A CROWN RETURNED GAMEPLAY THREAD

This is where Gameplay will take place.

Falcon’s Hollow is the end of the line for many of its residents—a final destination in a flight from the law, a haven from crushing debts, a sanctuary from abuse, or a new start free from religious persecution. Yet those who dwell in the town know that it has more than its fair share of problems, and many who come to live here soon realise they simply traded one set of worries for another.

Each of you is drawn to Falcon's Hollow however, while growing up here was a real time of struggle, conflict and discontent, returning here is very personal for each of you and for some of you very close to home, striking at the heart of what makes you, well you.

The place hasn't changed much really though the atmosphere is never far from struggle and conflict. You know that Falcon's Hollow actually deserves better than what its getting. One thing you have noticed is that the distrust amongst the community has grown ten fold and you struggle to find a smile, including yours. Everywhere you look, upside down smiles greet you and sideways glances meet you. Somethings going on and its time to sort it out, especially when its personal. Welcome to Falcon's Hollow, welcome to A Crown Returned.

As you return to the town you grew up in, the unfamiliar becomes again familiar as you walk down the road heading in to Falcon's Hollow. It's almost as you left it with a couple of add ons here and there.

Falcon’s Hollow is a logging town through and through. Most buildings have log walls or are finished with wooden siding, their roofs covered in wooden shingles. The town is rough-looking, but some homes feature lovingly wrought ornamentation that shows their owners’ pride: decorative molding, carved cornices, window mullions, and delicate inlays on furniture. Sawmills and lumberyards are the main evidence of industry. Sawdust invades nearly every home, bed, and meal in the community, like sand in a beach town—but locals claim one gets used to it and mock those who can’t stand the dust. Around Falcon’s Hollow, the forest flourishes, dark and impenetrable, seemingly eager to claim the lives of those who endlessly assault its borders.

Walking around Falcon's Hollow at your pace affords you a fairly good idea of the layout of the town and some of its locations.

MAP OF FALCON'S HOLLOW

The sky over Falcon's Hollow was grim enough to reflect the ever-souring mood of its inhabitants while a large sailboat pulled into the river from its passage all the way from Cheliax, through the Inner Sea. The vessel was no pleasure craft, built rigidly and without ostentation as a transport craft for this or that merchant conglomerate. It creaked and groaned as it navigated the river, its hold laden with goods destined for the High Market.

Soon the hulking mass pulled into the docks, imposing itself by way of its girth like a muscular ruffian shoving their way up to a bar. Any other place with a port like that of Falcon's Hollow would be constantly hustling and bustling most hours of the day, but pickings were slim, and few other vessels inhabited the docks at this moment. It wasn't as if the Hollow had much in the way of fishery or other marine products going on.

Finally, the boat shuddered to a stop, almost enough to shake awake one particular denizen of the boat, lazing on a low crate in the hold. A creak and a punch in the arm from one of the deckhands did the rest, and she cracked her eyes open.

"Wakey-wakey, beefcake." The wrinkled deckhand grinned derisively. "Get up and get to work, ya dog."

"Oh, do I have to?" The lounging woman returned his contempt. "I think you fellas have it pretty well in hand." She was lean, well-defined but lacking some of the strength she had before. Roughly cropped black hair framed the angular features of her olive-skinned face, her cheeks still flecked with coal. She'd be fairly attractive, if not for the bad attitude. Traces of polish remained even now, on her bitten and worn-down nails. Far from the lavish attire she used to wear as one of the champions of Almas' fighting rings, she now only wore a blue tunic of frayed silk and baggy pants accessorized only by a small icon of Irori hanging off a red cord. The whole assembly was an approximation of what Tian martial artists and monks were depicted wearing in sensationalized magazine illustrations.

"If you don't quit playing, there's still time to nail you into a box and heave you overboard." The deckhand scoffed.

"Alright, alright..." Now considerably more motivated, the woman leapt to her feet, hoisted the crate she was sleeping on onto her shoulders, and hauled it above deck, down the gangplank, and onto a wagon bound for the High Market. The familiarity of the air hit her almost immediately; the buildings and other features had changed, but the trees and the sky hadn't. It was almost like she was a kid again, running around and getting into all kinds of trouble. With a grunt, she picked up another crate, aiming to finish her job quick so she could get free and head into town.

Fira, you finish your job relatively quickly as others help freely with the same thought in mind, however, theirs is largely to hit the nearest watering hole.

As you stand at the end of the wharf, you see a dusty pathway that leads off in front of you to the Low Market. There's a slight scent of produce no longer fresh enough for the High Market’s favored customers, heavily salted meats, and other questionable foodstuffs, most of which barely survive their trip to the market.

You have heard from your fellow ship mates that there are now weapons, armor, and adventuring gear can be found for sale there, though only weapons and adventuring gear worth 1 gp or less or armor worth 4 gp or less can be purchased at the Low Market.

Jayne, as you arrive at the nearest tavern, The Sitting Duck or 'The Duck' as it is known, you see on the front wooden panel just to the left of the door to The Sitting Duck tavern, a note attached to the panel. It reads ...



The Duck has long been the local hot spot for adventurers, explorers, and other rapscallions looking for excitement. The tavern serves a potent brew of fermented darkwood leaf that’s said to be able to "floor an ogre" in a few tankards.

As you walk into the tavern, As you have arrived in the morning, there are only a handful of patrons. One table is filled with what looks like four mercenary guards just come off a merchant caravan. They look tired, dusty and thirsty.

As you approach the bar and see a human female serving behind the bar. She finishes serving one customer who returns to a table by himself. She turns her attention to you with watchful eyes and says, "Whats. your poison and what will your little lady friend have?" Referring to a Gnome standing next door to you.

Before much of a digression could happen, however, the morning mumbling was interrupted by the doors to the tavern being shoved open by the athletic woman who had just finished hauling crates down at the docks. Much energy had already been spent this morning, and while the spirit was ablaze the body could be doing better.

Which meant this was a perfect chance to try and replenish some of that energy. "Woo! Whose ass do I have to kick to get something good to eat around here? Barkeep!" Fira slammed a gold piece down on the bar counter. "Get me something good to chew on and as much of the darkwood as this'll cover!"

The bartender reaches out to shake your hand Jayne however your hand is quickly ignored when the bartender hears the booming voice of the athletic woman and as she sees the gold piece on the bar. She rushes over to serve the woman instead.

She takes the slammed gold piece first and says, "Right away, my lady!"

With that she pours a large pint of Darkwood Leaf and presents it to her with handle facing this new rich customer and takes off into the kitchen where the smell of freshly cooked pies drifts out and tickles you under the chin. It has the desired effect as your tummy rumbles in anticipation. However, its for the lady instead. Two large pies and pieces of sop bread swathed in butter are presented to the lady on a large serving platter.

She then returns to the kitchen and brings out two trays of pies. One with four pies, and one with one pie. She delivers these to the four mercenary customers and the one sitting alone. She then returns to the bar, fetches two tankards of ale, sets them down before Jayne, reaches out her hand and says to Jayne, "Hello and welcome stranger! I'm Jalene!"

This has all been done so quickly, you would swear the bartender had wings and flew about the place. It would seem that the colour gold brightens everybody's day. Its the type of colour not often seen in this town unless its heading out of the town.

Example:
STR 18 = +4 STR
WIS 8 = -1 WIS

Any food ordered is brought to you in good order and in a timely fashion. For someone working on her own, Jalene works quickly and tirelessly. You have noticed that she is attentive to detail and also watchful of all patrons, customers, comings and goings inside the tavern. The food is actually not too bad at all. It has certainly improved since you were here. You figure that maybe they are under new management or something as even the tables, floor, ceiling and chattels are all kept well cleaned. Service is quick and efficient, if a little 'watched'.

After half an hour or so, a quite muscular female walks in and takes over the bartending while Jalene moves to the kitchen to prepare for lunch and dinner service. It would appear that things are different as the 'Ferret', Larden Kried, is no longer around. This walk in barlady seems to act like she owns the place and begins to take orders from patrons and give orders to Jalene. The clatter of dishes, sounds of chopping and the smell of produce being prepared enters the tavern alongside the earlier prepared tasty pies being cooked as another batch for customers.

You notice that you are also being watched by the new lady bartender, however she doesn't really try to hide it.

Fira picks up on Jalene's odd behavior, but thinks little of it. Anxious, surly, and resentful? Anyone would be acting like that if they had to work in a place like this! Instead, she chooses to indulge in what she asked for, the early food (and the far too early drink) giving a welcome replenishment of fuel. She takes a big bite of the pie and a gulp of the drink (which isn't nearly enough to finish it). The burning hits her as she imbibes, but she powers through; she's endured worse in the ring and in prison.

She barely notices as the more muscular lady enters and takes her position, and instead turns around, leaning back on the bar, keeping herself clearly in the view of Rhaemy and Jayne as she scans the room with her watering eyes.

The woman bartender responds, "No. But I always take a keen interest in all who visit Falcon's Hollow and I'm thankful for the business. So, where are you from and what brings you to our humble little town? Is it business, pleasure or personal? I may be able to help."

As for Fira, she grins widely and raises a mug to Trenton as she makes eye contact with him, taking a bite out of her bread with her other hand. "Hey there! You look like you've had your roots here long enough. Know anyone looking for work around here? If you tell me you can have this..." With that, she wiggles the mug of darkwood leaf for emphasis.

The woman bartender responds to Jayne, "Well, there hasn't been much going on here lately but I will keep you in mind should something come up."

"Yeah, you don't look like you've stayed here too long." Fira grinned at Trent, slipping the mug over to him. "You don't have the grime and stink of this place around you." Grime and stink she'd grown all too familiar with; you could move away from the Darkmoon Wood, but a part of it always stayed with you. "Hey, maybe I'll settle down, put my nose to the grindstone, and get to work at the cutyard. I keep thinking I have too many limbs left, anyway." She raised one muscular arm, flexing it for emphasis. "It shouldn't be too hard to land a spot, I heard there's a scary beast lurking around, taking people's heads off..." She felt like a child again, telling scary stories to intimidate the other kids (or more likely, acting the part herself). "Guess those slackers finally had enough, making up any damn excuse to get outta work."

It is now heading towards noon on your first day in Falcon's Hollow.

The sun is shining in through the tavern windows which have now been opened to let the fresh air roll through. However, it is having the 'real' desired effect as the smell of the freshly baked pies fills the room and wafts and into the street. Locals begin to come in at regular intervals to buy the pies that seem to be almost flying out the door. It is not long before the bartender, whose name you have now discovered to be Ergin, heads out and posts a worn out parchment notice on the noticeboard on the opposite side of the entrance door to the Darkwood Leaf sign that reads Pies Sold Out.

As she walks back in and wipes down the bar with a clean cloth, a leather hooded man enters through the door carrying a dark brown, worn leather satchel. He places it on the bar and talks to Ergin in a quiet whisper. She laughs a little bit, takes the satchel given to her and stows it under the bar. She then reaches over further, under the bar and hands over a similar satchel to the man and tosses him a pie. He smiles at her and turns to head back out the door.

Ergin turns to Rhaemy and says, "That'll be one silver to you my friend."

The man continues out the door. walks over to his horse, mounts and begins to ride down the street towards Roots and Remedies.

The brown leather satchel is slung over his left shoulder as he rides slowly. He does not look around and seems somewhat comfortable in his surroundings.

There is a longbow attached to the rear of the horse and a longsword in its scabbard is wrapped around his bedroll. There are twin saddlebags on the rear of the horse. One seems fuller than the other.

You all see this as he passes by the large, now open windows of the tavern. They would have been closed, shuttered and locked up a few days ago when the heavy rain showers pelted the countryside on your way to the town. The last few days of making your way here was wet to say the least. However, the shining, warm sun is a most welcome relief and the blue of the skys lifts the spirits and warms the heart.

"Um .. it depends on whether you say my name right or not and also what it is that you are delivering." Ergin laughs a little at the somewhat awkward moment.

He's the delivery guy around here. Sometimes he does some work for the businesses in and around Falcon's Hollow. Other times he is working for 'others'. Now, before you ask, I don't know who the 'others' are and nor is it any of my business. As long as he delivers my things in a timely manner, he is ok with me."

Ergin moves away further down the bar to serve a customer.

Ergin asks Rhaemy, "May I ask the nature of your personal business, again I may be able to help?"

Ergin turns to Rhaemy and says, "Don't you mean the Temple of Iomeade? That Lady Cirthana Gensar, always trying to convert someone. She tried to convert me but, I'm just not into it."

Fira, for her part, leans on the bar, raising her eyebrow in amusement. "The temple of Iomedae? That's still here?" She scoffs. "And what have Lady Gensar and Iomedae's oh-so-brave crusaders done to help this place lately? I hear there's something prowling the woods, snatching people..."

Ergin turns to Sapphira and says, "Yes! Despite anemic competition from other faiths and a demonstrated care for the town's residents, the Lady Gensar continues to struggle to win converts in our beleagured town. She definitely requests assistance from others in her quest to help the 'endangered' souls of Falcon's Hollow. She does look after the hardworking souls of Falcon's Hollow though."

Ergin serves another customer. An old man in farmers dungarees, soiled from a days hard work. Ergin turns back around to the bar and puts away a few mugs before returning back to Rhaemy.

She says to Rhaemy, "Do you know where the Temple of Iomedae is?"

Ergin says to Rhaemy, "That's the one! Um ... can I get you another drink?"

In response to that, Fira rolled her eyes briefly before catching herself; that wasn't quite the impression she wanted to give off just yet. Instead, she jabbed her finger subtly at Ergin, giving her a snide smile. "You know what that sounds like? Sounds like you're giving me a sales pitch. How much do they pay you to talk like that to visitors? Can't be enough."

As Rhaemy acknowledged her intent to visit the temple, Fira slouched alongside the bar a bit. "Heading up to that dusty place? Think I'll come along too, see it with my own eyes. That cool with you?" She waved her hand a little, chuckling. "Nah...it's cool. You'll barely notice me!"

Ergin doesn't see Fira's eyes roll briefly however, she does hear the verbal jab. She smiles at Fira and says, "If there is anything else I can help you with, just let me know. Farewell!"

Ergin responds to Trenton with one hand on her hip, "I am not sure what she is after this time. In the past she has sort all sorts of help for all sorts of reasons, some only known to her. But I wish you well in your endavours and thank you for your business. Come back any time!"

You exit The Sitting Duck, turn left down a main pathway and then turn right into the intersecting pathway. You pass by some buildings, some more lookedd after than others. It is not long before you come to a t-crossing. You take the left path and continue on to a four way crossroads. You turn right and find The Temple of Iomeade.

Fira notices, yes, but she doesn't care. Not just yet. Resting her hands on the back of her head, she remains nonchalant as she leads in front of Rhaemy, looking nonchalant as she heads towards the temple in order to nose around before checking out the cutyard.

It is not long before you reach the Temple of Iomeade.

You come across the Lady Cirthana Gensar, a female human cleric and only occupant of the Temple of Iomeade at Falcon's Hollow. As you reach the steps that lead inside the Temple, you see her sweeping the steps with an old broom. She looks up smiling warmly at you as you approach,

Greetings travellers. Its a fine day for sweeping the steps to our fine temple. she says with a nod towards you all.

You see that she is dressed in the robes of a cleric who has decided its a good day to get the place looking nice again. On both sides leading in are small, freshly tended gardens of colourful flowers that despite the drab look of Falcon's Hollow, bring a small sense of vibrancy to an otherwise ramshackle town.

"Thats great to hear. Thank you! she says and gives Jayne a broom and picks up another. "Many hands and many skills make light work."

After another five minutes of sweeping, the job is done. She invites you in for a refreshment. You head in to the Temple and sit down at a table off to the side as the cleric pours you all a glass of cool water.

She looks at you all and says, "You know I have a larger problem that maybe you could help me with. Its no secret that Falcon’s Hollow is a rough and-tumble town, and it isn’t unusual for locals to simply vanish. Many of these disappearances are simply citizens who left town to seek their fortunes elsewhere maybe much like yourselves, but some, unfortunately, are victims of criminals or dangerous creatures from the nearby woods.

Since these disappearances aren’t noteworthy, no one took much of an interest when a local hunter named Barlus Chortun went missing—except me. The real reason is that Barlus, a worshipper of Erastil, came to this Temple to seek blessings from me for his upcoming hunt. I think that at the time, I may have been the closest he had in town to a like-minded soul. He then left and just vanished into Darkmoon Vale. I now feel a bit guilty about perhaps giving him false comfort in a pursuit that isn’t a core part of our faith.

I have approached Lumber Consortium agents in the lumber camp at the edge of the woods for aid in tracking poor Barlus down, but they’ve been very unhelpful. I don’t suspect they’re responsible for Barlus vanishing, only that they don’t really see it as their problem. Barlus told me that he was going to use one of the lumber camps as a staging ground for his hunt, so I think it would put my mind at ease if you could search for him by starting there.

As you can imagine, this has weighed heavily on me and I have been thinking a lot about it and just maybe the workers will be more open to speaking to someone they don’t recognise as I am a bit critical of their employer. I don't think they care about this town, nor the people in it who work so hard for them and care about this community.

All I have to offer is a silver longsword as a reward if you can provide closure on the mystery or, even better, find him and bring him back home alive. It would put my mind at ease as I have been atoning and praying daily. Are you able to help?" she says as she opens her hands.

"No, he never let me know what he was hunting. I just thought that he was trying to provide for his family or something." says the cleric.

"Well, whatever it was, maybe it turned the tables on him." Fira seems a little deflated at the notion. The longsword does not necessarily appeal to her, nor the notion of needing to play detective. Still, the mystery has her piqued. "But we'll go look. I don't want to get jumped out of nowhere any more than anyone else does..."

With the story provided by Lady Gensar still running through your mind, you all head out towards the Cutyard first figuring that there may be some further clues there.

The Cutyard is a building situated beside the river with a wharf for docking, loading and unloading attached.

Spewing sawdust into the foam around the clock, the Cutyard is the ever-pumping heart of Falcon’s Hollow. Lumber crews work the yard under horrific conditions. Night shifts operate waterwheel-powered saws and grinding lathes with only a single dim lantern to light their dangerous toil. Maiming and accidental deaths frequently occur.

Far more insidious than the threat of physical injury is the crushing effect of unending labor and monotony on the workers’ psyches. Most of the lumber crew live in cramped shacks surrounding the Cutyard, plagued by the sounds of saws and axes even when they aren’t working.

As you arrive at the Cutyard you see a pug-faced, mash-nosed man, "Payday" Teedum as he is known around the place seemed to have earned his nickname from the way he doles out violent "dues" to anyone who fails to follow his commands fast enough.

Listening in on various hushed conversations as you walked to the Cutyard and making some observations yourselves, the loggers of Falcon’s Hollow are no strangers to forest beasts and monsters, and their tall tales of dangerous woodland denizens are a popular form of entertainment after work around campfires or at bars.

Lately though, a new rumor about a particularly large, vicious, and cunning gray wolf has been making the rounds, with loggers claiming the wolf has been laying traps for them. Several claim to have been wounded in these traps, and a few imply that several (or perhaps all) of the loggers who have supposedly left the job and moved south were in fact captured and eaten by this wolf.

Normally, the Boss Teedum ignores these rumors, but this latest one seems to be gathering steam quickly, and everyone suspects there’s truth behind the tales. Maybe a chat with this greatly 'respected' Boss may yield some further information.

As with the visit to the temple of Iomedae, Fira takes point somewhat on the way to the cutyard, sauntering up to the grounds. The constant, oppressive sounds of labor vary in pitch and volume, but are never completely escapable. Damn, they've been here not five minutes and Fira knows why the staff can't stand to be here long.

Noticing Teedum's presence, she pegs him as the kind of guy who occupies the position others call "boss" or at least acts like he does. Sauntering over to him, she makes a show of craning her neck, as if she's trying to look for someone else over him. "Hey chum, think you could point us to your boss? We were planning to ask them about the terribly few people they have around, see if they planned on doing something about that."

Boss Teedum turns to Sapphire and says, "I run the Cutyard here so you are speaking to the Boss. What can I do for you?

"Oh?" As much as she failed to get a rise out of him (momentarily), she continued on, looking down as if noticing his presence for the first time. "Didn't notice you there. But yes...we're here to look into your so-called wolf problem. Anything you can tell us about that?"

He turns to Sapphira and smiles. "Normally, I ignore these rumors about creatures and such as we come across so many of them as we work, but this latest one is gathering steam quickly, and I suspect that there’s truth behind the tales. I'm concerned about the impacts these rumours have on our workers safety and security. We are behind on some orders already and the 'wolf' is just another disruption to us fulfilling the orders of our clients and customers.. Could you look into this rumour and hunt for this gray-pelted "smart wolf" in Darkmoon Vale, kill it, and bring it back to Falcon’s Hollow for me to stuffas a trophy and of course to also put our workers’ minds at ease.

Maybe you could interview workers at the lumber camps to learn where the gray wolf has been spotted most frequently. I'm prepared to reward you with a magical greataxe if you succeed."

Fira scoffs at the offer, shooting Teedum a pointed glance. "There isn't something wrong with that axe, is there? Looks like you folk got really into handing out weapons while I was gone. Maybe I'll come back with a gift or two other than the wolf's head. Anything else you'd like us to check out before we go?"

The Boss turns to Sapphira and says, "There's nothing wrong with the axe and there's nothing else we want checked out, just the wolf story."

He turns to Jayne and says, "We are in the process of updating our Safety Manual which will ensure a better, smoother and safer operation for all concerned."

"Well, that makes it alright then." Fira grins, the sarcasm evident in her voice as she turns to head to the nearest adjacent lumber camp to start sniffing for clues. She pauses a moment to address Jayne and Rhaemy. "Anything else you guys wanted to take care of or shall we go bag ourselves a wolf for Mr. Model Manager here?"

"By the way," he says turning and gesturing towards a human leaning on one of the buildings, watching the operation of the crews as they work, "that geezer was asking about the same thing as you. Maybe you should talk to him."

"Top o' the morning to ya." The scruffy, casually-dressed woman tips an invisible hat to the gentleman, pointedly pressing the ball of her foot in the dirt to step firmly past him. "If I knew we'd be dressed up I'd have brought one of my gowns. For my part, I'm just making sure our target won't come back to gank me in the future. Don't want any of that if I'm gonna stay here."

On your way in you noticed that there are three paths out of Falcon's Hollow. There is a pathway to the West that leads to one of the Lumber Camps, there is another pathway to the Northwest that follows a pathway through the cemetery and out the other side that leads to another Lumber Camp or there is a pathway to the Northeast that heads to another Lumber Camp. It is entirely up to you which path you take. Asking the 'Boss' receives a lukewarm response as all pathways lead to one of the Lumber Camps. He has no idea, just that the wolf is showing up at one of the Lumber Camps, he just doesn't know which one.

The Boss looks at Trenton as though he is from another planet. "The lumber yard is where lumber yard workers work, the lumber camps are where the loggers work. Its the loggers that have sent in reports and rumours have circulated as a result. As I said, you will need to interview the workers at the lumber camps."

You head Westwards along the path. It is not long before the path begins to widen and a wide natural and well-travelled road begins to amble along as you move into the Darkmoon Vale area. After a decent days walk you see in the distance a Lumber zConsortium camp located on the southern edge of the Dark Moon Vale woods. It seems to cut an ugly scar of stumps into the dense stands of the forest's prized darkwood trees.

Coming closer to the camp, you see five, sturdy log buildings stand out - a bunkhouse, a meal hall, an office, a stable, and a tool shop with numerous outhouses, wide carts, sleds, and stacks of unprocessed lumber amid the sawdust-speckled clearings. The camp appears as callous and unrelenting as the folk who work them.

Moving closer, you come across a band of about 20 or so surly woodcutters. They look up and one of them shouts and points in your direction. They shout out insults at you, veiled threats and generally treat you with derision.

One of them shouts, "WHY ARE YOU HERE AND WHAT DO YOU WANT? SPEAK NOW OR BE ON YOUR WAY!"

The shout back in response is almost overwhelming, "NOOOOO! It's ok little one! Follow me and I will take you to the Supervisor! A large overweight man steps forward wearing a red flannelette shirt and takes you through the lumber piles, past the meal hall to the office.

"There you go! he says and lumbers back to the other side of the lumber piles to work with his buddies.

As you walk in the office, you see a middle aged surly, grizzled slab of a man with red hair and a shaggy red beard wearing work boots, canvas pants and a long hooded bush shirt. He seems to be looking over some wood chips. He turns around to see you enter the office and says in a gravelly voice, "What can I do for you? I'm very busy here at the moment."

"What? A beast called Barlus? Never heard of it!" he says with a shake of his head.

"We don't care what you call the beast." Even in this moment Fira finds a way to be annoying. "We mean the one that's got the lot of your workers so on edge. The one that's supposedly mauling them. Somehow, Teedum's gotten it into his head that it looks like...a wolf."

"Hmmphf! OK. I thought you said that the beasts name was Barlus. Ha! I remember that fella. He came here to our camp to use it as his flophouse. I gave him the bums rush and told him to beat it. I let him know that the only way in no uncertain terms that the only people allowed to spend the night at the camp earn their stay with a dawn to dusk session of 'bracing outdoor exercise" - in other words, this camp is for employees only. He argued with me so I told him that he head into the woods to camp at 'old Ulizmila's place' as he would be safer sleeping in the ruins of a notorious local legends home than anywhere here, where 'axes were tipping over for no apparent reason. I don't know if he took my advice or not but he did head into the woods in that direction."

At the mention of the wolf, his entire demeanour changes from gruff and cantankerous to drop-dead serious in a heartbeat. "Oh, ok! So Payday has finally decided to do something about it by finally sending someone to help. Well, better late than never, I guess.

Yes, there have been rumours for a few weeks now and several of my workers have been wounded by traps in the woods or even gone missing; just four days ago I personally saw one of my workers in the woods step into a hidden trench and impale his foot on a wooden spike, only for the biggest, meanest-looking wolf I have ever seen burst from the bushes, grab my worker by the back of the neck, and race off to the north with its still shrieking prize. I was close to calling for a complete work stoppage as a result. Knowing now that someone is on the job sets my mind at ease, at least my workers will be safe for a while.

I have tracked that wolf for a bit, but when it became obvious the creature was heading in the direction of Droskar’s Crucible, I lost my nerve. I suspect the wolf has been living in the ruins and I suggest that you start your hunt there."

"Droskar's Crucible, of course." Fira grins, clenching her fist in front of her chest. She's surprisingly confident for someone with neither arms nor armor. "We'd better cut that wolf off before more poor, poor woodsfolk get eaten." She pouts, feigning pity.

You decide to head off into the Darkmoon Woods. The forest is a sprawling, trackless forest. At first the trees seem to be thinned out somewhat, partially due to the work of the Lumber Consortium Lumber Camps but also because you are walking through the forest fringes. As you make your way into the forest proper the forest undergrowth and huge trees become a lot denser and movement slows somewhat.

You have been travelling for the best part of a day now. Here, the forest is very dense in some places.

rollin' . . .

Trenton, on that Perception roll of 23, you just happen to glance up while passing under a break in the canopy at just the right time and spot a dark blue shape soaring through the sky above.

The creature is as much as 15 feet long and has a resilient body. Its huge powerful bat like wings sports talons. Its huge aerodynamic thin-horned head bares a snout ending in huge sharp teeth. Its flexible body easily carries the bat like wings. Its two powerful legs end in nasty looking talons.

Its whip like tail balances its flight perfectly and also end in two sharp talons.

The winged Wyvern doesn’t notice you and continues to fly north towards Droskar’s Crag.

"Hm..." Fira is anxious, but does her best not to show it. With all her bravado, she's genuinely convinced she can take on an oversized wolf; in fact, she more or less has in the fighting pits that only opened after midnight, in large basements and the halls of the wealthy and prurient. A wyvern, however, is quite something else.

And so she is quite relieved when Sheon changes the topic back to the more germane parts of their investigation. "Well, once we make it out of here alive, we can go squeeze Barius if his story doesn't add up. Don't worry, if you get caught in a trap I'll protect ya."

Making your way through the Darkwood forest, it seems that you are moving at a snails pace at times and seeing the wyvern flying majestically in its sheer confidence of its power you aren't sure of the nature of its appearance or whether it has revealed a possible fierce adversary to deal with. The brackens and ferns make for a softer walk in some parts too.

It is now becoming darker and you decide to set up camp for the night in a small clearing.

"Great, we're all settled." Fira smiles in satisfaction, noting that she may not miss sleep tonight. And yet she finds herself close to the edge of the perimeter, eyes glinting against the firelight as she peers into the darkness, her vigilance counting as a watch of its own while it lasts.

While staring, she exercises, stretching, turning, leaping and practicing martial arts forms vaguely like those of the Tian peoples.

You all get a full rest as the night is uneventful. You are up early in the morning and ready to continue on your journey. You make your way further into the forest and presently hear running water. Presently you see a wide river that spans some 50' foot wide in some places as you look up and down the river. The banks are heavily forested in places and there are signs of life in the water.

You can either attempt to cross the river, head either upriver where the waters source seems to be coming from or head downriver.

Fira sighs, glancing at Jayne. "It can't be my job to remember, can it? Droskar's Crucible. Big shaggy old wolf and maybe a wyvern. I'm sure one of you knows how to get there. Unless...you can pick up the scent and narrow it down?" That last bit was directed towards Rhaemy.

You decide to follow the river upstream in an effort to find its source and negotiate it in the hope it will be somewhat easier.

As you are trekking along the sides of the river you suddenly have a slight sense of dread as the forest continues to roll out before you.

On that Perception roll of 25, Sapphira, you just manage to see out of the corner of your eye a huge Giant Ball Python, just getting ready to strike. Its red eyes glower in the green of the forest, its huge muscular body coiled like a spring ready to provide it with a lightning fast strike.

Fira's eyes shoot wide open and her mouth clamps shut, stifling a "HOLY SHIT" as she smacks the members of the party nearest to her to get them to turn around. With the others duly warned, she flips forward, landing on her feet in a low stance. She wants so much to run, but she sure as hell isn't saying it until someone else does first.

...Unfortunately, in her panic she lands a bit harder than expected, and falls off balance as a result.

@crazybirdman Did you read this post? You have not seen the snake yet!

The python does not slither or bound; it pours its immense weight forward like a stream. Its movement to the left rear of you, Sapphira, is a slow, eerily quiet drift, completely free of erratic jerks.There is a terrifying majesty in its forward march. Its belly scales lock and release rhythmically, leaving a smooth, faint path and giving the illusion that the ground itself is shifting to usher the beast forward. As it glides, it tastes the air with a dark, forked tongue that flicks out like a spark of magic, reading the unseen currents and vibrations of the world ahead.

With the speed of a striking viper, the serpent’s jaw snaps wide. Rows of needle-like teeth, slick with venomous, paralyzing saliva, strike out to find their mark. The impact of the strike hits like a battering ram, knocking the wind completely from your lungs and shattering the quiet of the wilderness. You are now held in the jaws of the Ball Python.

"Rrrgh!" The snake is fast for something so large, biting and entrapping Fira in its coils. But as long as she is conscious she won't let something like this take her out. She strains and slips, trying to loosen herself and escape.

"Nice try, you slippery bastard!" Furious, Fira growls, stepping into view of Rhaemy and keeping the eyes of the python on her. "You wanna try that again? I'll break your jaw when you do!" She draws herself onto one foot, feinting a sharp kick at its mouth.

The air surrounding the Trenton shimmers. His eyes catch the light, glowing with the pristine color of his deity’s domain. Positive energy emits forth from his upraised hand cast, creating a 5-foot emanation. He then moves backwards behing the cover of a stout tree and begins to sustain the spell and increase its area of effect.

Sapphira twists and manages to escape from the clutches of the coiled Ball Python. Sapphira then overextends her feint in an attempt to distract the python however the python is not fooled by the feint and its red eyes narrow and focus on Sapphira, unhappy that its meal has escaped its hold. She then spins and moves over to stand in front of Rhaemy.

Sheon deftly strikes the Ball Python in neck with his rapier, causing blood to trickle down its neck. It hisses in response and recoils its muscular length.

Jayne didn't swing; she drove. With a sharp, rhythmic exhale, she extended her arm in a perfect line of force. The needle-thin blade of the rapier didn't just cut—it pierced. It found the narrow, soft vulnerability of its upper torso, sinking deep through the fold of sinew and muscle. The snake let out a wet, gargling hiss as the steel bypassed its armored exterior to find its softer inner body. With a flick of his wrist, the duelist twisted the blade and withdrew in a single, fluid motion.

I don't like it any more than you do,but RAW the python has a chance to whop me again now (and Jayne wouldn't get an immediate second turn).

You reset to your original position only if you do not take your delayed action,so as to prevent you from having no written way to return to the initiative order.

The python whips its head around and sizes up the situation. Seeing the sheer number of opponents and already bleeding from only two strikes, it makes the decision to figth another day. It turns and slithers quickly off into the safety of the dense forest.

"Yeah...you better run." Fira snarls, slumping over a little. For all her bravado, she was the only one to bleed in this little altercation. She has fallen so far from the peak of her strength, and it almost cost her life. Nevertheless, she straightens up. "Now, unless wolves are scaly and green, we still have a beast to hunt. Let's get our asses moving."

"I'm still standing, aren't I?" Fira chuckles bitterly. "And that's more than enough to keep you safe. Don't worry, I'll get it looked at once we make it back." With that, she adjusts her clothes a little to obscure the bite.

You bind Sapphira's wound as best you can and continue on into the forest. Stepping again into the ancient, sun-dappled canopy, you immediately feel the atmosphere shift. The heavy air smells of crushed pine needles, damp earth, and a trace of electric magic. This is a journey through a living, breathing realm where twisted, primeval trees stretch their luminescent boughs toward the heavens.

Your boots sink into a soft, spongy carpet of bioluminescent moss and fallen leaves that crackle softly with each step. Navigating the terrain requires careful footing. Gnarled roots, thick as dragon spines, twist across the dirt and demand constant vigilance. Thorny briars and sprawling ferns clutch at your cloak, practically daring you to wander off the faint, twisting game trail.

Above you, the canopy is so thick that the sky is reduced to mere fragments of fractured light. Beams of iridescent gold and twilight blue filter down, illuminating dancing motes of amber dust that drift in the humid air. The ancient, towering trunks—their bark rough and studded with crystalline resin—stand like silent sentinels, watching your progress with an ageless awareness.

The forest is never truly quiet; it operates on a shifting, echoing symphony of sounds. A soft, melodic breeze whispers through the leaves overhead, while distant, haunting calls of unseen, fantastical birds drift through the branches. Just as the rhythm settles, a twig snaps in the dense thicket to your left, followed by the faint rustling of underbrush as a creature retreats into the shadows.

Moving deeper into the embrace of the deep woods, the physical boundaries blur. The temperature drops, replaced by a lingering, cooling mist that weaves through the narrow spaces between the trees. The environment feels both hostile and beautiful—an enchanted labyrinth that conceals hidden depths, ancient lore, and the restless thrill of discovery.

After a time, following the general direction of the river, you find its source, a large lake about a mile wide and three miles long. You head around the side of the lake. In the distance but now on the right side of the river is Droskars Crag, looming in the distance, exuding a sense of foreboding.

After another two miles of easier travelling and heading into mid-afternoon, the sounds of the forest become suddenly more distant as the trees part, opening into a small, almost perfectly circular glade. The nearest stands of pine, fir, and darkwood twist away from the clearing, as if bent by some impossibly strong wind or perhaps in an attempt to turn away from the clearing. At the glade’s centre squats an ugly cottage, little more than a pile of twigs, shoots, and ivy stacked upon mud walls. From the thatched roof dangle bundles of gnarled roots, old animal bones, and knucklebone bangles, all clattering together like gruesome wind chimes. A dozen small thatched fetishes—each shaped like a tiny person, imp, or rearing serpent—stand propped in the yard, keeping guard before a rickety plank door. What appears to be the remains of a recent campsite sit near the northern portion of the clearing.

Rhaemy, while checking out the surrounding area, you see this clearing is roughly 120 feet in diameter, with a dilapidated, circular cottage 15 feet in diameter at its centre. Fourteen unnerving but harmless 3-foot-tall scarecrow-like effigies are propped up throughout the glade.

Looking around the campfire, it’s obvious that a struggle took place here.

On that Perception Roll of 24, Rhaemy, you notice there are numerous small reptilian prints and a larger swath that indicates a human-sized object was dragged away from the camp recently.

Sheon, on that 21 Survival (Tracking) roll, you see tracks from maybe 6-10 reptiles and maybe 1-2 what look like human hand marks alongside the drag marks.

Fira feigns a gasp, putting her hand to her mouth. "Ah...! Isn't that just terrible! I guess old Ulizmila's not coming home any time soon. And we'll have to stomp on some little baby dragons if we keep heading this way..."

Rhaemy, on that Society roll of 14, you are pretty sure they the footprints are of small reptiles of some sort.

As you approach the cottage you see that its moldering door has rotted off its hinges and now leans precariously against its frame, blocking the way within.

Jayne, on that Athletics roll of 15, the door shatters and what remains of it skitters across the floor of the small cottage, its rusted hinges now hanging uselessly from the wood of the door.

Inside, the cottage is dank, reeking, and filled with shadows. Haphazardly hung shelves line the walls, covered in all manner of clay jugs, clouded bottles, strangely cut rocks, rotted bunches of herbs, and a museum of other crude curios and remnants of a bone grinder’s artifice. A rusted iron cauldron, with a hinged lid built to resemble a frog’s jaws and a depth of almost 3 feet, occupies the centre of the hut’s single room, its ash-covered surface shaped with a relief of capering fiends and leering devils. A high-back chair stands against the far walls across the door, made of wicker, the gigantic curved tusks of some monstrous beast, and thousands of humanoid teeth. In the chair sits what looks like a corpse wrapped in filthy burial linens, its form padded with pungent herbs and sprouting patches of thick white mould.

"Phew..." Utterly unfazed by the smell, Fira steps into the house, hands sweeping past the rotting herbs and pausing to peer into the mouth of the cauldron. Straightening up, she scans the other end of the shack, finally noticing..."Ugh...don't suppose that's anyone we care about, is it?"

Sapphira, as you enter the cottage, the mindless cauldron construct lurches to life and attacks, hot smoke billowing out of the now open lid. It "bites" at you by snapping at them with its hinged lid while its inner surfaces swiftly heat up to cook anything small enough it can "gulp" down.

For the second time this excursion,Fira is the first to stumble headlong into danger. As the cauldron snaps at her,she flinches back. "Oh,come on! Can't you leave me alone?!"

"Haaaaaaah...!" Letting out a bellow, Fira flips over the belligerent cauldron, landing smoothly on the other side of it. Swiftly, she brings her leg up, slamming her shin into its side. It's almost like she's back in the pits, hitting poles with her elbows and shins to harden them.

"Huwataaaaaaah!" And then she draws back and shoves the metal pot hard with the heels of both palms.

On those actions, Sapphira, you shove the Cauldron through the door out towards the others, who are all outside of the small cottage. The Cauldron appears undamaged.