Termite Problem

12th day of Eleasis (Highsun), 1481

You awake to the sound of gentle rain hitting the roof above your heads - but more prominent is the smell of delicious food being prepared, no doubt wafting up from the kitchen below. Reminded that your package includes a cooked breakfast, you hastily gather your things and head downstairs to find your companions and a table.

Storm makes his way down and takes a seat with a yawn.

"Such luxuries make it hard to find the motivation to hit the road again. Especially if it's another day of rain. The Tabaxi aren't made for so much water."

Rousing the energy to respond, "When we get under the trees you'll hardly feel the damp. Then we're in my territory...."

"Ah yes, you are from the High Forest and we are heading into the Neverwinter Woods. This will be your favored terrain it seems. The jungle and the forest may seem like much of the same but they are very different on the inside. We are fortunate to have you guide us."

You see Govath making his way down the stairs trailing a line of smoke from his pipe, almost seeming to have a skip in his step. Settling into a chair he leans back looking forward to breakfast as the precursor of delicious aromas wafting through the tavern woke him from his slumbers.

"Best night in a long time. Felt like a king sleeping in that bed, compared to our many nights on the cold hard ground."

"Well it looks like another cold and wet day so cherish the memories. Now we wait for Cain and we can set off before this one has the urge to buy something."

As you wait, a well-groomed dwarf in a white shirt and brown apron approaches the table with a platter of plates containing your hot egg, potato and cheese dish. He wishes you a good morning and drops off four of the meals, aware that you are waiting on another companion.

Cain comes down the stairs, yawning. He spots his companions already being served breakfast and quickens his pace. Sliding into the chair as the dwarf leaves, he says, "I must have slept in, but how could you not after being without a bed for days."

"How's everyone doing? I'm outside of my area of expertise after this point, so you'll have to take point when we head to the forest, Rowan."

With his mouth full of egg Rowan mumbles something that sounds like, "I got yeh covered, mate."

The four of you finish breakfast and settle up with Madame Rosene, giving her the three gold pieces each - except for Storm, who earned his food and board through his performance the previous night. Bidding farewell, you head around back to collect Winnifred and the wagon. Cain provides the stablehand with the one gold piece, then inquiring about purchasing a couple days worth of feed. One silver piece later, and the fodder consumed on your lighthouse detour are replaced and loaded onto the cart.

As you head back up the road toward the looming castle, looking even more miserable on this grey, rainy day, it occurs to you that it may be worthwhile to ask how best to leave the city in order to follow the river. You learn from a passerby that Neverwinter has four gates - one in each of the city's four districts. Unfortunately, they all face either north or south - only boat traffic generally enters or exits the city from the east. Recalling that your destination lies on the south bank, and heeding Cain's advice to avoid the southeastern district, you decide to exit the city by the same way you entered.

Making your way around the castle walls, across the wide bridge and through the Protector's Enclave, you keep an eye out for a general store where you could purchase some arrows, rations, and other simple goods. A quant little shop catches your eye, the words 'Railand & Sons Trading Company' painted upon the door. You enter the small building to be greeted by three young boys, none older than ten years, eagerly swarming you before their father, the titular Railand, shoos them away and helps you find what you're looking for. You purchase what you need and then continue to the south gate.

Exiting the city, you see that all trace of the previous day's attack has been cleared away, and everything seems to have calmed down - though it does seem as though an unusually high number of guards have been stationed at this post. You make your way along the city wall, passing the gate to the Arcanist Quarter, which seems far less travelled, and continue northward until you reach the south bank of the Neverwinter River. As you approach, flashes of lightning illuminate the sky overhead, and the light rain turns to full-on storm as the winds pick up and the clouds give way to a downpour. You pull your cloaks up over your heads and prepare for another miserable day on the road, eager to get out of the open plains and under the cover of a forest canopy.

Cain sighs beneath the cloak while holding the reigns of the cart. "Honestly, I've never been one for this costal weather and the constant rain. I hope they're not too upset when we get there ... we are a few days late after all."

"What can they blame us, they are not the ones stuck travelling in near constant rain."

"That's for sure ... this rain isn't going to make moving this cart along a riverbank any easier."

"At this point, what is another day late if we just head back to the Driftwood and try our luck tomorrow..."

"But I suppose were in the thick of it now. Let's press hard for the cover of the Neverwinter Wood. I'm sure ol' Winny can handle a brisker pace."

And so a brisk pace you adopt, pushing on through the rain and the thunder as the river beside you grows higher and faster with the added water. No proper road exists here, and no vessel braves the water today, so your journey is undisturbed. By evening, you can see the tree line ahead of you in the distance. As light of day fades, you find yourself under thick tree cover at last, soaked to the bone and uncomfortable.

Rowen stands under the tree cover and takes in a deep breath of the damp mulch.
"Smell that?! Reminds me of home. I reckon I should do some huntin' whadyeh say?"

Cain bring the cart to a stop. "Well, it's getting dark out so we probably shouldn't be travelling. Let's set up camp and make our way to the logging camp tomorrow."

In response to Rowan, he says, "Sounds good, I'll start getting the cart packed in."

"It's doubtful there will be any dry wood or debris to use for a fire but this one will start a firepit anyways. Good luck finding dry wood Govath, our survival rests fully upon it."

You use a bonus action to grant 1d6 Bardic Inspiration die to Govath. Once within the next 10 minutes, Govath can roll the die and add the number rolled to one ability check, attack roll, or saving throw they make. Once the Bardic Inspiration die is rolled, it is lost. A creature can have only one Bardic Inspiration die at a time.

1d20 (4) + 1 = 5

1d20 (3) + 6 = 9
Rowan drops his pack in the cart and heads off into the woods to hunt.

Storm's words ring prophetic as Govath returns with naught but soaked twigs and branches which you are unable to coax into burning. Exhausted from the muddy trek, you decide that you'll have to make do with no fire. This is a frustrating revelation for Ruggo, who comes back from his hunt with a small woodland creature for each of you, ready to be prepared. Much to your relief, he also carries some berries and nuts which will at least supplement your purchased rations. Additionally, he finds a freshwater stream by which you all can refill your empty water skins.

Each party member gets: 1 Ration, 2 Water (to a maximum of 4, since you are refilling at night)

Storm chews on some berries and eyes the wet ground where he unrolled his bedroll. "Well this is as far opposite from the Driftwood as we could get. One night we bathe in comfort and luxury, and the next we're...here. Anyone have a good story?"

"Or I can teach you all a dice game played around Port Nyanzaru if you're up for it. Maybe I'll lose the rest of my coins to you." Storm adds with a laugh.

Cain miserably eats his berries, sitting up against the cart in a weak attempt to gain some shelter from the water dropping from the trees above.

"I don't have any interesting stories to share, but I'm all ears if someone else wants to pass the time with a tale. In the meantime, I'm always up for a game of dice.", he says to Storm.

"I have many tales to tell, in story or song or poem. But it's nice to hear it from others from time to time."

"Ruggo, Govath? Any stories or do you wish you try your hand at Jungle Jinx?"

"I'd be keen on learning a new game. Lay it on me."

"Alright then. Let me teach you a game played in the taverns of Port Nyanzaru and may Ubtao's blessing be upon you and your coin."

Rowan listens to the tale, almost forgetting to claim his three chips on a good roll. "I see whatcher doin' dwarf. This how yeh play in the taverns too? Distract the players with a story?"

"In the taverns you count on drink, and depending on the group a little slight of hand."

As the game ends, Storm leans back content about his win.

"And that is how you play Jungle Jinx. This one hope you enjoyed it. The merchant Princes are known to settle trade disputes using this method. It's a flexible game in its rules and win conditions."

"I was sure I had that game in the bag with a full grab on Ubtao's Blessing. Oh well, next time we'll play for more money."

"Chance wasn't on my side this evenin'. Good game though, I wanna play again sometime."

"Seems Storm can afford some more trinkets from the shop back in Leilon now. But make sure to keep some coin so we have a chance to win it back."

Rowan gets up and starts wrapping the meat he hunted and skinned and tying a rope to the end of the bag.
"This should last till t'morrow night. I salted it and have it marinatin' in a berry herb compote. If we have dry wood, we'll be eatin well."

Sensing the time, Cain says, "Well, unless someone else has a tale to share, we best start get some rest. I can take first watch this time."

"If no other volunteers I will take the second watch. Maybe by tomorrow we will have better traveling weather."

Govath sets up under the cart to use it as a temporary shelter from the rain.

"Suits me fine. Wake me at daybreak, mate."

Rowan forgoes his bedroll, and just sits against a tree with his hat down over his face.

1d20 (13) + 4 = 17

The lack of fire ends up being a boon to Cain, the cool air keeping him alert for movement and sound. Between distant peals of thunder, he hears the song of crickets, small creatures scurrying and climbing trees, the hooting of owls and even the soft sound of hooves trampling on foliage. The Neverwinter Wood is teeming with life - and danger, it is commonly said - but no threat approaches during first watch, and when the time has come, Cain makes his way over to Govath to wake him up.

"Nothing to report", Cain says after waking Govath before heading off to bed.

"Let us hope the remainder of the night is the same."

Govath lights his pipe and settles in for the watch.

1d20 (8) + 3 = 11

Sure enough, the remainder of the night is much the same - though Govath, not very accustomed to nights in the woods, finds the constant thrum a little irritating and finds himself occasionally distracted. He does hear the distant howl, likely of a wolf, at one point, followed by the response of its companions. However, nothing approaches your little camp.

13th day of Eleasis (Highsun), 1481

Eventually, small rays of sun pierce their way through the tree cover above, the wind from the previous day subsiding and leaving the branches completely still. The rest of you wake up on damp ground, but looking forward to a much more pleasant day.

Rolling out from under the cart, Storm packs up his belongings.

"Guide Ruggo, how far is this camp we are to deliver these supplies to? Will we reach it within the day or should we expect a long journey through the Neverwinter Woods?"

Before answering Ruggo, unties the meat he attempted to cure, from which is emanating an unpleasant odour...

"Arghh, muthabugga!!"

"I think that bag should be tossed aside with its contents Ruggo. The stench has made it to this side of the cart. Also, do you know what creatures we should keep an eye out for that are aggressive to travellers?"

"Yer right, I'll leave it for the carnivorous squirrels." Ruggo tosses the meat into the brush.

"Carnivorous did you say? We do not have that variety where I am from."

"And we can make the logging camp today I reckon. I'll get us through the woods quick enough."

Cain, sitting on the cart says, "Well, the carts ready when you all are. This is going to be a bit slow going ... it would be really unfortunate if the cart were to lose a wheel at this point."

"The logging camp is along the south bank of the river, so we'll be following that. Won't have teh worry about water fer t'day. And can dunk yer head in if it gets hot."

You begin your trek eastward, moving deeper into the forest. Thankfully, travelling along the bank of the wide Neverwinter River grants you some time in the sun, helping to dry out your still-damp clothes from the day before.

As your watchers noticed the night before, the forest is teeming with life - even over the rushing of the river, you can hear the sound of birds and woodland creatures all around. Ruggo leads confidently on, stopping now and then to listen and peer between the trees for any sign of danger, occasionally directing the party to stop until some unseen threat passes.

After a couple hours of travel, you come to a small clearing along the water and are struck by an unusual sight. Standing directly ahead of you, staring straight at you, is a large, boar. Its black eyes seem to track you as you slow your approach, pausing to decide how to respond.

Glancing to Ruggo. "Bears staring at you a common occurrence in these woods?" Govath says while casually checking his rapier is ready should the situation call for it.

"This one has not yet seen a Sword Coast bear...but that looks more like a boar from where I come from."

Cain slows the cart to a halt. "A boar for sure, and they're the type to charge their targets. We better keep a tree or something between us and the ox. What are our options here, go around it or try to scare it away?"

"Or better yet, who wants pork for dinner?"

Govath goes into a state of deep thought. Has his clan's depictions of bears with tusks been wrong this whole time? No there must be a more vicious bear with tusks in existence somewhere in the world.

"Bear or boar, it does look like it would provide a good feast. I worry though, Winifred may not survive an encounter with the boar should things get out of hand."

Deciding to talk to the boar in case there's something stranger going on here, Ruggo shouts, "If yeh don't get a move on I'm gonna be eating from yer plump juicy meats tonight, pig!"

And he unhooks his bow and nocks an arrow.

1d20 (6) + 3 = 9

Once Ruggo finishes his threat, the boar gives one more sideways glance at the lot of you, then bolts off into the forest without so much as a squeal, dashing back and forth through the trees headed south.

Ruggo puts his bow away and nods to keep moving. "Plenty of boar in the woods, so teh speak. Keep yer eyes out for dry wood and load the cart as we go. I'll find us some tucka."

1d20 (5) + 6 = 11

Ignoring the fleeing boar, you carry on along the edge of the river, the trees wrapping thickly around you once more. As you walk, you keep an eye out for dry wood, loading twigs and branches here and there onto the cart for the evening. Ruggo snags a couple of small creatures with his bow and occasionally veers off toward some bush to collect berries. His comfort level with the forest is noticeable, and both hunt and travel go smoothly.

Each party member gets: 2 Rations, 2 Water (to a max of 4)

A couple more hours of walking along the Neverwinter River and you find yourself at the base of a steep ridge. With very little space to continue along the riverbank and no way to navigate the ox and cart up the incline, you turn southeast to follow along the edge. The trees thin rapidly here, giving way to entire sections of sawed-off stumps until you eventually hit a well-worn road, coming up from the south. Following this back in the direction of the river, you arrive at your destination.

In the distance you see a dozen tents arranged along a sandy beach. Near a dock stands a wooden cabin, with logs stacked under a large awning. You see what appear to be the remains of older cabins, torn down at some point leaving only their foundations and stone chimneys.

A grim silence hangs over the entire camp, and no living creature is in sight.

1d20 (4) + 4 = 8

Scanning across the camp, it appears that the storm from the day before has washed away all trace of activity from the muddy ground. You see no signs of blood or tracks.

"This doesn't look good, mates. Should we split up and search the area or stick together?"

"The camp appears small enough, two check the cabin and the remainder the tents. I volunteer for tents whoever wishes to join."

"I'll take tents with yeh. Try and stay quiet."

2d20kh1 (2, 1) + 1 = 3

"It'll be unfortunate if we've come all this way only to not deliver this cart. I'll stay with the cart, just in case we need to make a quick getaway."

Cain tightens the reigns around his hands.

"This one will have a quick peek through the cabin windows and see if there is any recent signs of life."

1d20 (14) + 6 = 20

1d20 (4) + 5 = 9

As Cain sits atop the cart, casting his eyes warily over the abandoned camp, the rest of you head out to investigate.

Storm moves in the direction of the river, passing an unhitched wagon and a torn-down cabin where all that remains is a collapsed chimney and fireplace, eventually creeping up to the southernmost window of the remaining cabin to take a peek inside. In the large room, he sees a plethora of logging equipment - saws, leather harnesses, hammers and other tools scattered about. Across from the window is a simple wooden door which is closed.

Ruggo and Govath make their way cautiously over to the southern campsite, finding the fire pit dead and soaked from the previous day's rain. Here, there are still visible footprints in the soft mud, along with strange trenches suggesting something being dragged along the ground. Looking at the tents themselves, you see that sections of the fabric appear to be burned away in sporadic fashion, as though splashed with a powerful acid.

That's about as far as you get in your investigation before you hear the earth suddenly burst open behind you. You turn to see a large, hideous insectoid clicking its large pincers in your direction, a yellow-green liquid dripping from its mouth. You have no time to react before it strikes.

The looming creature darts its head forward, snatching Ruggo up in its powerful pincers and lifting him off the ground effortlessly. Its acidic saliva burns at his skin as he struggles to break free.

Cain attempts to shout a warning from the cart, but it all happens too fast. Hopping down, he dashes toward the campsite, attempting to distract the large insectoid. Govath deals a devastating blow to the creature's thorax, while Storm rushes in with feline agility to cast healing word on Ruggo.

The creature, gravely injured, attempts to take its meal and burrow away. Govath is too quick for it, however, and with one more powerful thrust of his rapier, the creature falls, dropping Ruggo into the mud. The campsite falls eerily silent once more.

Storm comes to a speedy halt as the whole ordeal comes to a quick end. Approaching Ruggo, he inspects his wounds.

"Well it seems we know why the camp is quiet. The cabin was empty of life though there are rooms this one was not able to see into. Considering this creature burrows in the earth, perhaps the locals are hiding inside the cabin where it would be safe from attack.

Ruggo, do you need more healing?"

"I should be fine, thankee Red."

He brushes off as much mud from his clothes as he can, and readies an arrow in his bow.

"Let's not get surprised again eh?"

Storm draws his rapier.

"This one suggest we make for the cabin and check that first. Anyone alive will not risk their chances in these tents if they're smart enough."

Cain is bent over, catching his breath after regrouping with the others.

"My gut tells me that an insect like that won't be operating alone. I agree, we should investigate the more secure structures and stay off the soft ground for the time being ... sound vibrations could alert anymore."

Realizing that the Ox is still back on the path, "What should we do about Winefred?"

"Let's unhitch her quickly and bring her inside as well. The main section of the cabin is full of logging supplies and tools and can easily fit the beast comfortably while we figure this out."

1d20 (1) + 5 = 6

Storm watches Govath almost go for the corpse...

"Uh...perhaps we can...dissect the creature together Govath. Before we accidentally butcher the remains. You know...for...research purposes."

He subconscious taps his Tome of Bones.

"Ah yes that is fine, I was unaware you were interested in insects as well, and that acid looks like it could prove to be useful."

"Anything with a bone structure, even the smallest of amounts interest this one. Though this thing looks insect-like, you never know what the insides contain. In fact, there is a beast in Chult made entirely of gooey jelly on the exterior but has one of the most complex skeletal frames ever documented in my Tomes. There's always secrets and surprises hidden inside all of us." Storm gestures to Cain's unsettling fake mask face.

"But this acid is a very good idea. We will extract as much as we can."

"It's okay Govath, you can help Storm with the harvesting, I'll go and unhitch the ox. I'll bring her to the building by the water and meet you guys there."

Cain heads back over to the ox, making his step as light as possible for fear of alerting anything that might be lurking beneath the surface.

"We can't do this now. It'll take at least an hour. Leave it and let's go to the cabin."

1d20 (11) + 6 = 17

1d20 (5) + 6 = 11

1d20 (7) + 7 = 14

1d20 (2) + 1 = 3

Before setting off, Ruggo takes a moment to glance once more at the earth from which the creature sprang. He sees no discernible difference from the earth covering the rest of the camp - or the majority of the Neverwinter Wood, for that matter.

Cain makes his way back to the wagon to begin unhitching Winnifred while the rest of you attempt to walk as softly as possible toward the door of the remaining cabin. You reach it while Cain is still managing the yoke, and find it ever-so-slightly ajar.

Govath, glancing at his companions and verifying that they are ready, proceeds to push open the door.

"If we do not find anyone here, have you both any idea where the loggers may try and find shelter from those creatures?"

"If anyone survived an ambush from those muthabuggas maybe they had boats they fled to. But if there's more'n one of em I reckon the whole camp is gone."

Storm eases the rapier in his scabbard slightly and follows Govath in.

"Boats would be a safe bet. But if there's no one in here and they tried to make a run for it, it is likely they're fifty feet below the ground by now ..."

Govath pushes open the door and the three of you creep in, whispering your speculations as you enter the cluttered room and begin peering around. Equipment and storage boxes lie haphazardly across the floor as though hastily abandoned. Suddenly, Ruggo bumps his foot against a box of tools, sending the sound of rattling metal echoing around the cabin.

"Is somebody there?!" you hear a muffled voice yell from beyond the inner door, just to your right. "Quickly, you must get off the --"

The voice is cut off by the ground bursting open once again, sending splintered wood and the box of tools that Ruggo hit flying all about the room. Another of the insectoid creatures reaches out to grab the Firbolg in its grasp...

With a dreadful feeling of deja vu, Ruggo finds himself once again lifted off the ground, squeezed between the powerful pincers of the creature before him, acid burning at his skin. He attempts to free himself from its grasp to no avail.

Govath takes a quick stab but it glances off the creature's hard exterior. Cain hears the cracking of the floorboards and the clattering of the tools from outside, where he is still unhitching Winnifred. He leaves her, attempting to carefully make his way toward the cabin door.

"You can't leave the group yet Ruggo, this one has more Jungle Jinx coin to win from you!" Storm says, before casting Healing Word on Ruggo and drawing his rapier. His strike deals some damage to the creature, but it has no intention of sticking around. It turns to dive back into the earth, taking another blow from Govath's rapier on the way but managing to get about five feet beneath the ground.

As it burrows, it continues to gnaw at its prey, and Ruggo succumbs to the crushing power and acidic saliva, falling unconscious.

"Storm, any idea how to proceed?" Govath asks, frantically scanning the ground for an answer.

Cain, hearing the second crash from outside, decides the time for caution has passed. He rushes to the doorway. Not seeing the creature - or Rowan - he does see the hole in the ground.

"Oh shiiii--", he says, and he runs to the hole and shoves his hands into the dirt as far as they'll go.

Suddenly, a wide bolt of lightning emerges from Cain's fingers, winding its way through the cracks in the loose earth until it reaches the two creatures beneath. The thunderous clap that follows blows away enough earth that everyone can just make out the back end of the creature as it convulses for a second and then falls still.

Storm immediately dives in, pushing his arm through any gap he can find to cast Cure Wounds on Ruggo, saving his fading life. "We got you Ruggo, it is not your time yet," he says, followed by "Get off the floor, everyone!" as he clambers back out of the hole an onto a nearby crate.

The voice previously heard beyond the door shouts "Are they gone? Did you kill them all? Am I...am I saved?"

"Not yet! Hold your ground until we are sure!" Storm responds.

Ruggo, feeling inspired by Storm's words, musters all the strength he can find in his aching body and shoves the large creature aside enough to squeeze through, rejoining the others above the surface.

Cain, still kneeling over the hole, looks down at his hands which continue to spark a little before fully dissipating. "Woah ...", he says out loud before remembering that there is still a potential danger.

"Hurry, get out of the tunnel and onto something!" , he reaches into the hole to help pull Rowan out.

"Hell, I must smell delicious to these buggas 'er somethin'."

He hacks up phlegm and blood as Cain helps him up.

"I apologize mates, I'm usually not this useless in my own territory."

"No worries, I'd be impressed if anyone could have known those things were about to attack." Cain looks around the room for something to get on top of, "Alright, everyone onto something while we figure this out."

"Well Ruggo, I believe you have a firm hold an second closest any of us have come to not returning from the other side."

Govath says while climbing up on something to be off the ground.

"I was prepared to start digging up a corpse."

"Should one of us act as bait to try and draw out any more of these creatures that may still be lurking around?"

"Ruggo can take my place. This one has six more attempts at death or so the story goes. They say Tabaxi survive death nine times before death."

Turning to Govath he raises a hand.

"Let us hear what the man on the other side of the door has to say. He appears to be a survive of the camp and must know more."

Storm shouts out to the door.

"We have killed two beasts and are standing upon crates off the floor! Who are you and what must we know to survive this ordeal!"

"My name is Tibor Wester, I'm the one who runs - or...ran - this logging camp. I'm the only one left! These...things killed everyone else. You've got to help me get out of here! Make sure they're all dead! I've got plans, you know. And they sure as hell don't involve being ripped to shreds by oversized ants!"

"Is that what they are? Hellspawn demon ants.... I reckon they're not native to this forest. Any idea what brought em here?"

Storm lowers his voice so only his companions can hear him...

"If the camp is wiped out, they won't need these supplies. But whatever this man Tibor Wester has ... "planned", let us make sure he provides us with a notice of delivery regardless."

In a whispered reply, "I don't trust someone who emphasizes that they have plans, let's be caution. First, let's hear how this all started."

"I have no idea! Our camp has operated for years - we have to fend off the occasional pack of wolves but never anything like this. I knew these woods held danger but this is more than I signed up for! It'll be onto safer business endeavours once you rescue me. You...you are here to rescue me, right?"

"We have come to deliver goods and supplies to your camp on behalf of the Lances of Leilon. There was no mention of your camp being in danger or of these attacks. Is it safe to approach you?"

1d20 (1) + 5 = 6

There are a handful of crates and some small toolboxes lying around - you may be able to get close to the door, but what you'll do afterward is unclear.

"I've...I've locked the door, and I've been on top of my desk at the far side of the room."

"This one isn't good for picking locks, maybe if we move some of these crates and make a little path to the door one of you can get this door open for good mister Wester."

"Hold on, let me have a look", Cain speaks up while pulling out a little kit from his bag, "We've had to learn the basics of lockpicking in the event orders had to be checked as per the Transport Security Administration of Waterdeep. This door shouldn't be anything too different from the standard chest lock."

Cain carefully crosses the room on the debris and furniture, almost as if the floor was lava. At the door, he attempts to pick the lock.

1d20 (18) + 4 + 2 [proficient] = 24

You watch as Cain deftly unlocks the door within seconds. A gentle push and it swings into the room beyond, revealing an office with stationary strewn about the floor. Against the far wall, beyond an overturned chair, is a desk, atop which is large man with greasy hair beneath a fur cap. His eyes light up as he sees the door open.

"So what's the plan? How are you getting me out of here?"

Cain puts his kit away and looks for any way to enter the room, to allow for his companions to pass through as well. While doing so, he responds to Tibor, "First, how about you tell us more about what happened here. How many were you, and are they all gone? How is it that you managed to get in here unscathed?"

"There were thirteen of us in all, and I can only assume the other twelve have been torn to shreds by those creatures. Who knows, maybe one or two managed to escape - I certainly wasn't sticking around to find out. They struck yesterday morning. Thank the gods I was near the cabin. I fled to my office and locked the door at once. But I could hear them, burrowing beneath the ground. I knew I had to stay off it. I've been waiting for someone to come ever since. And now, here you are!"

"Right ..."_, Cain points behind his general direction, "... so all of this is a logging camp. What changed recently that could have brought upon this sudden attention from these insects? Did you expand your logging area, dig a new hole, anything? We'll need to report this back to the Lances."

"Nothing! At least, nothing that I can think of! We've been operating as we always do, then suddenly as we're preparing for another day's work, these things pop out of the ground and ruin everything!"

"This seems to be a rather bad bit of luck that has fallen upon this logging camp. How long have you been working in this area? Is it possible you unknowingly set up upon these creatures nesting grounds?"

"No, we've been in operation about two years and have never had any trouble with these things. Not until yesterday!"

"Well we killed a few of these creatures but cannot guarantee that is the last of them. Is there anything you might have saw during the attack that could help? Number of creatures or direction they scurried off?"

"I believe the direction was down." Govath remarks to himself while still remaining vigilant for any more creatures that choose to make an appearance.

Cain scoffs quietly and mutters, "Doubt it, the man ran like a coward."

Storm whispers to the group. "What are we suppose to do with him? We cannot risk him dying before delivery. Should we make a little debris bridge to him so we can get him out?"

"Perhaps we can try throwing some furniture around to draw the creatures out from below ground. Those of us with ranged weapons can deal with them as they appear."

1d20 (18) + 2 = 20
Cain listens to his friends discuss plans while staring intently at Tibor. He doesn't trust him.

As you size up the man, your existing opinion only deepens - he seems to be a coward. He may talk of ambition, but you doubt he has the spine or the brains to pull off much of anything. Running through his language is a clear undertone of selfishness, and you're fairly confident he would leave any one of you behind if it meant he could get away safely.

"I don't know...maybe a dozen? Maybe more? They strike swift and disappear just as quickly. But I'm not sure they can hear - at least, not like you or I do. Making noise doesn't seem to matter, so long as we stay off the ground!

Now come on, what's the plan? I can't stay on this desk forever!"

"First step in rescue, get a writing utensil and a notice of delivery from your desk."

1d20 (18) + 2 = 20

"Please be sure to sign the notice before we risk getting you."

"Are...are you serious? You want a notice of goods delivery, now? There's no logging camp left to deliver goods to. You can bring me back to wherever you came from and I'll vouch for your services and make sure you're paid double what you were promised!"

1d20 (4) + 3 = 7

Tibor seems to be genuinely offering - though you do recall that he is not the one with the authority to pay you.

"You seem a little on edge. This is understandable considering everything you have been through. Without that delivery notice we have no reason to be here. Perhaps we can come and get you another time once you start thinking more clearly. Or simply sign the notice and we can get you out."

1d20 (15) + 6 = 21

Cain whispers to the others, "We had plans to deal with the orc problem. What are we going to do with all these goods, and Winnefred?"

"We could leave the goods with this fellow here, and Winnefred back at the town in a stables." Govath whispers back.

Storm joins in on the whisper. "If he signs the notice of delivery than the goods are his problem as per the agreement this logging camp has. Otherwise we're getting involved in their politics."

Using the Hat of Arcane Cheatery, Storm casts Mage Hand and drifts the spectral hand to Tibor.

"Are you ready to be rescued on behalf of the Lances of Leilon?"

Tibor grumbles loud enough for you to hear.

"Oh, so you're those kind of adventurers, I suppose. Greedy mercenaries."

His eyes scan the floor, where all stationary has been relocated to make way for his large frame. With considerable effort, he performs the necessary stretching and grasping required to reclaim a piece of parchment and a quill. He holds it by the very end and dips it in some spilled ink on the ground, then writes the requested notice of delivery.

Written upon the parchment are the following words:

This notice is confirmation of the delivery of goods and supplies to the logging camp in the Neverwinter Wood upon this, the 13th day of Eleasis, 1481 D.R.

Beneath this message you find the rather flashy signature of one Tibor Wester.

"The offer still stands, by the way. I'm a rather influential man across the Sword Coast, I'll have you know! I'm sure your employer would happily give you a bonus once they see you have recovered me from this tragedy safe and sound!"

Storm tucks the notice away safely after reading its contents.

"Contrary to your statement about us being ...those kinds of adventurers, we will not leave you for dead among the rest of this camp. You should count yourself lucky that we AREN'T those kinds of adventurers..."

"We will get you out and to safety. But to join us on our way will certainly be dangerous and you seem a coward. We make for an orc encampment after here. However if you wish to stick with us until we reach Leilon again, you are welcome. We will need someone to watch our pack animal while we are busy."

"Now back to the getting out of here alive. Do we build a makeshift bridge, throw stuff as a decoy, or make a run for it?"

Storm looks into the room as best he can.

"There is a window on the far side ..could be useful."

"I don't see how building a bridge is gonna matter, we can't build a bridge all the way out of this forest."

Tibor recoils at Storm's words.

"A...a coward? Why, I never! Just because I saved my own life - what was I supposed to do, die with everyone else? A great business mind like mine, gone to waste? I think not.

I don't think I'll be joining you for any orc-hunting either. Simply get me out of the woods and I'll make my own way to the nearest town, where I'll no doubt be treated with the respect I deserve!"

Storm rolls his eyes and mutters...

"For once, it wouldn't have been so bad if the Stone-Cold Reavers were here before us..."

He watches Govath bait any creatures and prepares for more combat.

Govath does his best to lob a couple of tools out the door in a footstep pattern. They each land with a thud outside, but only silence follows.

"Seems the way is clear for the time being. Best we move quietly and stick together as we leave, ready to attack whatever emerges from the ground."

"I have an idea who should go first ...", _Cain looks around the room briefly and adds, "... I wonder how they detect movement. Irregular patterns might be ignored, and maybe sounds that are unfamiliar too. Once we head out, we should move in sync, one step every 10 seconds or so, as lightly as possible?"

"There also is water nearby, I doubt these creatures will burrow up into the water. If we can make it there, we can wade our way out of the area, loop and around and get to the cart."

"The water is a smart idea. It's not far. Let's make for the water then, quietly. Tibor, wait there. Once we get out back, this one will tap on the window for you to come out of. If we're not attacked by the time we get there, you should be safe to crawl out and join us."

"I'll stick to the rear this time."

"I can take up the lead."

Govath proceeds to lower himself to the floor as quietly as he can.

1d20 (11) + 7 = 18

"Be ready by the window Tibor."

Storm nimble and softly gets on the floor and follows Govath.

1d20 (2) + 6 = 8

1d20 (5) + 6 = 11

1d20 (5) + 5 = 10

Tibor nods in understanding of the plan as the four of you carefully - and irregularly - make your way back out the door of the cabin. Any observer would no doubt find the sight hilarious, but fortunately, you don't hear or see anyone. The eerie silence that greeted you upon your arrive continues to hang over the camp, making each awkward step a little more nerve-wracking. Nonetheless, you make it to the window without issue.

Upon seeing you, Tibor slowly slides the window open from inside.

"Now what?"

"Climb through, and we make for the river before circling back around to our cart."

It's another amusing sight to watch this large, uncoordinated man make his way out the small window, and for a moment you fear he may end up stuck straddling the windowsill. The sound of various grunts and groans fill the air as he manages to squeeze himself through, landing, to your horror, with a loud thump upon the ground. There is a pregnant pause as everyone present goes silent, fearing the worst - but a moment passes with no action.

Cain waits for Tibor to flop to the ground. "Follow us and do what we do exactly. Staggered, irregular steps in time with us. If you have any hint of courage in your bones, now's the time to use it. We're risking our lives for you."

He turns to Govath and nods to continue.

He clears his throat and begins a slow ominous tune...

"♫♫♫
They came to deliver some boxed up goods
Deep within these dark, wild woods
But what they found when they arrived
Was a man with a greasy hood.

♫♫♫
He claims the others were torn to shreds
But there are no tracks or trails of red...
Instead he ran the cowardly way,
And left the other twelve for dead.

♫♫♫
He said something when it all began
A curious point about "his plan".
And now that he is free from beasts..."

Storm pauses for a brief moment before finishing the last phrase of the song. But rather then sing it, he whispers menacingly into Tibor's ear...

"He's going to tell us everything about this plan of his..."

He taps a paw on Tibor's shoulder, with his claws out with enough pressure to ensure Tibor feels them.

"W-What? What's this all about? I said I had plans. I'm a businessman! I've got all my best years ahead of me! I have every intention of retiring in luxury, my friends. It's not my fault the others didn't have my survivor instincts! What was I supposed to do, just die along with them, pointlessly?"

The four of you, plus your new traveling-mate, reluctantly wade into the water, feet sinking into the mud as you slowly trudge along. So much for getting to stay dry for one day.

Thankfully there is a good width of shallows, allowing you to make your way westward and into the thicker trees. You stop for this conversation just on the other side of the escarpment, before moving back up onto land.

Upon arriving back at the cart, Storm motions towards the supplies.

"Well no sense holding you around Tibor if what you say is true. These supplies belong to the camp and you. If you choose not to come with us, take whatever you wish before you depart."

Turning away from Tibor and ignoring him, Storm addresses the party.

"This one is curious to see what else is that logging camp and wouldn't mind spending some time documenting that beast. We could use a little rest anyways. Anyone care to join me?"

"I will join you in looking through the camp. I would still like to try and collect some of that acid from the creature."

"Be sure to tread lightly that we do not wake or disturb any more of the creatures that may still be below ground."

You manage to arrive at the cart without incident, Winnifred standing in place as well-behaved as ever, partially hitched. Tibor listens to Storm's words, then casts a wary glance at the dark tree line surrounding the camp.

"Well, I really had envisioned accompaniment to the edge of the forest, at least. You don't seriously mean to stick around here with those things on the hunt, do you? I assure you there's nothing of significant value to be found among the remains of my simple logging camp."

Cain gives Tibor a very stern look, "We don't work for you. You can wait here until we're ready to go, and come with us as far as the forest's edge towards our next destination."

He turns to the others and continues, "If we need to get the corpse, maybe do that first. Would it be possible to rope it with an arrow and drag it here? Alternatively, we can tie a rope to one of us and drag them back at the sense of danger ... We don't know how many more there are."

"If we can bring the corpse to safety here by the cart, this one would appreciate it. And then you can check out this...simple logging camp while I set to work on documenting and extracting the acids. Unless Govath wishes to help me with that."

Tibor grumbles to himself briefly, then climbs onto the back of the cart, sitting with his arms crossed, apparently prepared to wait.

"I will join Storm in retrieving the corpse, best to be safe not moving alone."

Govath heads out, treading carefully as to not draw attention to his movements.

"I'll watch yer back from here."

1d20 (7) + 7 = 14

1d20 (4) + 6 = 10

As Govath and Storm make their way back to the southernmost collection of tents, it's discovered that the rope isn't quite long enough to make it to the corpse. A moment is spent as Govath procures his rope, fastening it securely to Storm's. At a distance, it's easier for Cain and Ruggo to notice how ridiculous the staggered, uneven movements look - but they seem to be proving effective, as both reach the corpse without incident and get to work wrapping the other end of the rope around the fallen creature's appendages.

Winnifred walks backward down the southwestern path, her powerful frame having no trouble dragging the corpse across the muddy ground, leaving a small trench leading to the cart. You direct her to stop as the body reaches the cart itself. Tibor catches glimpse of it and recoils with a mix of fear and disgust.

1d20 (16) - 1 = 15

As Storm awkwardly walks back toward the cart, Govath sets out on his investigation of the remaining areas of the camp. A cursory look over the tent areas shows little extra of interest - the burned away fabric certainly indicates a previous attack by the burrowing creatures, and disturbances in the ground do suggest people were dragged around. The loggers had little of real value, and most of what remains is similar to the supplies you brought here on the cart - though in one tent, you do find a silver locket containing a picture of a woman and female child, presumably someone's wife and daughter.

Moving around the piles of logs toward the demolished cabin in the centre of the camp, you notice that unlike the current cabin, this one had been built on a stone foundation. A thin layer of dirt and grass hides this fact from a distance, but it's clear the moment you step into the area that the creatures would not be able to burrow up into it.

Feeling a little more secure here, you pause to take a closer look at the rubble, particularly the large pile of stones where the old chimney appears to have collapsed. And there, as the sun peeks out through the passing clouds above, you catch the glint of something shiny.

Approaching the pile of rubble, you see an object that definitely looks out of place. It seems to be some sort of crude totem - several small stick figures bound together by what looks like a lock of greasy hair. The entire object is tinted a deep red as though dipped in blood that has now dried.

The object rests near the top of the rubble, but partially covered by small pieces of debris, suggesting it had been half-heartedly - or perhaps hastily - hidden from view.

Govath begins to shift aside the debris and removes the strange totem from the pile so he can look at it more closely.

Standing up he projects his voice back to the group. "Found a strange totem over here."

Cain shouts back, "Okay, just be careful! Any signs of any other survivors?"

"Plenty of signs others have been dragged off, but no signs of survivors yet."

Govath says while moving towards the edge of the cabin's foundation. Pausing before stepping off he rolls the totem out onto the ground and waits to see if it draws any creatures attention.

The totem is still rolling off of Govath's fingers when suddenly the earth bursts open at three separate points surrounding the ruined cabin. The familiar creatures all stare directly at the lone Dwarf, rear their heads back, and expel a stream of acid in his direction as the totem lands on the ground and rolls a short distance on the grass.

Govath does his best to dodge out of the way of each spray of acid that flies in his direction. He does a decent job, likely saving his life, but he still feels the burning sensation where splashes catch his armour and skin, dealing significant damage.

The agile dwarf runs toward the cart, feeling a fresh empathy for Tibor, scooping up the mysterious totem on the way. He makes it there safely, but the creatures give chase.

Storm casts Bane, hindering one of the creatures, while Ruggo and Govath fire arrows. Cain ensures that everyone has made it to the cart, and then urges Winnifred forward, but unfortunately the pace is not enough to outrun the pursuers. At Cain's suggestion, Tibor begins shoving some supplies off the back of the cart - but as one of the creatures spews acid over the entire thing, he falls unconscious.

The other two creatures scurry quickly in front of the cart, blocking Winnifred's path. Cain unleashes another of his Lightning Bolt spells, dealing significant damage to the creatures but not halting their attacks. Between the acid and a large chunk of flesh lost to a bite from one of the creatures, Winnifred succumbs to death.

The cart fully halted, the creatures seem to ignore the barrage of attacks sent against them, instead swarming Govath. One falls to a mighty strike of his rapier, but a second lifts him off the cart in powerful jaws, rendering him unconscious. The rest of the party swiftly puts down the two remaining creatures, leaving Govath on the ground and Tibor in the cart, both unconscious, and Wynn's wonderful Winnifred deceased.

"This one will tend to Govath, someone check on Tibor's condition."

1d20 (19) + 2 = 21

You do your best to carefully wash away the acid using water from your skin and bandage the wounds from the bites. Govath's breathing and heartbeat stabilize, and you feel he's going to be just fine.

Cain puts his weapons away, turns to Rowan and says, "You take care of Tibor.", as he jogs to the front of the cart to see the state of Winnefred. Kneeling down, and seeing her lifeless, he pats her on the head and says, "Thanks for all your help."

Cain stands up and addresses the party. "We need to get patched up, but we shouldn't stay here too long, no doubt some creatures will start poking their nose at the scent of these corpses."

He then goes to unhitch Winnefred from the cart.

1d20 (13) + 4 = 17

Tibor's skin was very pale and his breathing slow, and you can tell he wouldn't last much longer had you not attended to him. However, you manage to get him stabilized, his sudden loud snoring a clear indicator that he should be alright after some rest.

"Search him."

1d20 (8) + 1 = 9
Ruggo nods to Storm and searches Tibor's sleeping form.

"By the way, what was that yeh took from the dwarf in such a hurry'n threw it away?"

"It was that totem Govath said he found. These creatures attacked him shortly after he informed us he found it. During the fight, they seemed focused on him, even when Cain stood in their way. If the thing is a curse than best it's away from us. Or at least we should rest without it near..."

"It'd be a good idea teh ask ol' Tibor here about it, wouldnt yeh say?"

You search Tibor's body and only find two things of interest - a letter, and a coin-purse containing 3sp and 7cp.

Ruggo puts the coin purse back in Tibor's pocket, but slaps the letter against his palm.

"Reckon there's any plans in here?"

"Ruggo folds the letter back up and hands it to Storm.

"Somethin' iffy bout the wording there. At face value it's innocent enough but what do yeh think?"

The Firbolg then goes to the unconscious body of his dwarf friend and lays his hands on him casting Cure Wounds."

Gasping for air Govath sits straight upright from his place on the ground.

Looking back and forth seeing the calm composure of everyone around, quick pats his pockets for the totem.

"We need to get out of this forest, that totem seemed to do something, what happened to it? It seems to have disappeared."

While reading over the contents of the letter, Storm replies with a wave towards to the logging camp.

"This one took it and threw it as far as possible back in the direction of where we came. Oh, and I also grabbed your rapier when you went unconscious for some extra power."

Govath look in the direction storm points.

"I was thinking it could be an interesting item to study, however the safer option would be to leave it."

"Were you able to slay any more of these creatures with it? I have a vague recollection of killing one before everything went black."

Storm folds the letter carefully and replies to Govath.

"This one agrees though not before we rest first. The totem might come in handy on our adventures though if it is cursed, we would need to find a way to transport it safely. We managed to kill the other two after you slew one and got grabbed. Ruggo has healed you and stabilized Tibor. This letter was found in his pockets and we were just reading its contents. It's a letter from his brother Harbin of whom Waterdeep has appointed as overseer in a restoration project of an old mining town. A place called Phandalin. The letter also praises Tibor's business endeavours here in the logging camp, though it doesn't seem like there are any hidden motives. Just simply a business man capitalizing on the lumber trade of this forest."

"If anyone wants to read it, here it is. Otherwise, Ruggo can put it back where he found it."

Storm holds out the letter.

"Doesn't like anything to suspicious. We should figure out what we're going to do for the night, and what our next plans are. If we're going to continue on with the plans to deal with the orcs, we'll be travelling on foot from here on out."

Cain continues rummaging through the contents of the cart.

The cart doesn't seem to contain any money or magic items such as potions, but it does have some objects that may be of interest. You find three lengths of chain, each ten feet long, a few crowbars and hunting traps, four hooded lanterns along with ten flasks of oil, a crate full of hempen rope, two shovels, a signal whistle, twenty torches, a two-person tent, fifty iron spikes, five hammers and twelve bars of soap.

Additionally, you do find a handful of letters addressed to members of the camp. Scanning through them, they're mostly from family members, and don't contain any information particularly interesting.

Cain takes all the mail and the signal whistle. He then lets the group know of the contents in case anyone wanted to take anything with them.

"Alright, while we wait for Tibor to stir, let's figure out our next steps."

Ruggo rummages through the contents in the cart and tosses Govath a bar of soap.

"Not implyin' anything, mate." And gives him a wink.

He then grabs a hunting trap and puts it in his pack.

Govath catches the bar.

"I will take a second if there are more. I do tend to forget soap when stocking up for a trip."

"Well if we're taking a rest..." Storm eyes the corpses.

"How 'bout we rest on the cart?"

Storm mutters to himself as he begins...

"This one hopes the others don't mind staying here for a few hours, this will take a while..."

As Ruggo slowly creeps toward the centre of the camp with Detect Magic active, he does get a glimpse of an aura around the small totem. It appears to glow with Enchantment magic, but the glow is faint.

1d20 (15) + 4 = 19

After picking over the cart and gathering the bodies, the four of you settle in to tend to your wounds. Storm begins his diligent work of documenting the creatures' exoskeletal structure and Ruggo confirms the presence of an enchantment upon the mysterious totem. Tibor remains unconscious the entire time, happily snoring on the back of the cart.

As Cain begins carefully and slowly patrolling the perimeter, he has the thought to come low to the ground. Bending down to place his palms flat against the earth and silently listening, he can just make out faint vibrations. Something is moving, fairly slowly, just beneath the earth - and is heading in the direction of the discarded totem.

"That thing yeh threw away Red, it's enchanted forsure. I bet the cause of these buggas attackin'. My money is on our good friend here." and nods at the unconscious Tibor.

"That letter mentioned he has a habit of tryin' ridiculous business endeavours... I'd say sabotagin' a logging business for insurance money by being the only survivor of a freak beast attack could fall under that category."

Arm deep inside the exterior shell of the Ankheg, Storm gives some thought to that point.

"That is possible. If it's enchanted or cursed, then someone put it there. Or maybe it's been there for a long time but remained dormant until something caused it to awaken recently. Regardless, it serves one purpose and that's bad news."

"This one will ask him when he awakes from his nap."

Cain arrives in time to hear the two conversing, and confirming Rowan's suspicion, he says "I just did a bit of a scout around. I could feel some of them moving below us, but they're moving in the direction of that totem. Definitely something fishy about the whole thing."

To Storm's point, he adds, "If Tibor is not the root of all this, we should at least find out who was living in that building prior to the attack.".

Cain continues to scout around, keeping a watchful eye on Tibor for when he eventually stirs.

1d20 (8) + 6 = 14
Cain is careful of where he's stepping to avoid detection. Also, never straying too far from the group.

"The totem seemed to be intentionally placed. It also looked to be a ritualistic piece in its construction."

Govath says while leaning back against the pile of supplies in the cart.

"I wonder if removing the dried blood would bring these creatures to a halt, and maybe reactivated at a future time by reapplying the blood."

"Well in any case, I don't reckon goin' back fer it is an option at this point."

"But imagine the usefulness if we could find a way to transport it safely...plant that among the orcs that have attached Butterskull Ranch, our next destination."

Storm laughs at the way he pronounced "attack"

"Attack. Attached. Common is a hard language for this one sometimes."

"I was thinkin' the same thing. That could be a powerful weapon if controlled."

"I didn't seem to me that the creatures would suddenly appear though, they would have to travel to the destination. Even if we had it, we couldn't guarantee their arrival. Besides, it's a pretty cruel thing to do to creatures who are otherwise living their own lives beneath the surface."

"Well it still is too dangerous to bring either way. These creatures will just follow and cause problems the whole way. We should leave it and report it to the Lances."

1d20 (9) + 6 = 15
Ruggo starts carving meat off of ol' Winnifred the ox careful to not damage the bone structure.

Ruggo does a decent job of preparing the meat, dealing out portions to each of you that should cover a full-day's worth of meals. Meanwhile, Cain continues his cautious patrol, treading softly upon the ground, occasionally bending down to hear more of the creatures burrowing just beneath the surface. A second hour passes, Tiber continues to snore, but you all begin to feel uneasy. The longer you wait, the less likely a clean exit from the camp seems.

Furthermore, Cain casts a glance toward the tree line to the south and notices something that puts him on edge. Off in the distance, barely visible between the dark trunks, is a boar. It stands still, staring in the direction of the camp. In fact, Cain could swear that at one point it made direct eye contact with him.

Each party member gets: 2 Rations, 2 Water (from the river - up to max of 3)

Cain starts to become a little anxious, and returns to the group. "We should start moving soon, carry Tibor if we have to. If we stay much longer, we're going to be looking at spending the night near this camp, and who knows the nighttime habits of these creatures."

He pauses for a moment, "Also, I saw that boar again ... the one from before we entered the camp. It was watching again, it's almost unnatural."

"Mayhaps it ain't a real boar at all."

Storm doesn't pay much mind to the dangers Cain is expressing, distracted with a particular part of the drawings in his Tome.

"Do you think this boar is following us? Since this one won't have time to document Winnifred, let alone these creatures, then maybe this boar will do...Anyways decide when we should be on our way, but this one will continue work until the moment we leave. Unfortunately this entry will likely go unfinished..."

Ruggo scratches at his beard and spits.

"We should follow it. See where it goes. An' if I kin get close enough I can talk teh it."

He looks to the others to see how they react.

Cain shrugs, "Our current plan is to go to the Orc camp and deal with the problem there, a problem you were really interested in solving. It's also late afternoon, the sun is going to set soon and this forest is about to get real dark. Not to mention, we're a totem throw away from where we know there's plenty of danger."

Turning to reply to Storm, he says, "I say we have another 30 minutes and we should start moving."

"In the meantime, let's settle on the plan ... keeping in mind we have Tibor to question and deal with. So follow a boar or leave the forest towards the ranch?"

Cain nods, and turns to Govath, "What do you think?"

"My vote would be to head for the ranch. We have already seen once what happens when we are delayed in arriving at a destination."

Govath says while gesturing towards the remains of the camp.

"The sooner we arrive at the ranch, the better chance there are still survivors from the orc attacks."

"The boar, if it is indeed more than a boar, can approach us if aid is required."

"The posting for the ranch said it was under attack by orcs and to go there with haste. Though we probably ruined that with a detour to the lighthouse and here. The ranch has probably suffered the same fate as here by now."

"Following the boar for a little short distance probably won't make much of a difference now. Besides, we are travelling faster without driving the cart through the forest."

"If there is even a small chance of survivors, the ranch should be the highest priority. Let's follow the boar for only as long as it goes in that direction."

"Like Govaths says, it's certainly more than a boar, but if they want something from us then they're welcome to ask."

"In the meantime, who's going to carry Tibor if he's not yet awake in thirty minutes?"

"I will makeshift a sled we can drag with him on it. It will be a rough ride for him, but good encouragement to wake up."

Govath collects an extra tent, rope, scrap wood and uses the next half hour to makeshift a sled to drag Tibor behind on.

1d20 (10) + 4 = 14

Within a few minutes of your continued watch, you glance back toward the tree line and the boar is gone.

Another half-hour passes, and the camp remains eerily silent. Tibor continues snoring away.

Cain returns to the group, "Alright, I think it's time to go. Govath, is that sled ready?"

"Just about." Govath says while tying the final knot securing the rope to pull the sled. "All it is missing now is the unconscious body of Tibor."

Govath drags Tibor's body over and on to the sled.

"If you all are ready. Let us make our way to the orcs."

Looking almost as healthy and energized as ever after that rest, Ruggo cracks his knuckles and grabs onto the sled.

"Righto! Orcs... excellent."

"Ready, let's go."

2d20kl1 (3, 14) + 6 = 9

2d20kl1 (2, 2) + 6 = 8

2d20kl1 (18, 20) + 7 = 25

You gather your things and begin your awkward walk away from the camp and into the trees. Govath and Ruggo head up pulling the wooden sled, which slides through the mud relatively smoothly, much to your relief.

Every step feels like a life-threatening risk, and your hearts pound so intensely that you almost worry the vibration will be enough to draw the creatures up. You nearly have a heart-attack when you hear ground break behind you. You whip around just in time to see Winnifred's last remains pulled beneath the earth by a powerful set of jaws. You take the opportunity to quicken your pace and put as much distance between you and the cursed totem as possible.

Once you are a satisfactory distance into the forest depths, you return to your regular gait. A few moments later, Tibor comes sputtering back to consciousness.

"Wha...what happened? Am I safe? What's going on?"

Rowan drops his end of the sled.

"Good, yeh can walk."

Tibor begins to get up, wincing in pain as he looks down and notices the holes that the acid burned through his furs. Once standing, he does his best to brush off his clothes and look dignified, but it doesn't work very well. He looks ragged, timid, and worn.

"What happened to the cart? Is this all that's left of it?"

Cain continues pressing forward while answering Tibor, "Yes, and now that you're up, you best keep up. We're not entirely safe yet."

After a few seconds of focusing on scanning the area, he says, "Who lived in the stone building at the center of your camp?"

"Stone buildi...? Oh! You mean the old cabins. Listen, I'll be honest - I'm not the first person to set up a logging camp along the river in Neverwinter Wood. Just the most successful. A few years back some others tried - no business sense. Operation was too expensive. Housed their workers in full-on cabins, can you believe it? Probably paid them more than they deserved too. They were hiring mercenaries and adventurers not only to deliver supplies to camp, but to take the lumber out to the towns as well. It's no wonder they went under!

Anyway, when I came along, the cabins were already in shambles. Tore the lot of 'em down and set up a much more efficient company. Of course, all that is sadly over...

No matter, though. A smart businessman always has other ideas ready to go. Now then, if you could just see me to the nearest major road..."

"We are already on a major road, continue along it and you will find a town to seek lodging."

"Stick with us, and you can redeem yourself and save a village from orcs."

Tibor takes a confused look around at the dense trees and lack of beaten trail.

"Er...well I'm afraid I'd be of no use against orcs, you see. My strength is brain, not brawn! And let's call it the forest's edge then, if this is your idea of a major road."

"General direction of a town at least. Ruggo, will we pass a town on the way to the orcs?"

"I'll take us teh Triboar Trail and he can head back west towards Phandalin."

"The Triboar Trail? Phandalin? That suits me perfectly - my brother runs that mining town. He'll be able to set me back up again."

"I hope you are not fool enough to set up in the same area.

Perhaps you had best stay with your brother in Phandalin. Enough honest men have lost their lives to your endeavours recently."

"Oh, you mean back in the Neverwinter Wood? No, I think that ship has sailed, sadly. I think this time I'll be sure to set up somewhere safer. And hopefully a little more comfortable, too. An office with a warm fire in the business district of Neverwinter, perhaps. The sky's the limit, I say - only a matter of time before I'll be up to my eyeballs in profits, and this whole mess will be all but forgotten!"

Thinking to himself, Govath weighs Tibor's new endeavour against the risk of more lives being lost in his employ. Realizing that Tibor's social skills are lacking, Govath is not worried about anyone's future safety.

Nodding to the group. "Let us not dally any long with this one and hurry on to deal with some orcs."

The four of you, with Tibor in tow, make your way southeast through the forest, following Ruggo's expert guidance. He frequently scouts ahead, moving silently over the fallen leaves and twigs in a manner befitting a skilled hunter.

The distance to the Triboar Trail is more than can be covered in the remaining hours of daylight, so a suitable clearing is found to spend the night. Conscious of the many dangers which lurk in the Neverwinter Wood, you do a thorough search of the perimeter to ensure no dark creature lingers, waiting to make you its prey.

Tibor, not accustomed to moving at the pace that Ruggo has been keeping and still feeling the pain of the injuries he sustained, waits for the all-clear and then immediately seats himself on the nearest rock he can find.

"I, uh...don't suppose one of you gentlefolk brought an extra tent? Or bedroll, at least?"

"Extra? No, but yeh can use mine. I'll sleep beneath the stars t'night."

Tibor mumbles words of thanks, accepts the bedroll and almost immediately passes out.

Cain and Ruggo decide to alternate the watch, Ruggo sleeping first to rest from his leading through the woods. Your sleep is undisturbed - save for the occasional unpleasant snort coming from Tibor's unconscious body.

14th day of Eleasis (Highsun)

You awake to the first drops of rain slipping their way through the dense canopy above. A drop lands squarely in Tibor's open mouth, causing him to sputter awake frantically and likely scaring off a few small woodland creatures. Packing up quickly, Ruggo continues to lead southeast through the forest.

Traveling away from the river gives you all a better appreciation for just how dense and large the Neverwinter Wood is. Near the river, things felt open, sparse, and the light of day could be seen overhead. Here, it feels like the forest is squeezing in on you from every side, and you get the impression that sound of falling rain is masking several scarier sounds just out of sight.

After a few hours, the trees begin to thin, and you see the Triboar Trail in the distance. By noon, you hit it, and prepare to finally part ways with Tibor.

"Well, I suppose this is where we part ways. I'll be sure to remember you lot when I'm schmoozing with the nobles of Waterdeep! Er...what were your names again?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm sure you'll have lots of success should you make it bake to Waterdeep safely. Good luck on your travel."

And giving not a moment passage, Cain turns to the others, "Okay, so what's the plan? Onward and forward to Butterskull Ranch? Though, with the amount of time that's passed, I'm worried about what we're going it find ..."

Tibor ruffles a little at being so quickly dismissed, but recovers quickly.

"Well, have it your way then! Best of luck out there - here's hoping none of us ever have to encounter those ghastly creatures ever again!"

And with this, he turns westward and begins walking down the Triboar Trail toward Phandalin. You quickly lose sight of him in the heavy rain, and have very little confidence that he will arrive without getting lost, killed, or both.

Ruggo turns his back on Tibot and kicks some dirt in that direction with his boot.

"We head to the ranch, an' prolly into an Orc encampment. Yeh ready fer another fight?"

"This one has experienced the brutish nature of orcs in the jungles. We have taken much time to reach Butterskull ranch but we can probably find some clues as to where this camp is from there."