Briefing: On the Felwood

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Log Info

  • Title: Briefing: On the Felwood
  • GM: Whirlpool
  • Place: Adventurers' Guild
  • Summary: Osvald, a representative of the Adventurers' Guild, holds a briefing regarding the Felwood camp, the history of the Felwood, the objective of the camp's existence, and how adventurers can help.

Once again, the briefing room in the Guild of Adventurers seems to be filling in as mercenaries, adventurers, and city officials take their places in the crowd. It's a busy time, and the matter with the Felwood is going to be the source of a considerable number of contracts.

Cor'lana Lúpecyll-Atlon steps into the briefing room, dressed in her adventurer's garments: a cloak on her shoulders, a circlet on her brow, and sensible but fitting knee-length robes on her form. Her high-calved boots are more fit for the outdoors and the rough-and-tumble, but here, they're practically expected. She gives the white raven on her shoulders, Pothy, a little scritch on his shaggy throat feathers. "Be good," she murmurs quietly to him, before she makes her way into the crowd.

"Snacks?" Pothy politely inquires, and he's searching the crowd with those blue eyes of his--but he doesn't immediately find anything. The raven will simply have to wait, and that might be the hardest part of all of this.

Iskandar is at the back this time, sitting on a stool he must have carried in from another room. One with a bar, perhaps, since he's holding a goblet in one hand. He nods at a few faces as he scans the room. "The Felwood!" he calls out to no one in particular. "At last! I've never been," he adds after a few moments to explain himself.

An incredibly shiny and armored sith-makari is present, him taking up two seats at this briefing to support his weight. He's got his halberd in his lap, tail swaying behind him as Skielstregar is ready for this meeting!

Munch shows up naked. Which is normal for a golem. He comes with snacks, which is not. The 'snacks' are pieces of concrete, which is just weird. But, the TerrorMaw's face splits open, rows of gleaming adamantine fangs accepting each tidbit, grinding them to powder as he chews. Pothy is politely offered a piece. "I've toured the Fel. Weird place. Never occurred to me to question why."

A meeting; about the forest? Tlanexhuani is unsure what to think of such a thing, but that is all the most reason to attend. If a forest is not just a forest, then word-sharing of this would provide the answers. The bluescale is crouched amongst the chairs in Skielstregar's vicinity.

Lucius stands to one side of the room, grinning. He runs a hand through his hair, blinking rapidly. As the room continues filling up, he shifts from one foot to the other, waiting for the briefing to start. "Guess we're about to find out," he offers cheerfully.

Orvald, that poor guild bureaucrat that has been here every time, is arriving. He looks tired and harried. These things do take some work for him to prepare, after all.

He runs his hand through his messy hair and takes a spot up front behind the podium.

"Good evening, everyone!"

Iskandar takes one last sip of his drink before setting his goblet down on a nearby table and preparing for the discussions to begin.

Pothy's blue eyes observe the concrete snack that Munch offers... And he sort of nudges it politely back into Munch's outstretched limb. "No thank you," he says in a mimic of Cor'lana's voice.

"Good evening," Cor'lana replies in what she hopes will be a chorus of greetings to Orvald. Either way, she's letting the poor man speak. He looks like he needs a moment.

Skielstregar gives a happy, sparkly wave. "Peasssse!" He was looking forward to this, as he could have some information he could maybe help with! Awh, the softskin looks really tired. Maybe... hrm. Coffee? They need coffee. He chuffs.

Munch perks attentively as Orvald arrives, absently brushing chalk dust from his chest.

Lucius' eyes follow Orvald as he makes his way behind the podium. "Good evening, sir." The adventurer adds a small wave to his greeting, as he turns his attention fully to what the guild official is about to say.

"Today, we're going to be talking about the Felwood."

Orvald lets out a breath and then continues, "Running adjacent to the Mythwood forest, the Felwood is a section of the greater forest that has been darkened by a curse for as far back as our local history goes. It is believed that it is a legacy of the Demon Wars, the conflict that broke much of the known world and stretched on for an untold length of time before it was ended in a single, final battle between the last emperor of the multi-Millennial Aiglosian kingdom and the infamous 'Duke of Skald' that started it. Skald, today, is a blasted and demon-blighted land, lending some credence to the stories. The Felwood, too, is blighted by infernal energies -- a cursed wood rife with monsters and demons."

Munch says, “Lotta undead and dumb bandit's too. Smart bandits go where the wildlife isn't likely to eat you.”

Cor'lana glances to the side at Munch with his comment, but she resumes her attention on Orvald. "I didn't know about the Duke of Skald part," she murmurs. Of course, there's a worried expression on her face as Orvald mentions the curse, but she still doesn't jump in to interrupt the man's lecture.

Iskandar listens with an expression of relish. Cursed wood. Monsters and Demons. Even the talk of undead and bandits only seems to increase his interest.

Skielstregar listens as best he can, him frowning some at the mention of infested lands. He's quiet. Glance to Cor'lana, and he rumble whispers, "Ssshaman Ravensss... what iss a Duke?"

Lucius also listens quietly, his expression becoming more serious as Orvald introduces the curse of the Felwood. He rests his right hand against the side of his face, drumming one finger against the cheek.

"I wish I could say we knew more about the Demon Wars, but history gets ... fuzzy around then. Too much societal collapse and chaos, I suppose. Alexandria itself is one of the states that emerged from it over time."

Orvald offers a tired smile, then nods to Cor'lana before continuing.

"As you'd know from our last briefings and disseminations, magic has long sustained the curse in a cycle of torment. With the interruptions to the flow of mana in the area, the curse has finally weakened, and we've seen, able to be cleansed locally. Our goal here is to build a camp on the edge of the Felwood, secure it, and begin forays into the Felwood in an effort to break it down further, and end the threat. Doing so, even if we ultimately just succeed in reducing it, will bring greater freedom and security to our Mythwood compatriots. This goal is laudable. The camp is marginally established at this point and needs additional security and fortifications. We will be further discussing tonight the sort of threats one can find and meet on the edge of the Fel woods."

Cor'lana leans over to Skielstregar. "A Duke is a person who has a high position in a noble court. He has a lot of land, and he has other people beneath him. Typically, the only title higher than a duke--or the female form, the duchess--is the king, queen, or monarch. That means the Duke of Skald was an important man... And is still, I suppose, in the sense of infamy." Her whisper is soft to Skielstregar, and once it's done, she turns her attention back to Orvald.

Which means she's bright-eyed as she realizes something about the Felwood camp. She raises her hand to be called on, not daring to shout over Orvald. A question burns on her lips.

Munch comments without regard to trampled toes. It's the barbarian way. "Find less giant spiders than you used to. Or found by. They were told I was tasty."

Skielstregar nods along. "Sssa, thisss one remembersss, the curse weakening," he rumbles. "Thiss one... doesss not suggest tessting it."

He ducks down to listen to Cor'lana. Him nodding along. Mhmm. Yep. Yep. "Thisss one underssstandsss."

He doesn't.

Seeing as she had a question, he raises a hand too, but ends up pointing to Cor'lana. He's taller, so he's helping!

Lucius nods sharply at the mention of a camp at the edge of the Felwood. "Just the other night, while escorting supplies to the outpost, we were attacked by a convocation of eagles." He falls silent when he glances in Cor'lana and Skielstregar's direction and notices their raised hands.

"I'm sorry. A convocation of what now?" asks Orvald of Lucius, blinking his eyes slowly.

"A camp?" Iskandar muses. "That sounds grand. A base of operations. Closer to the front, to the action. And from there, no doubt, forays into the cursed woods. Grand!" he repeats.

"Er, eagles." Lucius flushes. "Do you call them a spread of eagles? A tower of eagles? A group of eagles." He points toward Skiel and Cor'lana. "Excuse me, I think they might have questions," he mumbles in a rather flustered tone.

Cor'lana squints at the mention of eagles. "Eagles--no, no, couldn't possibly be related," she mutters, and then finally, she speaks up, since Orvald's already distracted.

"I was there with Skielstregar and others with Farland, a representative of the Resurrectionists," Cor'lana speaks up, "on a mission to uncover why the leylines were acting strangely. In doing so... I broke the curse on a part of the Felwood. A tiny part of it, mind you, but it's possible. I don't recommend doing so, however, because the horde we had to fight off as we were fleeing was quite sizable."

Pothy looks confused, somehow, in those blue eyes of his that are far too expressive. "You were drunk for that," Cor'lana explains to Pothy in a low voice, "on account of eating fermented berries you found in the Felwood."

"Oh," Pothy says in Cor'lana's voice.

Munch blinks at Cor'lana. "Horde of what? Eagles?"

Skiel looks to Cor'lana, him nodding along. "Yess. It wasss... it felt asss if the whole foressst was attacking," he mentions to Munch.

But what was this about a flock of eagles? He didn't how this was related. The makari scratches his cheek with the tip of his eerie looking halberd.

"... well ... that's weird," says Orvald, clearing his throat.

He nods to Cor'lana, though, agreeing. "Yes, that was a prior event that helped us understand this was something we could do .. and once we knew that, we had to."

"It was a horde of shadowy figures," Cor'lana says to Munch. "Nothing along the lines of eagles."

Finally, she turns to the group in the room. "I just ask that all adventurers be careful," Cor'lana says, a look of genuine concern on her face. "It is dangerous there. Be careful with magic if you're going into the woods."

And with that, she offers Orvald a curtsy, ceding the floor to him again. "My apologies, please, resume."

"No, that's quite all right, Cor'lana. This is why we're here, to share these sorts of stories, when they ... involve... eagles, even,."

He's still struggling to get that one figured out, honestly.

Orvald clears his throat and then continues, "Step one is to establish the camp. Step two is to identify land marks of interest in the Felwood to clear *towards*. Step three will be the operation to clear towards them. Maps of the Felwood have been unreliable, but we expect that to change as we grow towards things."

Munch says, “Bet gets worse before gets better, when the Fel gets pissed off and is still strong.”

Skielstregar counts on his fingers, mumble rumbling as he repeats the plan to himself quietly in his native tongue. The crack on his halberd shifts a tinge to look like a jagged smile as he does so.

He comments, "The camp will be important, lasss thiss one wasss there, it wasss sssmasshed and damaged. We will need reinforce."

Lucius nods along as Orvald explains the plan. He looks toward the other adventurers as well, paying close attention to each of their remarks. As he processes all the new information, his brow creases in thought. It seems he has little to add to what has already been said.

Cor'lana nods with the information that Orvald states. "I would hazard a guess that we'll need to continuously reinforce the camp," she says. "The things that dwell in the Felwood will likely be a constant threat to the camp, not to mention the lack of resources in the area that can be used. Everything has to be brought in."

"Yes, that's going to be a necessity. Along with securing supply routes. Bandits, monsters, and things that would prefer we leave well enough alone will assuredly try to intercept and interrupt them."

Orvald rubs his head.

"Does anyone have any questions?"

Skielstregar scratches his head with a talon. "Mm... thisss one doessn't think s-"

There's a groaning of metal, and the axehead halberd the makari has been holding splits open down the middle. It asks in a growling, rumbling voice, "Are there any diplomatic complications we need to worry about when conducting this felling of the Felwood business?"

Skiel blinks at his weapon, and whispers not so quietly to it. "Oh that'sss a good quessssstion." He pats the polearm.

Iskandar turns his eyes and then his head to look at the weapon. He stares for a few moments. And then a look of acceptance crosses his face. Iskandar turns back towards Orvald. "We can be very diplomatic," he assures.

Cor'lana nods. "I would rather not add any complications for my father-in-law, a diplomat residing in Ylvaliel in the Mythwood, to deal with," she adds rather flatly. "The Mythwood alliance with Alexandria should be a priority. I suppose we aren't expecting any aid on their behalf since this is primarily an Alexandrian venture?"

"The Mythwood and Alexandria are in this together. We are, as you might've heard, forming a political union in a greater Alexandros, given time and development. That the Mythwood is joining us is part of the reason this is able to be performed."

Orvald seems pleased about this.

"I see. My appreciation." The halberd jagged 'mouth' closes to a nothing more than a crack along the metal.

Skielstregar keeps hold of the pole, tail swaying behind him slowly. "Ssa. Alexandria aid Mictlan often. Together with Mythwood, thiss can be done!" He pumps a fist, fired up.

Orvald blinks.

"Wait, that wasn't the -- "

He puts a hand over his face. "I'm never going to get used to some things, clearly."