Damn Elf Press

Day 2, Bree

Beck goes to the outdoor market in Bree. He is looking for someone willing to explore the fens, south of town. The young merchant guard he spoke with yesterday can’t be found. Perhaps he is making the southern leg of the trade route from the midlands up to the keep. None of the other guards look eager to participate. They all seem grizzled and weary of the constant bouts of travel punctuated with hours of drinking at some fleabag inn waiting to move on again.

Beck didn’t expect a company of warriors to join in. He had no promise of treasure yet, just the chance to muck through the fens and scare up a duck or two. He walked south out of Bree, past fallow fields, towards the western edge of the Spiritwood, and into the marshland.

Dried cattails and tall grass hid areas of water and patches of earth. Beck readied his sling in case small game crossed his path. He wandered into the marsh on a cloudy day. The weather was cold, but no snow for now. The cattails soon began to close in on the young man. It was at this moment that Beck noticed a path through the tall grass. It was either a game trail or something larger. Beck could not tell and was unable to find any distinct prints.

Beck pulled up his shield and readied his hatchet and began to move slowly along the damp path. [Attempts to sneak, 2d6~~fails roll]

[GM note ~ It was at this point where I decided to roll on my random encounter table for the Bree area. Beck’s first encounter and I roll ghouls! Six of them! Good grief!]

Beck continues until the grass opens up and a low mound of earth rises from the marsh. Standing on the mound are a half dozen stands of dead grass and cattails. They were pushed into crude shelters with a dark opening at the base of each.

The young adventurer froze in his tracks when he felt his foot break a stick. The snap echoed in the open area and Beck held his breath. From out of one of the grassy shelters came a mottled gray arm. The skin was blotchy and pale and ended in a hand of broken, black nails. A face appeared next and it was a horror of feral hunger. The creature smiled, showing its black gums and yellowed teeth. The teeth were sharp as if time were spent filing each one.

The creature sniffed the air, taking in quick, short breaths. Then, it cast its bloodshot eyes on Beck. Cocking its head like some demonic bird, it froze and then let out a bloodcurdling scream. Beck ran.

[GM note ~ Beck failed his sneak check, but won the initiative. I decide that he flees.]

Not daring to look back, Beck runs through the tangle of grass and muck. As he runs, he can hear the cry of his pursuer, and shortly after, a chorus of other snarling voices.

[GM note ~ I want Beck to run away. In game terms, I roll a 2d6. A success (8 or more) means he can get away. Result=7, Beck fails!]

Beck slips in a muddy depression and the creature is open him. Beck feels the creatures filthy nails tearing at his padded armor. He can smell the fetid odor of the beast. The stench of carrion fills the air. Beck rolls away from the creature and stumbles to his feet. The chase continues.

[GM note ~ I roll a check to see how close the Spiritwood may be. 1d6, 1=distant, 6=close, roll=6, the Spiritwood is nearby]

Beck feels the ground rise and sees a stand of woods. He rushes into the forest hoping to evade the creatures.

[GM note ~ I roll to see if the ghouls pursue their prey into the forest. Result=no, Something is holding them back]

Beck races into the woods, his heartbeat hammering in his ears. He runs on until he can go no further. There is no sign of his pursuer. He finds himself in the midst of a grove of large sycamore trees. To his amazement, the leaves are still clinging to the limbs. The sun is poking through the trees casting a dappled light on the forest floor. Even the air feels warmer here.

Beck leans against a tree, catching his breath. He looks to the west, watching for the creatures. Sensing nothing, he pulls his sword and adjusts his shield. From overhead, Beck hears a rustling sound, as if a flock of birds have landed in the tree. But these were no birds.

Dropping lightly from the trees come dozens of small green warriors. These tiny men are attired in leaf armor and hold tiny bows. Each of the men are no larger than three inches in height. Several land on a branch near Beck and one begins to speak. Beck cannot understand the words, but much of it sounds like elvish, at least the little elvish he as heard.

As the tiny men get no response, they make hostile gestures at Beck and point to the west. Beck tries to recite a bit of elven poetry that he had learned from one of the bards travelling through Bree. Several of the tiny leaf men begin to laugh, but this is cut short by a quick motion from one of the leaders standing on a limb.

Trying a different tactic, Beck offers them some of his rations. He gives them some hard cheese and crusty bread. The diminutive warriors swarm around him, taking the cheese and bread high up into one of the sycamores.

All through this encounter, Beck forgets to produce the silver token that Cornwall gave to him. [Note ~ I rolled for Beck to see if he would remember the token and he didn’t]

[Note ~ since Beck couldn’t speak elvish, I just rolled on the Moldvay Basic Dnd reaction table. Roll 2d6=7, result=neutral, uncertain.]

The leaf men eat Beck’s bread and cheese and then make motions that he should leave the woods. Each of them has a tiny bow with arrows that look like porcupine quills and they wear miniature swords. One of these may cause a slight pin prick or tiny cut, but dozens would add up to serious injury.

Beck makes a friendly gesture of goodbye and retraces his steps, moving west towards the fen. He would rather not go back towards the ghouls but his woodland friends offered no other choice for him to take.

[GM note ~ I rolled %dice to see if the ghouls were still in the area. I’ll post more about this process in the future. Result=yes! Uh oh…]

Beck moves quietly into the fens and in a heartbeat, he is confronted by a pack of six slavering creatures. Clothes hang in tatters from their gaunt frames. Several make a few tentative steps towards Beck, sizing up their prey.

[Beck has won the initiative. In Mywandr rules, 2d6 is rolled for each combatant, or in this encounter, Beck and then the ghouls as a group. Beck will fire a sling stone.]

Beck nervously loads his sling. Whipping the leather cord in a circle over his head, Beck launches one of the smooth sling stones at the approaching creature. The stone whistles past it, missing his target. The ghouls seem to smile as they move forward.

From out of the Spiritwood comes a fusillade of tiny arrows! One of the ghouls falls and two more are injured by the assault. The leaf men have come to Beck’s aid.

Two ghouls pause, uncertain about the missile fire. Three others move forward, anticipating fresh meat. They close the distance, unable to attack on this turn. Beck draws his sword and makes a hesitant swing at the lead ghoul, missing it.

Dozens of the tiny leaf men hop down from their trees and engage the ghouls in melee while others continue to rain arrows. Their tiny war cries sound like the chirping of angry sparrows.

Another ghoul falls from the whirlwind of sword cuts and one more is pincushioned by tiny arrows. Three ghouls remain, two are attacking Beck and one is a short distance away.

Beck feels a heavy blow against his shield as black nails scrape the battered metal. A second ghoul moves in close. Beck can smell its foul breath at it lunges at him. The ghoul’s black tongue juts past sharp teeth. It slashes at Beck’s arm, rending the padded armor and scratching him.

Beck steps backward and thrusts his sword at the foul creature, plunging the blade through its chest. The creature screams, clawing frantically at the blade. It falls away, dead.

The other ghoul has batted away several of the leaf men. They fall at the creature’s feet, unmoving. The leaf men continue their attack. From a distance it would look as if the ghoul were standing in a whirlwind of autumn leafs. The ghoul falls to the ground, torso covered in tiny slashes. The remaining ghoul breaks and runs, only to be brought down in a hail of leaf men arrows. The battle is over.

Beck kneels down to pick up one of the fallen leaf men. It is quickly grabbed by a pair of warriors and whisked back into the forest. Some appear to be unconscious, others no longer move. Aid is given to all of their comrades and then stand around Beck, watching him silently.

At this moment, Beck remembers the silver token that Cornwall had given him. [Note ~ He had forgotten to do this earlier. I made a die roll and had a poor result.] The leaf men look at the coin and one of them leaps to his hand and carries it away. Beck watches as they touch the coin and inspect it closely. It is returned to Beck and a chirping sound begins; not the war cries but a cheerful sound. They whirl around him, tousling his hair and placing leaves in it and then they hop away into the forest. Beck watches the Spiritwood for a moment and all is still again.

Beck examines his wounds. It is a small gash in his sword arm. He spends a brief moment to clean it with his waterskin and knows it will need more attention when he returns to Bree.

No treasure today, only injury and death. Beck is glad that it wasn’t his own. He wonders how many of the leaf men died in battle.

On his walk back to town, he remembers the crude hovels that the ghouls were using. Could there be any treasure? Tomorrow, Beck will return to search. If he can find an ally in town, so much the better.

More to come…

[GM note ~ It was a fun session. I was concerned when I rolled six ghouls for Beck’s encounter. I was also hoping the leaf men would ally with him sooner, but mediocre reaction rolls and Beck’s failure to remember the token of friendship, made the leaf men remain neutral. It is clear that they defend the Spiritwood and have no love for the ghouls.]