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Chapter 1: Hollows Last Hope
Lucian was mildly used to marching in the Andoren Military, so this particular march wasn't as bad on him as it was on the others.  Still, marching was one of those things that he'd rather avoid.  Usually he would hop a wagon or something along those lines as being a wizard in the military affording him a touch more luxury than the average soldier.  The ache in his legs and back were pretty pronounced as they finally made it to he lumber camp, but the young wizard didn't complain.  The military had definitely drilled that out of him. Though, Maybe investing in a horse one of these days seemed like a solid monetary goal as he stretched his sore muscles and cracked his strained ligaments.  The upside was that the really did enjoy the fresh air and scenery, though a nice campfire and rest would be far more to his liking. 

As they met the foreman, Lucian listened quietly as Dunderrro and Breezy spoke with the man.  He also looked for a nice dry spot, slightly elevated with some soft grass for camping.
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Jariben looked down at the strange plant creature and stood there, forcing himself to speak to it. just 2 days ago. the beast is intelligent. lays traps that snag workers and then runs out of the woods and grabs them and runs off with them. Its gray furred, speaks and big as a small horse.
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After finishing her delicious breakfast, and hearing Lucian's call to hit the road, Harley slipped into her backpack and slung her huge war maul onto her shoulder. With a bright smile that didn't quite reflect in her eyes, she left the comfort of the inn for the road. 

Trekking along, she eventually warmed up as the exertion of walking and carrying the weight of her gear and weaponry began to take it's toll, by lunch time, she was more then ready to set her ass down and relax a bit. When they finally reached the logging camp, she was determined to hire a servant to carry her stuff from now and muttered under her breath about killing and skinning the werewolf and using it's fur as a cloak.
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Breezy nods as he hears the description of the wolf. A talking wolf doesn't seem to surprise him, but as he thinks about it. Breezy considers if that is the way a normal wolf acts. As he reflects on the nature of wolves, Breezy asks a follow up question. "Where and when was the last attack or sighting?"



Nature: 1d20+7=10
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Breezy has no knowledge of how wolves operate, as he isnt even on their list of prey so he didnt need to know.  The Camp Foreman says with even a bit of fear in his eyes as he speaks, remembering the event,  The last was 2 days ago as I said. It was early morning we were marking trees to cut, and a spike trap had been set so anyone stepping on it wouldnt be able to run. It was within a hundred yards of the camp over to the west there. I followed the tracks to the river as the beast had run off carrying the worker in that direction. Its obvious it crossed through at the shallows. It has to be strong to carry a man in its mouth across the river.
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In the morning? Was it light outside? Harley asked suddenly, even her limited knowledge of wolves knew that they were most active during the nighttime hours, thanks mom.
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The lumberjack shrugs and says yeah. It was. Early...but it was light. cant go marking trees in the dark.
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As a traveling merchant and salvage hauler, Toryn was used to lugging a bunch of nonsense around on his back, through he never racked up this much mileage at one time before. He was starting to chafe in places that certainly did not need chafing, but it was nothing that some nice soothing powder couldn't fix later. The thought of gold and adventure helped him push through the discomfort with a smile.

Toryn spent a few minutes politely off to the side adjusting his britches while the others asked the pertinent questions. He rejoined the group and nodded sagely after listening to what the woodcutter had to say. Hmm, a trap-making wolf. This lends credence to the rumor that there may be a werewolf prowling about in these woods. Unless the wolves around here suddenly grew opposable thumbs and extra grey matter. I've seen something similar happen you know. This one time, my great grandfather's sheepdog spontaneously grew a second pair of testi- Toryn started to go off on another one of his tales again but then caught himself. Ahem. Yes, a story for another day perhaps.
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With a hardy breakfast in his gut Larz hit the road with a spring in his step, finally he was on the track of his Uncle. The early morning fresh air filling his lungs the young dwarf couldn't help but bellow out a dwarven marching cadence as they walked down the road. An ugly Ogre with greasy hair; He tried to climb the castle stair; I lured him in with an open door; And then his head it hit the floor. Sound off! When none of the other adventurers joined in the dwarf went silent focusing on putting on foot infront of the other. Having grown up in a military family Larz had been marching since he could walk. The marching was easy until the sun rose high in the sky. Larz was accustom to hiking through caverns and tunnels deep beneath the earth, he felt like he was in a furnace under the blazing sun. By the time the party reached the logging camp, Larz tunic and breachers were soaked, he was spent barely on his feat the sun had drained the strength from him.


After catching his breath while listening to what was said, then asked. Has a hunter named Barlus been here. I was asked by, Lady Cirthana Gensar, the priestess of Iomedae to see if I could find him he came here looking to hunt the wolf.
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Jarlben scowled at first then laughed and said Of course I remember The old man. He actually thought he might be able to bring the beast in himself. I told him how foolish that idea was. He came by about a week ago. Thought to use the camp as a base. I told him The Consortium doesnt allow people to use their lumbercamps as flophouses. suggested he try staying at Ulzmila's or Esara's and use one of those locations as his base of hunting. He headed off into the woods the next morning. Havent seen him since.
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A gaming group started in late 2005 when several members (from all over the world) came together on a long-running forum website called Plothook.net (formally known as Highmoon.net). Several games transformed from a by-the-book format to highly modified versions that became new hybrid systems with completely custom rules and abilities. Ten years later, these faithful players wanted to secure their work and their stories, becoming the basis of these forums.