Basil_Bottletop

Okay, so here's the turn of the story where you guys tell me 'my character wouldn't do that' or 'I'd like to add some detail that Wyck would have noticed to this part'. After we've settled on a canonical post, I'll hopefully have the next one ready to go. But I didn't want to write multiple ones and then try to retcon a series of posts all at once.

The following are excerpts from the Witnessing journal of Wyckmere Mirth. The contents of the journal is in a shorthand script of his own creation. The margins house sketches, numbers, and other reference points. It has been deciphered for use here. 9th Day, Eleasis More excerpts from the journal beyond those already shared. Their reactions varied and I am not sure I caught the ever-unfolding consequences of the letter until long after I returned from my new morning ritual. *A tally along the margin denotes a simple two-column running count, totaling 6 dashes. Some are in the left column, others in the right column. No other designation is marked.* I am still not convinced we are to put ourselves in this, but below is a copy of the letter for the sake of my thorough Witness. I rewrote it here because his handwriting looks like what you'd expect from a man more comfortable with his blade than a pen. Mine is not much better, but I have been practicing. *The Letter is not in shorthand and instead written deliberately large and legible.* After the letter was shared, focus returned on their journey and we prepared to set out. Another proclaimation was made by the kobold, Ragz, which may have further ingrained a knot into the rope that is our undertaking. I am not sure what to make of it yet, but there will no doubt come a time when the consensus will not be strong enough to endure such things and the collection of fates will be unraveled. I only hope that when that time comes, I have the eye to know which group to follow to see this to its end. I know my enthusiasm to march wasn't to the similar quality that D'Artegenon would keep, but the group moved with as much emphasis as was needed. Above us was a flock of migrating birds which crossed our own path headed toward the sea, but I could not tell their type. Long necked, blue. Noted here because they were pretty, a large migration, and may be a sign of the region's change. We did not see them on our trip southward just a few weeks ago. The ground held dew for a long time before it finally released it to the morning sun. Our boots remained wet for most of the morning. Winter approaches sooner this year, I think. We went due north toward a town, which we found just before nightfall. Surbroar. It is defensible from the south with two great bridges over the river and we took the westernmost one to enter. D'Artegenon told me that getting close to the city would be doubly difficult to read my protections, but I think I underestimated just how much he'd been in practice these past few years doing it. Even before we could see the city limits, I was drowned in them. I think I'll call them footprints for now. He had another name for it, but I don't have a short hand for it yet. It took me until we gathered near the river to truly see all of the footprints and what they would mean to our protection. I think I got it under control, but man is it something to see them all. At once. Some of the others were concerned for the group's anonymity, but it is reaping season in Surbroar and the streets were full with all manner of people selling this year's harvest. The line on the bridge was an easy indication that the walled city was prepared for guests, but only of the paying type. The Gate did not count our group as one but instead many, after Roland saw fit to split us into two groups for the duration of the line with two dwarven wine merchants in between us. After being out in the wildlands this long, it was nice to be in the presence of people again even though we had to avoid most of them. We don't often return to places a second time, but this might have been a nice place to visit for longer if I were given a third chance. If the mix is to believed, then the region outside Surboar is far more diverse than I first thought. *A note in the margin simply says Bugbears? 0* Even at night, the streets were busy with merchants, buyers, and visitors. I bought bread from one boy and it tasted better than anything I've ever made. I made sure to buy Aly her own loaf too, since she's apt to giving it away or soaking hers in stew. I wasn't present for it, but it sounded as though Torben was able to get himself some painting pigments from a merchant's table after some minor incidents regarding local customs. As told to me, it might have cost him a few coins more for similar inks, but he was content to pay what was called later by another as a bugbear tax. All of the inns were full. Roland found a man with an empty stable back home and bartered for us to sleep there. Valcinni Ulteucht. We learned his mare died not long ago and he hadn't the coin to replace her, he was drowning his sorrows on the street corner outside a butcher's shop. Our barter will set him up well to that end, I think. We slipped the others in after Valcinni had gone back into town to enjoy the nice evening and his full purse. A watch is already being arranged by Rillik and we intend to be gone before Valcinni awakes tomorrow. I have heard some grumblings at the inability to break away for certain comforts of the city or items they wish to gather, but this is for the best. Yopine says most of the signs she sees suggesting guild work of her kind looks off and likely the work of amateurs. I now wonder how often D'Artegenon and I came into a place and did not see such things nor know such things and how it might have changed how our Witnessing happened. If she saw any else that concerned her about guild markings, she did not share it where I could hear. Regardless, no doubt a concentration of this many people in one place for a short amount of time is likely to attract a few extra eyes and I am happy to give up my night out for the assurance that we will leave with everything and everyone we came with. This part of Surbroar is asleep now. Some of the others have broken away for various tasks or conversations and my journal page grows long, but we all remain beneath the stable roof for fear of being found out. Our candles are perhaps the only light in the neighborhood. It is quiet. For the first time in weeks, I can hear the quiet.

Armando Railwalker Gnomish Warlock AC: 13 (leathers) | HP: 9/9 | Initiative: +2 | Passive Perception: 11 Spell Slots: 1st 1/1 | Spell Attack: +4 | Spell DC: 12 DM Inspiration: 0/1 With feet firmly on solid ground again, the gnome's equilibrium returned. There was something oddly terrifying about being hoisted up by one's arm with the darkness below slowly swallowing up your return path. Falling would have been lethal, but Armando somehow still found the unknown other options even more horrifying. At Riffraff's prompt, Armando came out of his downward spiraling revelry. He raised the lantern up level to his own face, giving it an unnatural glow that created dark crevices where his leathery skin wrinkled, and stepped forward. "Yesa can." Mechanics Main Hand: Empty Off Hand: Empty Action: Bonus Action: Move: Manipulate:

The Behemoth & The Queen (earth) The Wyvern & The Wyld (air) The Sea Beast & The Heron Roc (water) The Bull & The Chimera (fire) The Vessel (spirit) The Behemoth The great shell-backed beast. It's lumbering movement is plodding but relentless. Great earthquakes and other catastrophes are seen to be the evidence of the great Behemoth being pressed to go faster or pivot it's intended path. It's great horns are those of drought, famine, and the earth itself torn asunder. The Behemoth is the great symbol of growth, cultivation, struggle, and survival. The Queen Sum of its parts. The Queen is ruler over the deep depths of Muru. Her kingdom is the dark fathomless places where mycelia and insect are dominant. She is seen to have the most fierce features from all of her ilk. Termite, beetle, mollusk, and fungi forged into one dominating creature. She commands the natural cycle, the depths and dark, and the interconnectivity of nature. Her power is infused in the lush greens atop the earth, as well as the roots below. The Wyvern The massive leathery wings of the Wyvern are magnificent. When it takes flight, it can be seen from half of Muru. But when it descends upon the earth, it's violence knows few rivals. A gregarious vision of the true violence in natural things. The highest of highs and the lowest depths of despair. It's omen is that of the storm, a wild and unpredictable thing that no mortal could hope to control. The Wyld The night sky is the perfect place for this dark beast to hide in plain sight. It's form is never truly known and it hides amongst the Tears of the Primodials. It feasts upon the night itself and those that wish to harness it. Delicate fingers can last out from the shadows and paralyze one with it's raw depth. The Kraken It is what one cannot see that is it's scariest. The Kraken rests beneath the waves of the ocean and waits for it's victims to find solace and happiness upon it's rocking rhythm. Scaled tentacles and a maw that can crush Muru's strongest stones, the Kraken feasts upon those that venture too far away from their sanctuary. A threat meant to be told and not seen, the Kraken is the whispers Mortals speak unto themselves. It is the fear of the unknown that keeps mortals within reach of their solace. The Kraken is what happens when Mortals go beyond their limitations and seek to control more than they can handle. The Pelican Roc Unlike the Kraken, the Roc seeks to be seen, or more importantly, to see. With it's wingspan, it's able to circumvent the world in hours instead of months. With it's beak, it swallows up entire seas -and everything in it- and displaces it somewhere new when it has had its fill. For every shoreline kept empty because of the Kraken, the Roc has explored two new ones. Its nest is the cloud itself and it does not burden itself with a sedentary life. The Bull Industry, tools, the taming of fire and innovation. The Bull is seen as a force that few can reckon. Within it's power for creation, the flames of the bull can also destroy. It's hooves leave naught in its wake. It's flicking tail merely fan the flames. The Chimera A mercurial trickster whoes form contiually shifts and adapts. The Chimera is a master illusionist, but more often than not it cannot help but show off it's many faces within it's own disguise. It is the embodiment of beauty, passion, and envy. The Vessel

Armando Railwalker Gnomish Warlock AC: 13 (leathers) | HP: 9/9 | Initiative: +2 | Passive Perception: 11 Spell Slots: 1st 1/1 | Spell Attack: +4 | Spell DC: 12 DM Inspiration: 0/1 There was a bitterness boiling up in Armando's stomach. As he watched the woman ascend the chain, the all-too-obvious next step would surely be happening and he hadn't yet figured out how to manage it. And so it was, as she gained purchase and spouted off her findings, Armando sought to see who would be next up the chain. The dwarf took his turn first. Armando looked longingly back the way they'd came and thought of all of the nasty bugs they'd fought recently. With the dwarf and the warrioress split from them, they would surely be easy pickings. Then came the next and the next, and soon Armando was the last one standing in there with his bare backside showing for all the bugs in the world to see. He wrapped his arm and hand around the end of the rope let down by the others. While it might be painful and somewhat awkward to be brought high with only one hand, he did not want the lantern to be dampened or snuffed out on his belt. Instead, he chose to carry it with his other hand. As they drew him upward -perhaps a small task for a group of stronger individuals such as they were- Armando's eyes laid strictly on the landing they left behind. He felt very much like a worm on a hook dangling there and more than one ethereal carp appeared beneath him to gobble him up. Once on solid ground again, he put the lantern down and unfurled his bound appendage. The redness took a moment to rub out and feeling soon returned to his fingers. Mechanics Main Hand: Empty Off Hand: Empty Action: Bonus Action: Move: Manipulate:

Character Name: Kenric Penbotham Careers: Actor, Boatman Persona: Fanatic Goal: Lead the Faction Liabilities: Outcast Mannerisms: Lilting Attributes 0 Strength Melee attacks, lifting, climbing, breaking free 0 Dexterity Dodging, sneaking, sleight of hand 0 Constitution Physical resistance, item slots, wounds 1 Intelligence Lockpicking, alchemy, spells per day 2 Wisdom Ranged attacks, foraging, navigation, spell resistance 0 Charisma Initiative, persuasion, companions, blessings Stats Level 1 Experience 0 Armor Class 11+AP = 14 Armor Points 3 Max Hitpoints 1d6 = 2 Hitpoints 1 You can carry 10 + Constitution slots worth of items. 500 coins fills one slot. Multiple small items may fill one slot if together they could all fit in a hand. Inventory 1. Spellbook: Gravity (1/day, target decides what is "down") 2. Instrument: Banjo 3. Costume 4. Short Bow : d6, 120 range 5. Padded cloth: +1 AP 6. 40 coin, 1 key 7. Helmet (from Alma, mushroom formed and painted): +1 AP 8. Bracers: +1 AP 9. Ricardo the Monkey: 1 Inventory Slot: Spellbook: Control Plants 10. Quiver: 17 arrows

Is it sad that the first thing I thought of when you said three weeks was just how expensive it might be?

Well this is an unexpected gift on this Monday morning.

Quim Giant or not, the dwarf was slowly succumbing being swallowed up by enemies. Quim knew he needed to jump in there and cut some of them down, but his hands were already pressing another bolt into his crossbow. A charge would have to wait one more moment. He brought it up and this time aimed for the sneaky cloaker still giving the dwarf too much hassle to be ignored. Worg The urge was too much. The Worg growled loud enough for it to echo off the back wall, albeit still not enough to be heard over the din of combat. Her tail whipped about in irritation. Then, without any indication of her desires, she set off. In four quick steps she was to the rocky basalt stone and climbing up it as fast as her four limbs would allow. Her destination were the long slender, enticing arms, of the robed skum. Show this Firing crossbow at rightmost Cloaker. Worg is aiming to hit N11 if possible.

Belfyr - Half-Elf Ranger AC: 15 | HP: 20/20 | HD: 3/3d10 | Initiative: +3 | Gathered Swarm | Favored Foe | Spell Slots: 1st 3/3 2nd -/- | DM Inspiration: 1/1 Pleased with his efforts to both avoid the hushed conversation of the two lovebirds and any unwanted passerby's attention, Belfyr pressed himself inside and out of the sun with a forced smile. When Iymbryl took the lead without much discussion, the forced smile turned into a real one. It was growing increasingly easier to like the rigidity of his guard captain companion with some of the expectations finally falling into place. He watched the encounter between the two stiff-collars, but he drew some amusement when he noticed the dwarf's nod and wink toward Anne. He hadn't noticed it himself, but now that it was pointed out to him; he drew the same conclusions. It wasn't a feather-encrusted breastplate which caught the eyes of every room and street walker between here and the Abyss, but it was a remarkably solid second place. "Before long, the whole city will be adorned!" He quietly jest before finding a wooden bench and taking a seat. Mechanics Main Hand: Quarterstaff Off Hand: Empty Action: Bonus Action: Your bonus action goes here. Move: Not moving Manipulate: Your one free object interaction goes here. Bookkeeping Full Statblock Half-Elf Ranger (Swarmkeeper) 3 NG AC 15 HP 20 Speed 30 ftft Str 14 (2) Dex 16 (3) Con 10 (0) Wis 14 (2) Int 10 (0) Cha 12 (1) Attacks Longbow Quarterstaff Half-Elf Features: Darkvision Fey Ancestry: Adv on saving throws vs charmed, Magic can’t put you to sleep. Skill Versatility: Persuasion, Survival Ranger Features Favored Foe: Tasha's pg 57 Natural Explorer: Fighting Style: Defense +1 to AC when worn Spellcasting Ranger Archetype: Swarmkeeper Gathered Swarm Swarmkeeper Magic: bonus Mage Hand, Faerie Fire Primeval Awareness: PHB Equipment Assets: 84 gp Carried/Worn Total for Pack o Longbow o Quiver w/20 arrows o Common Clothes o Studded Leather o Quarterstaff o Herbalism Kit o Mess Kit o Cooking Utensils Spell Casting Spell Save DC: 10 Spell Attack Mod: +2 Spells Known: Spell Slots: 1st 3/3 2nd 0/0 Cantrips Mage Hand 1st Level Faerie Fire Cure Wounds Goodberry Hunter's Mark 2nd Level

I suppose it's only fair that I answer the questions too, my bad for not doing it immediately. 1. How would your character feel if the party was split up? Especially if it was a last second thing where everyone couldn't plan it out beyond maybe a split-second Roland order? Being relatively immune to the current party dynamics, or at least he thinks he is, Wyck isn't concerned about not having 'eyes on' other members of the party all the time. 2. It's your PCs first time back inside city walls from the wild blue yonder, what's a non-negotiable thing they are doing given the first opportunity? What if the opportunity is ripped from their grasp before they can do it? General pleasantries of being in town instead of camping. But nothing terribly pressing. 4. Is the tension between party members going to boil over again or is it simmering for a few days? What's something your PC does to avoid letting it boil over, if they would like to see it not rear it's ugly head again just yet? Wyck is meant to have a positive disposition, so there isn't any intent to kick the beehive. However, maybe there's some minor -albeit miniscule- attempts to round off some of the sharp edges. 5. What's something another party member could do -small, simple, perhaps even without knowing they did it- that if this was a video game, your PC's screen would say: "Jim Bob liked that." after it happened? Watching people start to reveal more about themselves will never get old with Wyck. The more he knows about them, the more dominoes he sets up on the bigger picture and looks for connections.

Legacy: Mutagenic Fallout Event beneath Mutagenic Fallout, related. Sow, Reap, Waste It isn't long before some groups try to harness the mutagenic spores. Pop-up labs arrive almost monthly in the largest fallout areas with people looking to bend the will of the chaos seed to their own whims. Food and Pharma groups spin off effective heritage seeds for production. GMO stock on steroids. Any trace of Asian native crops are now spun up in hybrids, heritage seeds, or lost forever. This is a bad event.