The damp air of the Ironwood clings to RagNook’s skin. Rain drips from the canopy, masking the scent of pine with the iron tang of wet earth. A tattered parchment is pinned to a blighted birch tree with a rusted dagger.
RagNook Butcher of the East reaches out, his calloused thumb brushing the edges of the bounty notice.
Eldred stands ten paces back, his knuckles white as he grips a spear. His eyes are hollow, darting toward the dense undergrowth.
Eldred
Please, stranger. The beast took my kin before the sun had even crested the ridge. Do you truly mean to hunt it, or are you just another traveler looking for a quick meal?
RagNook Butcher of the East
The boy’s fear tastes like copper. He doesn't understand that the beast isn't just a threat. It is a source of protein and a step closer to the scales of my nemesis. But the woods are moving.
A low, guttural chittering echoes from the canopy above, causing the branches to shudder violently. A shadow descends, moving too fast for the human eye to track.
+ Scene Quest Added
Hunt the beast of Ironwood
“Prepare to defend, and look for signs of the beast”
SUCCESS (Great Perception, rolled -1)
RagNook Butcher of the East
The rhythmic snap of chitin against wood. It is not hunting for blood, but for marrow. My senses sharpen, tracing the vibrations through the soles of my boots.
RagNook Butcher of the East drops his heavy pack and draws the cleaver. Its steel sings a dull, hungry note as it clears the sheath.
RagNook plants his feet, ignoring the rain as he pivots to track the blur in the mist. Above him, a chitinous limb, tipped with a jagged, obsidian-like barb, erupts from the foliage, sweeping toward his shoulder.
RagNook Butcher of the East
Too much pride in its speed. It thinks I am just another panicked villager.
RagNook Butcher of the East
I see you, you oversized pest. Let us see if your meat is as tough as your shell.
Eldred watches, frozen, his eyes wide as he realizes the creature has descended directly above the butcher.
The monster hangs suspended for a heartbeat, its mandibles dripping a viscous, translucent ichor that sizzles as it hits the forest floor.
“Use the loot to play a Hypnotizing Tune”
SUCCESS (Good Reasoning, rolled +2)
RagNook Butcher of the East abruptly jams his thumb against the Lute strings, pulling a discordant, vibrating hum from the wood that mimics the rattling of a predator's rattle.
RagNook Butcher of the East
The sound resonates through the damp air. If the beast’s nerves are as sensitive as its chitin, this will force a moment of hesitation.
The monstrous shadow falters in mid-air. Its descent slows, the obsidian barbs shuddering as the hypnotic cadence ripples through the humid mist. The creature tilts its massive head, mandibles clicking softly, momentarily entranced by the Butcher’s unexpected melody.
RagNook Butcher of the East
Now, while the rhythm holds its brain hostage, I carve a path to its softest joint.
Eldred watches, his jaw slackening as he realizes the butcher is not fighting with steel alone.
“Targeting the Soft Joints and weak spot, attacks the Creature with deadly precision”
FAILURE (Fair Agility, rolled -2)
RagNook lunges, cleaver raised high to strike the creature's exposed neck. Just as he pivots, his heavy boot catches on a slick, moss-covered root. The momentum betrays him, and his swing goes wide, burying the blade deep into the bark of an ancient oak instead of the beast.
The Beast of Ironwood
With a screech that shreds the silence, the creature snaps out of its trance. It lashes out, a razor-tipped limb catching RagNook across the shoulder and sending him sprawling into the mud.
RagNook Butcher of the East
My footing is gone, and the beast is already recoiling to strike again. I have left myself open, and this hide is tougher than I anticipated.
Eldred scrambles backward, his hands pressed to his ears, eyes wide with the realization that the hunter has missed his mark. The monster chitters, its mandibles dripping with renewed hunger as it pivots to face the fallen butcher.
“Jump to my feet and attempt to recover my weapon from the tree”
SUCCESS (Fair Agility, rolled +1)
RagNook rolls through the mire, his massive muscles bunching as he explodes upward. He ignores the stinging gash on his shoulder, his eyes locked onto the handle of his cleaver. He reaches the oak, his fingers wrapping around the hilt. With a roar of exertion, he wrenches the steel free, wood splintering as the blade tears loose.
RagNook Butcher of the East
That bark is stubborn, but the steel is keen. The beast is still reeling from its own momentum, giving me just enough of an opening.
The Beast of Ironwood
The creature chitters, its many-jointed legs clicking against the wet stones as it skitters, trying to regain its footing after the failed strike. It turns its bulbous, multifaceted eyes toward the butcher, sensing the shifting tide of the hunt.
Eldred remains huddled near the ferns, his eyes wide and trembling as he watches the butcher pull his weapon from the wood.
The beast arches its back, preparing to pounce again, its mandibles wide and dripping. Will RagNook hold his ground for a counter-strike, or maneuver for a better angle?
“He holds his ground, waiting till the last moment and diving out of the way of the charging beast, so it smashes into the tree behind”
FAILURE (Fair Agility, rolled -3)
RagNook plants his feet, muscles coiled to shift aside at the final heartbeat. As the Beast of Ironwood launches itself, the orc pivots, but his heavy boot catches a slick, moss-covered stone. He stumbles, his balance shattered, and he collapses hard into the mud a second too late.
RagNook Butcher of the East
Too slow. The mud has betrayed me.
Instead of smashing into the oak, the beast grazes RagNook’s side, its serrated limb carving a shallow, searing path across his ribs before it slams headlong into the base of the tree. The impact is bone-jarring, showering the forest floor in splinters and wet leaves. RagNook lies sprawled in the muck, his cleaver sliding from his desperate grip and spinning away into the shadows of the brush. The beast shakes its massive head, Mandibles clicking in a rhythmic, predatory fury as it recovers faster than the butcher.
Eldred covers his mouth with both hands, his eyes wide and unblinking as he watches the beast fixate on the downed orc.
“Using a carving knife as a weapon, I attempt one last desperate strike against the beasts weak spots”
SUCCESS (Legendary Cooking, rolled +2)
RagNook Butcher of the East
It is not the blade that defines the butcher, but the hand that wields it.
As the beast lunges, its acidic jaws wide, RagNook rolls beneath the snapping mandibles. He ignores the sting of the mud against his fresh wounds. His fingers snap to his hip, drawing his razor-sharp, six-inch steel carving knife. With a grunt of exertion, he lunges upward, driving the fine, thin blade into the soft, exposed gap between the creature's armored neck plates.
The beast lets out a discordant, wet shriek as the steel bites deep, severing the nerve cluster controlling its frontal limbs. It skids to a halt, twitching violently as dark, viscous ichor erupts from the wound, spraying the foliage. The creature collapses, its momentum spent, while RagNook stands panting over the downed monster, knife slick with glistening fluid.
Eldred
Stares, mouth agape, his trembling hands finally falling to his sides as the forest falls deathly silent.
Quest Complete
Hunt the beast of Ironwood
Item Acquired: Ironwood Cleaver