[Game Thread] Chapter I: Fires Over Brinestump

[PIG]

"Me, I’ve always wondered how folks can stand sitting around all day, doing.. well, whatever it is that especially city folk are doing all day with their time."

"Living" says the halfling to the mysterious Ghosteye, slowly loading his crossbow and daring not take his eyes off wild greenery around them. "Just trying to live like everyone else." With that he pulls the spring and until it clicks and then gingerly set his finger on the wooden trigger. He's only fired the damn thing a couple dozen times in his life so he's not the most proficient ranged fighter at the moment.

Then Ghosteye directs to Katrina all the creepy and slimy things that are hidden in this wetland. The walk over here was incredible, such a sight to behold, but he's not so inspired by this setting. "I'm the smallest so you just know that they will come for me first. I nice little snack."

He presses them forward, cautious, hoping they didn't take the wrong road.

 

Wesh has the crossbow loaded in his left hand.

[Sassafrass]

Brinestump holds many secrets.

Delving deeper into it, the sound of the waterfall does not dissipate, but is instead drowned out by the sheer noise. Birds, beasts, creatures of the bush: the Marsh is very much alive. The ambiance of the sea, the waterfall, none of them have ever heard of a place so full of life as this one. The soil is rich, writhing with life; it is disgusting, but it is what it is, and the further they get in, the better off they are. The grass grows heavy on the trail, but it is still easy to follow. Though Ghosteye seems like she would do well in the wilds, it is Praeta that takes point here, as the trail spirals in and out, bringing them down to bottom elevation.

Ghosteye does notice quite a bit, though, thinking on the Marsh. The wildlife here is like that of any Marsh, but this is a brine marsh, the water brackish. They should not drink it. They cannot drink it, not really. Maybe the Dwarf could. Perhaps more than warm, this place is very humid, very wet. Their skin perspires almost instantly, and there are times, at the bottom, where the fog rises up to their ankles, swirling and going upward, threatening to form a cloud over the entirety of Brinestump Marsh. But it does not. Instead, it threatens to consume their feet, and nothing more.

Deer, insects, small game: there are plenty of creatures here. Goblins would thrive as well. Other, more magical beasts might do well here as well. Nothing as fanciful as unicorns, but in a temperate climate, anything like a giant slug, a boggard, gigantic amphibians and insects, or something as horrid as a hydra. Beyond Goblins, Lizardfolk might be found here as well, though it seems likely that Shalelu would have mentioned that. Nefarious will-o'-wisps might be seen as well, so they need to be careful here. Heading onward, deeper in the Marsh, the sound of the waterfall goes away, but the sound of the sea only grows. The further from the edge, the less loud it becomes.

Soon, they reach a bridge, and it is there that Praeta notices something strange.

A sagging one-story shack sits in this clearing....

Tracks. Tiny Goblin feet, moving south, onto the bridge, then changing their mind and heading north. There are other tracks, larger humanoids, boots. They head north, then south. One is fresher than the other, but she can't tell which. The booted group is larger, the Goblins numbering to be about four individuals, while the booted group is about six or seven, she can't be sure. Giving this info to the rest, they determine to follow the trail deeper in, towards the sea. The Witch's Walk has to take them somewhere, doesn't it?

It grows further overgrown, and further from the edge of Brinestump, now visible as a vine-ridden cliffside, the silence is deafening. Curving onward and onward, it is not long before, in the distance, they see a dock, a boat tied to it half-filled with water from a recent storm. It is missing an oar, splintered in places, and has not been used in ages; the rope is beginning to fray, the boat not wanting to stay docked. Heading onward, the trail begins to fill up with weeds, before finally, they disappear altogether, into a clearing. As they do, they reveal the shack. Old Megus' Shack.

A sagging one-story shack sits in this clearing, its walls dingy with age and encrusted with lichen and fungus. A partially collapsed shed sits just to the northeast, while small pouches, twisted knots of feathers, and dangling wind chimes made of bones hang from branches and roof edge alike.

Only the creaking of some metal thing in the wind illuminates the silence.

 

Out of Character Jade Regent Maps Party Stats Ghosteye (and Black Moon) Praeta Katrina (and Aldwulf) Wesh Aaand now we have letters; and tokens! PCB, I used the pic for Alfwulf in that one image in your private thread, though I can select another or you can suggest one. I took that to be the kiddish version of Aldwulf, but it works. The letters will be added to the Map thread later. J is Old Megus' Shack, E is for any Bridges we cross in Brinestump, so there will be multiple E's. Anyway, feel free to roll new checks and approach the shack accordingly. I support burning it to the ground

[PIG]

Wesh's blond hair sticks to his forehead, clammy with dew, as perspiration drips down his face and neck. A mosquito buzzes around his left ear and he keeps waving it away only to have it joined by another, trying to land on the tip of his long ear. His skin crawls with the never-ending sounds of thick life over every inch of this alien marshland, crossbow gripped in a sweaty right hand as his left hand wards the armies of bugs attracted to his salty sweat.

They notice the footprints on Witch's Walk and Wesh listens to Ghosteye as she gives direction and some suggestions. He watches her as she talks but then she looks back the way they came and her shattered scars riddling the side of her face comes into full view, completely changing her appearance depending on where you stand around her. She notices him staring and he pretends to be looking past her. He has spoken little to the woman; actually, he's spoken more to the ghost than to the cool and confident Ghosteye. He wonders about her but he keeps at that for now. What strange company he is finding his self in!

Black Moon to her side, the white tiger seems rather comfortable. His oiled muscles move gracefully, his thick and luscious fur keeping him protected from the elements. The large cat listens and sees everything around them without effort, much like his dear cat Willow when she's staring out the window. He misses her now and wishes he could be at the window with her, sipping tea and reading a good book as she purrs.

He shakes his head to bring his self back to reality. The humidity must be getting to him...

"Perhaps someone is tracking the goblins like we are..." suggests Wesh to the others about the boot prints. He has little else to offer, feeling like a fish out of water.

Old Megus' Shack hulks there like some wet and tangled monster, the clanking of bones hollow and rattling from the porch. Despite the humidity a cold chill runs down the halfling's spine and the mosquitos rest on his ear and neck to feast during his distraction.

"Welp, it was my idea to come here. I'll check for traps the best I can as we approach the shack. I'll silently signal everyone to follow once the coast is clear. Once we're all there I'll, um, knock on the door I suppose?" He unlatches the spring of his crossbow and buckles it to his belt to show the witch no foul. Instead he grabs a vial of Expeditious Retreat incase events go south.

Stealth: 16He slowly tracks forward looking for something he's not really trained to look for. 'You're a city planner, for Cost of Abadar, not a sneaking halfling rogue. A lousy clerk!!!' his grandfather sneers in his mind 'Now you sniff around the ground like so many other halflings of our race, doing my proud name shame. What has become of you?' Even in the phantoms of his own mind, Wesh dares not argue with his grandfather.

Katrina is not the only one haunted by ghosts of the past... The witch's bones clank and clatter with his thoughts during his approach.

 

Right Hand: vial of Expeditious Retreat
Left Hand: None
Put Down: Nothing

Stealth: 16
Perception (Traps): From previous roll roster

[Jarl11]

Dwarfs were not made to live in swamps. A dwarf of the orderly and lawful Abadar could see the beauty and natural order of things amid the chaos of the inhabitants, but the contrast made the desire for safety behind walls that much more of a necessity for the free folk. And Praeta was here to enforce the will of Abadar through the duty they took on to aid the nearby town. This chaos needed order.

Helping Ghosteye finds tracks, Praeta was a dwarf on a mission and did as all her kin do: kept pushing on. The dwarf swatted at flies and bugs relentlessly but continued to put one tireless step in front of another.

The tracks and the overgrowth had her concerned but she couldn't really say why. So when they finally came up to the shack where the old witch was, Praeta snorted in distaste and set about examining what they were getting themselves into. The same short incantation she had has on the trail earlier helped her focus. She looked at the ground for any sign of those tracks they had seen earlier or for clues as to Megus' religious inclinations in the hanging decorations, if there were any inclinations. Strapping on her shield and ensuring her crossbow was loaded and ready, the dwarf tried to be quiet as she moved slowly up to the open space between the buildings but her steps were heavy and and her armor cried its protests. In the open field she stopped and made a short prayer to Abadar to alter her vision and cast detect magic and examine the buildingsallow her to see any magix waiting in the area.

 

OOC Survival to look for tracks here = 16 (with +1 from Guidance), Perception on the shack and outbuilding area = 28 (nat 20), Religion on the hangy things = 16 Stealth 'cuz why not = 11 Rolls. Me name HP AC TAC Flat CBD Move Fort Ref Will Abilities Status Praeta 10/10 18 11 17 14 20' +3 +1 +5 1 Judge, 1 Zeal, 2-1st -   Lvl Me spells Uses 0 Detect Magic, Brand, Guidance, Virtue - 1 Prot fr Evil, Divine Favor 2

[Blackfyre]

As much as the humidity likely bothered the bipeds the cat didn’t seem to mind too much. Curiosity far outweighing his wariness towards Aldwulf Black Moon seldom stayed directly beside Ghosteye, instead he investigated a rustle here and a gurgling of water there. One tree in particular drew his attention. He sniffed the bark, lips drawing back from his fangs in a silent snarl. A moment later he had turned his back on the offending plant and a golden shower sprayed over it as the cat stalked away, seemingly quiet satisfied with himself.

The second pair of tracks, when they found them, made Ghosteye wonder. Trackers or tracked? Did the goblins seek pray or were other hunters but themselves on their way inside the marsh? "I am not quite sure which of these are older, Wesh. Maybe, maybe not," is all she could say to his observation. It would be possible to follow the tracks, but for now that was not their goal it seemed.

Indeed, it was not much farther to the hut that turned out to look as if nobody had lived there for a while. Or maybe they just didn’t care too much if the hut would survive much longer. Her eyes roamed over the clearing and the buildings, ears twitching as they searched for sound so someone living here.

Wesh started to make his way towards the hut and she leaned down to the tiger whom she had called back to her side when the boat had come into view. "Let wise owl be your guide," she whispered, invoking the ancestor spirit. "Quiet now. Hide." She indicated the edge of the clearing, trusting the cat’s instincts to find a likely spot. Herself, she did not seek to hide, but instinctively moved quietly as she followed after Wesh and Praeta.

 

Change focus of tiger to Owl
Black Moon stealth:

Dice Stealth:

1d20+7

(5)+7

Total = 12

(12)
Perception:

Dice perception:

1d20+6

(16)+6

Total = 22

(22)

Ghosteye stealth (moving quietly, not hidden per se):

Dice Stealth:

1d20+8

(11)+8

Total = 19

(19)
Perception:

Dice perception:

1d20+8

(9)+8

Total = 17

(17)

PIG, for the record, Black Moon is not a white tiger.

[PopCultureBard]

Which Witch is Which Witch? Katrina stands at the edge of the clearing and watches the others slink around in the grass. This was not the way to approach a witch. If she knew anything from her childhood it was that witches hate when people sneak up on them. She glances to the right, to the ghost there, and they each shrug in resignation. They step forward, following a good fifteen feet behind the others. There was no stealth to it, just two completely out of place people wandering up the path to a witch's cottage. ~"These people you travel with."~ Aldwulf didn't say more. He didn't need to. Katrina wasn't sure what to make of them yet, either. They were foreign, though in truth she was the foreign one given how far they are from her home. A few brambles scratch at her leg and tug on the tough cloth there. She smiles, a soft and absent thing. Her dresses would never withstand this kind of punishment, and like them the old her would never have undertaken such a journey. Things change, and people are nothing more than things in the end. "Give them a chance. They're nice." Blue eyes Dice Perception: 1d20+5 (20)+5 Total = 25 scan the area, settling on the secondary building nearby. A storage shed, maybe? Or a creepy hut to experiment on villagers stolen from nearby towns. That would be fitting, she imagines. For Old Megus to be the horror that everyone wanted her to be. Surely she'd never live down the suggestion that they come here if that were so. "Come on." She slaps the viking on the shoulder and steps off the path, moving toward the second building.

[Sassafrass]

They approach the Shack with caution. They have every reason to.

The Shack is overgrown nearer the building, keeping them from getting near the windows. That wouldn't matter anyhow; the windows are covered in shrouds, and covered in mold from within. But the window is not what they look at. Praeta, Wesh, and the others look at the state of the building. The Shack itself is ready to collapse, but only if pushed. Not literally, but if they are not careful, if they have to go in, it will collapse. How has Megus lived in this Shack for so long? How has it not fallen over already? This is hideous. And how long ago was it that anyone saw her?

The door can be opened, barely hanging on the hinges. It could be opened with little effort, though the boards are not promising. There is a door in the back, but there is no real reason to go back there; that was seen on the trail coming up. Elsewhere, Praeta explores the shed, which looks to be in even worse shape. On the back and northern-most walls both, there are gigantic holes in the walls, and within, the barrels, crates, and countless other debris, almost all rotten themselves, are strone about; the floor, if there ever was one, is gone now, replaced only with the dirt on which all of Brinestump stands (as best a swamp can). Looking around, tracks are visible: small, animal-like tracks, though some of them are not quite fully animal. Or are they? Three of them are... the three that go directly into the shed. One more moves between it and the house. The tracks look very much unlike a rat's feet, and more like a quadruped creature with tiny human hands on each paw. What is that?

Praeta, after seeing this, looks to the bones, to make meaning for them. What stands out to her isn't anything of religious significance; likely they're personal. What stands out is that the bones are misshapen. What should clearly be a rat, a raccoon, or a cat has two heads, or a mutated shoulderblade. These do not look like natural growths, looking more as though they were melded, forced in a forge. But one cannot do to bone what can be done with iron... can they? With magic, perhaps, a viable transmutation. But who would dare?

A swamp witch might dare.

Everyone sees these, everyone sees practically everything there is to see. There has been no person, in or out, of this place in weeks. There have been vermin of a kind, including a strange creature far too small to be even a Halfling; perhaps a Fey, Praeta thinks, but that doesn't even make sense. What Fey would live here? And what Fey has four legs that end in Humanoid hands?

The door invites them in, but with the same caution that they have given the area.

 

Out of Character Jade Regent Maps Party Stats Ghosteye (and Black Moon) Praeta Katrina (and Aldwulf) Wesh Alright, my post is strictly informational. If you lot want to explore more, feel free. I also interpreted the movements you all made and chose where you went accordingly. It's not 100% accurate. So let's do this.

[Jarl11]

"Well we dinna come here fer me ta try growin' a beard, nay?" Praeta grumbled and pounded the haft of her axe on the ground before checking her shield straps for good measure. "YE HOME, ME GOOD WITCH?" A bellow. No point sneaking about when they came to talk.

She was clearly not expecting anyone to be here. The place was in shambles, animal track ran about and there were no signs of upkeep. They trekked all the way here for nothing it seemed, so no point in drawing out the moment any longer. A disaster like this needed to be burnt down and left for the animals or dismantled and rebuilt, though most of the lumber was useless in her eyes with the rot and water damage.

"Aint a soul here but critters."If no one answered, Praeta would step over and knock on the shed door hard enough to ensure it opened.

 

OOC Use the same perception since we are still outside? Or let me know and I'll roll a new one. Me name HP AC TAC Flat CBD Move Fort Ref Will Abilities Status Praeta 10/10 18 11 17 14 20' +3 +1 +5 1 Judge, 1 Zeal, 2-1st -   Lvl Me spells Uses 0 Detect Magic, Brand, Guidance, Virtue - 1 Prot fr Evil, Divine Favor 2

[Blackfyre]

"Could you, though? Or is that just a thing of wild tales and prejudiced stories?" Ghosteye asked the dwarf, only half serious. She flinched a little at the sudden shout, but why not. They did come to talk, despite being cautious in their approach.

A look over her shoulder showed a tiger who had clearly seen better days at playing hide and seek. Better now than in a more dangerous situation, though. At least it didn't seem as if there would be great trouble here. If there was anyone here at all. "If that's really the case, we can still just follow the tracks we found. Should take us to our quarry easily enough."

The young woman turned her attention back to the dilapidated hut to see if Praeta's shout would elicit any reaction.

[Sassafrass]

Surprisingly, the house does not yell back.

Brinestump Marsh is full of life, but there is little to be said of it. The squeaks, the calls that come out of the swamp are not in response to Praeta, but simply a fact of life. The humid weather begins to bear down on them: it is far too early in the year for this, almost all of them agree. Katrina, of all of them, agrees the most. Ghosteye is not surprised by this, and seeing the trail that leads from the shed to the hut, she wonders if it can be but vermin. How else could it be? Still, those hands are... unnerving. There's an oddity about this place, an otherworldliness. Looking at the door, she looks to her oldest companion, wondering if he can be of any use going inside and not cause trouble, or if they are better off leaving this place to rot.

Praeta has other plans, and heading to the shed, begins to inspect the door. Like the shack, it's of little use, and pushing it open, it squeaks: loudly, and long. Looking inside, she sees what she would expect: rot and ruin. But she begins to hear something within, moving around, within the boxes, almost inviting her to come in and see what it is. There is a hissing to accompany it, but it is not cat-like. An opossum, perhaps?

Katrina, meanwhile, lets her curiosity get the better of her, while Wesh wanders between the two groups, trying to determine which would be the wiser course of action to take: explore the hissing sound that he and the others somewhat hear, or look into the dilapidated hut?

Katrina pushes the door to the shack open, which drags across the floor; but she is able to do it without stepping inside. She looks back at Wesh, at Ghosteye, and then at Praeta; she looks cat-like, in both appearance and tone.

Within, they see mold, and much of it. Pores fly up from the floor, the mold a yellow-brown-white color that begins to react instantly to the sunlight, retracting. This main room greets them with bones that hang from the ceiling, more mutated than the ones visible outside, and with the door open, a wind blows them, causing them to turn slowly. A room deeper in looks like a kitchen, complete with a table with pots and pans on it, but there is no sign of life. Not yet. Nothing reacts to the door being open. The floor clearly sags within, though a careful step might could move within.

Katrina smiles to the others, inviting them to wonder what comes next. Or should they leave?

 

Out of Character Jade Regent Maps Party Stats Ghosteye (and Black Moon) Praeta Katrina (and Aldwulf) Wesh Well, looks like we're kind of down two. I don't know what's up with PIG, but here we are. PCB is having issues, and has gone MIA from those issues. I can provide checks as you two need, and Katrina will not go in without someone else going first, nor will Wesh.

[PopCultureBard]

The Threshold of DESTINY! "Well, no fiery death in response to the trespass. I suppose one could call that a good sign." Nudging the door again with her foot, she exhales a huff of air through her nostrils. Spores and fungi and molds make the air musty, bordering on foul. This was not what she expected. A witch should keep her home well-appointed as an indicator of her status. This was more in line with the hut of the progenitor Baba Yaga, or so the rumors held. Either this Megus was very powerful or a total fraud. In either case, she could pose significant danger. Plucking a coin from her near-empty money pouch, she rubs the metal disk between her thumb and forefinger until it begins to glow. A nice, even light that doesn't flicker or fade like a torch might. Easing the coin onto the back of her thumb, a simple flick sends it flipping into the depths of the shack's murky dimness. She takes a moment to Dice Perception: 1d20+5 (20)+5 Total = 25 study the room from the doorway before glancing back at the others. A motion to Aldwulf leads the ulfen forward, his steps oddly light for his bulk as he presses through the doorway and into the room beyond. ~"Here I go, from guarding witches to hunting them."~ The viking brandishes his axe and shield, each made from the same gray-green substance as the rest of him, and stalks towards the center of the room where he can get a Dice Perception: 1d20+4 (6)+4 Total = 10 good view of the place.

[Jarl11]

Hissing? She cocked her head and frowned. Had this witch been experimenting on critters?

Making a quick motion with her hand and closing her eyes, Praeta opened them with new sight before readying her axe again. She scanned the shed, then stepped in and kicked some rotted barrels out of the way so she could get a better view and flush out this odd rodent. With her shield and armor, she was a little dwarf bulldozer.

"Here, kitty kitty." This place was a disaster.

 

OOC Cast detect magic, then step in and kick sh*t over. Perception: Dice Roll: 1d20+8 (2)+8 Total = 10 (10) Me name HP AC TAC Flat CBD Move Fort Ref Will Abilities Status Praeta 10/10 20 11 19 14 20' +3 +1 +5 1 Judge, 1 Zeal, 2-1st -   Lvl Me spells Uses 0 Detect Magic, Brand, Guidance, Virtue - 1 Prot fr Evil, Divine Favor 2

[Blackfyre]

At the edge of the clearing Black Moon stalked through the foliage, tail tip going back and forth. These human dens where odd and not made to endear themselves to the cat. Most human dwellings he had seen so smelled cleaner and far more of, well, human. If this place had a scent to it, it would be old. And abandoned.

Even without supernatural aid to her own sense of smell the huntress would have agreed, had the tiger been able to give voice to his impressions. As it was, she regarded the interior of the hut warily. Somehow it seemed odd that they would not find any trace of the inhabitant. Maybe Megus was hiding from them? She knew that some were able to check for magic in their surroundings, but that was something that eluded her. Ghosteye could shed some light on things however.

She picked up a stray pebble. "Sister sun, gift us part of your power to throw light into the dark," she requested and obediently the stone began to glow brightly. A moment later it followed the coin into the room, landing on a table if her aim was true.

 

Cast Light on a small stone and throw it into the room.

Dice Perception:

1d20+6

(10)+6

Total = 16

[PIG]

One by one the others go to the shack to investigate the strange hissing sound. Any common adventurer would already know: “Don’t ever separate from the others. Keep together.” So Wesh promptly decides to explore the broken house alone to save them some time, of course. Why waste time by keeping together, right? The halfing might be intelligent but he’s not exactly the wisest in the group.

Wesh peers around. Halflings have normal eyesight but his family are known for their keen senses. His sharp eyes pick up what little light he can muster to look around. He sniffs the air for anything odd.

If the air does not smell of any explosive chemical or accelerants, and if the ceiling is high enough, he’ll light his torch with the flint-and-steel only if it is too dark to see with the naked eye. He’ll have to use both hands but as soon as the torch is lit he’ll have the vial of Expeditious Retreat back in hand.

 

Right Hand: Vial of Expeditious Retreat
Left Hand: None (or Lit Torch if needed)
Put Down: Nothing
Perception Check: 13

[Sassafrass]

The house almost bends the moment Alfwulf steps onward.

The creak can be heard echoing off of the trees. Katrina can't hear it quite so well, but the others feel the house almost collapse when the phantom steps in. But because she does not hear it, that does not mean she does not see it. Looking about the phantom bound to her, the floor sags at his step. The mold moves about his every motion, like dust in the wind, swirling at the maelstrom of his motion. The coin in her hand begins to glow, and the motes of dust and mold exiting the house that surround her might be beautiful if not for the sight beyond them. The mold on the floor looks more like a slime, or a moss: it depends on the corner, and in the center they mend together into a strangeness. Where the light falls, there is less; but where the light, the sunlight anyway, fails, there is nothing but mountains of it, up the walls, the black ceiling, creaking in, wrapping around the room. There are two doors, one to the left and one to the right. A strange greenness comes from the door to the left, devouring the door itself. Getting in might be difficult, but something tells her that she might find something... telling in here.

She has a better sight of the skulls that hang from the ceiling; a musk descends down onto her from them. The skulls of cats, of dogs, amphibians and fish, all of them are mutated in strange ways. A cat with three eye sockets, a dog with two jaws. Two-headed frogs, fish with a jaw that does not match the rest of it. All of it is there, just floating and hanging and twisting with the new wind in the room. They lead onward: directly in front of Katrina, there is another room, barely illuminated by her own coin, with a table covered in mold and pots, and who knows what beyond. There is another side of the house entirely beyond, and windows within, covered in mold and blacked out accordingly. Ghosteye looks around as well, tossing a pebble into the room beyond, taking a liberty here, but just barelyto the table. That room, illuminated, yields little, but otherwise, Ghosteye sees much the same as Katrina does: the mold, the skulls, the table beyond, the table within with nothing on it but mold and spores. The house has plenty to offer as far as exploration, but can she explore it at all? That floor sags considerably, even without her on it.

And is that the pitter-patter of feet in the ceiling, or the walls?

Meanwhile, Praeta and Wesh team up to explore the shed and the hissing. They step in, Praeta adjusting to the dark, and Wesh lighting a torch when his fail to. The shed is wasted, the crates and barrels within broken and long since raided. But that does not mean the place is not occupied, quite the contrary. There is clear movement, between the buckets and barrels and crates. The light fro the walls, and the light from the torch, offer some illumination: and then, from the darkness, comes the first face. The hideous rat face, too large to be anything but terrifying. A rat, the largest they have ever seen. Axe and torch at the ready, the rats are just as ready. It's time to fight.

Near the shed, a tiger hears the hissing, and wonders if its instincts aren't right to go digging about.

 

Out of Character Jade Regent Maps Party Stats Ghosteye (and Black Moon) Praeta Katrina (and Aldwulf) Wesh Enemies: Dire Rat 1-5/5, 14 T, 11 FF14 AC Dire Rat 2-5/5, 14 T, 11 FF14 AC Dire Rat 3-5/5, 14 T, 11 FF14 AC Woooo! Combat! Alright, Wesh and Praeta, you've started the first combat. Others can join; I highly suggest the strategically-placed tiger do so. The hissing does not escape the notice of anyone else (except the dead guy), but I expect the shack will be worth exploring. For combat: no Initiative, and you have Initiative. Carry on! Stats above me. For house funtimes: DC 12 Acrobatics for everyone who enters, including Aldwulf. Failure means you break the floor but you can keep moving. You may take 10.