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:ooc: First we start with some tests:

TN 18 wisdom by PC

Anar started up the path, even as Arbogast made his warning. The Dwarf did not seem to hear or heed, instead walking towards the sound of someone crying.

The others pursued after their companion - the two experienced with Mirkwood seemingly unaffected by the odd air - but Hathcyn and Anar had a sudden feeling of vertigo. It was as if the forest rolled, or they spun upon the ground on which they walked. It threw both off balance and Arbogast spoke in warning.

"Heed my voice! Do not lose yourselves!"

Down the trail, hanging between the great trunks of two trees was a woman laced in webs. Her face was one of terror and she cried out when she saw Anar.

"HELP ME! PLEASE! DO NOT LEAVE ME TO THIS DEATH!"

The Fire-watcher squinted at the visage and wondered if it were real, though his mind said yes. Still, the memories of before cried out in warning.

The Dwarf ran to where the woman hung and he shouted, "Fear not! We have come! I will have you out in no time."

He brought up his axe and swung it gingerly to cut the strong threads that bound her tight.

:ooc: two new tests...for Anar

TN 14 great axe 2d


TN 14 athletics 2d

:ooc: RESULTS

• With a the 16 :%: :%: success, Anar fills the 3 success requirement to cut the woman free of the webs.
• With his 15 success, he does not become entangled himself.

---

Grimbeorn watched as Anar skillfully used his axe to slice the webbed cocoon from the larger net, and the woman tumbled free. Though she was still wrapped in webs, she no longer hung suspended between the trees.

Still, the Beorning and the Fire-watcher could see as black tendrils of web reached out to cling to the Dwarf. Unknowing to his danger, Anar pulled free with each swipe of his great axe.

They all now stood around the victim - she pushed herself free of the web, even as Anar finished cutting it away. "Thank you!" she cried. "Thank you!"

Hathcyn stormed in along side of the dwarf. Anar had the lead but the long strides of the man caught up with the dearf as he freed the women. He stopped and took a solid stance guarding both with his spear tip he faced the outwr circle and looked for the beast.

"There is something off about this place," muttered Grimbeorn. "What do think Arbogast?"

Arbogast nods in response.  "Watch out for anything amiss," he says. 

Addressing the newly-freed woman, he asks "What is your name, and from where do you hail?"

:ooc: In case it isn't clear, Arbogast is trying to determine whether this woman is actually a survivor of the river boat or is a malicious phantasm.  He's assuming that Tylquin won't know many details about the lives of the Woodmen, so he'll ask for details to back up what she says, and will be looking for inconsistencies. 

If you need an Insight roll, have this one:

:ooc: Well shit, that's not good. 

 :ooc: whelp, now we are all doomed.....

They could see she was young and her eyes held terror, even as Anar released her from the binding webs. "I am Amaswinta, daughter of Amas, of Woodland Hall." Her voice trembled in fear, but also with the fact that she was now freed, "Please tell me you are real! Please do not be another lie of my eyes."

She rolled onto her knees and screwed her fists tightly into the wells of her eyes.

"We are real, girl," came the gruff reply of the Dwarf. "How did you find yourself to be here."

With her eyes still covered, "A boat...I was part of crew on a river-barge. We sought a passage to the East Bight via the Dusky. One of our own spoke of a lost river that runs through the Heart of Mirkwood and could maybe bring us to Sunstead. If we found it, we could win the gold of Ceawin! For such a passage would assure safer transit through the forest.

"I...the river was rough. I live but I fear all others have been lost."

Grimbeorn only half listened to the conversation, more intent on paying attention to their surroundings.  He would not be taken by surprise or ambushed.

"All were thought lost, yet here you are others there may be too. We aim to find them or know their fate."

The woman's face went suddenly ashen, as a new memory pervaded her thoughts. "I remember now...the river seemed to rise against us and I watched as Everard was washed from the bow! And then we were thrust off the main stream and into a side tributary that led into the woods. We could not control our craft and soon it was foundering. A tree limb hanging low dragged me from my place and into the water...I barely reached the ball of roots that were near at hand. I was being pinned against root by the current...and then the horror came!"

Amaswinta began to panic on the ground. She scrambled backwards against her haunted memory, desperately looking around to see if the threat was real. It took the companions a short passage of time to calm her panic and get her to breath normally, once more. She now sat panting, "I felt its clawed legs pull me out of the water and haul me up into the tree. I never thought I would see day again, but then I was awake and suspended in a web...and now you are here.

"I cannot believe any others still live."

"We are here to acertain that lady."

"What shall we do with the lady, while we search?" asked the Dwarf.

The four looked at one another and the thought was evident on their faces - they had not expected survivors, and thus no plan had been made for the event.

"She will have to come with us," said Arbogast, seeing no other option.

"Wha...?" Anar began to contest the idea, but the woman interjected.

"I can come. I may even be of aid. I am a shield-maiden of Woodland Hall!" her voice tried to feign strength, though her body was weak. "I will not stay behind, but neither shall I be a burden. I just need a few minutes to rest."

The Company all looked around once more, and each came to the consensus with a nod.

Amaswinta was leaned up against a tree and Hathcyn provided her with his cloak. The woman's body showed evidence of exposure to the elements and he wondered at her well-being. She shivered under the woolen cloak, as the companions made a defensive ring about their position - each staring out into the thick woods around.

In the distance, the sound of the rushing Eldosa tributary could be heard but it had become faint. Arbogast stared at the evident Elf-trail and wondered at their fortune - or danger. Was this another ruse to lead them into a trap? Again his mind flashed back to a summer before and he physically shook away the memories. He turned back to the woman once more and doubt filled his heart. The Fire-watcher reached out and jabbed two fingers into her ribs.

"OW!" started Amaswinta.

"What the...?" said Hathcyn with a challenge upon his face.

"Forgive me, woman," said the Man of Black Tarn. "Doubt fills me and I needed to be sure." He looked at Hathcyn, "We need to be sure. I did not do it in malice, but I had to ascertain that you are real."

"Real?" asked the woman with an incredulous look. "Of course I am real!"

The Fire-watcher was unphased by her anger or his companions' stares, "As I said, we needed to be sure."

Arbogast resumed his watch out into the woods.

Hathcyn parted with a glass of his treasured ale he received in parting from the hall. He poured it into the horn and offered it to the woman.

He then stood and looked about the area and pondered.

"I am not familiar with the beasts of these woods, but when I think about spiders there are some things I can consider. Firewatcher, is this there a web strand along the trail? Any spider i have seen does not leave its prey at random, but usually connected to a main thread. Could we follow the thread to find survivors? No doubt the beast knows we are here and has felt us cutting her web. We all here have hunted, the beast probably uses this trail to stalk prey. Perhaps we follow the trail without walking on the trail?"

"We should continue on in some fashion," said Grimbeorn, resigned to the situation.  He offers the woman some dried food and water, but doesn't keep her from his sight for too long.  "This position isn't safe, a known haunt of spiders."

Amaswinta fell into a slumber, while the men watched.

Time passed.

Though it was hard to perceive, Arbgoast knew the sun crossed over the forest and had passed its zenith. The days had become longer with the return of Spring, but under the forest that light did not last.

"Should we return her and then resume this search?" the question came from Anar. The Dwarf had long been silent, finding discomfort under the boughs. Hathcyn remembered his quiet phases when they had worked side-by-side along the Dwarf Road.

The other three each turned to look on the Dwarf, but Arbogast spoke first, "I believe it the wise thing to do, but I also think we will not return to this place and if others live, they will be lost."

"A Dwarf never forgets where he walks," answered Anar.

"Maybe so, Anar, but Mirkwood is different...it is as if the forest moves and changes to trick those that enter its folds."

"Pish-posh!" was the Dwarf's response.

"I have no doubt that you could find your way back here, Anar," answered Arbogast in rebuke, "But I know the forest will not be that which we left. Surely you have experienced this whil'st working upon your road?"

Anar stared a moment and then answered with a nod. For certain it was that many times they had returned from a tree-clearing, laborious day only to find their camp gone, or the forest encroaching once more upon where they had previously worked.

"Why do Men live here?" the question sought no answer, it was just Anar's musing.

Their soft conversation caused the woman to stir.

"How long have I slept?"

"T'was near on two hours," answered Grimbeorn, who had been silent to this point.

Amaswinta stretched and rubbed at her eyes, "Forgive me...I did not mean to keep you so long."

"It is okay, woman. You needed rest. If others are trapped, as you, they will still be there when we find them."

"But will they be alive?" the shield-maiden began to stand.

"That is the question to be answered," replied Grimbeorn. The large man wondered at Anar's opine from earlier...why would Men live here?

They gave the woman a few more minutes to prepare herself and then the companions moved on - Amaswinta in tow.

The Elf-path opened up the forest before them.

:ooc: Sorry guys! You responded very quickly!

I will keep your posts as they are because they work well with the scene, I am just going to place both into the story-progression for after she awakes.

You guys have this conversation and offer her the food and drink while she readies herself.

Is that cool?

:ooc: I need to make a couple of test rolls here:

Travel - though you guys have been stationary the forest and another power is bending its will against you and fatigue is a threat; Grimbeorn has his Twice-baked Honeycakes that reduces the Fatigue difficulty by his Wisdom rating. I am fine with this ability, but I think it needs limited it to a finite number of times it can be used per journey. As it is a Virtue and thus based on Wisdom, what do you guys think of a number of times equal to his Wisdom score?

Wisdom - the area is a blighted place and you guys are lingering long

TN 18 travel by PC






TN 18 wisdom by PC

:ooc: RESULTS UPDATED

Travel tests:

Grimbeorn uses Twice-baked Honeycakes (♦○○○○ per journey) to reduce the Travel TN by 5 to 13
 
• Anar fails with a 4 and gains 2 fatigue [:vv: cannot help]  :csu:
• Arbogast succeeds with a 13
• Grimbeorn succeeds with a 21
• Hathcyn fails with an 11 and gains 2 fatigue [decides against using a :vv:]  :csu:
• Amaswinta succeeds with a 16


Corruption tests:

• Anar fails with a 16 and gains 1 shadow  :csu:
• Arbogast fails with a 16 and gains 1 shadow  :csu:
• Grimbeorn succeeds with a 23
• Hathcyn fails with an 8 and gains 1 shadow [spending a :vv: will not achieve a success]  :csu:
• Amaswinta succeeds with an 18 :%: :%:

Obviously, a :vv: can be applied to either test above for your PC's, if you want to spend the resource.

Let me know, as I will hold the games next phase until I get all of your responses regarding :vv: usage and Twice-baked Honeycakes.

 :ooc: i'll take the shadow point.

 :ooc: do you mean fatigue?

 :ooc:  Use Twice-baked Cakes.

 :ooc: yes

Hathcyn was grabbed by inner turmoil. He was not comfortable with the woods or the situation. He looked around them and thought of the time he spent on the road with the dwarves and his travels so far with the Woodmen. He had a growing dislike for this place, and spiders specifically.

"Let us spend the night here."

Hathcyn turned to his companions.
"To go on blindly is a folly and may lead to the ruin of is all, but it is mot necessary that we do so."

Hathcyn paused again and looked at his companions and the wood. Then he lingered on Grimbeorn before speaking again.

"I will say this only among this company and because our need is dire. There are among our folk what you would call skin changers. This is a simple word that is misunderstood, but partially correct. There are those that in spirit commune with our tribal totems and may walk among them in their form. A connection to our human and animal ancestors. The line of the River Maidens may be something like this."

"There are a few of these people among our folk who are capable of doing this more easily than others."

He looked again at Grimbeorn and then his friends.

"I am one of them."

"If we spend the night I will be able to take the night form of my people. In that form I can move faster and cover more ground than we can on foot. Perhaps I can locate any other survivors, or perhaps I can find a clearer path for us. In morning we can decide if we press on or return. This is not without danger and the wood works it's will against us to make this even more difficult, and the great spider is out there. I am willing to do this so that we all do not press blindly further into the wood."

:ooc: I'll take the Shadow point.  What's one more?  :csu:

:ooc: Before I post, let's do a quick Explore roll to see how well Arbogast can read the nearby terrain:



Doug, I'm assuming that the TN is the usual 14 but obviously being in one of the shittier bits of Mirkwood could up that.  Let me know if I need to meet a higher level. 

 :ooc: that is a :%: success

What are you trying to learn or see?

:ooc: He's trying to do his Natural Awareness trick of seeing what the nearby terrain is like, specifically looking for defensible spots - large but hollow trees, high ground etc.  My thinking is that we don't want to linger here any longer than is necessary - certainly not spending the night - and that somewhere easily defended (and less blighted, but there isn't really any way to tell that without going there) would be preferable. 

When Arbogast turns to the lanky Beorning, his face is ashen beneath the grime of travel.  "Your suggestion has merit, but we must not tarry here where the Shadow lies thick and heavy."  He points in a direction roughly parralel to the course of the stream.  "Perhaps fifty paces in that direction stands a hollow tree that may be large enough to shelter us, and to hide us from the spiders if we are careful." 

:ooc: Sorry, Paul! I guess it would have been nice if I responded to your inquiry from this AM. I was slammed today, but you are fine with your narrative and dialogue. Feel free to elaborate a bit more on it - I trust you will fill in Mirkwood's details without interfering in what threats are about.

I will get a game response up tomorrow at some point.

Hathcyn did nor question how the woodman knew about this place. He simply nodded and motioned for him to lead the way.

"Anar, this is deeper and darker than where the road goes in the north. We should not assume that we know its ways or the depth of its evil."

Following Arbogast's lead, the companions moved in the direction of the old hollowed tree. The Fire-watcher remembered it being not far, but it seemed the sun continued its path across the sky as they searched. The Elf-path was left behind and they wondered if it would be easy to find once more.

One thing was certain to Hathcyn, he could no longer hear the river. As the marched, Amaswinta asked, "Is there a weapon I might have? I will make good use of it!"

At last, the hollow stood out among the other trees, rising into the canopy above but without anymore branches - just a trunk colored-green with moss and lichen. Dark was the inside and it was large enough to allow two-men to stand abreast. They could not defend from within, but they could ascertain that any threats would have to come from one direction.

---

:ooc: Tests again... no penalty on this one for failure, other than not being successful  ;)

TN  :g: wisdom by PC

:ooc: I will wait for you to tell me your next moves.

I will tell you guys that time seems to be weird now. You are no longer sure how far from the river you marched, or even from where you cut Amaswinta free. Fatigue is slowly mounting on those that have failed their previous travel rolls, and dark feelings are entering the hearts of those that failed their last few corruption tests.

The forest clicks and buzzes with the sounds of strange insects and frogs. It is thicker here than anything you ever remember and it is gloom. The air is heavy and it seems to muffle the ears.

"Here," the Beorning says, handing the woman his hunting knife, but to her the size of a dagger.  "It's not much, but it is a good blade."
-----
"You rest," says Grimbeorn.  "I will keep the watch.  I cannot abide this evil place and no rest comes easily to me here."

"Build no fire," Arbogast says to his companions.  "Though Amaswinta's freeing has doubtless been marked, it is possible that the evil things of this place know not yet where we have gone." 

As Grimbeorn positions himself at the mouth of the hollow, the Fire-watcher settles down into a fitful half-sleep.  It seems to him as if days and leagues flow back and forth like unseen currents in a still pond, bringing visions of companions present and past, living and dead.  All that he may be certain of is that Tylquin will not deign to let prey go easily.

:ooc: I will get a post up later today

:ooc: Lies!  LIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEESSSSS!!

Quote from: Eclecticon on Feb 18, 2019, 03:23 PM:ooc: Lies!  LIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEESSSSS!!

:ooc: LOL! Tough crowd around here.

:ooc: Some tests...

Fatigue**
TN 18 (or 13) by PC






**The TN for this test can be reduced to 13 if Grimbeorn uses another of his stash of Honey-cakes

Corruption
TN 18 by PC

:ooc: RESULTS

IF Grimbeorn uses a stash of his cakes this is the results, otherwise people will need to spend some Hope as listed:

• Anar will succeed with a 16 success (or will need to use a :vv: )
• Arbogast will succeed with a 16 :%: success (or will need to use a :vv: )
• Grimbeorn rolled an :~~: and will have to spend a :<3: no matter what to save
• Hathcyn will succeed with a 15 :%: success (or will need to use a :vv: )
• Amaswinta will succeed with a 16 success (or will need to use a :vv: )

• Anar fails and gains 2 Shadow (rolled an :~~: )
• Arbogast succeeds with a 23
• Grimbeorn succeeds with a 25 :%:
• Hathcyn fails and gains 1 Shadow (a :<3: will not help)
• Amaswinta succeeds with a 19

So - Matt, let me know if you use another Honey-cake option, and everyone else tell me if you are spending any :<3: if he does not. Matt, your PC is 1 away from becoming Miserable, you may want to take the Fatigue instead.

The Company sat within the hollow of the tree, but rest was hard to achieve. The gloom of Mirkwood became thicker as the day passed until utter darkness replaced all.

Per Arbogast's instruction, no fire was set which made for a terrifying night filled with strange croaks and creaks, buzzing in ears that caused the watcher to jump and swat at some unseen thing, and an intense feeling that something watched them - a foul dark spirit that weaved terrible dark webs. It leeched into their spirits and they shivered under blankets due to more than just a chill.

If they whispered to one another, the sound of their voices seemed louder than intended, which caused them to clip off their words before the thought was complete. If they moved, the sound of crunching leaves and other detritus was horrible and surely signaled their location to anything that might be near.

Yet the only thing that bothered them through the night was the shadows and their own fears. Like a heavy blanket of despair laying over them all, each watcher sat in nervous silence as the night passed. But pass it did and slowly the darkness brightened into the gloom that was daytime under Mirkwood.

Grimbeorn reached into his pack and extended to each of the company one of his delicious twice-baked cakes, which quickly reduced the fatigue that weighed them down. Still the Beorning was moody and he seemed ready to snap on anyone that spoke. One of whom was the Dwarf, who also was having his fill of this journey.

"What do we wait for, Arbogast? You said that we should come here for safety and we have seen another night through in this dreadful forest, but what do we now wait for?

"Are we going to continue to seek the others of this foolish boat journey, or do we get this woman back to where she belongs? Can they possibly still be alive, those others that we have yet to find?"

Arbogast sat quietly as Anar grumbled. He looked around him. Where were they?

Yes, the old hollow was here, but how had he known that? Where were they within the forest?

The Fire-watcher looked left to where the river lay...no, it was that way, wasn't it? That is west, right?

Arbogast shook his head. It was getting to him! The forest was turning them around. The steps that they had taken under the boughs were longer than what he believed...or were they? Were they deeper within the Heart than he reckoned?

Outside of the hollowed tree, nothing looked familiar.

With a harrumph, Anar stood and walked from their camp to a discreet place where he relieved himself. "Should have gone back with the Rohirrim," he mumbled behind his tree.

:ooc: Tests again... no penalty on this one for failure, other than not being successful  ;)

This is essentially a Wisdom test, but the only die that matters is the Feat die, so...

TN :g: Wisdom by PC

:ooc: Yikes! Anar rolled an :~~:

I have to use that.

I will reply with more once I get some more dialogue. You guys are really starting to feel lost.

And let me nix any thoughts of maybe rolling an Explore or Lore test to try and sort out your positions. No PC can make an additional test beyond their normal Fatigue and Corruption while the spell affects are upon you all, and the only way to 'break' the spell affect is to roll a :g:

:ooc: Has Hathcyn been able to do his Night-goer thing?  That's why we waited overnight, after all.

:ooc: I wasn't sure if it was happening, so if he wants to do that, I can morph that into the last post that narrates what everyone else deals with.

Give me until tonight to update.

In the meantime, Tom - what is it you are trying to do or achieve in your beast-form?

 :ooc: yes, the night trip was for taking a shot at Night Goer. Hathcyns goal is to to try and cover more ground looking for any sign of the other members of the boat. Either confirmation of their deaths or signs of their living. The next goal was to get an idea of a possible way out of there. Im assuming he'll get no rest as a result and probably suffer some fatigue. If not somehow captured or killed in spirit form. I thought this would be a neat opportunity to play with the night goer mechinic and see how ir developed narratively.

 :ooc: Awesome, I was going to write a post tonight, but we just finished our live Roll20 game and I am mentally drained on creativity. I will post in the morning.

 :ooc: I apologize, I missed the updated.  Use the Honey-cakes, I'll spend what I need to regarding the Corruption.

The bear within clawed and growled deep within Grimbeorn.  Instinctively he could feel that he was being toyed with, that he was beset by some foul sense and he couldn't make out what it was.  The party grew discontent and noisome -- how could he keep watch if they continued to distract him?  It took all his willpower to not snap back at them all, not to let out the beast within.  But it grows...

QuoteIf they whispered to one another, the sound of their voices seemed louder than intended, which caused them to clip off their words before the thought was complete. If they moved, the sound of crunching leaves and other detritus was horrible and surely signaled their location to anything that might be near.

Hathcyn's Night-goer trip below is inserted here into our story line - 1 :vv: spent  :csu:

Yet the only thing that bothered them through the night was the shadows and their own fears. Like a heavy blanket of despair laying over them all, each watcher sat in nervous silence as the night passed. But pass it did and slowly the darkness brightened into the gloom that was daytime under Mirkwood.

As Arbogast took the first watch and the others lay close to sleep, Hathcyn allowed his mind to drift into a trance-like state - not asleep, but no longer aware of his immediate surrounds. The Beorning thought of the totem animals to which his kindred were tied and though he was of the bear, again he took on the much more preferred mind of the fox - wily and quiet.

The Fire-watcher heard the strange, ghostly sound of barking yips, even as Hathcyn entered his night-goer's state and left his body. Strange was the sound, as only insects and frogs had been heard since the river.

Moving at great speed, the spirit-form began to roam the forest surrounding the hollowed tree in an ever-widening circle, in search of the remaining survivors. The trees stirred above it - not from the wind, but by other living things - things of shadow and darkness.

What is it? came a hiss.

It moves but is not there, but is, came a reply.

In his spirit-form, Hathcyn could hear and understand the wicked voices that spoke.

It seeks something. Watch it go.

Can we kill it? Can we eat it? I hunger! She would not give us the last.

Above the fox, the trees moved.

The spiders were large, but incredibly nimble and fast. They weaved through the maze of branches and leaves, following and leaving a trail of webs, as they went. As Hatchyn advanced, more followed and soon the leaves rustled with their passing. Still, the spirit-animal paid no heed and raced on through the darkness.

There it was. The river.

Near its edge, Hathcyn, saw that a web draped the span between a huge outcrop of rock and a tree that grew close at hand. Two cocoons of silk were hanging within the web - neither moved. The fox sniffed at the air and smelled only death.

"WHO ARE YOU?" came an inquisitive voice. It was old, but eternal. Feminine but made of nightmares. It filled Hathcyn's head, as it filled the area around the mass of rock. The spirit-form felt a presence surrounding it now and looked to see many spiders encircling where it stood. Above, a darker shape slid down the side of the rock.

"OHHH... I SEE WHAT YOU ARE. FLY HOME TO YOUR BODY, SWEET SPIRIT. WE WILL BE DRINKING YOUR LIFE JUICES SOON ENOUGH." There came a skin-crawling giggle. "AND LET THE FIRE-WATCHER KNOW...WE NEVER FORGET."

With an unseen signal or unheard word, the mass of spiders around the fox suddenly surged forward and fell onto Hathcyn's spirit form. Fangs sank deep into the animal and it was crushed under the weight.

Back at the hollow, the Beorning cried awake - panting and sweating. His companions jumped awake at his cry, and all stared in wonder at what looked to be a neat set of two punctures in his torso. The pain burned, but they were not deadly.

Around them, the forest slowly began to appear as the gloom of morning appeared.

:ooc: I am rolling the following tests after the fact, but I want to see how well you did in spirit-form:

Explore
TN 14 explore 3d



Stealth
TN 16 stealth 2d



Travel
TN 18 travel 2d



Wisdom

:ooc: RESULTS

• fails explore with an 11 - he does not remember and so does not know where the river is, or the large rock

• fails the stealth roll and so is watched by the spiders along the way

• succeeds at travel and so does not gain any fatigue from his nightly roam

• fails the wisdom test, which needs to be a :g: result, and doesn't gain the benefit of that test.

Hathcyn takes 2 :<3: damage from the spider bite that sent him back to his human self.

As noted above, he used 1 :vv: to engage Night-goer

Also - Grimbeorn is now Miserable

 :ooc: Is everyone ok with me using a point of Hope from the Fellowship Pool for Night Goer? We have those Hope points and never seem to use them as a group.. Also, we get those back.

Hathcyn awoke with a start and a gasp. He had never experienced any other travel like that in his spirit form. His mind raced back to the death of his brother, a death he was attributed to and he was slow to recover. His companions saw him bolt awake with a start and a whimper, and then his eyes steadied onto to the present moment and the companions around him.

"We should go and quickly." Hathcyn said with a start and the edge of fear in his voice.

 The great spider knows we are here and her servants seek to ensnare us, they are many and above us in the trees. She is ancient, evil, and cunning and now she has bent her will against us. Even the other spiders fear her and hunger because she claims all the treasures, even the ones they trap on their own."


Hathcyn sat up and examined the wounds in his chest. "Firewatcher, your knowledge is beyond mine and I have no idea of what hurt they may have caused me, even in spirit form."



Arbogast bent and examined the wound while the Beorning steadied himself.


"Well, what did you find that was useful?" Asked the dwarf. 

"I saw the river, a great rock and an ancient tree. This is where I found her, a great arching web that dominated the riverway and like the water branched out in many directions. Lines of her hate gripped all unmoving things. There in her web were two more cocoons, like those we saw yesterday, but these held only the dead. I was pursued and hunted, but I made my way there where she spoke to me. I have never heard such an ancient and evil being speak. We have no beast in our history to compare it to. They fell upon me and I awoke, but they know we are here and seek to trap us. I am sorry but the way was crooked and bent in the spirit world as it is here and I do not know the way to or from where I was."


"One more thing. Firewatcher. She knows you by title if not by name. I know now why your folk are secretive about your names for she knows the Firewatcher and seeks him. She knows you are here and her hate and revenge are bent upon you."

Quote from: Telcontar on Feb 22, 2019, 10:13 AM:ooc: Is everyone ok with me using a point of Hope from the Fellowship Pool for Night Goer? We have those Hope points and never seem to use them as a group.. Also, we get those back.

:ooc: I am not interfering with this decision, but the Fellowship Pool is where the Hope points are restored from at the end of an Adventure Phase.

Paul and I talked and we agreed that having the never-ending pool of Hope that you get when playing at the table, takes away from the game.

That said - they are there to use.

Grimbeorn growls.  "How many of these nightmares are there?!  Did we not drive one back before?  I know I wounded that one grievously.  This axe, this claw of bear yearns to make it bleed." If any were really paying attention, he was looking at his hand instead of the axe in his other.

 :ooc: granted, but the Fellowship Pool refreshes at a rate that the characters levels do not. I also see its use for party specific actions as more appropriate than for passing an individual skill roll.

"Wolfslayer, I will go where and when you lead. However, we came here to find these people and recover those we could. Whole the spider is a danger and a threat we did not come here with the desire to kill it. I fear our party has not the skill or weapons to confront this beast right now. For such a task a wizard should be consulted, or the elves. And to answer your question, the forest top moves with the sheer number of these lesser beasts."

Coming back to his senses, Grimbeorn nods.  "And yet that decision may be taken from us.  If not here, then where to next?  Moving is better than sitting still."

"Agreed, we should move at once."

 :ooc: doug, taken what Arbogast said about illusions did Hathcyn see anything weird about the girl when he was in his spirit form?

 :ooc: No, Amaswinta is quite real.

:ooc: Damn, that was my theory too.

Arbogast suppresses a shudder as Hathcyn relays Tylquin's message.  As he examines the Beorning's wounds, he speaks his thoughts aloud.  "Our foes know that we are abroad, but not precisely where we are, else it is not in their nature to strike until they are certain that we are weakened and desperate.  If I am right, then we have yet a chance to escape before they close in, and if what Hathcyn has found is true, then there is no reason for us to tarry." 



:ooc: I'm going to make a Healing roll to examine Hathcyn's injury in case there's anything Arbogast can do for it, but I'm not expecting anything much to come of it. 

When he has done all he can for his companion, he straightens and points out of the hollow.  "The river is that way," he says.

But is it, he wonders. If the Weaver knows of our presence, then doubtless we are already ensnared in some deception and nothing that meets our eyes may be trusted.  What then can we do but continue moving and hope that some clear falsehood appears to us?  Oh Anar, would that I had your keen Dwarven eyes in the gloom!

:ooc: I will have a post up tonight

:ooc: It didn't happen last night, so it might not be until Sunday. It is our anniversary this weekend and my brother's birthday, so going to be busy.

Sorry!

:ooc: With the party moving on, it is necessary for tests to be made:

Fatigue TN 18 (13*)






Corruption TN 18






Feat Die roll TN :g:

:ooc: RESULTS

Fatigue
• Anar succeeds with an 18 :%: :%:
• Arbogast fails with a 12 - he can only succeed if Grimbeorn uses another batch of honeycakes to reduce TN and also spend a :vv:
• Grimbeorn fails with a 14 - unless he uses honey cakes to reduce the TN to 13, or spends a :vv:
• Hathcyn fails with a 10 - he can only succeed if Grimbeorn uses another batch of honeycakes to reduce TN and also spend a :vv:
• Amaswinta fails with a 16 - unless Grimbeorn hands out cakes

* let me know if you will use another honey cake, Matt -I will update sheets accordingly.

Corruption
• Anar fails with a 12
• Arbogast succeeds with a 19
• Grimbeorn succeeds with a 21
• Hathcyn fails with a 17 - unless he spends a :vv:
• Amaswinta rolled an :~~: and so is Miserable

* Let me know if you are using a :vv:, Tom. I will update sheet accordingly.

Feat die roll
• no one is able to twist out of Tyulqin's web of illusions

Despite her ungainly size, Tyulqin moved with a nimbleness that was preternatural. She watched quietly from a distance as the companions packed their gear and began a new hike. The spider did not mind this game of waiting and wearing down her prey. In the Heart of Mirkwood, it was not long before the effects of the woods began to break the will of the strongest and bravest of Men.

Soon they would tire.

Soon they would become lost from one another.

She had seen it so many times before. Of course, her own magic weaving aided in her play and made it all the more enjoyable.

WAIT, she thought to herself, LET THEM TEAR THEMSELVES APART FIRST AND THEN WE SHALL FEED. I WILL DRAIN THE FIRE-WATCHER OF ALL HIS JUICES FOR EVERY ONE OF MY CHILDREN HE HAS SLAIN.

Her eight eyes bore into the spot where they marched. Her arms flickered and grabbed at the black silk from her spinnerets, as it weaved a web of illusion and fear, desperation and sorrow - all of the components necessary to kill them.

She giggled, DEEPER, MY SWEETS. MARCH YOURSELVES DEEPER INTO OUR WOOD!

And the company did, moving further east into the forest even as they believed they chased the sun west towards the river and freedom.

Arbogast shook his head trying to clear his mind and see some sort of familiar sight - whether it be an old tree or rock, a stream, or whatever... but nothing. Still, the sun moved above them and he followed the shadows that it made - it was the only way to judge east from west. He knew it would not be long. Soon the forest would break and the familiar lands of the Western Eaves would be revealed. Soon they would hear the Dusky River gurgling along its path.

They marched and the day grew old. The deeper gloom began to fill the woods and the companions felt their hearts become heavy with the notion that another day's march had revealed...

There it was! The sound of water gurgling along its path!

They ran towards the Dusky and their spirits leapt with a newfound joy. The woods parted and a dark river moved before them. Gnarled roots of the forest reached in and drank deeply of the fast water, but Arbogast's face furrowed into confusion.

It was not the Dusky River.

Across the river, the forest opened to reveal a hill that rose above the tree heights. Atop the hill was an ancient structure - a longhouse of wood and stone. It stood silent and dark in the waning light of day, like a shadow on the sky above.

Only the fast-moving water of the dark river, in front of them, barred their way to the structure.

:ooc: I am rolling a quick lore test for everyone, but I will want to have you guys give me your input on what you want to do about the hall and how to cross the river.

TN 16 lore by PC

:ooc: Grimbeorn is the only one that comes close to making the Lore test. Let me know if you want to use a :vv:

Arbogast, I am taking your Traits into the equation. I sent you a PM.

Ooc: yrs I'll use a hope.

:ooc: Hathcyn :csu: for :vv: to evade the Shadow point

:ooc: I'll take the fatigue points.  :csu:

Ooc: Use the Honeycakes.

:ooc: Okay, Tom - that begs the question - will you also take the Fatigue points or spend another :vv: ? Let me know.

Also, I left the story off with your decisions. How do you want to try and cross the river in front of you? Do you even want to? The longhouse is across the river - are you guys going to investigate?

The story is in your hands to continue.

As for the river - it is about 15 yards across and looks about waist deep - but it is moving fast.

Ooc: yeah i'll burn the point.


"Firewatcher, we crossed no major stream coming here. My thought is crossing one will move us in the wrong direction. Since all water flows down should we not follow it?"

 :ooc: Yes, use the Hope.

Arbogast regards the river with suspicion.  "And go where?" he replies.  "In the vastness of the wood, there may be entire valleys that Men have never seen, nor Elves in thousands of years.  If we were to follow the river, I could not say whither it would lead us." 

The river thus dismissed, he regards the longhouse upon its hill, sitting silent and patient as a tomb.  Though it lies dim and silent, and no smoke rises from its hearth, nevertheless it holds forth the promise of shelter, and perhaps protection from the denizens of this realm.  Given all that has passed since the Fellowship crossed the Dusky River, the Fire-watcher immediately suspects at trap.  And yet... it is so obviously a potential trap that it seems somehow beneath a thing so terrible as Tylquin the Weaver to set it. 

Before anyone can respond, he changes the subject.  "Yonder lies a house that ought not exist, for we tread the paths of Mirkwood's very heart, and no race of Men ever built such fine dwellings in this country.  But it is of old rumour among my people that a ghostly hall can be found beyond the Dusky River, sometimes for weal and sometimes for woe, and never in the same place twice." 

He fixes the companions, tired, hungry and dispirited, with as level a gaze as he can manage.  "Here is what I suggest.  If we ford the river, we may examine the hall more closely.  The foe that stalks us is ancient, and knows Mirkwood like no mortal Man ever will.  We might wander in a cursed dream until we died and never know, for not a single detail in her woven visions would seem false.  But she has never been known to cross the Dusky river, nor to venture close to the halls of Men, and her approximation of our dwellings would be crude.  If we find anything amiss in the construction of the longhouse, then we shall know that we are deceived.  If all appears as it should, then we may have come to a place of safety."

"Well that settles it. I'll not work for Sunstead, gold or no."

Hathcyn scratched at his beard and looked at the hall, or the remaisn of one.

"I do not like it. They say you catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar and in this case we are flies that do not desire to be caught. I have no recolletion of this riveer or this building from my night travel either."

The northman held no great desire to cross another river. Distnat now was the memory of his bath when they left the road. The clean cool water of the Anduin was nothing compaired to this morass of black water and tangle. Not quite under his breadth Hathcyn continued to murmur.

"What people would live in such a cursed wood and call it home?" The tall man kicked idealy and spitefully at a tree root near at hand. "Where is the sky in this dismal place?" 

"We go and we go together.  Inaction is worse than action now," says Grimbeorn. "Better to find out the truth as it is instead of wondering."

Arbogast nods his agreement and, hefting his pack over his head, begins to ford the river.

"Dont be hasty. Have we any rope so that we may anchor you Firewatcher?"

:ooc: Aaargh, this again! 

All Arbogast has come with, apart from basic necessities, is...







... and...

:ooc: A lousy wooden box of matches and a meagre wooden pole that barely supports a blanket as part of a lean-to.

On the other hand, he's travelling with three companions, all of a Martial standard of living.  The likelihood of one of them having enough rope to anchor a wading man seems pretty high. 

:ooc: Paul, that is the first time you lost me on a roll!  (-D

What did you roll for - the equipment you might have on you?

I will go with the same assumption that someone has a length of rope.

I do want Athletic tests, nonetheless. The rope will give each person an additional 2 success dice.

TN 14 athletics by PC

:ooc: RESULTS

• Anar loses his footing and is sent down river before being pulled back by the rope. He suffers 5 :<3: loss from being drowned and hitting rocks and roots.
• Arbogast crosses the river  :csu: (no AP left for movement)
• Grimbeorn crosses the river  :csu: (no AP left for movement)
• Hathcyn crosses the river  :csu:  (did not roll a great success minimum for movement AP)
• Amaswinta crosses the river

Wrapping a rope around a tree and securing the other end around Arbogast's waist, the Woodman began to cross the dark river. He slid down muddy embankment and into the frigid water. There was an earthy smell to the water that hinted at putrescence - as if rotting flesh washed down from some unknown distance. It was fast, but still Arbogast maintained his footing over rock and root that lay hidden beneath.

Once on the other side, the Fire-watcher took the rope from his waist and wrapped it around a strong tree on his side of the river, while Anar was secured. The Dwarf slid awkwardly down the muddy slope and cursed at the situation he was in, the river water now roiling above his knees. He began to cross and held tightly to the rope, even as Arbogast drew him closer.

Anar stepped forward and the rock under his boot turned causing his foot to go out from under his weight, which in turn caused him to be swept with the current. He disappeared under the brown water and the rope yanked in Arbogast's hands, burning his flesh. On the opposite side of the river, Grimbeorn and Hathcyn held firm their length of the rope, and so Anar was not swept away. Water filled his mouth and he spluttered and coughed as he tried to keep himself above the surface. Arbogast regained the rope and he pulled with all his might, as his companions loosened their grip letting Anar cross.

On hands and knees, the Dwarf climbed from the water on the opposite side. He was a mess of mud, small roots, and river grass that grew on the embankment - and he was unhappy. Fortunately for the remaining companions, their crossings fared better and now they all stood on the river's eastern bank...or was it western? No one had a clue as to bearing in the gloom of Mirkwood.

Beyond, the wood cleared a bit, becoming sparse around the hill that rose there. The top of which was bare, like a bald pate crowned in green. Sitting silent was the dark longhouse.

Ooc: the rolls were from the adventurers companion appendix for common gear.

:ooc: Well spotted, Tom!

The equipment takes aren't the sort of thing to rely on in a crisis, but they do add a bit of colour, especially as your standard of living determines how much gear you have, and what quality.

 :ooc: What is it with Dwarves crossing rivers in Mirkwood?

:ooc: So it is back to you guys...

Do you want to explore the dark longhouse?

Do you want to move on and try to find a way out of the dark weaving of Tyulqin?

I attach a map of where you are for player knowledge only. I will allow the PC's to discover their location only if they achieve a certain thing, which I will tell you if you do.  >:D

Arbogast casts his eye over the longhouse.  It certainly seems to be of Mannish construction, though it displays little of the wood-craft that is the hallmark of his people's work.  The door is plain enough to see, but he looks for any other sign that might mark this unexpected find as real or some new falsehood. 


:ooc: Doug, I'll make a hail-Mary Craft roll below, but I'm making a case for it not being necessary.  After all, Arbogast (and Hathcyn and Grimbeorn) have been living in longhouses like this one their entire lives.  If there's anything amiss, they can probably pick it out fairly easily. 

If not, hopefully Anar can! 

 :ooc: I will get you a response tonight or tomorrow, Paul.

Hathcyn will make and insight roll to see if he can figure anything out

 :ooc: Hanging no better idea, Grimbeorn mulls the place over, too.

 :00:

:ooc: I should point out that Insight is really for reading people in social situations.  Buildings, particularly empty ones, are notoriously inscrutable. 

"Who would be here to maintain such a place?"

Despite the danger the curious nature of Hathcyn started to get the better of hom and he started to approach the building.

:ooc: I have to agree with Paul on this one guys - Insight is more to discern deception, riddles, persuasive efforts, etc. Craft would be more of the correct roll here, as it would apply to your knowledge of buildings and who might have fashioned it.

That said, Matt rolled an :~~: and Tom would need to use at least 1 :vv: for a success - something I do not think he would want to sacrifice.

For ambiance, here is a video to run in the background as you read and write: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=__iDig5NKcA
 ;)

---

Hathcyn started up the hill towards the old structure. He could tell it was old, even in the waning light of day.

For Grimbeorn, something crawled at his skin with each glance towards the longhouse. The Beorning knew it was not natural, though it looked very much the handiwork of his own kin. Arbogast's words echoed in his ears, once more...

"Yonder lies a house that ought not exist, for we tread the paths of Mirkwood's very heart, and no race of Men ever built such fine dwellings in this country.  But it is of old rumour among my people that a ghostly hall can be found beyond the Dusky River, sometimes for weal and sometimes for woe, and never in the same place twice."

He grunted at Hathcyn's interest, wondering to what this might lead.

Beside him, Arbogast, Anar, and Amaswinta all watched with their own concerns, but the Dwarf broke the silence, "L'est you Men... and woman... have a reason as to why not, at least it will provide cover for the night."

Hathcyn now stood before the dark house's door. Marked with runes used by the Woodmen and his Beorning kin, did it read, 'O CHILD OF OAK, STAND YET AGAINST THE STORM'. The door was weathered and looked askew within its jamb, as if the wood had swelled from rain and heat and no longer fit. The old metal hinges, though one was slightly wrenched from where it was nailed, still kept the door secure on one side - the other looked to have a simple slide bar latch.

Hathcyn saw old cobwebs in cracks and spaces between the logs that made up the house, but none were irregular - they all would have been made by normal spiders. Leaves rustled where they were piled in corners, and dirt was splattered along the lower sides from rain.

Atop the hill, the wind made a soft shooshing sound as it moved the tree tops above. The longhouse creaked with sounds of settling, and there was a smell of mildew and spoiled oats. No call of threat or challenge was received - only the sounds of an old building cooling off from a day's sun.

 :ooc: Was thinking that before I saw your response...

"This..." Grimbeorn looks around.  "This isn't right.  It's more of a bad dream than a reality.  What are we to trust if our senses are all fooled?"

"Indeed," the Fire-watcher answers.  "But perhaps we are come to the point where two dreams intersect.  See here," he says, pointing out the runes carved on the lintel.  "We have known spiders to speak, but never to write, and certainly not in this mode.  Whatever manner of phantasm this hall may be, it is no creation of Tylquin's." 

And I am ready to clutch at anything that is not of her making, he admits, though not aloud.   Instead, he steps forward and gives three decisive knocks on the door. 

Only a hollow echo responded to each knock.

Hathcyn paused.

"Well we have here a clearing, may we not at the least learn east from west?"

Arbogast shakes his head.  "You who were raised under an open sky may not credit it, but I know east from west even under the darkest of Mirkwood's boughs.  Every sign I have seen tells me that we are travelling westward, yet if this were so, we should already have arrived at the Dusky River.  Nothing that our eyes tell us in this place may be trusted." 

Light of the lamp, he thinks, I wonder how much the black webs already cover us.  Have we even truly moved, or are we already hanging in Tylquin's larder, lost in a dark dream of endless, weary flight?

Putting such dark thoughts aside, he says "Inside, it may be different.  This hall is no creation of the Weaver's, and it may be that she has no power over those within." 


:ooc: Arbogast is going to wait a moment for any retort.  If none are forthcoming, he's going to push the door open. 

With a groan, the old oaken door opened to reveal an empty, dark interior. The smell of old air and mildew wafted out and caused the man to cough at its pungency.

A crack of limbs below caused them all to turn and look, but naught was there - only the swaying of a large tree upon the river.

With a raised eyebrow and a shrug, Arbogast enters the hall. 

Am I being lured inside by the promise of safety, or chased with the suggestion of a threat?  How much of any of this can I trust?  The Fire-watcher's mind gnaws on these questions like a hound with a bone, but finds no answers forthcoming. 

The remaining companions watched as Arbogast entered the longhouse.

With a shrug, Anar said, "At least we will not spend another night inside the hollow of a tree!"

He followed with Amaswinta close behind.

The woman looked nervous, but it was clear that she was tired and weak from the whole ordeal. The fact that they were still lost within the woods was draining her will to continue. The dark longhouse was the first symbol of normalcy and it bolstered her, even in her trepidation.

---

:ooc: I will give you guys a bit more time to give your PC narrative/dialogue before I continue.

"There is no need for all to rush in to a darkened house at once."

Hathcyn stalled, "well Woodman, what do you see?"

There was no reply to Hathcyn's question, only the distant sound of a thump. He was sure it was the sound of a door closing.

The Beorning blinked his eyes to ascertain that the longhouse was still there and its door was wide open. It was.

Inside the darkness was deep and he could see no shape of his friends, or movement.

In the breeze that blew through the trees above, Hathcyn thought he heard the echo of someone crying out.

Hathcyn looked at Grimbeorn, "this is a house of woe."

"Woe befell long ere we found this place.  Torches, lamps... what do we have?  I will enter to find Arbogast but will not do so blindly," Grimbeorn said with as much steadfastness and surety as he could muster.  There was no longer any time to question why they ventured out on this fool's errand, they must see this through to the end and return at all cost.

Hathcyn seemed to steady a bit at Grimbeorn's words.

"I'll see to it."

The man quickly worked to bring to flame the embers of their watch fire into a burning brand.

With brand held aloft Hathcyn's watched his patron enter the longhouse.

Again the man believed he heard the distant sound of a door thumping closed. Yet, it was wide open and the darkness revealed naught.

It occurred to Hathcyn now that he was alone, outside the house...and far off came the ghostly cries of people in dismay.

Hathcyn felt the knot in his stomach and heard only the swaying of trees. He spoke out loud to summon up his courage.

"Well Longspear, this is a trap if ever there was one. So much for taking the guidance of a Woodman in Mirkwood. Grimbeorn has gone, and where he goes I must follow, whether any mark my coming or going or not does not matter. By the fox and bear I must follow."

"Carrock!!!!" And with that he plunged into the darkness.