Thursday, September 22, 2016

When We Last Left Our Heroes . . . (episode 4)

In the morning Avantador discovered Graver in his closet. (*Successful perception check) He was none too pleased: “Listen, it doesn’t even cost that much to pay for a room . . . and we just got paid for a job!  You can afford this!” It surely fell on deaf ears.

At least Avantador was able to convince Graver to slip back out the window, so it wouldn’t look . . . uh, suspicious. (*rolls another successful athletics check) . . . and that's what he did. Graver was out the window and heading back in to the inn through the front door.

When our adventurers finally all pulled back together in the tavern. The proprietors were already serving tea to Melancholy and looking at the rest of us like . . . what’s wrong with this one? Why did she sleep here under a table? (I believe this is when the now infamous teaching moment happened with Melancholy where we went over how money worked.) 

Did I mention Althea spent the night in the forest?


After this short meeting we immediately went to Sister Garaele’s church and picked up a beautiful golden comb.  It was explained to us that there was a Banshee in the fey woods, which sat a couple days out of town.  The Banshee would take this trinket in exchange for information that Sister Garaele was seeking (something about a spell book?) . . . unless the Banshee decided to kill us first. HAHahaha! *nervous NPC laughter. 

Melancholy grabbed the comb, hugged Sister Garaele, and bolted! And we followed! And suddenly we were on the quest to talk to a Banshee! (Yup, forget the town full of red cloaks. Forget Gundrun Rockseeker.  Melancholy was on the job, and the rest of us were just trying to keep up.)

After a day’s travel it was time for us to take watches. Althea had found a so-called "great" spot for us to hole up in for the night (*failed survival check from the elf), and Graver and Avantador would take the first watch. As it turned out (*failed perception check from the night watch), a couple of wolves got the jump on Avantador and suddenly he had one stuck to his shoulder in a death-grip bite.

Avantador staggered and yelped, “Wolves!” to wake up Althea and Melancholy while retaliating to the bite by using his silver Dragonborn breath to not only freeze the wolf on his shoulder but also give the other wolf a severe case of frost-bitten hide. Graver sprung up to action and dragged his dagger through the wolf that was biting Avantador . . . and dealt a killing blow. 

The other wolf was outta there as it now realized it was outnumbered 4 to 1, even though Althea and Melancholy both woke sobbing, “Don’t hurt the puppies!” 

“BUT IT BIT ME!” yelled Avantador.

*blank uncaring stares from Althea and Melancholy at Avantador*

“. . . look who's got dinner? . . . ”

*Insert gasps of anger and sadness from the dog lovers*

(Click to enlarge)

. . . and here is where our DM grins and says, “You hear the sounds of wolf pups in the background . . . it appears you’ve slept in a wolf den.” Avantador glared at Althea and mumbled under his breath “Nice place to camp.”

The adventurers made the smart decision to now move camp for the night to well outside of the Den. The dog lovers of the group also left another full day’s rations there for the now-single-parent-wolf-with-frost-bite.

The rest of the night finished without event. Althea and Melancholy watched the other wolf return for the pups (and the free food) during the second watch and all appeared right again in the wolf den . . . minus one parent. 

. . . there was a reluctant burial for what ended up NOT being dinner in the morning . . .



The next day our adventurers ended up approaching a ridge where below there was a sad small town with the fey forest in the distance.

The next night was thankfully also spent uneventfully. (They all can't be action packed days, right? Right!)

As the group moved through the town the next day, they were approached by a strange man who asked our business there. While the most part of the group tried to be very curt in our responses, Melancholy was ready to spill the most minute details of our plan . . . including the fact that we owned a semi-precious golden comb . . . to this not-so-upstanding-looking gentleman.  Thankfully he decided not to try anything with us. (*there was definitely the sound of rolls being made by the DM here) Something about him looked off, but at least he verified the rumors of a Banshee in the woods.


As we made our way into the Fey Forest, the woods seemed to have its eyes upon us. Twisted bark seemed to grab at our feet. Darkened branches seemed to scratch at our faces. The sounds of the magical fey world chirped and whirred around us. In a word it was creepy. 

Eventually we came to a clearing with a huge gnarled tree that had a door in its trunk.  This had to be the Banshee’s home. Althea and Graver stayed outside the tree as lookouts, and Melancholy and Avantador slowly opened the door to say hello.

(to be continued . . .)

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