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

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Purr

Kaerri's Man. =)
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<p>


Finally, the afternoon winds up and the Wanderers are put to work by a pair of hobbits and an aging scholar when the little lady among them says with hands on her hips and in motherly tones, "<em>Listen, </em>you grand adventurers! We have got over a dozen horses to feed and clean, battle-marks to fix on the wagons, and dinner to prepare and if you think the three of <em>us </em>are doing it all by ourselves, why you are clear off your rockers! So <em>wander </em>over here like good people and pitch in <em>- if you want to get fed fine hobbit-made meals, that is!</em>" Even Mamapaw hops up and moves when little Whittle comes storming in thusly. Presuming every Wanderer lends a helping hand, the next two days pass by rather quickly. Bren keeps his promise of sparring and training and in short order, each of you learn new ways to do old things while turning bad habits to turn into good. During this process, your bodies discover how to ache in places most of you were not ready for. In the meantime, between wonderful meals and long hours underneath cloudy skies and between miles of towering greenery, Stewart and Whittle find all manner of things that need doing. In due time, both hobbits and scholar are satisfied as the Wanderers have two tidy and orderly, terrific-looking wagons and fifteen beautiful horses clopping along with them. All that clopping along gets you all closer and closer to Melshaef's Tree and in this morning, you are closer than ever. Sabrefang practices a new defensive shield technique in a way Otiorin or Bren might have recently taught her. About this time, Bronze is ready to present Sabrefang a bundle of newly-crafted beauties (the large-sized Masterwork dagger, large-sized Magical scimitar +1, large-sized full suit of fire-resistant leather armor +2 - all of which were done ahead of schedule. If Bronze stays on course, he will have her staff and large wooden shield done by Sunday). As for today it is now... </p>


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<div class="ipsSpoiler_contents"><p> Location: The Road of Kings Saturday, September 20th, 1118. Time: 9:30 a.m. Weather: Cloudy with cold winds. Travel time to Highwind: On day 5 of 14. Travel time to Melshaef's Tree: On day 3 of 3. </p></div>


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<p> It has been steadily raining in the early afternoon for the past two days. It is the kind of rain that clears the air and washes the earth well, but has no effect on travel or on the ever-steady Road of Kings. This morning, Sabrefang is in a worried mood as she stands on the top of the Adventurers' Wagon with her son and Bria (and anyone else who wants up there - it really is the only place to comfortably fit the Felane outside while in motion). While fur and hair flutter in the cool wind, Sabrefang looks off in the distance with a patience that only the wise know. "Another hour and we will be there. If... there is a there to... be there." She looks the sky and sniffs. <span style="color:#b30000;">"I hope some bad guyz is dere so we kin smack some faces!" </span><span style="color:#000000;">Powerpaw hugs his maul.</span> <span style="color:#b30059;">"I just hope the refugees you mentioned are safely away."</span> Sabrefang smiles a little. "We had plans of escape down secret routes should hope fall. I only hope they made it to those routes. The tracks will tell. Ohh... If only I had not left to find the Daughters of Summertime, I would not have been captured in the first place. Do you think it was a mistake for me to seek them or is this mother just being foolish?" Her question is for anyone present.


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Before starting out in the morning, Luna would prepare an Extended Mage Armor and cast it, having it last for 14 hours.
Luna places a gentle hand on the furry woman's arm and says, "You can spend an entire lifetime with 'what if's'. What if I didn't become a mage? What if I never met the other Wanderers? What if I had turned left instead of right?" She smiles. "It is only natural to have questions about how things would be different, but you must never let it consume you. I have made my share of mistakes in my life, and if I only thought about those, I could never make a decision again, even if it is a bad one. Just let your experiences guide you to the future."

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 for a total of 14 hours.
 
Location: The Road of Kings


Saturday, September 20th, 1118. Time: 9:30 a.m.


Weather: Cloudy with cold winds.


Travel time to Highwind: On day 5 of 14.


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


Bria pulls her long brown hair out of her face, thinks a moment, and then the Ko monk nods. "I agree. One can only live in the present, prepare for the future, and learn from the past. However... the time to live and act is now. It's... really the only time you can do anything at all."


Mamapaw sighs heavily and looks to be considering these points of view. Every time she looks down the road, she wrings her paws as if she cannot help it. Still, she looks down to the two of you and smiles a little. "You offer me detours off of the sorry road I find myself on. That road leads into the past." Once again, she peers far down the road as Stewart guides the Adventurers' Wagon along, whistling a soft tune to himself. This time, however, her paws are calm. "I ought to let my experiences guide myself to my future, whatever it may be. That... is something I can do now. Something I ca--"


Without warning, Mamapaw's eyes narrow as she peers up the Road of Kings. The druidess raises a paw shields her eyes from the sky. "Eyes of Bast... What... Just what kind of marks... are those?"


Powerpaw and Bria turn and look while Stewart trades whistling for watching.


There, in the Road of Kings, erupting from Shandra's Evergreen, are two sets of odd-shaped humanoid footprints. They make uneven tracks along the highway, tracks easily able to be seen given that these footsteps belong to two creatures that dwarf ogres...


Bria puts her hand over her heart and stares at the tracks. "Um... what do you think those belong to?"





Neither Felane nor scholar raise an answer.
 
Luna frowns, but she takes a moment to look at the tracks. As she does so, she sends the thought to Sparkle, Dear one, could you please gather up our Rangers and come up here? We have come across some . . . unusual tracks, and I would like their expertise.


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"Morning, all." Wolf said, coming out for some fresh air. The continuous rain only seemed to bother him a little, judging from that brief yet noticeable frown on his face. "What is so interesting that you're - oh." He noticed the tracks as well and instinctively tried recalling if he'd seen them before. Familiar, yet...


[dice]10968[/dice]
 
Having chosen to spend the morning on his horse, Bren is riding cheerfully beside the wagons, drifting forwards and backwards as the mood strikes him to talk to the drivers of each. The sudden absence of Stewart's whistling catches his attention, and he rides up to the first and bigger wagon. "Hey, Stewart, what's ... ah." Like the others, he falls silent while studying the mysterious tracks.

7 ranks in Monster Lore


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3 ranks in Survival


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There is a dread feeling that comes over even the experienced adventurer when they are confident they have found tracks like these. It brings to mind large, bad images...

200px-Fomorian.JPG



(Image credit: en.wikipedia.org)


tumblr_inline_nh66gqy6Ev1r0zz7o.jpg



(Image credit: thecreaturechronicle.tumblr.com)


Or in other words... Formorian giants...


Their ugliness is matched only by their incredible might and penchant for wickedness and cruelty, yet what they are doing so very far south from their massive and treacherous homeland folks call the Hunder Hills is beyond you. Luna, Wolf, and Bren can all share a knowing expression - your education or experience tells each of you that Formorians often keep to themselves. For a pair of them to travel means a desire outside of their realm means great curiosity, something they are not known for.


With that knowledge comes more.


Formorians are also known to be able to best Hill Giants without much trouble (they are not quite as stupid or clumsy as their giant-relatives) and two of them would be quite the challenge for the Wanderers. Formorians are also known to hate beauty of all kinds. This goes double for pretty looking-people like Bria and Luna whom they would likely find seriously hideous. Lastly, Formorians are no friends of the forest or of Mielikki; it is said that once the Hunder Hills was a bright and green forest... that is until the Formorians and Hill Giants moved in from the east long ago. For love of destruction, they ripped up the trees, slew any wildlife that were unlucky enough to cross their paths, and otherwise made the land as ugly as they could.


And here you find recent tracks, each 2 feet deep on average, of two Formorians heading northbound along the road. A 1-foot trench sometimes runs along the far right side of the Road of Kings. Bren's education and experience tell him this is the track of what was once a small growing tree is now likely a club - a club the size of a small dead tree, that is...


Stewart, the one scholar among you, stops the horses when he sees the tracks for himself. His eyesight is not what it was when he was a young man, but it tells him enough to be wise now. When the Adventurers' Wagon comes to a halt, so does the Forge Wagon behind it. Bonny and Whittle are driving that wagon; you can expect to see one of those hobbits shortly. =)
 
Luna looks at the tracks with a frown. "I must say, if we were to run into these things, the first spell out of my arsenal is Haste, then we can bring the hurt to these guys." She idly nibbles on her fingernail. "I also hate to suggest it, but with as fresh of these tracks are, perhaps we should look for them to make sure that they don't hurt somebody? I would hate to have that on my conscience if there was something that could be done about it."
 


  • Location: The Road of Kings


    Saturday, September 20th, 1118. Time: 9:30 a.m.


    Weather: Cloudy with cold winds.


    Travel time to Highwind: On day 5 of 14.


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






    Bren's Survival roll also tells him these tracks are two days old, two and a half at the most. The Formorians were moving northward up the Road of Kings at a rather eager pace...
 
Otiorin knew who approached even before he saw her. The gentle slap-slap of her sandaled feet was easily discernible from the heavier treads of the other male Wanderers, even Wolf's, and the distinctive sound of the reed soles of her footwear were markedly different from the leather of Luna's half-boots. He looked up and returned her smile, even as he accepted her gift of the cocoa. The rich warm scent of the drink wreathed around his face and he took a small sip before setting it aside to hear what she had to say.


Okay, this is it. This is the time I have to do what needs to be done.


He nodded, the smile fading from his lips slightly and indicated that she could sit by him. As she drew herself up beside him, he took a deep breath in and let it out as a long sigh. There's no trimming it, this will be hard.


"Yes, it's probably best that we speak of this now and have done with it.", he began, "Now, I have some things to say and I wish to say them before you respond, so please give me chance to say my piece."


This said, he cleared his throat nervously and began.


"I feel I must needs apologise to you, both for what I said to you in Karthas's lair and my actions of late. I have... I have been preying upon your good nature to protect you, implying things by word and deed that were not true. By that, I mean, I told you that I love you and acted in a manner of a man enamoured of you. These things were untrue, and I beg your forgiveness in making you believe them to be the case. I said and acted in that manner in the hopes of ensuring that you would do as I ask of you in times of great strife without question, simply on the belief that I was making the request of a lover. On reflection, I have found that act to be morally repugnant and I wish to have it known that was my intent. I do consider you to be a good and close friend, if you would so have me as such with my revelations just now, but I do not harbour any feelings for you beyond that of a friend and trusted companion-in-arms."


He let out another sigh and nodded again in a silent sign that he had, for the moment, finished speaking and was awaiting any response. This is really hard.
 
Bren frowns in thought. "Fomorian giants... as ugly outside as they are within. What in Mielikki's green forest could have compelled these two to come so far south? And have they done whatever it is they came for, I wonder? These tracks are headed back north." He looks over as Luna speaks up. "Not so recent as you may think; even with all the rain we've been having, it will be some time before the tracks are fully erased. I'd say the giants are two, perhaps two and a half days ahead of us, and at some speed. Also, if it came to a fight, they would be quite the challenge for us - or we for them, however you choose to look at it." He looks over the tracks again, shaking his head at the marks of the "club." "Still, I've no love for any evil giant - quite the opposite, in fact - and these are certainly that. With a proper plan, some preparation, and good teamwork, I believe we can take them. What do you all say to Wolf, Vardadraug, and myself scouting out their trail, when we've narrowed their lead a bit? And in the meanwhile, some of us --" his gaze includes Otiorin as well as his fellow ranger "--could be scouting around for what we can learn at Melshaef's Tree." He glances up at Sabrefang. "Speaking of which, do you think these had any hand in destroying your tree? It's the sort of thing they'd take joy in."
 



  • Sabrefang replies, "Oh, I hope not!"


    Powerpaw thinks about Bren's plan and nods eagerly to Bren. Then he looks to Bria who silently shares the expression.


    Vardadraug steps forward. Aye! I would also know what these great fiends do in the Evergreen. He then looks to Wolf for his response.


 
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Luna nods in agreement. "If we catch up to them, we'll deal with that when it happens. Until then, we should keep our eyes open for other threats. It never hurts to be prepared."
 
Wolf nods at Vardadraug and then passes a glance towards Bren. "Aye." he replies. "I'm up for a hunt. Especially now when my senses have never been sharper."


The ranger seems ready already.
 



  • Well that was.... not what I was expecting. But it works. I guess.


    Otiorin nodded in response to her question, "Yes, yes I am. And if in totally honest, I'm not brave at all. I'm a coward who prefers to attack someone from behind or preferably while they are asleep. I'm not heroic, I'm vindictive and I held a grudge about Gerran's put-downs, I'm lazier than anyone I've ever known, and I chose a profession that focuses on taking things that belong to other people. And I don't even do it out of a desperate need to survive, I do it for profit and enjoyment. Im not an honourable man, I just didn't want to end up in a fight with more of the Painless with you out of action. I'm not a good person, I just hang around with good people because they offer me the best protection from the authorities. After all, if I am in a group with the ex-leader of the Light in the Dark, a town's reeve is not going to pay as much attention to a criminal like me than he would if I were traveling with The Black Hand."


    He felt the ache in his heart lessen as he spun out the list of his negative attributes.


    I need to do this, I have to do this. For Bria's sake, I have to cut any ties between us that could lead to anything like a romance. She's too good for the likes of me, I'd sooner or later spoil that wonderful innocence she carries with her, that purity and positivity doesn't deserve to be soiled by me and for all the joy I'd feel if she and I had become a couple, I'd regret that one day, I might come between her and her people. I'm not a good person, and she deserves better.


    He sighed, as if unburdened and sipped at his cocoa again, hiding his face to prevent her perceptive eyes from reading any untruth in his expression.
 



  • Stewart takes off his cap and smooths back what hair he has remaining. "Master Sarabina," he calls, "I will slow the wagons to a walk while you scout out ahead, if that pleases you?"


    Wolf, Otoirin, Bren, and Vardadraug make their way from the wagons and up the Road of Kings, mindful not to enter any of the deep, caution-worthy footprints left by the two Formorians.


    Sabrefang and Bria perform their individual holy signs. The motherly Felane waves. "Bast and Mielikki guide you all!"


    Powerpaw chuckles and thumps his maul into his paw. "Yah! I hopes dey guide youse inta some face-smackin', moar-makin' funs!"





    In that very moment, here comes Whittle from the Forge Wagon wearing a concerned expression. "What's all this talkin' about Mielikki an' runnin' off after... Oh!" The forest-eyed hobbit staggers in surprise when she notes the terrible trail left by the Formorian giants. She points after the tracking party. "An' they're goin' after them instead of away like people with good sense? Blessed be, I would never, ever make a good adventurer!"


 
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"Wait a sec, Mom-Paw, I have something for ya..." Bronze rushes up with a box, and two well sheathed items.


After coming to a stop Bronze hands "Mom-Paw" the box first, "I think you might need this." In the Box is a fantastic set of perfectly fitted leather armor.


After handing that over, Bronze then hands over the two sheathed items, one being the dagger, the other being the scimitar.


"There is more, but I'm still working on those. Just don't break em ok?"
 



  • Mamapaw gasps softly like a small child at some birthday party. It has taken some convincing on Powerpaw's part to convince her that her son's new friends are indeed going out of their way to equip her with quality items for her protection. Now, as Bronze presents her these newly-made gifts, it has the immediate effect of taking her mind off of her worries.


    She hesitates. Powerpaw nudges her with a meow. Mamapaw nods and gives him a smile.


    Her expression becomes bright like the dawn as she pulls forth Bronze's latest creations. "Oohhhhh! Look at this! Armor made out of the Craven's fiery hide! And steel to go with it!" With an excited glance to everyone, she begs of you your pardons as she rushes off of the wagon roof to vanish inside the wagon proper. Minutes later, she returns, her head and tail high.

    gw111.jpg



    "Oh, Bronze! You honor me!" She opens up her arms to hug him, then pauses to see if he is accepting. "I will maintain them well!"


    With this, she returns Bria her own Glamered armor with a hug and a purr. "And you! You are wonderful too!"


    Bria can only giggle in reply and wink proudly at Bronze. The Ko monk's expression is easy to read - it says, "You did great!"
 
Luna agrees whole-heartedly with the Bria's assessment. To help show her feelings for the smithy, she goes a gives the man a big hug and a peck on the cheek. "You have done well, good sir. Men like you are a credit to your gender." Turning to Mamapaw, she nods. "If I were looking for trouble, I certainly know that I have found it by the sight of you! Quite fierce! And it looks like it is all perfectly fitted to you. I'm impressed!"
 
Upon discovery and brief examination of the new set of prints Wolf's face takes on a grim expression. He had knelt down to study the tracks but now he was back on his feet and cautiously looking about. "Stay sharp." he warned his companions. "Things just got a lot more complicated."


The ranger took a dozen steps off the road towards the forest and paused there, thoughtfully gazing into the green depth.
 
  • Bren glances over at Wolf, then back to the new tracks. "How so?" He inspects them again himself, just in case there's something to add to what he hopes his fellow ranger is about to explain.
 
Otiorin, having nothing to add to the discussion except excess noise, remained quiet. Instead, he withdrew his bow from his shoulder and removed the lid from his quiver. His eyes did not stop moving and his head was constantly turning, taking in all directions. He felt horribly exposed, here on the roadside, and wanted very much to seek cover in the forest. He forced himself to calm, focussing on his comrades' words, while watching their flanks attentively.
 
"Those tracks are a dire wolf's." Wolf replied without facing the others. His eyes kept scouring the treeline as if the mere mention might summon the beast. "And one that I have... history... with. From back home. Back from Dalsus. That was a long time ago." he said thoughtfully. "I wonder if he still remembers me."
 
Tracking Wanderers - Bren quickly surmises that these are the biggest, healthiest warg tracks he has ever had the displeasure of experiencing. The pentagram-mark inside the paw-print is definitely unique, like a scar (as opposed to a brand or something similar). Unfortunately, these tracks are just light and sparse enough to lose the Sarabina adventurer unless he calls upon other skills. In moments, the tracking Wanderers find themselves facing a deep, broken path of trees where the Formorians traveled.


Vardadraug growls something mean. We have a decision to make - do we follow, turn back, or act otherwise?




Bren and Leonard are allowed Survival rolls to attempt to track the Dire Wolf of Dalsus if they choose. If so, add half your character's Ranger levels (round down) to your roll. Otiorin is allowed a Perception roll, not to track (as that's a Feat), but to see the paw-prints well-enough to know them in the future. However, should he fail, either Ranger can show the details to him.


Vardadraug may also make a Tracking roll (as he has the Feat). Given his nature, he will not do so unless one of you suggest it (or unless you begin tracking).


But... and most-importantly, what is it you decide to do? The Adventurers' Wagon is about 300 meters south of you moving at a horse-walk and the clouds above you are not getting any lighter.
 
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