Dark Days in the Dark Forest (IC)

[The Anarresti]

High Hall and its surrounding fiefdom barely show marks of the evil fortune that had fallen on the Blackwood. It is the Month of the Raven, and the air is crisp with the taste of oncoming winter. The orange light of sunset glints off the wide lake that boarders High Hall to the east, and illuminates the peasants gathering their grain in the field. But from the top of High Hill, where the Castle lies, a different story is told. In addition to the village, refugee camps cover the land, both inside the Castle and out. A wall of rough-cut tree trunks lines the edge of the wide meadow that surrounds the base of High Hill, and on the horizon the Wood itself lurks, dark and foreboding in the evening light.
You are in the hall of the castle: a massive, multi-purpose room, a great hall. Normally filled with large tables for meals, only one remains: the massive, sooth sandstone slab that serves the King, his Knights and retainers as their table, raised on a dais at the end of the hall. Now, in place of food and drink, an enormous map of the Blackwood covers half the table, with various clay figurines placed on it to indicate where the Dark Queen's forces were sighted last.
King Eikhart himself stands at the table, his face downcast. His simple crown, set with only a single emerald, lays on the table next to him, forgotten. He is older than his years would indicate, aged by the troubles his people have faced. He is still long of leg and broad of shoulder, but his paunch, once a point of pride, now has a deflated air to it, and his beard and hair are grey like ash. He stands at the head of his table, brow furrowed, listening to a lean Sentinel. His loyal wife, Regina, her long grey hair cascading down her back, stands by his side. Her face, still beautiful after all these years, matches the King's.
The rest of the hall is filled with people, sitting in small clumps and talking amongst themselves in hushed tones. The air of the hall is heavy with smoke and the smell of unwashed people. The massive circular hearth in the center of the hall is lit, with the aged Hearth-mistress tending to it, keeping an eye on the enormous cauldron, large enough to bathe a grown man, that hangs above it. It is suppertime, and the charity of the King is apparent as his youngest son, the beardless prince Wilhiem, cuts trenchers for people waiting in line from a loaf of gritty rye bread. To the right of the prince, a one-armed man ladles thick stew out of the cauldron and spreads it across each trencher. Prince Wilhiem explains, time and time again, that each person must share their trencher with another: this is not the time for selfishness or gluttony.

[Zap Dynamic]

The streets of High Hall are as crowded with refugees as the surrounding countryside. Men, women, and children press in around an old man leading a donkey, crying out to no one in particular for food and shelter. The old man walks with a halting gait, the stiffness in the legs one of the last memories of years spent on his knees in a small garden. There may be no more than a few hundred people on the city streets, but they are more than he has ever dreamed. His eyes--usually kind--are filled with awe and fear.

In one hand, he holds the reins to his donkey and a sturdy piece of shaped wood, about a foot in length. His other hand is held high, and a corroded bell the size of a hand shank waves above the crowd. From time to time, the old man lets fly with the wooden clapper, and the bell resounds with a long, pure note.

As he reaches a square in the city, he pulls the donkey around behind him and looses a bag from its saddle. It is a large thing, and is heavy with the clinking of coin. He seats himself on a large stone, and opens the bag to reveal that it is filled to the brim with hundreds of silver ducats. A murmur makes its way through the crowd, building to what could be called a rabble.

"In the name of Mareal Turi," says the old man, his voice somewhat hoarse, "I come to heal the hurts of the woodfolk." His eyes fall on a young girl holding onto her mother's dingy apron strings. He heaves a sad sigh, and looks to her mother. "How much do you need to last the week, woman? There isn't much, but it's more than I need."

Slowly, the old man begins distributing coins to the people, who have formed a ramshackle line before him.

[Eldest]

Will walks into the town from a day of hunting, dragging most of a deer behind him, with Silver following. He finds the greathall kitchen and gives them the deer, wandering off around the town. He comes across an old priest giving out alms, and walks up to stand beside the man, Silver at his side. His voice is a high tenor. If you have that much to spare, you may wish to buy food with it and then give out that, food and blankets.

[Jungian]

Sparrow had traveled for several days through Blackwood. The woods showed signs of the Dark Queen's taint. Paths that had previously held a multitude of life laid bare. Trees that had held an unconquerable vitality sagged, their branches rotting and stripped of leaves. He approached High Hall, taking some time to enjoy the oasis of unmarred land. A piece of unblemished land, what a wondorous beauty it holds in these dark times. Though as he traveled closer, the few farmers tending the field betrayed a different story. Harden lines dotted their brows and sweat fell from their arms, as they toiled to feed the influx of refugees unto their lands. Their toil knew no end, and the meager harvest would be spread thin across the many hungry mouths. His steps slowed as he entered the village proper, weighed down by the tradedgy and troubles that prevaded the townsfolk. Sparrow passes through the a square, noting an old man next to a donkey distributing coin to those in need. A thoughtful gesture, but what could their coin buy in these times.

He continues along the path into High Hall. A small shiver runs through his spin as he enters into the stone castle, a part of him rejecting the separation from the Earth and Sky. He doesn't join the queue for a meager meal, and instead sits himself on a stone bench at the end of the hall. He sets his pack down, and rests his quarterstaff across his laps. His long unkempt brown hair falls down over his eyes, as his head drifts down onto his chest. He squirms a bit, uncomfortable in the molded leather armor he wore beneath a simple gray robe. The Writings have brought me to this place. Now I wait for the Path to become clear. He attempts to relax his mind as Master Oak had taught him over many years, and he could still here his master's teachings

Sparrow, one must still their own spirit and open themselves up to the Path. How foolish is a man who misses Life because of his preoccupation with himself. Though these quiet murmurs in his mind slowly cease, as he listens for those who might be useful in forging a new Path.


Listen [roll0]

[Wyntonian]

Father Ignatius is sore.

His whole life has been punctuated by hearing and telling stories of Heroes. Chosen warrior, anointed champions, all of them. He is currently rather peeved at the storytellers, himself included. Why?

Somehow, in the midst of explaining how Heroic these people are, they forgot to mention how ridiculously heavy their gear was.

His shield, a solid steel affair, is hard to conceal. His sword likewise is worn openly on his hip. The breastplate, with its bell motif, however, is covered by the same robe he wore as a preacher and the gauntlets and helmet are buried in his backpack.

He walks with a degree of awkwardness, trying to conceal any clinks or clanks, over to a man apparently handing out coins. "Hello, there. Looks like you could use a hand." He drops a pouch of silver next to the man's and sits down next to him. "I hope this helps. I hate to see these people go hungry."

[McToomin]

Linus had been invited the meet with the king and his advisers in High Hall, but opted not to do so. He trusted the judgement of his brother, the guardmaster Homer, and of King Eikhart. Instead, Linus felt his time was best spent outside of High Hall amongst the people, helping to ease their pain, in addition to acting as a mediator for disputes and arguments. Many of these people were not used to large crowds of people, and con men and hustlers had entered the city to take advantage of the more naive citizens. Linus did his best to catch these people in the act, and instead of taking hostile action against them, forgive them and ask them to remember the higher stakes of survival and community if they were to survive the Dark Queen's advances. He only hoped they would begin to pull their weight instead of preying on the weak. Maybe I'm the naive one.

Linus came across an old man, freely distributing silver ducats. A loose line had formed, but people began to look around nervously. A lot of people had joined the line, but it was clear that the man did not have enough ducats for all of them. The people began to look fearful that they would not receive any of the old man's ducats. Linus, with all of his food and shelter provided for by High Hall, drew a pouch of ducats from his waist.

"Everyone please, do not fear. High Hall has vowed to take care of the citizens of Blackwood, whether or not you have ducats to spare. I know things are difficult now, but we must band together if we are to survive. If these ducats run out, do not panic. You will be cared for."

Linus hoped that his position of authority would ease their nervousness. Linus always walked around in his uniform of High Hall; bright, golden-tinted armor, with his large sword and shield at his side and back. Linus made sure to kept his beard trim and his hair short. He felt that if he was to represent High Hall, he should do so at all times in word and deed. The people seemed to visibly relax. He bent down and handed his ducats to the old man to distribute.

100 ducats removed.

Linus moved on. With the influx of people to High Hall, so too had they brought scavengers with them. Large, black birds lined the roofs of buildings, shrieking and stealing whatever food they could lay their claws on. Linus eyed them with suspicion. It was suspected that the Dark Queen had spies in the form of normal animals. Any rat, any vermin, any dark winged beast could be an agent of the Dark Queen, gathering information. But there were far too many animals among them to do anything about.

Likewise, Linus watched the people closely. Many were dirty, with what he assumed were all the possessions they truly cared about bandied in packs on their backs, their former lives left behind, but not forgotten.

His mind flashed back to that night all those years ago, when a routine bandit attack was truly a front for the Dark Queen's advances amongst the Bracken. Since that night, Linus had warily watched any person whose face was covered with dark robes or a cloak. But too many people dressed this way to be able to stop them all. He attempted to look for strange behavior, but aside from minor squabbles about property ownership and inquiries as to High Hall's plans, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

"CAW!!!"

Linus instinctively ducked as a large raven flew just past his head before arching up and landing on a nearby rooftop. Linus swore that the bird turned around and stared directly at him. He stared down the bird coolly for a moment.

"CAW!"

Finally, Linus began to feel foolish. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

He looked around, but didn't see anything else he could do here. The people wanted answers that Linus did not have. I suppose I should see what the meeting was about after all.

Linus headed for High Hall.

[Zap Dynamic]

To see so many people in need is one thing, but to see others with hearts as giving as the old man's warms him to no end.

"Thank ye kindly, stranger" he says to the hunter. "These old bones never did have any smarts. Mareal Turi learns us in the ways of charity and goodness, but never did I think that mayhap there's more to charity than givin' out coin."

The old man eyes his bag of coins, then the gathering crowd. There's no chance that he can give enough for the people to be satisfied, but he must do what he can. "Hear me, O Supplicants," he prays silently in the way the priest taught him. "One o' yer number, Volta the Kind, had faith enough to turn a slight haul of fish and berries into a feast for a many folk. My faith be strong, and His Hand be loving. Plead to Him on fer us, that we be remembered in our need."

No sooner has he finished his thoughts than another brother of the cloth seats himself next to the old man, and a guard in radiant armor drops a large bags of coins next to his own. "A thousand thanks, sirs!" he says, holding his bell overhead and letting forth with a long, clear note. "His Light shines in the darkest places, and His Voice speaks to all things! Praise be Mareal Turi!"

"Who are ye, brother," he says to the man girt in shield and sword, "to bear the mark of His Voice upon yer shield?"

[Eldest]

Heh. You three are making me wish I had something to give. All I have to offer is my skill at hunting, which I have already done. You'll find there's some venison in the pot tonight. At this, Will cracks a smile, and his relative youth is apparent from how happy the smile appears.

[The Anarresti]

"Captain Linus! Captain Linus!"
A fresh-faced young soldier, barely out of boyhood, runs up toward the golden-armored Sentinel, stopping him in the street as he walks up High Hill.
"Captain Linus! We haven't heard anything from the Stag & Dragon for over two weeks! What are we to do?"

for Linus
You know already that the Stag & Dragon Inn is a famous, ancient Inn build like a fortress, halfway between Grand Delving, the largest city in the (now conquered) Elder Kingdom, and Sentry Grove, the home base of the Sentinels. Connecting these two is the longest and widest road in the Blackwood, the Forest Road, which takes a single rider three or four days on a fast horse to traverse, assuming no mishaps, and wide enough for five battle-clad knights to comfortably ride abreast.
Naturally, the Forest Road has become the front line of the war against the Dark Queen. Equally naturally, control of the Stag and Dragon is essential to maintaining control over the Forest Road. The Sentinels have held it for the past nine years, but perhaps not anymore....

for Sparrow
You hear two voices, one deep, resonant, but tired and old, and the other a measured, concerned tenor, coming from the dais.
"No."--first voice
"But, your majesty, this is of the utmost importance! We can't afford to hide in this keep like cowards!"--second voice
"We said no! We are not cowards. We fear neither man nor beast, nor even death itself. We fear only one thing, and that is the suffering of our people. For this reason, we say no."
"But--"
"No! We will take refugees, we will house you and your Sentinels, but we will never leave our Keep undefended, nor risk drawing attention to this quiet corner of the woods. We swore on the bones of our father to protect this Keep, and protect it we shall. Our word is final!"

[Wyntonian]

Father Ignatius smiles back. "My name's Father Ignatius. I'm a traveling preacher of sorts, in the wood. Plenty of believers back there, in with the pagans. More recently... Well, the church I had as a home isn't there anymore. Yourself?"

He hands a coin to a young mother as he speaks, and offers a short benediction over the child in her arms.

"May Sava the Great hold his hand between you and danger, little one."

[McToomin]

Linus recognized the boy as Thales, one of the newer recruits. Many had come to High Hall eager to fight, but not ready for it. Thales knew not what waited for him on the other side of his own blade. He only knew that his blade thirsted for the blood of the Dark Queen's minions.

Linus stopped to consider. Their forces were spread thin, trying to keep the peace and remain in control of what land they had left. It would take far too long to organize a search party, make it to the Stag & Dragon, and then report back, even if they ran into no trouble at all.

Linus bent down slightly to bring himself to Thales' level. "Here's what I want you to do, Thales. Organize as many of the Sentinels as you can find, and tell them to disperse amongst the people here in the streets and those taking shelter in High Hall. It would take too long to organize a search party ourselves, and hopefully we can gain the information we seek here at High Hall. You and the other Sentinels are only to gather information. Nothing the people say can be taken on its own, the Dark Queen could have spies here in the city. Simply gather everything you can find out, and have everyone report back to me in two hours at High Hall. Offer the people 5 ducats in exchange for worthwhile information."

Linus looked around at the poor souls who had dragged themselves here from every corner of Blackwood. The Stag & Dragon was on a major and open rode, surely some people must have come from that direction recently.

Linus found a nearby crate and stood atop it. He noticed the people mulling about grow quieter, watching him.

"People, listen to my words! I have been informed that we have had no contact with the Stag & Dragon in two weeks. The Stag & Dragon is an important landmark, not only for the people of Blackwood, but also as a military landmark for our crusade against the Dark Queen's advances. The Stag & Dragon is several day's ride away, and it would require Sentinels to leave the city in order to scout it, without knowing what danger we might face. So I ask, has anyone come from the direction of the Stag & Dragon in the last two weeks? The more recent you have come, the more valuable your information. High Hall will pay 5 silver ducats to any citizens who has valuable information concerning the Stag & Dragon. Please, we cannot afford to be wrong, we need the cooperation of the people if we are to keep you safe. So please, no false tales, no wild stories. Only true information of the Stag & Dragon's condition in the last two weeks is needed. You may report to me, or any Sentinel within the city. Thank you for your time."

[roll0] Diplomacy check

I have a 0 modifier. I think the consensus was that we were using the Giant's Diplomacy (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=9606632&postcount=2), so it's up to you as to what the target DC is, and what the modifiers are. By my count, I have no relationship with these people (+0 modifier), but I am offering them 5 ducats for information that poses them no risk to share, so hopefully that's a Fantastic offer (-10 modifier) instead of just favorable (-5).

[Zap Dynamic]

The old man smiled warmly at the young hunter as he gave a small stack of ducats to an elderly man leaning on a staff. "Time was I had that same smile, boy. But that was long ago." His eyes narrowed in thought for a moment. "But if ye seek to do his work, there's seat enough here for all o' us." The old man scooted over on his crate enough that the hunter could sit next to could.

As he dispensed another few coins to the needy peasants, the old man's mind flashed back to a few weeks prior. The corpses were heaped high all throughout his village then, and after he'd done the work of burying them, he went through their homes and gathered up all the coin any of them held safe for leaner times. May ye live in His Light forever, friends. he thought, heaving sobs for which he could no longer find tears. And many thanks for yer last gift. I will help you serve Him even in death.

The old man stirred as if from far away at Father Ignatius' mention of his old church. "Aye, not even His Holy Shrines be safe in these dark times. Ye may call me Father Bell, for I will make all the 'Wood ring with His Voice."

[Wyntonian]

Ignatius nods in approval. "Indeed, a worthy goal, and one I'd be happy to support. But I must wonder... Many of His Supplicants are those who defended their churches in times of need. It was because of those old tales that I took up the sword. But I no longer have a Holy Shrine to defend. Perhaps I should make it so that others need not come home to a ruined house and shattered walls...

[Eldest]

So long as you leave me room to make my sacrifices to the Erlking, you can spread his Voice all you wish. He pauses a bit, then murmurs My village was a bit of a backwater.

[Zap Dynamic]

Father Bell's eyes twinkle at Ignatius. "Aye," he says, glancing at his bag of ducats--much lighter than before. "Any work of pure heart in His Name is a good work. Why, me hands have only tilled the earth of the garden, and still He smiles on me."

And when the hunter chimes in, Father Bell chuckles. "Rolf, the priest from me home, always used to say that the Erlking and Mareal Turi--bless his name--got along just fine. Why, I've made sacrifices to both since I was younger'n you!" He regards the boy, taking in the scope of his frame and demeanor. "What's yer name, by the by? And what's the name o' this backwater you come from?"

[Eldest]

My name's Will. My village... I don't know the name. It was just home. Like I said, we were a backwater.

[Zap Dynamic]

Almost--but not quite--interrupting Will, Father Bells raises his hands and tolls the bell. Even with the unexpected donations, his bag of coins is almost empty. "May you walk in His Light forever, child," he says to a serene young woman who asked only for two ducats.

He passes a moment in silence, surveying the crowd that looks to be growing rather than shrinking. "I too lived in a backwater, lad." Father Bell says. "A few buildings were raised near a great rock that looked like a wild bull. We took to callin' the place Aurochs, but there were scant souls outside the village what knew the name."

[Eldest]

Aye. I've never heard of it. Course the only person with book learnin' nearby was our priest, and he and I never saw eye-to-eye. You seem a mighty bit nicer, though. You and him. Will gestures at the other priest, the one who had been clinking oddly.

[Jungian]

The Sentinels seek both refuge and warriors. Perhaps a site in which to launch a counterattack or a last stand. A promising start but where is aid being directed?. He had sat a minute more, but soon the sound of dining and small talk flooded the hall. Realizing that he had gleaned what he could, Sparrow started to depart. Sparrow's legs protested at his mind's command to stand. The days of travel had taken their toll, and Sparrow moved slowly out into the open air. As he followed the short path back toward the village, he spied a man in golden armor addressing a small crowd. As Sparrow neared the golden armored man, he silently listened to the man's plea for information about the Stag and Dragon. On the Path one can find answers to their questions. When the man asked for nothing but the truth, a small smile played across Sparrow's youthful features.

As the man finished his speech, Sparrow carefully approached and in a voice like a soft breeze he addressed the man, "Sir Sentinel, I understand you wish to learn of the Stag and Dragon condition, though I would advise against asking the people here. In my limited experience, the only truth is that which one sees himself. You ask these people torn from their homes, frightened for their loved ones and themselves to provide accurate information? Most were concerned with survival not scouting. Furthermore, groups such as these tend to share rumors amongst themselves, twisting the little truth each may have held."

Sparrow's pack had grown heavy over the course of the day and he placed it on the ground. Soon Sparrow plopped next to it. "As you sort what is fact and lies, the information will grow dated. While the trip may be arduous, it also provides the most recent information. What if the Dark..." and with a voice tainted by scorn, "Queen's soldiers march down the Road with the Stag and Dragon at their backs? They will fall upon these people, leaving nothing but death and despair in their wake. Better to go, then at least if the soldier's come, you could warn High Hall."


No diplomacy, a little heavy handed on impending doom of the people. But the best method to force the hand of a sworn protector of the people. Also sorry for the delay, life has been hectic as of late.

[The Anarresti]

At Linus's words, a huge mass of people surround him, pushing and clamoring for attention.
"I didn't see nuttin', but I heard that the witch 'erself flew over the Stag 'n Dragon."
"I used to work there, many winters ago. I'm not too worried; they say it's hard to take the place. It's built like a fortress, and haunted by good spirits."
"Don't build things way out in the woods, my granda said. The trees'll come and take it from ya, my granda said."
"A platoon of fairies, all dressed in green, on green horses with green spears, took the place over. I saw it with my very eyes!"
"No, you liar! A sea of serpants swarmed over the entire place, eating every last man, woman and child alive. I swear!"

[Eldest]

Will glares at the mass of people offering advice and tales. He speaks above the crowd, not quite shouting. Look, the only way you'll get information you know to be true is by sending somebody over there. I'll go, I'm good at surviving in the woods. I'll probably need a few other people to come along through the woods, though. Any takers? Will looks at people in the crowd at random.

[Jungian]

Sparrow's ears perked at a Man's shout for comrades. Sparrow managed propel himself to his feet and walked over the man.

"Sir, I offer my services. I know these woods intimately, and believe I would be valuable."

Ah the Path has shown me the first step in my journey.

[Eldest]

Will's eye twitches a little bit at 'sir'. Please, just call me Will. Very well, we've got one person on the way, any others?

[McToomin]

Linus watched and waited. While he was not opposed to sending a search party (especially given the frivolous and honestly useless information he had gathered thus far), there was no way to know if any of these volunteers were agents of the Dark Queen. Linus wished he could send a squadron of Sentinels in their stead, but with the mass of people fleeing to High Hall, the Sentinels simply could not be spared, even on such an important mission. While the Stag & Dragon was certainly an important landmark, sending an entire squadron of Sentinels there would leave High Hall even more defenseless against a full attack than it currently was.

At least the volunteers look competent enough. And neither of them have claimed to see fairies riding horses or flying serpents.

"Silence, please! I appreciate your earnestness, and High Hall thanks you for your... honesty. But these men are right, the only way to know for sure the state of the Stag & Dragon is to go there and see it for ourselves. Unfortunately, High Hall cannot afford to send a squadron of Sentinels, as the Sentinels have been tasked with protecting the city, and nary a few can be spared. Therefor, I will lead a team to the Stag & Dragon personally to discern its condition and why it has not contacted us. Only those who feel competent traversing the woods and dealing with its troubles should volunteer. There is no shame in remaining safely within our walls."

Linus thought about offering a reward for volunteers, but then thought best of it, given what had transpired only moments ago.

"I can make no promises to anyone who chooses to volunteer. The Dark Queen has otherworldly abilities and sinister agents who patrol the wood and typically leave none alive. I would personally never let harm come to a comrade, but I cannot guarantee our success or even our safety. I cannot guarantee that you will be rewarded, either."

Linus thought that sounded better. He was sure the king would reward anyone who did volunteer in some way, for undertaking such a vital and dangerous mission.

"Please, only serious volunteers need apply. For all others, stay safe, and stay merry. The Dark Queen can only grasp at the people of Blackwood for so long before we are able to strike back and regain what is ours. Anyone who does choose to join our task to scout the Stag & Dragon should meet with me in the common room of High Hall in one hour. You should make any preparations you need to make before then, and show up ready to depart."

Linus nodded politely to the people, and then walked as quickly as his legs would carry him to stop Thales before the castle was overrun with false information from people looking for ducats.

[Zap Dynamic]

Though his sack of coins is empty, Brother Bell continues to offer apologies and benedictions through the Sentinel's announcement, giving half an ear to what he's saying.

By the end of the man's speech, the crowd had clearly turned its attention from the aged man of the cloth--who had become nothing more than another poor refugee--to the armed and armored Sentinel. Brother Bell managed to hear the man's last words, and thoughts began to stir in his mind.

He approaches the Sentinel, leading his donkey by the reins. "Pardon, sir," he says. "Ye spoke of trekking to the Stag and Dragon. Do ye seek the minions of the Dark Queen?"

[McToomin]

"Honestly, no. With all luck, we won't encounter any of the Dark Queen's forces, and will find the Stag & Dragon exactly as we left it, with a reasonable explanation as to why they have not contacted us. But two weeks is a long time; they were supposed to check in often. I'm afraid something has gone wrong, and the Dark Queen may well be behind it."

[Wyntonian]

Father Ignatius steps forward to join to conversation. "I suppose you'd need those along who can protect themselves and others. I am well prepared to fight against the agents of the Dark Queen." He draws back the fold of his robe as well, revealing the glint of metal across his chest. "I worked as a traveling preacher for a number of years as well, and I know the area."

[Zap Dynamic]

Brother Bell ponders the Sentinel's words. "All I have I owe ter He Who Sits In The Sun, bless His Holy Name" he says, tolling his bell quietly. "He wants me ter carry His Voice to every corner of this dark wood, and ter bring the demons of this Dark Queen to His Light. If ye think ter find them on yer path, then I must come along with ye," he adds a hasty "sir," just to be safe. In all his years, Brother Bell has never seen a Sentinel in person, and for the life of him he doesn't know how to act proper in one's presence.

[The Anarresti]

The five new comrades assemble in the Great Hall some time later. By now, the sun has fully set, and the hall is dim, except for the red glow of the hearth, now sunk to embers, illuminating the old crone who still keeps watch, and the light of a single lantern on the King's Table.
He stands up at your approach. He attempts to smile, but his face is so worn by frown lines that it is obviously forced.
"Linus, my friend," he says warmly, "I hear you have found a search party." He indicates the map. "I trust you all understand the importance of your mission."
He yawns, and stretches.
"You may all sleep on the dais tonight. I will send a scout to wake you at first light."
You sleep on the dais. All through the night, the aged Hearthmistress stays up, staring into the flames. It is hard to tell if she is asleep or not.
The next morning, you are woken by a page. He guides you to a door in the wooden wall that now surrounds High Hall. The door is guarded by a boy who looks no older than a dozen winters, and a man whose looks almost threescore winters old. The page opens the heavy wooden door.
"This path leads straight to the Stag and Dragon. It shouldn't take you more than two or three days."
The page glances fearfully into the woods, dark and heavy despite the overhead sun.
"Good luck!" he says, and closes the door behind you.
As you set out into the woods, the massive, twisted trees loom over you, many of them wider than a man is tall. Their leaves are now turning brown, yellow and red with the coming of winter, but the canopy is still very thick, and it looks almost like twilight beneath the eaves of the Blackwood. The forest seems deathly quiet at first, but as you get accustomed to the silence, you hear the normal sounds of the forest: the rustling of leaves, the cracking of wood, the far-off call of an animal.

Spot and Listen checks, everybody!

[Jungian]

Sparrow had made the short trip to the Great Hall once more. His satisfaction at finding comrades in his quest to liberate Blackwood of the Dark Queen's influence was short lived, as the King of High Hall informed the group that the night would be spent in the Hall, itself. The cold stone pressed upon Sparrow a feeling of suffocation and entrapment. Though eventually his uneasiness gave way and he slipped into a restless sleep.

As Sparrow and his new comrades stepped into the true Wood, Sparrow's spirit joyfully soared at his reunion with nature. He could feel the Path of Life flowing through the Woods, as creatures unseen and unheard busied themselves with preparations for the coming winter. He marveled at the tree's fall garb. The mix of shades of browns, red, and yellows painted a masterpiece that no mortal artist could ever hope to match. Sparrow steps are unhindered by the undergrowth, as his body gently sways avoiding branches and thorns. His feet find small nearly unnoticeable gaps in the shrubs and grasses, leaving hardly any trace of his presence.

Though Sparrow countenance loosens as built up tension flows from his body, his eyes remain sharp and his hand firmly grasp his ash staff. His eyes quickly scan the growth around the group. For though the Blackwood was his habitat, his master had taught him the foolishness of being ignorant of his surroundings and of the dangers that the ancient trees conceal.

In an almost nonchalant voice Sparrow quietly mutters to his comrades, "The Woods harbor many kinds of creatures within their branches, not all are permissive of men's presence. I'm sure each of you are familiar with the stories. Though most are just a poor reflection of the Wood's true majesty."


A couple of checks for the GM
Spot [roll0]
Listen [roll1]
Knowledge Nature [roll2] (As in what sort of beasties may roam in this region of the woods)

[Eldest]

Will followed the group to the High Hall, slightly disappointed. He had meant for the mission to be a way for him to see more of the world while still being in the good graces of the King. And he'd gain glory from it, never a bad thing of itself. When the knight agreed to go as well, he'd been surprised but pleased. However, the priests going, as well as another man he knew nothing about, was a different story. He'd hoped for a bit more stealth, and it didn't seem like that was panning out. But he went on and took the place promised him on the dais. At least this group would be safer, if more noisy. He slept soundly, but keep a little bit of wariness even in sleep. He then moved on in the morning, without comment.

[McToomin]

Linus watched his traveling companions as closely as he could without seeming suspicious himself. As much as he wanted to trust them, he barely knew them. All he could do was hope that they were reliable in case they ran into trouble.

He stopped to appreciate the woods. The sounds, the colors, the smells. It had been quite some time since Linus had simply traveled along a path of the woods, as opposed to trudging through the wilds of the untamed forest.

Listen [roll0]
Spot [roll1]

[Zap Dynamic]

After his first night under a roof in many days, Brother Bell greets the day with a smile that could warm the coldest heart.

On the road, he almost feels as if he were a boy again, young and strong. He wiggles his bare toes into the earth as they walk, sharing anecdotes with his companions. At the same time, he seems to know the name of every plant and creature that passes their way. It is a morning of singular promise.

"His Light warms all things, don't ye agree?" he asks of no one in particular.

Spot: 27
Listen: 24

[Wyntonian]

Once outside of the castle, Ignatius removes his rough robe to reveal the enameled breastplate beneath, with the image of the shining bell. He settles the helm over his head, and draws on the gauntlets. "Warms and heals both, Brother."

Spot: [roll0]
Listen: [roll1]

[Eldest]

If you two say so, sure. Will mutters. He looks slightly tired, as if they hadn't slept well. Silver, on the other hand, is in fine form, from time to time rushing off after random prey.

[The Anarresti]

Bell, Sparrow, Linus
You hear a rustling in the trees, and look to see a gaunt, unclothed humanoid figure staring at you. Upon being spotting it hisses faintly around rotten teeth, and leaps off into the depth of the woods, leaving a swirl of leaves behind

Sparrow
nothing out of the normal. Deer, rabbits. The usual. (what else did you expect from a natural one?)

You all see Silver balk for an instant, and stare into the woods briefly, his tail gently twitching

[Zap Dynamic]

Brother Bell halts in his tracks. "Ho, friends. Did ye see that? Looked to be some manner of man, it did."

[Wyntonian]

Father Ignatius steps to the front of the group, slinging his shield around to his arm and placing a hand on the hilt of his sword. "Where, Brother?"

[Eldest]

I didn't see anything, but Silver sure did. Will pulls out an arrow and sets it to the string.

[Jungian]

Sparrow continues to eye the spot where the creature vanished, "It did appear to be a man of sorts. Though appearance isn't necessarily reflective of one's nature." What was that? Even after hundreds of years the Blackwood still guards its secrets. Was it human? Its appearance was so feral, so natural. A slight pang of envy passes through Sparrow, as he burns the image of the figure in his mind. His grip tightens on his ash staff and his eyes scan the surrounding tree tops. In a hushed tone he says, "We should continue onwards toward the Stag and Dragon."

[Zap Dynamic]

"The Chant says that only when all darkness bows to the Light, then will Heaven and Earth be joined as one." Brother Bell scratches his scraggly beard, his eyes trained on the spot of forest where the man--thing--was spotted. "But I'll not claim to know the Wood as well as ye, so p'raps 'tis best to keep moving."

[McToomin]

"I agree with Sparrow and Brother Bell, for now. It is undoubtedly some servant to the Dark Queen. If we should face a fight, I'd rather do it here, on the road, than out in the Bracken. I won't order any of you to do anything, but in my experience the Dark Queen's agents have superiority amongst the wood. I would much prefer to face them out in the open; and now we're ready for them. I say we keep moving and keep our wits about it, ready for trouble."

[Eldest]

Eh. I'm more comfortable in the woods, but if the rest of you prefer the road I'll live with it.

[The Anarresti]

The path is very chaotic, turning this way and that, seemly without any regard for straight lines. The wood, shadowy even in the bright sunlight, encroaches often, gnarled branches reaching out at you. The path is very chaotic: sometimes it is wide and smooth, enough to drive a cart on; other times it so narrow that it seems barely thick enough for a deer to pass on foot. The wood, normally full of the sounds of wildlife, is oddly hushed, the only sound being the whooshing of the wind and the creaking of the trees.
All too soon, it seems, the sun hangs low in the sky, beginning to set. Each day is shorter than the last.
By this time the path is relatively wide, but is starting to narrow again, and thick underbrush surrounds the road on either side.

[McToomin]

"I recommend we stop and make camp for the night. I also recommend we sleep in shifts, with two people keeping watch at all times. You should face out, away from the campfire, so that your eyes are adjusted to the darkness. And alert anyone should you feel that something is wrong. It is better to wake up everyone and be wrong than no one be awake if something does go wrong. I'll volunteer for first watch. Any other takers?"

[Eldest]

With all due respect, sir, teach your grandma to suck eggs first. Just make sure you get the right kind of wood for the fire. And I'll take first watch.

[Zap Dynamic]

Brother Bell ties his donkey to a branch, with a long lead so he can graze. "Old men rise early," he says, laying out a few trail rations near his coarse blanket. "I'll not be needin' to sleep fer long, so I can take the last watch. Young lad," he says, looking to Will, "D'ye need help with the firewood? This old back's got some use left in it yet." Considering how rickety he looks as he rises from his blanket, it's a dubious assertion at best.

[Eldest]

Feel free. The wood we need is deadwood, under trees so that it's dry. Will walks around, picking out the wood with the help of the priesty man, until they have enough for the night.
Hum de dum, set up a fire, set up camp.

[Wyntonian]

Father Ignatius unrolls a bedroll and sets to work gathering firewood. "If anyone's interested, I'd be happy to read from the Song of Unity this evening."

[Jungian]

At the hunter's suggestion Sparrow adds, "I was taught to choose wood that was dead but still on the tree, makes the most smokeless flame. As none of the grounds dampness soaks into the wood." While setting his camp Sparrow thinks, Tree, we thank you for the warmth and light from your essence, let it return to the Path to be reborn again.

[The Anarresti]

First watch, spot&listen checks

[McToomin]

Linus let the insult pass. At least the majority of the volunteers seemed capable of handling themselves in the woods. He helped to gather the best firewood he could lay his hands on, and dutifully began creating a small campfire, just for a little warmth and light. Linus found a comfortable position on a fallen log, facing away from the fire, as he had instructed the others to do. He only hoped that his watch-buddy did the same, but chose not to bring it up.

Listen [roll0]
Spot [roll1]

[Eldest]

Will sinks down on a tree stump, facing away from the fire. He pulls out a bit of jerked venison he had on him and starts to eat, while watching. Silver purrs and keeps him company.

Will's Spot: [roll0]
Will's Listen: [roll1]
Silver's Spot: [roll2]
Silver's Listen: [roll3]

[Zap Dynamic]

"It's been too long since I heard from the Song," Brother Bell says to Ignatius. "I was just of a mind ter recite the Benediction of Dusk," Bell looks around. The sun is no where to be seen in the midst of such a thick press of trees, but any woodfolk would know that the time is not far from sunset.

Kneeling precariously on his blanket and facing west, Brother Bell scoops up the handbell and clapper and closes his eyes. "Great God, Yer Light has shined on us unmarred this day, and we thank You fer it. As Yer go inter rest, and night falls, may Lune Your Champion watch over us, though the Dark Ones rise ter tempt us. We are Yers until Heav'n an' Earth are joined as one. Amen." He tolls a long, sonorous note on his bell after the words are finished, and it lingers on, weaving through the branches and down the Forest Road for a few moments before he opens his eyes again. He takes a deep breath, then looks to his companion. "How 'bout a little o' the Song?"

[The Anarresti]

Father Ignatius, feel free to post from the Song if you like, I don't want to cut that RPing short, but I also wanted to move along the story a little.
Secondly, I hope you all don't mind where I put you. It just seemed natural, is all.

After reading from the Song of Unity together, the two priests go to sleep side by side: quite the odd couple, elderly peasant and strapping knight. Further away from them, at the edge of the light, lies the young hermit, comfortable purely on the hard ground. Night descends, dark and still. The darkness here has an inky quality to it, seeming almost alive as it worms its way through the trees, extending fingers into the firelit oasis. The fire itself has shrunk down to lonely coals in the bed of ash, barely illuminating the area around itOutside of all firelight, the miss chance is 30%, not 20%, and you have to make a successful spot check every round to see if an object or creature is in a given square. Sparrow, you have a 10% miss chance, but no spot check is necessary in such a situation.
The fire sheds bright illumination 10ft out, and shadowy for another 10. This is doubled for Sparrow
The two watchers sit on either side of the fire, facing away from it and each other. On the one side is the armor-clad Sentinel, naked sword accross his lap, the model of attendance. On the other lounges the beardless youth, his fingers gently caressing his mountain lion companion; yet he is as tense as a bowstring.
The leaves rustle faintly, once.... then all is still.

Will
You see, in the trees directly above you, the wirey, naked man-thing you saw before. He (and you know he is a he) is staring right at you, soundless in the leafy branch, his greasy, stringy black hair hanging on either side of his face, rotten teeth bared in a grimace. You notice his feet and hands are overly large; his toes, almost prehensile, grasp the branch beneath him, while you cannot see the ends of his long fingers. His skin is horribly scarred, pitted and worried, bearing the marks of some horrible torture: compared to that, the cold night air on his bared skin must seem like nothing.
You feel Silver tense up beneath your fingers: you know he is also aware of the man-thing.
Roll Initiative. Be aware that if you do yell, you still have a surprise round in which only you and the creature act.

[Eldest]

DM Only
Feel free to post your description of events, including my actions, in the surprise round, so we don't have to drag that out a lot.
Initiative: [roll0]
Knowledge (Nature or Local, whichever is right for the creature) to try to figure out what I know about it: [roll1]
I will be directing Silver to attack (free action) and firing an arrow at it. Also, I will be yelling for everyone to wake up.
Attack Roll: [roll2]
Crit Confirm: [roll3]
Damage: [roll4]
Crit Damage: [roll5]

[The Anarresti]

A yell of alarm rents the air, accompanied by a thunderous crashing sound. All of you jerk awake in time to see Will fire an arrow wildly into the trees, and then suddenly be hit by a grey blur dropping from above. The same naked man-figure as before, the creature has horribly pitted and marked skin, bearing the scars of some great torture. His rotten teeth are bared in a grimacing smile as he slashes at Will with his hands; hands which, you now see, end in great long razor-like claws of bone. Both hands slash Will across his chest, ripping open his shirt and leaving a bloody trails behind. Silver snaps at the creature, but his fangs close on thin air as the creature twists out of reach, moving with a jerky grace reminiscent of a marionette.
Roll Initiative! Map is here. (http://beta.ditzie.com/267/4ff6e8ac3ab48) I think everything is self-explanatory. The red is the fire, the yellow lines mark the limits of bright and shadow illumination, and the black lines are fallen logs that can be used as cover. The cart is Brother Bell's donkey. I think every character is self-explanatory, except that lower down, the blond figure yelling is Ignatius, while the left-hand character in that pair is Bell.

Will
Take 6 damage. Also, it's showtime! I'll let you describe the big reveal.

[Eldest]

Wills backs away quickly, and through the wreckage of her shirt it becomes clear she had been lying about her gender. She quickly backs away from the... thing, and shoots another arrow at it, furious at it for ruining her ruse.

Well, I didn't plan that being right now, but eh. Probably for the best. Damn, I suck at reveals.
5 foot step away from the thingiemabober, already marked on the map.
Shoot an arrow at it.
Attack: [roll0]
Crit Confirm: [roll1]
Concealment Roll (if it's a 1the attack misses): [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]
Crit Damage: [roll4]

[Jungian]

Sparrow had been pleasantly dreaming about a lesson about two ant colonies, when the sudden commotion snapped him back to the real world. His new eyes clearly see the figure in the light. So it was hunting us... Springing to his feet, he grabs his ash staff in preparation of defending himself.

DM
not sure if we post our actions then have you resolves the round, so I'll post in here.
[roll0] initiative
Sparrow quickly reviewed his lessons, Master Oak had also been secretive in his sorcerery. As it is one of the most guarded secrets of the seers. The current foe could move with ease through the Forrest and seemed to be more agile than the group. He lowers his voice, so as to not alert the others to his abilities. In a strange tongue he says as his hands knot together, "Father Earth, I call upon your essence in this time of need. As the Earth binds the tree to the ground, bind this creature to your bones. "

Casting Impede, save is 14 will based. If it fails the save, it is unable to move. If the spell succeeds, small roots would sprout from the ground binding his feet to the ground.

[Wyntonian]

Guided as if by an invisible hand, Ignatius leaps out from under his bedroll and snatches up his sword and shield. Some part of him idly wishes he had been able to sleep in his armor, but the rest is a blur of wild prayer and adrenaline.

Move action to get up from prone, move action to pick up my sword+board.

Initiative: [roll0]

Also, isn't Will a dude? Yet another indication that I shouldn't post while distracted by installing SKYRIM!!!!!!

[McToomin]

Linus instinctively leaps to his feet, whirls around, and begins charging towards the creature in a single motion, drawing his blade as he does so.

Linus attacks the creature and attempts to interpose himself between it and the rest of his companions.

Initiative [roll0]

Move: Can I reach it in one move action with a 20 ft. speed? I think that I can but I'm not sure. If not, disregard the following.

Attack: [roll1]

Damage: [roll2]

If Linus is within range, he will definitely attempt to intercept the creature's next attack if possible (I make an opposed attack roll (adding my shield bonus as well because of the Bastion archetype), and if I beat his attack roll, I am the target of the attack instead). If I am in range and the creature makes an attack next to me, here's my attack roll to intercept:

[roll3]

[Zap Dynamic]

Brother Bell awakes with a snort. "Eh? Wha--?" He spots the creature attacking the group, and gropes for his bell and clapper. "Demons! Agents o' discord! Hear His Voice an' lament!" Brother Bell tolls his relic without even rising to his feet, and a hauntingly pure note emanates throughout the area. It weaves through the branches, the combatants, even the wisps of flame, and seems to beckon those who hear it to take pause and contemplate its splendor.

Move action to draw the bell.
Standard action to cast Daze on the creature:
The creature needs to make a DC 14 Will save or take no actions next round. This spell is subject to Spell Resistance.