The morning sunlight streamed through the windows of The Whispering Oak Tavern, casting a warm and inviting glow throughout the rustic establishment. As the party descended the wooden staircase, they were greeted by the comforting sounds of patrons conversing and the tantalizing aroma of breakfast cooking in the tavern's kitchen.
Walking downstairs, they couldn't help but overhear snippets of conversation from the locals. Tales of Greenwick and its surrounding mysteries flowed through the air like whispered secrets.
Upon reaching the ground floor, the party was greeted by the owner of the establishment, a woman in her mid-40s with a warm and welcoming presence. Her name was Elara, a name that resonated with the warmth of her personality. She had chestnut hair, with a few strands of silver that added character to her appearance. Elara's deep brown eyes sparkled with kindness and curiosity.
"Good morning, dearies!" she exclaimed with a cheerful smile. "I've got your breakfast all set and ready. Sit down, sit down. It's such a beautiful morning, isn't it?"
With a motherly touch, Elara served them a hearty breakfast, engaging them in conversation as she did. She inquired about their adventures in the forest, eager to hear their tales and share her own experiences. Elara's apron bore the marks of countless meals prepared with care, a testament to her dedication to her patrons
At a nearby table, an old dwarf sat, his long white beard flowing down to his chest. His eyes were a deep, ancient blue, reflecting wisdom that came with age. It's the same dwarf who had enjoyed a hearty drink the previous night. Thrain was engaged in conversation with other lodgers, discussing his mission to collect gems for his village.
He explained that his tribe hailed from the northern lands and were renowned masters of crafting weapons and armor. Their craftsmanship was highly sought after, and they had received numerous client orders. However, fulfilling these orders required a vast quantity of gems, which were usually abundant in their homeland. Unfortunately, their mines had fallen into the hands of ogres who disrupted their gem mining.
The party, their plates piled high with Elara's delicious breakfast, found themselves drawn to the lively conversation at the dwarf's table. With a friendly nod, they approached the old dwarf, intrigued by the tale of his mission.
Toras, extended a hand, introducing himself first. "Mornin', I'm Toras, and this here's Einar," he gestured to the towering barbarian beside him, "and Ghost Echo," he nodded to their enigmatic assassin companion.
Thrain returned the nod and grasped Toras's hand firmly. "Pleasure to meet ya, Toras. Names Thrain Ironforge, and I reckon yer a curious bunch. I was just sharin' the tale of my quest for gems for our village here."
The party took their seats, listening intently as Thrain recounted their tribe's legacy of craftsmanship. Einar, the robust barbarian, leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. "So, Thrain, what's so special 'bout these gems? Must be somethin' mighty important if yer riskin' the ogres and all."
Thrain's eyes gleamed with a mixture of pride and determination. "Aye, Einar. These gems, they're the heart of our craft. Our weapons and armor, they're renowned across the north, and it's these gems that make 'em truly exceptional. They're used in the finest of our works."
Ghost Echo, usually silent and observant, couldn't help but join in. "And the ogres? What makes them so troublesome?"
Thrain sighed, his gaze distant as he recalled the recent turmoil. "Ogres ain't the sharpest, but they're a brutish lot. They occupy our mines, disrupt our gemmin', and worse, they've been stirrin' up trouble for the hippogriffs. That's why we've got to venture into these perilous lands."
As the conversation continued, Thrain shared more about his tribe's struggles and the importance of these gems for their people. The party began to understand the gravity of the dwarf's mission and its implications for the region. Each member of the party offered their own words of encouragement and admiration for Thrain's determination.
After a heartfelt conversation, Thrain bid the party farewell, explaining that he had to set forth on his journey to the mines. As he left the tavern, the party couldn't help but admire the resilience of this old dwarf and the deep connection between his people and the gems they sought.
As the party left the tavern, they were greeted by a friendly male dog named Rusty. Rusty was a mixed breed with shaggy fur, and his wagging tail and eager eyes showed he was delighted to see them again. Einar, in particular, couldn't resist giving Rusty a hearty scratch behind the ears before they set off towards Arachnid's Forest.
Feature roll 1d12 = 2 = Ruins & Relics
Roll 1d20 = 6 = Refuse
Roll 1d6 = 1 = Opal
Roll 1d6: Opal Type = 5 = Fat
Roll 1d6: Conditions = 2 = Unusable
Encounter roll 1d12 = 12 = No encounter
Encounter roll 1d12 = 10 = No encounter
The journey through the forest was uneventful for the most part, with Toras finding refuge in the shadow of the trees to shield himself from the constant light. As they walked deeper into the forest, they stumbled upon something unusual—a relic half-buried in the forest floor.
The relic was a curious object, its surface disfigured by age. It appeared to be a fat opal, once radiant with color but now dulled and cracked. Ghost Echo examined it closely, his keen eyes discerning its worth. "Seems like a forgotten treasure," he remarked. "But it's unusable in this state."
Einar scratched his head, considering the relic. "Shame it ain't in better condition. Could fetch a fair price if it were." Toras nodded in agreement, and they carefully left the relic behind, continuing their journey.
Feature roll 1d12 = 9 = Temple & Shrine
I have already rolled all the details for this temple, but I will only reveal them according to the story's progress.
Roll 1d20: Temple protection = 14 = Walls of fire
Roll 1d6: Walls height = 1 = 12 feet
Roll 1d6: Moat creatures = 1 = Crocodiles
After hours of walking, the party noticed a distant red-orange light flickering through the trees. It resembled a fire but seemed oddly out of place in the forest. The sense of danger hung in the air, prompting them to move silently and cautiously.
They reached a clearing with a surprise awaiting them—a moat filled with menacing crocodiles. On the other side of the moat, towering fire pillars rose about 12 feet high, forming a formidable barrier. It was as if they guarded whatever lay beyond the wall.
Toras spoke in a hushed tone, "This is no ordinary obstacle. We need to find a way to deal with those crocs and, especially, those flames. Any ideas?"
Einar furrowed his brow, surveying the situation. "It ain't gonna be easy. Maybe there's a way to deactivate those fire pillars, but we'll have to be careful. Crocs don't look too friendly either."
Ghost Echo remained vigilant, his eyes scanning the surroundings. "Let's take some time to observe and plan our next move. We don't want to rush into this recklessly."
The party huddled together, their minds racing with possibilities. The moat and the mysterious fire pillars posed a daunting challenge, but their determination to uncover the secrets of the Shadowveil Mine and Arachnid's Forest burned as brightly as the flames before them.
8 hours has passed
As the party pressed onward on their journey to the southeast, following the meandering course of the Silvershade River, the sky above them wore a heavy overcast cloak. The impending evening felt laden with the promise of rain, as if the heavens themselves were about to weep.
encounter roll on the road 1d12 = 8 = no encounter
Deep within the forest, their cautious steps stirred the fallen leaves and twigs underfoot. Darkness began to descend upon them, prompting the need to light a torch. Its feeble flame danced and flickered, casting eerie shadows that seemed to waltz with the encroaching night.
Next hex roll 1d20 = 9 = forest
Feature roll 1d12 = 9 = temples & shrines
Temple & shrine configuration 1d10 = 7 = square
Temple & shrine condition 1d10 = 9 = ruins
Temple & shrine built of 1d20 = 7 = wood
Temple & shrine size 1d10 = 1 = one story
Two hours passed, and amidst the dimly lit woods, they spotted a distant square-shaped structure. Determined, they set their course for this enigmatic building. Arriving at the old wooden building, they could see that it had crumbled over time, barely recognizable in its decay. An uneasy feeling hung in the air, hinting at possible secrets concealed within its weathered walls.
But tiredness had taken its toll on the party. Their bodies were sore from the day's travel, and the idea of investigating further had to be put on hold. They opted to rest in the protective embrace of the forest, alert to any potential dangers lurking in the encroaching darkness.
Einar torch -1
all party rations -1
End of Day 4