Somewhere within Wildwood : Wen and Gustave
| A perfectly good time for a reaction check! I will adjust their reaction by +1 because Wen is a Lawful Elf, and +1 because he offers something useful to them--namely some potentially uptodate intelligence...
And now the rolling part...
2d6+2=12!! (double 5s add 2) An enthusiast response |
"Leuanwen? That is you!" says another excited voice (in Elvish of course), and another, then another burst out of the woods, seemingly from all around, hurrying by the stern captain (who delays a moment, mainting his stern face, then shrugs and joins the others with a laugh).
And suddenly the weary pair are surround by laughing and babbling Elves who hustle them off their awkward, stoney path and--laughing and singing and offering wineskins--onto a narrow trail that curls about the forested hillock via a much easier way.
"You really do choose the most difficult route, Leuanwen," scalds one with a laugh,
"You haven't got any taller," titters a gorgeous maid among them,
"Nearly there!" cries one another, skipping and dancing aournd them as the Elves break out into a song on the move...
O! Now! Where are you going?
Your packs need a-filling,
Your legs need a-resting,
The Wold is a-sing-ing!
Tra-la-la-la-leeee,
O! Now! What are you doing?
Your foes are a-flying,
Your wineskins a-drying,
The Wold is a-dancing!
Tril-il-il-a-laaa,
And so on and so forth and so be, until both their (hunger and fatigue affected) heads are spinning with such laughter and nonsense!
And this is how they at last came to the Elvish watchtower known as
Haurelee (or, translated into Illiberal for your benefit: Southwatch). In the final quarter mile, most of the dozen or so Elves who had accompanied them on their merry little climb wave goodbye and return to their own duties, leaving our weary pair with an escort of just two Elves; Erendir (the warder who originally challenged them) and Iólwen--a (relatively) serious elf-maid with plaited autumn hair.
"Come Leuanwen," says Erendir,
"You and your man look famished, let us impose upon the Warden's hospitality! I'm sure she will be eager to learn your tidings--but we are not so uncivilised here that we would have you expiring of hunger or thirst!"
And the two Elves lead
Wen and
Gustave into the tiny holding of Southwatch.
It is positioned ideally at the top of a rocky hillock, and well shielded by a dense thicket of trees and undergrowth. These are supplemented with a further rampart of great mossy logs and brambles so that the whole of it is extremely difficult to approach, except by the single-file, winding trail the Elves use. And even this is exposed to whomever holds the higher ground above it.
The "watchtower" itself is in fact a great, sprawling tree that supports a number of suspended platforms; these--and others like them in nearby trees--being interconnected by rope bridges and gantries.
Wen is accustomed to this, but
Gustave is mildly surprised to see that several of the largest trees seem to accommodate halls and dwellings within their living trucks!
They spy a number of Elves posted high up in the canopy, overlooking the surrounds of the Ivory Wold, and these wave or nod, and look on with interest at the two visitors, but in truth there are rather fewer Elves about than they might have hoped. Perhaps they are all out and about their business in the wood?