Logger's Peril, part 2
Log Info
- Title: Logger's Peril, part 2
- Emitter: Whirlpool
- Characters: Aimarra, Jozi, Randolf, Rumbo, Smuldur
- Place: Alexandros - Somewhere in Mythwood
- Time: Thursday, September 24th, 2020 11:00AM
- Summary: After learning that the lumbermill is empty of people the party hired by the Guild of Explorers in Alexandria follow an elf deeper into the Mythwood to find where the lumberjacks have been taken.
- APL: 2-5
- Encounter 1: Trekking through the Mythwood.
-=-=-=-=-=-= At a glance around Staff: Room of DoooOOooooOoom! =-=-=-=-=-=-= Aimarra 5'1" 128 Lb Half-Elf Female Brown hair and eyes, breastplate, leathers, pointed ears. Jozi 5'8" 148 Lb Half-Orc Female A brunette half-orcess with a sunny disposition. Randolf 4'10" 280 Lb Mountain Dwarf Male A burly, well-dressed Khazad in wizardly robes. Rumbo 3'2" 35 Lb Goblin Male A gun-toting gobber with a wooden peg-leg. Smuldur 3'4" 45 Lb Goblin Male A gently used (cut, scraped, burnt, exploded) gobber. Whirlpool Lb Otyugh I am stinky! -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Smuldur is still suspicious of the trees... though a hollowed-out tree worn by something else isn't -entirely- out of the question. Besides, they still burn! Thus his unilateral mono-theory on everything is once more reinforced! He taps at one of the trees to see if it might be one of these hollow ones.
Randolf listens to the tale of the twisted ones, his eyes growing wider and wider. "They... hollow out -men-?" he squeaks. It's a strange sound for such a burly dwarf to make, and yet, there it is. He gulps audibly, a cold sweat springing up on his brow as he glances around. "Do... does that include -dwarves-?" he asks, shifting from foot to foot.
"The men they wear as suits...." That chilling thought is not lost on Aimarra. "Do the stories say what happens to the men, if the fey is destroyed? Or have none succeeded?"
Rumbo sighs and mutters in his harsh tradespeak, "Women!" After pocketing his brass compass he taps a fist over his chest. "Love falling. Then rip out heart. Women leave. Men feel hollow! I understand you elf. It's love... damned women! You need whiskey. Fill up hollow feeling." <tradespeak>
"They were hollowed out. They do not survive," says the elf, a bit confused for a moment. They squint at Rumbo. "You are from the Alexandrian, yes? Why are you... here? Fey can be destroyed, but dangerous work. Safer to leave them to their trees and never cross them." Their head tilts. To Randolf then, "... you are a man, yes?"
Randolf looks to the elven youth, swallowing again. "A-aye, I suppose I am. A dwarven man," he says. He grips his wand a bit more tightly, knuckles white around the magicked baton. "So... fey, then. How... how do we kill 'em? I suppose magic should work, shouldn't it?"
"Wha's that, sugar?" Jozi asks archly of the goblin over her bowstring. She glances between the elf and the others, then, "Well, that sounds just plum nasty."
"Burn it!" Smuldur looks over from his tree-inspection to shout. "Inside. Outside. Hollow. Full. Still burn!"
Rumbo looks over to Jozi and gestures with his empty hand. "I think it's obvious isn't it? The elf is telling us some forest women seduced all the lumberjacks but had some sort of lovers spat and broke up with them. The lumberjacks got all depressed and had a tantrum that broke the mill then followed the women back into the forest to win them back. Typical relationship stuff. Bit harsh calling them twisted ones but I get it. Fey can be like that, all seductive and tricky." <yrch-speak>
"So we are given to believe." Aimarra carefully does not look at Randolf as she speaks, but her eyes dance wickedly. "Alexandria's Explorer's Guild sends us to resolve the logging dispute," she goes on, sobering. "It seems that there is no dispute, and there was another reason for the trouble entirely. If the fey nightmare has them ... what of your people?"
Jozi rolls her eyes and takes a short intake of breath, then lets it out more slowly. She looks to the elf as Aimarra asks her question, a little curious about all that, herself.
"WE are wise enough to avoid these troubles," huffs the elf, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth in disdain towqards the fickle passions of human men.
A beat.
"Most of the time. We seek peace with the twisted ones, to live and let live, but we understand that you can not ignore the dissappearance of your men so I will accompany you to ensure you do not leave more trouble in your wake than your men have brought with you."
Randolf swallows again, nodding his head. "A-aye. Er. Aye. We'd prefer te get 'em back wi'out any trouble," he says. He sets his jaw and straightens his spine, puffing his burly chest up a bit. "But if we have te defend ourselves or our folk... well, ye can bet yer beard that we will." Pause. Blink. "Er. Right. Elves dinne have beards. Er. Bet sommat else, then. Right."
Rumbo shrugs and says simply "Me ok to leave. Think dispute resolved. All loggers gone. Solution? Send more loggers, instruct not be seduced by forest women."
Jozi shakes her head. "We gotta try an'save them." She steps a little closer and "We appreciate yer help, sugar..." A pause, an arched eyebrow, "You... gotta proper name we can call ya?"
GAME: Aimarra rolls knowledge/nature: (9)+8: 17 GAME: Randolf rolls knowledge/nature+2: (20)+5+2: 27
Aimarra's forehead creases, but she only snorts. "It's your forest, that's fair enough." She shrugs. "Just remember, the fey started it." She looks towards the others. "Let's get going."
"...perhaps they shoiuld not have tried to cut down the trees we warnned them would incur the wrath of the fey," remarks the unnamed elf. They pull their hood back over their head and disappear into the trees ahead of you. They're going to follow, it seems, and keep an eye out.
You have tracks heading into the woods to follow, and thus, you do.
Carefully, of course.
GAME: Randolf rolls perception: (19)+2: 21 GAME: Rumbo rolls Perception: (13)+9: 22 GAME: Aimarra rolls perception: (5)+10: 15 GAME: Jozi rolls perception: (19)+8: 27
Randolf falls into step with the rest of the party. His keen gaze flicking back and forth as they follow the trail. He holds his wand in one hand, and his axe in the other. Now and again, a faint shimmer from his mage armor magic trails along his form, a reminder of his mystic protections. "I'm no woodsman," he says at length. "But it looks like they went that-a-ways." He points with his wand along the trail's path, leading deeper into the wood.
Embarrassed that a khazad has caught what a bounty hunter and woodsman had missed, Aimarra says nothing, following the others deeper into the wood.
Rumbo has brought out his old brass compass and has it in one hand to see what direction they are trekking through the forest, the dragonspitter is of course out in his other hand.
Jozi hmmm's softly as they walk, deciding on, "Goin' with Ivy, then. In case things go south." she says with a shrug toward the nameless elf. She starts to lope along with the others, keeping her bow strung, but not drawn. She looks about, "Yeah, looks like they turned up ahead!"
Tracking the elf is not easy, if you're watching for them. They are just present enough to let you know they are there but they don't actually show up beyond that.
A few hours of tracking go by, and it's not exactly easy going. The woods are getting deeper and more dangerous, to be sure. You're passing into the more untamed parts of the forests that border the Mythwood it self and the parts patrolled by their wardens. ^r
You begin to hear running water. A large stream of some sort, no doubt.
Rumbo begins to hop from foot to foot and winces. His eyes glance left and right nervously as he treks along until, unable to hold it any longer, he calls out. "Uhm.. one moment. Suddenly need pee." He says in his broken tradespeak before he steps up close to one of the tree trunks and lowers his trousers.
You know, the elf doesn't have to be present for you to hear them going 'really?'
Because you can just SENSE it.
Aimarra - just _stops_. If her eyes rolled any harder, they'd go bouncing off down the trail. But - she stops. Folds her arms, waits. "I hope you checked that you aren't pissing on a fey tree, because if you are I'll watch and laugh."
Rumbo suddenly yelps and jumps back away from the tree, hopping on his real leg with his wooden one flailing about as he pulls up his trousers in blind panic and stares at Aimarra!
Rumbo makes some sort of holy symbolic movement with his hand as he prays aloud. "Gunahkar whatever fate strikes out, please don't let it be some fey tree grabbing me by my chap!" <goblin-talk>
Jozi doesn't say anything about goblins. She thinks a lot about it, but doesn't say it. She looks back to Rumbo, then Aimarra, then back, "Yer drizzlin, sugar!" she chortles, taking some amusement with the bantering. She looks to teh dwarf, and, "How you holdin' up?"
Randolf watches Rumbo go with a grunt. "Should've gone afore we left," he grumbles. He looks to Aimarra as she makes that particular threat, eyes going wide. "Ye... ye dinne suppose they're -here-, do ye?" he asks, looking back and around. Suddenly -every- tree is suspect. A glance is given to Jozi as he swallows. "I'm managin', I'll warrant. I'll be happier when we're back in Alexandria, fer certain sure."
"Mmmhm."
The elf's voice echoes from the trees near the creek you're approaching.
It would appear that's them asking you to get back to business!
"Maybe you ought to think before you drop your trousers. Come on, let's go." Aimarra ignores the stare, turning to move on down the trail and unslinging her bow as she goes.
Rumbo hurries along with the others to see what the elf is MMmmmMMmmmming about.
"Think -first-?" Jozi asks innocently, fluttering her eyelashes, "Is that even legal?" A giggle, then, she's back to business.
You emerge alongside a creek bed where you find the elf standing.
"The tracks end here at the water's edge. I have already looked around the area while you were ... detained. There is nothing here, which is ... concerning? Yes? That is your word for it. It lacks some of the levels of depth but ... "
They kneel down by the water's edge, gently flicking at a lily pad with their finger. "Hmm."
Rumbo steps out into the river, poking at the riverbed with his wooden peg-leg.
Randolf squats down by the river, peering at the tracks. He looks up and around with a dour frown. "What d'ye suppose happened? They dinne just sprout wings an' fly off, did they...?"
GAME: Aimarra rolls survival+1: (1)+11+1: 13 (EPIC FAIL)
Rumbo steps back out of the water and thrusts his compass away so that he has a hand free to pull out an old goblin army knife. Working at it Rumbo begins operating it to find a specific function.
GAME: Rumbo rolls Perception: (1)+9: 10 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Randolf rolls perception: (12)+2: 14 GAME: Jozi rolls perception: (15)+8: 23
You search around the stream bed for a while, trying to identify the missing men, but eventually, just as you're about to give up, Jozi catches sight of an older, hollowed out tree stump. A glimpse of fabric on the inside.
After that, they're abel to produce some tattered clothing that looks like it's logger's wear.
That's odd.
Rumbo frowns and asks simply in his broken tradespeak, "So.. ah, camping here?"
"Hmmm... whatta you boys make a this, here?" Jozi asks as she drifts toward one of the trees, that seems to have a hollow with some, "Someone lost some threads here..."
"...hm," says the cloaked elf.
They do not seem impressed with the find. "Odd. Why are the clothes in there?"
They walk in a circle around where Jozi found them.
There is a frown on their face.