(055) Wildwood/The Ivory Wold

[mgtremaine]

Wen would probably be swept up by the reaction as well forgetting his worries and weariness for the first time in a long time, happy to be filled with the sense of belonging and home. Eventually it would occur to him to speak about the others.

"As I delightful as this all is, I must remember that my companions are still on the edge of the Wold, hungry and afflicted. They are a brave and loyal group that circumstances have put me with. Several of them are ill, wounded, one is cursed, one has been touched by the unliving and one alas is dead. If you have not already sent scouts out I beg that you do so now to bring them here. Be aware that among them are Dieter Ogreslayer and Ulric Firestarter, the others are equally capable and unwavering." Wen pauses for a bit and gives his refreshments the attention they also deserve. He would give a brief description of each of the party members so that the Elves are informed he would even go so far as explaining the recent events.

"This group was upon a mission for the Sisters of Mercy and thus away from Ket when it fell. They are determined to enter Ket and contact the Sisters but before this plan could be carried out avery large force of Goblins and Wargs set upon us. There was pitched battle which was dearly won, we bear the body of are fallen friend Rufus Brandystoe. His death was a sore lose more so because he had directly knowledge of caverns below Ket by which we intended to enter Ket. Thus with no where else to turn I determined the Watchtower was the appropriate course of action. Whatever secrecy is required they will agree to."

[Tonneau]

Gustave's eyes wander ceaselessly, drinking in the myriad wonders as the pair follow their guides deeper into the wold.

"I had forgotten that your maidens were so fair my good Elf" he whispers to Wen en route.

Moving closer to Lólwen, and daring for a moment to appreciate her magnificent locks - perhaps even more shining than his own! - he asks in Elvish "My Lady, I see few of your people about than I would have thought from the legends of the Ivory Wold. Is something amiss, or do my petty human eyes deceive me?"

[danhem]

Ulric says nothing and remains completely still. He didn't need to reach for his weapons.

OOC: FYI Ways, I added Serayenon to Ulric's language list (1 more slot left untaken). Who knows what wonderful secrets they have to offer?

[waysoftheearth]

Southchase (The Main Company)

| Ref makes a reaction roll to see how the Elves respond... Josiane has 14 charisma, the PCs are generally cooperative, and they don't seem to be in league with goblins, so I'll add +1...

2d6+1=7 (six add one), a neutral response; the Elves are unmoved either way by the PCs' tales and supplications.

I'll assume from your previous posts that you'll generally go along with the Elves--if grumpily in some cases--without a fight. |

Dorgan counts a dozen of the Elves, who move efficiently to disarm the company members, most of whom are too exhausted and weary to offer much resistance.

"Save your tales for the Warder," says the patrol Captain in grim Illiberal, "She'll soon see the wisdom--or otherwise--of your activities.", and with this he gives Highbough a good long stare.

"For now you are at the Warder's disposal, and she would see you brought before her with all haste," continues the patrol Captain (again, in Illiberal).

And then he speaks in Elvish (for those learned in Serayenon, he says: "Round them up, and let's be getting on quickly; there are wargs on the loose yet,"
The elves obey briskly, and having disarmed the company and collected their meager collection of belongings, they quickly assemble stretchers on which the four sleeping men are arrayed, and their fellows made to bear them. The Elves carry the rest of the gear themselves.

Now the patrol Captain sends a pair of scouts further out into the Southchase to make sure there is nobody else loitering nearby, and to cover their retreat. As this pair lope off, the rest of the column sets off directly toward Wildwood at a brisk pace, and within another hour our weary heroes are pushing their way into the very woods themselves. Their Elvish escort is strict and non-talkative, but not cruel, but never do they stop nor let up the pace...

...the wildwood is verdant, and vibrant, and somehow eerie, yet they have little choice but to press on with their escort (or else attempt an escape?)...

[sully]

Dorgan thinks briefly of escape, feels the ache in his burned feet, and discards the notion out of hand. He'll be a good boy... for now.

[ehiker133]

Desmond figures at least carrying the back if the stretcher makes him useful...

[doctorx]

"We shall accompany you most willingly."

Josiane takes her position carrying the stretcher without complaint, though from a combination of wounds, illness, exhaustion and hunger, the poor girl must be nearly out on her feet by now...

[danhem]

As they march through the woods, Ulric speaks to the elf nearest him in Serayenon.

"My name is Ulric," he says. "Your woods are truly magnificent. They are welcome change from the wastes we have traveled. Just yesterday we all but destroyed a goblin raiding party out on the plains. But we have been without food for some time. Do you have any travel rations that you might share with us. Otherwise making it to your Warder may be difficult. We have a great deal of information to share on the goblins and Ket."

[mushgnome]

Highbough wordlessly complies.

[waysoftheearth]

Southwatch : Wen and Gustave

"You need not fear for your friends," replies Erendir as the four of you stride past the rampart wall and through the central lane of the little fortification and toward the great double doors of the Watch Tree--which are flung wide and unguarded "We have had eyes on them since first light; we thought you and they might be some foolish warband come looking for trouble!" He laughs happily, "Ha! Can you imagine it? Little Leuanwen come looking for trouble? It's delicious!"

Lólwen graces Gustave with a curiously raised eyebrow (a delight to behold) before replying "Haurelee is not all the Ivory Wold for a far stretch! We are a remote garrison--perhaps--but no less resolute for it."

But now they are almost upon the doorway, and begin to see the grand, living hall dwelling right at the base of Watch Tree--its vast roots twined about the hall like thick serpents that dive into the rich earth. Within is a wide, airy council chamber occupied by a large circular table surrounded by highbacked chairs. All the furniture within is fashioned from living plants, with leaves and flowers springing from every part. There are a number of glamorous elves dressed in great cloaks with a military bearing about them discussing business; and upon the High Seat, another Elvish Lady of straight silver hair cut at a jaunty angled fringe, and wearing a thorny wreath of berries and tiny white flowers.

"Erendir! Lólwen!" She hails as our four cross the threshold (the other half dozen Elves keeping a close eye on the new-comers--particularly Gustave who is armed and in his full war harness) "Come! Have these journeymen introduce themselves and made welcome in our hall so that they might then share a good repast!"