Run by: Myrana

PCs: Irial, Nin-galad

Encounter: Brown Bear

Death_OK (for what its worth)

Early morning shines down through the forest canopy like a hundred ghostly gold coins scattered down amid the branches to land light as air upon the leaves of undergrowth and mossy paths. The smell of clay loam and distant wood-smoke fill the air, thick with the buzzing of cicadas.
ooc While I get my papers together, would you two mind posing what you're up to? It's just out in the woods.
 
        The early morning finds Irial cleaning his blade. A cloth moves over the metal edges as he polishes it to a shine. A soft tune hanging upon his lips the younger of the two elves seeming to enjoy preparing his weapon for the tasks which will lay ahead. <elven>

Nin-galad is currently laid out along his left side at the base of the large oak tree, his elbow planted against the ground and his hand used to support his head. A foot or so in front of the High Elf is a merrily crackling fire, and in his right hand is a stick with a fish skewered upon it. "I am getting horribly sick of fish," he remarks quietly to himself as he stares at the cooking creature on the end of the stick with half-lidded eyes. Relaxing in his usual early-morning attire consisting only of leather pants, the rest of his outfit sits nearby along with all his usual weaponry. For the moment, however, it is merely breakfast time.
 
        Irial smiles looking over towards Nin-Galad, "Then perhaps we should hunt within the forest for a hare or three?" he smiles rising to his feet sheathing his sword as he moves closer to the other now, "Could possibly sell the skins for some coins to spend in the city while you gather more information."
 
As if to horribly interrupt this idyllic scene, a sound slowly becomes apparrant. Footsteps crashing through the undergrowth, harried breath and a great rattling, as if of a tinker's cart growing closer. The bushes shake, then violently spit out a terrified looking Gnome. He collapses to the ground, panting and sobbing in frustration as any number of metal tools and odd thingamabobbers go falling out of his open knapsack and onto the ground.
 

"That's not a bad idea. Perhaps a deer, even. Sell the hide, buy some salt and preserve the devil out of the meat that doesn't get cooked." He idly turns the stick over as he speaks, a lazy expression still painted across his face as he watches the flames lick at the fish. "I'm not horribly fond of salted meat, but it's good for particularly long hikes."

At this point, the Gnome makes his appearance. The sleepy-look vanishes from Nin-galad as he drops the stick into the fire, dropping onto his stomach as he reaches out to pull both a particularly wicked looking shortsword from its sheathe as well as a dagger. A quick push and he's on his barefeet in an instant, sword held poised before him and the dagger cocked over his shoulder and ready to be thrown. "What exactly is going on, here?"

        Irial's gaze moves to the gnome as well, much like Nin-Galad his relaxed posture is lost as a Sylanori warrior takes its place. His gaze moving through the trees searching for signs of trouble. His eyes parting through the darkness as he seeks out any who may be following after the gnome. The blade in his hand remaining sheathed... for the moment.

 
"Buh--b... Help!" Gasps the poor Gnome. The little fat fellow is really quite out of sorts, tears running down his leaf-slapped red face. He looks at the two elves in astonishment and then at their weapons in a new terror. "OH! Oh please don't hurt me!" His hands tremble over the scattered tools and doohickeys, wanting to pick them out of the dirt but not daring move just yet. "I was-- It was terrible! My assistant's been carried off! Oh please help me!"

Nin-galad tilts his head slightly as he regards the gnome for a passing second before placing his weapons upon the ground and moving about to snatch up the rest of his clothing. "Tell us what's happened," he intones as a dark silk shirt is pulled over his head and swiftly followed by his leather jerkin. "By who, to where, how long ago and why?" His boots are already laced as he finished speaking, and is in the process of restrapping all the sheathed weapons to his body.

        Likewise Irial moves to gather up his cloak and bow, "Be quick and we may be able to gather him back. The longer the delay the harder it will be to track him." Irial falls silent as he closes his eyes for a moment.

<OOC> Irial is taking three rounds to use commune with nature. :)
 
"It was-- it was a terrible beast!" Sobs the little Gnome. Overwrought, he tries to get more out, but dissolves only more thoroughly into hiccoughing and tears. It quickly becomes clear that he has become utterly hysteric, and only manages to point back the way he came.
 
<OOC> Irial says, "Caster level is 3 so 3 miles. As the gnome spills the beans I'll be asking nature these three facts for the three miles around me."
<OOC> Myrana says, "Which three?"

The sword is resheathed with a heavy shuck sound, Nin-galad's gloved hand resting on the hilt as puts the boot to a nearby bucket of water and douses the flames instantly. A quick bit of footwork, and the entire pit has been scoured from existence with only a single pause by Nin to pick up the stick and fish and hurl them off into the stream a small distance away. "I don't think he's got a head on his shoulders to tell us anything useful, let's move quickly." It is all Nin-galad has time to offer as he begins to move swiftly in the direction the gnome came from, though he does look back over his shoulder and prepares to wait for Irial if need be.
 
<OOC> Myrana says, "Or you could ask in a pose X)"
<OOC> Irial doesn't know what to ask yet, "Depends on what the Gnome says. If he says he was attacked by orcs, his assistant was a gnome I'll be asking about orcs with gnomes. :)
<OOC> Irial says, "If his assistant was a pony I'll call him a freak (and look for ponies)."
 <OOC> Myrana says, "He said 'It was a terrible beast' and then collapsed into sobbing X)"
 <OOC> Myrana says, "So do you ask about animals? Anything else?"
<OOC> Irial says, "animal population, gnomes in the area, and orcs. Always on the look out for orcs to avoid. :)"
 
        There is a pause from Irial as he continues to focus, "A moment brother I seek out knowledge from the forest. For it to tell me things which may aid us find his companion or of this creature. I do not wish for us to be caught unawares." <elven>
 
<OOC> Myrana says, "Lots of the animals have been driven from the area by the army and the bloodgunni. There are animals that're too slow to really migrate willy nilly though, or animals that can hide, or just stay out of people's way are still around. Small (for this area) numbers of birds, squirrels, badgers, bears, ground-birds like pheasants, wild goats, hedgehogs, fish, insects.... a few deer are around, but they're quite far from the city, etc. There are plenty of orcs within 3 miles. I mean plenty. There's at least 5 Gnomes within 3 miles."
<OOC> Irial says, "Any gomes in the direction he pointed, or wild dangerous animals?"
<OOC> Irial says, "Or orcs!"
<OOC> Nin-galad waits to see how this plays out.
 <OOC> Myrana says, "Within three miles? Yes."
<OOC> Irial says, "How close?"
 <OOC> Myrana says, "Just a little under 3 miles away for the gnomes."
 <OOC> Myrana says, "There are more than in just one direction, but there is one in that direction."
<OOC> Irial is trying to get some focused infomation, "You mentioned there are 5 gnomes, but not where, you mentioned there are osme dangerous creatures by the gnomes, but I do not know where the gnomes are, you mentioned there are orcs eveywhere (A given). So basically if I were to suddenly become one with nature and talk to every tree at once looking for some gnomes and wild animals what would I see? I'm a little confused with the answers.
<OOC> Myrana says, "I wasn't prepared with exact distances is why."
 <OOC> Myrana says, "You are sensing a 3 mile radius, right?"
<OOC> Irial nods.
<OOC> Irial says, "So in the direction the gnome came from there is a gnome and a wild beast fairly close, far away, very very very far away?"
 <OOC> Myrana says, "So, in the direction that the gnome pointed in, there is a gnome a little under 3 miles away. There are dangerous creatures within 3 miles of you, such as badgers and bears and deer. There aren't any right on top of that gnome though."
<OOC> Irial says, "But no dangerous creatures near the gnome?"
 <OOC> Myrana says, "Right."
 <OOC> Myrana says, "Keep in mind, you're near an occupied city full of dangerous creatures and orcs and they send out hunters and scouts and so on. ^^"

        "I am unsure what it is he is speaking of." Irial says to Nin-Galad, "From the way he came there is no gnomes for less than 2 miles, one almost three..." he frowns, "Near that gnome there is no wild beast nor orc."
 
One arm pushes a smattering bushes out of the way as Nin-galad half-exits the general area of the camp. He pauses, however, as he waits for Irial to complete whatever exactly it is that he is doing. When Irial speaks up again, Nin-galad lifts an eyebrow and remains in place for a passing moment. "Two miles?" He echoes, looking down at the portly thing laying on the ground in front of him and immediately doubt that it possessed the physicla wherewithall to sprint two miles while screaming. He turns back into the camp area proper, reaching down with long arms and a shocking amount of strength for a body so slender. The gnome is lifted bodily from the forest floor and given a mild shake, "Two miles, master Gnome? You ran two miles while screaming?"
 
Nin-galad looks away for a moment and then sets the poor fellow back down upon the ground. Whether or not he can stand is his own perogative, "Nevermind. Let's just go, and if he's lying we'll come back and gut him later." Immediately he turns away and begins to sprint, darting off in the direction the gnome had came from.

        Iral nods his head and follows along after the high elf, "However I do not believe killing him will be okay. Perhap making him hunt and gather some of the hares you wanted, But death is not an answer to everything." he sighs, "I only wish my powers worked within the city. It is a reason why I do not like them so. Being unable to sense others... it makes me feel naked."

 
A mile and a half or so of forest whips by the pair of you as you hurry along the path blazed by the poor portly Gnome as he ran sobbing through the undergrowth, snapping twigs and crushing plantlife in his wake. It's easy to follow for sharp eyes and wary feet.
 
 Eventually, you come to a small clearing where a wagon has been turned upon its side, spilling tinker's tools and wares everywhere, in addition to a battered-looking crossbow and some scattered bolts stuck into trees in every direction. Blood spatters the ground here, and enormous tracks. The signs of something being dragged continues off in vaguely the same direction...

When they arrive at the scene, Nin-galad's swords are already in his hands again and at the ready. His yellow eyes scan the ruined wagon and the ground around it, noting the bolts and blood alike. His brows furrow lightly as he treads forwards carefully with his weapons consistently poised so as to be of immediate use should something leap out of the thicket in ambush. His eyes move to the ground, noting the tracks as well as the drag marks. "As good a path as any to follow," he states over his shoulder and moves to follow the marks and blood to wherever it may lead.
Irial offers a nod of his head, "Perhaps I should have asked for information concerning corpses." for the moment he keeps his bow notched as he moves through the woods, his eyes alert for trouble.
 
The tracks lead the pair of you over a wooded hill. A single torn suede boot marks the trail's descent into the rocky bed of a long-dried river. Down the slope, a hill can just barely be seen. More spots of dark red smear the smooth stones, leading along toward the shadowed opening.

<OOC> Nin-galad says, "Well that's not ominous."
<OOC> Irial says, "Well I can check what animals are nearby."
 <OOC> Myrana says, "There's a bear."
<OOC> Nin-galad sets to lighting a fire in front of the cave.
 
Nin-galad stabs the boot with a shortsword, lifting it up closer to his face before flinging it aside. "I get the feeling there's a large, furry creature of an unpleasant disposition in that cave. Probably eating a gnome, as we speak." A few easy hops and he has carried himself down into the dry bed of the river and is already approaching the cave mouth at a quick trot. He draws up short at several metres from the mouth, however, and decides instead to call, "Anyone alive in there?" Better than going in and prodding about in the dark.
 
        As the two move closer to the cave Irial begins to focus once more, "There is a bear inside of the cave."

 
<OOC> Myrana says, "Listen checks?"
GAME: Nin-galad rolls listen: (15)+6: 21
 GAME: Irial rolls listen: (1)+1: 2
<OOC> Myrana says, "Irial, you hear what sounds like a sob, but is in likelihood actually a bit of water plopping or something silly."
 <OOC> Myrana says, "Feel free to ignore or take it into pose for comedic purposes XD"
 
You paged Nin-galad with 'You hear the sound of a bear snuffling and tearing meat apart.'

<OOC> Nin-galad says, "With mine Elven eyes, can I see the rotund devil?"
 <OOC> Myrana says, "Nope!"
<OOC> Myrana says, "But it can't be too far in. It's just the shape of the cave."
<OOC> Nin-galad says, "I'm actually going to start a fire, I think. Once I get a torch going, I'm just going to fling it back in there and see what gets all pissed off."
 <OOC> Myrana says, "No need for rolls for making a fire. There's lots of dry wood around a dry river bed."

"Wait here," he states to Irial before taking off up the bank again. There is a few moments of quiet rustling and the sound of rocks being struck together and then at last an echoing 'ah-HA!' Nin-galad reappears, one sword sheathed and a torch in his hand to replace the weapon. "I don't feel like going in there, the tunnel bends and who knows how close it is to that corner. I'm not about to stick my head around and look," he answers, without actually being asked a question in the first place. Glancing into the cave again, he adds, "I'm afraid the gnome is dead, however. I can hear the bear feasting on him." And with that, the torch is set against some more nearby wood before being flung into the cave. The extra - now aflame - pieces of wood are also thrown in afterwards in the Elf's best attempt to arc them around the corner. He draws back quickly, and his second shortsword appears in his hand again.

        Ther is a small shake of Irial's head, "At least the body will be cremeated now." he sighs, "I hope the death was a painless one." he watches as the torch is hurled within the cave.

 
It takes a little while for smoke to begin trickling out from the cave itself, at first creeping up from the top of the opening then wafting more thickly. Once it does, however, there is a loud, alarmed snuffling. And then, with a dismayed bellow, an enormous brown bear comes running on all fours out of the cave. Its huge paws send pebbles scattering across the river bed and its near skeletal sides rippling with lean muscle.
 
 
<OOC> Myrana says, "Are you guys just in front of the cave, or hiding?"
<OOC> Nin-galad says, "I took up a hiding spot off to the side so I could try and shiv it in the ass  
<OOC> Nin-galad says, "Rogues do it from behind, you see. o:"
 <OOC> Myrana says, "--Oh! I see it in your pose now. Sorry"
<OOC> Myrana missed it somehow. Irial is there too?
<OOC> Irial is!
<OOC> Irial is slow.
<OOC> Myrana says, "So what do you guys do? Do you let the bear run away into the woods? It is essentially a very skinny Grizzly. :)"
<OOC> Nin-galad says, "Never! I'm going to stab it for a sneak attack the second it pokes its head out."
<OOC> Myrana says, "Alright! Roll your attack. Since it's a sneak attack, that'll be first, then we'll do +inits"
Myrana sets herself up as the DM.
GAME: Nin-galad rolls 1d20+4: (10)+4: 14
GAME: Nin-galad rolls 1d20+3: (16)+3: 19
<OOC> Myrana says, "Second one hits!"
<OOC> Myrana says, "Damage?"
GAME: Nin-galad rolls 1d6+3+1d6: (1)+3+(2): 6
<OOC> Nin-galad says, "Glorious fail."
Nin-galad rolls initiative: Roll: 18 + Bonus: 5 = Total: 23
<OOC> Irial says, "I roll as well?"
 <OOC> Myrana nods :)
GAME: Irial rolls 1d20+7: (3)+7: 10
 <OOC> Myrana says, "Bah-- +jinit is not cooperating."
 GAME: Myrana rolls 1d20+1: (11)+1: 12
 <OOC> Myrana says, "+init Irial :)"

When the enormous bear erupts from the cave, Nin-galad is ready for it. Standing off to the side of the cave, he leaps out as its flanks clear the mouth of the cave and he leads with the tips of both swords. In his gusto, his main hand strike goes wide, stabbing through the air next to the bear but his offhand strikes true and gouges a deep gash into the bear as he it thunders by him.
Irial rolls initiative: Roll: 13 + Bonus: 4 = Total: 17
 
<OOC> Myrana says, "Okay! It goes Nin, Irial, Bear X)"
 <OOC> Myrana says, "Nin, what're you doing?"

        Much like Nin-Galad Irial is ready for the bear as well. The younger elf charging out in order to swipe at the bear, yet his aim is wild missing the creature entirely. <elven>

<OOC> Nin-galad says, "Staaaabbing, again!"
GAME: Nin-galad rolls 1d20+4: (3)+4: 7
GAME: Nin-galad rolls 1d20+3: (1)+3: 4
<OOC> Myrana says, "Irial!"
<OOC> Irial moves to flank then attacks!
GAME: Irial rolls 1d20+9: (8)+9: 17
<OOC> Myrana says, "Hit!"
GAME: Irial rolls 1d6+2: (5)+2: 7
<OOC> Myrana says, "You hurt it! :)"
<OOC> Myrana says, "BEAAR"
<OOC> Myrana says, "It attacks Irial"
GAME: Myrana rolls 1d20+4: (12)+4: 16
<OOC> Irial says, "Miss."
<OOC> Myrana says, "Okay!"
<OOC> Myrana says, "Nin!"
<OOC> Nin-galad says, "Staabbing again. Or trying."
GAME: Nin-galad rolls 1d20+4: (3)+4: 7
<OOC> Nin-galad says, "Whoops, that should be +6 so it's a 9."
<OOC> Nin-galad says, "Not that it matters."
GAME: Nin-galad rolls 1d20+5: (14)+5: 19
<OOC> Myrana says, "Second hits!"
GAME: Nin-galad rolls 1d6+3+1d6: (4)+3+(1): 8
<OOC> Myrana says, "Stabbed-d! Irial! :)"
<OOC> Irial will stab!
GAME: Irial rolls 1d20+9: (8)+9: 17
GAME: Irial rolls 1d6+2: (3)+2: 5
<OOC> Myrana says, "Also stab'd!"

Nin-galad hurts it. Hurts it like the angry fist of GOD.
 
<OOC> Myrana says, "It attacks...."
 
<OOC> Myrana says, "Nin-galad!"
GAME: Myrana rolls 1d20+4: (3)+4: 7
<OOC> Nin-galad says, "Oh ho ho. MISS."
 
        Irial focuses for his attack. As the claws miss skwering him the younger elf moves to strike back. His sword flashing through the air drawing forth blood. His stance light and quick as he dancing about the creature striking, his guard remaining up.

 
<OOC> Myrana says, "The bear misses, so-- Nin!"
GAME: Nin-galad rolls 1d20+6: (15)+6: 21
GAME: Nin-galad rolls 1d20+5: (16)+5: 21
 
 
GAME: Nin-galad rolls 1d6+3+1d6: (2)+3+(5): 10
GAME: Nin-galad rolls 1d6+3+1d6: (5)+3+(6): 14
 
<OOC> Myrana says, "That kills it XD"
 
 
 
Nin's main hand is not carrying its own weight this day it would seem; he misses on two strikes with it while still managing to hack away with his offhand however and deal minor blows to the great bulk of the beast. When it turns its attention on him, however, quick Elven muscles have him crouch underneath a sweeping strike as the bear rises up to its full and rather impressive height. As the blow whistles over Nin-galad's head, he presses the hilts of his swords against his chest and lunges upwards at the bear to lead with the gleaming tips. Both of them stab in as though the animal were made of butter, sinking directly up to the handguards of each shortsword and pinning the Elf to the stomach of the bear.

Booted feet come up quickly, running up the furry stomach of the creature to cause Nin-galad to be, however briefly, standing straight up horizontally while affixed to the bear. With a shove, both swords come free and the Elf dives away into a tumble before leaping to his feet and spinning about with both swords ready, in case it is not quite dead just yet.

With the bear dead, it is only a matter of waiting for the smoke to clear out of the cave enough for the two of you to enter. Inside is what's left of the poor assistant, torn to bits and dead as a doornail. It's a sad sight, and not much can be done but to take what's left of his poor hat, perhaps, and bring it back to the Gnome some miles away.