West Marches at the Board N Brew

Echo, Aoris and Tulgey were joined by two other adventurers of the Marches, Milo and Tordek. They too had encountered the Witchcross raiders and heard the name “Murdock”, so with common purpose, they set out into the Witchwood, with Lt. Greystone’s blessing, and a rearguard of soldiers following a half day behind. Examining the raiders’ path for clues, they found a small totem object, torn and snagged on a branch, that Milo and Echo were able to identify as belonging to a particular tribe of orcs, located to the north Witchwood. The careless loss of a presumably sacred item, the chaotic state of the egress point, and the fort’s witness reports, led the party to consider the raids hasty, and desperate, as though whipped into recklessness by some authoritative force. Led by their ranger, they ventured into the forest. A day or two north, they were set upon suddenly by a pair of large and vicious beasts. Barbed tentacles curled from the horse-sized feline forms, and one of the creatur...

"They come in, take what they can, and get out, fast," Sildar confirms. "Nobody's come to irreparable harm, yet. Two of the sentry were cut up pretty badly in one raid, but nothing Maelgrove couldn't tend." In spite of its tactical value as a control point for defending the greater Vale to the south and east, the restoration of Witchcross after the Great Razing languished for one reason or another over the past five years. Conventional wisdom says both "one reason" and "another" hold seats on the Tempered Vale town council. Politics aside, Witchcross isn't making any better progress with goblinoid raids wearing away at its supplies. "These days, it's more important than ever that we hold that point firmly," Sildar declares, indicating Witchross on the map spread out on the table. "We have scouts confirming sightings of second-grade threats here, and here." He points north of the Darkinwood and at the eas...

Perry goes out into the woods, the Witchwood, with Doomlorde. He skulks along the eastern edge, scouting the pass between there and the Darkin Woods. It doesn't take long before he is moving like an animal, he is as a bear. He sheds his boots, his tunic, thoughtlessly. He feels the loam of the forest floor between his toes. He is home and the hearth fire is the fire that burns within him. He speaks with the animals, not only to seek the enemy, but to know them and the ways of the Witchwood. Soon, he moves and sings the song of the forest with the birds, the foxes, the leaves on the trees and the very spiders between the branches. He is in tune with each tree. He feels them. Each touch is a greeting, an acknowledgement of their kinship. He forgets that he is a man, and is he anymore? He is propelled as much by his hands across mighty roots as his feet across jagged stones. Where is his quarry? He seeks their position, breathes the air to catch their scent, the scent of un...