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

[Awful]

Arrow nocked, string back, fire - and the arrow struck a line harmlessly across the monster's cheek, and Selissa hissed out a harsh breath.
She was failing. She was failing-

Would this be another Yurl?

Spoiler: ooc

Show

Terrible rolls in discord continue

[purepolarpanzer]

In The Depths of the Hartswood

Vargath's twin hammer blows make the alpha reel in pain as his weapon crunches bone and bruises flesh. While the creature is off balance it gets hit by both Birel's ice and Set's fire, causing all it's mouths to yelp in pain. Selissa's arrow deflects harmlessly, but Milo uses the opening to jab twice with his spear. One blow deflects off the creature's ribs but the second finally finds purchase and draws blood. The monster gives a savage roar and raises it's claw, hammering it down on Milo with enough force to leave scrapes across his silver breast plate, knocking the old man off his feet with awesome strength. Then the creature lashes out with it's teeth, only to be caught short. Milo's spear is still stuck in the beast, and for now it prevents the Alpha from biting Vargath. The old hunter flashes a grim smile at the half-orc before drawing a short sword. It is too early to celebrate victory, however. As the liquid flesh of the creature's legs continue to grow and spread, it begins wrapping around the legs of those nearby, attempting to hold them in place. One of the mouths spits a blob of phlegm into the air that seems to ignite in a bright flash of light, threatening to blind Vargath and Milo. And lastly the chorus of madness from the many mouths rises in pitch and volume over the sound of the warhorn, wearing on the sanity of all who hear it.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Milo took some damage, but the creature missed Vargath. Vargath and Milo need to roll a DC 13 Dexterity Save to avoid being blind for a round. Vargath, Milo, and Set need to roll a DC 10 Wisdom save or Suffer the Gibbering effect.

Spoiler: Gibbering

Show

Gibbering. The mouther babbles incoherently while it can see any creature and isn't incapacitated. Each creature that starts its turn within 20 feet of the mouther and can hear the gibbering must succeed on a DC 10 Wisdom saving throw. On a failure, the creature can't take reactions until the start of its next turn and rolls a d8 to determine what it does during its turn. On a 1 to 4, the creature does nothing. On a 5 or 6, the creature takes no action or bonus action and uses all its movement to move in a randomly determined direction. On a 7 or 8, the creature makes a melee attack against a randomly determined creature within its reach or does nothing if it can't make such an attack.

[Amnestic]

Vargath stumbles back as he's slightly two slow to close or cover his eyes, but it was his ears he should have been protecting - from the alpha's insane screeches. The floodgates on Vargath's mind open, and every frustrating whisper or random giantish tidbit streamed forth. Even as the caustic liquid light blind his eyes, the words of the giants unleashed blind his mind.

ᛞᛖ ᛊÅ ᛟᛈᛈ ᛗᛟᛏ ᚺᛁᛗᛗᛖᛚᛖᚾ ᛟᚷ ᛊÅ ᛖᚾ ᛗᛁᛚᛚᛁᛟᚾ ᛊᛏᛃᛖᚱᚾᛖᚱ. ᛃᛖᚷ ᛖᚱ ᚠᛟᚱᚢᛁᚱᚱᛖᛏ: ᚾÅᚱ ᚠᛟᛚᚲ ᛊᛈᚢᚱ ᛗᛖᚷ ᚺᚢᚨ ᛊᛟᛗ ᛊᚲᛃᛖᚱ, ᛟᚷ ᛃᛖᚷ ᛈᛖᚲᛖᚱ, ᛊᛏᚢᚾᚾᛖᚱ ᛞᛖ. ᛃᛖᚷ ᛖᚱ ᚠᛟᚱᚢᛁᚱᚱᛖᛏ: ᚾÅᚱ ᚠᛟᛚᚲ ᛊᛈᚢᚱ ᛗᛖᚷ ᚺᚢᚨ ᛊᛟᛗ ᛊᚲᛃᛖᚱ, ᛟᚷ ᛃᛖᚷ ᛈᛖᚲᛖᚱ, ᛊᛏᚢᚾᚾᛖᚱ ᛞᛖ. ᚠᛁᛊᚲᛖᚾ ᛞᚱᚢᛗᛏᛖ ᛟᛗ Å ᚢᚾᚾᛊᛚᛁᛈᛈᛖ ᚠᛁᛊᚲᛖᛒᛟᛚᛚᛖᚾ ᛟᚷ ᛁᚾᚾ ᛈÅ ᛏᛟᚨᛚᛖᛏᛏᛖᛏ ᚺᚢᛟᚱ ᚺᚨᚾ ᛊÅ ᚲᚨᛗᛖᚱᚨᛏᛖᚾ ᚷÅ. ᚺᚨᚾ ᚢᛏᛗᛖᚱᚲᛖᛏ ᛊᛖᚷ ᚢᛖᛞ Å ᛊᛁ ᛟᛈᛈ ᚠᛟᛚᚲ ᛈᛖᚾᛏ. ᚢÅᚲᚾᛖᛏ ᛒᚨᚲ ᛒÅᛏᛖᚾ ᚠᛟᚱᛏᚨᛚᛏᛖ ᛟᛗ ᚠᛟᚱᛏᛁᛞᛖᚾ ᛗᛖᚾᛊ ᛞᛖᛏ Åᛈᚾᛖ ᚺᚨᚢᛖᛏ ᚠᛟᚱ ᚠᛟᚱᛏᚨᛚᛏᛖ ᛟᛗ ᛚᛁᚢᛖᛏ ᛁ ᛞᛖᚾ ᚢᚲᛃᛖᚾᛏᛖ ᚠᚱᛖᛗᛏᛁᛞᛖᚾ. ᛞᚨᚾ ᛊᛈᛁᛊᛏᛖ ᛊᚲᛁᛖᚾᛖ ᛊᛟᛗ ᛊᚢᚲᚲᛖᚱᛊᛈᛁᚾᚾ. ᚱᛖᚷᚾᛖᛏ ᚲᚨᛊᛏᛖᛏ ᚠᚱᛟᚾᛏᚱᚢᛏᛖᚾ ᛗᛖᚾᛊ ᛗᚢᚱᚲᛖᛏ ᛊᛚᚢᚲᛏᛖ ᛟᛊᛊ. ᛞᚢ ᛖᚱ ᚷᛟᛞ ᛈÅ ᛖᛜᛖᛚᛊᚲ ᚾÅᚱ ᛞᚢ ᚢᛖᛏ ᚠᛟᚱᛊᚲᛃᛖᛚᛚᛖᚾ ᛗᛖᛚᛚᛟᛗ ᛖᚾ ᛗᚨᚾᚾ ᛊᛟᛗ ᛊᛈᛁᛊᛖᚱ ᚲᛁᛚᛚᛁᛜ ᛟᚷ ᛖᚾ ᛗᚨᚾᚾ-ᛊᛈᛁᛊᛖᚱ ᚲᛁᛚᛚᛁᛜ. ᚾᛟᛖᚾ ᚷᚨᛜᛖᚱ ᛊᛏᛁᚱᚱᛖᚱ ᛃᛖᚷ ᛈÅ ᛖᚾ ᛞᚢᚱ ᛖᛚᛚᛖᚱ ᛖᚾ ᚢᛖᚷᚷ ᛟᚷ ᛚᚢᚱᛖᚱ ᛈÅ ᚺᚢᚨ ᛊᛟᛗ ᛖᚱ ᛞᛖᚾᚾᛖ ᚢᛁᚱᚲᛖᛚᛁᚷᚺᛖᛏᛖᚾ, ᚺᚢᛟᚱᚠᛟᚱ ᛚᛖᚢᛖᚱ ᛃᛖᚷ, ᛟᚷ ᚺᚢᚨ ᚺᚨᚾᛞᛚᛖᚱ ᛞᛖᛏᛏᛖ ᛟᛗ? ᛞᛖᚾ ᛏᛖᚱᛏᛖ ᛚᛁᛗᛟᚾᚨᛞᛖᚾ ᛊᛚᚢᚲᚲᛖᛏ ᛏᚢᚱᛊᛏᛖᚾ, ᛗᛖᚾ ᛁᚲᚲᛖ ᚺᛖᚾᚾᛖᛊ ᛚᛖᛜᛊᛖᛚ. ᛞᛖ ᛖᚲᛊᛏᛖᚱᚾᛖ ᚨᚱᚱᛖᚾᛖ ᚠᛟᚱᛏᛖᛚᛚᛖᚱ ᛒᚨᚱᛖ ᛖᚾ ᛞᛖᛚ ᚨᚢ ᚺᛁᛊᛏᛟᚱᛁᛖᚾ. ᚱᛖᚢᛖᚾ ᛁ ᛏᛟᛈᚺᚨᛏᛖᚾ ᚺᚢᛁᛊᚲᛖᛏ ᛁᚾᚾ ᛁ ᚢᚱᛖᛏ ᛈÅ ᚲᚨᚾᛁᚾᛖᚾ. ᛊᚺᚨᚲᛖᛊᛈᛖᚨᚱᛖ ᚢᚨᚱ ᛖᚾ ᚲᛃᛖᚾᛏ ᛞᛁᛖᛊᛖᛚᛗᛖᚲᚨᚾᛁᚲᛖᚱ ᚠᚱᚨ ᛏᚨᛚᛚᛖᛏ. ᛗᚨᚢᚱᛖᛏ ᛚᛁᚲᛏᛖ ᚷᚱᛁᛚᛚᛖᚾ ᛗᛖᚱ ᛖᚾᚾ ᚠᚨᛗᛁᛚᛁᛖᚾ. ᚢᛁᚱᚢᛊᛖᛏ ᚺᚨᛞᛞᛖ ᚲᚱᛖᚠᛏᛖᚱ ᛊᛟᛗ ᛁᛜᛖᚾ ᚨᚢ ᛟᛊᛊ ᚢᛁᛊᛊᛏᛖ ᛖᚲᛊᛁᛊᛏᛖᚱᛏᛖ. ᚢᛚᛁᚲᛖ ᛊᛃᚢᚠᚢᚷᛚᛖᚱ ᛖᚱ ᛖᛚᛖᚷᚨᚾᛏᛖ, ᛗᛖᚾ ᛁᛜᛖᚾᛏᛁᛜ ᛖᚱ ᛚᛁᚲᛖ ᛖᛚᛖᚷᚨᚾᛏ ᛊᛟᛗ ᛖᚾ ᚷᛚᛁᛞᛖᚾᛞᛖ ᛈᛖᛚᛁᚲᚨᚾ. ᛁᛏᚨᛚᛁᚨ ᛖᚱ ᛗᛁᛏᛏ ᚠᚨᚢᛟᚱᛁᛏᛏᛚᚨᚾᛞ; ᚠᚨᚲᛏᛁᛊᚲ ᛈᛚᚨᚾᛚᛖᚷᚷᛖᚱ ᛃᛖᚷ Å ᛏᛁᛚᛒᚱᛁᛜᛖ ᛏᛟ ᚢᚲᛖᚱ ᛞᛖᚱ ᚾᛖᛊᛏᛖ Åᚱ. ᚺᚢᚾ ᚺᚨᛞᛞᛖ ᚨᛚᛚᛏᛁᛞ ᛖᛏ ᛁᚾᛏᛖᚱᛖᛊᛊᚨᚾᛏ ᛈᛖᚱᛊᛈᛖᚲᛏᛁᚢ ᛈÅ ᚺᚢᛟᚱᚠᛟᚱ ᚢᛖᚱᛞᛖᚾ ᛗÅ ᚢᛇᚱᛖ ᚠᛚᚨᛏ. ᛃᛖᚷ ᛊᛚᛁᛏᛖᚱ ᚲᚨᚾᛊᚲᛃᛖ ᛗᛖᛞ ᚷᛖᛟᚷᚱᚨᚠᛁ, ᛗᛖᚾ ᛃᛖᚷ ᛖᚱ ᛊᛁᚲᚲᛖᚱ ᛈÅ ᚨᛏ ᛃᛖᚷ ᛖᚱ ᛖᛏ ᛊᛏᛖᛞ ᚺᛖᚱ. ᛞᛖᚾ ᛊᛏᛟᚱᛖ ᛞᚨᚾᛊᚲᛖᚾ ᛚᛁᚷᚾᛖᛏ ᛗᛖᚱ ᛈÅ ᛖᚾ ᚺᛖᛊᛏ ᛖᚾᚾ ᛖᚾ ᚺᚢᚾᛞ. ᛏÅᚲᛖᚾ ᚢᚨᚱ ᛊÅ ᛏᛖᛏᛏ, ᛊᛖᛚᚢ ᛖᚾ ᛚᚨᛊᛖᚱ ᛒᛖᛊᛏᛖᛗᛏᛖ ᚨᛏ ᛞᛖᛏ ᛁᚲᚲᛖ ᚢᚨᚱ ᚢᛖᚱᛞᛏ ᛁᚾᚾᛊᚨᛏᛊᛖᚾ. ᛞᚨ ᚺᚢᚾ ᛁᚲᚲᛖ ᛚᛁᚲᛏᛖ ᛖᚾ ᚠᛁᚱ ᛊᛟᛗ ᛈᚱᚢᚢᛞᛖ Å ᚺᛖᚾᛏᛖ ᚺᛖᚾᚾᛖ, ᛒᛖᚷᛁᚾᛏᛖ ᚺᚢᚾ Å ᛒᚱᚢᚲᛖ ᛏᛖᚷᚾᛊᛈᚱÅᚲ. ᛈÅ ᛖᚾ ᛊᚲᚨᛚᚨ ᚠᚱᚨ ᛖᚾ ᛏᛁᛚ ᛏᛁ, ᚺᚢᚨ ᛖᚱ ᛞᛁᚾ ᚠᚨᚢᛟᚱᛁᛏᛏ ᛊᛗᚨᚲ ᚨᚢ ᛏᛁᛚᚠᛖᛚᛞᛁᚷ ᚷᚱᚨᛗᛗᚨᛏᛁᚲᚲ? ᚺᚨᚾ ᚠᚨᛗᛚᛖᛏ ᛁ ᛗᚢᚱᚲᛖᛏ ᛟᚷ ᛚᛖᛏᛏᛖ ᛖᛏᛏᛖᚱ ᛚᛁᛊᛒᚱᛁᛏᛖᚱᛖᚾ, ᛗᛖᚾ ᛞᚨ ᚺᚨᚾ ᛖᚾᛞᛖᛚᛁᚷ ᚠᚨᚾᛏ ᛞᛖᚾ, ᚢᚨᚱ ᛞᛖᛏ ᚾᛟᛖᚾ ᛊᛟᛗ ᚨᛚᛚᛖᚱᛖᛞᛖ ᚢᚨᚱ ᛞᛖᚱ. ᚺᚨᚾ ᛖᚱ ᚠᛚᛁᚾᚲ ᛏᛁᛚ Å ᛊᛈᛁᛊᛖ ᛊᛁᛚᛏᛖᚨᚷᚢᚱᚲ ᛟᚷ ᚠᛟᚱᛏᛖᛚᛚᛖ ᚲᚢᛁᚾᚾᛖᚱ ᛟᛗ ᛊᛁᚾᛖ ᚠᚢᛚᛖᛚᛊᛖᛊᛗᛖᛊᛊᛁᚷᛖ ᛈᚱᛟᛒᛚᛖᛗᛖᚱ. ᛁᚲᚲᛖ ᛈᛁᛊ ᛁ ᚺᚨᚷᛖᚾ ᛗᛁᚾ ᛟᚷ ᚠᛟᚱᛏᛖᛚᛚ ᛗᛖᚷ ᚨᛏ ᛞᚢ ᛈᚱᚢᚢᛖᚱ Å ᚺᛃᛖᛚᛈᛖ ᛈᛚᚨᚾᛏᛖᚾᛖ ᛗᛁᚾᛖ Å ᚢᛟᚲᛊᛖ. ᚲᚾᛁᚢᛖᚾᛖ ᚢᚨᚱ ᚢᛏᛖ, ᛟᚷ ᚺᚢᚾ ᛊᛚᛁᛈᛏ ᛊᛖᚷ. ᛞᚨᚢᛁᛞ ᛒᛚᛖ ᛊᛏᛟᛚᛏ ᚢᛏᛖᚲᛊᚨᛗᛁᚾᛖᚱᛏ ᚠᚱᚨ ᚢᛁᛞᛖᚱᛖᚷÅᛖᚾᛞᛖ ᛊᚲᛟᛚᛖ ᛁ ᛊᛁᚾ ᚲᛚᚨᛊᛊᛖ ᛁ ᛖᚾ ᚨᛚᛞᛖᚱ ᚨᚢ. ᛖᛏᛏᛖᚱ Å ᚺᚨ ᚲᛃᛖᛗᛈᛖᛏ ᛗᛟᛏ ᚨᛚᛚᛁᚷᚨᛏᛟᚱᛖᚾ, ᛗÅᛏᛏᛖ ᛒᚱᛁᚨᚾ ᚠᛟᚱᛏᛊᚨᛏᛏ ᛗᚢᛏᛖ ᚨᚾᚨᚲᛟᚾᛞᛇᚾ. ᛖᚾ ᛊᚨᛜ ᚲᚨᚾ ᚷᛃᚢᚱᛖ ᛖᛚᛚᛖᚱ ᚢᛞᛖᛚᛖᚷᚷᛖ ᛖᚾ ᛈᛖᚱᛊᛟᚾᛊ ᛞᚨᚷ ᚺᚢᛁᛊ ᛞᛖ ᛚᚨᚱ ᛞᛖᚾ ᚲᛟᛗᛗᛖ ᛏᛁᛚ ᛊᛖᚷ. ᚲᚢᛚᛖᚾ ᚷᛃᛖᚾᚾᛟᛗᛒᛟᚱᛖᛏ ᚢᛁᚾᛞᚢᛖᛏ ᛊᛟᛗ ᚲᚾᚢᛊᛏᛖ ᛞᛖᚾ ᚠᚢᚱ ᛞᛖᚾ ᛊᚨᚢᚾᛖᛏ ᚺᛟᛞᛖᛏ ᛏᛁᛚ ᛞᚨᚾᚾᛁ ᛒᚨᚱᛖ ᛗᛁᛚᛚᛁᛗᛖᛏᛖᚱ. ᚺᚨᛞᛞᛖ ᚺᚨᚾ ᚢᛁᛊᛊᛏ ᚺᚢᚨ ᛊᛟᛗ ᛊᚲᚢᛚᛚᛖ ᛊᚲᛃᛖ, ᚢᛁᛚᛚᛖ ᚺᚨᚾ ᚨᛚᛞᚱᛁ ᚷÅᛏᛏ ᛁᚾᚾ ᛁ ᛞᚢᛊᛃᛖᚾ. ᛞᛖ ᚢᚨᚾᛞᚱᛖᛏ ᛁᚾᚾ ᛁ ᛖᚾ ᛗᛖᚱᚲᛖᛚᛁᚷ ᛏᛁᚲᛁ-ᛒᚨᚱ ᛈÅ ᚲᚨᚾᛏᛖᚾ ᚨᚢ ᛞᛖᚾ ᛚᛁᛚᛚᛖ ᛊᛏᚱᚨᚾᛞᛒᛁᛖᚾ. ᚢᛁ ᚺᚨᚱ ᚨᛚᛞᚱᛁ ᚢᛇᚱᛏ ᛁ ᚨᛊᛁᚨ, ᛟᚷ ᚢᛁ ᚺᚨᚱ ᚺᛖᛚᛚᛖᚱ ᛁᚲᚲᛖ ᛒᛖᛊᚢᚲᛏ ᚨᚠᚱᛁᚲᚨ. ᚺᚨᚾ ᛊᛁᚾᛏᛖᛊ ᛞᛖ ᚲᚨᚲᛖᚱᛚᚨᚲᚲᛖᚾᛖ ᛗᛖᛞ ᚲᚨᚲᚨᛟ ᚢᚨᚱ ᚷᚨᚾᛊᚲᛖ ᚢᛖᛚᛊᛗᚨᚲᛖᚾᛞᛖ. ᛁ ᛗᚢᛏᛖ ᛗᛖᛞ ᛊᛁᚾ ᛊᛏᚢᚱᛊᛏᛖ ᚠᚱᛁᚲᛏ ᛊᛈᛁᛊᛏᛖ ᚺᚨᚾ ᛊᛁᚾ ᚠᚢᚱᛊᛏᛖ ᛗᚨᚱᛊᚺᛗᚨᛚᛚᛟᚹ. ᚺᚢᚾ ᚲᛃᛖᚾᛏᛖ ᛈÅ ᛞᛖᚾ ᚲᚺᛁᛚᛚᛁᛜᛖᚾ ᛊᛟᛗ ᚷᛃᚢᚱ ᚺÅᚱᛖᚾᛖ ᛈÅ ᚾᚨᚲᚲᛖᚾ ᚾÅᚱ ᚺᚨᚾ ᚷᛁᚲᚲ ᛁᚾᚾ ᛁ ᚱᛟᛗᛗᛖᛏ. ᚺᚢᚾ ᛚᛟᛏ ᛒᚨᛚᛚᛟᛜᛖᚾ ᚠᛚᛁᛏᛖ ᛟᛈᛈ ᛁ ᛚᚢᚠᛏᛖᚾ ᛗᛖᛞ ᛊᛁᚾᛖ ᚺÅᛈ ᛟᚷ ᛞᚱᚢᛗᛗᛖᚱ. ᛊᚢᚲ ᛊᚢᚲᛊᛖᛊᛊ, ᛗᛖᚾ ᚢᛇᚱ ᚨᛚᛚᛏᛁᛞ ᚠᛟᚱᛒᛖᚱᛖᛞᛏ ᛈÅ ᛏᛁᛚᚠᛖᛚᛞᛁᚷᛖ ᚲᚨᛏᛏᛖᚱ. ᚢᛁ ᛒᚢᚱᛞᛖ ᛚᛖᚲᛖ ᛗᛖᛞ ᛚᛖᚷᛟᛖᚱ ᛈÅ ᛚᛖᛁᚱᛖᚾ. ᚺᚢᚾ ᚱᛖᛁᛊᛏᛖ ᚠᛟᚱᛞᛁ ᛞᛖᛏ ᚲᛟᛊᛏᛖᛏ ᛞᛖᛏ ᛊᚨᛗᛗᛖ ᛊᛟᛗ ᛏᛖᚱᚨᛈᛁ ᛟᚷ ᚢᚨᚱ ᛗᛁᛖ ᛗᛟᚱᛊᛟᛗᛗᛖᚱᛖ. ᛏᛟ ᛞᚨᚷᛖᚱ ᛏᛁᛚ, ᛟᚷ ᚨᛚᛚᛖ ᚺᚨᚾᛊ ᛈᚱᛟᛒᛚᛖᛗᛖᚱ ᚢᛁᛚᛚᛖ ᛒᛚᛁ ᛚᚢᛊᛏ. ᚺᚨᚾ ᚠᛟᚱᛏᚨᛚᛏᛖ ᛊᛖᚷ ᛊᛖᛚᚢ ᚨᛏ ᛖᚾ ᛞᚨᚷ ᚢᛁᛚᛚᛖ ᛞᛖᛏ ᛈÅ ᛖᚾ ᛖᛚᛚᛖᚱ ᚨᚾᚾᛖᚾ ᛗÅᛏᛖ ᚢᛇᚱᛖ ᚠᛟᚱᚾᚢᚠᛏᛁᚷ. ᛒᚨᚲ ᚢᛁᚾᛞᚢᛖᛏ ᚢᚨᚱ ᛞᛖᛏ ᛖᚾ ᚱᛖᚠᛚᛖᚲᛊᛃᛟᚾ ᛊᛟᛗ ᛒᚨᚱᛖ ᛁᚾᚾᛈᛟᛞᛖᛏ ᚠᚱᛁᚲᛏ. ᚺᚢᚾ ᚷᚱÅᛏ ᛞᛁᚨᛗᚨᚾᛏᛖᚱ. ᛃᛖᚷ ᛏᛖᛚᛚᛖᚱ ᚲᚨᛚᛟᚱᛁᛖᚾᛖ ᛗᛁᚾᛖ, ᛗᛖᚾ ᛃᛖᚷ ᚢᛁᛚ ᚢᛁᚱᚲᛖᛚᛁᚷ ᚺᚨ ᛞᛖᛊᛊᛖᚱᛏ.

Incomprehensible gibberish. He knew the words, he could translate their individual meanings, but there were so many voices layered atop one another, all speaking different things, all incomparably loud and overwhelming. You might as well try to make sense of a bleating crowd arguing with itself, peer into the thoughts of a thousand thousand people and try to understand them all at once. He tries to focus but as soon as the voices quiet for a moment the gibbering beast's cries enter his ears once more, boosting the giant's babble. All thought of the fight leaves Vargath as he retreats into himself, trying to get a hold on the madness that threatens to consume him, as it did long ago. He stumbles left and right, unseeing and unknowing though his feet don't carry him far.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Actions: None. Vargath failed his gibbering save and rolled a 4 and so he does nothing, no movement or anything.

[Riggdgames]

Set Al-Sayyid Changeling Fighter/Hexblade AC: 17 HP: 27/27 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9 Conditions: I got gibbering mouthed Concentration: -- As the light and heat fades, the crackle of flame is replaced by the demented cries of a thousand mouths wailing over the illusory horn. Set knows the danger, knows he can't allow himself to fall victim to its babbling plea, but he put too much faith in the warhorn. His ears are wide open to its effect. The alpha, an enormous monstrosity already, seems to grow in size tenfold until Set's vision is filled and there is naught else in the world. Just Set, the alpha, and the endless wail of its mouths. Its shadow seems to stretch on forever, wrapping around his whole world. Set's spear butt drops to the ground, his eyes glazing over as he stares straight ahead into nothingness. Spoiler: OOC Show Really just taking my cues from Vargath here. Failed wisdom save, nothing from Set this round haha.

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16 HP: 17/20 PP: 13 PIv: 13 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor Concentration: Dragon's Breath on Set (4/10) "Oh great, it's getting uglier and you lot are just standing around all befuddled!" Birel comments in annoyance before casting forth another ray of frost. Spoiler Show Ray of Frost: (1d20+5)[17] damage: (1d8)[3] and movement reduced 10 feet if crit: (1d8)[8] Maintaining a distance of 60 feet away, so moving if I have to.

[Awful]

Focus, focus, focus-

Only Birel seemd to still be fighting, and her magic seemed to be doing little damage. She had to hit.

With a force of will, Selissa forced herself to calm, to conceal herself in the shadows of the cave, to draw an arrow and fire - and this time the arrow went cleanly into the throat of the howling abomination.

With a clean hit, she continued backing up further into the cave, away from the gibbering mouths and madness of the monster.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Crit hide and hit on discord, 24 damage, then move 30ft or so back into the cave.

[purepolarpanzer]

In The Depths of the Hartswood

The monster looms over the two inundated members of the party, lifting it's claw high and bearing it's teeth. It winces at Birel's frost, but it is Selissa's arrow that elicits a shriek of pain from every mouth except the main one- that mouth wheezes and gags from it's newly acquired piercing. It reels backwards, and when it does Milo rushes forward. Grabbing the spear still sticking out of the beast's chest, he throws all his muscle into one push and knocks the creature to the ground. Milo holds onto the spear as the beast tips, putting his entire body weight onto it. With a sickening crunch the spear bursts through the monster's enhanced rib cage and strikes true. Blood fountains from the wound, spraying across everyone who is close to the abomination, and one by one the mouths quiet as the life runs out of the gaping wound. Then the beast begins to liquefy, rapidly melting and rotting away until all that remains is a mutated skeleton and a soupy, bloody mess that stains the earth. Well, that and the massive black stone slab shield, which rests on the ground like a giant beetle.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

From this long encounter (really 3 encounters with no rest between them) each of you get 1,132 xp. Which, correct me if I am wrong, should promote you all to level 4. Congratulations, all.

[Amnestic]

Vargath Hubrecht Half-Orc Rune Knight Fighter AC: 19 HP: 31/38 PP: 12 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Conditions: Infected (Lycanthropy) Concentrating: -- Vargath struggles for breath as the mad gibbering stops. He hadn't seen how it had ended, hadn't heard it. He'd been blind and deaf and holding his breath to try to focus. With the voices outside gone he can finally get control back on the voices inside. One by one they fade away as he forces them down. The last one he smothers isn't speaking, but laughing, though at what he couldn't say. Finally he can open his eyes and take in the scene of the dead monstrosity dissolving into its thick congealed mess. It seems they'd killed it without him. He's a little disappointed in himself, all thing's told, but he'd hit it pretty hard so he definitely contributed. He stands back to his full height, taking a moment to retrieve his weapons and check for any serious injuries - none, save the numbing bite on his arm - before speaking. "Can't say that was a fun fight. The beast was more...beast than I've come to expect. Selissa, do we need to go deeper into the cave? Were there any left or was that all of them?" He had time before the infection fully took hold, probably. They needed to make sure this was done, no further risk. And then he had to hope that he could be cured.

[Awful]

Selissa Betula Wood Elf Scout Rogue AC: 16 HP: 28/31 PP: 16 Conditions: None Concentrating: -- Selissa, very cautiously, emerged from the cave, arrow still nocked to her bow as she made a cautious circle of the bones. Finally, convinced that it would not spring up to attack, creeped closer to the head of the skeleton, pulled out her knife, and levered off the skull of it. She backed away swiftly and hurled the skull upwards into the branches of a tree. She looked at the rest of the werewolf corpses, frowned pensively, and decided there currently wasn't enough time. As Vargath spoke, she looked up and stared at him for a long moment. Her piercing eyes lingered on his bite. "Not all," she said flatly. "One was with alpha, I think. Ran into woods when it changed. Will have to hunt him." She paused in her speech, as was her way, as if she only ever had a few words at a time. "Was three beds. One for the two in cave. One for sentry, maybe. One for alpha and mate? Can't know. Haven't been round whole cave." A second pause lasted long seconds before she finally spoke again, still in that measured tone. "You were bitten."

[Amnestic]

Vargath Hubrecht Half-Orc Rune Knight Fighter AC: 19 HP: 31/38 PP: 12 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Conditions: Infected (Lycanthropy) Concentrating: -- "I was." A flat reply for a flat statement before turning to the rest of the group and addressing them all. "Unless anyone happens to have a bottled spell or a magical cure they've kept quiet on it's a concern for later. It doesn't feel like any changes are taking place, just an uncomfortable numb tingling around the bite, so we have a bit of time until I become an issue." 'Issue' was a nice word for it. Threat might be more accurate though. He'd seen people try to control it before. Some lasted longer than others. Days, weeks, sometimes months - save for when the moon was full - but eventually the shift was inevitable, as his would be. The looks of pity, fear, disgust, betrayal. It drove people deeper just as much as the curse itself did. And most didn't have giants voices in his head to contend with, though perhaps they'd help rather than hinder, in this at least.

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16 HP: 23/26 PP: 13 PIv: 14 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor Concentration: Dragon's Breath on Set (5/10) "I also heard something go through the woods, we might as well give chase and finish the job yes?" Birel suggests to the others.

[Riggdgames]

Set Al-Sayyid Changeling Fighter/Hexblade AC: 17 HP: 34/34 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- The shadows finally lift as the gibbering mouths give way to screaming ones. Set comes-to in time to see the spray of blood and watch the alpha melt. In a daze he walks forward into the thick of it, belching one last gout of flame as he stares down at the creature's shield, examining it. He toes the heavy, black stone with one boot, lost in thought as he imagines a scarab in its place. His thoughts are broken finally by the Three. Set has no bottled spell or magical cure. All he has is a silver spear and dark laughter echoing quietly in the recesses of his mind. He turns to Milo, hopeful the hunter knows of a cure, but his North Star grabs their attention first. Right, there was another wolf. "She's right," Set says, looking to the others. "One on the loose could infect mo--." He stops midsentence, flinching as he looks at Vargath. "We should move." Set pauses just a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek to keep from twitching. "If it starts to feel like more than just tingling," Set says, working hard to keep his voice steady, "let me know, alright?"

[purepolarpanzer]

In the Depths of the Hartswood

Milo yanks his boar spear from the remains of the abomination, lingering only to spit on the bones as Selissa is throwing the skull up into a tree. He nods in approval at this and then turns his gaze to Vargath. There are several poignant seconds where the hunter grips his spear tighter and tighter while facing in Vargath's direction. Then he relents, suddenly looking very old and very tired. Probably tired of being put in this exact scenario- deciding whether or not to turn on a wounded comrade. There may even be some guilt in those eyes- survivor's guilt. Wordlessly he reaches into a sheath at his side and draws out a small, collapsible, hand-held razor. He approaches Vargath and flicks the weapon open, then shut, then pushes the blade into the half-orc's hand just as the last of the sunlight in the sky fades away. Looking up through the tree branches, he says "Full moon should be in about a week. Make peace with your gods and make the right decision before then. I'll come... either for the razor, or for you. Up to you to decide. Make the right decision." Then he moves towards the treeline that the alpha burst out of. "She-elf. Come search for tracks with me. Weres are none too smart about covering their tracks in their war form, but if it goes full wolf or full human we might have trouble. Best move fast."

Spoiler: Set

Show

When Set's toe touches the shield there is a shock of energy that flashes through him, body and mind. For a second all Set can see is brilliant green light, threatening to blind him. And he hears... something. It either sounds like a massive, deep voice speaking long words in a language Set doesn't understand so slowly it just sounds like a vague hum, or like thousands of voices shrieking the same syllable at different volumes and pitches, resulting in intense static. Then the connection goes dead silent as Set's toe retreats. Set's vision returns to normal.

"No... no you can't have him! You can't have my child, gods damn you! I'll kill you! I'll kill you all!" This voice fills everyone's mind as Set's toe retreats from the shield. It sounds like a woman's voice, drenched in pain and fury, with a shrieking ferocity that more than matches the rage of the alpha beast. The black slab of a shield suddenly flips upwards, coming to rest on it's bottommost point in defiance of gravity. Runes and markings appear on the stone shield, slowly growing an intense, glowing, acidic green before slowly fading away. Then the shield falls flat on the ground again with a puff of dust.

Spoiler: Birel

Show

The runes and markings on the shield as it was standing in place are definitely ones the wizard has seen before, on her own obelisk all those years ago. The stone of the shield and that of the obelisk are identical- a flat, matte black that could never be mistaken as a dark grey. Reading and interpreting these ones would take time, and the shield would have to enter it's "active" state again, but it should be possible. Who knows what it may say, however?

[Amnestic]

Vargath Hubrecht Half-Orc Rune Knight Fighter AC: 19 HP: 31/38 PP: 12 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Conditions: Infected (Lycanthropy) Concentrating: -- "Wouldn't worry about that," Vargath assures Set, slipping the razor from Milo into his bag. "I've never been very good at keeping secrets." A poor joke, given the circumstances, but a little levity would help, them and him both. He leaps back into a fighting stance when the shield rights itself, but drops it as the shield does. He doesn't particularly want to touch it, especially after what it seemed to do to the alpha...and it could well do the same to him. He doesn't want to say it out loud but he'd rather they just leave it be for now. Weird black shield runes could wait. He might be putting his mind on the hunt to distract from his impending change but so what? There wasn't any shame in focusing on what you could change instead of what you couldn't. That's what he wanted to believe, even if the gnawing on his arm said it wasn't so simple. He moves past the shield, without further comment, to follow along with the hunt. Probably best for him to take the bites rather than others at this point, all things considered.

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16 HP: 23/26 PP: 13 PIv: 14 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor Concentration: Dragon's Breath on Set (5/10) Birel winces at the voice invading her mind, but as soon as she sees the markings on the shield the mental invasion is pushed aside. Contrasting Vargath, she immediately rushes over to grab the shield. For a moment she's about to sit right down and study it, but then she remembers they've got a werewolf to hunt down as Vargath moves to chase it down. Shield in both hands, Birel chases after them. After a moment's thought she reduces Vargath's density so he can give chase a bit faster. Spoiler Show Picking up shield Running Used Adjust Density on Vargath to give him a +10 bonus to speed.

[Riggdgames]

Set Al-Sayyid Changeling Fighter/Hexblade AC: 17 HP: 34/34 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- Set's mouth twitches as he tries to smile at Vargath's joke, but with Milo's promise falling so recently on their ears, there's no levity behind it. "We'll figure something out," he says, trying to convince himself as he stares down at the pouch where the razor dwells. Fight the Mighty? There's no doubt Milo had aquitted himself well in the fight. The old hunter knew his business with that longspear. But this was the first time Set realized he was daft or feeble-minded. If Vargath decided not to use that razor, Set wasn't sure he wanted to stick around to see the aftermath. He'd no desire to kill Vargath, that was true, but even more than that, Set had no desire to put himself in the path of the Mighty's axe or his hammer. Say one thing for Milo. At least he realized how hopeless it would be after Vargath turned were. Still, Set puzzled over how to possibly best the Mighty before that time. Maybe if they killed him in his sleep? No, nope, f*** that. F*** all of this. Set lets out a string of curses in his people's tongue as he rubs his eyes and tries to get himself back under control. He steps away from the Mighty and pretends to examine the alpha's shield. Later. They could think about the bite and what to do about it later, together. His North Star would guide them, and Maus too. There had to be another way. A way to keep the Mighty from turning, or at the very least to keep him on their side, somehow. The Three were strong enough. They would find another way. Set imagines a scarab staring up at him from the shield and he stares back bitterly. Of course. No time like the present for ill-omens. He toes it to examine it further, finally giving it some real thought. Intense green light, unlike any Set can remember seeing, blinds him. A hum sounds from the depths, rumbling in his ears. The thing sounds like a song without words from a time before memory. It's a long moment before Set's toe retreats, severing the connection as he realizes the danger. This is not a trifle. It is something He would be interested in. It is something the Shadowkeeper might know of, or if He doesn't, something He might wish to know more about. Set doesn't even realize that the others must hear the voice that follows. He's so intent on blanking his mind to it that it's all he can do to try to pretend he doesn't hear her himself. He locks up, frozen in place until well after the shield comes to rest and his North Star peels it from the ground, safeguarding him from its influence and guiding him forward once more. Set's breath comes in shallow gulps as he looks inward, searching for any sign He's listening, but the Shadowkeeper doesn't seem to be there. Set's shadow appears to still be his. "Right behind you," he says, feeling rushed as they chase the last were's tracks. With the sun getting lower, Set casts a long shadow, but it grows a trifle longer still as it reaches out, intent on a closer look at the shield and the one who holds it.

[Awful]

Selissa Betula Wood Elf Scout Rogue AC: 16 HP: 28/31 PP: 16 Conditions: None Concentrating: -- Selissaflinched away from the voice, and took a moment of stock-still glaring at the fallen tablet before she began to move again. She hissed as something in her head seemed to twist, and- -suddenly, she felt more... attuned somehow, to the forest around, as if she could hear its whispers, if she listened. If it would shelter her and show her the path, if she wished. Witha a start, she realised the wood growing along her side and neck from her arm had spread, spreading bark across patches of her side and neck up to the edges of her face. She gently touched it with her left hand, feeling warm wood under her fingertips. She was silent for a long moment after, adjusting to this sudden shift in her world, before without another word, she nodded and moved up to look for tracks alongside the old hunter. She cast a glance towards the others - Vargath, Set, Birel. She paused as if to speak, then gave a tiny shake of her head and went to find the last were.

[purepolarpanzer]

In the Depths of the Hartswood

Selissa and Milo easily find the trail of the missing were. Both of them have no problem following the prints, though Milo remarks "Makes no sense. Why stay human? War form and wolf form are faster. Better for running away. This is off.". True enough, you follow the prints of a humanoid for just under an hour, through thick forest and along small trails. Selissa spots something else curious- blood on the thorns of a bush that branches into the trail, which would be impossible for a were of any type.

The party has to pass through a stand of trees so thick that it leaves streaks of sticky sap on your armor and clothes and stumbles upon your prey. The forest neighbors a steep rocky slope, and a fist sized rock comes bouncing down the hill, nearly hitting Milo in the shin. Climbing up the slope is a near naked woman wearing torn and bloody rags, huffing and puffing with the exertion of her flight. She has waist-length red hair matted with dirt, bright green eyes tainted by fury and fear, and dozens of cuts and scrapes over her form. She turns to face you all, bears her teeth and growls, then continues struggling up the slope. She makes it another five feet up the slope before a rock she's holding dislodges and she slides back down to half-way up the slope. Giving a shriek of rage, she redoubles her effort to climb.

[Riggdgames]

Set Al-Sayyid Changeling Fighter/Hexblade AC: 17 HP: 34/34 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- Set looks between his allies, confued and dismayed at the sight of her before stepping forward. "That's enough now," he says, making sure his voice carries over her efforts, but trying not to sound threatening. Between the Three and Milo, he was certain she could see they were threat enough. Putting his spear over his back, Set steps closer, empty palms facing the ground. "We are not here to hurt you." He stands still, letting that hang in the air for a moment as he considers her. "My name is Set Al-Sayyid. What is your name?" Waiting for a response, Set prepares to remove his robes and offer them so that she can cover up if she offers her name. Spoiler: OOC Show Set will walk right up to her if she'll allow it with the certainty that comes from low wisdom that there's no tricks here and she's just a scared ex-captive. Hopefully that's true

[Amnestic]

Vargath Hubrecht Half-Orc Rune Knight Fighter AC: 19 HP: 31/38 PP: 12 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Conditions: Infected (Lycanthropy) Concentrating: -- Vargath watches, and waits. And doesn't put away his axe. She could be a fresh bite like him, or simply deceiving them. She might even be the cause of the alpha's strange mutation, some eldritch horror. If not, fine, but he wasn't going to be as quick as Set to disarm himself until they had more assurances. He glances over to Milo, making sure he's ready to do what was necessary. He didn't relish the idea of killing someone unarmed, unarmoured, but he couldn't be sure this was a "someone", and not a "something".

[Awful]

Selissa Betula Wood Elf Scout Rogue AC: 16 HP: 28/31 PP: 16 Conditions: None Concentrating: -- The forest elf did not frown as they'd followed the trail, but her mouth had drawn into a harder line as she agreed with the hunter's words. When they encountered a ragged, naked woman, she was a tad bemused. She let Set approach, instead quietly circling around to ensure she had a clean shot on the perhaps-woman, her bow not raised - but not quite lowered, either.

[purepolarpanzer]

In the Depths of the Hartswood

The woman's nostrils flare, her breath grows more rapid, and she extends her hands as though they were covered in razor sharp claws as Set approaches, snarling, hissing, and spitting like a cornered animal. As he puts his weapon away, however, her eyes grow curious and slowly, oh so slowly, she transforms. Her hands lower to her sides, tremble and relax. Her eyes go from wide open to partially hooded, and every muscle in her body goes from strained to limp. She unleashes a long, low howl, her voice nothing but human and showing no signs of a true animal. Then she speaks in a slow, measured tone. "I am Aylea. And you should be careful. I'm a werewolf, and I could bite you and spread the curse." When Set moves to clothe her, she nearly falls into his arms down the slope, obviously exhausted from fleeing. "You slew my pack. Killed my alpha. I am not strong enough to fight you with tooth and claw. I am yours now. I wish to join your pack. We can run wild and free, under the moon together, and bathe in the blood of our prey. One bite and you'll understand." She doesn't so much lunge forward as exhaustedly lurch, and she does try to bite Set on his neck, but it is less an attack and more a lover's nip. Still, he manages to easily hold her at arm's length, and she doesn't put up much of a struggle, never coming close to biting him. He doubts she could overpower much of anyone in this state, though more and more it seems as though the most dangerous thing about this woman is her derangement. "Don't you want to be free?"

Spoiler: OOC

Show

If anyone wants to strike Aylea down for attempting to bite Set that is perfectly permissible, but she rolled with disadvantage because of her exhaustion level. Still, a bite is a bite, so no one will be blamed if anyone wants to make that call.

[Amnestic]

Vargath Hubrecht Half-Orc Rune Knight Fighter AC: 19 HP: 31/38 PP: 12 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Conditions: Infected (Lycanthropy) Concentrating: -- It didn't make any sense to him. If she were a beast, she would have turned as the rest did. And so she must not be. Why then had she not been turned? Some natural immunity? Or perhaps they just reveled in keeping a deranged pet human for sport, entertaining her apparent delusions for their own amusement. "Put some silver on her skin, that should tell the truth of her quickly enough." He doesn't move to intervene, Set seems to have it well enough in hand for now. A small blessing if she wasn't infected, it would save anyone else a potential curse alongside him.

[Riggdgames]

Set Al-Sayyid Changeling Fighter/Hexblade AC: 17 HP: 34/34 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- Set lets out an involuntary yelp as the woman lurches forward to bite him, but he quickly masters both her and himself. Set can feel his own exhaustion creeping in, but he stands firm regardless, trying not to show it as he holds the sagging woman up. She offered freedom. The word by itself was enough to make Set stop and take notice, but it was an illusion. Aylea couldn't offer Set freedom anymore than he could offer to go back and change whatever past had lead her to the werewolve's den. Nodding at the Mighty's sage advice, Set hesitates a moment, wondering what the threat of silver might do to her if she believed what she said. "Our...pack. Yes. This pack is not like yours, Aylea. We only have one wolf among us," Set says, motioning towards the painted face on Vargath's shield. "The shield, I mean," Set continues, biting the inside of his cheek as he remembers the half-orc holding it is infected. Shaking his head, Set feels the weight of the day dragging him down far more than the woman. They needed to keep moving, but they couldn't leave her behind any more than they could let her status go unchecked. "If you wish to join this pack," Set says slowly, mouth twitching as the lie unfolds, "you'll have to endure our bite." Set forces her to face the slope, turning her away with firm hands that aren't unkind for all that. Looking back over his shoulder at the others and wondering where Evergreen disappeared to, Set's eyes roam over them before settling on his North Star's silver dagger. He points to it and wordlessly asks for it, holding his hand out. Spoiler: OOC Show Set's going to prick the side of her neck with the silver dagger. A bit of deception to try to make it easier. Deception (1d20+5)[7]

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16 HP: 23/26 PP: 13 PIv: 14 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor Concentration: Dragon's Breath on Set (5/10) Birel for her part caught up later than the others. She wasn't made for this fighting a whole werewolf pack and then immediately chase after some woman through the woods while carrying a shield in both arms nonsense! She's too winded to react to the woman trying to bite Set... but fortunately it wound up ok apparently. "Seems the woman was all bark, no bite" she jests to herself. Then Set asks for her dagger. So she has to awkwardly shuffle the shield in her arm and barely manages to hand it over without stabbing him through the hand or dropping the shield on her foot.

[Awful]

Selissa Betula Wood Elf Scout Rogue AC: 16 HP: 28/31 PP: 16 Conditions: None Concentrating: -- From her flanking position, Selissa shifted minutely, uncomfortable. She said nothing, however; she had never been described as a people person at the best of times even among her own kind, and dealing with a delusional human thinking she was a werewolf was far beyond her talents. Why would the werewolves keep this woman among their number? Was it some kind of werewolf joke she was too elven to understand? If nothing else, Set shouldn't let her bite him anyway; she knew people could transfer plenty of mundane disease with their bite anyway, and that's without living in a cave and probably eating raw meat. She quirked her mouth in a frown when Birel awkwardly handed over a knife. She hoped they weren't planning to stab her; it seemed a little excessive, even if she was a bit more witless and a tad more pungent than an ordinary human. She took a few steps forward until she was visible to the others, putting her arrow back into the quiver, but her hand wasn't far from drawing another missile again. The forest elf gave Set a stern look, but, of course, said nothing.

[purepolarpanzer]

In the Depths of the Hartswood

"Silver?!? NO! NO THAT WILL KILL ME!" Aylea begins to wriggle and struggle against Set's hold, but she is weaker than him and more tired so he easily contains her, even if it is only with one hand. Still, as she faces the slope and the dagger draws near she fights with every muscle of her body, kicking back at Set ineffectually and slapping at him with her free hand. She lurches at the last moment and almost drives the dagger deep into her own neck, but Set is swift enough to turn the blade away before it does irreparable harm, then quickly poke it forward into her flesh. She screeches and howls with even more distress than the werewolves showed when they were exposed to silver, but a simple pin prick of blood wells from the minute puncture, with no smoke, no hissing, and nothing to warrant her screaming. Milo, silent until this point, covers his ears with both hands for a few seconds while he approaches Set and Aylea before drawing back his hand and bringing it forward in a slap that nearly knocks the woman from her feet, with only Set to support her when her legs go limp. But, say what you will about the abusive gesture, she stops screaming, instead blinking rapidly and moving to cradle her jaw. "You're not a werewolf you silly wench!" Milo utters a curse and spits in the dirt. "I don't know what type of crazy you are, but you are NOT my problem!" He reaches down to pull up his pants, adjusts his spear and crossbow contraption, and turns to leave the scene. "I'm a were hunter, not a head doctor. Do with her what you will, I'm going home." He takes a few steps away before turning back. "You all held your own well in that fight. You have my thanks, for returning my home and my profession to me. Now I'm going back to retirement. Come by for a drink sometime if you have the inclination. And boy..." He raises his hand in a salute to Vargath. "Be seeing you. One way or the other."

[Amnestic]

Vargath Hubrecht Half-Orc Rune Knight Fighter AC: 19 HP: 31/38 PP: 12 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Conditions: Infected (Lycanthropy) Concentrating: -- So he was infected and she wanted to be. Seemed like there was an easy solution to both their problems...assuming there existed some magic to facilitate it. Of course, they'd have to kill her after she turned beast, but at least it'd be her choice. He keeps his state to himself. He doesn't particularly want her climbing all over him or throwing herself at his teeth. He gives Milo a brief wave farewell, and at least assured of no further beast-based hostilities, he hooks away his axe. "We're running short on time before our meeting with the witch." He says, stating the obvious, if only to get his mind off the impending madness of his own. "We should probably bring the crazy back to the chief, rest up before our final appointment of the day. Lost local girl maybe? She look familiar to either of you?" He glances across at Birel and Selissa.

[Awful]

Selissa Betula Wood Elf Scout Rogue AC: 16 HP: 28/31 PP: 16 Conditions: None Concentrating: -- At Vargath's question, the forest elf considered, then gave a tiny shake of her head. She didn't recognise the woman, nor had she heard of the disappearance of a woman like her; it was her assumption she wasn't a local. Where she was from was a mystery, but not one of Selissa's concern.

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16 HP: 23/26 PP: 13 PIv: 14 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor Concentration: Dragon's Breath on Set (5/10) "I don't recognize her either. Let's bring her to the Chief and maybe get a drink before we have to deal with the witch." Birel replies. She's not super happy about how they keep berating this woman for her malady, after none of them seem to have right to be throwing stones in that regard from what little she's already she's learned of each of them, in part because she doesn't want them to turn that kind of treatment on her later as she knows she absolutely will push them to find that other obelisk even if it means significant risk to all of them and she doubts they'll understand quite how important it is to her.