OOC:
Well… As you don't have a ranged weapon and a boar cannot be hunted using snares, you fail the second hunting roll. But (luckily?) with a boar, failure means you enter combat and can engage with your knife.
moved silently through the dense forest, his senses attuned to every sound and movement around him. The sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows through the trees. He had been tracking a trail of disturbed underbrush and fresh prints, hoping to find enough game to feed the three of them. His heart raced with anticipation, his hunter's instincts kicking in.
Suddenly, a low grunt and the sound of rustling leaves alerted him to a presence nearby. Faramos crouched down, moving cautiously towards the sound. Peering through the foliage, he spotted a large boar rooting around in the forest floor, searching for food. The boar was massive, its tusks gleaming in the dappled sunlight.
Faramos knew this was a rare opportunity. A boar would provide enough meat to last them a couple of days, but it was also dangerous prey. He gripped his knife tightly, his knuckles whitening. Slowly, he crept closer, careful not to make a sound. He was within striking distance when the wind shifted, carrying his scent to the boar.
The boar's head shot up, its small, beady eyes locking onto Faramos. With a snort of alarm, it charged, its powerful legs churning up the forest floor. Faramos leaped to the side, narrowly avoiding the boar's tusks. He rolled to his feet and faced the animal, his knife ready.
OOC:
Your combat turn. The boar is at
Arm's length. What do you do?
wandered a short distance from Brenda, gathering twigs and fallen branches for kindling. Suddenly, her foot caught on something, and she stumbled, barely catching herself before falling.
Looking down, she saw the lifeless body of
an unknown bird, its feathers ruffled and stained with blood. Nindia's breath caught in her throat as she knelt to examine the poor creature. A thick iron arrow with bright red fletching had pierced its chest, the wound fatal and brutal.
She gently picked up the bird, careful not to dislodge the arrow, and hurried back to camp.
"An iron arrow," Brenda said as Nindia came back, her voice low and grim.
"With red fletching. That's no ordinary hunter's arrow. It's likely from the Rust Brothers."
Brenda gently took the bird from Nindia's hands, examining it closely.
"There's something else," she said, pointing to one of the bird's talons. Attached to it was a tiny metal capsule, barely noticeable against the bird's feathers.
OOC:
The capsule is locked, but can be opened with a successful
Sleight of Hand roll if you want. What do you do?
