Session 1: The Staff

[GM Saint]

 Empress sat on her perch and watched the human hunters prepare their bizarre ritual. Humans were a very strange sort of beast. They were very dangerous hunters - she'd seen them take prey many times their size - but they had the oddest ritual where they tear the insides out of their prey and spend a great deal of time spinning it's flesh atop a fire before they eat it. She'd eaten small game left behind from the fires before and it wasn't very satisfying.

 

  These men were far from home. Humans moved around her domain quite a bit but they tended to stay in large groups near their nests. Lately, she was observing more and more humans ranging far away in search of prey. They didn't seem to understand what was changing in the world. She considered telling Omnus, the old man who lived near the lake. Druids were the only tolerable humans and Omnus rewarded her with the most savory of fish when she shared the things she saw from her vantage in the sky.

 

 It was Omnus who gave her her name. Empress, because this was the Vale of some old magic emperor and because the humans, he told her, called her kind 'emperor eagles.' It was a clever name. She decided to go share what she knew. The humans were in danger and that meant Omnus was in danger so she should tell... her eyes spotted a fat jackrabbit. It was a little big but she'd eat most of it and she had chicks that would need tending soon. Her attention zeroed in on the rabbit, her blood began to race, she dove from her perch. It had no idea she was coming. It'd be dead before it even knew it was in da...

 

*****

 

   ..."I'll be damned," the hunter said, quickly grabbing his bow as a large jackrabbit bolted into the clearing. It seemed to be in some kind of panic but he'd worry about that after. Berries with some onion soup wasn't an appealing dinner, not with rabbit on the menu. He got the arrow off just in time before the rabbit cleared the camp and escaped into the bush. "Meats in the soup boys!"

 Hunting around the town had been scarce lately so they'd taken to ranging out a few days from town in order to find more game. Well cured meat would help a lot over the winter, even if  jerky wasn't the more interesting option. The town could always fish but there weren't enough boats to feed the whole area so they relied on hunting and trapping. Even those raising livestock found their herds thin these days, with something stealing animals away without a trace.

 

 They celebrated the kill. It wasn't enough meat for four grown men but it was better than soup. They'd be most of tomorrow travelling out a bit further to hunt. There was game to be had closer to town but gthe herds were too thin and the population would collapse if they killed any of them now. Ranging out farther gave them some hope numbers would recover next year.

 

   

   

Edited October 31, 2022 by GM Saint (see edit history)

[GM Saint]

@Knave @TheGospel

 

 Aaliyah! You kneel near the odd weapon laying on the ground. It was the strangest thing you'd ever seen. A staff, the size and shape of a quarterstaff, but made entirely out of smooth metal. It was a single, uniform piece of a metal you've never seen before. Polished to a mirror finish, there wasn't so much as a divot or marking, not the tiniest blemish in this strange weapon. Heavier than it's wooden counterpart, it's difficult to imagine how someone would wield it the same way.

 

 You were a couple days away from any towns with Empyrean's Rest being the closest. The journey from eastern frontiers of the Vale, the area least tamed, had found you on this game trail and the strange discovery. The staff was laying near a large spraying of blood, as if it's wielder had been torn to pieces nearby but there was no sign of a body or, indeed, even any pieces of a body. Nor was there any sign of a predator. The canopy above you was full of life, chirping birds and small rodents hopping around the branches. This much noise didn't lend itself to the idea that a large predator was nearby.

 

  Ved! The time had come to make a bit of extra coin and there just so happened to be a job that only needed you to chase some men down, deliver a message, and help expedite their return. A week ago, four men had left town on a long hunting trip. One of them had left a pregnant wife behind and she'd just delivered a full month early. Thankfully, a Gardener in town had been a midwife and was able to save both mother and child but she dearly needed her husband right now. Mayor Creed had sympathetically offered fifty gold to someone willing to fetch the man and see him home so he can meet his son.

 

 You knew the area they were going to hunt. While not the best tracker, you knew your way around the woods and the men wouldn't be covering their trail. You were confident your skills could find the men quickly or, at the very least, make sure they found you. It's midday now and by your reckoning you should be in the right area now to start looking for the signs of hunters nearby when you spot some rats fleeing something. The rodents were easy to startle but this many together meant things to scavenge. Perhaps the remains of a recent kill by a band of lucky hunters?

 

 Heading that direction, you immediately spot something man sized in the shadows not too far away...

 

 Aaliyah! You hear a twig snap nearby and turn to see a man not far away, moving your direction...

 

 You're up!

[GM Saint]

@Rumrunner

 

   Things were wrong near Lake Empyrean. Herds were thin, livestock was going missing and no one knew why it was happening. The Sheriff investigated, the mayor had investigated and they'd even had an old cleric who lived on a farm a few miles away with his son come and consult. There was no sign of a large predator, no blood or remains at all and no sign of theft. Something beyond the mundane was plaguing the area.

 

 The winter was going to be lean this year already. Meat was scarce and the town didn't have enough boats to increase fishing traffic. The mayor had sent word out west to the border towns and south to Valefort that there was coin to be made in Empyrean's Rest and grain and rice was going to be delivered before the snows began in a few months. It was too late in the year to start expanding agricultural efforts so the town would shed some weight but it would survive. 

 

 The real concern was after the winter. If things got more scarce, it could take more than a year for populations to recover and that was assuming the cause of the problem was solved. The town was a fair size but it simply couldn't afford to build the two dozen boats it'd need to transition to entirely fishing for food, assuming the Lake could even support that effort. The mayor put out a bounty of five hundred gold - no one was brave enough to ask how he had that much coin on hand - to the person, or persons, who discovered the source of the missing animals.

 

 So there you were, combing the woods around town, seeking... something. Some clue as to what you were looking for. At this point, you had only one lead; a druid named Omnus who lived a few days away from the town, not far from the coast of the lake. No one else lived this way though so it was dangerous as there were creatures out here who didn't see man as a threat to them.

 

 On your way, you catch the scent of fresh blood. Man blood... when you approach it, if you approach it, you'll find a man approaching a woman who seems quite alarmed at his existence...

 

 OOC: I'll assume you're shapeshifted at the moment, thus the scent.

Edited October 31, 2022 by GM Saint (see edit history)

[Knave]

---

Name: Ved Kith (AKA Kirit)  |  Class: Fighter 3 

AC: 16+1 | HP: 36/36 | Hit dice: 3/3d10

SR Abilities: SDice: 4/4d8; DC 13 | Action surge 1/1 | 2nd Wind 1/1

Attacks Rapier +5 1d8+3
Light crossbow 80/320 +5 1d6+3 | Saves Str +3 | Dex +3 | Con +4 | Wis +1 | Int -1 | Cha +0; | Maneuvers Precision attack | Menacing attack | Trip attack | DC 13;

 

---

 

"Hello there!" Ved stops a good way short of the woman and shows empty hands, though his eyes are moving quickly. The scene doesn't look great, to say the least. But nothing to do with him. Best to focus on the job at hand, and hope to get away without getting involved. 

 

 

"Have you seen a party of four hunters in the last few days? I'm delivering a message."

 

Edited October 31, 2022 by Knave (see edit history)

[TheGospel]

Name Aaliyah | Class Warlock | Level: 3| AC: 17 | HP: 28/28 | Prof: +2	Stats: Str -1 / Dex +2 / Con +1 / Int +1 / Wis +0 / Cha +4
Special Abilities Hexblade's Curse [o]	Attacks: Leaf | +6 | 1d8 slash/pierce - Thorn | +7 | 1d8+1 piercing
Cantrips: Eldritch Blast, Spells Known	Magic Items: Healing Potion x2
Spell DC: 14 | Spell Attack +6 Spell Slots: [o][o]

Aaliyah hears the twig snap and her head bolts up, hand going behind her back to the sword tucked into her belt. She sees it's a person, a man, and stands up straight. "Oh, hello. Is this staff yours?" she calls cheerily, entirely too casual with a total stranger though she kept her hand behind her back on the hidden weapon.

 

  She's tall for an elf but not exceedingly so. Her clothes consisted of a short dress made entirely of large, soft and flexible leaves that clung tight to her figure and thigh high boots with soft leather soles and a matching leaf pattern above it. She had a pack sitting nearby with a heavy fur cloak on it for the colder months. Her skin was fair like the soft light of the moon that made her forest green hair really stand out. That same hair hung halfway down her back with fines of tiny flowers braided into it.

 

 It's difficult to tell her age. She looks about eighteen by human reckoning but the points of her ears may betray her.

[Knave]

---

Name: Ved Kith (AKA Kirit)  |  Class: Fighter 3 

AC: 16+1 | HP: 36/36 | Hit dice: 3/3d10

SR Abilities: SDice: 4/4d8; DC 13 | Action surge 1/1 | 2nd Wind 1/1

Attacks Rapier +5 1d8+3
Light crossbow 80/320 +5 1d6+3 | Saves Str +3 | Dex +3 | Con +4 | Wis +1 | Int -1 | Cha +0; | Maneuvers Precision attack | Menacing attack | Trip attack | DC 13;

 

---

 

The man took a single step forward. He was mostly human, but clearly had a mixed lineage of some sort. Scarred and bearded, everything about him was well-worn: his armour, his boots, the hilts of his swords, even the skin of his face all spoke to hard usage over many years. 

 

"Staff? What?" Ved looks in the direction indicated. "Oh yes. Er. Looks magical. Nothing to do with me, although I've seen a few on my travels, but I'm no expert."

 

Ved was curious about this elven woman with the dark green hair, on her own in the woods. But experience told him to be on his guard. He still doesn't approach, but looks around the area carefully for any sign of ambush.

 

 

 

Edited October 31, 2022 by Knave (see edit history)

[GM Saint]

@Diofant @Hammerfist @WolfBirch

 

  The fire had managed to not spread but it was still burning, a metal pot hanging over it. Some kind of stew had been here at one point but the water had long since evaporated and the remains were just smoldering. Around this fire were packs that had already been rummaged through by local scavengers as well as unstrung bows and sleeping gear. There was no sign of the campers and leaving a camp unattended like this is the mark if either someone dangerously incompetent or...

 

  Specter! Barkvin! The two of you met just an hour ago on the road, coming from different directions but both heading towards Empyrean's Rest. You each had your own reasons for traveling and the road forced you to keep company for a bit. So you were together when the smell of ash catches your nose, leading you away from the road and to the strangely abandoned camp.

 

 Murdain! Having volunteered to take the road north to Exile's Pass, a border town on the northern most edge of the Vale, you spot two men in the distance suddenly stop and wander off the road. As you draw closer, you smell old burnt meat and ash coming from that direction. You were supposed to deliver messages to an innkeeper there to pass word along that Empyrean's Rest was willing to buy stable foodstocks in bulk and that caravans were welcome. It wasn't an urgent message though.

[Hammerfist]

---

Name Specter | Class Bard 3 | AC: 14 | HP: 27/27 | Prof: +2 | PP: 13 | Saves: Str -1 / Dex +4 / Con +1 / Int +0 / Wis +1 / Cha +5

Special Abilities Bardic Inspiration 3/Day, Song of Rest, Tales | Attacks: Rapier | +4 | 1d8+2 Piercing

Cantrips: Guidance (class), Minor Illusion, Vicious Mockery  Memorized Spells | Spell DC: 13 | Spell Attack +5

Level 1 | ▣ ▣ ▣ ▣ | Command, Dissonant Whispers, Faerie Fire, Tashas's Hideous Laughter
Level 2 | ▣ ▣  | Aid, Suggestion

---

 

It was nights like these that Specter was happy that his great great grandmother fancied demonic suitors, because he didn't know WHAT anyone did if they couldn't see in the dark.

 

Most of the time, 'twas a royal pain in the arse.  People usually spat at you as you walked by.  Kids yanked your tail, at least the ones whose mothers hadn't hidden them underneath her skirts until you passed by.  Drunks always picked a fight with you, and the ignorant folks with the torches and pitchforks often found ways to blame you for all their problems. 

 

And that was a GOOD night.

 

But anyway, seeing in the dark.  That was lovely.  Not that it changed much, since 'twas Specter's nose that was leading him and his new companion, who had NOT yet decided to set him on fire, to see what in blazes smelled so good.  Specter had a feeling that this group might want to roast him over the fire, too, but thankfully when you've spent your life this way, you learn to be rather good with words.  Specter could talk his way out of almost anything, and into more things than he cared to admit.  Most Tieflings didn't have his level of money or success, such as they were, and he didn't take it all for granted.

 

Well, he somewhat did.  But not as much as you'd think.

 

"Well, Barkvin, looks to me like someone has something lovely for dinner.  Let's see if they've any room for a pair of ruffians out on the cold, hard road.  I'm sure I can make us sound like dear sweet folks in search of sustenance for our noble and holy quest."

 

 

 

[Rumrunner]

Souris Garou (as Direwolf)

---

AC: 14 | HP: 37/37 | Prof: +2 |  PP: 16 (21 hearing and scent)

SavesStr +3 / Dex +2 / Con +2 / Int +3 / Wis +6 / Cha +0 | Special AbilitiesPack Tactics, Keen Hearing and Smell(adv), Telepathic  | Attacks Bite | +6 | 2d6+3 Piercing (DC13 Str vs prone)

---

This was not the first time she had come upon such a scene, she wished it was, but simply because the Vale offered second chances, didn't mean that those who came here suddenly became virtuous.   Her fur was white, but not gleaming, like spring snow that was beginning to reveal the dust and dirt that had settled in and like the Vale had little to do with virtue either.  It was hard to pick up social cues at this distance, what she could smell was blood and then he took a single step forward, that was enough to keep her from hesitating. 

 

A massive wolf near the size of a horse burst into the clearing and leapt between the man and woman, then with a low growl in her throat, a voice then projected into the mind of the man.  It was a female voice, that was tense with suspicion. ~Lay down your arms slowly and speak your intentions clearly, my patience is a scarce as the meat in these woods~ 

 

With a glance back at the woman, who she could now see clearly was a rather beautiful green haired elf.  The wolf gave a slight nod.  At this proximity, the elven woman's rather seductive appearance and casual demeanor made the shapeshifter worry that perhaps she was interrupting something consensual... and be more than a little grateful for the fact that wolves could not blush.  

[GM Saint]

@Hammerfist

 

 To clarify, its midday and you are already at the abandoned camp.

[Diofant]

Murdain Shattershield

---

Class Rogue(Soulknife) 3 | AC: 14 | HP: 30/30 | Prof: +2 | Init: +3 | PP: 14 | Speed: 30ft 

SavesStrength: +0
Dexterity: +5
Constitution: +2
Intelligence: +1
Wisdom: +2
Charisma: -1 | Special AbilitiesDarkvision 60ft
Sneak Attack: 2d6
Cunning Action: Bonus to Dodge, Dash, Hide.
Psionic Power: 4d6, LR. Recharge 1/SR as a Bonus Action
Psi-Bolstered Knack: Add Psionic Die, expend on success only, when failing Ability Check or Tool with Prof.
Psychic Whispers: Telepathy for 1d6 hours, 1mile. Prof target +you. Action. Free 1st time.
Psychic Blades: 1d6/1d4. Simple [Light] Melee Finesse Thrown. Range 60ft. | AttacksPsionic Blade | +5 | 1d6+3 Psychic / 60
Psionic Dagger | +5 | 1d4+3 Psychic / 60
Shortsword | +5 | 1d8+3 Slashing
Dagger | +5 | Piercing / 20/60
Shortbow | +5 | 1d6+3 Piercing / 80/320 | SpellsShadow-Touched:
Invisibility 1/LR
Disguise Self 1/LR | ToolsThieves Tools: +5
Woodcarver's Tools: +5 | Skills+Athletics: +2
+Acrobatics: +5
++Stealth: +7
Sleight of Hand: +3
Arcana: +1
Nature: +1
History: +1
Religion: +1
+Investigation +3
Animal Handling: +2
Medicine +2
Insight +2
+Perception: +4
Survival: +2
++Deception: +3
Performance: -1
Intimidation: -1
Persuasion: -1

---

 ConditionsNone | Death SavesFailed: 0/3
Succeeded: 0/3 | Hit Dice3d8: 0 Used.

---

Murdain enjoyed running errands. Out here, it meant he could spend time in quiet contemplation, without speaking, and simply enjoy the landscape. Nature was peaceful, didnt judge you, and you could survive if you knew what to do. Which... he didnt. That was also why he did NOT like the outdoors. For one, concluded Murdain, pulling a thorn out of his pant leg, you stood out like a sore thumb. No getting lost in a crowd out here. Meet a bear? Well, not like you can clap it on the back and buy it a beer, convince it to go away. Ate a mushroom? Well, certainly hope it was the right mushroom, or else you'll at best be getting some interesting nicknames, at worst be returning to the earth in a short bit. And the bugs. Always something out there trying to sting you or bite you. He waved off a wasp, adjusting the pack on his shoulder. But it was pretty. He did miss the smells - Mrs. Ardit's cherry pie, old Bert's bread... Someone back there was cooking strew. He'd seen two men along the road, suddenly changing course and walking off it. Strange. Are they... Thinking of ambushing him, perhaps? Unlikely. But couldnt hurt to be careful. Still, the fresh scent of cut wood and lit fireplaces... Fireplaces? The dwarf inhaled, furrowing eyebrows, and followed in the same direction as the other two. He'd considered creeping forward and checking first, but decided to simply join them. If it was an ambush, well... There were ways out. "Pardon me...? I smelled the campfire - are you by chance amendable to selling some food?" Food was an easy excuse. Not like someone would poison a rabbit, neither. Hospitality could be a shield. 

Edited November 1, 2022 by Diofant (see edit history)

[TheGospel]

Name Aaliyah | Class Warlock | Level: 3| AC: 17 | HP: 28/28 | Prof: +2	Stats: Str -1 / Dex +2 / Con +1 / Int +1 / Wis +0 / Cha +4
Special Abilities Hexblade's Curse [o]	Attacks: Leaf | +6 | 1d8 slash/pierce - Thorn | +7 | 1d8+1 piercing
Cantrips: Eldritch Blast, Spells Known	Magic Items: Healing Potion x2
Spell DC: 14 | Spell Attack +6 Spell Slots: [o][o]     "Hello friend," she exclaimed when the large wolf came into view. Her senses extended outwards and she cheerily placed a hand on her head to scratch it     "Aren't you a beautiful den mom? Don't be afraid, this man is just looking for his friends." She touches the wolf's nose and says and makes a "boop" sound.     Ooc: she activates her speak with animals. I know she doesn't need to but she doesn't know it.

[Knave]

---

Name: Ved Kith (AKA Kirit)  |  Class: Fighter 3 

AC: 16+1 | HP: 36/36 | Hit dice: 3/3d10

SR Abilities: SDice: 4/4d8; DC 13 | Action surge 1/1 | 2nd Wind 1/1

Attacks Rapier +5 1d8+3
Light crossbow 80/320 +5 1d6+3 | Saves Str +3 | Dex +3 | Con +4 | Wis +1 | Int -1 | Cha +0; | Maneuvers Precision attack | Menacing attack | Trip attack | DC 13;

 

---

 

Ved's first thought as the huge wolf came bounding into view was that this was the ambush he has suspected all along. The elven lady was the bait, and the wolf was the trap. Both swords came whistling out of their sheaths in an instant.

 

But then, it didn't seem to go that way. He circled sideways, looking for better ground, better positioning, assessing the situation.

 

"I won't put them down. But I'll show good faith and put them away."

 

With an uncanny speed, the blades are sheathed once more, though Ved's hands remain upon the hilts. He waits, and watches.

[Rumrunner]

 Souris Garou (as Direwolf)

---

AC: 14 | HP: 37/37 | Prof: +2 |  PP: 16 (21 hearing and scent)

SavesStr +3 / Dex +2 / Con +2 / Int +3 / Wis +6 / Cha +0 | Special AbilitiesPack Tactics, Keen Hearing and Smell(adv), Telepathic  | Attacks Bite | +6 | 2d6+3 Piercing (DC13 Str vs prone)

---

Being large and ferocious usually meant often she got her way, most people gave her a wide berth and rarely looked her in the eye.  This man had his blades out in a blink ready to fight, but he retracted them just as quickly.  It was fair enough, laying your throat bare to a stranger was idiocy, at least he was no idiot.  This elfess caught her by surprise though, using magic that gave her an strange feeling, as if she was understanding what the young woman was saying in two ways at once.  Her touch was nice, she had been trying to get that spot and... did the elf just boop her snoot?

 

Giving a sidelong glance at the elf, though not really trusting that she wasn’t being played a fool by this fellow, she swung her large head back towards the swordsman.  She sniffed, then tilted her head curiously. “..rrR?” The blood smell wasn’t coming from him.  She sniffed again, her scent honing in on the blood spray near a strange metal staff.  Pawing at it the shapeshifter tried to get a sense for what the staff was, what the blood was from, and how it was killed to leave this sort of splatter.

 

[GM Saint]

@Rumrunner @Knave

 

 The blood is a few hours old and mostly dry by now. There's a considerable amount on the tree and the large leaves of the nearby bushes. The bugs on the ground reveal where the rest of it has soaked in.

 

 The staff is as described. An extremely clean metal bar that weighs twice as much as a quarterstaff, shined to a mirrored finish.