The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

[purepolarpanzer]

Set and Birel

The Chief nods at Birel's assessment. "Alright. We will wait till you are done your search before we burn the barn. Just in case. Now I'll get back to the villagers so Master Fanlomen can return to you and you can all continue the search." The Chief makes his way south back to the village at a good clip for a man as infirm as he appears.

Fanlomen

Apparently this sect of the Green Faith keeps similar hymns with Fanlomen's people, as most of the villagers sing along with the Shepard with gusto. The music calms many, and the tension of the villagers lessens by the verse. There are still some holdouts who look at him with the disdain of the outsider, but Fanlomen manages to keep everyone in check until the Chief arrives. He gives an appreciative nod to the wood elf, then whispers to him. "Go back to the search now. The sooner we can get this done, the better. Night has a way of bringing out the worst in people. The whispers of Pale Night, no doubt."

Fanlomen returns in short order. The burning of the barn takes little time, as dry hay makes for excellent fuel. The flames roar into the night, and soon the barn and the kill shed are a blazing inferno. Thankfully all of the cows and bulls remaining are still out in the fields, so they do not perish with the desecrated building. The searchers watch, and one of them speaks up. "Did any of you hear a scream? A monstrous shriek? Or was that just me?" None of you heard it, but it is hard to hear anything over the roar of the flames. The barn will burn for hours before it is ash, so when Birel asks two of the helpers to remain behind they agree hesitantly. The search moves on to the Hartswood.

Into the wee hours of the morning the search continues, but nothing comes up tainted or dangerous. You ransack a few more homes, including Birel's and Selissa's cottages, but thankfully there is no sign of evil. The last house you come across is a distant neighbor to both of the adventurer elves- a small cottage next to the Green Faith cemetery that has been abandoned since Martin Heglum, the undertaker, died of a fever three years ago. It is a miniature home, so it takes no time at all to search, but after investigating the dusty and cobwebbed home both Birel and Fanlomen notice something amiss in the cemetery. At the heart of the burial ground is a massive oak- a representation of Father Oak to watch over the deceased in their passage back to nature's embrace. But both elves can tell from outside the small clapboard fence that the oak is dying. It's leaves are the dull brown of fall despite it being summer, and several branches have fallen, knocking over the wooden grave markers closest to the tree. The cemetery has been here longer than even Birel has been alive, and when it was first founded that tree was planted in it's heart to watch over the dead. Soon there will be no guardian of the graves. Most Green Faith cemeteries have few problems with undead, and according to the Faith it is because of the guardian trees. Something is wrong here.

Vargath, Selissa, and Jemriah

When Jemriah takes a slug of the jug, the taste of pure spirits strikes his throat like a hammer, nearly knocking the wind out of him. He is an experienced drinker despite his age, and this alcohol is strong enough that it would leave a less experienced person wheezing. Almost immediately there is a warm feeling in his stomach that spreads outward, filling the human from head to toe. Moreover, there is a tingle of magic in the spirit. The warmth comes with a strong buzz that fuzzes the man's perceptions- one more slug and Jemriah would be soundly drunk. How Ol' Roger drinks this like water and stays conscious is a mystery. Feeling the magic, Jemriah decides to investigate further while everyone searches.

The still is a complete rig job, cobbled together from copper pipes, an iron barrel, and wooden braces. It is currently not operating, so Jemriah feels safe opening the main chamber and peeking inside. When the small door on the barrel slides open, there is a rush of intense alcohol stained air that makes his eyes water and his already fuzzy head even fuzzier. While it is improvised to the extreme, everything is just as Jemriah would expect from his years working with brewing and distilling with his family, but there is something curious. Inside the main chamber, hanging on a silver chain, is a piece of jewelry. It is hanging just low enough that if the barrel were filled with water and mash it would be suspended in the mix. At the end of the chain is a pendent of radiant gold wire wrapped around a milky white gemstone. At first it just seems like a trick of the light, but with close observation Jemriah ascertains that the gemstone is glowing. Drawing from his knowledge of magic he has picked up since discovering his own abilities, Jemriah realizes that the stone imparts the alcohol with a minor protective magic meant to reinforce the drinker's abilities to resist outside forces, be they magical or mundane in nature. There are several more empty clay jugs next to the still, along with one full one that sloshes with promise.

After finishing the search at Roger's place, only a few homesteads remain to be checked. One of the Chief's helpers agrees to lead Roger back to the village, and the old man follows readily enough, humming a happy tune and drinking off his jug as he goes. The sound of violence and combat fades away as you follow paths deeper into the Banewood, with the moon beginning to descend in the sky as night transitions into morning. You find two empty, innocent simple farmsteads before moving on to the third and final house in your search. . This home is deeper into the Banewood than any other, a risk many villagers would never take. The owner, a dire, musclebound man by the name of Jon Bence, was always suspected to be a bit crazy for his decision to settle down here. While everyone else searches his long, single story log house, Selissa investigates the back yard and garden. It is here that she finds something amiss.

After hearing a sound in the bushes, Selissa looks at the treeline. It must have been a small rodent of some sort, spooked by the noise of the search, but a particularly thick section of bushes catches her eye. Upon investigating it, she can tell it has been purposefully reinforced with branches and bows. Clearing some of the extra foliage away, she finds a trail that has been hidden on purpose. The trail does not go far, just beyond the range of her night sight, and by taking a brief walk on it she readily makes out what is hidden in the dark of the forest. A large pile of stones has been assembled, forming an altar. Carved into the stones are symbols that would be familiar to the other search party, but are new to the wood elf. Sharp, pointed edges, fat misshaped circles, and a radical geometry that almost hurts to look at. Each symbol has been carefully carved, and there is something odd about them that she cannot make out in her black and white darkvision. She can, however, make out what rests upon the altar. A great stag, a symbol of strength and purity in the Green Faith, has been dismembered and spread across the stone in a seemingly random fashion. It takes her a second to recognize that it has been skinned, charred, and carved with the same symbols that adorn the altar. More disturbing, however, are the bite marks.

Large chunks have been removed from the beast's body, larger than a bear or cougar could possible manage, and the teeth crunched through bone as easily as flesh. The bites seem random, with a large section of antlers sheared off, all of the innards missing, and a hoof viciously ripped off. Whatever fed here didn't care about sustenance as much as destruction, and must have been twice the size of the largest natural predators native to these forests. Even more concerning, there are large claw marks in the stone surrounding the dismembered body, something no animal could accomplish. More information may be gained by a closer inspection under torchlight, but it is already evident that Jon Bence is worshiping something far darker than the Green Faith.