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Thread: Dale in the Fourth Age: Session One, "DEWy-eyed novices"

  1. #51
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    "By all that's sweet in the Shire...!" Eli says in wonderment, before he drops his stick, draws his sword and backs steadily away from the bizarre... thing.

  2. #52
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    The swift actions and bold insults of Arewe are nearly as startling as the plant-creature's appearance, and they draw out Rowena's somewhat counter-intuitive protectiveness.

    "Please don't, my lady! We don't know if it's friend or foe, alive or... enchanted." She winces at using the word, but despite her distrust of magic she must allow it as a possibility. "Its--its lack of, er, familiar beauty doesn't make it evil."

    With a swallow, she takes another hesitant step forward, peering at the creature as if trying to discern its intent. "And if this is a living being," she says carefully--and more slowly, because the longer she looks, the more a nugget of knowledge is nagging at the back of her mind. "Surely its life would be no mockery... No more than the Ents of Fan...gorn...."

    Her eyes close fully now and she puts a hand to her head.

    "Wait. I think I remember. From a long time ago, ages... I've learned so much knowledge of nature through so many ballads and sagas, it's sometimes hard to access--"

    The young woman's eyes pop open and stare at the plant. "Oh yes! I know him! It! This plant!" She starts toward Arewe, hands flapping wildly in a gesture to indicate that her comrade should drop her own arm. Her voice bounces as she bounds with surprising nimbleness over to the other woman.

    "Down, please lower your bow! It's called a windwhip--sorry, can't remember what others call them--and while it can be dangerous, it'll likely leave us alone if we don't bother him. It," she corrects herself irritably. Must she imbue everything with personality? That habit makes it bloody difficult to hunt for meat.

    At last she reaches Arewe, breathing hard, and speaks with great conviction to the entire group.

    "Elihu Proudfoot has the right of it. We mustn't engage. In addition to those tendrils, it can spray a defensive, erm, noxious stench. It's pretty awful. I heard tell of a past victim who entered a completely full inn that emptied out in mere seconds. The publican was furious. And bear in mind: this man's attack had been a fortnight prior--multiple baths did nothing!"

    With this warning, Rowena tries to catch her breath and holds her hands behind her back, wanting to avoid any assertive stance. She looks around at the others, hoping they will heed her, however much she probably seems mad.





    OOC: Hooray to our GM for a successful Knowledge roll! Although for nature, not geography/history.

  3. #53
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    "It smells like an abbatoir, Rowena. Art thou sure? And how dost thou propose we proceed?"

    Arewe lowers her bow, but does not slack the bowstring, or replace the arrow in its quiver.

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    Rowena shakes her head, suddenly awkward. While she loves attention when it comes to performing, she's not comfortable giving too much advice to people with the sort of experiences she's only relayed via second-, third- and everything up to twentieth-hand knowledge. And half of the tales were likely exaggeration or outright imaginary anyway.

    "I--I don't know. But maybe Mister Gade does?" Her hopeful gaze turns to the druid.
    Last edited by choie; 30 May 2021 at 10:39 PM. Reason: changed "spotlight" to "attention." I highly doubt there are spotlights in this world.

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    Eli silently backs even further away, watching the thing carefully.

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    Gabe, uses his size to push to the front, temporarily abandoning his role as rear guard to take a look at the creature.

    "It seems much has been remembered but let me see and perhaps I will know more (Knowledge Nature - 6). Either way it seems we may be best to leave the creature to its own devices and pass on our way in search of that bow weilding villain."

    OOC - Gade's working assumption is always that the natural flora and forna have the right of things and that anyone harming them is the villain.... Of course he's been known to be wrong!

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    (Note that you can wrap [ooc]tags[/ooc] around text to do OOC: this . And you can turn the tags off if you know the secret )

    Gade finds nothing in his druidic lore to contradict Rowena's impressive recall - except that he thinks the name is "weedwhip" - and thinks that the creature's demeanour suggests a lack of aggression that should be encouraged. While there are malevolent plant-spirits about the place, this seems not to be one of them.

    OOC: Nemine contradicente, I will happily move the party on.
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  8. #58
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    Tom is impressed with the party.
    They were ready to defend themselves, but also calmly identified an apparent danger.

    Tom makes sure Eli is not going to bump into him and asks politely "Can anyone communicate with this plant? Once we are confident the weedwhip is not going to attack, we can check the body more closely."

    He also thinks to himself "Glad I didn't instantly attack - these adventures are tricky!"

  9. #59
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    (No-one in the party can talk to plants, and the creature seems unable or unwilling to speak in any language at all.)
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    Can we retrieve the body next to the path? It seems wrong to leave it there, whether dead or alive.

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    Rowena agrees with Arewe and refocuses her attention on what she can see of the prone figure on the ground. Suddenly she realizes--shamefully belatedly--that as someone who's spent months in Dale, she might recognize the unfortunate person, if they are from the area.

    It's not a happy thought. Not just because there's a slim chance this is an acquaintance, but also... well, now she's obliged to do something about it. Steering clear of corpses is no longer an option. Not if she's taking the mature, responsible path to prove her mentor wrong about not being ready for such experiences. (Which he never exactly stated, but his leaving without her certainly told the story plainly enough.)

    Besides, if the person is alive, Rowena might be some use after all. She's no healer, but somehow her songs, words and even gentle touches toward someone who's ill or injured have helped them muster their strength.

    "There's a faint possibility I might identify this person, if they are from Dale. I must get a better look," she announces with feigned resolve. And thus she's committed herself: no backing out. Rowena moves forward, locks her gaze on the body and does her best to ignore the plant, which isn't easy.

    If possible, the girl takes a route that avoids approaching the plant directly while keeping her arms at her sides in as non-aggressive a demeanor as possible. And if she reaches the body, she'll smother her own fear to see if she learns anything.




    OOC: Sorry about misremembering the plant name!

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    Tom thinks that Rowena is a brave young woman and calls to her "Rowena, I can cast Detect Magic on the body if you like."
    Meanwhile he makes sure he is ready to cast Magic Missile if anything attacks the Bard.

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    Rowena slowly turns her head--no sudden moves! she thinks, aware of plant's proximity--and nods. "Yes, please, Tom, anything you can do. I'll defer to any of you, whatever you all think best." And by the end of the sentence she's cringing inwardly in self-reproach. It's perfectly obvious she's looking for any last-minute excuse to avoid that body. Her hands start to clench into fists, but she stops in time and relaxes. Calm. Calm. No aggression. We're just passing through, good mister Plant. No fight here.

  14. #64
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    Tom notes Rowena's careful head movement and casts Detect Magic on the body as discreetly as possible.

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    Bruno is mentally prepared to rush forward to help against the plant but makes no other move as of yet.

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    The weedwhip seems not to care one way or the other whether Rowena examines the body, and slowly disappears back into the undergrowth and boggy ground. Tom is unable to detect any magic radiation emanating from the body, but Rowena is able to make out that it is a Man of no more than middle years. While she is no expert healer, the inch-wide puncture wound at the base of the corpse's skull (low down on the left, rather above and to the rear of the jawbone) is not something that most people would have survived. There is a faint yellowish cast to the man's features - not yellow as some of the people of Rhun are said to be, but a more vivid colour like the pollen of some plants.

    Whoever the unfortunate person is, they don't seem to be anyone Rowena has ever met.
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    Rowena had to kneel to get a good look at this poor man's face, and now that she attempts to stand, a swell of nausea threatens her balance--unusual since she's normally pretty nimble. Holding her hands out to steady herself, she gets control and turns to the others.

    "He is dead," she says hoarsely, her voice is too weak to be heard from too far away. After girding herself and taking another deep breath (which also helps her sick stomach), she repeats the announcement more forcefully. She describes the victim and the sinister wound.

    "I suppose if he has pockets or a purse, there might be some inkling of whether he was attacked by thieves, or maybe even where he comes from. But I don't--" Rowena hesitates. She doesn't want to look or touch this unfortunate man. "I think some or all of you are better suited and equipped to examine him and find whatever you can, far more than me."

    Especially since she's near to crying or being sick--probably both, frankly. Rowena tries to hide her reaction while edging away from the corpse.

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    With the weedwhip's departure, Eli ventures closer to Rowena and the body, his sword still in hand. "I will examine the body," he says loudly, "if someone else will please cover me, and shout a warning if any other danger approaches while I attend to the task."

    When he is close enough, he will try to quietly comfort Rowena, saying, "Confronting death is never easy, my lady. It will perforce come to us all, in time; unfortunately for him, it came sooner to this poor fellow than to us. Turn away and think of happier things, I would suggest, and be glad for the sun on your skin and the air in your lungs."

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    Tom responds to Eli's request. "Consider yourself under my protection, fellow Halfling."
    As before, Tom is ready to cast Magic Missile.

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    Eli gives the corpse a quick once-over. It is not the worst he has ever seen but the task is far from enjoyable. There are few clues as to where it came from: a handful of small coins in one pocket, such as a wayfarer might carry to cover expenses at an inn; a long knife in a scabbard; a rather longer scabbard, but with no weapon to go with it; and a backpack containing a typical bedroll and some trail rations, now rather spoiled. The deceased person was wearing a tough leather jerkin similar to those that several members of the party wear.
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    Rowena gives Elihu a wan smile, still ill-at-ease but genuinely appreciative. "Thank you," she says in an undertone. "I know you're right. It's just a sad, ugly way to go." She looks away and changes the subject softly: "'My lady.' That's pretty to hear. The company I find myself with don't exactly..."

    A shrug and a lighter tone finishes her remark: "Anyway, 'Rowena' does well enough for me."

    Falling respectfully silent, she steps back to be out of his way while he makes the expert examination of the man's possessions and clothes. She watches the scout's unpleasant task and is impressed with his skill. Pickpockets she's met in inns or along her travels would envy such work.

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    Hmm. It appears the unfortunate fellow lost his sword. Can Eli tell how long the man has likely been dead, given recent weather and the condition of the body? Is there nothing among his few possessions bearing his name? Is his clothing indicative of any particular origin, and were the handful of small coins minted by any particular realm? And has Eli previously seen any other bodies of such an odd yellow color?

    The hobbit scout will take the coins and the long knife and its scabbard, if of decent quality, to be shared with the rest of the party. He does not intend to personally profit from this task, however unpleasant.

    To Rowena he says, with a slight smile and a bow, "It is my habit to refer to almost all women as ladies on first meeting unless invited not to. "Rowena' it is, then, and shall be henceforth, with my thanks. Please call me Eli, and consider me your friend, if you will."

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    Bruno looks around for a spot where the ground doesn't look too hard and without a lot of roots. He breaks out a small shovel to starts digging a grave. He presumes one of the Hobbits will rifle through the victims pockets. Bruno knows that is all that is left to do.

    OOC: If someone is particularly perceptive at reading people, all of these thoughts are pretty obvious on his face

    As he digs, he chants, "Roll the ole chariots along, oh roll the ole chariots along, oh roll the ole chariots along and we'll awl fawl in behind ya."

    It is not very good singing and no one including Bruno is drunk enough to make it so.

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    Finding soft ground is no problem at all -- quite the opposite. This will perforce be a shallow grave as Bruno can tell the sides of a hole would fall in as soon as it got more than an arm's length deep. Still, that will give the unfortunate departed at least some protection from being picked at by carrion eaters.

    Eli is unable to narrow down either the clothing or the coins (which are a mixture such as might be picked up by any traveller, and tend to be accepted by weight in most places, and may, if old, have passed through many pairs of hands whether from the mints of Gondor or Dale or the Blue Mountains or even the Shire). The Man was not tall enough to have been one of the Dunedain, according to reputation, but could have come from anywhere in the North.

    The yellow cast to his features, though, is damned odd and doesn't resemble anything that Eli has ever seen on anything that went on two legs or four. It is uneven, as the mould on some kinds of cheese might be.
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    Since there is no apparent danger, Tom will carefully step forward to look at the body. He looks at the odd cast on the face to see if he knows what it is (Perception +1).
    Then (although Tom is not good at this), he studies Bruno's face to see if he wants any help burying the body (Sense Motive -1).

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    Tom finds himself unable to discern anything more about the peculiar yellow overtone on the soon-to-be-buried body.

    OOC: Sense Motive is normally inapplicable to fellow PCs since I don't dictate their reactions.
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    After helping place the body in the grave, Eli Proudfoot will wipe his hands off as thoroughly as he can on any nearby clean grass or greenery, and then wash his hands, if possible.

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    Having thanked Eli and pledged her friendship in return, Rowena continues to watch his unpleasant but necessary work... Until, across the breeze, travels the faint sound of a tune--specifically, a deep, almost growly singing. Not a beautiful voice, but she's not picky towards non-bardic-produced music.

    When she turns and identifies the source, her eyebrows arch high beneath her strawberry-blonde fringe. Bruno, singing? This amusing piece of information will have to wait for when this grim duty has been completed.

    She sobers and forces another look at the victim, yellow cast and all. Not brave enough to have touched him when she was near, Rowena speaks up now. "This might be a foolish question... I suppose the patches of yellow are definitely part of his complexion? I mean, it's not some sort of paint or dye, right?"

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    Gabe will also much forward to take a look at the strange complexion just incase it is actually a mould or similar and perhaps something he has seen previously in the woods?

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    Tom thanks Bruno for burying the body, then steps back to keep on guard while the party examine the strange colour on the body.

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    Bruno grunts an affirmative in acknowledgement.

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    The outdoorsy types, Gade in particular, definitely think the odd yellow discolouration looked more like a mould or lichen than any kind of paint or ink.

    With the body decently buried, and a few suitable words murmured over it, there seems nothing for it but to press on. This investigation and the corporal work of mercy have caused some delay and, especially in view of the terrain, it seems unlikely that the group will reach the hill crest today. As the afternoon light begins to fade, though, they spy a sturdily-built cabin on pilings a furlong or so ahead, on the large side for a hovel but small for a farmhouse.
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    "Shall I scout ahead," Eli Proudfoot asks, "or shall we approach the cabin as a group?"

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    Tom is always happy to have a scout - and it should be possible to tell if the cabin is occupied (garden? chimney smoke? domestic animals?)

    He asks the party "Should we see who makes a fair party spokesman? That could depend on Charisma and profession..."

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    Bruno says, "I'm more of the door removal person."

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    Rowena doesn't move except with her gaze, which shifts to Arewe. With a fine tongue for high speech and an impressive bearing, the woman surely earns the attention and respect of most who meet her.

    Eli as well, a handsome man with initiative and--Rowena's not certain why the thought occurs to her--a quick, wily mind. He might serve as a scout among such companions, but since when is one restricted to serving in a single role?

    Bruno... obviously not. Nor Gade either. Wait... or is it Gabe? Rowena realizes in embarrassment that she isn't certain which it is. In fairness, the inn was very noisy when she heard him introduced, and she was also hindered by his unusually melodic voice. Well, she'll figure it out later. He seems a bit... shy? Reserved? More comfortable with flora and fauna than conversing with his companions.

    But the most obvious answer is Tom Gamgee himself. He's enthusiastic, well prepared, quite engaging and a natural leader, defying expectations that might be the unfair result of his small size. And as he himself noted, charisma is what's needed, and he has that in spades.

    She holds her tongue and waits for the others to chime in, but grins at Tom in agreement.

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    Gabe says "I suggest another unless we expect animals or plants occupy this place" (Cha 8, Diplomacy -1).

    He is however interested as the folk that live outside town are often better than the towns folk. He will remain Alert (Alertness Feat) and ready to act quickly if needed (Improved Initiative).

    Eyeing his new friends he also says "Should we want to question anyone within and should they attempt an escape I may be able to entangle them as the vines and plants which may have a mind to obey my will"

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    One thing that is quite plain to see is that there is no smoke rising from the house or anywhere near. To Tom this seems oddest of all -- but even to those who are used to wood-burning fires it is strange that no-one is either warming the place up ahead of sunset nor cooking anything.
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    Tom smiles at Bruno. A man of few words - but well-chosen ones!

    Tom thanks Rowena for her support and says he'll do his best as the party spokesman to humanoids. (Cha 17; Diplomacy +3.)
    Of course he will defer to Gabe when encountering animals or plants.

    Provided Eli finds no problems, Tom will advance to the cabin door and knock politely.

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    As Tom knocks, two thoughts cross his mind:

    - did Eli 'scouting ahead' include checking the door for traps?
    - the advice his grandmother gave him "Listen, Tom - if you ever find yourself on an 'adventure' with Big Folk', don't 'put yourself forward'! Remember you're a small person in a big World."

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    Bruno will be about 20' from the door, to the left side of the cabin.

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    Rowena tries to judge where she might be either most useful or least burdensome. Staying out of Bruno's way, she rounds the other side of the cabin, to the right, and stands by the wall's corner. About half of her is behind cover.

    (Her aim is to be able to see Tom and the door frame from close enough where she can perhaps back Tom up with either speech or her bow and arrow. She'll take hold of the bow, but won't reach for an arrow yet.)

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    Eli will certainly check the door for traps, and even circle the house, reconnoitre the grounds, discreetly peer through windows, etc. Then he will make his report and withdraw to a safe distance before anyone knocks on the door.

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    record scratch

    Then before Tom gets as far as the door, there may be something else to process first. We'll back Tom up about 20', closer to the reassuring presence of Bruno.
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    As Tom arrives next to Bruno, he gives a nod of appreciation to Eli for a scouting job well done.

    Once again Tom's mind is racing. Could any of these will happen next:

    - the door opens and a smiling hobbit announces "Welcome - you're just in time for second breakfast!"
    - the door opens and a worried-looking hobbit calls out "Are any of you a Sorcerer?"
    - before he can reach the door, Tom gradually rises into the air. By the time he is several feet up, he realises he is standing on a weedwhip (which had been concealed in the boggy ground.)

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    A question is on Rowena's lips, but she thinks better of it and shakes her head to herself. She waits, still in her position toward the middle of the group, for Eli to return and report. There's some anxiety buzzing around her like an obnoxious bee, but it serves to make her feel alive.

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    Arewe settles in next to Rowena, her hand resting easily on the pommel of her short sword. Everyone else is watching the door so carefully-- Arewe carefully reminds herself to watch any windows, any hard-to-see crevices about the roof, and the greenery surrounding the house, too.

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    At this point, Eli Proudfoot returns from the rear of the house in a manner which, as has been said, suggests he is attempting the world hundred-metre record for the nonchalant walk. That's got our cause-and-effect uncrossed and we're ready to continue... apparently he's seen another weird plant.
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    Before approaching the door, Tom checks with Eli. "is this a second weedwhip ... the same weedwhip ... or another plant altogether?"

    Tom turns to Gabe. "Please take over - this is your area of expertise!"

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    Eli says, "At the back of the house, I saw another strange plant, not the same as the last one we saw. It was a large green clinging vine with ivy-like leaves of dark green, and small dark green bulbs and bright yellow flowers mottled with purple. A long tendril was reaching from the plant through an open window of the house. The plant seemed to move slowly, and, uh, not with the wind. I carefully moved to a point where I could look through the window to try to see what the tendril is doing, but there wasn't enough light to get a decent view inside. Then I noticed there was a faint scent emanating from somewhere near, maybe from the plant itself. It seemed... oddly compelling, in a rather disturbing way." He shudders a little. "That's when I decided I'd better get back here and tell you all what I'd found."

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