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

[Awful]

Selissa's eyes darted back and forth as the scorpion grew to larger size. She recognised it - by description, if not by sight, having never been to the sand-drenched southern lands - as a night scorpion, unoriginally named but still deadly with paralytic poison.

There was no time to worry about the two companions suddenly turned into statues - they'd have to complete this fight without the forest-brother and the cursed young man.

Without much space or advantage to using a bow, she wrapped a wooden hand around the hilt of her sabre. A passing thought drew notice to that this was the first time she'd draw it in anger for years as it slid out the wooden sheath, a leaf-shaped blade of elven steel. The grip felt alien in her hand.

Without a word, she took several rapid steps forward and swung with the slash-drag cutting motion that would let a child hew off limbs if done correctly...

... only for it to screech nothing more than a bold white line against the carapace of the scorpion's leg where she'd failed to get the joint. With a tch! of annoyance, she agilely leapt back out of reach of any scything claw or stinging tail.

Spoiler

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Attacked, missed, BA disengage through cunning action back some distance out of reach.

[purepolarpanzer]

In Castle Crabapple

Vargath's axe chips the chitin of the beast and releases a splash of umber ichor that stains the blade. The scorpion manages to shuffle away from the worst of Birel's galactic assault, but Set's spear also draws the strange blood of the creature. The scorpion's eyes roll in Set's direction, and then the vermin skitters a few steps away from him, claws raised and tail arcing high, apparently wary of the spear wielding warrior.

Spoiler

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The scorpion tries and fails to shake off Set's wrathful smite. Back to all of you.

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16 HP: 20/20 PP: 13 PIv: 13 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor, Dragon's Breath Concentration: Dragon's Breath (lightning, 1/10) Seeing nothing wrong with her plan so far, Birel issues forth another charged breath of starstuff. Spoiler Show Dragon's Breath action. 15 foot cone of (3d6)[14] lightning damage. DC 13 Dex save for half.

[Amnestic]

With the scorpion on the defensive, Vargath presses the attack while watching to not be caught in Birel's magic. Even as he's swinging his singing, if slightly dirtied blade at the arachnid the storm rune inscribed on his armour hums to life. "ᛈᚨᚲᚨᛚᛚᛖ ᛏᛟᚱᛞᛖᚾ!" he bellows as trails of runic letters stream from his chest, circling up in a spiral around his body to form a fresh halo above his head, glimmering with attractive magic, practically begging his opponent to target him - and not the others.

When he sees Selissa off to one side preparing for another attack, Vargath brings his shield hand up to the halo, gripping it the letters of magic as one might with a thin sheet of paper, and flinging it at the elf's weapon. The runes stream across the battlefield as a glorious shining ribbon, entwining themselves up and down the length of Selissa's weapon. It doesn't guide her, so to speak, her actions are still her own, but the runes do help her focus, to make the decision she wanted to make all along, calling with magic to bring death to their enemy.

Spoiler: Actions

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Move (if required): To maintain melee range with the scorpion.
Action - Attack: (1d20+5)[19] Damage (1d8+5)[13]+(1d6)[2]
Bonus Action: Invoke Uvar

Spoiler: Uvar

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Uvar (Storm Rune). Using this rune, you can glimpse the future like a storm giant. While wearing or carrying an object inscribed with this rune, you have advantage on Intelligence (Arcana) checks, and you can’t be surprised as long as you are not incapacitated.In addition, you can invoke the rune as a bonus action to enter a prophetic state for 1 minute or until you’re incapacitated. Until the state ends, when you or another creature you can see within 60 feet of you makes an attack roll, a saving throw, or an ability check, you can use your reaction to cause the roll to have advantage or disadvantage. Once you invoke the rune, you can’t do so again until you finish a short or long rest.

Pre-emptive Reaction: When Selissa attacks, grant her Advantage on the attack.

[Riggdgames]

Set Al-Sayyid Changeling Fighter/Hexblade AC: 16 HP: 25/27 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9 Conditions: -- Concentration: Wrathful Smite As the point of his spear drives into the beast, Set can feel his Favorite pulse with energy, a cackle of laughter breaking out in his mind. The spear is unpleasantly cold, but neither the laughter nor the chill shake Set from his purpose. As the scorpion skitters away from the spear wreathed in darkness, Set presses the attack, lunging forward. The part of his mind that might urge caution or obsess over the flash of its tail dripping with venom is silent. There is only the creature's blood on his hands, a bit of warmth on cold fingers, driving him closer. Spoiler: OOC Show Move: Into melee as needed, but avoid Birel's cone Action: Spear attack (2H): (1d20+3)[18] Damage: (1d8+3)[7] piercing + (1d6)[5] psychic Bonus Action: Polearm master attack: (1d20+3)[4] Damage: (1d4+3)[7] piercing + (1d6)[2] psychic Spoiler: Polearm Master Show Spear (Favorite): 5ft reach, +5 attack, 1d8+3 dmg (includes 1 sanity dmg to Cha). While you are wielding a spear, other creatures provoke an opportunity attack from you when they enter your reach. When you take the attack action with a spear you can use a bonus action to make a melee attack with the other end of the weapon. The damage die is a d4 (add attribute modifiers as normal) and deals bludgeoning damage. Otherwise, this attack functions just as if you attacked with the weapon in question. Spoiler: Wrathful Smite Show DC 13 Wis or frightened The next time you hit with a melee weapon attack during this spell’s duration, your attack deals an extra 1d6 psychic damage. Additionally, if the target is a creature, it must make a Wisdom saving throw or be frightened of you until the spell ends. As an action, the creature can make a Wisdom check against your spell save DC to steel its resolve and end this spell.

[Awful]

Selissa paused only for a second as the magic Vargath threw her way gleamed in antediluvian runes. Without hesitation she darted forward again, and her blade was almost pulled towards one of the creature's joints, slicing deep this time and unleashing a bunch of orange-white ichor from inside the limb.

Spoiler

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15 to hit, 9 damage, BA disengage and move back as per last turn

[purepolarpanzer]

In Castle Crabapple

The scorpion reels under the assault of the party's magic and weapon attacks, ichor flying and chitin shattering. But Set's second smite dismisses the effect of the first, and the scorpion, freed of the fear, rallies forward for it's own assault. One claw snaps out at Vargath, but his armor deflects the worst of blow. The other claw shoots out and snaps around Set's waist, holding him fast. With it's prey held in place, the stinger flashes down and impales the hex warrior's shoulder, pumping a dose of virulent venom into the changeling. It burns through his veins and his vision fogs, but he is able to power through the venom's effects.

Spoiler: OOC

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Scorpion (finally) saves vs. wrathful smite. A claw attack misses Vargath. The other hits Set for 5 damage, who is now grappled (DC 12). The stinger also hits Set for 5 damage, then 6 poison damage, but he saves vs. blindness and paralysis.

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16 HP: 20/20 PP: 13 PIv: 13 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor, Dragon's Breath Concentration: Dragon's Breath (lightning, 2/10) Birel breathes out another electrified nebula cloud, this time it's brilliant red and purple. Spoiler Show Dragon's Breath action. 15 foot cone of (3d6)[9] lightning damage. DC 13 Dex save for half.

[Amnestic]

With Selissa's attack concluded the halo of runes reforms above Vargath, just in time for him to see Set skewered and pincered by the scorpion. Now wasn't really the time to vocalise silver linings but it did mean Set wouldn't have any issues reaching the monstrosity, and it kept a claw occupied. He tries to square up in its face, bellowing "I'm the one you're after," in an effort to distract the beast's poisonous prick from striking Set a second time. At the same time he swings down, aiming at the joint on the unoccupied pincer. If Set was...'distracting' one, he could try to remove the other entirely.

For a second time he flings the ribbon of runes to entwine Selissa's weapon. "Again! Same as before!" He calls to her, hoping it would be enough to seal the beast's defeat

Spoiler: Actions

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Move: Same as before - maintaining melee as needed, staying out of AoE.
Attack: (1d20+5)[12] Damage: (1d8+5)[12]+(1d6)[3]
Bonus Action: None.

Pre-emptive Reaction: Granting advantage on Selissa's next attack.

[Riggdgames]

Set Al-Sayyid Changeling Fighter/Hexblade AC: 16 HP: 20/27 ow PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9 Conditions: Grappled (f*cking scorpions) Concentration: -- Set's eyes widen in surprise as the Night Scorpion overcomes its fear, lashing out with claw and tail as Set's shadow suddenly begins to drip out of his Favorite, reforming slowly at his feet. He tries to block the stinger, but only manages to deflect it away from his heart as it sinks into his shoulder. Crying out in pain, Set stares up at the monstrosity as it holds him in place, his vision tunneling for a moment as the venom burns within his veins. Instead of sending him to his knees, however, it kindles a new flame as Set seethes with rage. As the stinger withdraws, Set bats it aside and plunges his spear towards the creature, roaring out in his fury. Spoiler: OOC Show Move: ha Bonus Action: Second Wind heal (1d10+2)[11] Action: Spear attack (2H): (1d20+3)[9] Damage: (1d8+3)[5] piercing Spoiler: Second Wind Show You have a limited well of stamina that you can draw on to protect yourself from harm. On Your Turn, you can use a Bonus Action to regain Hit Points equal to 1d10 + your Fighter level. Once you use this feature, you must finish a short or Long Rest before you can use it again. Spoiler: Polearm Master Show Spear (Favorite): 5ft reach, +5 attack, 1d8+3 dmg (includes 1 sanity dmg to Cha). While you are wielding a spear, other creatures provoke an opportunity attack from you when they enter your reach. When you take the attack action with a spear you can use a bonus action to make a melee attack with the other end of the weapon. The damage die is a d4 (add attribute modifiers as normal) and deals bludgeoning damage. Otherwise, this attack functions just as if you attacked with the weapon in question.

[Awful]

Selissa was abruptly besides Set, the point of her blade buried deep inside the joint for the claw holding him.
"<Let go!>" she snarled in Elvish as she twisted the blade, sending a tremble of pain through the scorpion, but the claw remained resolutely clamped around Ser's midsection. Having failed to make it let go, she darted backwards with flowing footsteps, ready to strike forward again.

Spoiler

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19 damage to the scorpion, BA disengage, move back, you know the drill.

[purepolarpanzer]

In Castle Crabapple

The scorpion again scuttles away from the worst of Birel's lightning, snapping it's free claw menacingly. Set and Vargath's attacks are deflected by the creature's chitin, but Selissa's saber chops down into the flesh of the beast, sending up a gout of blood that paints her armor a sickly transparent yellow. Leaking fluids from numerous wounds, the scorpion appears to be on it's last legs, but it's arachnid eyes show no signs of fear of death. Instead it lashes out with renewed fury- one claw snaps out and catches Vargath's leg, clamping painfully through his armor to bruise flesh and hold him tight. The other claw attempts to squeeze Set, but perhaps due to it's injury from Selissa the claw doesn't manage to do any appreciable damage. It's stinger lashes out at Vargath's face with lightning speed, but he manages to deflect it over his shoulder with a bat of his axe.

Spoiler: OOC

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One claw hits Vargath for 10 (max damage) and he is now grappled (DC 12). One claw fails to damage Set, but he is still grappled. The stinger misses Vargath by an inch. The scorpion's health bar is now flashing a dark red. In the words of Shao Khan "FINISH HIM!"

[Awful]

The scorpion's claws were full, and Selissa saw her chance. Her eyes narrowed

Fearlessly she darted forward, between Vargath and Set, and vaulted on to the scorpion's back. She ducked under its attempt to sting and lifted her sabre before she plunged it down right between its chitin plates into its brain.

Even then it didn't die; she grabbed the handle of the sword with both hands and hauled, and the blade came free with a disgusting squelch.

The scorpion collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, and Selissa leapt off while it fell to land silently besides it. She looked down at the fallen arachnid. It had fought hard to live, as all things must. She bore it no ill will.
"<Your spirit to the sky,>" she whispered, closing her eyes for just a second.

She flicked her sword to get some of the goop off, and looked down at the ichor covering it, her arm, stomach, and chest with annoyance.
"Tch. Why bows are better," she grumbled.

[purepolarpanzer]

In Castle Crabapple

For the entire duration of the fight, the Fey Lord clapped, gaped, and chuckled, seemingly cheering on both his own champion and the party. As the scorpion falls dead to the ground, he begins clapping fervently and grinning ear to ear with his pointed teeth. "Good, good! A good bout! Supremely entertaining! I commend you, mortals!" With a wave of his hand the scorpion shrinks down to it's original size, now simply a small and broken bug. Striding off his throne, the Lord of Change nimbly moves forward, his final step coming down on the remains of his champion and crushing it into the stone. "We'll see how you fare next time! And I promise you, there will be a next time! I've taken a liking to you mortals, and I wish to be entertained by you again!" He looks over all of you, his mouth seeming to grow and his grin extend almost to his ears. "But for now I am.... satisfied." He gives a full body shudder and closes his eyes as he looks over Vargath, licking his lips. "As the victors, you've earned the boon you fought for. Here you are, my friend." Reaching behind his back, he brings his hand forth and presents to Vargath an acorn in his open palm. "Simply plant this where it belongs where the hunter's house should be and it will blossom into your prize. Hunter included, whole and hale." After the seed is taken, the Fey Lord all but prances back to his throne and takes a seat. "Now off with you all! You have WERES to fight. Another epic battle, to be sure. But unfortunately I haven't the time to witness this one. So much to do, and so little time. Goodbye, goodbye, and good luck, my friends. Until we meet again!" With that, the guards at the door leading down out of the tree swing it open, leaving your path back to the forest open to you.

[Amnestic]

Vargath is unfulfilled, cheated from the killing blow - or so it feels to him. Even as he takes the acorn his blood sings with fire to kill and kill again. He sees it in his mind eye - ramming the acorn into the gloating fey's eye and then a quick snap of the neck. The satisfying snap. The heavy slump of the body dropping to the ground. The screams of horror and cheer from the onlookers. He sees it all, and for a moment he's ready to do it. The giant's might still pulses through him, he didn't need to snap, he could simply wrap a single hand around the fey's skull and squish it, shattering the skull like an overgrown egg. Maybe he should grasp the scorpion's body, swing it by its stinger to beat him into the floor. The Lord of Dead Scorpions killed by his new namesake.

The myriad of scenarios, rushing through his mind, lets him act out the more destructive impulses in private, without harming their mission. With deep, measured breaths he pulls them back, to cool his blood. Instead he closes his hand over the acorn, pockets it and turns away. With the battle concluded and only a minor injury on his part he strides purposefully over to Set, giving the fey no satisfaction of a response and instead addressing the party. "A good kill." He doesn't voice his dissatisfaction at losing the killing blow himself. It was his own fault for being slow. Selissa's blade struck true, and his own inadequacies shouldn't - wouldn't - reflect back to her. "We can patch up in the hunter's house once we've...regrown it." Set had taken more hits than he had but how hurt he was...he couldn't tell. He wasn't trained in any healer's arts.

Spoiler: OOC

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Expending Second Wind for (1d10+2)[4] healing.

[Riggdgames]

Set Al-Sayyid Changeling Fighter/Hexblade AC: 16 HP: 20/27 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- As Set's Favorite scrapes off the heavy chitin plate, he struggles to free himself from the creature's claw, grunting with exertion. Without warning, a flash of green darts in front of him, her elven blade sending a shower of the beast's ichor raining down on them both. "<Let go!>" Too caught by surprise to sieze the advantage, Set feels the claw renew its grip, scale mail screeching in protest as the creature squeezes. Flowing like the waters of life but silent as death, Set watches as Evergreen darts out of reach before siezing her opening. The claw goes slack around Set as she leaps clear of the scorpion, landing softly on her feet. The rage of battle was slow to leave at first, but even with the pain-fueled fury still upon him Set couldn't ignore the thoughts creeping back into his mind. She'd fought to free him. She could've hung back and filled the creature with arrows, but she'd waded into the thick of it to help him. Set's thoughts swirl as the Liar fills their ears with praise, voice dripping honey but reminding him of filth. He'd bathed this morning, and yet he suddenly felt the urge to seek out a river or a spring. The Mighty breaks into his thoughts, releasing him from the Lord's influence. "A good kill. We can patch up in the hunter's house once we've...regrown it." Even through bruised ribs and the wound dripping blood from his shoulder, Set can't stop a smile that reaches his eyes. He claps the Mighty on his powerful shoulder, a bark of laughter escaping as the elation of victory overtakes him. "Let's quit this place before the Lord of Change can change his mind." Set's eyes stray to his North Star as she stands apart, proudly orchestrating the movement of the planets in her orbit. Forces beyond his understanding were clearly at play around these three. Feeling brave in their company and still drunk on their triumph, Set turns back and offers the Liar a farewell before exiting. "Fare thee well, Lord! Until we meet again."

[Awful]

Selissa merely finished wiping the gunk off her sword before she pushed it back into the sheath, the elf steel whispering a sibilant hiss before the hilt clicked to a stop against the mouth of the scabbard.

She didn't say a word to the Liar, merely turned to leave.

Hopefully the Hunter's house had a bath.

[purepolarpanzer]

Outside Castle Crabapple

The party exits as they came in, climbing down the spiral stairs and ending up outside the extradimensional tree. As soon as the last of you has exited the tree, the sound of wood bending fills the glade. The tree begins to shrink, but it doesn't take long to realize it is actually reversing. The tree quickly grows smaller, thinner, and younger until it is no more than a sapling, then continues until it is nothing more than a seed on the ground. In a flash of yellow and black movement Chix dives down, picks up the seed, and flits away into the wilderness, Castle Crabapple in tow. This leaves you all alone in the glade with your acorn prize ready to plant.

[Amnestic]

He was glad to see the back of the fey and their unimpressive tricks. He considers shooting a bolt at the retreating bird, perhaps leaving the Lord of Dead Scorpions trapped in his tiny seed, but chances are it didn't work that way and it would only complicate matters. Instead he turns the the space where the house should be. Palming the acorn Vargath paces along the edge in an attempt to best judge where the 'middle' of the house would be. He draws lines with his eyes and hands, before concluding it's probably the right spot and honestly what's the worst that could happen?

With what's probably the right spot he crouches, scuffing away grass and mud with the bottom of his axe grip before dropping the acorn into the small hole and piling the dirt back over. He wasn't sure how long it would take to regrow the house but he keeps an eye on it as he half jogs away back to the edge of the home, waiting for the magic to happen.

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16 HP: 20/20 PP: 13 PIv: 13 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor Concentration: -- Once Castle Crabapple is off Birel lets out the breath she's been holding, though it comes out more like a belch and a stream of starstuff that spews into the sky like the smoke from a bonfire. "That could have been worse." she comments to the group as a whole and then thinks to add, "And probably will be the next time we encounter them." Turning to Set she holds out a hand and says, "Given they haven't returned to their natural state by now do you mind if I hold onto our companions? I think I out of all of us have the best chance of figuring out how to remove the curse they're under." Of course while this is true, her concern is more than she doesn't trust what Set's dark master would ask him to do to them and would rather not risk him being compelled to kill them when it was a simple matter of prevention that he couldn't reasonably refuse at the moment.

[purepolarpanzer]

At the Site of Chevvile's Cabin

The magic does not take long. As soon as Vargath plants the seed he barely has time to get out of the way before a cabin erupts from the small hole, almost immediately taking up the entirety of the empty space left behind by Fey magic. It's not in pristine condition, with broken boards stained by rain and time, but for all intents and purposes it is a three room cabin with a small porch, upon which sits a rocking chair and a half-finished glass of clear alcohol that hasn't even spilled. The door doesn't seem to fit quite right in it's frame (possibly a side effect of the gigantification process), and hangs slightly open. From inside you can all hear the sound of heavy snoring. A battered old tom cat escapes out the front door, gives the four of you a sour, judgmental look, and dashes off into the forest, presumably to hunt.

[Amnestic]

Vargath watches the cat go with a little bit of concern. Far worse than it roamed the woods, and it might find itself on the fang-end of a werewolf if it wasn't careful. Hopefully it would be fine though, and keeping the cat safe was a little outside of their current goal - assuming, of course, that it wasn't yet another fey creature transformed. Leaving Birel and Set to deal with their miniaturised companions Vargath steps up onto the porch and bangs loudly with his fist three times on the door, letting it swing open from the force, though not stepping across the threshold. The knocking is loud enough that it may attract attention from beyond the clearing, but he wanted to be sure he was heard. "Hunter! We have need of your weapons!" he calls inside in his deep chesty voice. A man who lives alone with an arsenal of silver weapons in a wood beset by a magical menagerie was probably not one to sneak up on, he reasoned, and it was likely better to announce themselves rather than enter only to be caught in the act.

[Riggdgames]

Set Al-Sayyid Changeling Fighter/Hexblade AC: 16 HP: 20/27 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- Set watches the fey's herald fly off, wondering when they would meet the Lord of Change next. He'd promised they would meet again, and it did not feel to Set as though the Liar had stuck to his namesake. A day would come when they would come face to face with him again. Perhaps there would be many such days. Much like the moments when his coin flipped through the air, the sight of the fey-birdling flying away revealed much. Set found that he wanted that day to come. The Liar was a master of slaves, their torture-filled lives expended for his entertainment. He kept his tools near at hand and used them until he was done, delighting in discarding them and crushing them under his own feet. A part of Set rebelled at the dangerous course his thoughts were taking, but even as caution started to retake control, the Three nearby inspired one last dangerous idea. If he stayed with the Three long enough, they might be able to confront the Liar together someday. Set's mouth twitches, nostrils flaring as the thought sticks in his mind. He wanted this. He wanted to watch the Liar collapse under the weight of the Mighty's blows. He wanted to watch his North Star bring the heavens crashing down on the Liar while Evergreen rose up from the earth to slice him in two. Set gulps, breath coming faster as he imagines the Lord of Change torn apart by the Three. For a brief instant, a shadow falls over the Liar, his form wreathed in darkness before Set twitches hard, palms rising to his eyes as he wills the image away quickly. He shakes his head, and looks around for anything to occupy his mind. Thankfully his North Star isn't far, anticipating Set's need. "Given they haven't returned to their natural state by now do you mind if I hold onto our companions? I think I out of all of us have the best chance of figuring out how to remove the curse they're under." Of course! Jemriah and Fanlomen were still in his pouch. Even after their exit from the Liar's keep, they'd remained in the fey lord's power. Set reaches in, pulling out both figurines and the coin. Without reservation, he passes Jemriah and Fanlomen to his North Star. "Can you fix them?" he asks, eyes widening in reverence of her powers. He may not have favored Jemriah or Fanlomen upon first meeting them, but now he felt a certain kinship with the fellow victims of a master.

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16 HP: 20/20 PP: 13 PIv: 13 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor Concentration: -- Birel studies the figurines for a moment to see how best to answer Set's question. Eventually she shakes her head and replies with a frown, "Certainly not immediately. Quite unfortunate to have our numbers so reduced right before having to battle such fearsome opponents."

[Riggdgames]

Set Al-Sayyid Changeling Fighter/Hexblade AC: 16 HP: 20/27 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- Set listens attentively, nodding solemnly as his North Star relates her inability to do anything for Jemriah and Fanlomen right this moment. Rather than his faith being diminished, Set latches onto the key word. She couldn't do anything for them immediately, but she would guide them out of their peril soon enough. Looking from the Mighty to Evergreen, Set responds, "our numbers are reduced, it's true, but I'll not doubt the three of you anytime soon, whatever may come." The statement is punctuated with a genuinely warm smile, his mouth set in place without the slightest twitch. As the Mighty calls out for Milo, Set turns his attention to the newly formed home. "Come, let's find out who we risked life and limb fighting for," he says, walking over to the entrance. "Milo Cheville?" he calls out, fairly certain no one could sleep through the half-orc's knocking, "we are friends of Maus Moeller! May we enter?"

[Awful]

Selissa gave Vargath a glance as he shouted. She would, personally, have preferred to look around silently inside before waking the man. She listened to her comrades' conversation, and acknowledged it with a nod of her head, barely more than a twitch, as she cast a wary eye on the forest around them. For another moment, she squinted at the shadows, seeing if much time had passed relative to how it felt inside Castle Crabapple; while she suspected such trickery wasn't the Lord of Size's amusement, one could never be sure with such creatures as the fey.

[purepolarpanzer]

Chevvile's Cabin

Time seems to have passed normally, with the sun only moving a small amount since the time you entered the Fey Lord's castle. If anything it would seem that slightly LESS time has passed than what normally would, though that may simply be a trick of the light. As Vargath and Set shout into the cabin the snoring inside comes to a halt. There is a loud impact inside, followed by cursing and oaths as it sounds as though someone has climbed up off the floor. Then there are loud footsteps from a hard soled shoe. "I'm coming! I'm coming! If you are friends of Moeller than show it by not breaking my door down!" The door swings outward with enough speed that it is difficult to dodge and enough force that it is good you did, slamming into the wall with an impact that nearly rattles it off it's hinges.

Standing before you is a man awoken from years of sleep. His beard is long and unkept, his hair falls down to his waist, a midnight black with streaks of grey. There are cobwebs and dust over all of his clothes, and by the way he blinks against the light he has been in a deep sleep all these years his cabin has been missing. Though his features and wrinkled and spotted with age, Milo Chevvile's body is strong and vital, with muscles that bulge through his clothing. He takes a set of wire half-rim spectacles off of his nose and rubs the dust off on his sleeve before replacing them. "If you came for my weapons, then the damn weres must be back. I thought I'd killed the last of them, but like rats there are always more you can't see, hiding in the walls and under the floorboards. It seems a man can't even sleep an afternoon without bad news being piled on top of bad news." He takes a moment to stretch, and when he does he seems to realize how long his hair and beard have grown. Patting away the dust and cobwebs, he swallows and squeezes both hands into fists "It... it has just been an afternoon, hasn't it?" He looks up at all of you with shock and a touch of fear in his eyes.

[Awful]

"A little longer. Fey," Selissa said as an explanation. Of course, to an elf, it hadn't been that much longer, three years being pretty much nothing. She took a moment to look at the old man, seeing how he still seemed strong despite his retirement.
"Werewolves. Need to kill some."

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16 HP: 20/20 PP: 13 PIv: 13 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor Concentration: -- Birel steps forward and shakes her head a bit sadly, "Unfortunately as Selissa says, it's been quite a bit longer than that. A powerful fey took you, and your cabin, away for what I believe is close to thirty years. We convinced them to free you, because as you surmised, there is a pack of lycanthropes that threaten the village and we've been tasked with dealing with them." There's a brief pause before Birel almost mutters to herself, "Amidst a myriad of other problems."

[Amnestic]

Vargath nods along with the explanations. "You may wish to move out of the woods once our hunt has concluded." He doesn't stress the point yet, but he's already speaking with the assumption that Milo is assisting. Long hair and unkempt beard wouldn't stop him from helping, but Vargath's critical eye does bring concerns that the weapons may have suffered the ravages of time. "Thirty years is some time for your weapons to be left unmaintained. We should inspect them, and ensure they're still in working order."