Intro Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/02(Mon)15:55 No. 1096836 ID: f846b3
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I desire a lick of the salt blocks deep in the Woods of Saltlick. Supplies have been low, and thus the King’s guards patrol shoulder-to-shoulder around the perimeter of the forest.

In ye olde days the town was rich with salt. But during our excavations, we interrupted the sleep of a great salty hag who lived there. After her eviction, she cursed us and now our supply has run nearly dry.

Intro Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/02(Mon)15:56 No. 1096837 ID: f846b3
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Legend has it among the riffraff that there’s the last giant salt block in the midst of the forest. But a heavy fog shields it, and unknown creatures have spawned during the wee hours of the night. Anyone who manages to pass the guards is never seen again.

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/02(Mon)15:56 No. 1096838 ID: f846b3
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And thus we roundabout to my quest, young chaps. I desire a lick. I will succeed for my name IS . . .!!!
>Insert Name [_ _ _ _ _ _]
>Do I adorn a crown of antlers or nay?

Boris Bigsly
You have some mighty fine antlers

You are The Potlicker
A low-wage, bland-faced peasant with a disturbing talent at using serrated spatulas to mutilate invading raiders.

Your name is Buckup, and antlers are a social construct.

Johan Deerhart
A modest but striking set of six pointers

Sir Onionbreath. You have a obsession with those smelly yet tasty veggies.

Your name is Briella. You have been crowned with antlers by birth, some might say in spite of your feminine nature.

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/03(Tue)17:31 No. 1096882 ID: 95376c
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And thus I go forth as Briella Deerhart despite the crown which I look fabulous wearing; my feminine features make me lithe and lissome.

I am a far wanderer. I can handle myself in a pinch with my trusty bastard sword should the need arise. I have some rope and a hook, as well as berries to feast on.

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/03(Tue)17:31 No. 1096883 ID: 95376c
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I’m at the border of the Woods of Saltlick where the king’s sentries patrol night and day, seemingly unending. I wait inside a shrubbery for an opportunity. After some reconnaissance I conclude that they watch in pairs, and a distance of forty hooves between each pairing all along the border. But this particular duo has one exiting at the end of their shift; the other is now alone. I have little time to act now before their replacement arrives.

>How should I proceedeth?

Brandish your bastard sword. Try to reflect the sunlight off of it's polished metal into the guard's eyes. This should cause them to freeze long enough for you to prance by

Chuck one of the berries in a far bush, then while they are distracted swing past on your trusty grappling hook!

Fashion a grappling hook out of the hook and rope, then hook the guard's antlers and bring him in for a thrashing.

There is only one choice.

We must venture forth into the salty wastes far yonder where the salty hag was exiled and convince her to end the salty curse.

For this, we must bring the ultimate offering.
Sugary candy and a glass of water. Being salty all the time gets to ya, man.

Pretend you are the replacement. They will never suspect until it is too late!

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/04(Wed)17:09 No. 1096967 ID: b56153
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Ah, ingenious! I can angle my bastard sword to reflect the sunlight into that guard’s eyes. He’ll freeze up, as we tend to do, and I can prance by while he’s stunned! Brilliant idea, me.

I rustle the shrubs within my immediate vicinity to draw the sentry’s attention. And with a snicker-snack I flash my sword and blind him. His face distorts in confusion and terror. During his intermission I prance past him without obstacle.

Huddled in the shade, I look back. The sentry shakes his head and regains his composure. There’s no alarm as he shrugs off the confusion and resumes his position. His new partner joins him.

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/04(Wed)17:10 No. 1096968 ID: b56153
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I almost cannot believe it; I’m within the boundaries of the wood! Birch and syrupy maple trees stretch extraordinarily tall and shade all verdant foliage below with their beautiful canopies. I’m almost compelled to frolic and enjoy this forest to myself with an endless platter of savory yellow birch leaves. But nay, there’s some salt to lick.

I galumph ahead for minutes soaking in the splendor of the forest. It’s merely a matter of walking straight ahead will I eventually find the last salt block in the kingdom.

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/04(Wed)17:10 No. 1096969 ID: b56153
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Hark! Hold on a second. I spy strange structures within the tree tops! They look unlike old archery posts when the mines were still open. Instead of a crossbow guard I spot mysterious cloaked figures; their eyes glow from the shadows that hide their faces. Their costumes blend them as if they were one with the trees! I stepped upon a fragile twig with a light snap, and immediately an arrow is shot dangerously close to my hoof.

They all look in my direction, waiting for something. But they shrug off their cloaks and wear a most unnatural color! I can barely see the outlines of their bodies!

>What do I do?

curse it. looks we've been outnumbered, outarmed, and outmaneuvered by our mysterious and already hostile folk. best we not do anything funny lest we become a dish of skewered venison.

lay down your sword and hook, calmly state your intentions, and pray to whoever you worship for the best...

Targeting sounds, eh? Toss a few rocks to sow confusion and perhaps deplete their quivers.

stand still for a moment and see if they're still aware of you. perhaps they hunt by movement?

"SALT AND SLAYING!!!
Roll for intimidation.

Tell the Jawas these are not the droids they're looking for.

I think we need more info about the situation. Laying down your weapons seems a bit extreme for a conversation starter. A simple “Who goes there?” will suffice just fine. No sudden movements, but I’d suggest having a hand on the hilt of your bastard sword, just in case.

If they are within throwing distance, throw rocks at them to make a sound at their location and see if they might friendly fire

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/07(Sat)20:53 No. 1097148 ID: 44b0f7
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>Targeting sounds, eh? Toss a few rocks to sow confusion and perhaps deplete their quivers.
I freeze up and make no noise. They stare in my direction, but make no more attempts to attack. I wave my arms and still no response. I toss a pebble at the nearest tree, and as soon as it hits, an arrow wedges into thick bark! Aha! They rely on sound to find their prey! A deft adventurer would be able to dodge these arrows, or use cat-like feet to trek across without making a noise, or even attack these strange hunters with extreme precision high in the trees.

But I have a simpler solution!

I retreat only briefly, for I collect as many rocks as I can carry. Returning to the obstacle I throw these pebbles in random directions. The hunters fire upon where there is noise and with enough time and patience they will run out of arrows!

The last arrow lodges into a stump, and I gloatingly strut through the aisle of trees. The hunters grumble to themselves up above.

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/07(Sat)20:54 No. 1097149 ID: 44b0f7
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My congratulatory stride would be cut short, as I should’ve expected my next obstacle: a thick mist that forever plagues the inner dwellings of the forest. I can hardly see five hooves ahead.

But lo! Is that a cackling my ears detect? Within the thick and soupy fog are the contours of a strange being. No threat was declared upon my presence.

I demand whose presence stands before me with a hand upon my bastard hilt.

“Becomest proficient!” she crows.

There’s only one voice who speaks so salty. It must be that hag! But what is the meaning of her heckling?

>This be an omen or a warning? How must I react?

Briella has many proficiencies, be more specific hag.

I think she just told us to "get good". Clearly she believes were are suffering from a skill issue. Verily, we must show her we lack in no skills and should show off some fancy sword play

No! Don’t fall into her trap! If we attempt to show any level of skill, she will say it is not good enough! Any feat we perform will be “rookie numbers” to her. We must boldly inform this hag that we have nothing to prove to her!

She heckles at your skills in an attempt for you to show off. Guard dropped, she gets ya with her magic. Maybe even steal your powers.

She's after your high score!

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/12(Thu)17:31 No. 1097328 ID: 28fa8e
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> She heckles at your skills in an attempt for you to show off
>If we attempt to show any level of skill, she will say it is not good enough!
I was this close to unsheathing my bastard. But thine words spark true. I’d only look like a fopdoodle on All-Fools-Day if I did all I can to impress this unimpressionable hag. This be a game of magic and swords no more! Now it’s a game of hecklings.

I say into the mist, “Nay! Thou!”

She cackles and murmurs at my riposte.

“I had a previous congress with your bedswerving maiden!”

I retort: Thine ought to retire from thoust mortal coil, foul curmudgeon! A cur is you!

“I woot ye be, yet what have ye sayeth about mine-self?”

I bleat: Such behavior of a wretch will answer to mine patriarch of the House of Deerhart, for he is subordinate to the King and will thusly shun and have thou scorned.

She cracks a smile at the corner of her mouth. “Thine challenge has surpassed its end. A jolly joust, knave.”

She’s not going to admit defeat. The salty hag guffaws some more and disappears in the thick of fog. I’m compelled to give chase!

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/12(Thu)17:32 No. 1097329 ID: 28fa8e
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I pursue her cackling; it echoes in the mist. I would call myself a fool for running in blind--but there would be no other option to move forward with my quest. Her laughter reels farther away, and then silence.

I mosey and meander without a reference point; it feels like minutes have gone by before I give pause. Not one noise is uttered. No birds. No wind. Stillness hangs in the air.

For it was then that I spy the silhouette of a deer! It’s just standing there. Menacingly! Maybe it’s the hag! She does not face me. This is my chance to capture her and demand the curse be broken! I carefully unsheathe my sword this round and shall strike before she utters an incantation.

So I stride, and before I swing my blade down I realize it’s not my intended target. It’s a lost damsel! Such pretty fur that gloss in the light. The fairest flower in a field of poppies. I tip my hat and bow to the gentle creature, and ask if she is lost or knows the way through--but I receive no answer and a blank stare. There seems to be a scar around her neck and ears. Her eyes! Vantablack like the void between stars! She is motionless, and the look upon her face is uncanny.

I realize this fair damsel has been petrified! As the fog clears in my vicinity I see more unlucky brethren frozen in time! What madness is this? Some of them have been punctured by arrows, but they don’t bleed!

>What trickery of the salty hag is this? How do I escape from here before a similar fate is bestowed upon me?

If the curse stops you from moving, then clearly the only solution is to keep moving. Prance and pronk whiles till looking for the hag to undo this curse on these poor people.

Time mage!
You need to leave. Excessive force should break the stasis spells - and explode the victims within. You need an archmage to unravel this mass...ive effect.

A trick! The hag seeks to fool you with this simulacrum, but see how she hath failed to hide the seams. Rebuke this assail on thine tender heart by rending this false doxy to kindling.

Are you sure she's just not interested and giving you the silent treatment?

I'm going to second the petrification pronking protection.

If some are punctured by arrows, be careful. Those archers may be lurking around yet.

Prancing Cervid Studio 2024/09/14(Sat)21:54 No. 1097420 ID: 3904e0
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>I'm going to second the petrification pronking protection.
>If the curse stops you from moving, then clearly the only solution is to keep moving.
I prance and prong out of fear that staying in one place for too long will petrify me. You will not striketh me, o’ salty hag!

(I’ll come back for you, my beloved. Just after the sweet licks of salt on my buds)

I hop and skip for minutes and my legs feel all the more weary. Her cackling is still distant; I wonder if she even knows I’m here. No matter, I head in a direction with my best gut. If I see enemies or more unlucky petrified sods, then I must be going the right way!

And indeed I was! For I come upon a sight even stranger than the last! At first, an ordinary river. But at second glance, it’s also under the effects of petrification! It curves motionless into the fog. I don’t recall any crick or river through the woods as a wee lad, but it could be a moat around the mines! I search for a raft or vehicle to safely cross this accursed river—but no dice.

>How ever does one traverse this strange phenomenon?

If it's petrified as well, then it should be solid enough to cross on, right? Still, be cautious and put not but a single hoof on this river

Wait a few minutes. Beware of sudden onrushing lights. If you see even the merest pair of them coming immediately move at full speed towards whichever bank is closest. Do not delay. Fae vessels ply these petrified rivers at incredible speed and in this mist will plough through you like a tumbling boulder.

Give it a dainty stamp to test its surface

Is there anything *not* under the effects of petrification? Maybe it's you who are under the effects of... everythingelse... petrification...itis.