Dalin Silverhand: Rotten to the core.

[Spearmint]

This expedition thread is being set for the adventures of Dalin 'the Diggler Silverhand, a dwarf red of beard and bleached jaundiced of skin, after coming into contact with Mummy Dust.

Those exotic grains of rotting bacteria infected the dwarf after he failed to disable a glass cryptex lock placed as a ward upon the bronze doors to the Mummy Mound antechamber. The trap exploded in his hands and he subsequently got covered in the cloud of spores which pockmarked his exposed flesh with festering blisters and once breathed in, slowly corrupts his internals.

As the clock is ticking against a certain doom, the valiant dwarf must seek out a cure for the rotting disease which hinders all but the most basic of health recuperation.

With an option to implore aid from the resident Vicar likely to be ignored in favour of his incarceration and quarantine, plus fearing he may suffer a like fate to those diseased at the Hospice,
Dalin skips town at the most opportune moment to journey in search of a healer with the skill to minister to him.

I will hold here until Dalin's Helix roleplay is complete.

[GreyWolfVT]

Dalin having procured some things to cover his diseased looks and having received the letter for Brother Clive from his friend Moriartus the dwarf sticks to his room until it is time to set off and says very little to anyone keeping a low profile. He shows up ready to go.

added the letter to my sheet under notes and inventory, I also already deducted coin and updated or kept amounts of supplies the same and just paid to refill or "top them off" such as bolts and so forth.

[Spearmint]

May 23rd 1066.

Breakfasting in his room, the dwarf prepares his trek, checking personal supplies and the security of the cargo for the druid's inspection.

A wagon arrives in the pre-dawn hours. Dalin makes an odd couple with the wagon driver, a gaunt scruffy fellow by the named of Pike.

"To cures and Crooked Yew.", he salutes the dwarf, downing some morning moonshine from a silver engraved flask.

The trip (see Duchy region map in Setting thread) runs along a narrow stony trail that borders the Blackened Forest on one side and the misty Barrow Moor on the other. Winding a westwards route over fifteen plus miles, the last section cutting through the forest itself.

Moriartus has pointed out two significant places, the first being the logging camp and the second the forest camp set up by the bugbear patrol the group ambushed. At least in those two places you can travel with a bit more caution, taking in his advice not to get sidetracked from the main trail.

You get off to a nervous start, a patrol checking the trade route with a checkpoint set up. These have not been in operation before.

Checkpoint Charlie [3d6]=7

The trio of guards look bored and disinterested, not doing more than poking a nose into the wagon and waving you on.

"Brigands seen and what not, with that Herne massacre and 'silkers' missing in the forest. Patrol out looking, sure things are fine."

They pass some news and blues' and wave you in your way. Pike keeps the horse to a steady pace, an old shire workhorse as used to wagons as to ploughs. He comfortably hauls the load in and out of potholes and ruts.

The first hour passes, going past the Herne Statue which is a mile or so into the Moor so not visible from the road through a signpost indicates a faint path leading off. Bouquets of flowers laid in memorial now droop. Against a cold breeze and light rain, Pike covers himself in a blanket, downs another gulp of warming moonshine. As he shifts on the seat you can observe two pre-loaded heavy crossbows. Clearly no fool and prepared for eventualities.

comments and actions Dalin

[GreyWolfVT]

Dalin nods and salutes Pike back both times though a raised eyebrow in response to the strange saying in the morning as the dwarf can't make sense of it. Noting the loaded crossbows Dalin likewise loads his and keeps it at the ready and finds a spot to sit or lean up while sitting on/in his laid out bedroll. Trying to stay awake for at least half the night on a watch of his own.

[Spearmint]

The Westward Trail

May 23rd 1066.

Pike keeps the wagon wheels rolling, soon coming to the disused logging camp. Devoid of workers since the attack last month.

Dalin keeps a wary lookout, noting the howl of wolves in the forest but seeing no sign of them. Passing along, the hours and miles tick by.

You draw near to the forest turn off when a trio of heavy barbed shafts come hurtling out of the treeline.

Bugbears throw spears [1d20]=3 [1d20]=4 [1d20]=11

They clatter into the wagon sides and Pike shouts up, urging the horse to gallop down the trail.

actions Dalin please.

[GreyWolfVT]

Dalin unsure of why the wagon would be sent off at a gallop ahead but hopes he is reading the situation correctly and fires his crossbow at the nearest bugbear threat.

Init [1d6]=3
Light Crossbow [1d20]=18 to hit, [2d4]=4 dmg

[Spearmint]

The Westward Trail

May 23rd 1066.

Pike urges the wagon forward so as to get out of range of the spear throwing Bugbears. Dalin turns to injure one.

"Keep firing. Use the heavies for some extra oomph." Pike adds, kicking a pre-loaded crossbow stock towards the dwarf.

He stands to whip the draft horse into a gallop but as he does so, his torso erupts with a barbed shaft that pierces him through his back. He clutches his chest feebly and falls from the wagon. The wheels roll over his body to crush his dying breathe. The panicked horse rears.

Pike deceased.

The bugbear bandits begin to chase down the wagon. Running from their hiding place firstly to reach the body of the driver. They each stab the body, smearing his blood over them. One takes a scalp.

Wagon vs 15% [1d100]=41Bugbears throw spears [1d20]=20 [1d20]=4 [1d20]=7Bugbears spear damage [1d6+1]=5+1=6

Dalin takes the reins in one hand, a crossbow in the other. With little to shelter behind except a few wooden crates, the situation looks critical.

actions please Dalin.

[GreyWolfVT]

Dalin picks up the stock Pike kicked to him before dying and fires at the lead most bugbear. same roll or what am I using?

[Spearmint]

A heavy crossbow produces [2d6] damage.

Pike had two pre loaded by his bench.

[GreyWolfVT]

alright here is my wiff of a roll...
Heavy Crossbow [1d20]=5 [2d6]=11 dmg

[Spearmint]

Shooting at the Bugbears, the shaft sails high and wide. The trio of bandits run, ling loping strides to make the distance. They are out of range of throwing spears currently.

The wagon careers down the trail, Dalin you have another loaded crossbow by your feet.

[GreyWolfVT]

Dalin picks up the last of the preloaded crossbows from Pike and lets fly aiming as best he can at a bugbear.

Heavy Crossbow [1d20]=11 [2d6]=7 dmg

[Spearmint]

The Westward Trail

May 23rd 1066.

Dalin is wayward once more, the bouncing wagon making an unstable platform to snipe at the chasing Bugbears. They close the gap and hurl spears, screaming and shrieking, waving the scalp trophy. But the horse is just a little quicker and the rutted ground is generally on the level. The unrestrained wagon weaves across the trail and around a bend, putting a little more distance between them. The Bugbears throw final spears which clatter about the cart, but the dwarf can dodge the incoming. This time the ambush has failed and they halt their chase.

Dalin, on your own, you can spur the horse on and continue along the trail. Eventually you come to a fork in the road, the trail continues alongside the moor and a right hand narrow path cuts through the forest towards the Crooked Yew settlement.

actions please

Wagon vs 15% [1d100]=43

Attack # medium range (-2 cover)
Bugbears throw spears [1d20]=5 [1d20]=5 [1d20]=1

Wagon vs 15% [1d100]=45

Attack # long range (-2 range, -2 cover)
Bugbears throw spears [1d20]=14 [1d20]=13 [1d20]=15

[GreyWolfVT]

Dalin spurs the horse on and continue along the trail. Sighs to himself for once again this is a close call where some how he managed to survive barely and most of his traveling compatriots did not fare as well. With nobody to talk with the dwarf merely talks to the horse. "You did good, if I can get you some carrots for rewards I shall."

[Spearmint]

Crooked Yew

May 23rd 1066

Dalin consoles the draft horse, Pike's body and the Bugbears left miles behind. He is alone with his thoughts as he trundles through the forest. Prepared, you can load up the two heavy crossbows, one either side of you on the wagon's bench. The narrow trail through the forest meanders around thick trunks and boulders overgrown with moss. Above your head a tribe of baboons graze on blossoming buds. They hoot at your presence below but make no aggressive foray to chase you away. Further along you note a long slithery snake. The mottled green python curls around a branch, almost camouflaged completely as it stalks unwary primates. A fattened dwarf might be a tasty treat by even this one cannot reticulate its jaws wide enough swallow Dalin whole.

After a couple of hours you near the settlement, the first small holdings of thatched log cabins scattered on the perimeter. One or two folk note your wagon but most ignore your presence. Eventually you come to a stockade built between some large trees which house small watch towers. An gate is closed and you can shout up to the gate keepers. After a moment to study you, clearly you are no threat, the gate opens and you can jerk the wagon forward.


From an earlier description.

Crooked Yew' Hives.

A small village, sheltered in the lee of a stockade. The shacks of wattle and daub houses, roofed with steeply graded thatch and larger stilted framed communal long houses. Peasant families huddle over campfires, braces of jackrabbit skins or beaver hanging to dry. Some traders work industrially, the potter at his wheel, a carpenter sawing.

Beyond the village hub, a large dolmen occupies a grassy knoll. Two large upright granite stones and a third as a lintel.

People are polite, tolerating the strangers, staring at the dwarf a little but minding their own business as you pass by.

Beyond the residences you can see spread out in an area of the forest, a dozen or more large sheds and from the buzzing inside can guess these are beehives.

"You can pull your wagon by the store. Be safe there. Come to trade?" a gate guard directs you, asking your business.

[GreyWolfVT]

Dalin reloads the two crossbows and then his own, prior to entering the gate. Afterwards to the gate guard "Well, actually I am the only survivor of a small caravan destined here. I myself was hitching a ride to deliver a message to the Druid Clive for a friend of mine. The original driver of this wagon was slain by bugbears along my way here, Pike was another fellow guard that also did not make it. I suppose now I also am in charge of delivering these bonsai tanks." he answers honestly.

[Spearmint]

Crooked Yew

May 23rd 1066

"Druid Clive. I have some bad news. He is not here. Those Bugbears are part of a larger group that have besieged us these past days. Clive has been taken prisoner and held for ransom."

One of the men, Cyril, greets you. He must one of the village elders. "Pike? Old scoundrel, came round here every season, usually when the scrumpy apples were fermenting. Nice fella, could get you some imported tobacco and fine silks for treats if you asked kindly."

He takes your report of the driver's death, taking his hat off and giving a moment of remembrance. He promises to send some guys out to retrieve the body when it is safe to do so.

"The druid acolytes are up by the hives, repairing the breach and seeing to the honey. You look like you need some, the shock clearly on your face." he says, ascertaining the pockmarked jaundiced skin a result of the recent Bugbears rather than disease.

He points to the druids enclosure and then to the hub of the village. "Jonas runs a back room saloon, trade store over there for furs, smithy can sort out any metal work needs. Need a place to stay, the trade store have a few stable bunks or you can use the Longhouse. Ma' Maisy can see to your needs."

He takes your leave to go back to the gate house.

actions and questions please

[GreyWolfVT]

Dalin "Ah yes, the shock from the bugbears and the loss of the others travelling on the wagon really shook me. I think I lost some years of my life in the last part of the trip here. Bugger, Clive was taken damnation that makes my job a bit harder." are all he says in reply to the guard before he went back to the gate house. The dwarf then moves the wagon to the best indicated place to park, unsure of what to do with the bansia terraiums in it. Then he looks for a stable or something to let the horse get a break, be fed and watered and so he can purchase some carrots as a treat for the horse. After dealing with that the dwarf heads to the druids with the letter in his pack still for Clive, whom unfortunately is a prisoner...of bugbears. Waving politely to anyone that looks his way as he goes.

[Spearmint]

Crooked Yew

May 23rd 1066.

After dealing with that (the horse & wagon) the dwarf heads to the druids with the letter in his pack still for Clive.

Spread out on the fringe of the village and along the stream are whitewashed wooden cabins. They are about 10'ft cubed with a double roof like a pagoda. Slits are cut into the wood for the bees to gain entry and various frames are able to be withdrawn with honeycomb in them. Generally the bees seem to follow a pattern of leaving the hive and flying off into the surrounding forest to hunt for nectar rich plants, hardly ever flying in the direction of the homesteads. However one in six hives are derelict, smelling of decay and rot. Dead larvae of the giant bees abound. Junior aspirants, the basic level of druidical experience monitor the broken hives, removing the grey sticky remnants from give frames not the usual rich amber honey.

Off the one side, a new apiary has been built. It houses a large giant bee hive and is fashioned in a way for the druids to enter and through peepholes, study the interior workings of hive life.

Walking among the hives are three gnome sized figures. They looked more like rough carved wooden caricatures than actual gnomes. These are the three wood golems (or Gnolems) that Moriartus and Dougal may have told you about.

Aspirant Karl greets Dalin, taking his letter of introduction from Moriartus.

Brother Clive,

Greetings, my friend. I hope this letter finds you well. Along with this missive are several items recently procured from a mound associated with Sylvanus.

The length of root is a gift. Miss Two-Birds believes the wood suitable for a staff of excellent quality, well suited for a man of your stature. The nature and value of the bonsai tanks and jars of scions elude me, and of course I immediately thought of your expertise in this area. I have also arranged for their return shipment to Helix.

I have another request concerning Mr. Dalin, the bearer of this letter. He has recently contracted mummy rot disease during a barrow excavation. Efforts to secure treatment here have proven difficult. I would be most grateful for your assistance with this terrible condition. Please keep one of each bonsai tank and jar of scions as payment, if you desire.

Mr. Dalin also bears with him a waterskin of magical fountain water I collected from the Sylvanus mound. It appears to have properties of purification and may prove effective against the virus. If true, I can certainly procure more water as to your needs.

Please give my regards to Ash, Birch, and Conker.

Yours truly,

Moriartus

"I am sorry Mr Dalin. Our experience in these matters are quite limited. We train and study and as seasons progress so we blossom too in our spellcraft. But for now, with Druid Clive's kidnapping we are bereft of such prayers to heal."

The aspirant explains the critical situation. Even for the virus afflicting the bee hives. Daily Clive was ministering to the creatures to protect them from infecting others and spreading the affliction they have.

It strikes the druid that the bees and the dwarf may be afflicted by the same condition perhaps. So they offer to help you as they can. Your disease is not infectious unlike the apiary virus.

Spending the rest of the day with the druids, you learn a couple of things regarding the frontier settlement.

Firstly:

We have maintained a fragile peace with the southern humanoid tribes. A trade treaty still holds with rangers exchanging healing honey salves for skins and goods. I hear rumours of more tribal unification under emerging warlord
figureheads. How this will affect our presence in the Blackened Forest remains unclear.

The Red Fangs are assimilating many of the nomad tribes in the west of the forest. The village of Bhaz'rad Dur, is closest over the pine forest then you have Glaz'rada, 'the village of lepers' and after the nomadic steppes tribes.

So the Red Fangs are a warlike tribe, converting to the cult of Set, demi-god of death and the underworld. An attack on the Crooked Yew was staged a couple of nights ago. After a distraction, some Bugbears raided the druid annexe and took Clive away as a captive. Currently the settlement are gathering jars of royal honey to use as ransom.

Secondly:

With that in mind, acquiescing to Lord Krothos' demands may serve another purpose. For with a new chapel may come further security to the frontiers. My concerns are that conscript militia may overstep their mark, acting in belligerence and ignorance to cause trouble with any forest nomads whom they encounter.

The lumberjacks in the village are felling trees to build a Chapel to St Ygg and small barracks for Duchy conscripts. It has ruled the village who are mostly Herne following and presently the settlement is more resistant to new Duchy taxation and forced military service for those of age.

The druids will take the Bonsai tanks and grafting sprues to study, along with the wineskin' of fountain water.

Dalin, ask any questions you like about the settlement, the hives, the Bugbears, wood golems.

[GreyWolfVT]

Dalin sulks a bit distraught at his bad luck rolling at him like a mudslide "Hmm well if that I had more with my I might have offered to go looking for Clive. But I'm solo and I don't think I stand a chance in trying to rescue him alone not with my condition." the dwarf admits "So what is so special about these terrariums anyway? I lost good folk in getting them here." then thinking things over more "Do you suppose it is the same disease that afflicts me that might also be afflicting the plants?" then thinking about Clive and wondering if the gnomes know anything about Bjornark the druid he figures it does not hurt to ask "You wouldn't be familiar at all with a druid named Bjornark would you by chance?"