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Chapter Seven: Melshaef's Tree and the Crown of Chains

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Brendoran, human fighter/ranger


Gods above, what else is going to go wrong tonight? Bren glares at the unusual assortment of monk/mages and warg. He tries to hide his concern for Bria, and what success he has is due to his anger at their very appearance at such an awkward time. "I know who you are, monk-mages of Wee Jas, for I've fought your ilk before. You'll note it is not I who died in that fight. I didn't stop to take your compatriots' names before we killed them, but I expect you'll have heard of mine. Brendoran Sarabina, leader of the former adventuring party Light in the Dark, and now of the Wayward Wanderers. You have one of mine there, but you'll not keep her long. Let her go or face the consequences." He too draws his weapon, letting the lightning flicker off the curve of his axe's blades. His eyes remain on the foes before him, but he doesn't focus his attention so narrowly, knowing the monk-mages' penchant for attacking from the rear. Mielikki, let Vardadraug be well and Wolf's reconnaissance short! St. Cuthbert, give us the strength we're about to need against these, your foes. Help us smite them for what they've done to our Bria!
 
Location: The Road of Kings (5 days north of Summerset)


Travel time to Highwind: On day 5 of 14.


Travel time to Melshaef's Tree: On day 3 of 3.


Saturday, September 20th, 1118. Time: 11:00 a.m.


Weather: Steadily raining, the sky is thick with gray clouds. Chilly air, especially for the morning.


O.K., folks. This is me recovering from being under the weather and still trying to write. Bear with me. =)





  • Wolf does not make it thirty paces when suddenly the thick and heavy tree-line gives way, then ceases to be. Beyond the terrific greenery and under the shower of gray rain comes a stunning sight of carnage. Leonard sees this:






    15658916-Monumental-broken-trees-lying-under-canopy-of-deciduous-stand-of-Bialowieza-Forest-Stock-Photo.jpg



    (Image credit: www.123rf.com)


    Trees that have stood and benefitted the living for decades have been uprooted by something immensely powerful and tossed aside like the forgotten toys of children. There is a wide swath of destruction with monstrous Formorian footprints staining Shandra's Evergreen by the dozens. Were the rains not cloaking sight and sound, Wolf would be able to see the entirety of destruction. As things are, the Ranger-become-wolf can still feel the thunder of the Formorians' stomping across the Evergreen, the horrible roaring of their frustration, and soon, he hears the cracking of branches and the tearing of roots from the earth as the Formorians continue their terrible upheavals.


    The rain is also slowly filling the large canine tracks that furtively skirt the carnage. Time is slowly turning against Wolf, for if the rain fills the tracks, then he has nothing to follow, for scent was the first thing to become masked by the steady rains. As Wolf moves through the forest, there are more and more of these tracks, all from the same creature he is sure, but without any of the incredible stealthiness of the tracks the Wanderers first found when they moved off of the Road of Kings.


    Soon, the tracks lead Wolf to a wall of tangled briars some 30 feet wide and 15 feet in height. Wolf's expertise in tracking finds something new. There appears here a second set of tracks here, also canine, but very small, like perhaps that of a pup.


    The tracks lead straight into the wall of briars and vanishes. Meanwhile, the bellowing of the Formorians grows nearer to Wolf as the searching giants turn their direction westward and closer to the ranger.


    It seems as though Wolf has but two choices: Somehow circumvent the wall of briars or chance the danger of going back the way he came and hope the rain and forest conceal him from the misshapen eyes and hearts of the Formorians.


    It is then that a voice comes forth from the wall of briars. A young woman's voice. In the language of animals, Wolf is addressed in hushed but energetic tones.


    "Hey! What're you doin' out there?!"


    There is the low sound and a flash of black steel as a horizontal swath is cut through the wall. A pair of red gloves and boots appear in the swath and once they are firmly secured, there is a womanly grunt of exertion as suddenly, the bearer of that voice calls upon great strength and will to force open a hole in the thick wall just large enough to allow Leonard though. The vines and briars create a chorus of creaks. They strain to snap shut and return to their normal shape, but for the bow-carrying woman.


    This is the creature who provides the opening:






    gw122.jpg



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    "Now get in here already before they squash ya inta wolf-burgers!"


    Beyond the woman, Leonard can dimly see other eyes in the shadows. They peer out regarding him with curiosity, anger, and fear. They are the eyes of canines.


    Leonard is certain that he has time and opportunity to return down his old trail and attempt to evade the Formorians or he may take this path or take another of his own creation (his destiny is his own like all things in Sharseya).


    What now does Wolf decide?


  • [/media]
    Now, onto Sparkle for a moment. The lady dragoness is graceful, well-mannered, and incredibly skilled in social functions (both draconic and human). It is not out of luck or chance that Luna's father recommended Sparkle as his daughter's familiar. Sparkle often displays remarkable composure and crystalline brilliance when in the company of grand wizards, high priests, politicos, entrepreneurs, and royal blood as well as her own (as seen when the Wanderers and Koshianth the Silver Dragon crossed paths over the prismalcum).


    Sherwood... Alec is the one creature in all the universe that makes Sparkle just plain lose it!


    Why? Because Alec treats her... well... like a pet dog.


    Alec kneels down to Sparkle's level and starts blowing her kisses. "Oh, Sparkle-poo! Your daddy's home! Come give your daddy a kiss!"


    "I'll kiss you with my claws, you witless, rock-brained, incompetent womanizer!" After having been scared half to death by Alec's sudden appearance, Sparkle springs forward and lashes out at him with those aforementioned claws, only to see them pass clean through his incorporeal form. All three of you know full well that, Alec being a ghost, can become corporeal or incorporeal at will. It is an ability he oft uses to advantage, like now.


    Alec stands. "Witless and rock-brained are totally untrue. But Sparkle! 'Incompetent?' ME?!"


    Sparkle snarls viciously, threatening him with everything but her sting-tail. "You left out 'womanizer' which puts paid to my point - you tried to resurrect Viviris the Beauteous, just to satisfy your curiosity, you dolt!"


    "Oh, but Sparkley! Viviris was the most beautiful woman of her age! I couldn't let a little thing like death stop me from trying to see if we could be an item, could I?"


    Sparkle rolls her eyes. "And when she turned out to secretly be a high priestess of Loviatar?! You remember... Erythnul's ally and Mielikki's greatest foe?!"


    "Details, details! It was worth a shot! Besides... who could resist a face and body like Vivi's? OOOOH!"


    "Oh, Bahamut's shining eyes! Do you mean to say you would consider raising her again after she killed you and turned you into the ghost you are now?!"


    "Well..." Alec puts his hand to his chin. "She was quite the kisser..."


    "Pyri!" Sparkle turns sharply to Luna. Luna knows that Sparkle is now asking for any kind of help with him, for Alec is the only creature alive who can just drive her up the wall with his presence alone.


    "So!" Alec gives his signature smile. "Didn't you need a wizard versed in the necromantic arts? Not that that brought me here or anything... Father is worried sick about you, dearest sister! He is afraid you might have wound up like me!"


    "Impossible! No one but you could be so stupid!"


    Both Sparkle and Alec then turn to Luna with incredulous, wounded expressions. It is clear they expect her to sort this all out...

    Ain't family fun? 8D
 
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Leonard Wolf - The Ranger


Shape: Wolf


Wolf EXP: ~3 h


Spell 1: Delay Poison


Spell 2: Entangle


Favored Terrain: Yes


Meat or Fish: Meash


Preferred Dice: Black or Red






The torn apart greenery, albeit sad, gives Wolf little pause on his hunt, but the unexpected wall of briars does. And that's where the tracks lead. And then, someone? Another ranger? Is she doing what I think she is?


He finds himself wanting to both jump inside and not at the same time. Even his instincts are confused, probably because of their duality. Should I go or should I stay? He stands there and blinks at the woman before him for a long moment. He doesn't fear the giants. He could go back. But with what? He didn't learn anything, and this could be the chance he was looking for. After all, the tracks did lead him here. The others would be fine without him for a while longer. Yes. Finally, he makes his choice.


Wolf jumps through the opening, as curious as the eyes that stare at him from the darkness within.
 
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"Alec! You stupid bastard! Don't scare me like that! Now, come here and give me a hug!" She pulls the ghostly figure into her arms with a wide smile. "What brings you here, and can you help me? This poor man has a soul anchor, and I don't know how to safely free him to move on. You know that necromancy was never my strong suit as a Evoker."
 
Brendoran, human fighter/ranger


Bren grips his axe with determination, his face grim as the evil monk-mage speaks. His stance shifts ever so slightly in preparation, waiting for either an immediate threat to Bria or the slightest sign that their foes are about to give up talking. Under cover of the tall monk-mage's blathering on, he whispers, in Elven, to Otiorin, "Watch your back - they can teleport, and they're devilishly cunning. Mages, mind you!"


When the warg calls the tallest evildoer back to practicality, Bren realizes the time for talking is past, but he has one last thing to say - or rather, shout. With luck, he thinks, Luna will hear this as clearly as we heard Bria.





"St. Cuthbert smite you all!"
 
Bren's shout is enough to galvanise Otiorin into action. He raises his right hand to bring Moonlit Edge to bear, while his left hand slipped another of his Thunderstones out of the pouch on his belt. Time to bring the thunder.
 
Location: The Road of Kings (5 days north of Summerset)


Travel time to Highwind: On day 5 of 14.


Travel time to Melshaef's Tree: On day 3 of 3.


Saturday, September 20th, 1118. Time: 11:00 a.m.


Weather: Steadily raining, the sky is thick with gray clouds. Chilly air, especially for the morning.





  • No sooner does Leonard enter the gap does it snap shut behind him. Leonard finds himself in a tight clearing of grass and flowers with enough cover above his head that the rain itself can only trickle in. It is a terrific hiding spot about 30 feet wide by 25 feet tall with apparently only one way out (the way he entered). Before he knows it, he is nearly surrounded by more than a dozen wolves hid in the brush. They range greatly in age from two snappy old bitches to several fresh-faced brown-eyed pups. The moment it is clear to them that the woman is allowing Leonard to join their company, the pack's already frayed nerves begin to snap!


    Some of the pack regard him curiously...






    wolf-pack.jpg



    (Image credit: deadfix.com)


    ...and some regard him angrily...






    images



    (Image credit: sunnymoraine.com)


    ...and yet others regard him noisily...






    wolf-1-.jpg



    ...yet with one mighty and frightening growl from the red-clad ranger ("Shut yer rabbit holes now!"), every last wolf there quiets! One moment, it is bawling, howling chaos and the next, the rain itself is drowning out their whimpers. It is downright spooky too see it. She glares down wrathfully, fists clenched, stance wide and not one wolf matches eyes with her. They flatten their ears and look away, whining softly. All save for one.


    One wolf among the rest is growling not against her but with her, and she is the largest among them by far. One glance at that brown and black fur-clad creature and Wolf knows whose tracks led here. Unlike the human, this enormous wolf keeps her eyes steadily locked on Leonard, calmly and keenly watching his every move.






    (Guild Wars 1 Ranger with Hearty Wolf. This is the size of both the wolf Leonard followed and the Dire Wolf of Dalsus.)


    wolf2.jpg



    (Image credit: -part-t98973p13.html'>www.guildwarsguru.com)


    She is sitting. At her feet is a wolf pup, brown in color. This, Leonard might surmise, is the owner of the second pair of tracks that led here.






    Wolf-Pup-Kiss-701740.jpg



    (Image credit: shamanspack.wikia.com)


    In the language of animals, the woman fluently snarls, gripes, vents, and commands in no uncertain terms her feelings on the pack's noise. "Shut it! Tree-ripper two-legs hear, you all die! Wanna be pelt for tree-ripper?" She stares. Most of the pack looks away. Some of them face her, flatten down on their forelegs, their ears and tails low in total obedience.


    One whines. "We quiet. You alpha now."


    She shakes her head and replies in serious but softer tones. "No, not alpha. Not here ta lead ya, pal. Chompy an' I are just here ta..." She switches to the Common tongue, looks around, and runs a hand through her long auburn hair. "...We gotta find a way ta get you guys outta this awful mess."


    Beside her, sticking straight up out of the earth is a great, wide two-handed sword, its steel as black as night with an edge that looks as if its bite is colder than ice. This she pulls free with one hand and neatly sheathes into a dagger-sized sheath on her lower back below her bow and quiver. Then, like the large wolf, she gazes at Leonard for what feels like a long time.


    "Heya, friend!" she calls. "I'm Little Cub an' this here's Chomper. What's yer--"


    One of the bitches interrupts with a sharp bark. "You sure he friend?!"


    She gets a mean glare back, but she gets worse from Chomper. The huge wolf rises up in a silent rage, causing the pup at her feet to bolt to safety. In two steps, the large wolf has those giant jaws closed over the bitch's own. In beast speech, Leonard can hear the great wolf growling horribly while the bitch quivers in fear. "Cub say shut it. Shut it or I crush you."


    Cub lets out a frustrated sigh. "Let her go, Chompy. With Melshaef gone an' the bad guys takin' over their home, they're havin' a rough one." Chomper does so. Then Cub switches again back to Common and looks at Leonard again with a long, cool stare. "If there's one thing I've learned all these years, it's when ta trust yer gut. An' my gut sez this new fella's no enemy of Mielikki... Are ya?"






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Luna primly crosses her arms in front of her as she gives Alec a frosty glare. "I most certainly will not! Especially when you talk about putting my dear Sparkle on a leash! If anyone is going to tie her up, it will be me!" She grins at the offended gasp she hears from the little Pseudodragon. "Besides, I'm quite cross with you for playing such a prank on me, showing up with some scary disguise on like that! If I were more jumpy, I would have tried to toast you with my fire bolts!" She tries to continue glaring, but his boyish good looks and charm finally melt her heart. "You are a real pain in the ass, you know that? But I can't stay angry with you and you know it. You've been using that against me for years. So, while you either tell me how to free this man's soul or do it yourself, you can then tell me why daddy sent you to haunt me."
 
Leonard Wolf - The Ranger


Shape: Wolf


Wolf EXP: ~3 h


Spell 1: Delay Poison


Spell 2: Entangle


Favored Terrain: Yes


Meat or Fish: Meash


Preferred Dice: Black or Red






What have I gotten myself into?


Wolf studies the other canines around him one by one, lingering on the largest of them the longest. He makes himself relaxed, sitting down and wagging his tail. After that the woman - Cub - grabs his full attention. He listens to her while searching for anything about her that would give clues of some kind. To her question he answers as an ordinary wolf, using the simple language of animals, because he wants everyone to hear his answer: "No. I am friend."


Following that, he addresses Cub in particular, speaking only to her telepathically. "Of both Mielikki and probably you, too. Hi."
 
HP: 52


Initiative: 19


Spells per day/remaining: 4/4


Spells available: all


Active affects: Rind of Mind Shielding


Otiorin calmed himself, his attempt at unnerving these monks had had little success, obviously they were more experienced than he had hoped for. This boded somewhat ill for him. He readied himself for combat, then flicked the Thunderstone in his hand toward the face of the middle monk that stood between him and Bria. The stone arced out, but with a strange side-spin he'd given it, it veered off-target and sailed over the man's shoulder, straight into the face of the monk holding Bria. As it detonated, Otiorin shouted, "Here's the thunder!" and charged the central monk.


[dice]16043[/dice]
 
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Location: The Road of Kings (5 days north of Summerset)


Travel time to Highwind: On day 5 of 14.


Travel time to Melshaef's Tree: On day 3 of 3.


Saturday, September 20th, 1118. Time: 11:00 a.m.


Weather: Steadily raining, the sky is thick with gray clouds. Chilly air, especially for the morning.









  • This is Cub's kind of music. =)


    [media]

  • [/media]
    Upon Wolf's sending, Little Cub clenches her fist and jerks it in a fist pump of victory. In Common, she says quietly but exuberantly, "I knew there was somethin' strange about 'cha!" She begins counting the fingers on one gloved hand. "Fer starters, I know just about every wolf out in these, as they run in packs. Yer the first lone wolf I've heard of here. Second, ya obviously understand Common. Third, ya just spoke in my head. An' finally, how many wolves go runnin' around wearin' amulets?" She points at the magical amulet in which Pecker currently resides.


    "Not ta pry inta yer business, but what are ya? Druid? Ranger? Transformed wizard, maybe?"


    The monstrous wolf strides calmly beside Cub, her gaze still upon Leonard. Leonard has never seen the like of Chomper, not even in tales (Dalsus is secluded even in the best of times). In the language of animals, she speaks again and again with the hint of more intelligence than wolves normally speak with. "New-wolf Forest-friend comes with purpose, Cub."


    "What makes you say that, Chompy?" Cub replies in beast speech.


    "Tree-rippers make earth shake. Destroy forest with evil and great strength. Before them, all creatures flee. Even us. But not New-wolf Forest-friend."


    "Ya gotta point... but that's his business ta share if he wants ta." Cub stretches as the rain pours down. "Right now, our business is ta get every last wolf, sprite, an' pixie here past them giant fuglies. Time's against us. This damned storm's gonna take away our cover here, leavin' us bare-tailed an' wide open. Don't take a Mielikkian sage ta figure out what they're gonna do if that happens, so we gotta skedaddle now. Problem is, them giant fuglies are between us an' the only real way out. Once we hit the eastern path, we can cut around south an' maybe head for the Wellspring of Change. Maybe that way, we can find out what happened ta Melshaef while also gettin' you guys ta safe ground..."


    "Plan, Cub?"


    "Easy. Once the storm's full on us, you guide the pack east an' south. Meanwhile, I'll cut north from here ta Melshaef's Tree. The giant fuglies ain't found it yet. I'll grab the tree. I'm bettin' the fuglies will sense that. Then they'll come after me. When that happens, you guide the pack east an' south. Don't stop until ya hit the Wellspring of Change or run inta bonafide Forest-friends like Melshaef. I'll rendezvous with you guys when I can."


    "Alone?" Chomper's growl is not approving.


    "Chompy, you know damned well wolves make up half my family. I may not know this pack, but damned if I'm gonna leave them to the fuglies. Would you?"


    "Never."


    "O.K. It's decided. That just leaves our wild card in the deck here." Little Cub and Chomper look upon Leonard once more. Cub unshoulders her bow, a thing of beauty made of pure-white wood with a string the color of falling raindrops. "Hey, new guy! Yer welcome ta tag along as long as ya don't worsen things. Heck, yer welcome ta join in the fun if ya think yer able. What's it gonna be? Oh, an' since ya understand Common, ya gotta name or am I stuck callin' you 'Fuzzball'?"


 
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Luna holds her breath for a moment, straining to listen. After a moment, she says, "I don't hear anything, but I know better than to argue with you. Alec, this reunion will have to wait. My friends might be in trouble. Sparkle! Lets move!" With that, she hikes up her skirts to be able to run better. "Which way? Which way? There! Time to go!" She begins to bolt off, heading through the woods as fast as her legs can carry her. "Sparkle, fly ahead and see what's going on and let them know I'm on my way!"

0 - Detect Magic, Read Magic, Mage Hand, Message


1 - Enlarge Person, Shield x2, Gravity Bow, Mage Armor, Unseen Servant


2 - Mirror Image, Cat's Grace, Scorching Ray


3 - Displacement, Fireball, Lightning Bolt


4 - Extended Haste, Ball Lightning


Force Missile x8


Mage Armor in effect
 
  • Brendoran, human fighter/ranger


    Bren shakes his head in mute sympathy as the Thunderstone goes flying wide of its mark, but he has little time for regrets before he finds himself a target. He glances briefly at Otiorin, again speaking quietly in Elven, "First the right. Flank them if you can, don't let them flank you. And don't hold back." With that, he returns his gaze to the enemies before them and replies to the fourth monk/mage with equal mockery. "I suppose the world will never know, hey?" He charges towards one end of the front line, swinging his big axe in a mighty blow down upon his chosen target, then slides around to position him at the target's back, where he can reach the one in the middle as well.


 
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Leonard Wolf - The Ranger


Shape: Wolf


Wolf EXP: ~3 h


Spell 1: Delay Poison


Spell 2: Entangle


Favored Terrain: Yes


Meat or Fish: Meash


Preferred Dice: Black or Red






Wolf barks excitedly once, careful not to be too loud, and then continues speaking in the language of animals from there. "Chompy wise, but I do not fear giants. I am someone who can help. Call me..." This gives him a slight pause. Wolf? In this company, that name will only create confusion. Hm hm hm. Call me... "Ren." he decides. "Do not go south. Wellspring not safe. Corruption spreads. Been there. Found Melshaef. She with my friends. Not far."


Wolf remembers exactly in what state the Wanderers left the Wellspring of Change and the surrounding woods. What Skaagenrackner accomplished is uncertain. The area may still be unsafe, and there are other directions to flee in. Yes. He nods to himself, determined to help both of his kins. "One other thing." he adds in the end. "I hunt dire wolf. Close. Anyone felt?"
 
HP: 52


Initiative: 19


Spells per day/remaining: 4/4


Spells available: all


Active affects: Ring of Mind Shielding
Otiorin rushed forward determined that his usual run of poor luck in one-one-one combat could not persist. Already Bren was heavily engaged with two of the monks, leaving just one ready for the fight and the other holding Bria. Otiorin's eyelids narrowed over his silver eyes and their slitted pupils as he judged his odds. If he engaged the monk before him, if he or Bren killed any of their opponents, the fourth monk would kill Bria. This was not acceptable. Otiorin was within attacking range of his foe now, so he brought his blade up to attack.


Then leapt. He jumped sideways, bypassing the monks both those engaged with Bren and their unengaged comrade. He jinked back away from the slathering jaws of the massive wolf and sprinted toward the monk holding Bria.


Stay safe, I'm coming!

Taking a double move to avoid contact with the front line of monks to get into melee range of OrangeMonk. I take it a double move prevents him activating his Shield Ring?
 
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Location: The Road of Kings (5 days north of Summerset)


Travel time to Highwind: On day 5 of 14.


Travel time to Melshaef's Tree: On day 3 of 3.


Saturday, September 20th, 1118. Time: 11:00 a.m.


Weather: Steadily raining, the sky is thick with gray clouds. Chilly air, especially for the morning.





  • "Melshaef?!" Little Cub whirls to look Wolf in the eye. "Jeez-Louise, buster! Why didn't ya say so from the get-go?"


    Suddenly, a strange and magical thing happens. Dozens of little heads, arms, and wings sprout from various furry parts of the wolves as faeries of all kinds pop up and appear. "Melshaef!" "We're saaaaaaaaaaaved!" "Hooray!" "When can we see Melshaef?" "Please, please, pleeeeeease?!"


    "Pipe down, ya dingledorfs!" Cub swats the air above the heads of the multitudes and the little creatures vanish in a cacophony of cute cries. "Ya want the tree-rippers ta hear ya?" The red-clad ranger puts her hands on her hips. "Listen, Ren, or whatever ya call yerself, can ya get us ta Melshaef or her ta us? We could really use her hand at a time like this."


  • [/media]
    Once again, Otiorin makes full use of his wonderful Boots of Striding and Springing by circling around the three Monk/Mages of Wee Jas and making it to the fourth in record time. His feet kick up mud as the edge of the oncoming thunderstorm soaks all of you.


    "Hah!" one of the Wee Jas points. "Look at him leave his big friend and go after her! He must be in love!"


    On his way there, the crafty half-elf remembers to call upon the power of his enchanted Ring of Force Shield and instantly, the magical barrier rises to protect him. He sees Bria looking to him, her eyes wide, while she weakly tries to remove her gag with arms that do not seem to obey her will.


    "He is coming at me!" shouts the Wee Jas holding Bria. "Do I kill her?"


    "Send her to Hell before he aids her! The Mistress will understand!" shouts the tallest.


    "Die!" Bria turns to evade, but in her weakened state, she is far too slow to defend against the downward stab of the Monk/Mage's knife. Bria's cries out under her gag and falls, blood streaming from her back. She lies still and face down in the pouring rain.


    That monk then moves to Otiorin's south. Otiorin, if anything, is very perceptive and this serves him well here. Otiorin realizes that the Monk/Mage who stabbed Bria moved with a purpose; one of the Monk/Mages north of him is running to attack Otiorin who is now in a disadvantageous position. But those rogue-born senses of Otiorin notice something else from the south, past Bria. Something... is moving up from the south of the Road of Kings. Something big, white and black, partially cloaked by the rain, racing in savagely on all fours. The Wee Jas as yet have not noticed this. If Otiorin can but keep his enemies' attention...


    Then the charging Monk/Mage is on Otiorin and the two of them slash and swing without mercy! The charging monk has nothing in his hands, yet he is clearly deadly, for his very body is his weapon of choice.

    Not Safe For Work. The Monk/Mages of the Wee Jas in Sharseya practice a system very much like the Muay Thai here. The video below shows ring fights with blood between gloved opponents. You might notice that most of the knockouts come from the ungloved parts of the body. The Monk/Mages fight like this, but with more conviction, more determination, and, big surprise, no gloves. These skilled Muay Thai fighters are fighting for money, fame, and glory, but the Monk/Mages of Wee Jas are fighting to kill the Wanderers.


    [media]
    [/media]
    Bren, on the other hand, already finds himself inside a flank between two such empty-handed Monk/Mages! He is not there long when inside of him arises one of many dear and vibrant memories between himself and his beautiful and deadly Ko monk sister, Kikko.


    It was a bright, beautiful morning in Summerset in the Sarabina estate. They were outside but nowhere near the horses training for real combat as lifelong adventurers do. They had warmed up, stretched out, and were ready in spirit, mind, and body to learn and share the combative arts together. Kikko had spoken to Bren once again of the Wee Jas.


    "Understand, my brother," the tigress explained, "you have seen that I favor the Stance of Breaking, but the Wee Jas practice differently. Their stances and systems are not ours and you will face them at some point on the road." Kikko switched from her incredibly powerful Stance of Breaking to a tighter, less mobile stance, one that Bren did not know at the time. Kikko's long silver mane blew in the wind and never in her eyes as she regarded Bren with the steely-blue gaze they both gained from their father. While Bren kept his weapons and armor in the finest condition, it was the way of the Ko to treat their bodies and minds with the same care and attention. Kikko was always a shining example of the woman warrior even among her own people. But fitness and lifelong devotion alone did not a wise warrior make.


    "This is the Stance of Pain and the primary stance used by the fighting Wee Jas. The more magically inclined use a softer system I will share with you another time." Her eyes gleamed as her hands came up, and her chin came down. "Now defend yourself, brother, or fall to pain."


    Bren soon discovered his warrior fighting stance was not enough to defend himself against the Wee Jas Stance of Pain. In moments, Kikko had kicked his thighs to the point his left leg was in great discomfort. She battered him with spinning elbows, pushing kicks, uppercuts, and low kicks of every kind. Bren adapted to this by switching to his ranger-taught melee fighting stance and it helped to some degree, but it was still not enough. Brother and sister nodded to one another. It was then that Kikko taught Bren how to defend against the Stance of Pain while keeping his own mobile, hard-hitting system that had served him well against both dragons and giants. Bren practiced and practiced.


    Now Bren's effort with Kikko was paying off.


    On the Road of Kings in the rainstorm, the Wee Jas grin evilly as they come in, smashing and kicking. But unlike other warriors, Bren knows to shift his stance. As those brutal low kicks came in, Bren remembers to quickly raise his knee up in a shin block. He has learned to keep his guard tight, not leave himself open, and even how to use his shield to terrific effect. The grins of the Wee Jas soon fade to frustration and then boil over into hot anger.


    "What da fuck!" the Wee Jas on him demand. "How you know us?! Who da fuck teach you?!" They glance to Bria and back again to Bren. "Your knowledge... it will die with you!"


    Yet Bren does not need Kikko to tell him that talk... is only talk. The Wee Jas psychological strategy works well on unassuming opponents - but Bren learned how to get past that long ago.

    The aforementioned knowledge does not provide Bren any numerical bonuses (Armor Class, Saving Throws, etc.) against the Wee Jas, but there are certain tricks that, if they try, he will know how to defend himself against and I will take that into account should they arise.


    Enemy results: Despite Bren's best efforts, the flanking Wee Jas get some mean shots in on Bren's ribs and face. Bren takes 23 hit points of damage. The charging Monk/Mage on Otiorin hurtles through the air with a feigned kick disguising a nasty elbow aimed at Otiorin's skull, but the perceptive rogue nimbly sidesteps the blow.
 
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Leonard Wolf - The Ranger


Shape: Wolf


Wolf EXP: ~3 h


Spell 1: Delay Poison


Spell 2: Entangle


Favored Terrain: Yes


Meat or Fish: Meat


Preferred Dice: Black or Red






Aside from the initial surprise, Wolf remains unfazed by the faeries and their reactions to the mention of Melshaef's name. He tilts his head as he ponders Little Cub's question.


"Have to get to road then." he continues in animal speak. "Like said, not far. But giants in the way. Want to run for it? And where dire wolf?"
 
Brendoran, human fighter/ranger


  • Current AC: 26


    Fort save: +11


    Ref save: +7


    Will save: +4


    Current action points: 6


    Current HP: 55/78


    Status effects: Combat Expertise




    Bren frowns when Otiorin ignores his orders and runs straight for the captive Bria instead, but in all fairness he cannot blame the half-elf, for there was a time when he, too, threw caution to the wind to save the life of one he cared deeply for. And that is all the reflection he has time for before the two Monk/Mages whose attention he'd deliberately drawn begin to fight in earnest. The advice of his youngest and most unexpected sibling jumps into the fore, and he smiles grimly at frustration it provokes in his foes. "The fight's ending is yet to be determined, but know this - the one who taught me is not present, and you cannot end this knowledge here!" His smile tightens into a grimace as some of the blows connect, but he is an experienced warrior, and does not let the pain slow him. Then it is his turn to act...


    He quickly looks around the battlefield to assess how the situation may have changed. The dire wolf's continued passivity (and obvious, unusual intelligence) concerns him, but at the moment the beast is no immediate threat. The two Monk/Mages flanking Otiorin, though...quick though the half-elf may be, Bren knows that the humans facing him are also quick - possibly equally quick - and has no intention of leaving his friend to fight alone. With opponents as cruel and cunning as these, and outnumbered as the party is, it is imperative that they fight as a team, even if there are only two of them present and capable of acting. He hopes that Luna is on her way, but he has no means of knowing if she even heard his earlier shout with all the rain and forest between them. Nor can he know the whereabouts of Saberfang, whom he had expected to find with Bria and Vardadraug, or her son Powerpaw, most likely at the wagons still. He must act on the assumption that he and Otiorin are on their own in this battle; to do otherwise would be relying on potentially false hopes that could get them into worse trouble. Not to mention poor Bria, whose fate he is neither oblivious to nor unconcerned with; but there is little he can do for her besides draw their foes' attention away from her, which indeed, appears to be Otiorin's plan as well.


    He glances tauntingly at the two Monk/Mages flanking him. "Try to keep up, slaves of Wee Jas!" Then the big human whirls with expert timing and dashes towards the other knot of combat to slam his battleaxe into the nearest Monk/Mage flanking Otiorin. As he does so, he calls out in Elven, "Flank with me, roguish one! We can't save her if we're dead ourselves!"


 
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HP: 52


Initiative: 19


Spells per day/remaining: 4/4


Spells available: all


Active affects: Ring of Mind Shielding, Ring of Force Shield




Otiorin laughed gaily as he danced a dance of light and shadows out of the way of the mage/monk's attack. He had seen the onrushing white figure and knew he had to keep the monks focused on him. He could see that they thought highly of their skills, arrogantly so. That would be their weak point.


"How predictably pathetic you are, monkeys! I act inept and the first thing you do is underestimate me. Now I've mixed up your battlelines and you scrabble to try to regain the initiative. But face it, you've lost the edge and now all of you will die. I should have asked you for your next of kin details, so I know where to send your ashes."


He moved to where Bren had indicated and directed a brutal thrust at the back of one of the Wee Jas cultists the veteran warrior was engaged with.


"Instead, I'll just grit the King's Road with your ashes."


[dice]16536[/dice]

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Location: The Road of Kings (5 days north of Summerset)


Travel time to Highwind: On day 5 of 14.


Travel time to Melshaef's Tree: On day 3 of 3.


Saturday, September 20th, 1118. Time: 11:00 a.m.


Weather: Steadily raining, the sky is thick with gray clouds. Chilly air, especially for the morning.





  • Chomper licks her fangs and Cub licks her teeth beneath her ever-present mask. "That's the second time you've asked about that damned warg. Let's get tactics outta the way first... You mentioned a road? The Road of Kings?" Cub folds her arms and shakes her head, tossing her wild hair from side to side. "Ain't happenin'. That Wee Jas cult is watchin' that road fer somebody and they've already cost us ten of our number. I ain't makin' it eleven an' that's tha--" Then the lively ranger pauses as facts connect in her mind. "Hold yer horses... You sayin' Melshaef's comin' up that road?" She slams a fist into her open palm and snarls wolf-like and vehemently. "She's walkin' inta an ambush!"


    Chomper growls low and dangerously causing the other wolves beside her to shrink back reflexively even though they are not the cause of her ire. Such a rowl from a creature her size and ferocity sounds like hatred personified. "Hrrrrrr! Cub recalls mouth-noises they made?"


    "Yeah... They said somethin' about... 'catchin' a fallin' star.' But what in Hells does it mean? I still can't make any sense outta it." Cub looks up. "How about you, Ren?"


    A moment passes and the sound of something small and crying reaches Wolf's ears. Cub steps over and reaches down into the thick fur around Chomper's muscled neck. There, she gently scoops up a tiny, winged boy curled in fetal position. "I'm so scared, Little Cub! We are caught like flies between vile-hearted magisters and mountain-strong giants! Is it our destiny to join the others in eternal blackness?!"


    "Hey, hey," Cub rubs the pixie's hair with slow soothing gentleness. "C'mon, Tickleberry, would Melshaef want ya thinkin' like that? Yer the High Song now that Bentroot's gone. We can't head out an' south 'cause Ren says it's dangerous there, an' the Road of Kings is a bear-trap with its jaws open. There's gotta be another shelter around here. All that whisperin' you and the Druids are always doin'... Ain't there somethin', Tickleberry?"


    "Well... there is the Wellspring of Warmth, but Scamp is guarding the way! He'll never let us in after our last visit!"


    Cub holds up her right little finger. "Then you gotta promise ta behave in there this time!"


    "Pinky swears?"


    "Darned right! An' that means all of ya! Raise up that right pinky an' swear you'll behave in the Wellspring of Warmth! Right now!"


    Everywhere that Ren can see, dozens of little pinky fingers rise up out of wolf fur and three from his own. "Ooh, his fur is so soft!" "Like a newborns!" "But he's an adult!"


    Cub snaps her fingers. "C'mon, ya little troublemakers! Pop out! Pinky swears don't count unless yer visible!" Several more little fingers appear from nowhere and join the others. "There ya go! Ya swear?"


    "We swear!" comes the answer.


    Tickleberry pleads. "But what if Scamp doesn't show us the way even after pinky swears?"


    "What?!" Cub suddenly assumes a wide fighting stance with fists clenched. "You tell that little fuzzhead if he doesn't let you in after you've pinky sworn ta me... well... I'll pinch his nose!"


    A collective gasp goes up among the pixies (and a few of the wolves)! "Oh my!" "You wouldn't!" "By the Forest Mother!" "He'll go berserk!"


    "You can bet'cher pretty wings I will! You tell him I said so, too! I know where his favorite holes are! I'll find him!"


    Chomper lets out a low rumble. "Three paths, Cub. Storm is moving quickly..."


    Cub calms a little and turns to Ren. "Yeah... An' with it, our time and lives. O.K., bud. Here's how it is. I'm gonna distract those Formorian bastards an' get Melshaef's Tree ta safety before they find an' destroy it."


    Great Chomper intervenes this time with an insistent push of her muzzle against Cub's thigh. "Cub cannot go alone. She will die on two feet, but not four."


    Cub thinks about that and sighs, rubbing Chomper's forehead. "Yeah... yer right, Chompy. It's the two of us then. Me shootin', you runnin' with me on yer back." She turns back to Ren and Tickleberry. "Chompy an' I are gonna hit the tree-rippers an' Melshaef's Tree. That's when all of you follow Tickleberry ta the Wellspring of Warmth!"


    "Ren, first off, I'll agree ta tell ya what I know about that damned warg when I have the time, which sure as hell ain't now!. You help out here some way an' you an' I'll have a campfire chat about that bastard later. Right now, you gotta choice ta make. You can come with Chompy an' me an' assist with the fuglies an' Melshaef's Tree, or you can help Tickleberry guide what's left of Mielikki's followers here ta the Wellspring of Warmth an' help convince Scamp ta let 'em in, or you can hightail it back down the Road of Kings if ya think there's time ta warn Melshaef of that Wee Jas ambush on the road."


    Sensing action, the entire pack of wolves rises up and faeries disappear. Cub eyes the sole exit to your hidden clearing as the thunderstorm continues.


    "What's it gonna be, fella?"






    Another option that our wild woman of action here has not mentioned is - you, of course, have the option of making up any plan of your own. Sharseya is an open world and you are free to do as you will, not just as one of my NPCs has suggested. Just a reminder that this isn't a railroad; you can do as you please. =)


 
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Brendoran, human fighter/ranger


Current AC: 26


Fort save: +11


Ref save: +7


Will save: +4


Current action points: 6


Current HP: 45/78


Status effects: Combat Expertise


The surprises come one right after the other - first the contact from Sparkle, then the unexpected appearance of Powerpaw! Thank you, St. Cuthbert! Quickly Bren throws some urgent information to Sparkle in the brief time he has*. Sparkle, you wondrous -- warn her, 4 Monk/Mages of Wee Jas, might teleport behind her. Take them down, quickly! But 'ware the warg!


*OOC: I asked if I could reply now, and GM said I could as long as it's less than 6 seconds. Any more, and Bren will have to hold it until his turn.
 
Change of plans. Instead of updating the post I wrote above, I'll just write the new part of the story here (and save you guys from having to reread my above posts). There is enough to read below as it is. =)

Location: The Road of Kings (5 days north of Summerset)


Travel time to Highwind: On day 5 of 14.


Travel time to Melshaef's Tree: On day 3 of 3.


Saturday, September 20th, 1118. Time: 11:00 a.m.


Weather: Steadily raining, the sky is thick with gray clouds. Chilly air, especially for the morning.





  • Using her precious and tremendously useful mental bond, Sparkle sends the following message to Luna from Brendoran. Luna! Bren says, ...Warn her, 4 Monk/Mages of Wee Jas, might teleport behind her. Take them down, quickly! But 'ware the warg!





    Luna knows she is getting close as she can barely hear the sounds of battle (save for the shouting voices from this round of combat, which she hears clearly enough). She will be involved in the battle in seconds.


 
Brendoran, human fighter/ranger


Standard AC: 24


Fort save: +11


Ref save: +7


Will save: +4


Current action points: 6


Current HP: 45/78


Status effects: none


Bren grins down at the fallen Monk/Mage (green), but his glee is short-lived. First the lightning bolt to poor Otiorin, and now the sudden appearance of a fifth Monk/Mage, this one using a style he'd thought no follower of Wee Jas capable of learning. Unfazed by the Monk/Mage leader's order for his death, he calls back mockingly, "So, you admit your own style isn't good enough, and that of the Ko is better?"


With that, he turns to his own actions, and that of his party. He pulls out a small, honey-colored glass jar, sidesteps forward (5-foot step, diagonal down/right on the map) and hands it quickly to Otiorin. "Back a pace and use this on your injuries!"* His eyes flick to Bria, but he says nothing further about the jar. To Powerpaw he says, "Closer to Bria, Fur-Face!" and motions for the big cat to take a step forward, which will not only put Powerpaw next to Bria (Bren's ostensible motivation, to get through Powerpaw's rage), but allow him reach M/M Blue (and possibly Red, if Red follows Bren).


Then he looks past the Monk/Mages in front of him and directs his next words to the suddenly-arrived Monk/Mage Purple. "You fight like my youngest sister! You'd best be better than she, or you've no chance of beating me!"


*OOC note: Per a discussion with the GM, using this Restorative Ointment provokes attacks of opportunity, so Bren is telling Otiorin to take a 5-foot step out of melee range to do so. Applying it to his injuries will heal 1d8+5 points of damage. There is currently five applications' worth of ointment in the jar; perhaps Otiorin can think of something to do with the remaining uses? ;) Note that further uses will probably have to wait for another turn, as using an item is a standard action (and you only get one of those per turn, barring some spells) and making a 5-foot step means you can't make another move in that turn.
 
Leonard Wolf - The Ranger


Shape: Wolf


Wolf EXP: ~3 h


Spell 1: Delay Poison


Spell 2: Entangle


Favored Terrain: Yes


Meat or Fish: Meat


Preferred Dice: Black or Red






Wolf ponders the situation for as long as he can afford to. He weighs each option carefully while randomly glancing around the shelter. Not much point in escorting this party to the other wellspring, he thinks to himself. They should be able to make it on their own, and besides, there are higher priorities at hand now. This ranger could use some help, and the way she speaks of Melshaef's Tree makes me want to see it for myself before it's too late... But if there's an ambush waiting for my friends, then I have no choice, he decides. I have to warn them. Or get Bren and Luna to warn them. I could send Pecker, or maybe...


Finally, what the ranger wolf says out loud in response to Cub is: "Never heard of this cult, but sounds like danger. Can't let Melshaef and others stumble into danger. I will scout and warn, then look for you later."


With his mind made up, Wolf stands at attention, ready and eager to go.
 



HP: 6


Initiative: 19


Spells per day/remaining: 4/4


Spells available: all


Active affects: Ring of Mind Shielding, Ring of Force Shield




Otiorin didn't so much sidestep as was physically thrust aside by the force of first the kick and second the bolt of incandescent lightning that struck him soundly in the chest. His body burned with pain, muscles spasming as the malevolent magic earthed through his limbs and the scent of burnt flesh and hair filled the air. He coughed out a cloud of steam from his scorched lungs, but his mouth opened only wide enough to close around the stopper of the vial Brendoran had passed him. He spat the stopper aside and slapped some of the soothing ointment on his burnt skin as swiftly as his aching limbs would allow.


"You morons do a piss-poor job with this 'capturing' lark. Just another show of your utter ineptitude.", he managed to gasp between torn lips even as the ointment sent a cooling surge through his body.

Taking five-foot step in the direction indicated by Bren and using ointment


[dice]17001[/dice]
 
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