DM Golem wrote:In the Misty Forest, those travelling or hunting orc may happen upon, here and there over the next few days, the skeletons of forest animals and stray orcs. They are picked clean of flesh, and often the plants around them seem burned away by acid.
((if any wish to investigate please post or PM with your survival modifier, plus any other relevant skills))
A warm and stinky day
The day was calm when Deacon set out for another hike. But the weather was brewing already. Insects buzzed along bussily, while birds and other small woodland critters sat silent, trying to conserve their energy and keep cool during the warm and humid day. Summer had reached the Sword Coast - and the regular rainfall from the Sea of Swords and the nearby Delimbiyr's offshoot made for a damp, wet heat throughout the forest. A heavy and thick blanket of warmth. Too thick.
Deacon dabbed his sweaty little forehead with the tip of his beard. "Pfooh! Sure is warm today. How art thou feeling, Nibbles?" - Nibbles the badger did not answer. Instead he dragged himself along, slowly but surely, conserving his energy. He looked beat. As did Fluff the bunny, who seemed to stick to the shade of thick ferns and other such undergrowth.
"Yes, well... Perhaps Deacon should have left thee at home then? The thick walls of our home would surely keep the heat out. Although... Did Deacon shut the shutters today? Oh, he sure hopes he did! Would not want that sunlight to fill our home and heat it like a glass lantern. No sirree!"
Deacon and the animals trekked along. In their wake a wolf. "Hello, Woof! Good tidings to thee. Joining us for a bit of a stroll then?"
Before long they stumbled upon something that made Deacon's stomach turn. "Oh dear! What haveth we here?!"
A score of carcasses lay in the warm summer sun. Filling the air - and Deacon's nostrils - with the stench of rot and decay.
The usual carcass would normally not trouble Deacon that much. But here lay several - picked clean of their flesh - with a few rotting innards creating an orchestra of foul smells. Were they an orchestra of sound, Deacon would have been deaf by now. But instead the nauseating stench made Deacon plug his nostrils with the rolled up leafs from a nearby bramblebush.
"Dear me! Dear Chauntea! What could have passed through here with such appetite? And why is the grass here scorched as if by acid or fire? Most peculiar, thinks this Deacon." Having spoken these words, the little bearded man wandered closer to the carnage of gore of and bone:
Deacon looked around the site, searching for oddities or anything that would peek his eye. (rolled spot)
The little elder then began to study the remains and the grass and scorched plantlife around this terrible scene. Looking for clues. Anything that could match up; determining what creature or event could have caused such carnage - teeth, clawmarks, anything. (rolled survival)
Deacon would begin to cross-reference what he discovered with what he knows. Centuries of study into the wild; be it beast, plant, natural or magical in nature. (rolled lore)
Finally, Deacon would scoop up some of the remains. Bits of scorched plant and earth to be bottled for later study. Even bits of innard and scraps of flesh (if any remained). (rolled alchemy)
