Not at all surprised by the man's presumption, B'yelka asks with a hint of conspiratory whisper "What hunt, dear man?"
Dantrian's expression darkens, already suspecting the answer B'yelka's question will garner.
Janos tries to walk between Anton and the nobleman, grabbing the Paladin's arm as he goes to try to move him along. "I'm sorry, sir, we're not interested. He really is a horrible shot too."
Not at all surprised by the man's presumption, B'yelka asks with a hint of conspiratory whisper "What hunt, dear man?"
"Yesterday Delgros here found the corpse of a golden stag," Duristan says indicating the huntsman. "He and his group had been pursuing it and then found the stag's corpse, ravaged by something. I am convinced it was killed by a werewolf, and I will hunt down the wicked beast!"
B'yelka shoos Janos and Anton away, "Go make sue our rooms are suitable." She turns her attention to the would-be werewolf slayer and says, "Oh, dear! Werewolves? I know the Shudderwood has a delightfully wicked reputation, but I never heard that there'd be were wolves here!" She lets the man reply and then continues, "But aren't there some shape-shifters that are not so vile as werewolves? Are all werewolves lost souls? Maybe you can make more of this than mere sport? Imagine the fame if you managed a cure or control for the monsters?" She looks at Dantrian sideways as the noble man talks, trying to read his expression. At least Mister Almaeus's stone face serves well here.
Dursitan slows up long enough to actually take a close look at the Six. "Well, I say! You appear to be quite the formidable group. I apologize if I overstepped in offering you commands, I was caught up in the heat of excitement. Please, you all must join me on my hunt." The noble's eyes gleam. He raises his hands to shoulder height and makes waves them upwards as if to thank the gods for the idea he's just had. "If you help me track down the werewolf, I will treat you to a feast afterwards and pay for your accommodations here at Ascanor."
As the group is conversing, Belik the porter walks quickly off about some other business. Many of the small crowd that gathered remain, caught up in the drama of Duristan's flamboyance. Delgros looks over the group and shrugs, he looks like he'd feel a lot better with them along also.
Dantrian watches the exchange and taps an index finger against his lips as he considers all that's unfolding. "If you would give us a moment to discuss your offer, sir."
Pulling the others together, he quietly states, "This is unfathomably risky given this noble's romanticized bloodlust, but it may also be a keen opportunity to secure a foothold here and learn from the flamboyant noble of the various players in the lodge. Perhaps we can glean some clues as to our quarry's plans in the area or learn of someone who might be a source of information." He looks then to the masked figure, so out of place and seemingly lost within the walls of the lodge, "It might also be an opportunity for you to lend some credence to your claims, Ashan."
After the long ride through the Shudderwood, the last thing Anton wants to do is head back into the imposing wood.
But he cannot deny the logic of what Dantrian suggests.
There's probably something to what you're saying Dantrian. If we can get him talking he seems like the sort who won't stop
"We don't even know these people, Dantrian. If there is something out there, we don't know if it's a werewolf or not. If it is, then you of all people know how dangerous that is. They could get us all killed." Janos presses his lips together and shakes his head, clearly not liking this idea.
Having been lingering on the periphery of the conversation for some time, Ashan finally advances as discussion of the hunt appears to be reaching a natural—and expected—conclusion. The masked elf does not say anything, rather he looms just behind Anton's right shoulder, peering over the archer's frame to assess Dursitan more carefully.
Finally, Ashan offers an askance look to Dantrian. "I will accompany you," is said to Dursitan, rather than the alchemist. Ashan starts to pull away from the group, but pauses to offer a look back to them. "I am less use to you here in the shelter of your civilization." The "your" has a certain bitter inflection to it. "Find out what you can here."
With that, Ashan seems content to insinuate himself in the nobles' game. He turns to approach them, seemingly unarmed and unarmored. "I will be your souls' shadow," is perhaps not the most comforting thing Ashan could offer as a greeting to the noblemen.
"My, what an odd duck," Duristan says, peering with frank curiosity at Ashan. "You are welcome good...sir?"
"Let's help the man. It can only serve us to get into someone's good graces in this place."
Janos sighs and looks at Ashan and B'yelka. "Alright, let's join them. We can't let Ashan go by himself. He might just scare the werewolf away."
He glances at Delgrios, "Well, what do we know of this creature? I'm an able woodsman and tracker. I can help."
Smirking, "Then I shall charm them right back."
Dantrian nods as Janos comes around, the gesture both approving and appreciative at the same time. His companions can clearly see a sharper stiffness in the man as they make ready to set out into the wood. It had been days since Dantrian's curse last exerted itself atop Caromarc's tower, and they all know well enough the struggle it had been for the man to rein it in since.
No, Mosswick, you cannot. Thank you for your concern though.
You overestimate me yet again, but my survival is not what concerns me. If my curse takes hold of me while we are with this noble, he is likely to turn on us, upon me specifically. Should that happen, I see no way in which things do not end in tragic bloodshed.
No, indeed, they would not. But, if pressed, they would defend me and this Duristan seems foolish enough to force their hand. Our excursion with these men runs great risk, Mosswick.
Anton picks up on the stiffness of Dantrian's jawline as the decision is made to accompany the hunter. As the others start to move away he approaches the alchemist;
It's alright Dantrian. he whispers. If you have to face your fears out there you won't do it alone.
He offers Mosswick a smile and a thumbs-up gesture
Dantrian holds Anton's gaze and nods, "Precisely. Hence my concern." Mosswick, however, hisses a short laugh before beaming a bright smile back at the Desnan, mirroring his thumbs up briefly before clapping softly to himself.
Janos glances back and sees Anton and Dantrian conferring. He nods and motions for B'yelka to engage Duristan. Perhaps her charms could help them learn if the Way had been around the Lodge at all.
Himself, he turns to woodsman, ready to talk shop. He knew men like this; he liked men like this. He glances over to Ashan. "Come on, Ashan. I'm sure Delgrois here can tell us all about this part of the forest and the werewolf sightings." He looks at the hunter expectantly.
Janos sighs and looks at Ashan and B'yelka. "Alright, let's join them. We can't let Ashan go by himself. He might just scare the werewolf away."
He glances at Delgrios, "Well, what do we know of this creature? I'm an able woodsman and tracker. I can help."
"Nothing, really. So far there's no evidence it's even a werewolf. Earlier, when the party I was leading saw the carcass they were completely terrified. They all lost their nerve and ran back to the lodge. I was too busy chasing them down and doing rumor control to really examine the scene," Delgros replies.
"Oh, excellent," Duristan says, clapping his hands. "Let's be off then." The young nobleman leads his horse and his retainers out of the gate. Delgros shrugs and follows him. Just outside the gates of the lodge, Duristan and Delgros mount up and begin to trot in a westerly direction. After a few miles, they reach the spot where the dead stag was found.
The trail leads to a small clearing, where the trampled ground and snapped brush show signs of a great struggle. The soil is soaked with blood, and more has splashed upon the tree trunks and leaves. Despite the telltale evidence, Delgros’s jaw drops and his eyes dart wildly with shock at the situation. “It’s gone!” he cries. "We need to search the area. If it really is a werewolf acting this close to the Lodge, I need to know for sure."
Drosil looks to Ashan as the newcomer steps forward and volunteers the party to join the hunt. Is he mad? If Dantrian changes while we're out there - and I can't imagine he won't - then what will happen? This elf is surely going to be the death of us. However, as the others step forward, he sighs. "Very well, let us all make our way back to the scene and investigate further. As long as we stick together, and don't lose our heads, we should be fine." Now, let's just hope that we can keep Dantrian from becoming their target.
"Oh Drosil, when have we ever lost our heads?"
Do we really have to be in such a hurry? B'yelka rides along the speed of the horse somehow refreshing as well as unnerving. A carriage next time, even in the woods! No, no, master this skill, too. She keeps her smile during the ride, even though she does not feel it. So much for talking to Duristan!
She finds herself looking at Dantrian again and again. He sits his horse like a mannequin! The thought that he is really frightened finally lands in her heart like an arrow falling to the ground, a fatal final *thunk*. Well, if ever he needs me, he knows where I am.
Once at the site, and dismounted, B'yelka searches the area with the others. While standing next to Duristan she whispers to him, "If I am to be out in these woods, I am glad I have such an expert as you to keep us safe!" She scans the ground and sees the tracks of an immense wolf.
Oh dear! she yelps. "Duristan, what do you make of these? too large to be a normal wolf, but then, they don't look right..." Ah, Tibi, you still inspire me. She adds a bit of garnish to the act, "According to "Alemane's Almanac of Unnatural Animals" these prints are too large to be a Loup Garou's prints. Maybe a dire wolf?" Still searching the other prints become clear to her. "And these! Definitely not a wolf, or even canine at all." She turns to Duristan again, "What do you think they are? Some kind of cloven hoof for sure. I just can't figure out how big owner is."
During the search she makes eye contact with Janos, and she smiles broadly. This is rather fun! I will have to ask him later if he has any advice for me next time we have to search for animal carcasses.
Duristan appears to be startstruck by the Diva's tracking skills. "You can see that all at a glance, madame? Then your own skills certainly surpass mine. I am honored to be in the presence of such a multifaceted beauty." Duristan offers B'yelka a small bow. "It must have been fate that met at the gate. With your help we're certain to slay a werewolf."
Duristan, if I may call you so, what is it you get out of hunting? Anton asks curiously. He is not judgemental, but simply has an interest, I've never hunted myself beyond the need for food. And if it is such dangerous game as werewolves that you seek, are these other men prepared for that? he asks, eyeing the small throng of helpers and hangers-on
Janos smiles at B'yelka's assessment of the tracks. "She's a natural alright. Now if I can just convince her to get muddy once in a while." He chuckles and looks towards the tracks.
"There's a second set here. It looks more like boar tracks." He frowns. "A bit of an odd thing to have here together." He glances over to his right, and walks over to a set of bushes. "And if I had to guess, your carcass was dragged over through these bushes. I-" He cuts off and he moves down the trail a small amount
"Noises over here. Some sort of grunting. Be quiet and let's see what's here." Janos drops into a crouch and moves toward the sound.
As soon as Janos indicates there may be danger nearby, Anton quickly dismounts. He is a competent rider, but had never had occasion to master the bow from horseback and he knows firing from that position would put him at a serious disadvantage.
Once grounded, he readies his bow for what may come.
If you skirt around Janos, you can flush it out toward us. Whatever it is. he whispers.
He casts a glance at the group of retainers, hoping they are at a safe distance should this situation prove deadly.
As the group rides through the wood, Dantrian drinks a few of his longer lasting extracts from horseback. Apart from that, he offers little by way of conversation or observation, focused intently as he is upon the knife's edge his presence leaves the group balanced upon. Worry churns in the pit of his stomach, but he does well to swallow it down and maintain his trademark stoicism.
---
At the scene, Dantrian nods approvingly as B'yelka both discerns the nature of the tracks and ingratiates herself with Duristan. As the diva moves throughout the area, Dantrian quaffs a pair of elixirs himself, though the second one he spits back into the flask without swallowing.
As Janos notes the noise and movement from the bushes, Dantrian drinks another extract as he draws his mace, positioning himself in the front of the group. "Likely the boar." He looks quickly at B'yelka and Duristan and adds, "Regardless of what it might be, stay behind me."
HP: 52/52 + 10 temp
AC: 22 (11 T / 21 FF)
CMD: 19
F/R/W: +6/+6/+4
Spontaneous Healing used: 0/35hp
Enhanced Potions used: 1/3
Hero Points used: 2/3
Prepared Mutagen: Strength (darkvision, scent) [ ]
Prepared 1st Level Extracts (3+1): cure light wounds [ ], shield [X], open [ ] [ ] [ ]
Prepared 2nd Level Extracts (3+1): ablative barrier [X], alchemical allocation [X], barkskin [X], false life [X]
Prepared 3rd Level Extracts (1+1): displacement [ ], thorn body [ ]
-Ongoing Effects-
barkskin: 7 hours
ablative barrier: 7 hours, 0/35 damage absorbed
heroism: 70 minutes, +2 morale to attack roles, saves, skill checks
shield: 7 minutes
The Ascanor party stays back, unwilling to risk themselves when there are real adventurers present. They allow Janos and Dantrian to take the lead.
Janos creeps forward silently to a row of shrubbery shielding a clearing beyond. He slithers into the thick undergrowth enough to see a wild scene beyond. In the clearing are three great dire boars, busy feasting on the corpse of the golden stag.
Apparently Janos was not as quiet and well hidden as he thought, because the three boars raise their bloody snouts to stare right at him at the same time he sees them. With loud squeals of displeasure, the boars turn to charge.
Anton:
Drosil:
B'Yelka:
Dantrian:
Janos: (+2 in forest)
Ashan:
Boars:
Hogs 14
Party 11.33
The wagon sized hogs charge Janos with their sword-like tusks, trying to impale the ranger. Janos tries to block the tusks, but he is caught off guard by the boars' ferocity and isn't quite fast enough. A set of ivory spikes pierce through his body with a full ton of bacon pressing down behind them, hurting as bad as any blade. The ranger dodges fast enough to avoid any mortal wound, and his armor mitigates the blow as well. Still, his blood is flowing freely now.
______________________________________________
Hit, Miss, Miss
In an aside to Duristan, "You were impressed with my woodland skills? That was nothing!" The diva begins a song pushing the boys to their best. As part of the song she weaves in a bit of a allegro.
Dantrian dashes forward, spurred on by B'yelka's magics and darts around the bushes to circle behind the right-most boar. With one of the boars positioned between himself an Janos, the alchemist waits for the ranger to wade in before bringing his mace crashing into the side of one of the boar's exposed flanks.
HP: 52/52 + 10 temp
AC: 23 (12 T / 22 FF)
CMD: 19
F/R/W: +8/+9/+6
Spontaneous Healing used: 0/35hp
Enhanced Potions used: 1/3
Hero Points used: 2/3
Prepared Mutagen: Strength (darkvision, scent) [ ]
Prepared 1st Level Extracts (3+1): cure light wounds [ ], shield [X], open [ ] [ ] [ ]
Prepared 2nd Level Extracts (3+1): ablative barrier [X], alchemical allocation [X], barkskin [X], false life [X]
Prepared 3rd Level Extracts (1+1): displacement [ ], thorn body [ ]
-Ongoing Effects-
barkskin: 7 hours
ablative barrier: 7 hours, 0/35 damage absorbed
heroism: 70 minutes, +2 morale to attack roles, saves, skill checks
shield: 7 minutes
inspire courage: +2 hit/damage (bonus to saves doesn't stack w/ heroism)
haste (+1 hit, AC, reflex and 30ft movement): 1/7 rounds
power attack: -2 to hit, +6 damage
The boars burst out of the undergrowth, shrieking and squealing in an almost human fashion. They take Anton almost by surprise and his first shots are hurried in reponse tough as he gathers himself his customary accuracy returns.
Janos steps through the brush as only a seasoned woodsman can and suddenly he's at the flank of one of the boars with his sword in hand. He slashes at the monsterous-sized pig as Dantrian closes in from the other side.
Though silent and contemplative during the trek through the forest, Ashan displayed qualities unlike those his companions had yet seen. Finding the masked elf stopped to inspect a patch of moss on a tree, holding one hand alight to watch a butterfly perched on one gloved knuckle, or even staring up at the sky to observe a raptor circle overhead. This wistful observation of the natural world is juxtaposed with the otherworldly and obviously supernatural quality of his presence, such as the shadow cast by his body being occasionally speckled with stardust, or ephemeral motes of inky shadow dancing between his fingers or across his masked countenance.
All wistfulness and whimsy fades when the boars make their presence known. Ashan watches Janos move ahead with silent attention, then steps in front of B'yelka with one gloved hand raised. "Garas, to ma'in isala suledin."
As he speaks those words, a familiar golden glow builds around Ashan's right arm. The glow becomes woven with threads of green and black, then fans out of his forearm like wings, flexing at his wrist and spiraling up and down to form a shimmering longbow made from little more than ephemeral motes of light and incomprehensible whispering in elven. As Ashan's hand plucks as the air where a bowstring would be, a faint whisker of light glimmers between his fingers, as if a string is there, but so thin it hardly exists. As the ghostly bowstring is drawn back, an arrow sparks into being forged from a shaft of golden light glittering with stardust.
__________
Come, dwell inside me in my time of need.
Drosil rushes into the fray, mithral rapier flashing in the patches of light shining through the forest canopy above.
The wagon sized hogs charge Janos with their sword-like tusks, trying to impale the ranger. Janos tries to block the tusks, but he is caught off guard by the boars' ferocity and isn't quite fast enough. A set of ivory spikes pierce through his body with a full ton of bacon pressing down behind them, hurting as bad as any blades. The ranger dodges fast enough to avoid any mortal wound, and his armor mitigates the blow as well. Still, his blood is flowing freely now.
In an aside to Duristan, "You were impressed with my woodland skills? That was nothing!" The diva begins a song pushing the boys to their best. As part of the song she weaves in a bit of a allegro.
Dantrian dashes forward, spurred on by B'yelka's magics and darts around the bushes to circle behind the right-most boar. With one of the boars positioned between himself an Janos, the alchemist waits for the ranger to wade in before bringing his mace crashing into the side of one of the boar's exposed flanks and shattering bones.
The boars burst out of the undergrowth, shrieking and squealing in an almost human fashion. They take Anton almost by surprise and his first shots are hurried in reponse tough as he gathers himself his customary accuracy returns. He puts two arrows in the head of the boar Dantrian just struck, one going through its eye and into its brain, killing it instantly.
Janos steps through the brush as only a seasoned woodsman can and suddenly he's at the flank of one of the boars with his sword in hand. He slashes at the second monsterous-sized pig as Dantrian closes in from the other side. His sword bites deeply into the boar's flesh two times, ripping it open and spilling its guts. Though already dead, the boar doesn't know it yet and continues to shriek in rage.
Though silent and contemplative during the trek through the forest, Ashan displayed qualities unlike those his companions had yet seen. Finding the masked elf stopped to inspect a patch of moss on a tree, holding one hand alight to watch a butterfly perched on one gloved knuckle, or even staring up at the sky to observe a raptor circle overhead. This wistful observation of the natural world is juxtaposed with the otherworldly and obviously supernatural quality of his presence, such as the shadow cast by his body being occasionally speckled with stardust, or ephemeral motes of inky shadow dancing between his fingers or across his masked countenance.
All wistfulness and whimsy fades when the boars make their presence known. Ashan watches Janos move ahead with silent attention, then steps in front of B'yelka with one gloved hand raised. "Garas, to ma'in isala suledin."
As he speaks those words, a familiar golden glow builds around Ashan's right arm. The glow becomes woven with threads of green and black, then fans out of his forearm like wings, flexing at his wrist and spiraling up and down to form a shimmering longbow made from little more than ephemeral motes of light and incomprehensible whispering in elven. As Ashan's hand plucks as the air where a bowstring would be, a faint whisker of light glimmers between his fingers, as if a string is there, but so thin it hardly exists. As the ghostly bowstring is drawn back, an arrow sparks into being forged from a shaft of golden light glittering with stardust.
Drosil rushes into the fray, mithral rapier flashing in the patches of light shining through the forest canopy above. It pierces the boar in the chest, going in deep, and making the boar squeal loudly.
================================
The nearly dead boar retaliates sluggishly against Janos, venting its rage with a clumsy slash. The ranger sidesteps its tusks, keeping it behind the guard of his blade.
The boar that Drosil stabbed also tries to gore him, but the nimble fetchling hops aside easily. The boars long tusks do nothing but destroy some of the shrubbery they are fighting in.
___________________________________________
Janos strikes at the nearly dead boar, then motions for Anton to send his arrows at the final one. The Ranger slips through the brush towards it.
Nodding that he understands, Anton unleashes another devastating barrage of arrows
Drosil's rapier continues to thrust deep into the boar's chest, leaving nary a trace of its passing in the rough and tousled fur.
"Glorious! Wonderful!" Duristan exclaims, raising his arms to the heavens while he praises the Six's work. The nobleman rushes forward past the boars, not bothering to check if they are okay. He crouches down next to the corpse of the golden stag, studying it intently. "Hmmmm.....mmhmmmm.......aaah...." he says, making great show of his study. After a moment he shrugs, "It seems that...I am out of my depth. Someone come help me!"
"Oh my!" Duristan exclaims at the news. "I knew it, a werewolf! We must stay the night here. Certainly the beast will return for its kill, and we shall kill it."
Delgros shakes his head. "A fool's errand, m'lord. I'll be heading back to the Lodge before dark. If you were all wise, you'd come with me."
"Bah! You prattle on like an old woman, Delgros. Lift your skirts and run! Me and these six noble warriors will stay the night, and enjoy a hunt like no other, won't we, madame?" Duristan asks B'yelka.
Janos calls Dantrian over to examine the corpse. He points some gouge marks. "I think this could be from the boars. Pigs like that will eat anything. But what about this?" He pulls back some flesh to show the Alchemist.
Drosil makes his way over to the carcass and attempts to be another pair of eyes.
Having no real interest in getting deer or boar blood on her new boots, B'yelka hangs back. Her mind turns to Dantrian, his normally stoic countenance even stonier than normal. He takes this all so deeply. I feel for him, but he is so hard to talk to. She frowns, He knows we are here for him, but it feels like he is as afraid of us as he is of other people...
Her thoughts are interrupted by Duristan's question. "Hmm? Oh, yes, we could." She asks herself, Is this how all nobles sound? Prattling ninnies? Still, she recognizes his value and adds, "No, not madame, I am too young to have that title. Please, just B'yelka." She sends him a gracious smile and makes eye contact, only to turn away and blush.
Kneeling down beside the carcass, Dantrian proceeds to examine the remains with a methodical precision.
"Indeed, Janos, you are correct. While the remains are marred horribly by the boars' hungry work, I believe the wounds that killed this stag were these series of lacerations here and, what appears to be, these accompanying bite marks."
Rising, Dantrian looks to the others but his face darkens at Duristan's claim. "While I understand your enthusiasm for hunting werewolves, Duristan, nothing of what I said would suggest such a creature brought this stag down. Any beast with claws and fangs could have done this, not just those afflicted with lycanthropy. Besides, are you fully outfitted for a werewolf hunt with a hunting party of this size?" He sweeps his hand before him, indicating the group as a whole. "Have you silver weapons enough for all of us? Wolfsbane in abundant supply? I would not want to see your eagerness bring you to harm for want of better supplies."
Watching the shadows of worry cross Dantrian's face the Diva begins to understand that he wants nothing to do with being out here after dark. "Duristan, I think Mister Almaeus may be correct. Honestly, I tend to defer to him when he speaks of keeping us safe." She motions to the Six and continues "We might be able to handle one loup garuou, but what if they hunt in a pack, and what of your beaters and bearers? The lodge may be the wiser choice." She looks back to Dantrian, and smiles, trying to show that she does support him, if at odds with his methods.
I don't know much about werewolves but I know they'd have the advantage over us in the dark. Anton agrees
"Well, over some of us, anyway..." Drosil says with a smirk.