits and so forth, but most of it pertained to killing them effectively. He looks down to Kiam. "Even the simplest of animals seem to have a Wisdom far beyond that of more intelligent creatures."

[arguskos]

Cormac shakes his head. Thought he recorded the chieftan's speech, he had hoped for something of consequence, not an anecdotal tale and a possible warning about something that maybe sorta kinda might be happening that no one knows any details of. Truly, these people were savages.

Hearing Neran speak to his wolf, Cormac turns to face him for the first time. "No, animals do not have wisdom. They merely speak more truthfully, a rare quality. What is your name, wildman?"

[Cyrix]

Neran wanted to explain to the man that their Wisdom is in their simplicity. All they have to worry about in life is sex and food. What does this man have to worry about? His clothes, his books, property, weather or not someone will stab him for the gold in his purse; these are all worries of man and many more cross his mind. These complications drown the senses in static which blinds them to what the world wishes to show us. Even with his training he still can not always see clearly. But one day he would, and one day everyone else might as well.

He wanted to say all this to the man but instead he said "Neran."

[arguskos]

"Just 'Neran'? Have you no beginning, no end? You are without origin or destination. This land...." Cormac trails off briefly, lost in thought, but quickly remembers he was speaking to someone. "I am Cormac ko Jithes, of a distant land." He nods his head respectfully at the large druid.

[Hefty Lefty]

As the fire roars, the man on a stump scans the crowds with a tense eye. His dark green robe matches the hue of the trees at night. Glancing around the group, he eyes each person and makes his best estimate of their skills. For the most part, he's not impressed. A small breeze blows the smoke into his eyes and the man is swept back to a painful memory.

"Iladros, you traitor, you swine!"
"Go to the fiery pit you belong in!"
The heat is unbearable. The sweat rushing down his forehead boils in the fire.
"Let me go, please, I did nothing!"
"Eye for eye, murder! Die!"

He bats his eyes but the smoke remains pressed upon his face. Go away, he thinks, Please, go away. Iladros quietly coughs. He'd rather not make a scene. He has always favored living outside of the spotlight, and especially in a group of strangers like this. Again he hacks, this time louder. Still batting his eyes, he notices a short trader look in his direction. Iladros throws up his hood and, finally, the smoke blows away from his face. Thank you.

The trader looks away rather instantly, as a tall, broad-shouldered man in across the fire starts to antagonize another dinner guest. Iladros' eyes dart around the circle. He quickly identifies each armed person, sizes up their skill and aggressiveness, and, worst-case scenario, all possible exits into the trees. The possible fight, however, smolders out as quickly as it began.

Throughout the chieftain's speech the cloaked man takes his first bite of meat. Concentrating on the story, he rips a bite of meat right off the skewer. A bit of his food is caught on the light facial hair he's been growing on his chin. He knows he really should shave, he looks rather nonprofessional, but he hasn't had much reason to lately. Normally he'd have the sense to mind his manner amidst his men, but he's been travelling for so long by himself, he forgets to look his part.

Near the end of the tale, Iladros resumes evaluating the members of the dinner. His eye is drawn to the antlered man who, before, had been the victim in a bit of irrational hate. He rises from his stump. Leaving his meat behind but carrying his cup in his left hand, he makes his way across the fireside to the man, who has now apparently been joined by someone else. It appears they, too, are first meeting.

"I've been studying this drink all night. It's not poison, but it's close." Iladros says with a smile. Occasionally his acute senses startle others, as his new friend made this comment a long while ago, before the scuffle and the story. He may have forgotten he said it himself. "I'm Iladros Trattino, of many places as well. Most recently Fograd." His arm is extended towards Cormac ko Jithes. "What brings you both here, tonight?"

[arguskos]

Cormac looks at Iladros. "Then do not drink it, Iladros. What path leads you here?" He hefts his cup again, draining it swiftly, all the while ignoring the outstretched hand and continuing to write with his left. "We appear to have two more travelers."

[Hefty Lefty]

Iladros' eyebrows furrow. I guess he didn't get the joke. He rubs his hands together and blows on them. It's a bit colder this distance from the fire. "Why am I here? A business deal of mine... went array." His eyes trail off. "I lost touch with a few of my men. We made a good amount of money along the trade routes, but when you travel with such a tight group, people are bound to rub each other the wrong way. Especially with gold on the line." Iladros' hand makes his way to his pocket. A quick check in his coin purse. Empty. His eyes come back from staring at the treetops. He's not surprised that the note-taker isn't paying him much attention. Iladros hasn't spoken to people in quite a few days. Perhaps he just misses the sound of his own voice. "Either way, I'm here to regain my footing. Maybe set out again."

[Cyrix]

The man with antlers looks down into his drink and looks back up to the new comer. "I am Neran and I am here because I was sent here. More specifically sent towards the west. There is something happening here in there plains and I was sent to be what help I could."

When no one is looking, at least none of the caravan, he tosses the berry booze over his shoulder and fills the cup with water.
(Using create water)

[Quietus]

All in all, the trader's reaction to the nomad's news is much similar to Cormac's.. minus the constant writing, of course. There's no ripple of shocked murmuring as the chieftain sits back down, no small clusters of people turning to one another to discuss these great revelations. Despite the chieftain's certainty that his news carries great import, the traders seem to feel that dinosaurs changing their migratory habits isn't all that interesting.

After a few moments go by, one of the traders stands, as if to break the awkward moment. At a guess, you might assume him to be one of the wealthier individuals present, as even his bodyguards wear well-made tabards bearing his heraldry. As he doesn't need to wait for people to stop speaking, he simply gives a moment for his presence to be acknowledged, before breaking into his half of the news-sharing. "Towns along the trade routes from Vaeles to here have been attacked. At least one has been all but sacked, another has apparently become militant and declared itself independent. Walls have been erected, the area around declared unsafe, and they charge obscene amounts of money simply to enter. They claim increased banditry in the area, but I'm not so certain. Descriptions of some of the bandits encountered matched suspiciously closely to some of the 'guards' we encountered coming through."

That, at least, gets more of a reaction from the gathered individuals - the surprised reactions from the nomads seem more for the sacked village than the one that is gouging the trade caravans. Concern for the people of the village ripples through them, while your conversations are more or less kept private.

[Bulwer]

Reegrim ponders, sipping quietly from the wooden cup. No gnomes here to make berry wine, but one makes do when on a quest. Had Rictictok ever turned down a meal on the road? Never. And he voyaged when he was a young man. Reegrim didn't have the usual luxury of vegetarianism, either, not for months.

Omens of change here too, not just in Pellpen. The chieftain spoke of revolutions, cities lost and won. Could these plains be where Nemus wanted him to plant the temple oak?

He must be like the questing man whose story he'd told so often to his people. He must walk in the direction he felt drawn to, and do the work of the gods as he went. These tribesman felt a great change coming on, and he should be there for it.

The white-haired gnome gets to his feet with a series of popping noises and a grunt. He slings his bow across his back and picks up his bundled-up cloak, walking over to the center of conversation in time to hear the antlered man explain that he had been sent here.

He puts down his things and goes to speak, but is interrupted by the news of the bandits and taxes. He waits, then says to Neran, "Sent? Are you a man of the gods? I am Reegrim of Pellpen, a priest of Nemus."

[arguskos]

Cormac nods to the elder gnome in greeting, as friendly as he gets. "Banditry. A scourge. It should be cleansed, that we may have safe travel. What say you three?"

[Bulwer]

Reegrim's not a man of violence, not for more than a hundred years. None of these humans were alive the last time he shot a bow. Still, something about this circumstance calls to him. Wanderers together around the fire, omens of a great change, and bandits stalking the roads. Village priests seldom see such adventure. Reegim mouthed a silent prayer to Fatima, and spoke.

"I'll stand with you. I'm a capable healer, and I'm equipped for a fight."

He put as much confidence in his voice as he could muster. Two-foot-tall gnomes with old skills and older bows didn't belong in the thick of battle. What had he been thinking?

[Dexam]

Salamder smirks quietly to himself as hears the nomad chieftain's tale of Vorsygax the dragon, examing the small talons that now spout from the ends of his fingers, where ordinary human finger-nails once grew. He tries to suppress a snort, and shakes his head in soft derision when he hears of tribeman trying to attribute some sort of significance to the herd beasts' strange behaviour. The animals get spooked all the damn time, and nobody thinks anything of it; but if something interesting happens after they spooked, all of a sudden it's "The herds are all-wise, all-knowing, and ominous!" Salamander shrugged and snorted again. Bah! Change is coming, good or bad? I'd be more shocked if the dumb animals could tell us that everything was going to stay unchanged.

The tall, lean dragon-blood takes a long sip of drink. The news from the trader is much, much more interesting. He listens intently, pondering. Sounds like some work might be coming my way... He unconsciously fingers the hilt of the dagger conceal beneath his cloak, tapping a talon on the pommel.

Seeing the news from the trader ripple through the gathered people, Salamander suddenly finds himself bored of his own company. He scans the people gathered in groups, looking for something of interest. The sight of the bard flirting with one of the tribeswomen catches his gaze, and he considers trying his own luck in that regard but quickly dimisses the notion. Maybe later; it's too soon to get run out of town if anything like last time happens again.

The eccelectic gathering of travellers nearby seems to be the safest bet. An unusual grouping... the wildman with the wolf; an oddly skinned, oddly attired foreigner; a small, wizened gnome; and perhaps standing because of his apparent normality, a bowman roughly the same age as himself. Salamander nods. Yes, definitely interesting.

Snagging a jug of the berry wine from a passing nomad, Salamander strides confidently up to the group. "Interesting news that, hey? he states, pouring a small measure of wine into his wooden cup. "About the attacks on the towns and all that - sounds to me like someone has got it into their heads that they don't want to be a little fish in a big pond any more. Wine?" he offers the jug, pouring for any who accept. "Look closely into some of those bandits, and I'll bet my next meal that they're being sponsored by the town erecting the walls." The reddish-scaled dragon blood takes a swallow of his drink. "Stupid move, though, charging for entry. Scares away trade, and they'll need all the trade they can get if they want to expand. They probably think they can just seize anything they need." He shakes his head, causing his mailshirt to jingle softly. "Stupid... name's Salamander, by the by."

[Cyrix]

Naren watches the small gnome walk over to them. He had heard of Gnomes but had never seen them. As a child he was told that they were magically little creatures. He also remembered something about them and gardens but this one didn't look like the gardening type. As Reegrim poses a question to him he doesn't answer him right away. Instead he looks the Gnome up and down for a bit. "Nemus... that's some sort of tree isn't it?" he thinks to himself. He finally speaks "Er, The Gods? NOt particularly, no. I am Neran By the way.

Neran nods to Cormac. He had been sent "to the west" to "do some good" with an order as vague as that there is no telling exactly what was to be done. The only option Neran could think of was to do everything he could and hope he did the thing he was sent for along the way.

As the 5th person walks up to him he wonders how many more people he's going to have to introduce himself to today. He considers investing in remembering how to write and making himself a name tag. All this social business is starting to wear on him. In these last few minutes he done more talking and thinking then in the last several years. He raises his hand up at the offer of more of the rotten berry slosh and shakes his head politely. He's not sure why people would want to drink rotten berry juice. A half hour in the forest behind him and he'd have enough berry and fruit to feed a good number of people. He listens to the man talk about the bandits. In the wilds you took what you were strong enough to take. He knew it didn't work that way in civilized places. He knew things were more complicated and in a sense less serious. The only things to take in the wilds are food and shelter which could mean your death during fall or winter. In these lands it seems people are willing to kill each other over shiny metals and fine clothes.

"I am Neran." He said for hopefully the final time. Salamander was a strange name. He could swear that was the name of those wiggly things that live under rocks in brooks and such. Not very good eating, at least not for a human's tongue. This man looked slightly more appetizing then a salamander but definitely not wiggly.

A very large wolf begins sniffing Reegrim. The wolf is large enough to rest it's jaw on the top of the gnomes head. "Oh yes, I almost forgot, that is Kian. Don't worry he doesn't want to eat you. He's just interested in you for some reason."

[Hefty Lefty]

The bowman listens intently to information about trailside raiders. It seems this may be a bit of a saturated market, he thinks. But suddenly, his eyes widen and his thoughts go to paranoia. No, did they follow me here? There's no way they could have known I was alive. Unless Tenido cracked... but why would they even question him? Sh*t, what if they came back to the burned tree? A chill runs down Iladros' spine. How could I be so careless? Ok, ok, what could I have done instead? Posed as a burned corpse? I guess there's nothing I could have done... but still. They're out there. Through his worrying, Iladros barely notices the newcomers. He does manage to hear the old gnome mention his deity Nemus. "In times of branching out, it's good to look to the tree." Iladros shakes off his anxiety with a light joke. A smile stems across his face. "It's good to meet another follower of Nemus. Hi, I'm Iladros." He reaches out his hand down to the diminutive priest. "As for the walls... I politely disagree. Bandit gangs are a very independent bunch. They fear the government far too much to work in collusion. But indeed, we'd be best taking caution against the bandits." Iladros swallows a long gulp of his berry cocktail.

[arguskos]

Cormac shakes his head at Iladros' noncommittal. "Cowards take caution. The brave cleanse." Cormac continues to write, having yet to stand or even really move from his seat as the conversation centers around his location. He thinks to himself as the others speak and pour more wine. These savages, truly, I wonder how they ever became semi-civilized. They speak of peace, honor, and banditry. Fools.

[Hefty Lefty]

"So you're suggesting we, what, kill them all?" Iladros coughs again as the smoke once again is blown in his direction. Actually, that's not such a bad idea. I came here looking for a new party of thieves, but I suppose those who prey upon thieves works just as well. But is that morally good? His eyes squint in thought. It can't possibly be worse than thieving. I'm in.

[arguskos]

Cormac looks at Iladros with a blank stare, as though seeing something else. He holds up his right hand, and in that hand, a ghostly blade, a dagger made from shadow and force itself, seems to materialize from thin air. He looks at Iladros again, twirling the dagger in his hand as he speaks. "Those who prey on the weak deserve to be preyed upon by the strong." Cormac grasps the dagger tightly, and then sinks it deep into the stump upon which he sits, releasing it as he does, causing the blade to evaporate like smoke upon a strong wind. Only the hole remains. The Xilian looks at Iladros, the message clear. Cormac has strength. Does Iladros?

[Cyrix]

"For one who likes to describe other as savage you sure have a violent bend to you. If you are saying that you are stronger then those who prey on they weak and wish to prey on them. Doesn't that mean you, too, are prey on the weak? You civilized folk seem to apply your rules only on others." Neran chuckles, something he hadn't done in a while. "Not that I have a particular problem with what you are suggesting I just think that the way you suggest it is amusing."

[Hefty Lefty]

Almost instantly, Iladros reaches down to the dagger sheathed on his left calf. He swiftly digs it into the stump with force and vigor. He remembers back to the last time he used that dagger, to free himself from his traitorous old party. Perhaps this is a change of ways for the man. The determination of the mysterious Cormac brings Iladros to realize that perhaps not all victims of thieves will be so easily defeated, as his victims were. Perhaps it was a blessing that Iladros left his bandit gang - one way or another - before a group of anti-thief vigilantes like this came after them. "It would be foolish to assume thieves as weak, Neran. They truly deserve persecution." Iladros can't help but smile as he envisions his revenge.

[arguskos]

Cormac laughs, a dry and hollow sound, the sound of bones in a coffin rattling about. "Neran, you presume much. You presume I enjoy violence, that savage is a pejorative, and that I consider what I do preying. No, I do not savor violence. No, to be savage is not to be derided. No, I do not think of myself as a predator. Merely an equalizer. Savage, civilized, what is the difference? Only strength, and the will to use it, matters." He realizes that the wine has loosened his tongue somewhat, but reasons that it doesn't matter. These men are likely to become his means to an end, and for that, they will serve.

OOC:

I must say, this so far, quite entertaining. However, we'll need to back up our dark words with darker action sooner than later. :smallamused:

Cue the wild bear attack! :smalltongue:

[Bulwer]

Reegrim's head rang with thoughts. He'd always been content to serve Nemus as the cycle of life spun slowly around one isolated town. Now, he was wandering among madmen with magic knives, and riding out as a volunteer to fight bandits.

Still, there were good men among these tall folk. Iladros, the bowman, followed Nemus as well, though that was no guarantee of good intentions. Some people slaughtered children and appealed to Morta as though she could make their monstrosity natural.

The antlered man and his wolf, though, they were interesting. The man smelled of the forest, and his wolf no doubt thought the same of Reegrim himself. He proffered a fist for the animal to sniff, and remarked quietly in the language of beasts, "Hello, Kian. I am Reegrim, from the northern forests. Friend?" Simple words were all beasts had, but maybe a wolf that followed a man was different.

The tall folk were all talking of bandits and violence, and they had some shared grievance against a stump. A gnome would have to climb on top of it to thrust a dagger in, and Reegrim had no confidence in his strength being enough to dent a tree. Silence was wise, as was standing well back from any drunken tall folk with knives.

[Quietus]

After a bit of time to talk amongst yourselves, you notice one of the men from the traders' group listening in, edging closer and closer. Once he draws your attention, he speaks up, quietly at first, then picking up both in volume and speed.

"Hey.. you.. you're talking about stopping those bandits? Really? You think you can do it? You know, I bet if you could figure out how to chase them off and ran the new town yourself somehow you could make lots of money if you didn't make the traders go broke to come through..." The longer he talks, the more his nerves show, and by the time he has to stop talking to breathe, he's panting heavily. Clearly, the current state of things has him rather worried, probably because he isn't as well-off as the men he travels with. He looks more like a porter than a trader, paid meagerly to do the heavy lifting, with the physique that comes with that. Odds are, the current situation probably has his job in jeopardy.

Around you, the people gathered are mingling, the 'tradition' of the two groups being separated before the sharing of news apparently over. In one or two cases, it looks as though there are some people present that are seeing friends for the first time in a while, nomads and traders clapping one another on the back. Elsewhere, it appears as though deals are being hashed out; trades of armor for weapons, it seems. It occurs to you that blades must be difficult to create, as a group of nomads. All the while, the fire that had been built for cooking continues to roar, spreading its warmth through each of you, and sending sprawling shadows into the night.

OOC :
Cyrix - just so you're aware, Reegrim (Bulwer's character) has a language that allows basic communication between himself and "forest animals", of which I assume your wolf to be one, given your backstory. I'm assuming you'd rather run your wolf, just keep in mind that A) the language is a very basic one, so only the simplest concepts can be conveyed, and B) A wolf animal companion is still a wolf, with all the limitations that come with an intelligence of 2. :smalltongue:

[Cyrix]

(How the hell do I NOT have that language :smallannoyed:. Stupid druidness... is it something I can buy with the speak language skill?)

"You smell like home. Home is to the west." Kian says plainly with his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Kian goes around sniffing near each other new comer each after the other. He can sense that Kian intends on traveling with these people so he gets to know them in his own way.

"I'm not one to rule over a town and I somehow doubt that was what was intended for me coming out this way." Neran walks over to the stump and unsheathes an ornate looking wooden sword. Somehow the wood has been sharpened to a reflective edge. Neran puts this edge into the tree stump next to the other dagger.

"I might as well help, perhaps I could make some of this money you civilized folk think so highly of. I'll need it if I am to continue to interact with more astute peoples." Neran gives a sly smile to Cormac.

Kian wanders up to the stump and wonders why it is so interesting to all the two legged people. He gives it an exploratory sniff and paws at the dirt at the base of it. He gives up moments later disinterested and lays down over by where Neran was sitting.

[Dexam]

Salamander deftly steers the jug away from Neran when he declines the drink. "Neran... and Kian". He nods respectfully at the man and the wolf.


"As for the walls... I politely disagree. Bandit gangs are a very independent bunch. They fear the government far too much to work in collusion. But indeed, we'd be best taking caution against the bandits." Iladros swallows a long gulp of his berry cocktail.

Salamander shrugs at this comment. "You might be right - sometimes bandits are just bandits. But to me, this has the stench of politics and money about it. Won't be the first time some official or merchant has payed off some bandits, or hired some mercs to act like bandits, then used them to eliminate the competion. I've seen it happen before," he comments, neglecting to mention which side he saw it from. "Then they start hiking up taxes to pay for improving the militia and hiring mercs to deal with the 'bandit problem'... before long they're annexing nearby smaller towns 'for their own protection'."

Ahhh, memories.



Cormac looks at Iladros with a blank stare, as though seeing something else. He holds up his right hand, and in that hand, a ghostly blade, a dagger made from shadow and force itself, seems to materialize from thin air.

"Hey, neat trick! I'll bet you're a barrel full of fun at parties, too."


Almost instantly, Iladros reaches down to the dagger sheathed on his left calf. He swiftly digs it into the stump with force and vigor.

Salamander blinks at this, then groans inwardly. What next... are these two going to arm-wrestle? A pissing contest, perhaps? Clearly these two had something bothering them, and needed to left off some steam. Still, it might be entertaining if a decent fight breaks out...


After a bit of time to talk amongst yourselves, you notice one of the men from the traders' group listening in, edging closer and closer. Once he draws your attention, he speaks up, quietly at first, then picking up both in volume and speed.

"Hey.. you.. you're talking about stopping those bandits? Really? You think you can do it? You know, I bet if you could figure out how to chase them off and ran the new town yourself somehow you could make lots of money if you didn't make the traders go broke to come through..." The longer he talks, the more his nerves show, and by the time he has to stop talking to breathe, he's panting heavily. Clearly, the current state of things has him rather worried, probably because he isn't as well-off as the men he travels with. He looks more like a porter than a trader, paid meagerly to do the heavy lifting, with the physique that comes with that. Odds are, the current situation probably has his job in jeopardy.

Salamander looks the porter up and down, and shrugs at his questions. "I ain't talking about stopping the bandits - not unless they cause me trouble, or someone pays me enough to stop them... your boss hiring?" He asks, raising a scaled eyebrow. "And who'd want to run some fly-speck town, anyway? More trouble than it's worth." He shakes his head.

[arguskos]

Cormac listens to the porter, and to the new arrival to the circle, with indifference. Neither is of interest to him, since he knows what he wants. He returns his tome to whence it came, then stands with a flowing motion, walking towards the elder trader that delivered the news concerning the banditry. "Trader, where are these 'bandits' you spoke of?"

[Dexam]

"Really polite company you keep," Salamander comments sarcastically to the others, watching the strange foreigner walk away, apparently ignoring them all to talk to the senior trader. "He a friend of yours?" he asks, turning to Iladros, Neran, and the elderly gnome.

[Hefty Lefty]

This may be the clue Iladros was looking for. This messenger must know the routes well, he'll know if anyone has heard of Scevola. Steam must be escaping his ears; that name alone causes such rage. He follows Cormac towards the speaker, completely ignoring the man he had been discussing the bandits with before. Talk is talk. This is much more interesting. Iladros approaches the new conversation as Cormac does. "Yes," Iladros begins, "and what are their names?"

[Quietus]

"But... what?" The porter seems remarkably confused, probably having gotten his hopes up at the thought of his job being a little more secure. It's easy to see how that could lead him to draw the wrong conclusion. He looks on in confusion as two of your number get up and walk toward the main group of traders, before turning back to the rest of you. "I thought you were talking about preying on the weak, and justice, and.. what did you mean by all that?"


As Cormac and Iladros approach the older trader, you can see that he's engaged in some dealings with one of the nomads, a woman who's showing a number of swatches of leather pinned to a wooden backing. As you approach, you hear her explain, ".. And they will work on any hide, so long as it's done before treating it against water. A good leatherworker could even use it to paint your crest directly onto the armor, then seal it, and it will last years before fading." When addressed, he holds up one finger toward you, and finishes his dealings with the woman first. "I'm certainly very interested, my lady. I'll need to find out how much I can afford, and of what colors, but I will definitely be in touch. If you'd like, my assistant here can show you what I have available for trade." A much younger man, dressed in the trader's colors, leads the woman toward his master's wagons, and the trader himself turns to the two of you.

"My apologies, but the nomads are only here as long as their herds are, and their news suggests that they may not have as long as they usually do. The bandits.. there tends to be a few here and there, but the towns I referred to are Crickstock and Ashcombe, along the north-south route that follows the Volaes. I assume you're familiar with the area?" If you indicate that you aren't, he gives you a general lay of the land in that area. "Ashcombe is the city that's been fortified, and Crickstock was mostly burned to the ground. So far, Pethervale seems to have managed to avoid any issues, the distance must be keeping them safe. Crossing, of course, has been left alone - they'd have a harder time getting across the Volaes without it. As to names, I'm sorry, but I didn't exactly make an effort to find the bandits so I could get to know them better. Credit where credit is due, the men guarding Ashcombe chased off the bandits that attacked one of my groups quite quickly. Still, the similarities in the descriptions I heard between the bandits and one of the guards.. it leaves me with questions I'm not sure would be prudent to ask. Scevola, I think, was the guard's name?", he says, his eyes growing distant as he tries to remember.

So, to get a better lay of the land :
http://img641.imageshack.us/img641/7069/vethedartest.jpg

Slightly updated, has a few of the trade cities on it, as well as labels. You're in Lanestown now, which is at the edge of the Central Plains. General world information that anyone used to traveling the roads would know : Crossing is a small city that serves to ship goods across the Volaes, and stretches to either side of it. North of Crossing is the Veil, a lowlands that's constantly filled with mist. The rest of the named villages along the trade routes tend to be agricultural towns, growing their own food and trading amongst each other, with occasional trips to Vaeles to sell anything they can spare. All the towns between Vaeles and Crossing are considered part of Vaeles' territory.

[Hefty Lefty]

The bowman's eyes widen and eyebrows sharpen downward in rage. He exhales heavily. Truly all he can see is red. "Scevola is in Ashcombe, you tell me?" His voice is hot and bitter. That treacherous monster. That dirty, vile scum. I must go to Ashcombe. "Salamander!" Iladros whips his head around towards the group he left behind. "You were right - about the corrupt guards! Come here! Cormac - you truly believe in delivering justice to those that deserve it? Join me in my journey to Ashcombe. I promise you, I will take swift action to take down this corruption and vile fiend!"

[arguskos]

Iladros' fire and fury is surprising to the Xilian mage. Curious. This is worthy of examination. "Very well." He nods to Iladros. "Thank you, master trader."

[Quietus]

"Nolan, please." The trader gives you a flash of a practiced salesman's smile. "I am curious, however, what makes you think you're capable of taking down a group of well-armed men in a fortified position, with your group of.. what, a half dozen individuals? They certainly have more guards than that, and the advantage of the walls.. though I suppose if you paid to enter the city, that would be less of a concern. But are you equipped for such a task, I wonder? If you need anything for your attempt, I invite you to visit my wagons come the morning. I have the best selection of anyone in this town, I guarantee it"

[Hefty Lefty]

Cooling down a bit from his rage, Iladros calms himself before answering the trader. "Well I don't have a plan as of yet," Iladros begins, his eyes focusing on the fire behind the salesman, "but it's a long trip to Ashcombe and I can think of one on the way. It shouldn't be too hard once we enter the city; I can't imagine the toll is too staggering if they still expect people to enter." I can't tell them outright I'm just going to kill the bloody traitor. "Worst comes to worst I'll pay for anyone who comes with me to enter the city." Iladros turns to Cormac with a confident look. "As for the half-dozen individuals... I'm afraid there's one less than that and I have hardly met them. I'd have to conference, but if they all have brave souls they'll join me." Iladros reaches out his hand to shake the trader's. "Thank you, sir Nolan. You've made this day more meaningful than you know." He then reaches his hands down in to the pockets of his cloak. "And I will gladly take a look at your wagon at dawn. I hadn't planned on making a trip so early, but given the circumstances, there's no time to waste."

[Bulwer]

"I'll travel with you to the east. I can't promise to join you in your violence, but Nemus has given me enough magic to see us through in one piece." He hoped.

[Cyrix]

"If their walls are made of wood I believe I have to power to get us in if need be." Neran says to the others. "I have other, more subversive ways or sneaking into the town as well." Neran will not pass up an opportunity to show people the potential power that nature has.

[Quietus]

"Glad to be of service. Tips are always welcome.", the aged trader jokes. "As to their charge, it's five gold a head - not a great deal to wandering risk-takers, perhaps, as there seems to be good money in risking your neck looking for trouble. But to someone such as myself, or my fellows, five gold is a significant cut into our profits - the profits we use to feed and clothe ourselves and our families. The men in charge of the entry fee claimed it was temporary, but I'm not known to be particularly gullible. He'd have taken us for more if he thought he could get away with it."

[Dexam]

Salamander shrugs at the puzzlement of the porter. "Weren't me talking about justice and preying and what-not. You'll have to ask them."


"Salamander!" Iladros whips his head around towards the group he left behind. "You were right - about the corrupt guards! Come here! Cormac - you truly believe in delivering justice to those that deserve it? Join me in my journey to Ashcombe. I promise you, I will take swift action to take down this corruption and vile fiend!"

The dragon-blood's head whips around as his name is called. I wonder what's got him so worked up all of sudden?

He swaggers over to the others, a sneer on his face and a glint in his eye. "Justa coupla minutes ago you were sure it was only bandits," he says to Iladros. "What'd he say to make to make you change your tune?" Salamander enquires, nodding in the direction of Nolan.


"I am curious, however, what makes you think you're capable of taking down a group of well-armed men in a fortified position, with your group of.. what, a half dozen individuals? They certainly have more guards than that, and the advantage of the walls.. though I suppose if you paid to enter the city, that would be less of a concern. But are you equipped for such a task, I wonder? If you need anything for your attempt, I invite you to visit my wagons come the morning. I have the best selection of anyone in this town, I guarantee it"

"Firstly, *I* ain't promised or volunteered to take down anyone... yet." He glares at Iladros. "Secondly, just one man - or woman - can bring down an entire city... they just gotta know where to push." He grins nastily.


"Glad to be of service. Tips are always welcome.", the aged trader jokes. "As to their charge, it's five gold a head - not a great deal to wandering risk-takers, perhaps, as there seems to be good money in risking your neck looking for trouble. But to someone such as myself, or my fellows, five gold is a significant cut into our profits - the profits we use to feed and clothe ourselves and our families. The men in charge of the entry fee claimed it was temporary, but I'm not known to be particularly gullible. He'd have taken us for more if he thought he could get away with it."

Salamander nods, and scratches thoughtfully at his reddish-scaled chin with a black claw-tip. "Could just be a scam run by the guards - either you cough up the coin, which turns a nice little profit for them; or you refuse to pay and you spend the nights outside where you'll get attacked by the 'bandits' and potentially lose the lot. Classic protection racket." He sniffs, and adjusts the sword scabbarded on his back. "'Course, it could go higher than that... in which case the next step'll be passing some local laws about contraband goods or import taxes or protecting the livelihoods of local merchants. Of course, that's all a load of dino droppings - just an excuse to seize the goods and not give them back. If they've really gone independant, then it's pretty likely it goes higher than just greedy guards."

[arguskos]

Cormac, seeing that the situation seems to be settled, walks back to his seat and conjures the journal again. He begins a new entry, in the same coded variant of Xilian, this one titled "On the Close Observation of the Scaled People". It is not flattering.

Cormac's face betrays nothing, having remained a solid neutral expression the entire night.

[Bulwer]

Reegrim looks up at the tall one with claws. "Tall fo-- that is, people-- set taxes all the time. If their town is a sanctuary against banditry, why is it business of our what they charge?"

[Hefty Lefty]

Iladros itches the back of his neck as his head pivots to look around at his group. People seem to be pretty eager to come with me. This is great. Iladros is optimistic as he cautiously approaches Salamander with his offer. "Nolan has informed me the name of one of the city's guards," Iladros begins to walk slowly around the group, "and I know for certain he is not a stranger to corruption and is certainly a dirty, money-hungry, son of a b*tch." His voice rises as he becomes more angry. At the end of his sentence, he exhales quietly and regains his composure. Can't let myself get carried away. "If you don't want to come with me then I will not question it. I have four ready men with me," he reaches out his hand to the group in statement, most closely, the old gnome, "but you seem to have a very intimate knowledge of the situation. Through whatever means you know of the stratagems of city guard thieves I will not question, but regardless, I'm sure your experience will be called upon." His eyes, which had been wandering around the fireside environment, now shoot up to match Salamander's glare. "So now I ask you - are you with us?"

[Dexam]

Reegrim looks up at the tall one with claws. "Tall fo-- that is, people-- set taxes all the time. If their town is a sanctuary against banditry, why is it business of our what they charge?"

Salamander looks down at the small gnome. "That's my point - if it's legit, it's none of our damn business what they do or how much they charge. If they're genuinely using the extra coin to fight the bandit problem, that's just fine and dandy - more power to 'em. However," The dragon-blood raises a finger. "If they're creating the bandit problem and then using the extra money to line their own pockets, they're just robbers with badges instead of swords. 'S called taxing without representing... or something like that."


Iladros itches the back of his neck as his head pivots to look around at his group. People seem to be pretty eager to come with me. This is great. Iladros is optimistic as he cautiously approaches Salamander with his offer. "Nolan has informed me the name of one of the city's guards," Iladros begins to walk slowly around the group, "and I know for certain he is not a stranger to corruption and is certainly a dirty, money-hungry, son of a b*tch." His voice rises as he becomes more angry. At the end of his sentence, he exhales quietly and regains his composure. Can't let myself get carried away. "If you don't want to come with me then I will not question it. I have four ready men with me," he reaches out his hand to the group in statement, most closely, the old gnome, "but you seem to have a very intimate knowledge of the situation. Through whatever means you know of the stratagems of city guard thieves I will not question, but regardless, I'm sure your experience will be called upon." His eyes, which had been wandering around the fireside environment, now shoot up to match Salamander's glare. "So now I ask you - are you with us?"

Salamander raises an amused eyeridge at this. "Four ready 'men', huh?" He chuckles, looking meaningfully at the wolf curled up near the bonfire. "Yes, I can see that the hairy fellow is just raring to go." His expression turns serious and he meets Iladros' stare. "I don't have any initimate knowledge of this setup, but I've seen scams that sound like this one. I'll travel with you for now, because I'm heading in that direction anyway and it's safer travelling in a group. If it turns out that the sitch in Ashcombe is above board, and there's a decent bounty on the bandits, you can count me in for a fair share of hunting 'em down. But I'm not going to stick my neck out for you just because there's some bad blood between you and some town guard... not unless there's something in it for me." Salamander crosses his arms and he leans back slightly, his expression blank. "We got a deal?"

[Cyrix]

Neran looks intently at the man furiously scribbling with his fingue. "Notes." he thinks to himself "I should take notes to keep all this nonsense straight." He looks around for some writing supplies. He pauses, realization washes over him.

"You all talk too fast... er, what I mean is you all jump to conclusions." Neran looks happy with his recovery. "Even if there ISN'T a bounty on these bandits surely they have a stockpile of random stuff that they stolen. Money, clothes, jewelery, what have you, it'll all be there bounty or not. How's that for there being something in it for you?"

Neran will be playing the part of the predator and the scavenger. This is a lot less glorious then he imagined his adventures in civilization to be but he needed money. His father always told him that money wasn't important, that you couldn't buy happiness. Not having money seemed to be the source of a lot of sadness in his parents so this seemed contradictory. He guesses you could say that money can buy not sadness. Regardless money seemed to be very pivotal in civilized life and if he wished to participate he needed to get his hands on some.

[Hefty Lefty]

The man before his frustrates Iladros. He places his hand back upon the nape of his neck. "Look, I don't have much, and like I said, you don't have to go - I'm not going to force you. All I'm saying is -" His voice trails off and becomes more quiet, looking for a proper response, until he is interrupted by Neran. This is surprising. The antlered fellow seems to have a strong drive as well. At the end of his interjection, Iladros nods in confirmation. "Exactly. Whatever we find, if there is something to find, you can have your share."

[Quietus]

While the group of you discuss things, Nolan takes his leave, as if not wanting to have any part in a discussion that could turn to the downfall of a city - even if it is one that appears to have just recently sprung up, and may or may not be sponsoring bandits. As he goes, however, anyone observant might take note of the sly smile touching his lips - the man is clearly thinking something through, even if he doesn't want to look involved.

As your conversation continues, the fire behind you crumples in a couple of places, the sound of a cracking stick gives way to a soft whump, and a spray of embers into the night sky. Around you, people have broken into small groups, and all pretense of business talk has given way to idle chatter. If anyone cares to seek them out, you can see the minstrel and two of the nomad ladies now, walking hand-in-hand with him in the middle toward the building that serves as the inn. He says something quietly to them, difficult to make out at this distance, but they both start to giggle, and lean into him.

[Dexam]

"Like I said, I'm willing to travel with you all at least as far as Ashcombe" Salamander explains patiently. "When we get there, we can have a look into the situation. If there's a genuine bandit problem, then usually there's a reward or bounty; and if the town is charging five gold a head for protection, it better be a pretty damn big reward. Naturally, I would also expect an equal share of any other gains for an equal share of the work, but I'm gonna need some slightly more solid proof of loot before I start working for charity. As for the other matter," he turns to Iladros again "You didn't start getting all hot and bothered until you spoke to Nolan and he named a town guard. Now, I don't care if this guard spat in your ale tankard or stole your girlfriend; so unless you're paying me, you can fight your own private battles. Am I making myself clear? We have a deal? If yes, I'll see you all here in the morning."

Salamander takes a swig of the berry wine and grimaces. "Gods, this stuff gets sickly after a while." He throws the dregs of his cup into the dust and strides off towards the inn, stopping briefly to gather up his belongings - a leather backpack, waterskin, bedroll, a quiver of arrows, and a recurved longbow.

[arguskos]

"In the morning...." Cormac realizes they plan to travel in the light, and sighs inwardly. May as well make the best of the darkness whilst he can. He finishes his current thought in the journal and dismisses it to the aether from whence it came. He walks a bit away from the others, and lays down in the grass and shadow, staring up at the starry sky, and thinking of home. His home. His mother and father, who surely miss their son, and who would never see him again. The gossamer fibers that composed the wispy citadels of Xil, the beauty and art that surrounded everything in Xil. Compared to it, this dry and empty land was petty, divided amongst itself. There was no such division on Xil. The space gave the natives of this "Vethedar" a curious division and hatred of one another. Cormac didn't understand it, though understand it he must.

Though he was strange to their eyes, he wondered at how easily he infiltrated their society. It seemed that they were accustomed to trusting strangers and ignoring the most basic of facts before their eyes. Never mind. Soon enough, he would control a town, and from there, he would create a vassal state for his brethren and him to rule in Xil's honor. And then, Cormac thought, could the true work begin. He smiled at the thought.

After a long time spent staring up at the stars, lost in his own thoughts, he stood, walking to his room at the inn. He nodded to any still awake and active as he passed. Sleep now, and upon dawn, wake and prepare for travel.

[Hefty Lefty]

His eyes squint as Iladros listens to Salamander's thoughts. He doesn't know exactly why, but this man doesn't agree with him. His comments about Scevola hit especially hard. He doesn't know what he's talking about, Iladros tells himself. Salamander has agreed to journey with them, and Iladros is confident he will be able to reason him into helping their cause along the way. He will be a help. He may be a pain, but he will help. "Fine, deal."

Iladros looks around the group. The man he had be talking with and the studious writer have both left, leaving Ilaros with just the druidic man and the gnome. Before heading to an inn, himself, he turns to the two of them. "So, meet here in the morning. We look to set out early." He flashes them a smile. "I personally thank you both for taking interest. Good night." Unless he is stopped by one of the two, Iladros heads to the inn. He doesn't see anyone else along the way. Upon entering his room, he immediately locks the door and window. The tired, traveled man sets his belongings down beside his bed. He rests in his bed, thinking to himself before falling asleep. Tomorrow is certainly a big day. Nemus, please grant us with safe and swift travel amongst your trees.

[Cyrix]

Neran stands there slightly confused. Civilized people sure seem petty. It's not like anyone has people knocking on their door at odd hours of the night with things for them to do. It seems to be very hard to motivate people. The bandit will certainly have SOMETHING of value even if it's only their weapons. To him it's better then standing around all day. It seems just going somewhere to do something is half of the reward. He can't expect everyone to thing like him.

"Goodnight, I guess." Neran heads over to Kian and lays next to him on the ground.

[Bulwer]

Reegrim nods as his companions disperse. They could bicker about motives all they wished. The travel was the point, for him. He needed a place, and a sign that it was meant to be the home of the temple oak he carried. With Nemus' blessing, that could be a new site for Pellpen to coalesce around. Wazi was their guide now, and surely if it were fated, she would know where to take them.

But for now, the tall folk sleep. Neran is the only one among them who picks the ground.

Reegrim uses a flat rock to dig out a little hole a respectful distance from the man and his wolf, and stands his mace upright in it, draping his cloak over the top to make a little tent to stop the wind. His armor is his pillow, and the rest of his goods have enough bulk to put his feet up on them.

Tomorrow, travel.

[Quietus]

The night passes quickly, the wine bringing sleep to anyone who seeks it - those of you sleeping outside have the sounds of the crickets and the crackling of the fire to lull you off, and its embers last well into the evening to help keep you warm. Every now and then, the nomad's herds call quietly from outside the walls, but for the most part, the evening is quiet. Inside the inn, the first portion of the night is a bit more noisy, for anyone unlucky enough to have a room next to the minstrel's, but eventually even they fall asleep, and once they have, silence falls over the building.

And, all too quickly, morning. Bright rays shine in through windows and over those dozing under the sky, and the herds grow noisy again, little ones seeking food and parents seeking to calm the children. The fire from the night before has died out, but already there are nomads working to stoke part of it back up for their breakfast; Inside the inn, the main floor is dedicated to several tables where food will be served for those willing to pay, and the tantalizing smell of bacon and eggs, along with the scent of powerful coffee, is beginning to fill the room. Anyone looking out over the Central Plains can see the islands of stone hanging in the skies above them, their tops hidden by layers of fluffy white clouds, and though the merchants themselves are inside waiting at tables to get their food, their various employees are outside preparing their wagons for the day of trading ahead of them.

OOC :
The islands of stone are literally that - hunks of floating rock that hang in the sky over the Central Plains. There are rumors of people that live up there, but since anyone who does, hasn't bothered to come down and say hi, it remains a rumor. Just so you guys are aware that it's not a WHAT THE HELL THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG HERE moment. :smalltongue:

[arguskos]

Cormac, wakening in the pre-dawn, just as the first rays of light creep over the hills, prepares himself with speed, checking his mysteries and spells in the quiet of the pre-morning bustle. He is already downstairs, just finishing his breakfast, when the others wander down. Cormac turns away from the coffee, instead selecting a dark ale as his drink of choice with breakfast. He nods to the others as they come down.

He dismisses his journal, and gestures to Iladros to join him at the table. "You clearly have a plan for this. Let's hear it." His face betrays no emotion, and his tone is, as always, flat and businesslike.

[Hefty Lefty]

Rubbing his eyes, the dawn's light rises Iladros from his light sleep. He rises from his bed, carefully puts the sheets together, then sits cross-legged on the floor and begins his daily stretches. His mind wanders as he presses his right arm against his chest. He really got less sleep than he ought to, compliments of a certain minstrel's songs - and his equally loud bedmates. I can't believe how loud they were - all night! A jealous Iladros thinks, I had half a mind to knock on that door and join in! After a solid ten minutes of exercise, the woodsman gathers his things, dons his light armor, and leaves his room empty. He walks down the hall to the communal rest room, where he pulls out a small knife from his pack. He splashes hot water on his face and begins to shave. If I'm going to start a journey, Iladros tells himself, I'm going to start it right. After drying and putting his knife away, the clean-shaven man leaves the rest room.

Upon walking downstairs, his feet aren't even on ground level when Iladros is invited by an early-rising Cormac to the table. He gives the man a quick glance and begins talking while pouring himself a tall glass of orange juice. "Good morning. It's comforting to see you up so early thinking about our mission. I would like to tell you a more well-thought plan than I have, but I -" Iladros finally has the attention of the barmaid. The mid-aged blonde woman has seen better mornings. Regardless, Iladros keeps his polite smile, "- Yes, I'll have two eggs and a grapefruit, if you have one." She answers him with an apathetic nod without even looking up from the glass she is cleaning. "Anyway, where was I?" Iladros pulls his seat away from the table and sits in it. "Oh yes. I'd really like to know how this group operates. The party I used to be a part of was a group of very resourceful men like myself. We specialized in quick, guerrilla combat and were able to spend many nights in nature before returning to civilization." Iladros takes a sip of his juice. It's a bit sour. "But I don't exactly think this new group can recreate that. For example, the old gnome, Reegrim. Do you think he's capable of combat at all? This may not seem too neccessary, but if we're to travel miles on the road, I'd honestly prefer to travel off the trail through the woods. Bandits tend to prey on parties walking on the path. And another thing - I think a key part of our final plan, once at the city, will be to weasel our way in with the city guards. I used to have a friend, Tenido." Iladros' rapid-fire words begin to slow here, but quickly speed up again. "Tenido, my partner, had tongue as sharp as a dagger. The fellow Salamander has the most knowledge of the composition of the situation, but I'm at a miss as to how he will win over the members of the guard. Perhaps you or Neran are more apt for this role, and Salamander can simply feed either of you lines? We have at least a day on the road today, where we can discover more of our party's traits, but as for now, I don't have much of a plan because I don't have much to work with. Have you picked up on anything I have not?" His mouth parched, Iladros takes a long swig of his juice. The vitamins should grant him enough energy to survive on the path today. Hopefully his new companions are as prepared.

[arguskos]

Cormac finishes his eggs, over-hard on toast, and drinks his ale as Iladros rambles on and on. He wonders, as the man blabbers on, if he ever decides to be quiet. As the end finally comes, Cormac sets his drink down. He looks about, checking for Salamander's presence. Not noting the scaly one, he responds quietly."Yes. Two things. First, mercenaries work for coin, not causes. Be wary of Salamander. Second, concerning Reegrim, a battered exterior hides much. I am unconcerned for his ability. Come, I believe the trader awaits us. Finish your meal, and let us be off." He drains his ale, and waits for Iladros to finish eating.

[Dexam]

The front door of the inn swings open and Salamander strolls in, fully laden with armour, pack, and weaponry. His breathing is slightly heavy, as if he's recently been exerting himself, and his scales and gear are filmed with a light sheen of dust. Spying Cormac and Iladros at their breakfast, he merely catches their eye and nods an acknowledgement of their presence, but does not approach. He then demands the attention of the harried serving wench, ordering a large breakfast - bacon, eggs, bread, cheese, left-over hadrosaur meat, fresh fruit, and coffee - and passing her a gold coin.

Finding a relatively clear space in the main floor, Salamander schucks his pack and weaponry, and proceeds to spend several minutes performing a series of stretches and exercises that appear almost ritualistic in their execution. The exercise routine complete, the dragon-blood then begins to inspect his weapons and gear in minute detail, wiping away specks of dust with a lightly oiled cloth. During the weapon-cleaning his sizable breakfast arrives, but it remains untouched and ignored until the inspection is finished.

Apparently finally satisified, Salamander gathers up his kit and his meal and approaches the table where Iladros and Cormac sit. Without waiting for an invitation he places his meal on the table and stows his gear, then reverses a chair and straddles it, arms leaning on the wooden backing. Still not a word is said has he begins to plow into his breakfast with enthusiasm. It's not until the plate is about half cleared of food that Salamander finally speaks. "So, what are your plans?"

[Hefty Lefty]

The eggs are rather tasteless, but it's sustenance nonetheless. Iladros stuffs them down to later enjoy his fruit. He looks behind him before speaking. "Believe me, I'm wary of Salamander. We'll watch out for him." He swallows his mouthful of eggs before speaking again. His voice is at a normal volume now. "I'm interested to see if you're right. If that priest has any fighting prowess, I'll be impressed." He may end up just being a liability, but, perhaps not. We'll see. He pours a bit of pepper on the eggs, but it's no help. "I wonder how they all will fair, honestly. The only one I'm truly confident in is the wolf!" After a few more minutes of eating, he gives Cormac a quick nod as Salamander makes his way into the dining room. Iladros pours a generous helping of sugar onto his grapefruit. The tangy citrus fruit is a sweet relief to the bland eggs. "We were actually both about to go outside and visit the traders' wagons before we head out. But I see you... won't be ready for some time. That's quite a feast you've got there." It's the first morning, and we're already waiting on this guy? Iladros finishes his meal, drains his glass, and leaves his tab on the table, along with a generous tip. Hopefully that will brighten her day. "Shall we wait for you, or will you meet us outside?"

[Cyrix]

Neran awakens, sits up and begins to meditate. He asks the natural world for power so that he might change the world around him to suit his needs. He asks for the power to bend and shape wood along with his general assortment of usual spells. He weaves this power of nature into his very being. Using his soul to memorize the spell instead of his brain.

(Adding one Warp Wood and one Wood Shape spell to my list FYI)

After he is done meditating he steps off into the brush a bit to start foraging for wild edibles. Bugs, berries, mushrooms, or maybe perhaps some small game, whatever he can find that will give him some energy for the road ahead.

[roll0] survival.
(YEAH! Suck it nature!)

[Dexam]

"We were actually both about to go outside and visit the traders' wagons before we head out. But I see you... won't be ready for some time. That's quite a feast you've got there." It's the first morning, and we're already waiting on this guy? Iladros finishes his meal, drains his glass, and leaves his tab on the table, along with a generous tip. Hopefully that will brighten her day. "Shall we wait for you, or will you meet us outside?"

Salamander shrugs, not pausing in the demolition of his breakfast. "Whatever you want," he says around a mouthful of bacon. "I won't be long - some of this is lunch, y'know." Still chewing, he uses a table knife to carve off a wedge of cheese and a hunk of bread. He then wraps the larger portions of the cheese and the bread in some clean muslin cloth, which then gets stowed in his backpack along with the majority of the fruit.

Salamander takes a long, slow sip of his coffee, savouring the rich, bitter flavour. "Aaaah... their coffee is a lot better than their wine. Anyone seen the gnome, or the wildman and his pet wolf, this morning?"

[arguskos]

Cormac nods. "Checked some time ago. They are outside."

[Hefty Lefty]

Seeing the meal quickly disappear before his eyes, Iladros figures it wouldn't take to long just to wait for the man to finish before heading outside. He takes a facecloth from the table and dabs a bit of egg from his face. They slept outside? I suppose I was wrong about resourcefulness. The gnome impresses me already.

[Quietus]

As the morning moves forward, and each of you get your respective meals, the population in the dining room changes. The porters, who'd been outside getting the wagons set up and ready for their employers, appear to have finished their work for the time being. A slow stream of them begins to fill up the room, and the traders finish up their meals and head outside to begin the day's work. The general volume level rises as the working men come in and chatter loudly amongst themselves, telling stories and laughing loudly. If you hang around longer, you still receive prompt service - apparently tipping generously goes a long way, particularly in Salamander's case. While his scales appear not to bother most of you, he's had about as many people approach him today as he had the night before.. that is to say, almost none. After dropping a gold for his hearty breakfast, however, the servers at least seem less concerned with his appearance. Everyone's gold is worth the same, as they say.

Outside, Neran takes a bit of time outside of the city's walls to hunt up his breakfast, gathering quite a collection of roots and berries, as well as a snake and a pair of rabbits - the area around the city isn't farmed particularly often, it seems, instead supplying itself off of the traders that come through. The sheer amount of edible material the druid finds would actually be difficult for him to carry. Kian, in the meantime, feeds (him? her?)-self, as well as taking any meat you're willing to part with.

In the open space provided for trader's wagons, the nomads have brought their fire back to life, and have taken to preparing their breakfasts - the smell of something they probably consider coffee wafts out of several bubbling pots, no doubt the same quality as their wine the night previous. Strips of meat are heated up, and as the merchants come to their wagons, the day's activities begin in earnest. A few of the nomads remain to keep the fire going, and food coming, while those with goods to trade travel back and forth, snagging bits to eat in between making deals.

Of the wagons themselves, there are quite a range; Covered, uncovered, double-sized, reinforced, and a couple that are remarkably ostentatious, with awnings made from what appears to be purple silk. A quick glance at the small city of wheeled vehicles suggests that most anything could be bought here, and that's fairly true - a wide selection of basic weapons, most of them bladed but with a few spears and maces mixed in for good measure, the vast majority of them requiring metal for some part. Stocks of arrows, bolts, and basic bows and crossbows. One wagon is full of hooks, hanging large numbers of pots, pans, and other cooking ware on display.

And then there's the silk wagons. Nolan, dressed well beyond the occasion as seems to be his style, is presiding over these personally, and seems to be entirely in his element. A quick examination shows that these wagons are set up specifically for the rarer, more expensive, and in many cases far more breakable objects; One is devoted entirely to alchemical concoctions, with rows of alchemist's fire and acid resting in custom-built containers to keep them from being jostled.. and presumably treated so as not to light aflame should the worst case happen. His second wagon has a much more odd assortment of items, the space in it used terribly, but each individual piece displayed prominently - such as the top that is currently spinning endlessly within a small box, bumping into the edges and redirecting its path, but never slowing down.

[arguskos]

Cormac, having left with the others, gravitates over to Nolan's wagons. He walks among the isles, using detect magic to separate the chaff from the wheat. Seeing little of interest to him, he turns to the merchant, and asks quietly, "Have you no scrolls or true potions, merchant? There seems to be nothing here of value to such as I."

[Cyrix]

Neran returns to camp with his bounty happy with the bounty he has before him. He takes as much as he can carry, storing away some root and other longer-laster food away for a rainy day. He tosses the two rabbits to Kian and HE gobbles them up greedily. He takes out a wooden bowl and fills it full of berries and smashes them up into a compote. He cuts open the snake and takes out the guts and replaces them with the berries and sows it back up. He wraps the snake around a stick and gets the fire going again and roasts the snake over it. While the snake cooks he pops random spare berries in his mouth along with a few of the nastier tasting bugs.

Whenever the gnome wakes up he is sure to offer him some of the snake or some berries. He doesn't ever remember eating bugs when he was young so he doubts people normally do so he decides against offering that.

[Dexam]

Salamander's interest in the goods on display is superficial at best - the items that he can afford are of little use to him, and his coin purse is far too light to be able to purchase the equipment on display that he truly desires.

Instead, he makes better use of his time by discreetly enquiring among the caravan guards and wagon drivers. The mercenary seeks out those who have recently travelled to Ashcombe or Crickstock prior to it's destruction, discussing with them their opinions of the events reported Nolan, and anything related they might have observed when visiting either of the towns.


Gather Information: [roll0]
(OOC: Woo! I may have actually terrified someone enough convinced someone to talk to me! :smalltongue:)

[Hefty Lefty]

Iladros scans the wagons looking for anything useful. He already has everything he'd need for travel, and he doesn't have enough gold for the things he wants. He scans the cart dealing arrows and bow weapons, but is content with what he has on his budget.

He leaves the carts when he spies Kian across the fire. "Good morning," he raises his hand in the air when greeting Neran, "I see you've got a nice breakfast going there. I'm sure you won't have a problem with the long journey we have today. Have you seen Reegrim? I feel we're just about ready to go."

[Cyrix]

Neran points over to the figure of the elderly gnome.
"Good morning to you as well. He is still fast asleep by the looks of it."
Neran pokes at the roasting snake.
"I should be ready to go here soon. I can always eat this on the road."

[Quietus]

"Ah, yes, of course - I'm sorry, I tend to keep the more valuable things locked away, less interest in them than the other things here. People do love their trinkets, you know! Are you sure you wouldn't be interested in .. no, I doubt you haven't much use for a shirt that changes color, would you. Well then, let's get on with it..." While he digs out some keys and unlocks a folding portion of his wagon, you get ample opportunity to scan over the trinket offerings; aside from the ever-spinning top, Nolan has a train set that continually runs around its little track, bits of steam puffing from its smokestack, a deck of cards that seems normal, but radiates magic, an apparently mundane set of diviner's bones, and the shirt that he'd just mentioned, currently bearing a few rough strips of color that seem to wander aimlessly across its surface.

When he's finished unlocking and folding out the extra portion of his wagon, the number of magical signals leaps - nothing extraordinarily potent, but he's got a fair number of scrolls, and even a couple of potions, available for purchase. With another glance at you, he murmurs, "Yes, the one with the book? Wizardly magics, then, I'd guess? That would be these ones here." With a gesture, he refers to one of the three sections that had folded out; Each scroll is wrapped individually with a tag showing which spell it holds. The second section holds other scrolls - presumably Divine, given the Cure Light Wounds tag you can see - and the third potions, each with a tag tied around its neck.


In the meantime, Salamander is trying to chat up the various workers, many of whom you find unwilling to talk with you; They answer basic questions with short replies, and generally avoid eye contact, and you get the feeling the only reason you get that much from them is because you pose a rather intimidating figure. From that, however, you gather fairly basic facts - both towns used to be farming villages, mainly, but Crickstock was all but burnt to the ground, and Ashcombe.. is no longer the city it once was. Many of the buildings remain intact, but much of the town's previous populace was nowhere to be seen when the caravan passed through, replaced by the new guards.

After a while of trying to get information out of people that want nothing to do with you, however, you notice one man sitting at a table, his buddies having just left to go play darts, waving you over. Once you join him and sit down, he says, "Listen, these folk.. we've seen enough, sure, but you ain't gonna win their hearts by tryin' to scare the hell out of'em, though you sure seem like you're pretty damn good at it. They're already scared, see, scared for their jobs, and scared for what could happen to'em if they say the wrong thing. You want our opinion? S'the Black Dragon Clan, them robbers and bandits, that're doin' all this. Ain't seen hide nor hair of'em in the last two passes of the route, and now everythin' goes to hell in a handbasket? That don't smell right. If that's what's happenin', you watch your nose, you hear? They're cunning bastards, come at you from angles you won't see comin', and take you for every penny you're worth."


Nolan's Magic Shop :

Arcane Scrolls - 25 GP each, caster level 1
Alarm (2)
Grease (1)
Mount (3)
Summon Monster 1 (2)
True Strike (2)
Hypnotism (1)
Shocking Grasp (1)
Disguise Self (1)
Silent Image (1)
Cause Fear (2)

Divine Scrolls - 25 GP each, caster level 1
Bless (1)
Bless Water (1)
Cause Fear (2)
Cure Light Wounds (1)
Divine Favor (2)
Endure Elements (1)
Entangle (1)
Obscuring Mist (2)
Produce Flame (1)
Speak with Animals (1)

Potions - 50 GP each, caster level 1
Cure Light Wounds (2)
Enlarge Person (1)
Magic Weapon (2)
Sanctuary (1)

Trinkets and knick-knacks
Ever-spinning top - 10 GP
Self-locomoting locomotive (with real steam action!) - 10 GP
Deck of Trick Cards (makes basic magic tricks easy!) - 25 GP
Diviner's Bones - 25 GP (And counts as a focus for Augury)
Everyman's shirt (changes color at will) - 25 GP

[arguskos]

Cormac looks the selection over, then hefts the potion of Enlarge Person, uncorking it and sniffing for inconsistencies. Satisfied, he digs out his money, and hands 50 gold to Nolan. "Appreciated, trader. Should you come across anything... stranger than what you have here, keep me in mind." The shadowmage turns to leave, then thinks better of it. "Speaking of, you see and hear much, yes?"

[Quietus]

"Pleasure doing business with you - let me know if you're looking for something in particular, and I'll see if I can come up with it for you." Nolan slips the gold into a pouch at his side, apparently satisfied with the jingle the coins make as they collect in the bottom. When you stop and turn to ask him another question, however, he raises a brow, answering, "Well, I do tend to get around. My memory is stronger where it pertains to names and faces, however, than general events. Why do you ask?"

[arguskos]

Cormac steps close to the merchant, lowering his voice as he does. "I am looking for a man. He looks like myself in height and skin and hair color. He is named Speed, and is an archer and hunter of some skill. Have you seen this man?"

[Quietus]

"Mm.. Speed, you say? I'm not sure... I know there was a fellow like the one you're describing, but I don't think Speed was his name... Sneak? Stalk? I think that was it.. couple weeks back, in Vaeles. He was looking for a particular potion, I'd just bought out the stock at the Wizard's Guild. Invisibility potions are popular amongst the adventuring types I run into, I guess he'd come just after I'd bought them out, so they sent him to me. Fastest profit I'd ever turned. Now, he bought a few, maybe he was planning something with this Speed fellow you were looking for? Or maybe he just had reason to remain invisible for a while, probably a fair guess for a man named Stalk." While Nolan speaks, his eyes narrow with the effort of remembering the odd details, but he seems completely sure of the information he provides.

[arguskos]

"What do you remember about him? Did he say his destination, anything at all?" Cormac doesn't visibly appear excited or even attentive, but inside, he is quite so to hear such news. Stalk, in Vaeles, not two weeks ago. Planning a heist, most likely. Good, good.

[Quietus]

"Honestly? Didn't ask. Sorry, wish I could tell you - but I do know this. Not a lot of people are too keen on coughing up for a half-dozen potions of Invisibility without a good reason to use'em. He had a.. look about him. Kinda like you do, but harder to focus on. You're just.. distant. Him, he was like he almost wasn't there. I'm all for doing good business, but when a man like that gives you reason to keep to yourself - like ponying up for that kind of magic - your smart move is to do it." He looks honestly apologetic for the remarkably small amount of information he has to give, though that could just be because he was hoping he could make a little coin off of it.

[arguskos]

"You have my thanks, Master Nolan. I will keep you in mind in the future." Again, he turns to leave, and again he thinks better of it. "Now, before I take my leave, would you be interested in purchasing a... unique ware?"

OOC:

Now is a good time to note that all of Cormac's scrolls of any kind, along with all his journals, are marked in a small way with a unique Xilian title and date system. It doesn't actually say much, just "Property of Spin, dated XYZ". The date is in the Xilian calendar, which is probably pretty damn close to Vethedar's.

Basically, this is a ploy by Cormac, to get the attention of the others. Nolan travels much, sees a lot, and draws attention. If the others come to his store, look at his wares, and see Xilian script, they will stop and perhaps think of him. That's good. It's a mind game Cormac's playing, he's letting them know he's looking for them.

[Quietus]

"Unique wares are my bread and butter, my friend. What have you got in mind?" Nolan's eyes seem to have lit up at the prospect of something new to add to his collection. Given his current consideration of 'unique wares' involves a top that's still mindlessly ramming into the sides of its box, and a train still chugging itself in circles, though.. well, perhaps that only bodes well for Cormac.

[arguskos]

Cormac smiles, and pulls out a rolled up scroll, handing it to the trader. "This is a scroll of a magic unknown to the people here. Nothing you have ever seen is like the magic on this scroll. I offer it to you, for a reasonable price. Surely, magicians and collectors and researchers would love to see it."

[Quietus]

"Hmmm.. possible, possible." Rather than taking you at your word, Nolan draws a small pair of spectacles from a pocket, holding them up before his eyes and examining the scroll you offer him. When one brow rises, you know you've got him.

"Alright, let's say I was interested - because I am. Doesn't seem like an exceptionally powerful item, though I agree it's rare. What price did you have in mind? I'm thinking, oh, around 20 gold - normal price for a scroll containing this much magic, plus a small bonus for its rarity, in the hopes I can make that up somehow."

As a heads up, I'm likely to move things along tomorrow; things have slowed too much for my tastes here, not that it isn't good material, but when we reach the point of "haggling over magic items", I think the interesting part is probably done. :smalltongue:

[arguskos]

Cormac smiles, the first time he's been seen to do so by this group of individuals. "Acceptable. Allow me to...." He flips the scroll, and using arcane mark and liquid night imprints his personal sigil and a few words on the scroll in a corner. "The date, in case I should encounter it again. It is yours now. My thanks, Nolan. Keep an eye out." Cormac nods to the merchant, and steps out to meet with the others.

OOC:

Yeah, it carried a bit too long. I played it like I would with a storekeep IRL, and as the event would happen naturally, but it took a bit too long. I planned to accept his general price anyways, even though I know for a fact it's too low (general buy price for a level 1 scroll is 50 gp, sale is 25; he offered 20, for a rarity too). Cormac doesn't care much about wealth, just his plan, and for it to work, the scroll must find its way to one of the others.

Note that the words were "Spin. Ashcombe. <The date in a week from now.>" It was written in Xilian.

Also, it was a scroll of Bend Perspective.

[Quietus]

Nolan waits patiently while you inscribe your marks on the page, watching carefully as you use liquid night to produce ink out of thin air. Whether he's a mage examining a new curiosity, or a more mundane individual fascinated by magic he's never seen before, it's difficult to tell, but he remains watchful nonetheless. When you're finished and hand over the scroll, Nolan passes you the agreed-upon coin, giving you a wide salesman's grin. "Thank you very much, I'm sure I'll find someone who will be very interested in this curiosity. If I should run into any others of dusky skin, should I tell them you're looking for them? And if so, what name do you go by?"

Once you answer Nolan, and everyone's finished with their morning tasks, the group of you head out of the city. The trade routes are wide dirt roads leading in either direction away from Lanestown, bordered on either side by tall grasses, good for grazing animals. To the north, the shadow of the mountains can be seen, with a strip of dark green forming a carpet below them - a thin trail of forest marking the point where the rising earth meets the rolling hills. To the south, another shadow of dark green; The forest bordering the Central Plains, which has a number of rumors that circulate about it. Perhaps someone among your newly formed band might bear some information, regarding those..

While you take in the countryside, and consider your course of action - any movement through the forests will add time and danger to your trip, but would add stealth and shade alongside it - the world continues to move around you. The herd of hadrosaur, not far to the south, honk amongst themselves as they graze, lowering their great crested heads to take bites out of bushes that grow just above the grass. Their young are busy playing amonst themselves, wrestling and butting their heads together with the dull thock sound of bone on bone.

Cormac and Neran :
The two of you are the only ones that catch the glimpse of movement within the long grasses, the movement of mottled green-and-brown hide stalking the crested herds. Talons twitch at the end of spindly arms, and every so often, you catch a glimpse of clawed feet rising just above the top of the chewed-upon grasses. The two stalking creatures seem fixated on the hadrosaurs, for now, but could change targets if they feel you provide an easier meal.

Neran, though it takes a while to sift through tales of various creatures, you finally narrow it down to just one variation of clawed-foot dinosaurs : Deinonychus, which you remember only as quick, ambush-based predators. A fact you may, if you wait, get to see in action very soon indeed.

OOC
Annnd.. this is where I find out just how observant the group is. The answer? Decent enough, got a couple people with good ranks, but I think the highest Spot mod is around +5. Easy-ambush party, for now? I think so! I see a couple high/max ranks in the group, though, so that should improve.

Also, arguskos, with regard to scrolls.. unless scrolls of mysteries use a different formula than scrolls for spells, a level 1 scroll at CL is is 1 x 1 x 25, so base price of 25, not 50. General sell price is 12.5, which is why I referred to 20 as a "rarity bonus"; Nolan isn't attempting to rip Cormac off.

[arguskos]

"At your discretion, trader. Farewell." Cormac nods to the merchant, then regroups with the others.

In the wild, as Cormac walks with the group, he pulls his hood over his head, avoiding the light as much as is possible, squinting and keeping to the shade when he can. He says nothing about the stalking dinos, preferring to keep his distance and let the others make the first move.

OOC:

1. Oh, right, was thinking of the potion formula, which is 1x1x50. Not sure why I ****ed that one up. :smallsigh: Been one of those days.

2. Yeah, again, terribly sorry I monopolized the spotlight. :smallsigh: Wasn't the intention, and I didn't realize it until later. Others, away!

[Hefty Lefty]

The worn dirt trail crunches under each step Iladros takes. He takes in a deep breath of the forest air. He feels comfortable in the wild; as he looks around the scenery, paying close attention to each individual tree and bush, Iladros determines potential hiding spots or places to take brief cover in. The quick bowman leads the way, often, he accidentally walks too fast, and has to backtrack a short ways to be close to the group. "Hey guys," Iladros begins, spinning around and walking backwards, still at the pace of the party, "Be on your guard." He takes this opportunity to pull his bow off his back and wield it in his right arm. "Get ready for anything. As you all know, these are dangerous areas." He turns back around as a falling tree leaf lands on his shoulder. I should be aware, too, he reminds himself.

[Cyrix]

Neran acknowledges the dinos letting them know that Neran know they are there. He knows that it's always best to go after the easiest prey and he doesn't he best to look like he would be difficult to take on. Hopefully just letting them know that they have been spotted will take their minds off the party as a possible target.

[Quietus]

Almost as soon as Iladros finishes his warning, there's an eruption of noise roughly sixty feet away. Two bipedal dinosaurs, as tall as men at the shoulder, burst forward from hiding with loud screeches and dart like green-and-brown streaks toward the grazing herd. Almost immediately a chorus of honks and howls fill the air, but far too late for the target of the pounce; While much of the herd flees, the combined flurry of teeth, talon, and large foot-claws from two hungry predators is enough to fell one of the adults.

With the herd moving south, away from the hunters, one of the predators bends down to tear a strip of flesh from the fallen prey. The sound of the creature's painful honks don't seem to bother the second hunter, which eyes your group and hisses. Unfortunately, following the beaten dirt road will take you nearer to the creatures - within thirty feet, and given the recent display, it's safe to assume these creatures might be a little protective of their meal.

[Cyrix]

Neran starts to head off the path directly, giving the hunters a large berth.

[Bulwer]

Reegrim spent his morning meditation under his makeshift tent, allowing the camp to go about its business as he secured his daily allotment of power from Nemus. In years past, it would have been spells for the wellness of plants, purification of water, and healing of disease. Now, he was traveling with a warband, so the cleric's role was more... martial.

He ate a quick meal of oats and sugar, then secured his things around his person for the day's travel.

* * *

On the road, Reegrim watches his companions more than he watches the countryside. Most are unlikely friends for a priest. Neran reminds him of home, though, a man of the forest who leaves no footprints behind him as he walks. The bowman who follows Nemus would ordinarily be a ready companion, but he has an edge that makes Reegrim nervous.

He's startled out of his thoughts by the hooting of the beasts. He doesn't break stride, but his eyes snap to the hunters and their prey as he draws and strings his bow. He follows Neran in his route away from the kill.

Predators are a fact of life in the forest. Gnomes leave them be as much as possible, and the fires of Pellpen were enough to deter most of them. Beasts like this, all muscle and claw, are alien to him, though he might have heard something useful from a traveler in years past.

[roll0] Knowledge(Nature) for Knowledge Devotion bonus.

EDIT: +2 Insight bonus to attack and damage for this combat vs animals.

[Dexam]

Leaving Lanestown, Salamander stares somewhat disdainfully at the wide grassed plains and distant forest as he trudges along the dirt path wide enough for only a single wagon. He's used to more civilized locations and more heavily travelled roads than this, and the tall grasses put him on edge - the ease at which an ambusher could hide is disconcerting to the ex-mercenary.

He is more than happy to let Iladros take the point, as the bowman seems to be more at home in such an environment. Instead, the dragon-blood uses the time walking to casually study his new travelling companions, and notes that the small gnome seems to be doing the same thing.

At Iladros' warning and the sudden commotion from the herd of hadrosaurs, Salamander quickly unsheathes his greatsword and assumes a defensive stance, carefully scanning the environment for the source of the upset. Spying the predators crouching over their kill, he slowly follows Neran and Reegrim off the path, shooting quick alternating glances between the dinosaurs and his companions, so that he knows their positions should the creatures decide to attack. His sword remains raised, forming a barrier between himself and the predators; as he calls forth the dark power that roils in his mind, ready to unleash it at a moments notice.

[arguskos]

The shadowmage, seeing his companions decide to step away from the critters, follows suit casually. He keeps a single eye on the dinosaurs, and follows suit with the others. He pulls no weapon, choosing to instead rely on his magical prowess as a defense if violence becomes needed. He glances up at the sun, muttering in Xilian and keeps his hood raised, sinking back even further into it.

[Hefty Lefty]

The lead on the trail, at least ten feet ahead of his companions, is much closer to the animal when it begins to feast upon its prey. Almost as quickly as the dinosaurs appeared, Iladros whips his bow out in front of him and knocks an arrow. He crouches and begins to slowly approach the beast. "Easy boy." He speaks to the wild animal slowly and quietly as if it were a household pet. "We just want to go around you." Iladros turns his heads to check on the status of his followers. They appear relatively unphased, but cautious nonetheless. Perfect. Iladros is impressed. They're quick and on their guard. All of them. As the bowman, garbed in his camouflaging forest green cloak, makes his way way closer to the feasting animal, he remains light on his toes, ready to move at the slightest sign of attack.



OOC: Iladros walks towards the animal at a maximum of 10 feet away. If the beast moves in an attacking motion, Iladros will run 10 feet backwards to the front of his party's formation and fire his arrow.

[Quietus]

While most of the group chooses to skirt the predators and their meal, Iladros appears to have decided to take the opposite approach - going off the trail, which would have kept a 30-foot distance between him and the dinosaurs, and going near enough that, if his calming tones work, will let the rest of the party move by without issue. Unfortunately for him, these creatures are not easily calmed, particularly by someone without extensive training in how to handle such beasts. The one that had already begun to eat continues to do so, but the other was already alert and hissing, and is none too pleased with the intrusion.

Despite your best efforts - and they apparently were quite good efforts, given that one of the beasts remains eating, though it keeps one reptilian eye on you - the more attentive one appears to have considered you a threat, and leaps the distance between you effortlessly with a howling screech, even with the ten additional feet you put between you. The powerful claws on its feet rake through your studded leather and catch flesh, though your backward motion minimizes the damage; its smaller arms prove less capable of reaching you, and it's only by your nimble grace that you manage to dodge your head to the side just in the nick of time, the creature's foul breath abruptly in your face. You do, however, manage to get your arrow off while it's in the air.. the only question is how good your shot is.


You got lucky there, Hefty - Iladros takes a meager 5 points of damage. Min damage on the Talon attack, and you JUST missed the Bite by virtue of your Skirmish bonus. Otherwise, you would've taken more. I'm also treating your bow-shot as being a readied action, so you won't take an AoO for it - this time.

I'm treating this first exchange as a surprise round, then entering normal initiative; Iladros and the deinonychus act in the surprise round, since they triggered the combat. I need attack and damage from Iladros, and then Reegrim, Neran and Salamander get to act before the deinonychus gets another turn. Since we're using the group initiative system, any of the four of you can post up whenever you get the chance.

Since we were at 60 feet + skirting the predators - 20 foot charge, assume that you're at 60 feet away from where Iladros and the dinosaur are, if you are.. anyone but Iladros.

[Cyrix]

Neran shakes his head in disappointment. At least MOST of the party seem to understand the natural order. Neran runs towards the beastie while drawing out a spear and tosses it in the creatures direction. He keeps Kian by his side for now, in case his presences might get the second dino involved.

(I drew my weapon during my 30 feet of movement so I'm at 30 so that's 2 range increments. I forget how it works as far as "first one's free" so I'll make two rolls. one at +0 and one at -2)

[roll0]
[roll1]

(Wow I rolled well)

[Cyrix]

Forgot to roll damage hurf

[roll0]

[Bulwer]

Reegrim mouths a prayer as he takes aim at the beast. The young human is too close. The bowman and the beast swim in and out of focus as he nocks an arrow and tries to aim.

"Iladros, get away from it!"

He pulls back on the arrow. For Nemus' sake, how had he gotten into this? He was a hundred and eighty-two, he shouldn't be firing a bow for the first time in fifty years with a man's life on the line.

He breathes in, then out, slowly, releasing the arrow.

[roll0]

that's +7 by default, +2 more for Knowledge Devotion, and -4 for shooting into melee without Precise Shot.

Damage is [roll1] on a hit.

[Quietus]

Amazingly, both weapons strike true, despite the difficulty of hitting something at range that's in melee. Neran's spear sails high, aimed to avoid striking Iladros by accident, but still manages to dig a furrow through the flesh of the dinosaur's skull. Reegrim, too, manages to land a solid shot, his calm overcoming his concerns regarding his age just long enough to fire his arrow cleanly into the dinosaur's body, relying on his knowledge of how creatures like that move to land the shot more solidly than would have otherwise been possible. A bit of the creature's blood splashes against Iladros from the wounds.

Reegrim :
Forgot to address this earlier, and I know that much of the information you would get from the Knowledge check is kind of pointless now, but in the interest of completeness : The predators are a pair of deinonychus, creatures known to be ambush predators. They typically open combat with a pounce that lets them bring all four of their natural attacks to bear - which you just saw against Iladros - and can continue to fight with all four at once. They generally travel in packs of 3-6. Two like this is a relatively uncommon sight.

[Hefty Lefty]

OOC: Surprise Round

Iladros dives back. The pain sears through his body. The leap attack caught him completely off-guard. He always trusted that he was quick enough to avoid any attack, but the agile dinosaurs have composed themselves as lethal foes. He rolls backwards as the ferocious attacker releases him from his claws. He runs away, light on his feet, stands in front of his men, tall and proud. He takes a quick breath. As he pulls back his left arm, his world seems to slow. People and weapons flying by move in slow motion as he observes his enemy. Focused, Iladros aims at the dinosaur and then fires his arrow, straight and true.

[roll0]
Critical Confirmation: (1d20+7) [24]
Damage: (1d6+3) [7] x3 = [21] + (1d6) [6] = [28]


OOC: Round One

Watching his arrow fly through the air, Iladros dabs his arm to find a more bloody wound than he originally felt. He knocks another arrow and runs 20 feet, circling his foe but remaining within 30 feet of it. Amidst his movement, he fires his shot, catching his prey in an area it wasn't guarding. After his shot, he crouches low in an athletic stance, ready to dart left or right depending on the creature's reaction.

[roll1]
Damage: (1d6+3) [9]

[Dexam]

Salamander's eye's widen in alarm in seeing that Iladros is electing not to skirt the creatures, but instead approach them.

"What in the name of the gods is that fool doing?" he hisses.

It's hardly surprising when one of the creatures attacks, defending it's prize of the hadrosaur carcass. Salamander utters a string of curse words in the Draconic tongue, then unleashes a curse upon the beast. As missiles fly past he charges the creature, swinging his greatsword in a powerful arc.

Swift action: Hexblade's Curse (Will DC 14 negates).
Full round action: Charge (+2 attack, -2 AC) and Power Attack for -2 attack, +4 damage.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[Dexam]

OOC: A critical threat! :smalleek:

Critical confirmation roll: [roll0]
Additional damage on hit: [roll1]


Sweeeeet! :smallcool:

[Quietus]

The deinonychus' cries halt rather abruptly, as Iladros' arrow finds purchase, burrowing deep into the creature's neck, to the point that the arrowhead sticks out the opposite side. As if that wasn't bad enough, Salamander's blade finishes the job, cleanly hacking its head from its shoulders. Its body takes two more shuddering steps forward before falling on its side, massive foot-claws twitching instinctively despite no longer getting instructions from their brain. Twenty feet away, the second dinosaur gets to its feet, a strip of flesh hanging from its mouth, and bounds away as quickly as it can, leaving behind the hadrosaur, which still makes gurgling moans, although those sounds are quickly growing weaker.


OOC :
Will save for the very, very dead deinonychus : [roll0] If that comes up 14 or better, one hex/day is used up for Salamander.

500 exp for everyone, I wasn't expecting this to turn into a fight, but even a damn animal knows better than to screw with people who just dismantled one of its kin in the space of six seconds. :smalltongue:

[arguskos]

Cormac watches disinterestedly as his "companions" both provoke and then kill the dinosaur. As they regroup, he says, a nearly imperceptible smile on his face underneath his cowl "Well done. Shall we continue, or are you more interested in provoking another fight, Iladros?" He gestures back to the road, waiting to continue to Ashcombe.

OOC:

Also, yay, free XP, the very best kind! Thanks guys! :smallbiggrin:

[Cyrix]

Neran approaches the beast's headless body and kneels down. He produces a small hunting knife that he uses to cut out one of the creature's talons. He then uses his knife to cut away at the flesh that is holding his spear and does his best to retrieve it. Having done what he could with the spear he then cuts a large chunk of flesh and hide a rolls it up in a large leaf.

"No point in letting it go to waste, I just wish I could carry more. Maybe some of you all should grab a few pieces. It should stay fresh for about a week and we wont have to worry about food."

Not sure what you'd like me to roll if anything at all for what I described but i'll give you some.

Here's three survival checks, one for taking the trophy, one for cutting the meat and one for retrieving the spear if applicable.
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

And a dexterity check, i forget what you are suppose to roll to retrieve ammo. I think you only have to roll for arrows and bolts but I could be wrong.
[roll3]

***

As the party walk along Neran takes a sharp piece of bent metal and work sit back and forth creating a hole in the talon. He takes a piece of animal sinew from his person and strings it though the newly made hole. He then hangs the talon over one of the many antlers on his head.

I'm also assuming I can just take 20 on my craft check for this sort of simple stuff if not here's a roll.
[roll4]

[Cyrix]

Okay something is wrong with this dice roller. 2 natural 20's in 4 rolls... oh man what a waste :smallannoyed:.

Two natural 20's on taking a stupid talon, that better be the best talon ever heh.

[Dexam]

One foe dispatched and the second fleeing, Salamander slowly scans the surroundings for any other potential threats. Finding none, he lowers his sword, tears out a handful of grass, and proceeds to thoroughly wipe the blade clean before sheathing it. The dragon-blood then glares at Iladros. "That was a foolish risk you just took," he says coldly, and gestures Iladros' wounds. "I hope you've learned a lesson from this."

Salamander turns to see what Neran is doing, and nods in agreement. "Good idea... though maybe the herd beast will taste better." Drawing a dagger from a sheath at his hip, he carefully approaches the wounded hadrosaur. Standing clear of any potential spray, he locates the jugular and dispatches the creature with swift efficiency. He waits for the gush of blood to subside, then slices a number of strips of flesh from the carcass. Like the druid, he wraps the meat in a large green leaves, tying them into bundles using strips of grass, and stows them in his pack. Task complete, he cleans and sheathes his dagger, and returns to the trail leading to Ashcombe.

[Hefty Lefty]

As the second animal sprints off into the wilderness, Iladros stands up slowly and approaches the dinosaur. He is very pleased with his archery, but does not show it, as the rest of his party seems perturbed. He turns around to congratulate his companions on the good fight, but upon hearing negative remarks, claims, "We had to pass the beast anyway. We would've either passed these two here on the trail, where we can all see and aim clearly. Would you all rather fight any number of them, amidst the trees and grass, on their terms?" He glares back at Salamander. Learned a lesson? I just destroyed that dinosaur in one arrow, what do we have to fear from them? Iladros kneels down, unsheathes his dagger and cuts a generous slice of meat, wraps it in leaves, and ties it tight with a small piece of twine from his pack. "Now," Iladros urges the party on, "Let's continue," he emphasizes the following, "along the path we intended to travel." He adjusts his backpack on his shoulders. "We want to continue towards Ashcombe some time in the near future, don't we?"

[Quietus]

Gathering up bits of the beasties goes smoothly, food and trophies being procured easily. The talon Neran adds to his antlers - if he's collecting the large toe-claw, as I suspect - is surprisingly heavy and solid, but if he's willing to bear the weight and is careful to put it where it won't jab him in the eye, is certainly one way to display that he's bested a powerful predator. The hadrosaur's pitiful moans subside when Salamander takes his knife to its throat, and the large section of flesh he cuts away will likely be more tender than that taken from the predator, but both will be plenty of food for the days to come.

With the herd and the predators gone, the landscape seems much more empty, aside from the carcasses laying nearby. Facing eastward, the beaten trade path lays ahead of you, with mountains towering over a strip of forest off to the north, and a dark shape of a forest sprouting up among the plains to the south. Taking the trade route would be the fastest way to reach Ashcombe, but would lead through several villages along the way. Cutting north and circling around, or south through Reegrim's home forest, would both increase the time traveled, but would be more likely to let you get there unnoticed, if that's your goal.

[Cyrix]

Neran smiles at the other's willingness to take his suggestion. He doesn't really understand the concept of 'tenderness', meat is meat to him. When you're eating bugs and bark during the winter in between kills you aren't too picky when it comes to how tough the meat is.

"I can travel through the woods just as easily as you all down a road. It is up to you all which way we go. I wouldn't mind seeing the Gnome's home through."

Neran would like to avoid heading north and any possible giant encounters. With Iladros as aggressive as he seems it would be safer to head south. He can handle a hand full of goblins himself and a few gnolls. He has never fought a giant before and doesn't know their strength but he feels safe to assume that they are much stronger then a goblin.

[Hefty Lefty]

The bowman looks around at the group as Neran cuts his meat. "That's a good idea, Neran." He looks down at Neran with a genuine smile. It's probably best to lay low for a bit, Iladros thinks. The group didn't seem too pleased with me attacking the animal, I should be more aggreable. "The two of us are equally capable carrying on in the woods, and I'm sure Reegrim will have no problems leading us to his hometown. What say you two?"

[arguskos]

Cormac shrugs, merely pleased that the sun is lowering itself slowly. "Neither matter to me. As you will."

[Dexam]

Salamander ponders the choice of routes before the group, before finally answering. "Personally, I would prefer the trade road - it'll give us a chance to ask any other travellers about what is happening in Ashcombe." He shrugs, causing his chain shirt to jingle. "But if the majority prefer a different path, then yeah, going to someone's home town is better than wandering about in unknown territory... assuming we'll be welcome in Reegrim's home town?" He raises a questioning eyebrow at the gnome.

[Quietus]

Time is spent as you discuss which way to go - the morning wears onward, and you see the first trader head out, back along the eastern trade route. Seeing the group of you, and the beheaded dinosaur (which is now beginning to gather a few flies), they give you as wide a berth as they can, given that their wagon needs to stay on the road. In time, a decision is made, and your intrepid group treks off the beaten path, steering south and toward the trees on the horizon.

The rest of the day is fairly uneventful - occasionally you pass by a grazing herd of dinosaurs, and at least once your presence causes them to immediately flee, leaving only trampled grass and dung in their wake. You even spot a number of wild horses, though they keep their distance. The predators in the plains, however, appear to keep their distance; Only once is anything threatening spotted, a lone bipedal dinosaur with a row of spines down its back, and wicked six-inch-long claws on each foot - possibly dangerous if it had decided to attack, but this creature, at least, knew better than to mess with a "pack" on its own.

By the end of the day, the forest is much closer; At a guess, it might take an hour, possibly two at most to get there, whether by forced march or simply trekking in the morning. If you prefer to set up camp, there are plenty of trees to provide shade come morning - not so many as to call the area a forest, but enough that Cormac could find occasional reprieve. Once inside the forest, of course, that won't really be so much of an issue. The ground here is still mostly long grasses, but around the trees this is less so, shade stunting the growth of the plants beneath it.

OOC :
I've slightly widened the forest in the middle of the map for this campaign, since with the addition of a wandering group of gnomes and the support for that, I felt I needed the extra space. Just so you know. If anyone has objections to me simply choosing a route.. I went with the one that had the most votes, regardless of whether Reegrim wants to show you folks his town (and if he can find it). If there are objections, feel free to raise them, but this is intended as a push to keep moving, regardless.

Also... DC 14 Knowledge(Nature) to open, for curiosity's sake :
The dinosaur described there is a fleshraker; DC 19 to know about its paralytic (dex damage) venom.

[Cyrix]

[roll0] Druid powers activate!
"There seems to be safety in numbers and good thing too. Any battle avoided is a good thing for us especially one with an animal like that." Neran watches the animal with acute interest for as long as it stays around. He studies it's details, the way it moves, he even tries to study the way it thinks. Getting inside the head of something is difficult though. It doesn't help when the thing you are studying runs off. Perhaps there was safety in numbers but there was also noise, and scent. It is going to be hard to learn much about wildlife with him 'pack' scaring everything off. Neran figures there is plenty to learn about the human animal. Not to mention elves, dwarves, gnomes, and whatever the hell Salamander is.


"I say we keep moving for the cover of those trees. It would server as a good deterrent against larger predators." Not to mention he would feel more at home with some trees over his head. Walking under an open sky with no trees around makes him dizzy. "If it rains or something they'll be more materials for making a quick shelter as well."

[arguskos]

Cormac looks up at the still far too bright sun. "Agreed. Better to take cover than sleep in the open." While the group walks, he pulls out his journal again, and this time anyone watching can easily see from whence it comes: thin air. He simply holds out one hand, and the already opened book materializes, wisps of shadows forming into an ephemeral tablet of pages. He holds his other hand over the journal, and the oh so very strange ink begins to flow from his fingertips in the curious script of Xil. Cormac never looks at his writing to check it for errors, trusting his innate skill to see it done.

Around now, as shadows become longer, does the first truly odd thing about Cormac become clear. His own shadow is unusual. It doesn't follow his motions, not exactly. It's almost as if it is a few steps behind the person.

[Dexam]

Salamander nods in agreement with Neran and Cormac. "Agreed. Better to push on and make for the cover of the trees, rather than camping out in the open. Especially if there's more of those spiny dinosaurs around... wouldn't want a pack of them coming up on us in the night." The dragon-blood swats idly at a flying insect trying unsuccessfully to bite him through his ruddy scales. "We'll also be able to safely light a campfire to cook our dino meat." He gestures at the wide open grasslands around them. "Light a campfire out here, and everyone will be able to see it for miles."

Salamander says little as the group marches on, preferring to remain as alert as possible while in unfamiliar surrounds. He does note the appearance of Cormac's journal, but makes no comment on the unusual method used to produce it, other than a quizzical look directed at the foreigner. However, when Cormac starts writing in the book, Salamander draws alongside him, curiousity evident in his expression. "If you don't mind me asking... what are writing about?"

[arguskos]

The mage listens to Salamander's question without pause of walking or writing. He thinks on the query for a moment, and just when the silence stretches long enough to warrant another question, he responds. "I am not a native of these lands, Salamander. I wish to understand this place, these people, this strange culture, so I reflect on what I see through writing. Do you not do something similar, you who are as out of place as I?" He looks at the dragon-blood, gauging reaction, ever writing.

[Dexam]

"Write down my thoughts and reflections on what I see?" Salamander gives a short, sharp laugh. "Hardly. I haven't really been one for writing things down, and it's dangerous to leave your thoughts lying around where anyone can look at them - though I suppose it's okay for you with your magic book and all." He marches along in silence for while, brow furrowed in concentration, heavy leather boots raising tiny clouds of dust along the trail. Eventually he speaks again, looking at the mage. "I suppose that everyone reflects on what they see and what happens to them - if only in their head. It's how we learn, I guess. As for me being out of place," the dragon-blood raises a hand and in the dying light of the sunset examines the scales and talons where skin and fingernails once grew. "I guess that you're talking about this? If so, I'm only 'out of place' because that's where fools place me. I had no more control over this happening than a dwarf has over being born a dwarf, or a tall man has over being tall. Yet the fools put me out of place," he sneers, eyes glinting. "And by doing that, they're even more foolish."

[arguskos]

Cormac chuckles at the other's consternation, a rattling hollow thing. In the fading light of the early evening, he stops writing for a moment to lower his cowl, revealing his ashen skin to the open air. He turns his dead black eyes to Salamander, and in them glints something hard to decipher. Humor, perhaps? "You allow them to define you, Salamander. A dwarf or tall man chooses his own place in life. So should you." He looks down at his journal, the ink faintly glowing in the dim light, and remembers Xil, the society he left behind for the betterment of all Xilians. "We control so very little in life, Salamander. Do not let your life be out of your control too."

[Dexam]

The ex-mercenary snorts with barely suppressed mirth. "My life is no more or less out of control than anyone elses. Which is why I find myself in such esteemed company" he replies, making a sweeping gesture at the varied companions.

Salamander ponders briefly, as if considering something, then lowers his voice so that only Cormac or a keen-eared eavesdropper might hear. "I'm more than happy for them to define me. Because when they put me out of place, the place that they put me is above them. Do you want to know why?" he asks, then continues without waiting for a reply. "It's because they fear me... us... the dragon-bloods. And that fear gives an advantage to any who would exploit it." He pauses momentarily. "The dragon-bloods are a living, breathing symbol of everything the common folk fear. People fear that which they don't understand, and no one seems to understand how or why the change takes place. So parents look upon us, and are afraid that such a change may happen to their own brats. Others fear us because we're a reminder of generation after generation of living and dying at the whim of the lord dragons. Perhaps they're worried that one day the dragons may return and punish them for their rebellion," he smiles with a humour that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Or maybe they're afraid that the dragon-bloods make seek to place themselves in the positions left vacant by the dragons, and so they try to keep us from aiming for that particular destiny..."

Salamander trails off, seemingly surprised that he has said so much to this stranger. Glancing about, his voice returns to its normal volume. "Tell me... do the dragons still rule in the lands you come from?"

[arguskos]

The dragon-blooded rambles on and on, and Cormac listens politely, taking it all down. He listens to Salamander's near-tirade about fear and power, and inside, the mage sighs. This warrior knows little of power, fear, or anything similar. Cormac ponders at what Salamander is so afraid of, but decides he'll find out in time. Finally, the soldier asks a clear question, one to which Cormac has a ready answer. "Dragons? No. In fact, we've no record of such a beast, nor have I seen one in my travels. Tell me of them, that I may have a story for my return, a story of these fanciful monsters."

OOC:

Quietus, I'm rolling with the concept that no one knows why the Xilians left Vethedar, and that Xil has no record of draconic anything at all. To Cormac, "dragon" is a cryptid, like Bigfoot or the Yeti are to us. :smallcool:

Also, I have plans for another post soonish, assuming I get around to revising my religion eventually. Busy life. :smallsigh:

[Quietus]

While Cormac and Salamander talk and compare notes, the process of traveling continues, each of you pushing your bodies as best you know how. In time, the forest begins to loom overhead, and the darkness grows thick. The last rays of dusk's light just barely manage to pierce the canopy overhead, and those among the party without low-light or darkvision begin to have some trouble seeing things among the trees. Thankfully, despite the forest's strong canopy, the trees themselves aren't too close together, though pushing through the ground cover proves annoying in places.

After a bit of searching, you manage to find a place where the plant growth is thin enough to set up a basic campsite in the day's dying light. Trees rise up all around you, and it looks like someplace no one has set foot in for years; it's very easy to feel all alone, surrounded by darkness and nature like this. Some among you might feel it more comfortable, in fact, being much more used to roughing it and being on your own.

OOC : arguskos
Yeah, I know how that goes. We can toss around religion stuff in the OOC thread if you like, though like I said, life's about to get busy. I'm expecting a rapid downturn in the amount of posting over the holidays.

Iladros :
Oddly, this place feels familiar to you; it's hard to tell without proper daylight, but the sounds, the smells, the feel of plants grabbing at your ankles... this might have been the forest where your old gang's hideout had been.

[Cyrix]

Neran walks within ear shot of Cormac and Salamander. He studies their social interactions taking special notes on body language and gesture. Animals use non-verbal communication exclusively but he knows it is important in humanoid social life. He listens to Salamander's take on fear of the unknown. To Neran it sounds like Salamander is trying to twist his resentment of people's fears into some sort of vague advantage. While fear can be used to extort people it's hard to use it for much else. Fear can be overcome with familiarly. Neran's pack was terrified of the first fire he made but their came to appreciate it eventually especially on cold winter nights.

Neran grabs up some dry grass as he walks and tosses up the chaff into the air to figure out the direction of the wind. He takes a mental note to build the camp's fire so the wind blows the smoke into a large tree's branches so as to disperse the smoke.

Neran assumes that the question about the dragons was asked to the party in general but doesn't answer. He had hear of dragons as a boy but he had never seen one. Certainly no lord of any sort ruled over Neran's forest, or rather the forest in which Neran lived. The only rulers he knew of were the orcs who had taken the village he lived in and he doubts that was related to dragons in any way.

If anyone other then Cormac responds Neran will simply say "No dragons that I know of..."

[Hefty Lefty]

The typically attentive Iladros has been a bit off-focus for about an hour now. He walked in the front of the party, not talking to anyone, checking each tree and plant-life. He appears to be closely looking at the environment. He is studying each hill and each trail, as each clue brings him closer to the reaslization that he's been here before. And the last time he was here, he wasn't alone. Is this where we used to camp out? Iladros asks himself, a tad paranoid, No, it can't be... Am I really that close to home? His fears seem to actualize as he recognizes more and more of the surrounding area. "Okay everyone," he turns around and speaks for the first time in an hour. "Be on your guard. I know I always say that but... I mean it. These are dangerous areas, trust me."

[Dexam]

Salamander's eyes narrow dangerously as he realises that Cormac hasn't stopped writing while he spoke, nor does he offer any opinion on his thoughts. "If you want stories of fanciful monsters, find yerself a bard" he says coldly. "But if you want to learn about dragons, speak to a sage or historian." He stalks away from the strange mage without another word.

* * *

As the travellers push on through the gathering dusk and into the darkness of the forest canopy, Salamander, not possessing any form of natural eyesight to help in the dim lighting, is forced to slow his pace lest he injure himself. Eventually the reaches into his pack and draws forth an already lit torch that burns without smoke or heat. Aided by the soft yellow light of the magical torch, he is able to set a much better pace until the party reaches a small clearing that is mutually agreed to be the best place to set camp.

While Neran sets a campfire, Salamander does a circuit of the immediate surrounds, with the dual purpose of scouting the layout of the area and gathering any dry fallen branches for use as firewood. Returning with an armload of kindling and heavier wood, he notes the apparent nervousness of Iladros. "Dangerous areas?" he queries the bowman. "What do you know about this place?"

He drops the firewood near to the campfire and brushes loose dirt and bark from his arms. "Anywhere you go is potentially dangerous. We'll need to set a watch order. If we count Neran and the wolf as a pair, we can have three shifts - myself and Reegrim, and Iladros and Cormac for the other two shifts." He pulls out his dagger and starts whittling a green stick into a skewer to cook his dino meat over the campfire once there are enough coals.

[Hefty Lefty]

"That kind of caution is exactly what I mean." Iladros nods to Salamander's sleep orders. "Did you find anything noticeable while collecting your firewood?" Iladros scurries to the nearest large rock and scans the area. He holds his lamp out in front of him to assist his human eyes.

[roll0]

[Cyrix]

As soon as the brush gets dense enough to conceal it Neran produces a large mushroom cap and places it on top of his stag skull. The mushroom gives off a bright blue iridescent light (Just light spell flavor). He walks confidently through the woods without much slowing down. The branches and brambles seem to part on their own and welcome him in. When the group finds a nice place for camp Neran gets to setting the fire. He finds a few large flats stones and sets them on the edge of the fire pit and lights the fire.
[roll0]
He digs a small hole in the ground not too far for the fire and lines it with leaves. After the rock gets hot enough he tosses it along with the dino meat into the pit, large leaf and all and covers it with dirt.

"I guess I'll take the first watch. I'll go set up some traps."

Neran crawls into the underbrush and begins to set up some simple alarm traps. He strings up some green vine around the trees near the camp and places a long stick through the vine near a bush. He then twists the vine and wedges the stick in such a way that if someone were to bump into the vine the stick would start to spin hopefully smacking into the brush repeatedly making a bunch of noise.
(I can make one of these in about 5 minutes and that was after just haring about them, really simple stuff)
Survival check:
[roll1]
(Those are some awesome spinning sticks)
After he is done with the traps he returns to camp. He lets his new traveling partners know about the traps in low tones in case of the off chance that someone is listening. He sits down next to the fire and waits for his food to finish.

***

He quietly digs the meat out of the ground and cuts off a little more then half and gives it to Kian. He sits and watches the fire and keeps his ears open for any unusual sounds. Once in a while he takes his eyes off the fire ans scan the darkness of the tree-line for movement.

[roll2]Spot
[roll3]Listen

[arguskos]

Cormac misses the conversation for a moment, but then realizes that Salamander's inner fears must have taken hold yet again, and determines that perhaps it was for the best in such a case. He walks with the others, listening to their quiet chatter and to the world around him, copying down his interpretation of it all. He writes of the fear he sees in Iladros' eyes. He writes of Salamander's all-too-harsh dismissal of a topic close to him. He writes of the relationship between man and wolf that the wild man treasures so much. Above it all, he writes about the growing darkness, and how it comforts him to be enveloped by the shadows once again. Even in the darkness, he continues to write, but now his ink shows up, glowing with but a candle's light.

As Salamander dictates the watch orders, Cormac listens quietly, and nods at the arrangements. He takes a seat far from the others, distant from their light but still in sight of them (making sure to sit just inside of Neran's traps and to not disturb them), and with his back to them pulls out a necklace, a holy symbol, dismissing his journal as he does. It is a piece of silver, a pair of half-circles that bleed into each other like a pair of raindrops swirled together. One half is a polished and brilliant silver, the other is tarnished over completely. Cormac speaks quietly in Xilian as he holds the symbol in his hand. <Ghera, lord of the shadows, prince of the darkness in all men's hearts, I give voice to your name, and ask that you smile upon your faithful. Grant me your wisdom, show me the steps of the pathway, lead me to your blissful embrace, shield me from your sister, lest her glaring gaze burn my eyes away. To you, I am ever loyal, Ghera. To your power, I bow. To your mercy, I plead. To you, I am ever loyal, Ghera, master of all that moves in the dark.> His prayer complete, he closes his eyes, and holds the holy symbol close for a moment. He realizes he forgot the highsun prayer to Kutha. Tomorrow, he would need a moment to perform the proper ritual for her forgiveness. Hopefully, the heathens he traveled with would be willing to give him the give minutes required.

[Quietus]

Iladros :
Your keen eyes manage to pick out a marking carved into a tree, a rough X with the tops bending back down like a pair of hooks. Below it are four horizontal lines. The marking is familiar; It was once used to show paths through the forest by your previous companions, the number of lines telling you that you're some distance from the old hideout - far enough that patrols will be uncommon, but no more than an hour's travel for someone going straight toward it.

With a rough camp forged from the forest floor, and a string of simple, but hopefully effective, traps laid out, the group of you go through your evening routines - cooking of captured meat, prayer, small talk until you're tired enough to rest - and lay yourselves out to sleep. The forest floor is cool beneath you, and the soft scent of plants and earth makes it easy to drift off to sleep.

Alas, the night is not to pass smoothly; As Neran stares alternatively toward the fire and out into the night, straining his senses to pick up on anything, he fails to notice anything .. but Kian does, standing abruptly, fur standing on end in one stripe down his back and growling into the darkness. A moment later, the sound of your spinning sticks smacking repeatedly into the plants nearby draws your attention, but try as you might, you find it impossible to see the creature that Kian is readying himself to attack.

OOC :
I'm going to give Neran and Kian one round's worth of actions, and the chance to clarify what Kian is to do when he detects something approaching. If it involves attacking, roll a d% for miss chance along with any attack rolls - low is always bad on such rolls.

If anyone had something else they wanted to do before going to sleep, now's a good time to speak up. :smalltongue:

[Cyrix]

(Oh crap Brambles is not that spell I thought it was. I want that spell the makes plants grab onto people which is.... entangle shoot. Is there anyway I could change out that spell, looks like it's level 2 too, damn.)

If I can change out the spell; I'll cast entangle(http://www.d20srd.org/srd/spells/entangle.htm), targeting the area where the trap sounded from. and shout "Something is here!" Hopefully waking everyone. Kian will stay by my side until I can assess the treat.

If I cannot change out the spell I'll cast Produce Flame (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/spells/produceFlame.htm) targeting where Kian is looking.
[roll0] miss chance
[roll1] range touch
[roll2] fire damage
Depending on what I see I send Kian in to attack (If it's a T-Rex or something obviously not...)
[roll3] miss chance is applicable
[roll4] chompers
[roll5] teeth damage
As soon as I can I will yell "Something is here!" Hopefully waking everyone.

[Quietus]

OOC :
Regarding brambles/entangle : I'll allow it this once, but only this once, and because you're effectively trading out a 2nd level spell for a 1st.

At first, you see nothing - the trap going off and Kian's growling, however, gives you a rough direction/area to drop your Entangle spell into. As the plants in the area writhe up and around the creature, you begin to understand - the traps are at the very edge of the shadowy light provided by your fire/light spell, and the only reason you can see anything at all is because of the entangling plants providing an outline.

As you finish the last words of your spell, a massive section of the forest bursts into life, wrapping around everything within the area. In the center of this chaos, vines and brush form the outline of a large creature, one apparently formed from pure shadow. It's slightly larger than Kian, with a reptilian body, a trashing tail that seems to have several spikes protruding from it, and a pair of heads, each tearing with jagged teeth at the plant life attempting to grab hold. Even staring directly at it, it's hard to believe what you're seeing; the body seems to be transparent like a shadow, but must be physically there, as your spell seems to have grabbed hold. Your shouts are enough to wake everyone.

Initiative and mechanical stuff :
Nice and simple this time; All of you, then the creature. I'll only count Reegrim in the initiative order if Bulwer posts before the creature gets another turn, but if you do rejoin us, Bulwer - you're before the critter too.

Knowledge (Planes) to identify the creature - and its turn here in the surprise round was spent making a failed attempt to escape the Entangle.

[Cyrix]

(Hopefully that's the last bit of my retardation to show itelf this game. I somehow doubt it :smalleek: I adjusted my spell sheet for the spells I plan on preparing for tomorrow but I wont use the new one until then)

"Go Kian, Attack!" Neran shouts. He follows his wolf with a, hopefully, well chucked spear. He has no real knowledge of anything unnatural so he doesn't even bother trying to figure out what this thing might be.

[roll0] spear toss
[roll1] damage

Kian rushes in taking advantage of the creatures preoccupation with the tangling plants. Kian lunges for the thing's leg trying to take the beast to the ground.

[roll2] bite
If he hit's he'll try and trip the thing.
[roll3]trip
[roll4] damage

[arguskos]

OOC:

Is there any chance Cormac recognizes anything about the critter without Knowledge (the planes), which I couldn't buy, due to skill point limitations? I've got Arcana, if it matters.

If not, fair enough.


Cormac starts, seeing the creature for the first time. He twists his ring, muttering a few words as he does, and a set of shadowy armor appears over him, complete with a shield of darkness following him. He takes a step back from the beast, and racks his mind, searching for the answer to the riddle of its existence.

Actions:

Move: "Draw" the magering while standing (as per the drawing weapons rule, you can draw something while moving, which standing certainly is. It's a bit of a stretch, but I think it makes sense.)
Standard: Activate it for a casting of steel shadows, gaining +3 armor and +3 shield to AC for 1 minute.
Free: Five-foot step away from the critter.

AC: 18 (3 armor, 3 shield, 2 Dex; the 1 deflection is unactive atm, due to caul of shadows' duration having expired during sleep.

[Quietus]

Neran's spear flies true, though perhaps not quite as strongly as he might have liked - he does, however, manage to clip the side of the creature, resulting in both heads howling in pain. That seems to be the only way you can tell that the attack actually landed, though, as no blood spurts from the wound, and its shadowy nature makes it hard to detect any details about its ephemeral body. Kian, unfortunately, isn't quite as lucky - the strangeness of the beast, combined with the whipping of the grasses around it, make it difficult to grab a hold and drag the creature down.

Cormac has plenty of time to get his protections up, as the slight warning provided by Kian's nose and the simple traps means the beast is currently held a small distance from where everyone was sleeping. Even to his darkvision, however, the creature seems somewhat ephemeral, as if a portion of it weren't quite there.

OOC :
For references' sake, even in bright light (it's currently in shadowy light), treat this creature as having concealment, 20% miss chance. I'm using a slightly modified version of this : http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/MotP/Dusk_Beast.jpg

As to Cormac's possible Knowledge checks.. I know how annoying it can be to run out of skill points, and I *was* considering giving you a roll against this.. go ahead and roll Knowledge (Local) for anything you might have picked up in Xil; I won't be giving you any noteworthy mechanical information on it, since you don't have ranks in the appropriate skills, but at the very least he might know it by reputation.

[arguskos]

Rolls:

Also a Knowledge I don't have. I've only got Arcana, but I'll try anyways. Maybe I'll get a 10 (max you can get on an untrained knowledge skill, which is why they're so vital to have).

Knowledge: [roll0]

[Quietus]

Cormac :
I'm aware, which is why I didn't have you roll against anything originally. Arcana doesn't apply to these creatures, and that's your only Knowledge skill. Actually, looking back at the stuff on Xil originally provided, maybe History would've been more appropriate.. Ah well, it's untrained Knowledge, either works.

Though vague, Cormac can remember stories told of Xil's past, of times long ago, before his people had the dusky skin they bear today. Shadowy people had come to the island, and been welcomed; they had been accompanied by creatures, though the name escapes him, that had similar qualities to this creature.. namely, its strange status as being not-quite-there. Supposedly, some of them still exist in the Xilian wilds, but Cormac had never encountered one before this.

[arguskos]

OOC:

I really shouldn't have taken those ranks in Forgery. :smallsigh:

Also, coolio, generous result is overly generous. :smallwink:


Cormac says nothing, judging the existence of such a creature in the Xilian wilds to be a fact for a later time. "Use caution. This beast is not entirely present. The shadows give it concealment from us."

[Hefty Lefty]

Iladros, sleeping still on his boulder, is quick to react, yet hesitant. At first, he is stricken with fear. Thank Nemus for his twisting, twirling vines. If the protection of the grass roots weren't here, we'd be dead in our sleep! Upon closer inspection of the dark shadowy beast, he fears are far from lessened. The thing is a gruesome terror. It looks like something from a nightmare Iladros had a week earlier. The bowman grabs his trusty weapon from beside him. In a nimble effort, Iladros leaps towards a tree, landing with one foot, then pushing off it with all his strength. He changes his velocity and lets an arrow fly in midair.

[roll0]
Damage - (1d6+3+1d6)[11]

((OOC: This isn't anything special. Mechanically, Iladros runs 40 feet (to within 30 feet of the creature). But this sounds cooler.))

[Dexam]

Startled from his slumber by the sound of Neran's alarms being triggered and by the druid's yell, Salamander rolls out of his bedroll and to his feet, greatsword in hand. Peering about he spies other members of the party attacking a dark shape, twisting and writhing in living plant bonds.

"What in the names of the gods...?"

Salamander is vaguely reminded of the monster he slew in the small trade road hamlet only several days ago, though this... thing appears even more bizarre.
Calling forth his innate talents, the dragonblood summons forth some small red-glowing spheres of mage-light that zip over to hover near the trapped creature. As he steps cautiously towards the thing, Salamander once again draws upon the dark talent within him and calls a curse down upon it.

Actions:
Move action: stand up, drawing sword while doing so.
Standard action: cast Dancing Lights near the creature.
Free action: 5' step towards the creature.
Swift action: Hexblade's Curse (Will DC 14 negates).

[Quietus]

Under a barrage of attacks, the creature takes another arrow, striking into its chest beneath one of its two heads. It continues to thrash at its bonds, however, and bits of shadowy liquid splash the ground around it from the pair of wounds inflicted on it. Whatever the creature is, it's clearly not pleased with its current predicament, and extremely angry - angry enough to shake off Salamander's curse with ease. The lights dancing about it only serve to highlight its oddness, seeming both to light it up as well as showing that the creature truly seems to be made entirely from shadows - shadows which, though they crawl backward at the light, somehow remain in spite of them.

And then, it's gone.

In the blink of an eye, the creature seems to melt down into the stark shadows cast by the writhing plants that had hold of it, leaving several dancing lights illuminating animated vines and grass. The Entangle's prison collapses on itself, the creature clearly no longer there, with no sign of where it's disappeared to.


Neran :
Though you can't see the creature anywhere, your keen ears manage to pick up the sound of something large moving through the bushes off to the right of your Entangle, something that wasn't over there a moment before.

[Cyrix]

"Is there another one or did this one somehow move over there instantly?" Neran decides to find out, he casts Produce Flame (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/spells/produceFlame.htm). He clenches his fist, turning his knuckles white, then a strange glowing red. His hand suddenly bursts into flame. This somehow does not bother him as he nonchalantly ***** back his hand and throws a small ball of fire toward the sound.

(God I wish there was a button that you could press to give you the and tags.)
[roll0] miss chance
[roll1] ranged touch attack
[roll2] fire damage

Hopefully the creature will have been illuminated by this. reguardless Neran says, "Kian, attack!" while pointing where he heard the noise.

[roll3] miss chance
[roll4] chomp
[roll5] bite damage
[roll6] trip attempt if he lands a hit

(Welp, rolling like crap now that it matters. Isn't that typical?)

[Quietus]

The flame dancing across Neran's fist temporarily floods the area in a deep red light, and illuminates the area it passes through. The flash of red light shoots through the forest, eventually impacting against a tree trunk and leaving a blackened, charred circle in its wake. It's difficult to tell, but it seems the shadows react oddly to the passing red light in one spot, and he sics Kian after it - the wolf is cautious, however, unable to see the creature it's after. Regardless, he follows Neran's commands, chasing off in the direction the ball of flame was fired, veering off to the right when he catches the scent. With a growl, Kian lunges, but his teeth catch nothing but air - the area the two are fighting in is covered in darkness, but the lack of any answering yelps tells enough.

[arguskos]

"Iladros! Aim true, for your sight flies with your arrow." Cormac moves to the bowman, and touches his nocked arrow, speaking an arcane word as he does. The arrow glows brightly, illuminating the campsite.

Actions:

Move action: Move to Iladros.
Standard action: Cast black candle, choosing the light option, on Iladros' arrow, assuming he has one (and what bowman wouldn't?).

[Hefty Lefty]

The bowman feels his arrow light up with a magic glow. He stands in place only for a brief moment as Cormac casts an arcane spell upon it. The two seconds Iladros must wait to recieve the casting are unbearable. His light feet bounce without patience. His eyes dart around the forest, but has difficulty finding a target. He fires his arrow toward where he saw the shadow refract, hoping that signifies a target. After attacking, his feet take off, sprinting towards the target, but remaining behind the vicious wolf Kian.

[roll0]

[roll1]

[Dexam]

Muttering under his breath as the creature shakes off his curse and vanishes from its bonds, Salamander glances around wildly. Seeing the bolt of flame from the wildman and the wolf attacking something in the shadows of the trees, with Iladros' enchanted arrow following soon after, Salamander mentally directs his spheres of mage-light to hover near the wolf.

Spying their shadowy attacker in the glow of the magical lights, he calls another hex upon it, then charges with a powerful ovverhand slash.

Actions:
Free action: move Dancing Lights to near Kian.
Swift action: Hex on creature (Will DC 14 negates)
Full round action: charge, Power Attack for 2.
Miss Chance: [roll0]
Attack: [roll1]
Damage: [roll2]

This assumes that Salamander is actually able to charge, otherwise assume move and attack if within 30' (attack roll will be 2 lower than roll); otherwise double move to target.

[Quietus]

Between the flashes of red light from Neran's bolt of flame, the illuminated arrow, and Salamander's dancing lights, the shadowy creature comes back into view, though it remains ephemeral, and vaguely wavery at the edges. Unfortunately, Iladros' arrow flies wide, sticking itself into the ground a few feet from the creature, but close enough to keep it within the light's radius. With two simultaneous voices, the beast growls and lunges at the most recent individual to strike it, lashing out with both heads and its barbed tail against the dragon-blooded warrior.

Two bite attacks vs. Salamander : [roll0], for [roll1], and [roll2] for [roll3]. Barbed tail lash [roll4] for [roll5].

Will save : [roll6], and if that's 13 or lower, all three of those attack rolls are 2 lower.

[Quietus]

Confirming that critical (sorry Salamander..) : [roll0]

[Quietus]

The shadowy reptile's two heads dart forward, and Salamander finds himself grabbed in one of its mouths, its teeth digging quite solidly into his flesh. The worse part is when its second head also digs in, tearing a huge chunk of meat from his side and spilling blood across the ground, splashing against its ephemeral skin. Thankfully, Salamander's backward stagger after that blow lets him evade the lash of its barbed tail, as he doesn't look like he can stand another solid hit.

[Dexam]

Gritting his teeth against the agony and fighting a sense of dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him, Salamander retreats from the creature, using his sword to deflect its snapping jaws as he backs away. Clearly this creature was much more dangerous than he had judged, for the wound in his side was a serious one and it was testament to his training that he was still standing.

He retreats to where the others are grouped near the campfire, dripping blood with each step. "I'm outta this fight," he wheezes through clenched teeth, talking through the pain. "But I'll help where I can..."


Actions: Withdraw from combat (full round).

[Cyrix]

"I hope this does it, I'm not looking forward to having to try and stab that thing" Says Neran mostly to himself. He draws his scimitar with his left hand and tosses another fireball with his right.

miss chance
[roll1] ranged touch attack
[roll2] fire damage (1 charge left)

Kian move in while the strange beast is distracted by all that tasty meat it just took off of Salamander. He goes low aiming for one of the thing's thigh.

[roll3] miss chance
[roll4] chomp yet again
[roll5] bite damage
[roll]1d20+3 trip attempt if he lands a hit

[Cyrix]

[roll0] for the off chance that a 15 hits.

[arguskos]

Cormac watches dispassionately as Salamander gets savaged by the creature. He raises one hand, palm facing the beast, and mutters a string of dark words, sounds that make the ear spin. A ghostly arrow forms out from his palm, then flies forth towards the thing. Cormac positions himself between Salamander and the creature as the arrow flies, looking to keep its attention away from the near-death warrior.

Actions:

Standard: Cast arrow of dusk at it.
Move: Circle-strafe to between Salamander and the beastie.


Rolls:

Arrow of Dusk: [roll0] ranged touch.
Damage: [roll1]

[Quietus]

OOC :
Annnnd.. this is where I have to apologize to Hefty. I didn't bring any of my books with me on my trip, and called his attack roll of 15 a miss; I remembered all the other stats for this creature correctly, but thought its AC was 17. Its AC is, in fact, 15 - which means I have to retcon his arrow to a hit, and also means that Kian is in a difficult position now. Maybe. Depends on whether the Dusk Beast manages to resist falling to the trip.

Since the arrow hit, and is carrying the Black Candle mystery (light spell), it is now visible to everyone quite clearly. As long as it's got that, there's no miss chance.

Opposed strength for the trip : [roll0]

Whether it's due to the creature being disoriented by the glowing arrow stuck in its side, or simply distracted by the sizable chunk of scaled flesh hanging from its dark teeth, it's hard to say - either way, the rain of attacks falling on it seem to be wearing it down, as both the flash of red fire from Neran's palm and Kian's teeth find their marks. The light from the arrow does seem to sharpen the creature's edges, making it easier to find it, but it doesn't do anything to make the creature look more solid; Despite being clearly defined, it still appears to be made from solid shadow.

Unfortunately for Cormac, none of that seems to help him to get a clean shot off. The wild twists of combat make it difficult to line up your arrow, and when you see Kian grab hold and begin trying to pull the creature to the ground, you aim for where you expect the shadowy reptile will end up - only to have it stand its ground, breaking Kian's hold with a spray of black ichor to match the many droplets already spread around it.

[Quietus]

With the glowing arrow stuck firmly in its side, the shadowy reptile lashes out, its two heads going for two entirely different things - one mouth snaps at the arrow stuck into its hide, only to be pulled away from its target by the motion of the other head, which darts forward and clamps teeth down on the only target in reach, Kian. The wolf lets out a yelp of pain as shadowy teeth sink into its fur, but his instincts prove sharp enough to get out of the way as the creature's tail lashes through the air, tearing up undergrowth but missing Kian completely.

10 damage to Kian from the creature's bite, but thankfully I didn't crit this time - interestingly, I learned today that sunder attempts only draw attacks of opportunity from the creature you're targeting, in this case itself.. so no AoO's for its poor attempt at removing the glowing arrow.

[arguskos]

Cormac mutters something in Xilian about arrows and wind and the flight speed of unladen swallows and fires again.

Actions:

Standard: Cast arrow of dusk.
Move: Move to block the critter from getting to Salamander, if needed.


Rolls:

Arrow of dusk: [roll0] ranged touch. SERIOUSLY DICE ROLLER? SERIOUSLY? :smallmad:
Damage: [roll1] nonlethal.

[Dexam]

Seeing that the shadow-beast is intent on attacking the wolf rather than pursuing him, Salamander reaches into his belt pouch and fishes out a vial. Removing the stopper with his teeth, he downs the contents with a single gulp, sighing as the potion's warmth spreads through him, stopping the blood slowly oozing from his wounds.

Actions:
Move: retrieve stored item - potion of Cure Light Wounds.
Standard: drink potion of CLW - [roll0]

OOC:... I'm thinking the forum dice roller doesn't like us any more.

[Quietus]

Cormac's arrow of solidified shadow seems unnatural, amongst the light being given off by the numerous spells, as if it was made from the same almost-material as the creature itself. Unfortunately for him, the beast weaves with the shadows cast by that light, and Cormac finds his shot just barely missing, passing over the top of his target's muscled back. In the meantime, Salamander takes a moment to down his healing potion, and while it certainly doesn't fix a great deal of the damage done, his wounds heal over enough to stop bleeding, and his pain lessens a bit.

[Cyrix]

Neran winches, sharing Kian's pain. Neran has never really had to deal with anything of this nature before and is at a slight loss as to why it still stands. He launches forth his last fire ball and runs after it drawing his shield and scimitar. He gets within about 10 feet of the thing.

[roll0] miss chance
[roll1] ranged touch attack
[roll2] fire damage

"Bring it down Kian!", Neran shouts redoubling his companion. Kian shakes off the pain of his injuries and goes at the beast's underside yet again trying his best to trip the thing up.

[roll3] miss chance
[roll4] chomp some more
[roll5] bite damage
[roll6] trip attempt if he lands a hit

(As a precaution I'll give you my next action unless something drastic happens.)
Neran hold his hands to the side with clenched fists tensing all the muscles in his body. He slowly raises his arms into the air calling the power of the Earth into himself. He muscles visibly bulge as he does this. He then takes a 5 foot step forward. (casting Bull's Strength)

Kian join's his master by hoping back 5 feet. They both await the monster's next attack. Kian will go full defensive.

[Quietus]

Unfortunately for Neran, his shot fires wide, illuminating another path of red and blasting apart some low-lying plants in the distance. Kian, too, seems to have some difficulties, almost managing to get hold of the shadowy creature, only to have it jerk its foot out of the way at the last second, leaving the wolf's teeth snapping shut over thin air.

Kian, however, is not quite so lucky; the beast takes advantage of the missed bite, and delivers one of its own, shadowy teeth sinking into the back of the wolf's neck as it growls in unearthly tones. Its barbed tail whips through the air toward the canine, but Kian manages to dodge it once more. This time, the movement of the attacking head doesn't disrupt that of the second, and its second set of teeth find purchase in the arrow, snapping shut and breaking it in two. The area is immediately darkened once more, illuminated only by Salamander's Dancing Lights. No longer hindered by the glowing arrow, the creature's reptilian form begins to waver once more.

Arrow is gone, miss chance is back in place. Kian takes 9 points of damage, but dodges the tail; Also, yes, the forum die roller seems to be hating on you guys pretty hard lately. Maybe you'll be more lucky this time around... or maybe not, since so far I don't think even one of you has failed the % miss chance vs. this thing?

[Dexam]

Maintaining his discipline as best he can, Salamander plants his sword point-first into the soft earth and snatches up his recurve longbow and quiver.

"Cormac - got any more of those magical light spells?" he asks the cloaked figure standing slightly in front of him.

Nocking an arrow to the bow string, he draws back until it reaches his scaly cheek. Salamander exhales as he releases, forced to aim high to avoid striking the snarling, snapping wolf that is the only thing keeping their attacker from reaching them.

Actions:
Free: drop greatsword.
Move: pick up longbow.
Standard: shoot at creature (includes -4 for firing into melee)
Miss chance: [roll0]
Attack: [roll1]
Damage: [roll2]

[arguskos]

"Of course." Cormac mutters, and touches the arrow on Salamander's bowstring just before he fires.

Action:

Standard: Cast black candle for the light version on Salamander's arrow.

[Quietus]

Once again, Cormac puts light to an arrow before it's fired, the glowing projectile leaving a momentary streak through the night as Salamander releases it on its flight. That flight, however, is quite off, as his wounds give him a sudden twist of pain, and the arrow sails high. You can all hear the sound of it flying past or through the leaves above, before embedding itself in a tree some distance ahead.


Beastie
Salamander
Cormac
Neran

[Cyrix]

(As a precaution I'll give you my next action unless something drastic happens.)
Neran hold his hands to the side with clenched fists tensing all the muscles in his body. He slowly raises his arms into the air calling the power of the Earth into himself. He muscles visibly bulge as he does this. He then takes a 5 foot step forward. (casting Bull's Strength)

Kian join's his master by hoping back 5 feet. They both await the monster's next attack. Kian will go full defensive.

[Quietus]

As Kian retreats, the shadowy beast lunges forward to match his steps, both heads snapping and tail whipping through the air toward the wolf. Growling his warning, Kian manages to watch his flank, and though the creature does manage to catch him with one set of teeth and a lash of its barbed tail, both are mostly grazing blows, unable to find solid purchase. While the wolf and shadowy creature circle one another, Neran bolsters his strength, filling his body with the heavy and powerful energy of Earth.

Kian got lucky there.. thankfully. This has turned out to be a bit more difficult a fight than I'd planned, but to be fair, when it started, there was another PC kicking around. Kian takes hits for 3 and 2, so 5 damage total.

Dusk beast
Neran
Salamander
Cormac

[arguskos]

Cormac mutters, and fires into the breach once more, hoping to strike true for once.

Actions:

Standard: Cast arrow of dusk.


Rolls:

Arrow of dusk: [roll0] ranged touch
Damage: [roll1] nonlethal

[Quietus]

The beast remains locked in combat with Kian, its two heads attempting to distract the wolf, and Cormac in turn taking advantage of its own lack of attention. As the two circle, Cormac's frustration takes the form of a bolt of darkness, once again defying logic as it sails into the illumination of Salamander's Dancing Lights spell to collide against shadowy hide. There is no sound of collision, no clear impact, as the spell seems to be absorbed into the creature. The result, however, is quite obvious, as it immediately collapses into a heap on the ground, the heavy whump as it falls in direct contradiction to its half-not-there appearance.

[Dexam]

"Nice shot, Cormac" Salamander compliments the mage, as the shadow beast collapses. Discarding his bow and quiver, the dragonblood gathers up his sword and warily approaches the creature, on the alert in case this is just a trick. His Dancing Lights are sent to hover just above each of its heads, tempting the creature to attack the red-glowing orbs.

Actions:
Free: drop bow and quiver.
Free: direct Dancing Lights.
Move: pick up greatsword.
Move: move towards the creature.

[arguskos]

Cormac moves forwards, speaking another set of words as he does. This time, the ghostly dagger forms in his right hand as he walks. He kneels before the beast's prone form, and feels for its flesh with one hand, raising his right hand, ready to plunge the dagger into its chest, and hopefully its heart.
"It is not dead, merely disabled for a time. If you've no objections, I'll end its life in a fitting fashion." He speaks over his shoulder to the druid and warrior, without malice or hate, merely an explanation.

Actions:

Move: Walk over to it, kneel.
Standard: Cast ghostly blade.
Free: Yak.

[Quietus]

The creature makes no attempt to attack the glowing orbs, remaining still as it lays unconscious on the forest floor. The proximity of the lights chases away much of the shadows around the creature, and throws Cormac's face into sharp relief when he kneels near the beast. When Cormac lays his hand upon its side, he can feel the soft rise and fall of its breath, and the strange, unnatural coolness of its skin. Many would find the effect quite unnerving, as the creature remains translucent even under the close effect of the Dancing Lights; Cormac's fingers tell him the creature is 100% solid, while his eyes insist his hand should be going straight through it.

[Cyrix]

Neran nods to Cormac, slightly disappointed in wasting his spell but duly glad this creature is dead.

(Crap I forgot to put ranks in heal, I'm so used to playing that heal was part of survival. I'll have to snag it next level.)

Neran turns his attention to Kian and does what he can to comfort the animal and patch up his wounds.
[roll0]

"I'll be sure to ask for some healing magic tomorrow morning. I'm no good at the real stuff."

[Dexam]

Salamander prods at the downed creature with a scaled, clawed toe. "Bah!" he exclaims. "I'd like to put the creature out of my misery for what it did to me, but if you want to finish it, just make sure it's properly dead." Wincing in pain, the dragonblood limps off to gather up his scattered bow and arrows. After throwing some more wood on the fire, he pulls out a scrap of cloth to clean down his weapons; and only after that is complete does he retrieve some clean bandages from his pack to bind his wounds.

[arguskos]

Cormac closes his eyes, and uses touch exclusively to feel around for its heart. Upon finding it in the creature's chest, he raises the dagger high, his eyes still closed. "Ghera, I commend this soul to your domain. May you treat it well." The dagger comes down, and pierces the creature's breast, and its breathing stops sharply. Cormac waits for it to finally expire, then whispers a prayer in Xilian to guide the spirit to the next world.

The mage stands, and walks back to the campfire. "It is done, the creature is at peace." He sits with the others, and resumes his writing as the dagger evaporates into thin air.

[Quietus]

With the thrust of Cormac's dagger, the creature's life is ended, the slow rise and fall of its breath beneath his fingers shuddering to a halt. The forest around you all is deadly quiet after the growling chaos of the fight, the only sounds heard being those that you make yourselves. Salamander binds his wounds, and though he can still feel them pulling, the worst of it seems to have been handled between the bandage and the potion. Likewise, Neran sees to Kian, who seems a little shaky after spending that much time so close to a creature that clearly made no sense to him. The tending of his wounds and Neran's presence quickly calms him, however.

Eventually, Salamander's Dancing Lights wink out, their time having expired, unless he keeps them active - the fire still burns, casting its own halo of light into the forest, but after encountering that creature, the shadows seem deeper, and the silence of the night more piercing.

Gonna give a short period here to see if you guys have any interest in discussion after that; If not, I'll move things along into the morning. Also, Cyrix, I might not be averse to you swapping a few skill points around if you feel the need, just run any changes by me before you make them.

[Cyrix]

(Lets try this again)

I'll rearrange my skills whenever we level up. Hopefully I'll remember.)

Neran finishes comforting and patching up Kian and puts him to sleep near the fire. He ventures over to the corpse of the strange creature and begins to examine it. He begins to skin the creature trying to figure out what exactly gives this creature it's strange properties. He is familiar with organs and the like and can't think of any that can do something as interesting as this. If the creature's insides are as tenebrous(1,000,000 dollar word right there :smallcool:) as the creature outsides, he'll feel around and take an inventory of the things insides. He'll look for anything out of place or "extra" and while doing so he'll try and sneak a bit of the creature's flesh to see if it tastes any good. If he does find any organs of interest he'll take a small bite of it to see if it has any disgusting liquids inside or anything that might harm him. If he thinks it's save to eat he'll do so raw. As a final step Neran will cut out one of the beast's shadowy canine teeth and hang it on his antlers. If the creature's hide retain's it's shadowy properties Neran will take it along with him to the camp fire.

Neran returns to the camp and casts Create Water into a small bowl and cleans himself off. He'll hang the creature's hide near the fire to cure it if applicable. As he gets ready to head off the sleep his curiosity overcomes his social shortcomings and asks some questions. "What was that thing? Is it common? Are there anything else like it? Like a shadow horse, or bear, or deer? Where do they come from...?" Neran notices that his reserved veneer has been worn away and stops his questions in an embarrassed silence. He recomposes his self and quietly listens to anyone's answer. He nods to whom ever it is and says "I think I've been in the woods too long. Perhaps if the opportunity presents itself I should purchase some books."

Some rolls:
[roll0] Survival (for the dissection)
[roll1] Knowledge: Nature (for the dissection)
[roll2] Survival (Organ safe to eat?)
[roll3] Knowledge: Nature (Organ safe to eat?)
[roll4] Survival (Removing the tooth)
[roll5] Craft (Drilling a hold in tooth to hang from antlers)
[roll6] Survival (curing the hide)
[roll7] Craft (curing the hide)

Er yeah, sorry for all the rolls, use what you need.

[Quietus]

As you dissect the creature, you note several things - to the touch, it seems no less solid than any common creature. In fact, once you get past its leathery hide, the insides seem to be perfectly normal. At least, as normal as one gets for a creature with two heads. Any small changes you note seem related to that, more than its odd shadowy hide; slightly larger heart and lungs, extra bone and muscle, but no unusual organs or anything like that. Its insides seem remarkably similar to any regular large lizard, all things considered, aside from the fact that they lack the thick, cloying scent you're used to encountering when cutting open a fallen beast.

Judging that it seems safe to eat, you cut away a slice of its flesh and taste it - it's incredibly bland, having almost no flavor at all, and the sensation of chewing on something you can barely taste is an odd one. When you swallow, it flows down your throat like ice water, sending a chill down your spine. The internal organs, however, taste pretty much how you would expect, though they too have weakened flavor.

Once you have the beast stripped of its hide, you find that it does maintain that shadowy effect, on the outside at least. The inside remains solid and meaty, though you clean it off as best you can before treating it so that it's ready for tanning. It would take a skilled craftsman to craft it into something, but if it continues to retain its properties, the hide may prove useful.

After some time spent blowing off steam around the campfire, the group of you settles back into the night's watch rotation, resting up for the day to come. The rest of the night passes uneventfully, but when you wake, you find that both Iladros and Reegrim have vanished into the night - notes have been left explaining that nothing got to them, that they just had to go see to other things, but to not expect them back. The sounds of the forest have returned sometime during the night, and around you you can hear the soft twitter of birds, the sound of animals brushing past leaves, and bugs buzzing and chirping beneath the undergrowth. The canopy above, however, provides heavy shade, limiting sight somewhat. It could be much worse, but the thick covering of leaves provides shade for Cormac's eyes, and if it weren't for the fact that the trees cover anything you might see in the distance anyway, the lack of light would make vision difficult at long distances.

Should Iladros reappear sometime within the next couple days, assume that his note simply said "I'm off getting breakfast" or something to that effect. Also, I just want to mention that I'm not trying to snub your roleplay there Cyrix, but I'd like to move things forward a bit - you guys can feel free to "post into the past" as needed for any conversation had around the campfire if you like, I won't be making anything event-wise happen during the night.

Oh yes - 1,000 exp for each of you, for various combations of combat, roleplay, interesting use of class abilities, and general patience with me while I buggered off to spend time with my girlfriend. The hide is counted as 1,000 GP worth of treasure, which can either be sold off if you hit a major town or used as its value worth of raw materials in a magic item. As it stands, it's a shadowy hide, and thus a blank slate for creativity.

[Cyrix]

(Its fine, I understand)

Neran awakes in the morning and begins his ritual supplication for some healing magic to aid his companions. He walks over to Kian and channels some healing energy into him. He then tentatively approaches Salamander "I know you were injuries last night and I was wondering if you would like me to attempt to heal you?" With Salamander's permission Neran places his hands on the man and channels the last of his prepared healing. "I hope that helps."

Neran heads over to the beast's hide. Satisfied with his work, he rolls it up and tucks it in his pack. He gathers up the rest of his belongings and gets ready to travel further onward.

(You did say that Cure Minor only works at below 0 right?)
[roll0] (Kian)
[roll1] (Kian)
[roll2] (Salamander)

[arguskos]

Cormac wakes with the sunrise, attuned to the day/night cycle like few others. He steps away from the others after perusing the notes from Reegrim and Iladros, mentally dismissing them as a wash and a shame, respectively. He liked the bowman.

He finds a slightly sunnier spot under the trees and pulls out the polished and tarnished silver disc. He stands it on end in the sun, burying the tarnished half in the dirt so that only the polished silver half can be seen. He knees before the half-circle and prays in Xilian. <Kutha, mistress of creation, source of the dichotomy, forgive your servant's trespass. I failed to show you the proper respect, and for that, you have punished me with the shadow beast from Ghera's realm. Please, Kutha, forgive my mistake. I commend a shadow and a light to your hands, as reparation.> He reaches into the soil he excavated to bury the holy symbol, and finds a pair of small rocks. Upon them he casts black candle, once for light and once for darkness. Cormac removes the holy symbol from the ground, and places the enspelled rocks in its place, and fills in the hole with dirt. <May your gaze ever fall upon the foes of Xil and never upon this faithful servant.> Cormac stands, his prayer done, and walks back to Salamander and Neran, just in time to see Neran examining the hide before stowing it. He calls to the druid, "Neran, may I examine the creature's hide? I am curious if its light-bending properties can be preserved, and perhaps enhanced."

[Quietus]

((I'm going to assume that Neran will probably acquiesce, but for the moment, I'll make things interesting - care to roll a Knowledge Arcana check while we wait for his reply?

Oh, and yes - Cure Minor can bring a person up to 1 HP, but it's first aid, not total healing, so you can't use it to rise above that.))

[arguskos]

OOC:

((I'm going to assume that Neran will probably acquiesce, but for the moment, I'll make things interesting - care to roll a Knowledge Arcana check while we wait for his reply?))
I actually was going to experiment with it and spells/mysteries, but sure, I'll throw a few skill checks at it as well.

Knowledge (arcana): [roll0]
Spellcraft (to see if Cormac knows what spells/mysteries he currently possesses might be of relevance to the hide): [roll1]
^^^Seriously? :smallsigh: I have a +10 to both skills, and I roll no higher than a 7? Really, RNG, really?

Also, if you're curious, I was going to experiment with black candle, caul of shadows, silent portal (never know), resistance, and ghost sound, just to begin with.

[Cyrix]

"Of course, you help fell the beast so you are to have your appropriate share of the kill. I had not thought of anything to do with it and figured I would simply preserve it for the group."

Neran takes the hide out of his pack and hands it over to Cormac.

[Quietus]

I'm not sure where Silent Portal comes from, but I'm assuming it does exactly what it says on the tin. I'ma run with that assumption until corrected otherwise.

Given some time with the hide, Cormac tests various spells on it, flooding it with small amounts of magical power from his at-will abilities. His arcane spells have pretty much the expected results; Silent Portal does nothing, Ghost Sound simply makes whatever noises he summons in the general area, and Resistance temporarily makes the hide more resilient.

It's the Mysteries that are most interesting, however, as with each one he casts on the hide, he can feel the hide exerting just the barest pull on the power being provided. Caul of Shadows works just the same as always, and the darkness cast by Black Candle makes it actually seem much more natural, as the lighting around it matches its own shadowy nature. Black Candle's light effect, however, is where he gets the greatest clue to the hide's nature, as its effect is dulled, the glow of the spell is dulled when cast on the hide, cut to half its normal lit radius. Scouring his mind, the only other time he's found such an effect is in Xil, when [light] effects were applied to objects crafted from raw shadowstuff.

[Dexam]

He then tentatively approaches Salamander "I know you were injuries last night and I was wondering if you would like me to attempt to heal you?" With Salamander's permission Neran places his hands on the man and channels the last of his prepared healing. "I hope that helps."

"Neran, I'll be more than happy to accept any healing you have." Salamander replies. "That damned beast near-hit the artery in my leg. An inch higher and I coulda bled out everywhere." The dragonblood sighs with relief as the druid's healing magic flows through him. "Artcus be praised, that feels better." Salamander undoes the bindings on his leg to reveal a massive bite mark that appears newly healed-over. "Well, I'm not 100%, but I'm not about to be knocked flat by some goblin's granny with her walking stick."

Before a cold breakfast, the ex-mercenary undergoes his morning exercise ritual: a grueling series of push-ups, chin-ups, sit-ups, stretches, and most frequent - weapon stances. Throughout this he favours the wounded leg, fearing to break open the wound. The only thing he neglects in his exercise regime is his morning run.

[arguskos]

Cormac's experiments concluded, the mage steps back from where he's sprawled the hide out, fiddling with bits and pieces of it. He then takes out a length of heavy twine, and runs the thread through a series of small holes he's poked along one edge of the hide, functionally fashioning a makeshift cloak of sorts out of the hide, rough and uncontrolled of course, since Cormac's hardly a seamsman, but enough to drape over a shoulder or two. He hefts it up and onto his right shoulder, and then turns to Salamander as the mystic warrior finishes his morning routine. "Salamander, I have need your assistance for a moment, if you'd be so kind. If you would please blunt an arrow that I have enchanted with a black candle for brilliance, I'd be most appreciative."

[Dexam]

Chewing on the last of the cold cooked dinosaur meat that makes up the majority of his breakfast, Salamander wanders over to investigate when Cormac speaks. "Sure, I can help. But what're you doing?" He looks quizzically at the mage. "When you say 'blunt an arrow', do want me to dull the point and edge, or remove the head entirely?"

"Speaking of asking for assistance..." Salamander looks around at the surrounding forest. "Hey Neran, you any good at following animal tracks and the like? I'm thinking that if that beastie was territorial it might have attacked other travellers, and if we can find its lair we might be able to salvage something useful from the remains. Can you have a look and see if you can find out where it came from?" He concentrates for a moment. "Though with that little escape trick it pulled last night, it might make things a bit more difficult."

[arguskos]

"I don't know enough to tell you how to blunt an arrow. Just make it so it doesn't hurt when fired. Then, fire it at the hide on my shoulder, to test the hide's resilience."

[Dexam]

Salamander shrugs. "I can blunt an arrow and shoot it at you, but that don't mean it won't hurt. You can't get much blunter than a sling bullet but that hurts like a bastard if you get hit - and believe me, I speak from experience. A fowling blunt is what you're after, but I don't have any on me."

That said, the dragonblood draws an arrow from his quiver and using the coarsest face of his whetstone begins to dull the point and cutting edges on the broad arrowhead. Once he deems the arrow to be sufficiently non-lethal, he picks up his bow and nocks the now-blunted arrow to the string. Strolling across the campsite clearing so he is a reasonable distance from Cormac, he raises the bow and draws back on the string - though not to the full extent of the draw on the bow. "You ready?"

[arguskos]

Cormac casts a black candle spell on both the arrow (for light) and on the hide (for shadow). He then steps back, into a darkened section of the forest. "Fire at the hide over my shoulder, and let us see what the hide retains."

[Dexam]

Fighting years of training and having to remind himself not to aim for anything vital, Salamander draws a bead on the shadow-lizard hide on Cormac's shoulder and releases the bowstring.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage (non-lethal): [roll1] (note: I'm not adding the +2 for mighty composite because the bow isn't drawn all the way back)

[Quietus]

The blunted arrow whizzes through the air, its flight path a little more erratic than Salamander is used to, given the blunting of its head. It still flies true, however, and Cormac can feel the thud of its impact against his skin, lessened by the hide's presence - it's comparable to the feeling of being struck while wearing a light leather armor, though the hide would need to be worked in order to be comfortably worn in such a manner. The two castings of Black Candle cancel each other out where they overlap, but the more interesting thing of note is the feeling the hide generates against Cormac's skin where the arrow impacts; a sensation that strongly reminds him of home, of being among the sculpted shadow walls of Xil.

[arguskos]

"Hmm. Curious. Thank you, Salamander. Neran, I will need to experiment with this further." Cormac takes off the hide, dethreads it, and rolls it up quickly and deftly, stowing it in his pack. "Apologies for the delay. Let us travel again. We have somewhere to be." Cormac makes ready to go, the delay completed.

Internally, he ponders the ramifications of finding such a material and such a creature here, in this godless and forsaken land. Vethedar has proven to be a land without culture or sophistication, which begs the question of what is such a dusky creature doing here? The data admits of no solution, but Cormac sees enough to take a guess. Perhaps, perhaps, such a creature was placed here, awaiting him, or the others. But who, and why, are harder to answer. The answers, along with the plan, awaited at the end of the road, which seemed to be pointing to Vaeles.

[Cyrix]

(Wow I stopped receiving e-mails on thread updates, what the hell?)

Neran simples nods and head off towards their destination.

[Quietus]

((Sorry about the delay, guys... got sick and that put me solidly on my ass for a while. Back to our regularly scheduled program!))

The group of you gather up camp, the process slightly slower without the assistance of Iladros and Reegrim, but not too badly so - they both seem to have picked up all of their belongings before taking off, leaving no trace behind. As you leave your camping spot, you notice the carcass of the fallen lizard, and that it seems oddly untouched by scavengers through the night.

The trek through the forest is slower, the plants grabbing at Cormac and Salamander's feet. Neran, however, seems free of such issues, stepping through the undergrowth as easily as across open ground. As you travel, all three of you catch a flash of movement off to your right, a humanoid shape flashing between tree trunks in the forest's shadows.

Cormac :
You seem to be the only one that gets a clear view of the individual; A human, armed with a bow, seems to have been trailing the party for some distance, and finally grew just close enough for you to see him when he got a bit too overconfident.

[arguskos]

Cormac, writing as he walks, has little true difficulty with the underbrush, it serving more to slow than truly impede. Upon sighting the figure, he makes one more note in his journal then stores it in the nether from whence it comes. "It seems we have company, of the hunters type." He speaks quietly, but with determination, attempting to keep his statement from the trailing marksman.

[Dexam]

Salamander had recommended taking the trade roads, crude as they are, over a journey through the forest trails. Now, treking through the undergrowth, he's reminded exactly why he had that preference in the first place. Twigs and leaves crunch underfoot, creeping vines tangle themselves around his boots, branches and brambles catch at his armour and cloak. I shoulda convinced the others against this... But, the majority vote had been in favour of the forest. Too late now.

At the flash of movement among the deep shadows cast by the trees, Salamander's hands drift towards his recurved longbow of wood, steel, and horn. "Hunters?" he murmurs at Cormac. "We're being stalked by more than one?" His eyes begin slowly scanning the terrain, looking for potential sites ambushers could spring from, or that could be used by them as defensive cover in the event of attack. He contemplates drawing his bow, but doesn't want to risk letting the follower or followers know they have been alerted to their presence.

[Cyrix]

Neran's first instinct is to bolt at the attack to try and startle it off. most predators will break off an attack if the prey knows that they are being stalked. His companions hesitance leads Neran to believe that such things would not work very well in this situation. He stays silent and tries his best to draw out one of his spears and faint using it as a walking stick to make it over some rough terrane.

[arguskos]

"It seems to be one. He has been trailing us for some time, and is growing bold. I recommend we punish him for it." Cormac hits upon an idea. "Do you have any stealth capability?"

Rolls:

Spot to find the guy again, though I doubt it's gonna work: [roll0]


OOC:

Oh, this one is good. You'll like this plan. The idea is that Cormac is going to use his surprisingly good Hide modifier (+8 without any focus in it at level 3 as a mage) to get into a dark corner, then use shattering image to totally abuse this poor guy. Of course, it's best if Salamander and Neran can do something along the same lines to help out. The idea is to freak him out then take him down swiftly, so we can find out who he is and what he's doing chasing us.

[Quietus]

As Salamander's tactical mind goes to work, he realizes the bad situation you're in; The forest is thick with trees to provide cover and hide behind, and clumps of bushes only make that worse. Anyone who isn't completely tied down to one spot would generally be able to find cover with a small amount of tactical repositioning, and you find yourself hoping that Cormac's judgement of the situation and the single pursuer is valid. Out here in the wild, hiding would be fairly easy. While you're thinking this over, you notice Neran readying his spear, the reason behind it obvious to you, though he does a passable job of playing it off as being used as a walking stick.

Cormac :
The hunter seems to have backed off somewhat, for now. For a moment, he turns his attention away from the party, and you see him manipulating something with one hand - a small object, probably metal from the silvery sheen of it. Placing the object back in a pouch at his side, he resumes his careful watch of your party.

[Dexam]

"It seems to be one. He has been trailing us for some time, and is growing bold. I recommend we punish him for it." Cormac hits upon an idea. "Do you have any stealth capability?"

Salamander makes a show of stopping to take a drink from his waterskin, then scanning the terrain ahead as if deciding which is the best path to take.
"It's not exactly my strong point" he replies in a voice hopefully low enough that only Cormac and Neran can hear him. "Though if you're thinking of ambushing our follower, it shouldn't be too difficult for them to lose us for a few seconds in that mess." Salamander gestures towards some of the slightly denser brush. "That way, I think" he says in a slightly louder voice.

[arguskos]

"Ah, yes. That way. Would you take point, please?" Cormac gestures to Neran, for him to guide the way into the brush, and falls in line directly behind him, hoping Salamander gets the message and takes the rear. He then whispers quietly, "I will slip away, if I can, and will hopefully ambush the ambusher."

Rolls:

Spot (keeping an eye on our friend): [roll0]
Hide (to vanish into the darker deeper brush while walking through it, if possible; if not possible, I likely don't do this): [roll1]

[Cyrix]

Neran takes point and uses his spear to push you a low branch over some bushes. He hopes this facilitates Cormac's disappearance in the guise of his moving the branch to help his companion.

[Dexam]

The large dragonblood moves into a position to hopefully block the view of their observer as Cormac slips away into the shadows of the undergrowth. He then follows Neran and Kian along the forest trail, making no attempt to conceal himself and thereby distract the follower from realising that one of the party is missing. With his back to the last place he noticed movement, Salamander surreptiously reaches beneath his cloak and draws his dagger, keeping it concealed within the folds of his garments. He also summons to mind the dark powers of his curse, ready to call down upon the follower.

[Quietus]

As the group of you head into the darker bush, Cormac manages to catch sight of the hunter with his attention distracted once more, and vanishes as best he can. However, this leaves Neran and Salamander in the unpleasant situation of not knowing where the potential trouble is coming from, since Cormac appears to have vanished completely into the shadows provided. The forest abruptly seems much quieter and more dangerous than it had been a moment ago, knowing that something is out there, but that you can't see where it is.

Cormac :
From your hidden position, you can see the hunter finish whatever he was doing, and begin heading in your party's direction, bow at the ready. He seems aware that something is up, as he casts his gaze about, but seems unable to find whatever it is he's looking for - probably you. I'm going to give you one turn's worth of actions to set yourself up before he's close enough to interact with the party.

[arguskos]

As Cormac manages to slip away, he whispers to Salamander, "We want him alive, use prudence."

In the shadows, Cormac stands stock still. He pulls out a scroll, twisting his ring as he does. The familiar steel shadows spring into being, and Cormac awaits his chance.

Actions:

Move: Pull out scroll of puppet strings.
Standard: Activate magering of steel shadows. Cormac gains +3 armor and +3 shield to AC, and it doesn't interfere with my Hide checks.


Rolls:

Spot: [roll0] Keeping tabs on our friend. Was I really the only guy who took ranks in Spot? :smallconfused:

Notably, I don't actually move, so I think I don't need another Hide check. If you'd like one, I'd be happy to provide one though. :smallsmile:

Let's hope this plan works. *crosses fingers* As day9 jokingly says in Starcraft 2, "hope based play, just hope it works".

[Dexam]

As Cormac manages to slip away, he whispers to Salamander, "We want him alive, use prudence."

Salamander merely rolls his eyes at this remark. If he wanted the follower dead, he wouldn't be bringing a dagger to a sword fight, would he?

The dragonblood walks several more paces, then stops as if halted by some particularly difficult vegetation. He looks around, pretending to find an easier path, but actually trying to locate any sign of the mysterious follower.

Actions/rolls:
Bluff: [roll0]
Spot: [roll1]
Listen: [roll2]

Salamander intends to wait until Cormac acts out whatever he has planned, then hit the follower with his Hexblade's Curse and, if possible, crash-tackle them (i.e. move & grapple).

[Quietus]

With Cormac hidden, and both Salamander and Neran armed for battle, a tenseness hangs in the air, waiting for someone to make a move. Finally, it's the hunter that breaks the silence, stepping out from behind a tree overgrown with moss about 50 feet away, bow and arrow in hand, but not aimed against the party yet. His studded leather armor is dyed in mottled green to help blend in with the forest, and smudges of dirt dot his face. "You folk seem fairly lost. What're you wandering about this forest for, don't you know it's a dangerous place to be?"

[arguskos]

Cormac, surprised at the strangers actions, holds off from engaging quite yet, more interested in observing the hunters next move. He contemplates the potential for the hunter to be benign, but dismises the notion on the grounds that nothing in this civilization forsaken hell is without dark intent or darker deed. He keeps his scroll at the ready, however, in case of the inevitable treachery.

[Cyrix]

"I am at home in the wilderness and we have been headed in the direction that was ascribed for us to head in. I thank you for your concern though." Neran looks down to Kian to see if the animal's instincts have been piqued at all in reaction to this new person.

[Quietus]

"Direction ascribed.. well. You're a lot more learned than your looks would suggest, aren't you? Well, I'm certainly going to to try and stop you, but I recommend you watch your step. Nasty creatures roam these woods, wouldn't want you two to run into trouble - could've sworn I saw three, before..", he says, muttering that last. While he speaks, Neran takes a moment to note Kian's situation, finding the wolf on edge, picking up on the energy that had been going on among the group of you, but remaining close by regardless.

[arguskos]

Cormac continues to watch the exchange, alert for any misdeed on the intruder's part.


Spot: [roll0] Looking to see if he's got any tricks running, or if he's being a sneaky bastard in any way at all. I'm especially looking to see if I can catch what that metallic object was.

[Quietus]

Cormac :
As it stands now, you see nothing out of place - a wary hunter keeping a distance, probably smartly, from two armed individuals, a wolf, and someone he thought he saw but can no longer find. Looking for the object from earlier, however, you can see the large pouch it was placed into at his side, with a metal handle sticking out, as if the entire object doesn't fit. From the way the bag hangs, you can guess that the whole thing is rather narrow, and probably has some weight to it, with a roughly oval shape below the handle.

[arguskos]

Quietus:

Are there other visible weapons on this individual's person? Such as, say, a sword or axe? Anything visible such as a holy symbol, anything else strange or seemingly out of place on a woodland hunter? We can use that 15 for such things.

[Quietus]

Not out of place, no - a couple hunting daggers, his quiver, his almost-but-not-quite camouflage armor. A couple pouches, like someone would carry for coin. No backpack or anything like that, so most of what he's carrying, you can see pretty clearly.

[arguskos]

Cormac thinks on the results of his quiet spying, then resolves to continue with his prior plan: waiting for him, and his likely, yet unseen, companions, to make the first move.

[Cyrix]

Neran pauses for a moment to let someone else act. He doesn't want to do or say anything that might get the party in trouble. He hasn't had any experience with cold standoffs.

"We've already encounter a strange shadow beast which we were able to handle fine..." He says obviously feeling awkward at the strangers presence.

[Dexam]

"You folk seem fairly lost. What're you wandering about this forest for, don't you know it's a dangerous place to be?"

Salamander steps forward, eyes scanning the undergrowth for signs of potential ambush. "We might be askin' the same questions to you, stranger," he says coldly. "Coming up on us unannounced, carrying weapons." Salamander nods at the bow and arrow in the hunter's hands. "That kind of behaviour can lead to all sorts of... unpleasant misunderstandings, in such a dangerous place." Dagger still concealed within the folds of his cloak, the dragonblood twitches the cloak aside to reveal his weapons and armour, emphasising his point. He stares at the hunter, eyes narrowed, his expression menacing.

[Quietus]

"You seem like a fairly experienced warrior, would you wander about dangerous woods without your weapons ready, or at least near at hand?" Placing his arrow back into his quiver, he rests his bow, though remains alert. "As to your question - I'm well aware how dangerous this forest is. That's in part why I'm here. You say you encountered a shadow beast? Where was this, and how did you drive it off? Anything you can tell me about it would be very helpful."

[Dexam]

"No, I wouldn't." Relaxing slightly, Salamander slides his dagger back into its sheath. "But then again, I don't go sneaking up on people, weapons in hand, unless I mean them harm." He sneers unpleasantly. "There's plenty o' people in the world who wouldna given you the benefit of the doubt like we did. Consider yourself lucky. As for the shadow beast..." Salamander shrugs. "As my friend here said, we handled it fine. Left it dead in a small hollow a couple of hours walk back down this trail. Why do you care? Are you some kinda warden or ranger?"

[Quietus]

"Something like that, yes. I keep an eye out for .. undesirables in these woods. Vaeles has some logging operations in this forest, and we wouldn't want things like that shadow beast to creep up on them, do we? Interesting to hear that you've ended the beast, though - that's one less threat for me to track, I suppose." He looks uncomfortable as he stows his bow, as if he prefers to keep it at hand in the face of unknown individuals, but is attempting to show some goodwill. "You're right, of course, that I shouldn't be sneaking up on people while armed, but you'll have to forgive me for that. I've been out here quite a while, you see, and with things such as that shadow beast hanging around, one can never be too careful."

OOC - If anyone passes a DC 15 Sense Motive check, they can open this spoiler :
While the hunter speaks of the Vaeles logging operations, you don't hear any sort of attachment to them, like you might expect from someone charged with protecting them.

[arguskos]

Cormac decides that revealing himself is perhaps wise, now that the hunter is unarmed and will be flanked by the party, should he suddenly become hostile. He replaces the scroll, but produces his ghostly blade as he fades back into view from behind the hunter, and speaks quietly and without malice. "Don't be alarmed by our presence here. We can handle ourselves. Apologies for the sudden disappearance and reappearance, but we were unsure of your intentions. I am Cormac, and these are my companions."

Roll:

Sense Motive: [roll0] Ok, I don't get to read the spoiler. Should reveal myself anyways.
Yaaaay negative wisdom. :smalltongue:

[Dexam]

Salamander relaxes a little more when the mysterious hunter stows his bow, but he still remains wary. "I don't know if we're undesirables..." he grins, showing pointed teeth. "Just some travellers, passing through. So, a logging operation huh? Is there a logger's camp in the direction we're heading? Maybe we can stop by and replenish our supplies." He nods at Cormac as the mage reveals himself. "I suppose some introduction is in order. Y'can call me Salamander."

Rolls:
Sense Motive: [roll0]
Yay dumb luck :smalltongue: *reads*
Hrmm...

[Quietus]

The hunter jumps, startled at Cormac's presence, and his hand reflexively going back to his bow. There's a moment where he fights with himself, his hand hovering over it, before he grimaces and forces himself to accept Cormac's words. "I suppose, so long as introductions are being made, you may call me Vincent. As to your question, Salamander, the logging camp would be off nearer to the Eastern edge of the forest, rather than here by the North. The best route would be to skirt the perimeter of the trees, as trying to take a straight line.. well, you folk seem to have handled the last encounter with that shadowy beast fairly well, but there's more - and worse - the deeper you go into this forest. I recommend, for your own good, avoiding such things."

[Cyrix]

"In what direction do you suggest we had then Vincent? That beast was undoubtedly unnatural and I doubt my connection with the wild would do us any good in avoiding having to fight another one. I have to save for the first time in a long while I am out of my element with these beasts.

[Quietus]

Apparently still unnerved, the hunter shifts his position, reasonably skittish about being flanked by three individuals and a wolf capable of taking down a creature like the one you fought the previous night. "Follow the outer edge of the forest, if you must remain within it at all. That should let you avoid the worst of the forest's dangers, particularly creatures such as that beast. As best as I have been able to gather, they despise the light, and tend to stay closer to the center of the forest. I have no idea why one would come out as far as it did."

DC 15 Sense Motive again :
The hunter seems to be telling the truth about the creature itself, but you get the feeling he's also trying to keep you away from the deeper parts of the forest for some reason.

[arguskos]

Cormac listens, and considers. On one hand, he has no desire to risk another such being. On the other, he'd dearly like to know from whence they come. Perhaps another time, with a stronger and more capable force. "Your advice is noted, ranger. We will likely heed it."

Rolls:

Sense Motive: [roll0]

[Dexam]

Salamander nods at the hunter's words. "Good advice there. It was probably hunting and caught our scent, or maybe it wanted to ambush one of the dinos out in the grasslands. " He shrugs, then looks at his travelling companions. "Unless anyone has any objections, I suggest we follow the advice. One of those things was bad enough - two or more could be... troubling."

Rolls:
Sense Motive: [roll0]

[Cyrix]

(Might as well)

[roll0]

(Holy crap I sensed the hell out of his motive all over the place!)

"What exactly is at the center of this forest? Perhaps some sort of dark curse has fallen on the forest? If so I know at least two people who be interested in such a thing." He gestures towards Cormac and him self. "Obviously for different reasons."

[Quietus]

His eyes narrowing, the hunter looks at Neran for several moments before answering. "As I said, these creatures despise the light. The deeper into this forest you go, the darker it becomes, and the more of those sorts of creature you will encounter. It seems your dragon-blooded friend here is of the opinion that another run-in with a shadowy beast is ill advised, and I would tend to agree." His tone suggests that he's growing irritated, and you notice that he's glancing around, as if realizing that he's been more focused on the group of you than on his surroundings, and is made nervous by that. "If you insist on going further into the forest, then the results of that are on your head - literally. I'm not here to protect random strangers whose curiosities are more powerful than their common sense."

[Cyrix]

(In Druidic)"It seems we must be wary of other people and their motivations. We have to remember people have much more then sex and food on they minds... some times anyway." he says mostly to Kian. He heads of in the direction that the ranger suggested.

[arguskos]

Cormac hears the exchange, and the druidic mutter, and wonders at the subtexts. He never was the best at understanding such things. A lifetime spent in training. Perhaps he should recommend that social training be added to the Xilian sleeper curriculum?

"As a parting note, hunter. Should you or yours wish to speak with us again, please do so directly. No more attempts to ambush us, if you'd please. It is... unappreciated." He subtly emphasizes the last word to get across his meaning, then steps around the ranger and follows closely to the druid, keeping a watchful eye on the surroundings and straying from the deeper shadows.

[Dexam]

Salamander's expression grows dangerous, and he glares at the hunter. "No need to get unfriendly, neighbour" he says in a cold, flat tone of voice. "You've given us some good advice, which we're going to follow. Likewise, we've give you some good advice... I strongly suggest that you follow it." The dragonblooded warrior follows his companions, but does not takes his eyes off Vincent until the forest obscures him from vision.

Once he's certain that they're well out of ear shot and not being followed, Salamander speaks to his companions in a low voice. "Mighty nervous about something, wasn't he?" he asks rhetorically. "And I don't think it was just those shadow beasts. Let's see if we can find this logger's camp - if it actually exists; but best be on guard in case it's a setup." With that, the ex-mercenary pushes on through the forest in a north-easterly direction.

[Cyrix]

Neran nods, "Might as well, he definitely wanted us to stay away from the center of the forest and I don't think it was for our safety."

[Quietus]

The hunter gives no verbal response to your various rebukes, simply shrugging lightly. While the three of you turn to leave, he heads in the opposite direction, eventually disappearing into the forest's shadows.

Closer to the edge of the forest, the shadows aren't as deep, but there is an ever-present shade that shields Cormac's eyes from the worst of the sun. An added benefit is that the trees aren't so close together here, so while you're still picking your way through some undergrowth, you have ample room for walking. Between that, and the occasional sound of the wind rustling through the grasses just beyond the forest's edge, the forest feels far less claustrophobic than it had before. Even so, every now and then one of you notices a flash of movement out of the corner of your eye; Most often, when you look over, it's simply a bird flitting from one branch to another, or a squirrel scampering up the trunk of a tree. Sometimes, though, you could swear that you saw something larger, but can't find where it went when you look for it.

The rest of the day is much the same, and the night is mostly uneventful; Neran and Kian chase off a small monstrous spider out looking for an easy meal while they're taking watch, but tonight, you find yourselves unaccosted by shadowy, unnatural creatures. Given what you know of the lay of the land, and the hunter's directions the previous day, it would be a safe guess that you should be nearing the location of the supposed logging camp by mid to late day today.

OOC :
I'm pausing here just to give you an opportunity to roleplay and speak amongst yourselves, before I push things along further. Also to try and buy myself a little time; Since I've heard nothing from the recruitment thread, I'm going to open a new one. High page counts can be intimidating.

Cormac and Neran :
At periods throughout your walk the previous day, you occasionally notice marks cut into the trees, scars in the aged bark. The marks resemble an X with hooked upper arms, and five parallel lines carved beneath them.

[Cyrix]

Neran sits down heavily on the ground near a downed log with a sigh. He is not used to the strain of social situations. He rests for a bit watching the other put up their tents and whatever else. He gets to his knees clears the ground around him of rocks and branches. That was enough of a bed for him.

Neran goes out and makes another set of noise makers around the camp. If it weren't for them the group might have no faired so well. This reminded him of something...

[roll0] Survival

... he makes his way back to camp. "Does anyone have any injuries that aren't fully healed? We don't know what we are going to run into tomorrow so we should be at our best. I should be able to take care of anything in the morning."

Neran takes out a bit of dino from his pack and gives most of it to Kian.

"Did anyone of you notice those strange markings on some of the trees? It was a strange cross mark with five bars underneath it. I used to use similar markings to find my way back to my camp if I got lost in the dark. My markings showed distance and direction. All these marks where the same though. Does anyone have any clue what they could mean?"

[arguskos]

Cormac is tired from the day's events, and somewhat disappointed that the hunter hadn't tested them. He was looking forward to proving his ability against something that could actually appreciate the skill. As the evening crept forward and Neran was busily setting more traps, he invoked the evening ritual to Ghera (in spoiler).
<Ghera, lord of the shadows, prince of the darkness in all men's hearts, I give voice to your name, and ask that you smile upon your faithful. Grant me your wisdom, show me the steps of the pathway, lead me to your blissful embrace, shield me from your sister, lest her glaring gaze burn my eyes away. To you, I am ever loyal, Ghera. To your power, I bow. To your mercy, I plead. To you, I am ever loyal, Ghera, master of all that moves in the dark.>

Once done, he returned to the camp, and withdrew a few strips of dried meat and his waterskin (actually full of a spiced liquor he found a few weeks ago and enjoyed the taste of quite a bit) and had a small dinner meal. When Neran returned, and put forth his question, Cormac responded.

"I noticed as well. Odd. I would expect that, if mapped, they would form a pattern or line of some kind. Likely, they are hunter's marks, to denote an area as hazardous or restricted." He shrugs. "I am still concerned as to the motives of our companion from earlier in the day, the hunter. You say that he wished us to remain from the depths for another reason. Curious indeed. We must return here sometime to explore the recesses."

[Dexam]

As Neran sets up his noise-makers and Cormac engages in his ritual, Salamander busies himself by clearing some space for a small fire pit and gathering firewood. While collecting dried wood, he scans the area and makes note of potential areas of concealment and paths that provide ease of approach (or escape, should the need arise). By the time the others return, a small fire is crackling and popping merrily, as flames dance along the dry branches.

The dragonblood makes a meal of reheated dino meat, trail rations, and water. Not the most tasty or filling of dinners, but nourishing and giving enough energy for the next day of marching. After his meal, he pulls out an oiled rag and starts wiping down his weapons.


"Does anyone have any injuries that aren't fully healed? We don't know what we are going to run into tomorrow so we should be at our best. I should be able to take care of anything in the morning."

Salamander nods slowly. "That leg wound o' mine from the shadow creature ain't fully right yet; and unless I get some healing magic or a couple'a days of solid rest, I won't be at full fitness for a half-week or so. I'd be grateful for any assistance, and I'll repay my debt to you at some point." The mercenary-turned-wanderer sounds like someone who takes his debts seriously.


"Did anyone of you notice those strange markings on some of the trees? It was a strange cross mark with five bars underneath it. I used to use similar markings to find my way back to my camp if I got lost in the dark. My markings showed distance and direction. All these marks where the same though. Does anyone have any clue what they could mean?"

"Markings?" Salamander frowns. "What markings?" Once again he feels slightly out of his depth in this terrain, and that the decision to travel away from the trade roads was a poor one. "I suppose they could be trail markers, or some kinda boundary markers." He ponders. "Or, if that hunter was telling the truth about the logging operations, they could be marking trees to fell. Were the marks on any particular types o' tree, or perhaps especially straight trees?" Salamander continues to wipe down his weapons, examining the blades in the flickering firelight.

[Quietus]

The process of setting up the noisemaking traps goes smoothly, and Neran finds himself pleased with the quality of his work once more. As he does so, he notices the telltale spoors of several animals, perhaps most notably the tracks of a small group of swindlespitter dinosaurs - small bipedal egg-eating scavengers, which sometimes mistake other small, roundish objects for their food, carrying them off and trying to tear them open. There's no tracks he can find belonging to large predators, however.

Back at camp, Salamander has the fire merrily crackling, bits of meat stuck over it on simple skewers to cook. All things considered, despite the oddness of the group of you being together, the sounds of the forest around you combine with the smell of cooking meat to suggest an enjoyable campout - though every now and then, shapes flit through the shadows deepening just beyond the firelight, reminding the three of you of the beast from the previous night, the hunter earlier, and the two companions who've taken off on their own since Lanestown. Most likely, however, they're just animals, nocturnal creatures coming out to hunt.

Cormac and Neran :
The trees marked weren't any particular type, but they all tended to be larger, sturdier ones, that wouldn't be too easily knocked over, as if the symbols were intended to remain there for some time. They had been fairly fresh, however; The trees hadn't had time to form bark over the markings, so they'd probably been put there sometime within the last year.

[Cyrix]

"If you have anything shaped like an egg please tuck it away in a pack. There is a group of egg-eaters around and we don't want to give them a reason to come into camp. My noise markers are mostly designed for larger things so most likely the only warning we'll have of them is a branch or some dead leaves. Luckily for us they'd rather run then fight."

Neran picks up a stick and draws the mark he had seen on some of the trees earlier that day in the dirt. He sits down and stares at it for a while trying to divine it's purpose.

[Dexam]

Salamander gives Neran an odd look when the druid mentions the egg eaters, then moves over to examine the mark Neran has reproduced in the dirt. He ponders the drawing for a moment, trying to recall if he has seen anything like it in his travels, then returns to the maintenance of his equipment. Shaking off his chain shirt with the gentle jingling of metal rings, Salamander begins to wipe the armour over with his oiled rag and picking out pieces of vegetation that may have got caught during the days' trek in the woods.

[arguskos]

Cormac watches quietly. He doesn't say anything, since there's nothing to say. He copies down much of the day's events in his journal, then makes ready for the evening.

[Quietus]

Even with the mark drawn in the ground before you, it appears no one has any further revelations about its purpose - it isn't innately familiar to any of you, nor does anything horrible try and jump out of it unexpectedly. In fact, the worst of the night is in the amount of work it takes Salamander to get all the bits of vegetation out of the chain links of his armor, a slow but necessary process.

By the time morning arrives, you can hear the whispering sound of a light rain across the tops of the trees above you, the leafy canopy protecting you from the worst of it for now. Every now and then you do feel a drop of water landing on your head, or down your back, but nothing quite so bad as you'd get if you were in the open. As the day wears onward, however, and the leaves above become heavier, the drops that fall down to your level become more common, and you can feel your clothes growing more damp from the regular drops hitting them, and from brushing past the wet plants that make up the forest floor.

By midday, the rain hasn't let up, but you begin to hear the sounds of work; The dull thud of an axe on wood, the rhythmic rasp of saws being used on larger trees, and the first murmurs of human voices. It isn't long afterward that you break into a clearing, the light rain pelting what appears to be the logging operation's main base of operations. Roughly a dozen tents of varying sizes have been set up to provide a place to rest after a day's work, but most of the bustle is at the treeline around you, heavily muscled men working to bring down trees, earning their days pay. A man wearing light leather armor over loose-fitting forest green clothes takes notice of the three of you standing there, walking toward you as he calls out, "Alright boys, hold a moment, we've got wanderers! Take a break!"

The sounds of work give way to distant chattering as the man approaches you, seeming to size the three of you up. You do make a rather unique group, with the antler-wearing Neran being the most human, but the green-clothed man only gives the briefest flash of concern as he walks over. Offering his hand to each of you in turn, he says, "Viggo Ante, overseer of this little operation. What brings you here, through the forest of all things? You're lucky you didn't catch a falling tree to the head.", his smile reassuring but with a hint of warning in his tone as well.

[Cyrix]

Neran rises a greats the day. While the others gather up their things he sets up a small ritual. He had asked from more healing powers in these two days then ever in his life and it was time it was paid back. Neran takes out his drinking bowl and places it in a bed of moss. He take's his skinning dagger and cuts a tiny slit in the vein in his left wrist. He lets the wound bleed until the small container begins to overflow with his blood. He seals the wound with a bit of sticky sap.

"That which I have borrowed I will now return." He says puring the blood in a rough circle on the moss. He picks up a clump of the moss and uses it like a sponge to soak up the blood that clings to his bowl. He places this clump in the center of the circle and casts create water on the whole thing soaking the blood into the ground.

(I put 1 damage on my character sheet)

Neran walks over to Salamander feelings just a little dizzy. "I will heal you now if you'd like." Assuming he agrees he places his hands on Salamander and channels his newly restored healing energies. He then walks over to Kian and does the same.

[roll0] Salamander
[roll1] Kian

Neran simply gives his name to the woodsman when he gives his. He is unsure of the exact plan the other had in mind. It would be better for him if he left the lying to the others. If that was what they intended anyway.

[Dexam]

Salamander begins the day with what the others will now recognise as his usual morning exercise ritual and equipment check before breakfast. The dragonblood seems to pay a great deal of attention to his physical condition, as well as his weapons and armor. As per the previous morning, he favours the injured leg, though the wound has already started to show as little more than two bite-mark shaped scars of lighter coloured ruddy scales.


Neran walks over to Salamander feelings just a little dizzy. "I will heal you now if you'd like." Assuming he agrees he places his hands on Salamander and channels his newly restored healing energies.
"Thank you." Salamander says as the healing power of the druid flows into him. "I will repay you some day."


The sounds of work give way to distant chattering as the man approaches you, seeming to size the three of you up. You do make a rather unique group, with the antler-wearing Neran being the most human, but the green-clothed man only gives the briefest flash of concern as he walks over. Offering his hand to each of you in turn, he says, "Viggo Ante, overseer of this little operation. What brings you here, through the forest of all things? You're lucky you didn't catch a falling tree to the head.", his smile reassuring but with a hint of warning in his tone as well.
Wiping away some of the light drizzle with the lining of his cloak, Salamander shakes the offered hand, but does not give his name. "Just travelling through, heading east. Our guide skedaddled on us, so we got a little turned around in the forest." The dragonblood pauses a moment to survey the campsite and the loggers. "We ran into a hunter yesterday, name of Vincent, says he works for you? He pointed us in your direction, and we was wondering if we could maybe trade for some supplies and what have you, before pressing on."

[arguskos]

The mage stands in the back under the leaves to avoid the sun, watching the loggers quietly. He wonders if they had legal right to log this forest, but reminds himself that these were barely civilized people, so such things likely didn't matter. Seeing the others interact, Cormac decides discretion is called for and stands back, letting Salamander take the lead. He does mutter a few quiet words, activating his caul of shadows, in case the barbarians decide to take offense to their presence.

[Quietus]

"Ah. Yes, I could see how you might get a bit turned around, being left without a guide. It's a lucky thing you made it through safely." While he talks, his hands fidget slightly, as though nervous, though nothing else about his demeanor suggests he would be.

"As to supplies, you're welcome to check with our quartermaster for what you need. I'm sure that if he has what you're looking for, you can work out a deal, but do be careful. Not all in this camp will be particularly welcoming to your kind, Dragonblood. Now, what's this you say about Vincent? He's been off work for several days - we work in cycles here, the men staying for two weeks, and going home for one. He should have been in Vaeles yesterday, not in the woods, and I can't imagine the man making a good hunter. Excellent logger, but he doesn't have the makings of a hunter. Too heavy-footed, you see. I wonder what he would be doing in the forest?"

[arguskos]

Hearing the overseer talk, and seeing him fidget, Cormac muses on the implications. Something is obviously bothering him, and Vincent was not entirely truthful, according to his companions anyways. Something is out of place here. Some facts are being neglected. It may be wise to pursue the matter further, though Cormac realizes he's not the best choice for such things.

He takes a look around at the logging operation, perhaps hoping to spy something that may provide a clue as to what is being missed here.

[Dexam]

Salamander sneers at the overseer's marks regarding his race. "Yeah, I get that a lot." His hands clench and unclench into fists. "I ain't staying long, but if any of your men feel like makin' trouble, I'm more than happy to oblige." He quickly scans the area to note if any of the loggers are blatantly eavesdropping, or staring with obvious ill intent.

"Well... ain't that interesting what you say about this 'Vincent'." The dragonblood's eyes narrow. "Do you have any hunters or rangers at all working for your camp? Cause the fella we ran into doesn't much match the description you give. Which means either him or you are lying to us..." Salamander's severe expression suddenly brightens and he smiles with apparent sincerity. "Probably just some kinda mix-up." He shrugs. "Now, it's getting near on noon, so why don't you direct us to this quartermaster of yours and we'll see about getting ourselves some lunch."