Completed Play-by-Post: In Search of the Sorcerer

[Llywelyn ap Gruffydd]

"I just want the thing dead so I can get that bowl of stew I've had to go without. At least our fallen hero had more courage than some of the other members of the town, but I wouldn't have blamed him for not wanting to come outside. I really didn't want, and still don't want to be outside!" Cormac stops, bends over and takes a few deep breaths. Looks up at the group, looks down again, lifts his head one last time and continues running at his mediocre pace.

 

[nikolokolus]

"Now that we're pariahs anyway, why not loot that tomb once we've found the wolf's lair?" says Ker while running with the others

Is this said in Keltic or Common tongue (Illyrian)?

Jogging behind the wolf takes you to the shore and and a trail that skirts the western edge of the lake and veers south into the moor and beyond. Brule points ahead with his sword, "Look. It heads for the woods. If it makes the trees I fear we'll lose it." The wolf keeps putting distance between you and it as it lopes freely through the air. In the pale moonlight that occasionally peeks through the clouds all you can see is rolling moorland rising ahead of you, the forest's edge is beyond your vision, but from what you recollect of your descent from the menhirs, you guess it is at least 3 or 4 miles off.

 

[L'ennui]

Urash's part was spoken in Illyrian... He was briefed on the basics (but only the basics) of intercultural etiquette before he was sent here from Acadia. Insulting the venerated saviour of Crannógmere is not something he would risk doing in Keltic.

 

[Helly]

"Now that we're pariahs anyway, why not loot that tomb once we've found the wolf's lair?" says Ker while running with the others

Is this said in Keltic or Common tongue (Illyrian)?

Jogging behind the wolf takes you to the shore and and a trail that skirts the western edge of the lake and veers south into the moor and beyond. Brule points ahead with his sword, "Look. It heads for the woods. If it makes the trees I fear we'll lose it." The wolf keeps putting distance between you and it as it lopes freely through the air. In the pale moonlight that occasionally peeks through the clouds all you can see is rolling moorland rising ahead of you, the forest's edge is beyond your vision, but from what you recollect of your descent from the menhirs, you guess it is at least 3 or 4 miles off.

Spoiler

In common, I should have precised it, my bad.

 

[nikolokolus]

Urash's part was spoken in Illyrian... He was briefed on the basics (but only the basics) of intercultural etiquette before he was sent here from Acadia. Insulting the venerated saviour of Crannógmere is not something he would risk doing in Keltic.

Spoiler

In common, I should have precised it, my bad.

OOC

It's not a problem at all. From now I'll assume everything is spoken in common unless people tell me otherwise (or unless you address Fidach or Brule directly and I already know that your only means of communication is some language like Keltic or Pictish Keltic

The only reason I really need to know is that you speaking about looting the tomb has some importance in this situation.

A few more minutes of pursuit go by and the purplish flames that mark the wolf get farther and farther away. Meanwhile, the clouds seem to gather in strength and the moonlight that occasionally illuminates the heather-covered hills begins to prove insufficient to keep up the pursuit of the wolf -- toes are stubbed and people begin to stumble in the dark as you all begin your ascent into the hills south of the lake.

Brule curses loudly and stops in the middle of the narrow game trail that serves as the most expedient route into the wilds. A few moments later you hear the clack of stone on stone and sparks fly into a patch of tinder on the ground. "The beast is going to be out of sight soon and we're going to need light if there's any hope of finding track or spore."

 

[Llywelyn ap Gruffydd]

Cormac sees that it is becoming too dark to see and stops to make a quiet prayer to Arawn, asking him to bestow his blessing upon the object he is carrying in his hands.

Spoiler

Casting Light on the not so pointy stick he made to use like a torch.

 

[Siveon]

Spoiler

I vaguely recall leveling up to level 2 and getting myself Faerie Fire as well. Might have to recheck that.

 

[Grimgravy]

"Brule, do you know of any caves or other possible dens in the direction the wolf is headed?" Rhenmyr asks in Keltic scanning the area for blood drops.

 

[nikolokolus]

Brule finally manages to get a small flame going and holds it to his torch at almost exactly the same moment Cormac finishes his incantation and shakes his head a little. He then turns and listens to Rhenmyr, "A few miles Southwest is the fens." He grimaces a little. "Not a place to tarry in the dark."

Rhenmyr looks around carefully at the ground as the bounding wolf disappears over the hilltop.

OOC

Go ahead and roll a 1d100 (90% chance)

 

[Grimgravy]

Looking for blood trail

d100: [1d100] = 57

 

[nikolokolus]

With the aid of Cormac and Brule's lights, Rhenmyr carefully inspects the ground and the low shrubby heath. There are obvious splotches of thick black blood every few yards. You are fairly confident in being able to track the wounded creature.

 

[Grimgravy]

"It went this way. Let's go!" Rhenmyr says in Keltic and Ilyrian. Rhenmyr follows the blood trail.

 

[Siveon]

"Fantastic!" Marcán paces forward, following right behind Rhenmyr.

 

[L'ennui]

Urash follows, trying not to lose his footing in the settling darkness.

 

[Llywelyn ap Gruffydd]

Cormac brings up the rear of the group.

 

[nikolokolus]

The hill steepens and hiking in the dim light proves difficult, but after perhaps a half-hour of trudging through trackless heather, you all crest the hillock and look out and down over a over a knot of brambles and dead trees at the edge of your light. The fetid stench of rotting vegetation and swampy muck fills your nostrils and a cacophony of sounds assaults your ears - a chorus of frogs and toads, yowling screeches and other unwholesome, unidentifiable sounds.

Brule looks uncertainly at Fidach and Oona and speaks in High Keltic, "Stay here brother and keep her safe. This is no place for a girl." Fidach's eyes flash with surprise, "You don't intend to go in there do you?! Gods man, wait 'til first light at least!"

 

[ERYFKRAD]

Spoiler

Uh, someone do a roll to sense danger on my behalf please, I can't into internet at the moment.

 

[Siveon]

Spoiler

Heh, and what roll was that again? D6, D20...

 

[L'ennui]

"Not the most glorious locale I've had the pleasure of visiting..." Urash mumbles, pinching his nose.

 

[Llywelyn ap Gruffydd]

"I think I liked that tower better than this place."

 

[Helly]

"That smell of nature's decay and putrefaction is anything but natural... This must be the beast's lair alright. We must restore this place to its formal beauty, comrades!"

 

[nikolokolus]

Spoiler

Uh, someone do a roll to sense danger on my behalf please, I can't into internet at the moment.

OOC

I've got you covered. Sense danger roll [1d20] = 6 vs. target 13

Borric peers into the inky darkness straining for some sign of imminent danger, but detects nothing.

 

[Grimgravy]

"It is an unpleasant odor." Then in Keltic: "Let us search out the lair, but attack in the daylight. Marcan, perhaps you should tell Brule what the old woman said of combating the wolf."

 

[nikolokolus]

Brule frowns deeply, "Fine. We wait until morning. Set a watch." He then takes up his torch and begins to walk to the right at the edge of the stinking, unwholesome swamp.

Fidach motions to Oona to fall back, but she resists and stridently begins arguing with him in a loud whisper. Urash's ears perk up as you hear snippets of Pictish that rise above the unsettling chorus emanating from the fen.
Oona: "Let me go *Inaudible* mine to give *inaudible again*
Fidach: "Fool girl *inabudible grumble* go lay down."

 

[L'ennui]

Urash says to the group, in Illyrian: "Our former host seems to having some difficulties. I'll check it out." He then slowly walks towards Fidach and Oona.

Speaking in a hushed tone, he says to them in Pictish: "Pardon my brutish intrusion, I couldn't help but overhear you arguing. I trust there is no problem? As we say in Acadia, even the dead have ears... And I fear we are surrounded by all manners of deathly things."

Urash turns towards the woman and concludes:
"Best tread lightly and keep our calm, do you not agree, Lady Oona? There will be time enough for arguments tomorrow. For now we must be vigilant, united and quiet..."

Urash motions to the surrounding darkness as if to remind the woman of their situation.

"... Of course, if it is something any here can help you with, I am certain we will do what we can."