Into the Haunted Forest - The Game!

[Pvt Minsk]

INTO THE HAUNTED FOREST
humbly presented by Pvt Minsk
starring
* Kaeam as Magnus Olafson
* Lottel as Falash
* Luca Stefan as Rohn Wisk
* Monkey King as Morgoon Maclain
* Teh Jake as Aman Juriah
* Ziadan as Rorihann Leafstride

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It is the 17th of Rova, early autumn, 4708 Absalom Reckoning. The Old Arthfell Road meanders before you. But then, it also meanders off behind you. It’s done this for several days now, and you’re starting to grow weary of it.

The travel northwards has been… tense, certainly, but it hasn’t been high adventure. They say that Darkmoon Vale has countless opportunities for adventurers not afraid to risk their lives, but here in the Arthfell it’s only been travel since you entered the woods. The only people you’ve seen on the road have been woodcutters returning to their families in their thatched hut with a little more firewood, most likely still not enough to last the winter, and worshippers of Desna on one of their holy pilgrimages. You have no idea where they’re heading, and most likely they don’t either. For Desnans, the travel is the important part and the destination a mere aside. Sometimes, you see a surprised deer grazing on the roadside after rounding a bend, and it skirts into the shadows of the Arthfell after recovering from the shock of seeing you.

Evening is slowly nearing but for the time being it’s still light, even with the tree leaves filtering the dying sunlight. Arthfell Forest has gathered a grim reputation which you haven’t been able to verify, as the Old Arthfell Road runs along the edge of the primeval woods. It’s uneven dirt, winding around copses of trees apparently from where the hills are lowest, occasionally bending a bit deeper into the woods. At this distance, and at daylight, Arthfell Forest is pleasant enough, nothing out of the ordinary for an Inner Sea forest. Evergreen trees tower on all sides, finches perch on tree branches and sing cheerfully, squirrels run up tree trunks into their homes, long grass blades sway on a cool breeze from the mountains…

But ever since the road joined the woods, there’s been an atmosphere of wariness around you. It could just be the paranoid and fearful nature of the woodcutters getting to you too, but there are times every day when the forest quiets and the shadows seem deeper in the trees. It feels like something in the forest, or perhaps the forest itself, is watching you to see what you are doing inside its boundaries. It’s even worse at night, when twigs snap in the woods, each closer than before, and the torchlight and shadows play tricks on your mind.

Today promises respite, though. After a few days of roughing in the woods, you should be arriving at Travelers’ Stop Inn today. At the crossroads of the Old Arthfell Road and the road to Oregent in the east, the inn is the only lodging on the road from the south of the Arthfell to distant Falcon’s Hollow. Those more accustomed to civilization will warmly welcome a meal and roof over bed, and those in tune with nature can appreciate a chance to restock any lacking supplies before continuing.

A trail appears on the left of the road, but by your estimations Travelers’ Stop Inn should still be an hour’s distance to the north. You correctly guess, instead, that this is a Wayshrine of Desna. There’s been a few of these country shrines to the goddess of travel before on the road, and this one seems no different. In the centre of the shrine is a small fire pit, flanked north and south by lean-tos meant for travellers to rest in. The west side displays a granite statue of the fairy-winged lady of luck. Into the pedestal is written the prayer of Desna:

“Blessed is the long road, the destination, the homeward path, and all who make the journey. Let each dream be a bright star in the night sky of your mind, and let it light your path in the day. Do not be troubled if your dream falters, for there are countless stars in the sky and countless dreams to experience—pick a new one and change your course.”

These Wayshrines are meant for the travellers of the world to stop for a moment and reflect on their travels while resting and regaining the strength to continue their journey. Certainly, you yourself feel like you could take a minute to catch your breath. Travelers’ Stop Inn is not so far anymore but still a ways from you, and it would be best to regain one’s spirits for the last stretch. As a resting place, at least a Wayshrine is safe from highwaymen. The local brigands, superstitious as they are, are usually followers of Desna themselves and wouldn’t dare commit harm on the holy ground of the goddess of luck and travel.

Live swallowtail butterflies, patron animals of Desna, appear to perch on the statue. This is the first time you’ve seen butterflies in the Arthfell. One could take this as a sign that the shrine is particularly blessed by Desna herself.

(Okay, let’s do this! The preceding intro applies to everyone more or less, but YOU DO NOT ARRIVE SIMULTANEOUSLY. The shrine is empty at first, and the first to reply in character is the first to arrive at the shrine. You all arrive in the order which you post. Assume that enough time has passed for the person(s) before you to have settled at the shrine between you and his/their post(s). Feel free to redescribe what sort of character we're looking at! Once everyone’s met and shook hands, tried to carve their eyes out, the usual, I’ll move the plot gears along.)

[Luca Stefan]

Stumbling out of the forest with one hand closed in a tight fist, pressing it into his chest and taking a peak from time to time, sheltering it with his other hand from unseen eyes.
He walked steadly down the road, chuckling. As he noticed the shrine he emitted a muffled, yet pleased "Aha!" and hurried there. He walked up behind the statue and threw himself to the ground, then adjusted his position to rest his head and upper back on the statue.
He pulled down his scarf, revealing his scarred face. He grinned as he reached inside his fist and pulled out a maggot, biting it's head off and spitting it out, then watched for a moment the headless maggot convulse before eating it. He continued eating his maggots, with child-like delight.

[Ziadan]

Silent footsteps (if any) where to be heard as Rorihann came out of the forest, he was in a dark mood. He felt sympathy towards the forests in this area the humans so greedily exploit for their own means. He was not suprised that the forest seemed troubled. He noticed the shrine and decided to sit down nearby stumbling against a rock or tree. He felt a growl from his stomach, been a few days since he had something decent to eat rather than roots and mushrooms.

[Luca Stefan]

Hearing footsteps, Rohn stood up to see who arived. Wrapped an arm around the statue, and threw the remaining maggots in the fire. "An elf person... how bizare!" he said, to no one in particular. Did I just say that out loud? he thought. "No matter! This elf probably doesn't even speak my tongue" he said out loud, replying to himself.
"With what purpose do you intrerupt this pleasant day with my fair lady." he asked the elf, but didn't wait for a reply, as he began kissing the statue while gently fondling it's erogenous zones.

[Ziadan]

Rorihann looked at the strange person that was hiding behind the statue, ignored the taunting comments. The man was obviously not right i his mind. then he saw him fondling witht the statue, becoming disgusted by it. He sprung up to his feet and aproached the man.

-"Stop that at once, have you no respect?" he pointed and said with a irritated voice.

[Luca Stefan]

"I'm not the pervert who's watching all of this" he said as he groped his errect member and laughed. His attention shifted to the statue again. He put his finger up to his lips and shushed the elf, then stood still, with his ear close to the statue's mouth.
He suddently stepped away from the statue, disgusted. "WHORE!" he shouted at it, geniuenly angry at it. "You were right elf, this whore is not for me" he approached Rori. "I should have listened." He stopped at 15 feet away, and fidgetting, seemingly distracted by a bird.

[Ziadan]

Rorihann said nothing, he wondered what could possibly have made this man the way he is...

[Lottel]

As Falash approached the spot where the map said a little shrine would be he heard noises.
Quickly, he darted behind the nearest tree and peeked out, trying to see what's going on without being seen. He saw a two people arguing? Talking? He didn't care to listen to the words. He was paying attention to one of the men's strange flailing. Hmm... That guy is drunk. Or crazy. I do hope he's drunk. Crazy people hardly ever have anything worth stealing.
Hoping either one would kill the other or someone would sleep soon, Falash decided to stay behind the tree and watch what happened. And focused entirely on the two men, not paying much attention to the forest around him.

[Teh Jake]

Aman was looking forward to a short respite from the incessant monotony of travelling as he strode into into the clearing of the Wayshrine, when he noticed the elf and the scarred figure arguing. Seeing the scarred one's way of moving, he suspected that he may be the source. Concerned, he hailed them with a desire to help.

"Ho, fellow travelers! What is the reason for this conflict?"

[Luca Stefan]

Startled by the man that just arrived, Rohn approached him with large steps, stopping within inches of the man. "Conflict?" the scars on his face dancing as his facial muscles contracted into a grim smile. The man could no doubtely smell the stench of dead maggots, or otherwise rotten flesh that emanated from Rohn's mouth.
"No conflict here, sir" he replied, "Only conflict here is with that scandalous wench!" he screamed as he turned around and pointed at the statue.

[Lottel]

A monk? Hmmmm..., Falash thought doing calculations in his head. Monks never carry anything worth having. The gnome shifted. He was bored. He was fairly sure that these guys had nothing worth stealing but was wondering what the one man would do, the crazy man.

[Teh Jake]

Aman glanced at the inanimate solid granite statue, and raised an eyebrow. "Diplomacy, in all things.", he reminded himself. Turning and looking the man squarely in the eye, ignoring the fetid breath and the disfigurement, he said with as much tact as he could muster, "And what has this... scandalous wench done, good sir?"

[Luca Stefan]

Rohn opened his mouth to say something, then sighed and began scratching his head furiously, to the point where it became obvious it was painful. He stopped suddenly and turned to the man. "Nothing." he said, expresionless. " At least not of her own fault..." he seemed to be talking to himself, at this point. "No, you see.. You see. He, she-" he stopped suddenly and scratched his head again. He approached the man to the point where he could smell his breath again, and with the most sincere face he said "It's complicated."
He then took a couple of steps back. "So where be you heading?"