[Game Thread] Chapter One - Boolyabay

[Drachenspirit]

Lexa laughed along with Fyrian and his replies. She looked around for the best place to make camp and given this wasn't her first ground meat stuffed in an animals intestine lining roast, she was sure she could find a suitable place.

"Heh. I sometimes prefer that as well, but my opinions aren't thoughts flung from my own imagination, they are facts paid for with time and blood, borne out of years of experience. Just trust me on the torch thing."

[Admin Bhelogan]

 

Nailfin Hearstring
HP: 71/71, AC: 1 Speed: 12 THAC0: 13
Weapons: Scimitar+5 1d8, Shortsword 1d6
Spell Slots 1st 1/1, PSPs: 135/135, Defense Mode: Tower of Iron Will
STR: 15 DEX: 15 CON: 18 INT: 12 WIS: 17 CHR: 10

Nailfin chuckles a bit at the torch debate. In his mind, it really does not matter either way. In his past life he would have sided with Lexa, and understood where she was coming from. Now however, such things seemed trivial. "Torch light or no torch light. If there is danger here, I think we will find it either way. I am content to take either path, but lets make a decision and go with it."

[Yves]

"Let's camp for the night. Tomorrow if you want, I can provide some ability to see in the dark if we want to continue on for a few hours in the night. Although, if you do want the spell every day, I ask that you reimburse me 25 gold per day. I got a big supply, but these babies do not come cheap." Fyrian takes an agate out from a sizeable satchel and holds it up to show his fellow party members. "But let me tell you...once you get nightvision, you'll never want to go back to normal vision. Especially the kind of nightvision you get from this spell," Fyrian says with a knowing smile.

[Drachenspirit]

Lexa nods and says "We are close enough to the river for water. We should be good for the night, but if we need some, I can go get it. We can cook right before dawn, so out smoke is hidden with the rising fog."

She has already found a suitable spot to make camp, so she locates a decent place to put her bedroll and drops it and her pack.

[Jonwane]

Day 1 - About 5PM until Midnight

With the decision made to settle in for the night the party spreads out in a small cluster on the level area. The sun sinks into the east and the sounds of the forest fall into silence as shadow descend. It is very quiet for several hours as you sit, or lie about upon your bedrolls. The only thing that can be heard is the steady rush of the river, but even it is not too loud as to be impairing.

You doze, or meditate, for some time as the night progresses. It seems like a very long time since it gets dark so early at this latitude. You guess that it must be somewhere close to midnight when the drums start up. The staccato echoes come from the hills to the west, or perhaps they originate in the mountains themselves. It is hard to tell. At first it sounds like there is only one, but before long the forest is resounding with the steady rhythm of at least four and possibly as many as eight. They do sound like they are quite a distance away, however, and although unsettling after the warning by Tim, they do not seem to pose an imminent threat.

 

I would like each of you to roll a d20 with your next post please. Also, I'm very sorry for my absence. My girlfriends father fell ill very suddenly and passed away a few days ago. It's been pretty rough. I hope you're still all with me.

[Admin Bhelogan]

 

Nailfin Hearstring
HP: 71/71, AC: 1 Speed: 12 THAC0: 13
Weapons: Scimitar+5 1d8, Shortsword 1d6
Spell Slots 1st 1/1, PSPs: 135/135, Defense Mode: Tower of Iron Will
STR: 15 DEX: 15 CON: 18 INT: 12 WIS: 17 CHR: 10

Nailfin takes the downtime to rest and meditate. He sleeps lightly, as was his training as a ranger to do so. The sounding of the drums awakens him, and he listens intently. He remains silent though, not wanting to disturb those who are still resting if there is no need to do so. Quietly he muses to himself, "Drums beating at midnight, could be some savage ritual. Perhaps a sacrifice to a demonic god, or a peace offering to the spirit of the mountain? Who knows what these cannibalistic natives could believe." The Drums do not sound as if they are getting any closer however, so no need for alarm yet.

 

14

[theclaytster]

 

Stats Current HP: 40 Max HP: 40 AC: 3 THACH0: 14 Weapon: Quaterstaff Damage: 1d6

Brother Francis always liked dusk, just as he did the dawn. These were the two times of the day when the world went silent and alive at the same time. At dusk, the creatures of the day headed for the safety of their burrows while creatures of the night awoke to take their place. He used these times to discuss the days events with his deity and to ready himself for the next days trespasses. And based on the days events, he needed to revise his wards and spells.

After a couple hours, the wandering Cleric took leave by the fire, curled up, and listened to the night sounds as he dosed off. He had a small piece of clothing over his face to protect it from the nights biting insects, as were some light cloth gloves over his hands. He was not a fan of waking up having been eaten alive.

The slow methodical beating of the drums woke Brother Francis from his sleep. He lay there thinking he was across the pond, in some small town where a festival was starting up. It took him some time, but he finally opened his eyes and concentrated on the drumming. Drumming at night had always been a bad sign, at least for him. Nobody should be awake. And those that are will be up to no good. He was not going to get much sleep tonight, he felt.

 

7

[Yves]

Fyrian spends most of his time by himself to meditate and practice some combat maneuvers. When offered food and drink he politely declines saying he's good for another week or so without food. Before going to sleep, Fyrian casts a spell to replace the one that ran out during the day (cat's Grace). During the night Fyrian awakens to the sound of the drums but lies still and silently listens.

[Drachenspirit]

Lexa takes the first watch, and then asks to be awakened at sun up. Her wolf companion curls up and sleeps beside her.

Dice Roll:

1d20

7

Roll

[Jonwane]

Day 2, from Sunrise to 1PM

Other than the drums, the night passes uneventfully. The insects aren't as bad as you thought and although the temperature does drop the giant trees seem to keep the worst of the cold away. The drums stop a couple of hours before dawn and you watch as the weak light begins to filter through the giant treetops. The dawning of a new day on an unexplored, at least by you, continent is a very strange feeling. Packing up your belongings you continue westward into the depths of the mountains.

As you travel along the river continues to narrow and smaller tributaries become more frequent. They branch off in all directions, leading up the slopes of mountains, or spilling out of small passes to add their collective force to the main river. You have to cross several of them on your way, but many of them are narrow enough that you can jump them in a single bound and in the wider areas, there are plenty of boulders jutting out from the water that can be used as leaping stones.

Ten o'clock finds you doglegging back and forth up a particularly steep grade. The treeline is beginning to thin out

significantly and those that do grow are nowhere close to the height of the giants that now lie below you. An hour later and you are totally free of the forest and on a steep scree slope that overlooks the entire area. It is quite a view! The forest stretches off for hundreds of treks to the north and the south, it's dark green blanket shrouding an immense swath of land. To the north, at a distance of what you would guess to be about a hundred treks, the mountain range curves to the east and spills out into the distant sea. The forest butts up close against it, just as it does here, and continues to the south uninterrupted for as far as you can see. The ocean sparkles in the morning light as the sun rises behind you, it's rays also lighting the tops of some of the most distant trees a fiery gold. You can see where the river meets the sea, but you are too far away to make out any details on the beach where the captain and crew must be busy setting up a base camp.

After pausing to take in the view and eat lunch, you continue on up the slope reaching the peak of one particular mountain at about one o'clock. Beyond lies a huge mountainous landscape, the river having disappeared underground a short while back, now reemerges and flows to the west, winding its way through the alpine landscape. The trees return here as well, but in the distance there are mountains even taller than the one that you just traversed. The rise up out of the ground like rocky fingers pointing accusingly towards the heavens. They look entirely inhospitable, their slopes totally barren and covered in snow.

The most alarming part about the valley. however, is that while you stand gazing down upon it, you see several figures emerge from behind a bend in the river some distance to the west of you. They are riding what appear to be horses, but they are still much to far away to make out any details. They ride slowly east, towards you, but you are sure that they cannot see you from your position. There are seven of them and they ride in a group while simultaneously maintaining distance between each other. You recognize it as a practiced tactic for any group of men who are worried about being taken by surprise. Ride close together so that you can work effectively as a team, but maintain separation so that you don't offer a single target.

To continue on your path to the east, and in the direction from which you guess the drums originated, you will have to pass through the same valley that they now ride. Your other alternatives are to curve to the northwest or southwest to remain within the treeline of the rocky slopes, possibly avoiding detection that way. What will you do???

[Admin Bhelogan]

 

Nailfin Hearstring
HP: 71/71, AC: 1 Speed: 12 THAC0: 13
Weapons: Scimitar+5 1d8, Shortsword 1d6
Spell Slots 1st 1/1, PSPs: 135/135, Defense Mode: Tower of Iron Will
STR: 15 DEX: 15 CON: 18 INT: 12 WIS: 17 CHR: 10

The view from the peak is breathtaking, and it's beauty is certainly not lost on Nailfin. "Mountains like these, on their peaks. That is where the inspiration for unlocking the mind was born." He speaks somewhat softly, showing reverence. Seeing the riders behavior sends a tingle of warning up his spine. He turns to the others. "They are riding this way. Do you think they know we are here? If they reach our base-camp before we get a chance to speak to them, that could be disastrous. I think we may want to set a course to intercept them. If they are hostile, I feel more confident in our ability to contain them, than in our crew."

[theclaytster]

 

Stats Current HP: 40 Max HP: 40 AC: 3 THACH0: 14 Weapon: Quaterstaff Damage: 1d6

"No better way of greeting somebody than crossing their path." Brother Francis answers Nailfin without thinking as he also admires all that is around. "Around every corner, something new and wonderful. I imagine this is how the early explorers of ages past thought when they first came upon the lands we left."

[Yves]

 

Current/Max Health: 95/95
AC: 3
THAC0: 12
Two-Handed Sword Frostbrand +3 Grand Mastery Damage: 1d12+9/3d8+9
THAC0 w/ Frostbrand: 5, 2 vs. fire creatures
Attacks/Round: 5/2

Saving Throws
Paralyze: 8
Death Magic/Poison: 3
Rod, Staff or Wand: 4
Petrify/Polymorph: 9
Breath Weapon: 7
Spell: 5

Running Spells/Effects: Ring of Fire Resistance (Frostbrand), Protection from Hunger and Thirst, Cat's Grace, Strength, Stoneskin, Invisible Mail

Fyrian nods in agreement. "I concur. Who is the best diplomat here? Brother Francis? Everyone trusts a priest," he says, grinning.

[theclaytster]

 

Stats Current HP: 40 Max HP: 40 AC: 3 THACH0: 14 Weapon: Quaterstaff Damage: 1d6

"I've never been much of a diplomat. If we had Sister Margo here, now she could convince a jackrabbit it could fly. But, I will do what I can. Just understand that if they shoot, I run." He chuckes and smiles widely. "I'm not a big fan of pain which is ironic since I'm trained in the healing arts. Anyway, if you want, it shall be done.

[Jonwane]

Day 2 - 1PM-3PM

Hiking roughly perpendicular to the approaching group allows you to stay hidden amongst the treeline for the majority of your approach. Judging by the reactions of the riders, you remain safely concealed within the shadows of the treeline. It does take some time however, as the underbrush and fallen debris is much thicker at this altitude making your movement quite a bit slower.

It takes you about two hours to travel roughly three treks down to a point where the trees begin to thin out and become the tall grass of the meadow that covered the valley floor. The sun is beginning to arc down behind you and although the day is still bright with very little cloud cover, you know from experience that you only have about two hours of daylight left.

The approaching patrol is only about a half a trek away from you once you reach a point where concealment becomes a problem. They still seem oblivious to your approach given that they have not faltered from their steady course since you began your decent from the mountaintop. You remain within the trees, watching them as they slowly approach. They are dark skinned humanoids and they rode lean, grey colored horses that appeared to have been bred for speed. The riders wore what appear to be leather strips that wind around their arms and torso, creating an effective armor. Their breeches are also leather, but fashioned in much the same way that breeches in your homeland were fashioned. Long, dark hair was pulled back and restrained by either a leather headband, or tied into a ponytail. All of the riders were men, and they were all lean, wiry, muscle. They all carried bows with quivers strung across their backs and three of them carried a quiver of what looked like small lances that were probably designed for throwing like a spear.

They do not speak as they ride, but instead seem totally focused on their chosen route through the meadow. They are still about two hundred yards off. What do you do?