Rumors of the Southern Sword Coast

[mastajabba]

Since there where only three members of the Radiant Heart at the camp and they had to be personally escorted by Lord Aaron Lyonaler. As the camps rules from its inception any would be mischievous rascal would had been turned away for lack of proper escort.
The Radiant Scout followed the spider’s trail. Slowing down at the scene of the slain wild folk. The Radiant scout taking note of their equipment, or lack off. The type of wounds and locations. He then searched about trying to see if the spider had came first or after this skirmish site. He then followed the leader’s trail of blood until the sacred groove on the Lion’s Way. He paused not wanting to desecrate a holy site. Treating the groove as one would treat Helm’s or Mystra’a temple. Once the trail goes cold he pauses. His mind going over the evidence found.

“Familiar perhaps…?”

*Edited slightly to remove OOC commentary.*

[JustAnotherGirl]

Along her patrols, the High Ranger would disarm as many traps as she found that looked intended to hurt members of the Fist, the Enclave's allies in the battle against the Bhaal serving Gnolls. She would also warn others that traps were being set in the Cloakwoods and to be especially careful if they were heading in on their patrols.

She paused often along her patrols, listening to the trees and what the forests might whisper. When she found a safe spot to do so, she'd kneel and let her fingers rest on the earth while she communed with nature.

[Louvaine]

The Radiant Scout followed the spider’s trail. Slowing down at the scene of the slain wild folk. The Radiant scout taking note of their equipment, or lack off. The type of wounds and locations. He then searched about trying to see if the spider had came first or after this skirmish site. He then followed the leader’s trail of blood until the sacred groove on the Lion’s Way. He paused not wanting to desecrate a holy site. Treating the groove as one would treat Helm’s or Mystra’a temple. Once the trail goes cold he pauses. His mind going over the evidence found.

“Familiar perhaps…?”

Once found, Spider's tracks were easy to follow. Etched deep in foliage, confirming recklessness. The kind of recklessness one shows only in face of fear. Whatever scared the man so much was no longer there, but Radiant Scout's keen eyes would easily be able to notice an observant remaining in tree up above. An owl carved out of wood. It was crude attempt at art, easily contained in one's pocket. Left in branches it peacefully observed new camp from its elevation. There was no hint of magic, druidic or arcane, at display.

Further down the trail, where bodies were left, story was being painted clearer. Life was deliberately and bountifully carved out with two sharp tools. One slightly curved, perhaps knife or a sickle, the other straight and slightly longer, meant to wound deeply. Perhaps just a dagger, maybe a short sword. Killer ambushed wildfolk, or perhaps just stumbled upon their patrol. Skirmish erupted. Bigger footprints, belonging to escapee no doubt, moved to a dance-like manoeuvres. Jumping between interlopers he must've used curved knife to throw them off balance and the short sword to manifest his decision of murder. Most wounds were located somewhere near throats, few struck at internal organs. Everything must've played out within few heartbeats. Nothing, it seems, was taken from the bodies. Wildfolk lied with their eyes closed. Peace forced on their twisted, calm demeanour. Bloodied piece of dark cloth refusing to fall into the picture suggested Tovah was harmed. Trail leading forward mixed his blood with what no doubt dripped from knifes he decided not to sheathe going forward.

Spider must've made made few stops along the way. Not far off to the outskirts of forest, yet blood marks and footprints
near trees suggested rest was had before Cloakwood was free of its arachnid. Few rests, in fact. Perhaps wound was getting to him, or maybe escape took more from the man than his combat prowess suggested.

Last droplet of blood tainting the grass near old stones of druidic sacred site. Tracks lighter and lighter until barely visible. Spider didn't enter the circle. He moved past the stones into thickets, from where he must've observed that sacred place. Judging by disturbed grass, he might have spent a night.

[mastajabba]

The Radiant Scout held the bloodied piece of fabric in his hand and stuffed into his pocket. He had not taken the small owl statue being weary of perhaps it holding some significant religious meaning or the more likely a focus for scrying on the camp.

Gnolls are quickly eliminated as the source of the statue. It’s crude craftsmanship speaks more of human folk art than the things that gnolls tend to put together in their lairs (Lore Nature).

It was also unlikely the subject was a Rogue or Non Circle druid. As he would had easily casted healing Magic’s on himself or used some herbalist remedies after the skirmish. Also the acrobatics of the combat was something the Comyrian had never seen. I mean was it even human? There where no large beast like tracks to have marked this as the work of some were beast.

Whom ever it was a few things where clear;

Skilled with combination of blades

Knows his way around the Forrest well

Is curious to what is going on at the camp. I don’t suspect it’s the Bhaalist saboteur that’s attacking the Flaming Fist.

[DM All Father]

After a 'quiet' altercation in the the new and still building camp a number of changes become rather apparent.

1. Firstly that The Flaming Fist have pulled all forces back from the river, where they had been conducting a holding action to keep the gnolls away from the road and limit their movements in the forest.

2. The Fist are now using their soldiers to patrol the road in force and protect any trade caravans that travel in the area affected.

3. Security efforts are greatly enforced. No one gets in or out of the camp short of passing before a First Company NCO -And- a battlecaster. All caravans are granted a cohort of First Company, a scout, and more battlecasters. Lastly the roads are clearly being inspected by scouts and battlecasters, however their actions along the road remain hidden.

Duke Eltan paid a brief visit to the camp and after his departure a notice posted on one of the rising posts.

The threat within Cloakwood was and is a threat to the people of Baldur's Gate, Beregost, The Friendly Arm Inn, Doron Amar, And all other good folk along The Coast. Given the efforts of certain parties and individuals, The Flaming Fist will no longer be protecting anyone entering or exiting the wood. The Forest will be surrendered to Bhaal's efforts. My soldiers -will- put a end to this threat, however we shall do so in a aggressive fashion and simply halt all defensive actions within the forest.

Grand Duke, Lord Marshal of The Payroll, Lord General
Duke Eltan

And the proper seal of his personal ring is upon the posting.

[LivT]

At twilight, iolanna returned to the edges of the forest, moving quietly through and continuing her efforts to rescue those creatures trying to escape the Bhaalists who had invaded their home, and providing healing and aid to the poor few left to defend the forest. Where the Flaming Fist camp once stood, she began to sow the ground and prepare it for new growth, but the pain and regret in her song was evident.

“Such foolishness… such short-sightedness… to have driven away the only allies we had. Against Bhaal. Against Kazgaroth…”

Dejected, she cast the growth spell, the song returning to let the seedling fasten their roots into the earth, beginning to bury the signs of where the camp once stood.

They were alone in this fight now. She could only pray someone lived long enough to restore the Cloakwood once the devastation was done.

[mastajabba]

Nigel ran fired arrow after arrow before disappearing into the thick foliage. Firing the last of his Arcane Charge fireball arrows into the narrow log that served as crossing of the river. Hoping to dislodge it. The Cloakwood was in Chaos, bands of Bhaalist Gnolls crossed the river emboldened by the pull back of the Fist Company of the Flaming Fist. The barrier of steel, magic that had held the Gnolls at bay. But since the camp moved back. The Gnolls ravaged the Cloakwood with an insatiable hunger and drive to consume. They ripped limbs from trees and they took down game for just for the bloodshed. Half eaten and mostly mutilated carcasses where strewn all over the Cloakwood. The scent of blood and entrails was almost overwhelming. Their howls and growls filled the Cloakwood. Animals tried to flee in panic. Even some of the giants spider and even some Shadow Druids fell to the tsunami like wave of Bloody Maws and weapons and claws. All because of someone had been attacking the Fist at their Basecamp.

The Radiant Scout, paused to pray to Millieki for her aid in camouflaging him from the frenzied pack of Red Skull Gnolls. Hoping that the Chosen of Bhaal was deep in that hole and away from where the Lone Ranger made his hectic patrol out of the Cloakwood after the First Company and some of the Phoenix Company adventurers had gone back to the Fist Camp. He then finally made it out and spoke with some of the Flaming Fists Fist Company Scouts in regards to what he had seen.

[Penwize]

Ytarya was shocked. Astounded. It had been decades since she'd taken action like she had been but even in the old days nothing had ever gone this well. Or strangely. The wild elf watched the Fist leave and just couldn't seem to get her eyebrows to descend. She'd just turned away the Flaming Fist, the Radiant Heart, the Green Enclave, and independent adventurers from two fortified positions. With pranks. It was working too well in fact and the elf reminded herself to strangle her swelling ego. It was a lesson to be learned. Whatever odd counterbalance the Fist served in opposition to the gnolls was significant. The more bestial invaders were feeling confident.

The elf's mind drifted back to the Fist. The Anachaine's success probably wasn't single-handed. There were doubtless other factors to this... almost passive-aggressive maneuver. Maybe politics within the city or the Green Enclave tired of the deforestation and all the dead druids and had some duke's ear. Regardless, the elf couldn't help but feel accomplished. If about a week of harassment was all it took to accomplish all of this then she could only imagine how easy it would be to extricate the gnolls.

Especially since everyone was now on the same side.

If it happened before whatever reprisal the Flaming Fist had in mind, all the better. It would take some precision and cooperation but the elf felt rather confident that it could be arranged. She watched the retreat from afar and began to practice her diplomatic approach.

[DM All Father]

With the withdraw from the river the gnolls start to slowly take ground, their small parties moving forward as quiet hunters. Often they slay creatures, but there is equal evidence of a peaceful passing by the beasts . As the days passed the “rot” previous contained clearly reached the river, although it’s effects didn’t seem to go beyond the bank.

The first night after the withdraw a sortie was dispatched deep into the wood. It returned back for the road and it’s camp battered, and all bolts spent but without loss.

[JustAnotherGuy]

The Green Haired Archdruid had met with Duke Eltan in the camp of the Fist. Duke Eltan had wanted answers, and Emmanuel had them. He stepped into the shadows of his home, the Cloakwood. Soon after, he was seen, no longer hiding from anyone, though not obvious. Anyone nearby would have easily seen his frustration, and would have heard his cry to the branches.

"How could the Anachaine have been so stupid!?"

He punches the ground in a display of frustration not usually seen from the stoic druid.

"I had thought we were on the same side... but to purposefully try to harm nature like this?!"

He would soon calm down, his ordinary demeanor returning. Soon after, he would be seen writing on some parchment, and then stepping into a tree to vanish.

[mastajabba]

Once the Radiant Scout had restocked his quivers. He then loaded up a heavy patrol backpack with supplies. Those who would take note would see that the Radiant Scout was packing extra supplies. And that the Radiant Scout Squad Captain Boots was not to be found at the encampment.

He exited the camp as the Archdruid stepped out and shouted out in frustration. He Comyrian watched as he stepped into a tree… oi that spell was always so neat to watch. But more importantly now he had a direction of who probably was behind the saboteur work.

So the Anacaine was at worst conspiring with Bhaalist Gnolls, at best idiots that would rather have murderous gnolls than to see a United effort to get rid of them because of ever temporary foot print a military encampment might have. Now that the Ranger had location and names of accomplices or enablers he headed into the deep Cloakwood. For a covert encounter. The Scout casted spells to aid his sneaking as we as going further to cast invisibility to double up on what ever eyes might be watching.

[Heretic]

A contingent of adventurers from Phoenix Company, and other factions, would arrive in the Cloakwood after hearing rumors of a Fist Operation being undertaken. The contingent would eventually locate the Fist patrol positioned near an opening in rockface. Lady Netanya of Phoenix Company would offer the Fist Corporal her company’s assistance in their mission should they require it. Before she could gathered any additional information from the Corporal the company of adventurers and Fist found themselves besieged by Bhaalist gnolls emerging from the aforementioned opening in the rock as well as other vectors. After the group managed to weather the siege the Fist Corporal would ask a keen eyed dwarf from the Silvereye clan, also present, to peer into the cave. Whatever the dwarf was able to sight compelled the Corporal to order an immediate and hasty retreat from the Cloakwood and back to the Trade Way. After the companies completed their retreat the dwarf proceeded to take the time explain the unfathomable evil that resided in that cave.

[Shamble]

Violence in the Forest.

A pair of elven warriors recognized the notorious orcish hunter lurking through the depth of the Cloakwood. The midnight encounter was destined to end in bloodshed.

After a dirty skirmish, two tied slender bodies were dragged through the woods on a crude rope. Their trace was lost in the forest river...

[Cinta]

So the venue of the skirmish remained: while no easily spotted tracks could be found about how both party arrived, in grave contrary stood how they left. Blood was heavily pouring from the wounds of the elves, arrow end broken down and sticked into the mud under the weight of the dragged bodies. Reaching the riverbank, the course of the crude march never faltered, riverside undergrowth followed as the elven bodies were submerged in the water - but no trace of them were to be found on the other side.

[Penwize]

Ytarya marveled at the Fist's work, impressed. Both on the field and in the mind. The scout watched that Fist sortie return triumphant - to expend all of your ammunition in a close fight with gnolls and bring everyone home safe was grand indeed. It truly spoke of their capabilities. The scout also saw how the communities of nature despised her.

She'd become incredibly strong. A goddess of mischief. A force of nature wielding magic and cunning to strike at the very heart of the force meant to save the Cloakwood. And she had used that status to shatter the will of the Flaming Fist with mere nuisance. Despite aggressive and effective countermeasures the Fist was humbled before her powerful onslaught. So much so that they had no choice but to regretfully retreat from the forest. Even leaving a note resigning it and its inhabitants to fate. Not their fault of course - their will was indominable but they couldn't possibly stand in the face of such a terrifying villain. The wild elf rolled her eyes.

Yet she'd remained utterly weak. A misguided idiot. A fly in the ointment. An individual mortal whose efforts had met aggressive and effective countermeasures. Who certainly hadn't stopped the Fist from razing acres of forest nor murdering all of those druids. A silly elf who couldn't even bring herself to fight the Flaming Fist directly. Her mischief was many things, but it wasn't murder or combat. And, looking at the sortie's return, it hadn't actually inconvenienced their efforts in the least. If, stripped of their will and fortifications, the Flaming Fist still sent soldiers on nigh-flawless jaunts into the forest they'd supposedly abandoned because of her, well her efforts hadn't actually had any impact had they?

It was a strange sensation, being cast as too strong and too weak at the same time. It was cunning! It demanded gratitude and sympathy from followers and let the Fist prop her up as an immediate and juicy target. When they continued their efforts she would inevitably be treated with scorn, dismissed as a harmless naysayer in the face of the victorious Fist that had mustered so much bravery and strength to oppose her. If only she had sided with the Fist. Don't be like her. Timed right and with a little help from fate, they would be present at the inevitable defeat of the gnolls to wreath themselves in glory and divide nature's defenders more.

Ytarya marveled at the Fist's work, impressed. She'd done many terrible things but this sort of evil was one she'd never managed to be proficient at. And she wondered how she would respond to it.