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

[purepolarpanzer]

In the Oaken Larder

The Chief looks incensed for a moment at Vargath's words, but he sags after a moment, seemingly deflated. "I want to be there, but my presence may... complicate things, to say the least. It may be in the best interests of the village if I recuse myself from this... personal entanglement." He sips his cider, taking a deep pull, before continuing. "I think you may be onto something with the fey connection. The Hartswood has always been home to many fey of differing degrees of mischief. Selissa also had a good idea- some offering may convince a fey or spirit to allow you access to the cabin if they have secreted it away. As for the cabin itself moving, I doubt it. It had a cellar, and there is no hole or foundation to be seen. No tracks either, so no indication that it got up and walked away. We simply can't find it."

The Chief is silent for a few moments, taking another deep pull of cider that nearly empties the glass. He looks at it, as though pondering another, before setting aside the dregs and steeling himself. "As for the witch, Moira Taggart Bo'Tel is the last remaining member of the Bo'Tel elven family. Long ago, that clan of nobles ruled Dam'ess and the surrounding area from their estate on Raven's Reach, an island in the center of the lake that bears their name, to the east of here. But the family was accused of witchcraft nearly a hundred years ago by the Daravont family, the holders of the crown of the Vale. The island was seiged for over a year until most of the inhabitants died of starvation, then assaulted and burned, the few remaining hanger ons of a harsh winter put to the sword. To my knowledge, Moira was the only survivor. She disappeared for decades before reappearing in my youth, though she bore a different name when I knew her. She was lovely, spirited, smart as a whip..." He curses and grabs the mug, tipping back the last dregs of cider and slamming it back on the table. "We were... involved. But when I learned of her true name, her dark magicks, and her true malevolent intent I cast her out of the village. She intended to resume rulership of the area and rise against the Daravont with an army of the dead spawned by her dark power. She cursed me for my betrayal, and that is what twisted my back, robbing me of my physical abilities that she knew I was so proud of. Before I knew it, a party of mercenaries was sent by the crown to end her plans for good. They rowed out to Raven's Reach, and a few days later half of them returned, bearing her head on a pike. I... I mourned her, despite her dark heart, her foul intentions, and her evil magicks. But it seems something went wrong in killing her. I'm not sure what, but obviously she was not as vanquished as we once believed." He sighs and grips the table hard enough that his knuckles crack like wood bursting under a maul. "If possible, I'd rather we handle her without the Daravonts finding out she still lives. Last time they threatened to burn the village for her sins, and I doubt that threat is any less real today than it was fifty years ago."

[Amnestic]

Vargath mentally takes tally of the items he currently has, if any might suffice as an offering - he comes up short. "I have nothing that would suffice as a potential trade with fey, save coinage, and I would guess they don't care for it." Kindred spirits in that regard, though he preferred to traffic in favours rather than trinkets. He puts the information about Moira to one side for now - perhaps the chief had just illuminated the cause behind the meeting, and she intended to recruit the party herself. To take her lands back after losing them so many years ago. Making friends with a witch was certainly preferable to having to fight one - especially one that was, apparently, capable of returning from the dead, though it would raise the question why she was bothering with cursing this spittle of a village if she held such power and...no, no, focus on the task at hand.

His eyes scan the others in the room, in case they had anything of worth to volunteer. Otherwise...perhaps they'd need to shop around. There had to be something in town they could use - a waterclock or some other timepiece seemed ideal, but he'd take whatever they could get.

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16 HP: 20/20 PP: 13 PIv: 13 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor Concentration: -- Birel frowns as the Chief tells his story about the witch. An unfortunate bit of history in this unfortunate bit of the world. She ponders for a moment, but deems it somewhat unlikely they're going to be able to come to terms with an undead woman bent on revenge. As for the matter of the fey, she says, "I agree, the fey are a likely cause. We'll have to go there and see what the price to pass will be and hope it's something we're willing to pay or its a kind of fey folk I know how to deal with."

[Riggdgames]

Set Al-Sayyid Changeling Fighter/Hexblade AC: 16 HP: 27/27 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- The elven woman in the attic. A ghost-like image of black charcoal on white parchment bubbles up in Set's mind, dark eyes staring back out at him from their paper prison. Moira? It was hard to imagine the smiling woman in those images could be the same witch who plagued this village, but after going through the Chief's home and now listening to his story, it was harder still to imagine anyone else in her place. Set's frown deepened as he considered the Chief's story further. Where the drawings were clean, clear images in black and white, Moira's tale was smudged with grey. A woman wronged who'd wronged others. A woman killed who still lived. Dam'ess, it seemed, was home to light, dark, and everything in between, Set thinks to himself, resisting the urge to look around at his companions. As Vargath and Birel speak, Set's mind shifts to the coin, a trinket with intricately carved symbols from a foreign land. It is the only thing he carries that remotely matches his instincts as far as what a Fey might find valuable. Set's hand drops to the pouch at his belt and finds it before running his thumb over the symbol of the Ankh. Draining the last of his ale, Set's chair scrapes along the floor as he pushes back and stands, making for the bar. Pulling the coin free, Set flips it as he sets down his mug, watching it hang in the air for just a second before it slaps back into his palm. The scarab's legs seemed to reach out towards the edges of the coin, trying to reach past and embrace him. "I don't think I have anything a Fey would value," he says carefully, leaning heavily on Vargath's words while trying hard to skirt the truth. He really didn't know if his coin would make a difference, but he was eager not to dwell on the subject. "But if the Fey are involved then Birel is right, we should see if they'll answer our call and tell us their price," Set ventures, turning back towards the others. "We can discuss what to do about Moira later." Set leans back against the bar, shoulders relaxing and feeling relieved to have found a way to escape the full truth. He didn't know if the coin was valuable, but offering its importance freely to the whole group was unnecessary. Jemriah's insistence and Birel's shining example were all well and good, but they'd only meant he shouldn't keep any important secrets. No one cared about the coin, least of all the Fey, probably. No, definitely. Spoiler: OOC Show Coin-flip in Discord... Set's really not sure if the Fey care at all for his coin so I'm not sure this warrants a deception roll, but hey, he thinks it's pretty neat and wouldn't trade it for all the silver in Harumvale so...rolling. Deception: (1d20+3)[5]

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16 HP: 20/20 PP: 13 PIv: 13 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor Concentration: -- Birel notices Set's deliberate coin flip while professing a lack of anything of value. The fact that he looked at it with such weight as he said the words, as if trying to convince himself more than anyone else, stuck out to her clear as day in that moment. She just gives him a look and looks to the coin and back at him, but says nothing.

[Riggdgames]

Set Al-Sayyid Changeling Fighter/Hexblade AC: 16 HP: 27/27 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- As Set looks over his companions, he jumps slightly finding Birel's gaze already on him. Naturally he'd just been speaking so that didn't really mean anyt-- She very pointedly looked down at the coin, then back up at him. Oh for the love of... "I mean I do have this coin, but like Vargath said I doubt they're interested in such things," Set says, feeling compelled to answer that look. Mouth twitching, Set bites down on the inside of his cheek to stop it. "Admittedly it holds a certain value to me though. I just, I don't think its something they would want." Dropping the coin back into his pouch, Set's shoulders slump a fraction as he looks back and forth between Jemriah and Birel, offering a clipped explanation. "I'm trying. I'm sure it's nothing to them and it won't matter, but I wouldn't trade it for all the silver in Harumvale so even if they do want it, we'll have to find another way." Glancing quickly over the Chief and the others, Set mutters an apology under his breath, though its unclear whether it's meant for them or the coin. He strides around the bar and helps himself to a refill, dropping a silver on the bar as he drinks down another ale.

[Amnestic]

"I'm sure we can negotiate something without giving up prized possessions," he assures Set, trying to recall what exactly he'd seen the day before in their traipse through town. The thought came to mind immediately, of the mad old man's booze machine. No doubt that would work, but depriving the village of some actual decent alcohol was something Vargath wasn't exactly comfortable with. It was perhaps the last refuge the man had in this dark, doomed place. No, there must be something else. "ᛞᛃᛖᚢᛖᛚᛗᚨᚾᚾᛖᚾ ᚺᚨᛞᛞᛖ ᛞᛖᛏ ᛞᚢ ᛏᚱᛖᛜᛖᚱ." Oh, there they were. They'd been quiet for a bit. A refreshing silence, but they were never gone for long. Devil man...Bence? No, no, they must mean Weldry.

Vargath casts his mind back, mentally strolling through the cowardly infernal worshiper's shop in his mind, peering and poking at things - he'd not expected anything suspect to be freely on display so he hadn't committed much to his mind. One thing though. A toy of some sort, a clockwork contraption inside of a dragon's metal shell that moved and made noise when properly wound. "ᛖᚾ ᛚᛁᛏᛖᚾ ᚠᛟᚱᛗ ᚠᛟᚱᚱÅᛞᛖᚱ ᛖᚾ ᛊᛏᛟᚱᛗᚨᚲᛏ." Very cryptic. Were they talking about him or the child's toy? Both, if he were to guess. It was almost certainly something the fey didn't have access to themselves, which would suffice. He'd left it alone of course. He wasn't in the market for children's toys right now, probably not ever, and it was...maybe still there? Among with some other things that might be of use, if the village hadn't already claimed them. He'd been looking for valuables or signs of Weldry on his second visit, so he couldn't be sure. Still, it was the best lead he could think of.

He snaps from his imagined trip down to the shops and tunes back into the conversation. "We could revisit Weldry's store - abandoned now, but I recall seeing something that we might offer, and he's got no use for them now. And if they are somehow devil touched, better to put them in the hands of the fey than leave them here, unless anyone has any better ideas?"

[Awful]

More threats to the village, this time from an undead far-sister and even, it seems, potentially the human crown itself. Danger upon danger. She thought of teeth meeting flesh around an arm, before she dismissed it. They'd already broken the cult and their hell-called horrors.

Perhaps she was already starting to get back into her old ways.

Selissa considered Vargath's suggestion with a tilt of her head.
"Fine by me," she added.

[purepolarpanzer]

In the Oaken Larder

With the liquid portion of breakfast consumed and a plan laid out, the party heads for what was once Weldry's general store, looking for offerings to whatever powers may hide their prize.

In Weldry's Store

The store is even more damaged than it was the day before. It seems you are not the first to think of looting the recently vacated store for it's goods. As you all approach, a man runs out, his hand stuffed full of jewelry, his face white as a sheet. "De...de...demon! A foul creature from the depths of hell! RUN!" He dashes off, leaving a trail of gaudy baubles that drop from his clenched hand. Inside you can hear a loud, keening bawl- a wailing, high pitched cry that pierces the air like a knife. It falls away, fading into blubbering that sounds as though it could be coming from a small child. As you draw near, you see the familiar figure of the counting devil, mottled gold scales glimmering in the dim light, squatting in the wreckage of the shelves which have been broken for fire wood, looted for profit, and tossed asunder. It is crying, holding what appears to be a handwoven baby blanket wrapped around itself with one hand, the other clutching a small, mechanical dragon toy. Between it's wails of sorrow, the hellspawn manages a few words. "Beautiful store... precious goods... shiny coins... all gone! All gone! No more counting for Squeeb! Lost in this world with nothing to count! WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" He winds the toy while snuffling, his oversized eyes blinking with tears, and it begins to waddle about, making small roars. "One clockwork dragon..." He waves a small clawed hand over the toy, and with a flash of golden light suddenly a second one appears next to it, waddling in the opposite direction. "Two clockwork dragons... WAAAAAAAAHHHH!" More tears, wiped away by the baby blanket. The creaturet tucks it's tiny wings against it's body and wraps itself more tightly with the blanket, rocking in place and sobbing.

[Amnestic]

Vargath glowers down at the small, pathetic creature. Assuming it was small and pathetic in the first place - for all he knew behind that form it had something more terrible. There was no trafficking with devils. Not for Weldry, not for the town, and certainly not for Vargath. He unhooks the axe hanging from his belt, spinning it twice and letting the whistle sing through the air. Let it hear him. Let it see him. It made no difference. He wouldn't even need to call on the power of his tenants for this. His legs tense as he bursts from the group into a sprint without a word, crossing the store with speed and precision. He holds his axe low, its blade edge barely skating a hair's breadth above the ground.

The devil's reactions don't matter a whit to him as he swings his body weight through the axe up on the step past the creature, aiming to split its head open with one clean swing. By moving to the other side of the devil he's also opening up it to be attacked by any who might want to follow suit, as well blocking any attempt escapes. Perhaps he should have said something, but there was little use wasting words on this...thing.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Attack roll if needed? (1d20+5)[6](1d8+5)[12]

Not spending resources, on the off chance a proper challenge finds us, don't wanna spend a short rest on a tiny imp-thing.

[Awful]

Selissa watched as Vargath burst into motion. Like a deadly predator, he ran towards the imp... and utterly failed to make any sort of contact.

Against an immobile, sitting creature that was making no effort to defend itself.

She took a brief second to sigh before she popped round the doorway and put an arrow through it.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Hide roll: (1d20+8)[18]
Hit: (1d20+6)[23] or (1d20+6)[25] or (1d20+6)[10]
Dam: (1d6+4)[8] + SA (2d6)[7]

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16 HP: 20/20 PP: 13 PIv: 13 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor Concentration: -- While Vargath and Selissa attempt to kill the imp, Birel takes her time to pick up the baubles the looter dropped in his hasty flight.

[Riggdgames]

Set Al-Sayyid Changeling Fighter/Hexblade AC: 16 HP: 27/27 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- As he follows behind the others, Set barely has time to process the imp's wails before Vargath goes charging in, axe upraised. Set's first instinct is to grip his Favorite, readying himself for battle, but as his eyes follow Selissa's arrow Set's first instinct is subdued. A devil it may be, but dangerous it was not. The question that comes to mind dies on his lips before he can ask it. Does anyone know if the Fey would've enjoyed a curious little devil-thing that can count? It felt somehow improper to question the Mighty or the Evergreen's actions, particularly after Vargath had spoken for Set and assured him he needn't worry about offering his coin. Looking down at the imp, it hardly seemed to matter now anyway. Instead he stands awkwardly for a few moments, eyes settling on his North Star as she shuffles through the store, seeking other things the Fey might like instead. An unseen force seems to pull in her direction, but with an effort he turns away and instead moves to investigate what remains of the diminutive devil. Standing near Vargath, Set offers his condolences, tip-toeing around the subject as his eyes remain focused on the imp. The idea that Vargath might prefer not to speak of his mishap doesn't occur to Set until after the words are out of his mouth. "The fortunes of war can be fickle, can't they? In all my travels, I've yet to find the warrior immune to the chaos of battle. In my experience, things that can't happen do all too often." Spoiler: OOC Show Investigation for what it's worth since Set never really got a chance to look at the devil up-close when the other crew first brought it to Chief Moeller. Not sure I'm expecting to see anything here, just interested in looking. Investigation: (1d20+2)[20]

[purepolarpanzer]

In Weldry's Store

The imp doesn't have time to react before an axe chops downward mere inches from it. It releases a shriek, but before it can take flight an arrow sinks into it's body with a solid thunk, spitting it. The creature lets out a pitiful moan, then bursts. Copper pieces go flying, ricocheting around the room with speeds that could bruise and draw blood. The arrow falls to the ground, solidly stuck through a sizable gold coin, it's etchings distorted and broken by the shaft. After a few seconds the coin splits with a loud metallic shriek, separating into two halves and falling away from the arrow. All that remains of the counting devil are these broken halves of the coin, which quickly tarnish and lose their luster, now looking more like old bronze than gold. The copper pieces disappear entirely.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Everyone within 30 ft of the devil takes 2 damage from the coin shrapnel that erupts from the body. Honor system if you think you should take damage or not.

[Amnestic]

The explosion of coins hits Vargath head on, since he was right beside the creature when it died, but they're still just coins. He brings up an arm to block the worst of it from his eyes, while still trying to leave as much of his eyesight available as possible. It might leave a bruise here or there but it wasn't worth dwelling on. As the coins vanish from sight he lowers his guard with a smile. It's good that someone else followed up, they they were of the same mind. His miss didn't bother him - they happened. Such was life. Acknowledge, learn and move on. "If I lost heart after every missed strike then I'd have been abandoned to the elements long ago." He replies to Set as he hooks the axe back to his belt, letting it dangle slightly. On the plus side he wouldn't need to clean any devil gunk from the blade. Still as sharp as it needed to be.

He scoops up the clockwork dragons, stilling their movements, before tossing one to Set and stowing the other in his pack. It looked like Birel had already acquired some things of her own. "I don't know what the fey are like, but we may want to try to find something to offer from each of us. Seems like the sort of thing that could catch us out."

[Awful]

Selissa ducked back to avoid the spray of shrapnel, coins clattering violently off the doorframe. She poked her head in once it was over, then entered properly to recover her arrow. She did so gingerly, poking with it at the tarnished halves of the cursed coin remaining.
"...Someone deal with that."
She'd had enough to do with devils; her duty discharged in killing the damn thing, she began prowling round the store, looking for something to be of worth. She poked at a pile of parchment to see if there was anything beneath the sheets, and dismissed them when there was nothing but a set of inkwells.
"Miss like that too much," she snarked at Vargath, "Might lose your heart anyway."

[Riggdgames]

Set Al-Sayyid Changeling Fighter/Hexblade AC: 16 HP: 25/27 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- Set catches the dragon with a nod to the half-orc, stowing it away in his pack and looking around for anything else that might be of value. He rubs his temple absentmindedly, having not quite been as fast as Evergreen. Whereas she knew to fire and duck back under cover, Set had been far too occupied watching the flight of her arrow to completely avoid the imp's last spiteful strike. "Worry not," Set says, squatting down low to examine and pick up the two halves in a pair of gloved hands. "I don't think there's anything left of the devil in these, Selissa," Set says, still focused entirely on the tarnished bronze. "Two sides to every coin," Set muses quietly to himself, looking back and forth between the two halves before pulling out his own coin and flipping it. Pausing to stare a moment longer, Set slowly nods to himself and pockets the coin-halves to examine further later. Distracted though he is, Set can't help smirking over at Evergreen and the Mighty, swallowing a chuckle as she jabs at him. "I'm sure if he misplaces it, you could help find it for him. The imp's heart couldn't have been much bigger than that coin," Set says, miming an arrow pulled back and loosed, "but you found it anyway."

[Awful]

Selissa made a vaguely embarrassed noise at being praised.
"It's nothing hard," she muttered. "Arrow knows where to go. Just have to let it. Thinking about aiming is just the-"
She paused to mentally translate a saying.
"-The dilemma of the centipede."

[Riggdgames]

Set Al-Sayyid Changeling Fighter/Hexblade AC: 16 HP: 25/27 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- "The dilemma of the what?" Set asks, feeling for a moment like Evergreen had just gifted him with some knowledge only her people were privy to, if only he could grasp it. "The...centipede? Are those not the many-legged creatures?" Set looks back and forth between the Mighty and Evergreen, eyebrows raised, wondering if Vargath already knew of what she spoke. He tried to puzzle over her meaning for a moment longer before shrugging, obviously exasperated, and simply saying, "we do not have such things where I am from." When the matter is settled, Set seeks out his North Star. "Vargath found two of these clockwork dragon toys," he says, pulling one free and showing Birel. "Did you have any luck?"

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16 HP: 20/20 PP: 13 PIv: 13 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor Concentration: -- "Just a few shiny baubles. Nothing of real worth yet." Birel replies but then actually goes inside to look around. Spoiler Show Investigation: (1d20+3)[14]

[Awful]

"Yes, a small insect with many legs. Some of the larger ones are edible, though they too can bite."
Selissa cocked her head at Set for a moment as she thought, translating the fable.
"The dilemma is a child's tale. A centipede has many legs. One is hunting a mouse, and is about to catch it. The mouse asks, before it is eaten, which order the centipede moves its legs. It thinks on it, and confuses itself, and what was natural becomes impossible. So the mouse escapes, and the centipede goes hungry."
She shrugged.
"A child's tale. But the behind of it is true for many things. Skill without thought."

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16 HP: 20/20 PP: 13 PIv: 13 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor Concentration: -- "A most apt description of you, yes." Birel snarks.

[Awful]

For a second, Selissa shot the other elf a betrayed look before her eyes narrowed. A heartbeat later, her expression had smoothed itself into the normal blank mask she wore like a shield.
With an irritated tch!, she stalked into the back rooms of the shop to look around more.

[WhismurWanders]

Fanlomen listens and observes, his mind drifting elsewhere before he could do so much as raise a finger to help against the tiny demon, only brought back to the present by a stray coin nicking an opening in his armor. His eyes light up as he notices the arrow encircled by the broken coin, but he frowns as the coin splits in half. The coin impaled on the arrow, accompanied by the tale of witnessing such a skillful shot ... it would have been something to offer the fae. Probably.

With most of the shop looted, there wasn't much hope of finding anything of too much value here. When Vargath mentions things of personal value, Fanlomen falls into silent contemplation once again. What could he offer the fae? He didn't carry many possessions or trinkets with him. Perhaps the code-book from the Shepherds? He had little use for it now, but if such a thing were to fall into the hands of the mischeivous fae ...

Perhaps he could find a suitable offering in the forest, on the way to the location of the hunter's refuge.

[Riggdgames]

Set Al-Sayyid Changeling Fighter/Hexblade AC: 16 HP: 25/27 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- Before Set has a chance to comment on the child's tale, Birel's response sends Selissa stalking in the opposite direction. Raising an eyebrow, Set gives Birel a questioning look. "I had thought far-sister was just an ornamental title between those with elven heritage, but you both remind me of my own sisters. They love each other, of course, but they're constantly--" His eyes narrow as a smirk crops up on his face, thoughts drifting back to how Birel and Selissa had sniped back and forth at one another from the beginning. "Is that...you are not real sisters, obviously, but is that how you think of her?" Set asks, his tone a mixture of self-satisfaction and wonder. He hadn't thought her capable of keeping secrets or saying anything she didn't wholeheartedly mean, but his smile locks in place as Set convinces himself he's uncovered his North Star's true feelings towards Evergreen.

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16 HP: 20/20 PP: 13 PIv: 13 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor Concentration: -- Birel shakes her head and replies, "After all this time of us being the only two elves in this small village and her never bothering to spend time to speak with me, she opened her mouth to mock another's failures. I simply felt obliged to help put her foot the rest of the way into her mouth."

[purepolarpanzer]

In Weldry's Store

Unfortunately it seems the looters have gotten the best of the remaining goods in the abandoned store. Much of what Vargath remembers has already been taken. Of the items left behind, the only things of note besides the mechanical dragon toys are a pair of spectacles that miraculously haven't been broken in the violence and looting and a light crossbow that has some interesting carvings in the stock. Besides these things there is little of value to mark the passage of the lone general goods store in Dam'ess. With a little more than they came in with, the party leaves to find the mysterious cabin.

In the Hartswood

The summer sun still beats down, unmercifully hot, but the cover of the trees cools travel for a few degrees, at least. The forest, seemingly ignorant of the dark happenings around the village, is filled with singing birds and small wildlife, fully on display for the trek to the deepest parts of the wood. The party has to pause to allow a large skunk to cross the path, and later on they scare a fox that had it's muzzle buried deep into a hole, sending it yipping and screeching into the trees. As you all progress, the map you have been provided leads you onto a small side trail that is overgrown and seems rarely used. The track leads into the most untamed parts of the forest, with no sign of the interference of civilization.

While travelling on this path, as the group nears the area designated for the missing cabin on the map, Selissa and Vargath both happen to be looking into the same area of the forest at the same time when their eyes catch the glint of sunlight on metal. Looking closer, they see a small ravine to their right, which contains a single occupant. A massive stag, easily the size of an moose, but graceful as a butterfly, stands next to a small stream. At first glance it could be mistaken for copper colored, but to the trained eyes of the wood elf and half-orc the green patina of copper left exposed to the elements can be made out in patches where a normal beast would have fur. No fur glimmers so brightly in the dappling sunlight, either. The creature leans down and dips it's mouth into the stream, and when it does Vargath alone makes out something grisly- the points of this metal animal's antlers are as sharp as spears, and covered in a red, rust-like crust of gore. The beast has not noticed any of you yet.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

History checks, please. Either in the Discord, OOC, or in spoilers.

[Amnestic]

Vargath waves the party to a halt, silently either gesturing or tapping their shoulders to get attention before pointing at the stag. No normal animal, that was for sure. He'd encountered magical creatures before, and read about many of those he hadn't seen personally, though how much he retained...well, that was another matter. Still, he felt that this one was familiar to him. It brought to mind late evening conversations with Sam - staying up long past when they should be sleeping, chattering the night away about this or that. Neither had specifically gone to study magical creatures, but as a side-class Sam had cultivated a previously unknown interest in them. Their darkened room lit only by embers of a snoozing fire, a comfortable engulfing warmth. The scent of dusty books and freshly cleaned robes. The occasional creak of wood or sound of boot on stone in the distance. The passion of his mind that had- "ᛗᛁᛊᛏᛖᚱ ᛞᛖᚷ ᛊᛖᛚᚢ ᛁ ᛗᛁᚾᚾᛖᛏ." Right, yes. Probably not the best time to be strolling down memory lane, especially a regretful road like that.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

23 history roll from discord. Vargath's really more of a thinking man's half-orc.

[Riggdgames]

Set Al-Sayyid Changeling Fighter/Hexblade AC: 16 HP: 25/27 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- Set had at various times complained of the cold in his travels, but he'd yet to complain of the heat. Even as the sweat fairly ran down his back and his face, he embraced it much like a child wrapped in their favorite blanket. Warmth filled him and buoyed his spirits, keeping his mind off the ills that plagued him as they tramped through the forest. Following Vargath's signal, Set comes to a halt behind him, only then seeing the enormous stag taking water by the stream. Swallowing an involuntary gasp at its size and recognizing nothing of its gracefulness, Set looks back and forth between Vargath and the stag. He had traveled with the half-orc for only a short time, but Set felt certain he knew what was coming next. He muttered a sweet-nothing to his Favorite, holding her close and preparing to charge after Vargath if need be. Spoiler Show History: (1d20)[18]

[Awful]

In the store, Selissa picked up the crossbow and turned it over in her hands. Human artifice, it seemed clumsy and crude next to her bow. Perhaps the forest spirits would be more interested in it? There would be little harm in taking it, she supposed, and perhaps it might even come in handy if the hunter only had silvered bolts; leaf knows there might not be time to get them reheaded onto proper arrows.

---

When Vargath indicated for the party to stop, Selissa had already begun melting into the underbrush in the way of the wood elves, the green of her hair melding into the undergrowth. She palmed an arrow from her quiver, and set it lightly on her bowstring, but didn't draw it back, yet - she had little idea of what that metal deer was, but her natural suspiscion told her it was dangerous. Sorcery such as that was something for Birel and the like to sort out.