Hmm... Strange. Did I make a mistake, being so rash?
Ispil tries to remember if he'd ever heard of something like that before. Was it some sort of trapped spirit? It was obviously magical. Hopefully he hadn't cursed himself or something absurd like that.
Ispil notes Ker heading into the forest, and follows suit, though he follows a different path. He tries to move stealthily but is more preoccupied with spotting other things than avoiding sight himself, and also periodically intentionally makes tracks on the ground to aid him in case he gets lost. After all, he grew up in a monastery, he didn't have much of a chance to develop a good sense of direction.
Ispil thinks a moment..
16+1=17
19+1=21
Disadvantage: Specific information vs untrained skill (Arcana).
Result: Success!He does distinctly recall being taught about soul containers-about how, if one wishes to mutilate their spirit, they can place their soul into an outside source, so that if their body is destroyed, they can return to life…albiet, as one of the undead.
The doll, however, he suspects was a Soul Fetch. It’s a magicla device used to terrify, torment, and dominate others-by tying a portion of their soul to your own. Typically, it is a small doll-embellished with pieces of your intended victim. This revelation brings him no joy, however-the fact the doll was still intact magically suggests a unfortunate scenario. That it’s original user was tricked into plunging a needle into a fetch that had their own parts in it-such a thing will bind said user’s full soul in the fetch, effectively trapping them with their fell enchantment. Like a snake eating it’s own tail, such a being can never escape…of it’s own power.
Ispil is fairly sure he may have very well released an evil force on the world-the only sort of person who could make a fetch and risk binding their own soul in such a way, is unlikely to be a Godly sort.
Ispil then sets off, his thoughts ringing in his head...
Perception Check
4+4=10
Result: Fail!Survival Check
6+4=10
8+4=12
Disadvantage: Welcome to the Greenhell
Result: Fail!Unlike Ker, the young Monk fails to notice anything wrong. If anything, the quiet forest lulls him into a peaceful, relaxed state. He heads North, for lack of a direction, trying to stay close to the sound of the ocean-it will be easy to find his way back just by following the shore...unfortunately, this forest is very strange. It's hard to gauge the distance of sounds. Path's seem to open up in front of him...but, when he turns around, they are closed. It gets steadily cooler and cooler, and he begins to feel more and more drowsy. He tries to find his tracks, but...they seem to be fading away, the further he goes...and often, he finds himself following marks that look like the tracks he left...but, not quite the same...
At some point, he just stops in the middle of a clearing, trying to get his head straight. He has no idea where he is, or even exactly what time it is. he can't hear the ocean around him. The jungle closes in around him (is it closer than before?) a wall of green leaves and mossy trunks, spotted with colorful jungle flowers and hanging vines. It's still utterly silent, and he begins to realize that something is very wrong here.
"Right, meet you on the beach in a few minutes. Just gotta get some things."
Earl fetches his bow and rapier, along with his pack, in which he stuffs 50 feet of rope, a day of rations, two torches, a tinderbox, and a water skin, before wading out to the beach, holding his stuff above his head, so it doesn't get wet.
Nigma/Earl reaches the beach without issue.
Natalie is right behind him, not getting her boots wet-she's rowing herself to shore.
Ispil is standing a few feet away, his face screwed into concentration. After a few moments, he sets off into the jungle, on a different path from Ker.
Ker is rapidly running into the jungle another path, but he stops and goes down on his knee, for some reason...he looks like he's sniffing the ground, like some sort of dog.
Double-checking his pack and sparing a sidelong glance for the other travelers, Ker descends from the ship and makes his way off of the beach. Once on solid ground he carefully strings his bow, testing the draw, and readies the quiver at his waist, gripping three arrows at the ready in his bow hand while leaving the right free. Checking around to see if he is followed, he moves into the thick grass, eyes open for movement. Some fresh meat wouldn't go amiss, s'truth.
Perception Check
Auto-success from: Outlander Background
Ker feels something wrong almost immediately. It takes him a moment of thought, as he pushes his senses outward, looking for what has gotten his hackles raised...eventually, he realizes it's no specific wrong thing, but an amazing lack of the right things. An emptiness, where their should be a whole.
No bird song.
No calls of distant animals, however small or loud, in the distance.
No scurrying lizards or rodents in the grass as his boots move through.
Ker bends down and takes a a noseful of dirt, smelling it carefully, even tasting it. It tastes bad, even for dirt-a flavor like the nasty soil in bogs and swamps, he thinks-fit not even for rolling around in!-and, the poor soil usually doesn't support many healthy plants, either...there are no insects in this soil, or fluttering in the air. No flies buzzing...
He pauses, wondering what this could mean. The jungle is obviously quite alive...he can feel the grass from where he's standing, see the trees and flowers blow in the wind. It just seems there's no higher life here. At all...
Author
Topic: D&D 5e: Braving the New World (Day 2-A Quiet Evening) (Read 18656 times)