initial umbral 1/2

.vscode/settings.json

@@ -1,5 +1,7 @@
 {
     "cSpell.words": [
+        "Alfie",
+        "Almuth",
         "Chondalwood",
         "Chondath",
         "extraplanar",
@@ -9,7 +11,11 @@
         "Figridge",
         "Gottlob",
         "Grinbriar",
+        "harengon",
+        "Karmel",
         "nelist",
-        "Waterdeep"
+        "Venron",
+        "Waterdeep",
+        "Whitlock"
     ]
 }

acl.cool/site/draft/umbral0.5.dj

@@ -1 +0,0 @@
-# Umbral Gaze #^1^/~2~

acl.cool/site/writings/gottlob.dj

@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-# Woes of Gottlob Graal: Umbral Gaze #0
+# Woes of Gottlob Graal: Umbral Gaze 0
 
 Gottlob Graal is a level-{five,ten} Watchers' Oath paladin, a satyr, bent on avoiding a faery card sharp he pissed off years ago during a regular visit to the Feywild. He fled that plane and his native Chondalwood for Waterdeep, half a continent away, where he took up defenses against any and all extraplanar pursuers. At first he just wanted to avoid his creditor, but later, finding purpose and fraternity in the city as never before, the satyr began to feel at home. A jovial fellow, Gottlob is energetic in his late middle-age, but finds the reckless carousing of his youth a bit beyond him now.
 

acl.cool/site/writings/umbral0.5.dj

@@ -0,0 +1,44 @@
+# Umbral Gaze ^1^/~2~
+
+It's early morning; our intrepid adventurers are just beginning their day. They awaken in Venron, a small inland village equilatitudinal to the southern Sword Coast, where, for one reason or another, each wound up stopping for rest the night before.
+
+The centaur Clementine[^clementine] helps a farmer store his crops, managing bins of grain with ease. On her back hangs a powerful bow, but she has no need of it now--- as she takes in the wind and the smell of earth and the stirring sounds of nature, she's at peace.
+
+Warren[^warren], a harengon, clad in plate and festooned with weaponry, makes breakfast over an outdoor fire. A local innkeeper, unexpectedly short-staffed this morning, follows the succulent smell of Warren's griddle to its source and beseeches that he come cook for _him_ today, just through the breakfast rush, and for an outstanding wage too! Our harengon friend obliges, happy for some coin. As the innkeeper thinks back on things later, he decides that he may have been too generous--- or perhaps just too desperate.
+
+In the scant lanes of Venron, a _llama_ breathes the cool light of dawn; an ornate pendant hangs from its neck. No villager suspects the creature of its true identity: she is a powerful wizard, Louisa Whitlock[^louisa], cursed by an unseen adversary to wander Faerûn on four legs.
+
+Further on, Karmel[^karmel], a brightly-dressed human, snoozes under a tree, indulging in an early morning nap. His tightly-drawn ponytail lies splayed about him as it gathers subtle moisture from the dewy grass. A noise wakes him, and he plods off in search of breakfast.
+
+Across the road from where Warren now mans a stove, hunkered in Venron's cheapest and poorest inn, Almuth Cheerio[^almuth] sits down to "pancakes", a half-elf woman and a human man beside him. Is his usual way, the gray-haired, white-robed cleric of Eldath strikes up a conversation and begins to steer it casually toward the subject of his deity. His captive companions are unusually receptive.
+
+By the town's northern entrance, Gottlob Graal[^gottlob], a satyr, chats with a lone town guard. Though the guard can get in little more to their conversation than the occasional nod or word of confusion, he is grateful for the aid staying awake near the end of his long shift. Still, as minutes threaten to become hours, he wearily wishes that this chatty goat and his obvious comb-over would find someone else to regale with pointless trivia and dubious stories of past revels.
+
+As the morning continues and the breakfast hour draws to a close, villagers and adventurers alike begin to take notice of a giant frog, apparently arrived undetected early in the morning. The monstrously massy amphibian perches with apparent ease, though presumed precariousness, over the mouth of the town's main well, which is adjacent to the inn wherein Warren now labors. A second guard, a half-elf, approaches Gottlob and his interlocutor for the changing shift. Drawing up close, he takes the helmeted head of the latter between his hands and turns it forcibly toward the frog; neither Gottlob nor his companion have looked down the road for some time. "That's becoming a problem now, ay!", the new arrival injects, but the tired and frankly overwhelmed human just stares, uncaring or uncomprehending. Gottlob, suddenly aware of the potential danger, abandons his conversation and heads toward the well--- giant frogs aren't unheard of on the prime material, but they are common in the Feywild. He casts "detect evil and good", furtively, a little embarrassed, but finds nothing to fear from other planes this morning. "Perhaps the frog is enchanted", he thinks, but doesn't bother with "detect magic", satisfied to know that if there is any threat, at least it's native.
+
+Almuth, having finished his breakfast across the street, comes outside and makes his way over to the curiously poised anuran. He tests the bounds of it docility, inching close and pushing it gently, trying to physically coax it off the well, but he wisely backs away when it shows signs of aggression. Almuth has a better idea and heads back to his room to prepare for his next attempt. Gottlob starts to follow, thinking to chat a bit with this interesting fellow, but the cleric doesn't even notice.
+
+Most townsfolk have now begun to take heed of the commotion. The innkeeper offers Karmel, who chose the establishment for his breakfast, a profligate sum to remove the frog from its perch--- the villagers need water and the innkeeper needs one less shiny green gargoyle at the entrance scaring away his customers--- so the bard makes his way outside. The rest of the party shows up apace, finished with their respective morning activities and finally getting keyed in to the issue at hand.
+
+Almuth has returned. He invokes the magic of his goddess to "calm" bumpy green "emotions", which he hopes will make the beast more receptive to his coaxing, but alas, with no success. Peering sidelong down into the well, he determines the reason for the frog's obstinacy: it's guarding a milky, speckled mass of eggs with its life. As he makes this known to spectators, the innkeeper repeats to Karmel--- and to any who will listen--- the earlier offer of payment for the relocation of the frog and its clutch. Almuth and Karmel hatch a plan: they'll retrieve the eggs from the well with the winch bucket, then hightail it to the nearest large body of water, wherein they can deposit the eggs and the no-doubt fiercely pursuing frog. They find a wagon, but fail to find a horse; the centaur Clementine is the only unoccupied equine around, who, though she finds it slightly demeaning, volunteers to pull the load.
+
+As they put their plan to voice, a man appears and introduces himself as Alfie. He offers information about the area, where the frog may have come from, and what it might take to put it back. The adventurers learn that the nearest suitable body of water is nearly three-hours' swift ride from Venron! Only something truly dire could have driven the amphibian this far from home, no mere fancy or wanderlust. The plan is revised--- the frog will be taken to this distant lake and whatever expelled it will be brought under control or vanquished! Almuth calms the frog magically, with success this time, and Clementine carefully maneuvers the eggs into the bucket and up, out of the well. Seeing their success, and having nothing better to do at the moment--- or perhaps just catching wind of money to be earned--- Gottlob interjects. He can provide another horse (and says as much, to Clementine's chagrin), which should speed the journey considerably. He casts "find steed", and hitches the ensuing beast to the growing party's rented wagon. Warren and Louisa decide that this is getting interesting, and each likewise decides to attend the mission. Before the party sets off, Almuth probes Alfie for further helpfulness and tries to convince the man to accompany the party on this journey, but the only help Alfie will be convinced to give is a map of the area and directions to the lake.
+
+The mission gets underway. As the party journeys, its members talk amongst themselves. Almuth expresses interest in the Feywild, and queries Clementine and Gottlob about their origins to that effect. Clementine is reticent, but Gottlob shares a bit of his past. The satyr hails from Chondalwood, in the south-eastern country of Chondath, but he has visited the Feywild on numerous occasions and under a variety of circumstances. Alas, he can never return to that plane, nor even to his home, lest he be caught and made to pay a gambling debt owed to a powerful fey.
+
+As they near the lake, a swarm of birds can be heard above; Clementine uses magic to understand their caws. She listens as the ravens squabble over whether to attack the group. "Those eggs look so tasty, but those people are _so_ well-armed!" Gluttony beats self-preservation, and the swarm dives to attack. They snatch an egg or two, but are easily beaten back with magic and swords. The giant frog even gets in on the action, launching its huge, sticky harpoon of a tongue to swallow a score of ravens like flies. Though he's too late to object, Almuth wonders whether killing the birds was really necessary.
+
+As the lake begins to come into view, the terrain grows low and a thick miasma fills the party's nostrils. They abandon their charges for the moment, at a safe distance from whatever caused the great carrion slick they've just noticed over the water, and no doubt from which emanates this odor that clogs their every orifice. As they disembark, Clementine asks the frog what exactly it was that drove it from its home. "Big thing, many heads!", it answers. Forging onward toward the shore, the party spots what appear to be five crocodiles, just their eyes and nostrils breaching the surface. Clementine queries them--- do they know what's going on here? Why do they seem so unbothered? They divulge no helpful information, but the centaur gets her answer as the five crocodile heads are jerked out of the water by five necks, all joined at the base. A hydra! No wonder the place reeks...
+
+As the party is thrown into combat, Gottlob takes the first action, moving his steed laterally as he casts "moonbeam" on the monster's position. In the heat of melee, Warren does substantial damage with "guiding bolt", and the other party members make good use of the advantage it grants them. Karmel wraps the Hydra's many teeth in sheathes of water, dulling its bite and reducing the danger to his companions. Louisa casts "fireball", a foresighted choice against their many-headed foe, but the hydra attacks Warren viciously in response, nearly downing him. He fights on bravely, and the party manages to avoid most damage while striking reliably at their enemy's vitality, until Clementine is similarly attacked. As the Hydra bites the her, Louisa seen an opening. She reaches out to the weave and summons a trio of magic missiles. Sure that they will find their targets, she sends them hurtling upward, piercing through the hydras multitude of necks in a triple sextuple collateral. The monster crumples and splays, half floating on the lake, half lying on the shore.
+
+***
+
+Our heroic band of adventurers has slain a terror and lived to enjoy the rewards! In the following days, merchants and scavengers cart away the hydra--- a valuable prize--- and skim the lake of its refuse. The giant frog returns to its life as before, guarding its young in the lake's shallow sloughs just for a few more days, when they hatch dozens of new, tiny giant frogs into the world. The party members collect their gold in town and go their separate ways, but they worked well together. Perhaps they will meet again, someday.
+
+[^clementine]: A Centaur ranger
+[^warren]: A Harengon forge cleric
+[^louisa]: A Human (llama) wizard of the scribes' order
+[^karmel]: A Human bard
+[^almuth]: A Human peace cleric of Eldath
+[^gottlob]: A Satyr paladin of the Watchers

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