Difference between pages "Setting out from Treborg" and "Something Lurks"

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== Leaving ==
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When last we left our heroes, Pandred had tossed his light into the hold with the webbing, slammed the door and had called out for another torch from Oddsdrakken, outside the holdWhile the halfling fumbles around trying to find something to light a torch with, what does the rest of the party do?
'''The DM:''' A storm drifted past on to the east on the 27th of May, but Treborg received only a scant rainfall from itHowever, through the night, a new storm formed in the mountains a hundred miles to the east, where you can just see the edges of it.  At 6 a.m. on the 28th, you are getting spattering rain from gentle squalls brought by a southwestly wind, not more than a light breeze.  The sky is full of mixed darkened clouds, with small blue patches.  There's no certainty if it will just blow over or will close up and begin to seriously rain.  Are you ready to get started or do you want to see?  What sort of rain gear do you have?
 
  
:'''[[Pandred]]''': I've got my heavy coat, but I doubt the rest of us, particularly the hirelings, have anything to protect them. I think we have little choice but to wait this out.
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'''[[Vafrandir]]:''' I crawl back out of the the hallway and recommend [[Pandred]] do the same. "I don't want to be stuck in a crawl-space if whatever's in there comes out fast."
:: '''[[Embla Strand]]''' : I've a cloak, high hard boots, and a bearskin coat. That said, we'll make poor progress if it does start to rain. Let's wait.
 
:'''The DM:''' Being that you're from Norway, or at least have spent time here, you know that you're going to spend some time in the rain, no matter how long you wait.  Fjall, Willa and Oddsdrakken will all have waxed cloaks designed to be tolerable if it rains.  You may want to take a tent with you (I'll let you retcon the purchase of one, since you know what Norway is like and would have thought of it).
 
  
'''The DM''': By 9 a.m., you're still getting spattering rain, but the easterly storm has swung around and moved north, out of sight beyond the mountains.  The wind has died away, to a "light air," just barely detectable.  The sky is open on the west, overcast on the east; with bits of rain coming from its cloudy edge.  The temperature is cool and comfortable.
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'''The DM:''' As you say that, something slams into Pandred's door with a hard bump.
  
'''[[Vafrandir]]:''' I deduct 2 lb per person for food for the 3 days. 2 more days of heavy rations will be 7×6×2 = 84 lb, which is just about how much we have left. We will need to forage to supplement our stock. We have plenty of tents, I've loaded 7 on the cart. I don't have a bearskin cloak (I have wool, but that's no fun in the rain).
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[OOC-MC: ''hello everyone thank you for understanding my absence'']
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: [OOC-DM: ''Welcome back!'']
  
'''[[Pandred]]''': Since we dodged the storm, let's go for it. I just didn't want a downpour to hit us in the mountains and complicate the terrain.
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'''Marcule''': Standing next to Oddsdrakken; I hear Pandred shout for a torch. I head towards the shouting.
  
'''[[Vafrandir]]:''' I agree.
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'''The DM:''' You stumble across Vafrandir coming out of a sideways-laying hall as you enter the cargo hold.
  
'''The DM:''' Actually, wool is ''excellent'' in the rain.  Unlike modern wool clothing, 17th century wool was still greasy, almost deliberately so; in wet weather, it did not accumulate water, but dripped water; and kept you warm, as the rain does not affect the air pockets of the garment. We've destroyed the natural value of wool in wet weather by fastidiously cleaning it.
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'''[[Vafrandir]]:''' "There's something in that room, and it's not happy. We saw webbing so I'm guessing spiders or similar nastiness."
  
== Setting Off ==
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: '''Marcule:''' "Oh Fantastic, do we have a plan... i hesitate to solve this problem with more fire"
'''The DM:''' For the first hour, you merely make your way to the crossroads and then northeastward through oat and hay fields, the former having just been planted and being nothing more than furrowed black earth.  The mountains ahead are shrouded in light clouds, and soon you begin to wend your way between them.  About noon, the cool temperature and the light airy wind have not changed; the rain has died away and the sky has turned blue, with a few puffy white cumulus clouds. You pass a shed used for stacking wood and there the road ends; but you find a wide animal trail, which you follow, climbing about a hundred feet every twenty minutes. All around you is bare rock, small pools of water and the occasional half-mile across lake. Are you ambling along or moving at a normal pace?
 
: '''[[Embla Strand]]''' Let's head at a normal pace.
 
:: '''The DM:''' I'm unhappy with my trail speed, now that I'm beginning to apply it, so let's say you're moving at a mile every two hours.  You're climbing a 10° slope, so that by 2 in the afternoon, you've climbed about 600 feet.  Here, you find yourself on a ridge, looking east; there is a wide U-shaped valley leading off to the north, and a narrower choked valley that climbs rather sharply, about 30°, that's east by southeast.
 
::: '''[[Embla Strand]]''' I vote we head to the wider, u-shaped valley.
 
:::: Seconded, assuming that's an option. Are we still on the trail?
 
  
'''The DM:''' The trail is intermittent, but it is becoming less of a concern because there are hardly any trees to be seenAt this point, you're picking the best route over open, bare rock that is fractured and pittedBoth directions are options.
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'''[[Pandred]]''': "HEY! LITTLE HELP?!" I fish for my battleaxe and draw it, bracing against the door.
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: '''The DM:''' The door does not seem to be breaking down, but there is scratching against it.  You do not smell any smoke.
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'''Marcule:''' I rush over to the door holding my hands against it feeling for force "Im going to take the lack of smoke as a bad sign, it tells me there is a real risk whatever is behind this door could be Juicier than we expected"
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'''The DM:''' Because Marcule is gnome-sized, I'll allow it; it will take about two rounds for him to reach the point where he can do this ... is there anything you want to do for those two rounds, Pandred?  I'll presume that Marcule makes his intentions clear as he rushes forward, climbs into the hallway/crawlspace and comes up to the door.
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'''[[Pandred]]''': As long as my battleaxe is in hand I don't think so. I'd rather wait for the party to assemble than check on this by myself in this circumstance.
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'''The DM:''' Okay, Marcule.  By the time you reach the door, the scratching has stopped.  You don't feel any pressure.  There still is no hint that a fire has started from the torch.
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'''[[Pandred]]''': I'd like for at least Odds and Vafrandir to come back before we crack this thing open again. I tossed mine in so when we open this again we might be able to see something. I get blinded by sudden light changes, and without (or even with) this might count. It's probably just some animal that's found it's way in, but I think we all know it could be something more sinister.
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'''Marcule:''' removing my hands from the door "fine" (nevously) "we wait" i dig threw my bag for a flask of oil to move to my belt.
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'''The DM:''' You waitNothing substantially changes from what you already knew.
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'''[[Vafrandir]]:''' I'll go to where Odds can hear me. "Have you got that torch lit? I've got a tinderbox you can use in my pack. Hurry in!" I'll point him to my pack on the ground near the hole we climbed in. Then I'll head back into the hallway. "Push it in, Pandred, let's see what's in store!"
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'''The DM:''' One moment at a time.  When you get outside, Vafrandir, you don't see Oddsdrakken.  There's his pack, there's the torch laying on the ground and a tinderbox next to it.  You're sorting this out in your mind for all of about 5/10ths of a second when you hear a sound from your right, hissing at you.  It's Oddsdrakken, laying flat in a divot on the ground, with his face half hidden behind his arms.  "Vafrandir!  Look out!" the halfling says with a terrified grimace.
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'''[[Vafrandir]]:''' "Shit!" I draw my sword and turn to my right. I have no shield.
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'''The DM:''' About 25 feet away, moving very slowly, hardly at all, is a very ... big ... spider.  Covered in brown fur.  About 8 feet wide across its legs and about 5 feet high at the top of its abdomen, with about 18 inches between the body and the ground.  It is facing you but it does not rush forward and attack at this time.  Surprised or not surprised, it gives you a chance to recover.  You feel that if you move anything except maybe your mouth to speak, you'll have to roll initiative.
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'''[[Vafrandir]]:''' Do I see Willa or Fjall?
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'''The DM:''' Not at the moment.  Perhaps they went to see some other part of the ship.
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'''[[Vafrandir]]:''' "Odds, I think this is about to kick off. I'll try to draw it off, please go and warn the others inside the ship." I'll move slowly between Odds and the spider.
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'''The DM:''' Odds will have to make a morale checkIf he hasn't a morale listed, it starts at nine; Pandred should know the morale otherwise.  Please roll 2d6, Pandred or Vafrandir, whomever gets there first.
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'''Marcule:''' I cast chromatic orb
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'''[[Vafrandir]]:''' I roll a '''10'''.
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'''The DM:''' Oddsdrakken finds the courage to skip low across the ground (lower than most!) and dives through the rent into the ship.  The spider pauses, turns minutely towards Oddsdrakken's movement and then shifts to its left like a crab, putting Vafrandir between it and the place where Odds has just disappeared.
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'''The DM:''' The orb is cast Marcule.  Oddsdrakken begins talking very quickly, explaining the situation while sweating profusely with terror.
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'''[[Pandred]]''': "Marcule, I think Vafrandir could use a hand. Good work Odds. Hold this, will you?" I'll have him brace against the door. "Don't jostle it." And start making my way to Vafrandir.
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'''The DM:''' Vafrandir, while you're waiting, a dribble of sweat has fallen off your brow and into your eye, and it stings rather nastily.
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'''Marcule:''' I follow Pandred out of the ship

Revision as of 15:57, 13 October 2020

When last we left our heroes, Pandred had tossed his light into the hold with the webbing, slammed the door and had called out for another torch from Oddsdrakken, outside the hold. While the halfling fumbles around trying to find something to light a torch with, what does the rest of the party do?

Vafrandir: I crawl back out of the the hallway and recommend Pandred do the same. "I don't want to be stuck in a crawl-space if whatever's in there comes out fast."

The DM: As you say that, something slams into Pandred's door with a hard bump.

[OOC-MC: hello everyone thank you for understanding my absence]

[OOC-DM: Welcome back!]

Marcule: Standing next to Oddsdrakken; I hear Pandred shout for a torch. I head towards the shouting.

The DM: You stumble across Vafrandir coming out of a sideways-laying hall as you enter the cargo hold.

Vafrandir: "There's something in that room, and it's not happy. We saw webbing so I'm guessing spiders or similar nastiness."

Marcule: "Oh Fantastic, do we have a plan... i hesitate to solve this problem with more fire"

Pandred: "HEY! LITTLE HELP?!" I fish for my battleaxe and draw it, bracing against the door.

The DM: The door does not seem to be breaking down, but there is scratching against it. You do not smell any smoke.

Marcule: I rush over to the door holding my hands against it feeling for force "Im going to take the lack of smoke as a bad sign, it tells me there is a real risk whatever is behind this door could be Juicier than we expected"

The DM: Because Marcule is gnome-sized, I'll allow it; it will take about two rounds for him to reach the point where he can do this ... is there anything you want to do for those two rounds, Pandred? I'll presume that Marcule makes his intentions clear as he rushes forward, climbs into the hallway/crawlspace and comes up to the door.

Pandred: As long as my battleaxe is in hand I don't think so. I'd rather wait for the party to assemble than check on this by myself in this circumstance.

The DM: Okay, Marcule. By the time you reach the door, the scratching has stopped. You don't feel any pressure. There still is no hint that a fire has started from the torch.

Pandred: I'd like for at least Odds and Vafrandir to come back before we crack this thing open again. I tossed mine in so when we open this again we might be able to see something. I get blinded by sudden light changes, and without (or even with) this might count. It's probably just some animal that's found it's way in, but I think we all know it could be something more sinister.

Marcule: removing my hands from the door "fine" (nevously) "we wait" i dig threw my bag for a flask of oil to move to my belt.

The DM: You wait. Nothing substantially changes from what you already knew.

Vafrandir: I'll go to where Odds can hear me. "Have you got that torch lit? I've got a tinderbox you can use in my pack. Hurry in!" I'll point him to my pack on the ground near the hole we climbed in. Then I'll head back into the hallway. "Push it in, Pandred, let's see what's in store!"

The DM: One moment at a time. When you get outside, Vafrandir, you don't see Oddsdrakken. There's his pack, there's the torch laying on the ground and a tinderbox next to it. You're sorting this out in your mind for all of about 5/10ths of a second when you hear a sound from your right, hissing at you. It's Oddsdrakken, laying flat in a divot on the ground, with his face half hidden behind his arms. "Vafrandir! Look out!" the halfling says with a terrified grimace.

Vafrandir: "Shit!" I draw my sword and turn to my right. I have no shield.

The DM: About 25 feet away, moving very slowly, hardly at all, is a very ... big ... spider. Covered in brown fur. About 8 feet wide across its legs and about 5 feet high at the top of its abdomen, with about 18 inches between the body and the ground. It is facing you but it does not rush forward and attack at this time. Surprised or not surprised, it gives you a chance to recover. You feel that if you move anything except maybe your mouth to speak, you'll have to roll initiative.

Vafrandir: Do I see Willa or Fjall?

The DM: Not at the moment. Perhaps they went to see some other part of the ship.

Vafrandir: "Odds, I think this is about to kick off. I'll try to draw it off, please go and warn the others inside the ship." I'll move slowly between Odds and the spider.

The DM: Odds will have to make a morale check. If he hasn't a morale listed, it starts at nine; Pandred should know the morale otherwise. Please roll 2d6, Pandred or Vafrandir, whomever gets there first.

Marcule: I cast chromatic orb

Vafrandir: I roll a 10.

The DM: Oddsdrakken finds the courage to skip low across the ground (lower than most!) and dives through the rent into the ship. The spider pauses, turns minutely towards Oddsdrakken's movement and then shifts to its left like a crab, putting Vafrandir between it and the place where Odds has just disappeared.

The DM: The orb is cast Marcule. Oddsdrakken begins talking very quickly, explaining the situation while sweating profusely with terror.

Pandred: "Marcule, I think Vafrandir could use a hand. Good work Odds. Hold this, will you?" I'll have him brace against the door. "Don't jostle it." And start making my way to Vafrandir.

The DM: Vafrandir, while you're waiting, a dribble of sweat has fallen off your brow and into your eye, and it stings rather nastily.

Marcule: I follow Pandred out of the ship