VampiricLongbow
  
 
As you tread the Sige Road, the weight of the news from Levasseur and the Geryard Mountains hangs heavy on our journey. The shadows of history seem to linger, and the fear of conflict between the dwarven holdfasts looms like a storm on the horizon. Isolda, a middle-aged blonde-haired merchant who hired you to protect her three overstuffed carts, walks with purpose, her eyes flickering with concern.

A traveler who joined your group at the hamlet of Elsner - a man named Wulf - turns to Isolda and asks,   "What say you, Isolda? Do you think the Gebeardedee will truly go to war with each other? And what of the Ealdorman's priest? Can a voice of reason calm the brewing storm in the mountains?"   The man strokes his long, scraggily salt-and-pepper-colored beard as he asks the question.

Isolda sighs,   "I am not sure, Wulf. I am not sure. You know how the dwarves of the Geryard Mountains are - stiff &amp; stalwart; quick to take offense and rare to forgive. They all blame one another for the thrice sacking of the dwarven hamlet of Levasseur. Each believes the other failed to stop the Carmine Horde. That the others are to blame for the loss of life, property and honor. Their people clamor for battle, as a means to repent for what happened. They believe battling one another will appease the Ares &amp; their Lofyskos god, Morradin. "  
  "What of the Horde? I have been in the far south of the Old Cyningdom for much time, last I heard the Carmine Horde was running amok up here in the northern shires?"  
  "Indeed they were,"   responds Isolda in a somber tone.   "They sacked Levasseur and Standudda. They even put Estache and Waerhild to siege. It was only thanks to the heroism of the fallen Widthagn of Standudda that the north is still free. Without his noble sacrifice at the Battle of Ydraktonos the Carmine Horde surly would have driven straight to the Ealdorman's capital of Whitmundminster. If that city had fallen, then so too would Dunwealdshire, and likely much of the north."  

Making the sign of the spear, Wulf whispers,   "In the name of Nike herself, I do so praise the fallen Widthagn."  

The caravan continues traversing northward, along the Sige Road, towards the village of Standudda, or at least what remains of it. The group had left Torr Bodig this morning, the Thagn there having purchased a keg of ale and a finely made adamantine hand axe from Isolda. He was keen on the weapon as a means to help defend his lands from the kobolds which had moved into the region in the wake of the Carmine Wars. His men warned Isolda and the party of the dangers kobolds pose. They had been seen all along the road between Torr Bodig and the Inn Familiar, which rests at the halfway point between Torrs Bodig and Geth.

The road ahead stretches before the group, the kegs of stout in Isolda's carts jostle with each step, a reminder of the dwarven craftsmanship that might soon be turned to darker purposes.

As you walk, the party keeps a watchful eye on the surroundings, mindful of the Thagn's warning about kobolds. The road may be clear for now, but the world is unpredictable. As night descends, Isolda pulls her cart off to the side of the road.   "I was hoping to make it to the Inn Familiar before nightfall..."   She curses under her breath, then calls out, "  We won't make it much farther than this today. Let's break and make camp."  
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
You are adventurers, perhaps you have worked with one another before, perhaps not. You were all hired in the dwarven hamlet of Bieriste, located in the Dwarven Downs, which sit at the foot of the Geryard Mountains. Isolda has three carts, filled with kegs of alcohol that she intends to sell at the market in Standudda. You were warned by the Thagn of Torr Bodig that kobolds have been spotted in the lands north of the tower but none had attacked or menaced any merchants or travelers... Yet.

Isolda is short on cash and so will pay each of you with an antique dwarven dagger she bought from a traveling gnomish merchant she met in the dwarven holdfast of Reverdin. She says, to the right buyer, the dagger is worth fifty or sixty gold. To the wrong buyer, probably closer to thirty.

You are breaking to make camp right now. It is late evening, the sun is setting behind the Grifoun Hills.

Please take this opportunity to introduce your character. As the camp is being prepared, are you helping to set it up? Are you keeping watch? Perhaps you are cooking or attending to the horses who are pulling the carts?
 

 
 Spoiler: Thesaurus 

-  Carmien Horde : A coalition of several horse &amp; worg riding goblinoid tribes, mostly from the northern steppe lands. They settled in the lands to the east of Dunwealdshire fifty years ago. They slowly began raiding the outskirts of the shire ten years ago, which soon ramped up into a full scale invasion five years ago. They managed to sack the dwarven hamlet of Levasseaur three times  as well as the human hamlet of Standudda. The combined forces of the Shire were eventually able surprise attack the horde's leadership as they were looting the Synkentrion of Ydkraktonos. With their leadership in ruin, the goblinoid horde fled back east. Although not broken, they likely will not rally for several years.
-  Cyningdom : A kingdom, almost always referring to the Cyning of Braden, which ruled over the island of Braden
-  Gebeardede : The Dwarven equivalent of a Thagn (Baron). The Dwarves were conquered by the Cynig (King) long ago but the dwarves were allowed to keep their mountain and hill holdfasts, so long as they bent the knee both to the Cynig &amp; their local Ealdorman (Earl/Count). In Dunwealdshire, there are three major Gebeardedee who reside in the holdfasts of  Robuste, Reverdin &amp; Estache.
-  Gebeardedee : Plural form of Gebeardede.
-  Geryard Mountains : The Mountains that rest at the southern end of the Shire of Dunweald where three dwarven holdfasts rest, along with a smattering of dwarven hamlets.
-  Griffoun Hills : A long string of pine-covered hills stretching from the Pagoskakos Mountains, all the way up to Standudda. It is said only griffons and elves live in the hills.
-  Levasseur : A dwarven hamlet located in a mountain valley, near Reverdin but has traditionally been governed by representatives of all three Gebeardedee. It was sacked three times by goblinoids during the recent Carmine Wars.
-  Lofyskos  : A term used by the faithful to describe all non-Olympian pantheons.
-  Standudda : The capital of the Widthagnage of Standudda, it was once a prosperous town but was brutally sacked by the Carmine Horde. Nearly half of its population either fled or was killed. It is only now, five years alter, that the population has even begun to rebound but it is still shadow of its former self.
-  Synkentrion of Ydkraktonos : A monastery dedicated to Hercules, locaterd to the east of the Shire of Dunweald, near the Thagnage of Anlaf.
-  Thagn : A baron, usually centered in a settlement or a tower. A Thagn lords over a Thagnage.
-  Torr Bodig : A tower located north of the hamlet of Elsner. It is lorded over by a dragonborn Thagn named Chalkos.
-  Widthagn : A Widthagn is a Thagn who has other Thagns as vassals. A Widthagn lords over a Widthagnage.
 
JNAProductions
 OOC Thread 

 
Laughter, despite her slight frame, is able to help set camp. She ties knots and tends to the animals mostly, letting those with more muscle handle the stronger work. She's only a shade over five feet tall, and slim to boot. She's dressed in clothes that are a little less practical than perhaps they should be, but she's managing okay.

She's a little nervous at all the new people-it's been ages since she's met anyone new outside of formal settings, and she's worried about how she's coming off.   Am I being too stiff? Too formal? Should I try to lift that? I don't think I can, but should I offer?  

As she ties a knot, she bumps into one of the others.  "Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry!"  she stammers out.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Anyone who wants can be bumped into.
 
Infernally Clay
      
  Leif Fochlucan 
 Elven Druid 1
HP: 10/10, AC: 15
Conditions: None
Spell Slots: 1st: 2/2  
 
  

Leif spends the time as others are setting up camp to acquire food enough for the group. She still isn't quite used to travelling, let alone doing so with such an unusual variety of people. Elves of her kind typically  avoid  outsiders and here Leif is surrounded by them.

 How exciting!  she thinks to herself, a little grin crossing her lips, "I can take the first watch. The rest of you need the rest more than I. I can meditate afterwards, but I'll still be somewhat awake so if trouble occurs I can assist."
Morphling
Ossiline gives Laughter a distracted but reassuring smile as she is bumped into, hardly budging and easily keeping hold of her bundle of firewood. In a group composed mostly of humans and half-elves (plus the odd full-blooded elf), she is painfully aware that she stands out as the only dwarf, though she isn't really sure what the others see when they look at her.

  "Worry not my lass. The error was mine."   She resumes building a fire, her smile quickly disappearing as she tries to piece together the political situation she's found herself on the outskirts of. Would these unfamiliar dwarves expect her to take a side in their conflict? How could she, not truly knowing anything about her own people? As she considers, she fumbles with the flint a bit before finally striking a spark. When the fire is going, she begins cooking everyone a meal.
Gyrfalcon
A young man appears out of the forest, messy brown hair tied back in a rough ponytail and a thick beard covering his face. His clothes are rough and sturdy but look well cared for, and his cloak is a massive bear pelt.

Of more interest to many are a brace of rabbits, a duck and a bag of wild vegtables that swings from his thick-fingered hands.  ”Ho! The forest provides and we eat well tonight!”  he calls out to his fellow trail guards in good cheer.
JNAProductions
 
 Originally Posted by Morphling 
   "Worry not my lass. The error was mine."   
 

 "No, you're fine!"  Laughter says back.  "Here, I can help light the fire." 

When the firewood is set in its enclosure, she casts a brief spell. A bit of the wood lights immediately, with the fire soon spreading to encompass the entire pile.  "So, um, do you know any of the dwarves we'll be encountering? I think I've met a representative from one of the families, but I didn't really get to know him well. He was kind of dour-not one to talk much." 
Morphling
Ossiline puts down her flint and nods in approval as Laughter lights the fire with her cantrip.   "Ah yes, a handy spell indeed."   She is silent for a moment when Laughter asks her question.   "Well,"   she begins slowly.   "I'm truthfully not from around these parts, so I can't say I would know any of the families here."   She considers silently whether or not to go on, but eventually decides to reveal more.   "I'm a sailor by trade, was born at sea. I've really only experienced dwarven culture from the perspective of an outsider. Part of the reason I've decided to adventure in these parts has just been to connect with my roots, perhaps even learn something of my birth parents."   She falls silent then, looking a bit troubled.

When the young man appears with his catch, she immediately brightens up, touching her holy symbol.   "Artemis has blessed us this evening! A good omen indeed! I'll make us a duck and coney soup with that."  
NontheistCleric
"Yes," says Ammia, "now it is time to thank the gods."

While the others have been setting up camp, she has been unpacking her bag, filling her censer with incense and lighting it with a stick from the fire. As wisps of aromatic smoke begin to fill the air, she stands and holds her hands outstretched, first to the sky.

"Zeus, King of the Gods, and Apollo, Light of the Sun; today you have given us a day clear and warm. Great are your mercies.

"Fair Hecate, tonight we trust to you our fate beneath the Moon."

She turns to face the forest.

"Pan and Artemis, your wilds have stocked our larder. May our stomachs shrivel if we displease you."

Briefly, she glances at the kegs.

"Lord Dionysus, it is an honor to guard your treasures..."

Then she looks down the long road to Standudda.

"...and Hermes, Messenger of the Gods–it is you who have protected us on this journey."

She pauses a moment before the last, whispered prayer.

"Hestia, let all be well with my home."
Gyrfalcon
Thomas frowns a little at the priest's production of her faith, though the caravanners appears to welcome it, and the hillsman just shakes his head and traces the symbol of an eye over his heart.  "Odin, All-Father, let your watchful eye keep us safe."  he offers up as a simple prayer, trusting more to the land's true gods.

Necessary religious observances made, he finds a spot next to the campfire and starts preparing his catch together with Ossiline, nodding his thanks to Laughter as she quickly lights the fire.  "Now, that is a handy trick. Never have to search for flint and a striker if you can wiggle your fingers for a spark!"  he says with a grin.
VampiricLongbow
The merchant smiles as Laughter brings the firewood and as Ossiline begins the fire. She is overawed by the game and vegetables that Thomas was able to procure.

As the sun slowly dips further and further behind the hills, Isolda breathes in deep as she smells the alluring aroma of the meal she has helped prepare. She calls out,   Dinner is ready!"   

The party all meander over and take a fair share of the meal - rabbit-vegetable-stew with a side of grilled rabbit chunks. To top it off, Isolda pulls out several honey cookies that she purchased in town. She breaks them up into even pieces and gives one to each party member. The merchant then looks around confused.

  "Has anyone seen Wulf...?"  

Isolda checks each of the carts and the tents that have been set up.   "Where is Wulf?"   she asks bluntly.

Last anyone can recall, he was headed into a nearby coppice of foxgloves trees to,  "Take care of some business."
 
  "I thought taking care of business meant... Where did he go?"   

She turns to Leif and Thomas, the two party members she believes are the most "forestry oriented" and inquires,   "Perhaps you can find him...?   

She turns to the others,   "I do not like the smell of this..."  
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Wulf, your new companion is missing. He was last seen entering a lightly wooded coppice but no one paid him much mind once he entered. Beyond the coppice is the first proper, with its dense woods, it would be easy to get lost - or worse 😦
 
 Spoiler: The Coppice looks like this 
 
 

 
Gyrfalcon
Thomas nods and sets aside his plate, collecting a vicious two-handed bearded axe from the ground, slinging it over his shoulder. He unfastens a loop and draws a handaxe from his belt while collecting a sturdy branch and preparing it as a torch. He nods to Leif.  ”I don’t have your dark sight, so I’ll need the light. But If Wulf is lost, the torch can guide him back. And if there are other things about, you might see them first.” 

Once his companion is ready, Thomas sets out with his torch raised, a beacon of light in the gathering dark.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
If needed:

  Perception  - (1d20+4)[ 11 ] 
  Survival  - (1d20+4)[ 20 ] 
 
Infernally Clay
      
  Leif Fochlucan 
 Elven Druid 1
HP: 10/10, AC: 15
Conditions: None
Spell Slots: 1st: 2/2  
 
  

"Worry naught," Leif says, "We will find the wayward lamb."

She then heads out with Thomas.

 
 Spoiler 
Perception:  (1d20+5)[ 10 ] 
Survival:  (1d20+5)[ 18 ] 
 
VampiricLongbow
As the sun dips below the hills, Leif and Thomas hastily venture into the Coppice. After about ten minutes, they stumble upon a concealed corpse nestled in the overgrown bushes near the forest's edge. Thankfully, the lifeless form doesn't belong to their ally Wulf but to a gnome-sized reptile-man, likely a kobold according to the descriptions they've heard. In the twilight, the details are challenging to discern, but Thomas notices three slash marks on the kobold's face, painted with red dye.

Upon closer inspection, Leif and Thomas discover that the kobold met its end through a severe head injury, cleaving off half of its head. While patting down the body, they find two pouches, each containing stone bullets. Interestingly, each bullet bears three diagonal slash marks etched into them—reminiscent of the design on the kobold's face. The two adventurers also find a sling and a jagged dagger.
JNAProductions
 "It'll be okay,"  Laughter says with naïve optimism.
VampiricLongbow
 
 Spoiler: Leif and Thomas 
After investigating the corpse, each of your locate a trail of depressed grass, which leads into the forest. Based on your keen eye, it looks like human and kobold tracks going in the same direction.
 

 
 Spoiler: Everyone else 
Isolda paces nervously,   "I hope everything is ok..."   

Off in the distance, on the other side of the road, out in the tall wild grass, Laughter notices something dog-sized out of the corner of their eye. It was only there for a moment, before ducking back down in the tall grass.
 
Gyrfalcon
Thomas uses his handaxe to cut branches to mark the beginning of the trail. He grabs one of the marked sling stones and nods sharply to Leif.  "We'd best warn the others. It looks like they took Wulf alive, but there might be a whole tribe out there." 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
I suggest Thomas and Leif head straight back to warn the rest of the party/caravan. We can head out as a group after.
 
Infernally Clay
      
  Leif Fochlucan 
 Elven Druid 1
HP: 10/10, AC: 15
Conditions: None
Spell Slots: 1st: 2/2  
 
  

Leif nods in agreement, keeping her stance low and her movement quiet as they return to the group. "We don't know what awaits us. Caution is wise."
NontheistCleric
"No luck?" Ammia asks, seeing Leif and Thomas return without Wulf.
JNAProductions
Laughter startles a little upon seeing the movement.  "Did anyone else see that?"  she asks, gesturing to where the canine figure was.
NontheistCleric
Ammia turns to where Laughter is pointing, but sees nothing.

"No... what did it look like?"
JNAProductions
 "It was a dog? Or maybe a wolf? I saw more movement than anything,"  she replies.
VampiricLongbow
Alarmed by Laughter's observation, the merchant heads over to one of her carts and pulls out a crate. She sets it on the ground and pulls the lid off, revealing a wooden bear trap whose jaws have been lined with finely cut obsidian  shards.

  "I picked this up a few months ago after a pack of wolves attacked my caravan,"   says Isolda with a grin on her face.   "It was made by a mountain hermit who sold it to me for a barrel of diluted wine. Good deal, I think. Hopefully this will help protect us from Laughter's wolf."   
Gyrfalcon
Thomas shakes his head.  ”Wolves won’t trouble a large, noisy caravan. They know we’re not-prey - and worse for them, wolf-hunters. It might have been a kobold scout. We didn’t find Wulf, but we found a dead kobold, marked with three scars across its face. It had a sling and dagger, and a pouch of stones marked the same.” 

The human passes over a marked slingstone for the others to look at and continues.

 ”We marked a trail of a human and more kobolds leading away and turned back. He isn’t dead - yet.” 
Morphling
Ossiline frowns gravely as Leif and Thomas return with their tale.   "So, they've captured him. But for what reason I wonder?"   She narrows her eyes in thought and looks to the ground.   "Do they wish to ransom him back to us? Or do they have some nefarious purpose?"   She rises from around the campfire and gathers her shield and pulls free her warhammer.   "Whatever their motives, we must get him back, either through word or deed. What is our plan to rescue Wulf, and also keep Isolda's goods safe while we do it?"  
JNAProductions
Laughter looks around.  "I have some ability with magic-I'm very much a novice, but I've got a few spells that can help." 
VampiricLongbow
The party convenes and opts to entrust the caravan to its capable leader and her hired guards. This allows the group to embark on a quest to locate their lost companion.

Venturing into the coppice, the adventurers move past the lifeless corpse of the killed kobold and follow the trail deeper into the woods. As the sun dips below the hills, tracing the path becomes increasingly challenging. The trail meanders through the trees, revealing the human's frenzied and hasty footprints, in stark contrast to the deliberate and cautious steps of the kobold.

 
 Spoiler: Survival 


Add your own modifier to this roll.

Laughter Gembright  (1d20)[ 4 ] 
Leif  (1d20)[ 4 ] 
Ossiline Strongfall  (1d20)[ 15 ] 
Elowen Asher  (1d20)[ 12 ] 
Ammia  (1d20)[ 6 ] 
Thomas Chesterson  (1d20)[ 10 ] 
 
 Spoiler: Survival 10 
You are able to find the trail and follow it up into the hills. As you near a rocky outcropping, you spy a small hole in the hillside. A wooden spear has been stabbed into the earth outside the cave entrance, with several deer skulls impaled upon it.
 

 
 Spoiler: Survival 15 
You are able to find the trail and follow it up into the hills. As you near a rocky outcropping, you spy a small hole in the hillside. A wooden spear has been stabbed into the earth outside the cave entrance, with several deer skulls impaled upon it.

Something nags at you though. As you retrace your steps, you realize there are two different sets of kobold tracks. The group hounding your companion Wulf and another group, carefully following the others from a safe distance. These tracks head up into the hills above the cave entrance.
 

 
Gyrfalcon
Thomas is near the front of the party, following the tracks with a hunter's eye and not liking the tale they tell. As the group spots the cave ahead, he raises a hand.  "Pah. The kobolds were hunting the poor man, driving him forward like dogs and enjoying their hunt. But it looks like they drove him into that cave, and given the totems, I suspect they've driven him there for a purpose." 
JNAProductions
Frowning, Laughter asks  "Do we know how many are there?" 
VampiricLongbow
 
 Spoiler 
There looks to have been 4 or 5 kobolds herding your friend Wulf.
 
NontheistCleric
"We'll just have to run in there and make as much noise as we can," Ammia says. "Then they'll come fight us instead of hurting Wulf."