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Party 10

Abrahms

One Thousand Club
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Life has a strange way of working things out, solving problems you never even knew were going to be a concern. Unsure where your next meal was going to come from? Well, some bloke down the street needs a basement cleared of rats and is willing to pay in copper for each one removed. Where are you going to sleep tonight? A stable a block over is reporting it's haunted, if you deal with it, the stablemaster will let you stay in the loft, out of the rain.

Here and there, things have worked out for better or worse across your individual lives, yet something has always felt as if it was waiting just beyond the next horizon, perhaps preparing you, perhaps merely toying with you, always out of reach. At least at some point you weren't alone in trying to figure out what that strange thing was, that driving force that taunted each of you everyday, an unspoken desire to go ... somewhere. But where? Even if offered a map, you wouldn't know where to point or even a general direction.

Banding together as a group, sharing the same unspoken restlessness, you've been moderately successful in your endeavors, collecting a small amount of renown in the town of Daggerford where you found yourselves staring at a poster that requested aid in dealing with werewolves.

"Werewolves in the mist!" You've heard these dreaded words spoken again and again by farmers, merchants, and adventurers alike as you've traveled the local area. The hamlets east of Daggerford have fallen prey to a pack of werewolves that spills out of the Misty Forest on nights of the full moon, cloaked in crawling mist that seems to follow them wherever they go. The beasts spread death and mayhem, slaughtering adults and stealing children before retreating back into the woods. Others have tried to combat the werewolf menace, with little success. Thus where your group comes in, hopefully, where others have failed. The local blacksmith offered aid in silvering one weapon before the group left, and an ex-adventurer who believed in the group offered an old scroll of Remove Curse, commenting he was fairly sure it would still work. Fairly sure.

Preparing supplies and following the tracks left behind either physically or from claims and witnesses of the mist-cloaked werewolves, you all head out early in the day, expecting to catch the beasts unaware and weakened in the daylight, yet the further you head into the woods the darker it seems to get. Almost too quickly, even for being a forest where treetops and branches soon blot out the sky. Trees seem to become more imposing and menacing, sounds of the woods slowly fade away as the area grows quiet and almost ... dare one think it, deathly still, the only sound your footsteps, your breathing, the rustle of armor and gear from your movements ... Your breath starts to hover in the air before you, a faint shiver -- how can it be so cold? It was a pleasant spring day before, and now a thick mist surrounds your vision, making it difficult to tell which direction you're going -- which way did you even come? Have you all just been wandering in circles? For how long? Hours? Or mere minutes?

Finally a new noise -- the sound of a crunch ... a dirt road leading on-wards through the mist sits before you all ...



 

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Standing on the dirt path, Daermir glance around looking at the trees and mist all surrounding him and his friends. He eyes the path in both directions, noting if there is any differences with the path from either direction. Crouching down he grabs a bit of the dirt path in his hand before letting it fall back to the ground. Standing back up, he looks ahead into the mist, blocking the view of whatever is in-front on them along the path.
"Werewolves they say, shouldn't be too bad, just a bunch of wolves except tougher."
Bring his arms closer to his body, he shivers as his breath is caught in the air.
"The mist is the most annoying part of this adventure. I am not ready for this cold."
Looking back at his friends.
"If anyone else got any other ideals, may as well see what down this path."
 

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