ChatGPT said:

  The group sets off at a steady pace, the forest canopy filtering the morning sunlight into shifting patches of gold and green. The air is crisp, and the scent of damp earth lingers after the night’s chill.

  Sienna leads with confident strides, guiding them through the underbrush and winding deer trails that promise a safer route away from the main roads. Vannis stays near the center of the group, flanked by Trevor and Aren, while Greg takes up the rear, keeping an eye on their surroundings.

  The journey begins uneventfully, but after about an hour, Sienna slows and raises a hand for the party to halt.

  “Something’s ahead,” she whispers, crouching slightly. “Could be nothing, but we’re not alone.”

  Greg instinctively tightens his grip on his greataxe, his senses sharpening. “Where?” he mutters.

  Sienna gestures ahead. “About fifty yards. Movement in the brush. Either animals… or something else.”

  Aren swallows hard, clearly remembering the ambush from the night before. Trevor shifts his stance, readying his weapon. Vannis remains uncharacteristically quiet.

  Greg now has a choice—investigate carefully, try to avoid whatever’s ahead, or ready for a possible fight.

  I said:

  "Think it'll give me ten minutes to better scope it out?" comes Greg's joke from the back. He gets nothing but blank stares back.

  "Sorry bad habit of mine," the half-orc quickly apologizes saying making light of situations is his way of dealing with stress.

  "Do you see any path around," he then asks Sienna. "You know should it be some nasty forest fiend taking a snooze."

  ChatGPT said:

  Sienna smirks slightly at Greg’s attempt at humor but keeps her focus ahead. “There’s a way around, yeah, but it’ll cost us time and take us through some thicker underbrush. No guarantee we won’t stumble into something else either.”

  She glances at the others. “Could be nothing. Could be something watching us. Hard to tell without getting closer.”

  Trevor frowns, adjusting his grip on his sword. “If it’s bandits or worse, I’d rather not have them at our backs later.”

  Aren looks nervous but nods. “Maybe just a quick look?”

  Vannis exhales sharply. “We keep stopping, we’ll never make it to town. But if we must…” He doesn’t finish his thought, but it’s clear he’s growing impatient.

  Greg now has to decide—push forward and investigate, take the long way around, or try to slip by unnoticed.

  I said:

  "We can sneak past it." Greg sounding rather confident of the idea trying to go around it, rather than through it.

  ChatGPT said:

  Sienna gives a slow nod, scanning the area. "Alright. Let’s keep it quiet and move carefully."

  Trevor and Aren exchange glances but follow suit, adjusting their footing to minimize noise. Vannis, though still impatient, doesn't argue, understanding that getting ambushed wouldn’t serve him any better.

  Greg leads with a careful but steady pace, his instincts sharp as he guides the group around the source of the noise. The underbrush is dense in places, requiring some slow maneuvering, but everyone is making an effort to stay quiet.

  (Make a group Stealth check. Greg can roll his own and I’ll determine how well the others do based on their skills and the terrain.)

  I said:

  Greg's Stealth roll is a 13 for a 15 total.

  ChatGPT said:

  Greg moves as carefully as he can, his footfalls lighter than one might expect from someone of his size. The others do their best as well:

  Sienna moves with practiced ease, her experience as a ranger showing.

  Trevor is fairly quiet, though his armor creaks slightly.

  Aren stumbles once on a loose root but manages to catch himself before making too much noise.

  Vannis—well, Vannis isn't terrible, but he's clearly not used to moving stealthily through the wilds.

  The group skirts the area where the deep breathing was heard, weaving through dense foliage and keeping an ear out for any disturbance.

  Greg, keeping his senses sharp, notices the shape through a small break in the brush—a massive bear-like creature curled up in a shallow dip in the forest floor. Its fur is dark, matted, and coarse, with thick, jagged scars across its body. Even at rest, it radiates an imposing presence.

  For now, it remains undisturbed. The group is nearly past it.

  (If you want, Greg can make a Perception check to see if anything else about the creature stands out, or you can just keep moving to avoid pushing your luck.)

  I said:

  Greg always felt drawn to the visage of the ursine. After all, one is his totem spirit.

  He will make a Perception check on this as they pass, hanging back just a bit to get a better glimpse.

  A roll of 9 for a 11 total.

  ChatGPT said:

  As Greg lingers just a moment longer, watching the great beast slumber, he notices a few details despite the dim light filtering through the trees.

  The bear-like creature is unnaturally large—even bigger than a normal dire bear. Its fur is patchy in places, revealing strange, pale scars that look almost like burn marks, but not quite. More unsettling is the faint greenish glow pulsing deep within some of the scars, barely noticeable beneath its thick hide.

  It’s breathing heavily, but there’s an occasional low rumbling growl, like it’s dreaming—or perhaps reacting to something unseen.

  Greg's gut stirs. Something about this creature feels… wrong, but he can’t quite place why. It isn’t just a normal animal.

  A few paces ahead, Sienna quietly signals him to move along. The group is almost clear of the danger.

  Does Greg keep moving, or does he want to take a closer look?

  I said:

  Greg's gut is telling him this is wrong. And his experience with the dead not-dead dire wolf last night is a fitting portent to let this be. Seeing it again - and to his favorite animal - would hurt his heart. It was best just to think it could be something else.

  Greg keeps pace with the rest of the party.

  ChatGPT said:

  Greg silently moves on, rejoining the others as they continue through the forest, leaving the slumbering beast behind.

  Sienna glances at him as he catches up, perhaps noting the slight tension in his expression. She doesn’t comment, simply nods and presses forward.

  The journey remains quiet for a while, the group instinctively keeping their voices low, the forest feeling strangely heavier after passing the creature.

  After a bit, Trevor exhales softly, adjusting his grip on his sword. “That… was unsettling.”

  Aren, keeping close to Vannis, mutters, “Let’s hope that’s the worst of today’s surprises.”

  Sienna simply keeps scanning the terrain ahead. The morning light is getting stronger, but they still have a ways to go before reaching town.

  Greg gets the sense that whatever that thing was… he may not have seen the last of it.

  Would he like to say anything to the group, or continue pressing on?

  I said:

  Greg will confess that he thinks it was a bear affected whatever necromancy had gripped the dire wolf. "I definitely saw a greenish glow ... as if coming from within," is one of his descriptions

  The half-orc ends the topic with, "But I'm not that good with magic. I just hit stuff."

  ChatGPT said:

  Sienna frowns at Greg’s description, her eyes narrowing in thought. “That makes two creatures now,” she murmurs, her voice low but troubled.

  Trevor exhales sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “Great. First undead wolves, now undead bears? What’s next, deer with glowing eyes?”

  Aren, ever the quiet one, just tightens his grip on Vannis’ arm. The nobleman himself looks deeply unsettled, his face pale.

  “I don’t like this,” Sienna finally says, shaking her head. “If necromancy is spreading like this, it’s not just some isolated event. Something—or someone—is behind it.”

  Greg’s last comment about "just hitting stuff" earns him a smirk from her, but it’s short-lived. “You might not be good with magic, but you’ve got instincts. And I trust those more than I trust a wizard’s ramblings.”

  She looks ahead again, her sharp eyes scanning the path forward. “Let’s just keep moving. The sooner we get to town, the sooner we can figure out what the hell is going on.”

  Does Greg want to respond, or just keep moving?

  I said:

  "Does Ormstead have a standing militia?" Greg trying to suss out if the local populace would be able to deal with a situation such as this.

  ChatGPT said:

  Sienna shakes her head. “Not really. Ormstead’s a small town—farmers, hunters, traders mostly. They have a sheriff and a handful of deputies, but nothing that could handle anything worse than a drunken brawl or the occasional bandit raid.”

  Trevor exhales sharply. “So if something worse is happening… they’re sitting ducks.”

  Aren frowns. “Maybe we should warn them. At least let the town know what we saw.”

  Vannis, still shaken, clears his throat. “Ormstead’s no fortress, but it’s not entirely helpless. Some of the locals are veterans, retired mercs, or former adventurers. They’ve handled trouble before.”

  Sienna nods. “Still, if undead beasts are appearing in the woods, they need to know. We’ll have to decide whether we just pass the word along or stick around to help.”

  She glances at Greg. “What do you think? Deliver the warning and move on, or stay and see this through?”

  I said:

  "We'll definitely notify those worth notifying of what we managed to find. Well once we get there."

  Greg thinks back to the big dead tree, "While I may hate running from a challenge ... even the best warriors know when it best not to fight."

  ChatGPT said:

  Sienna gives Greg an approving nod. “Wise words. No sense in charging into something blind.”

  Trevor lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Glad to hear it. I’d rather not pick a fight with something I don’t understand.”

  Aren, who had been quietly listening, speaks up. “Then let’s make sure we get to Ormstead in one piece first. No point in warning them if we end up lost—or worse.”

  Vannis, still weary but clearly eager to leave the forest behind, gestures ahead. “We should keep moving. The sooner we reach town, the better.”

  Sienna leads the way once more, picking a careful but steady path through the undergrowth.

  Greg can feel the weight of the morning's discovery lingering in the back of his mind, but for now, the road ahead is clear.

  I said:

  We push on, maybe taking a small short rest to do some light foraging for something edible the forest can provide.

  ChatGPT said:

  As the group pushes forward, the morning air remains crisp, the scent of damp earth and pine hanging in the air. After another hour or so of steady travel, Sienna suggests a brief stop near a small clearing where wild berries and edible roots might be found.

  “I’ll see what I can scrounge up,” she says, slinging her bow over her shoulder. “No fire, though. We don’t want to draw attention.”

  Greg, feeling the weight of the march, takes the opportunity to stretch his legs and scan the area himself. His survival instincts kick in as he searches for something edible—mushrooms, roots, or even some small game that could be quickly caught and prepared.

  (Greg can roll Survival to see how well he does in foraging.)

  I said:

  oof, rolled a Nat-1 to make it a 3 total

  ChatGPT said:

  Greg's attempt at foraging goes about as poorly as it possibly could. He finds a handful of berries that look almost edible—until Sienna smacks them out of his hand with a sharp, "Unless you want to spend the rest of the trip doubled over in agony, don't eat those."

  He also stumbles upon what appears to be a promising cluster of mushrooms, but upon closer inspection, they're riddled with tiny bite marks—likely from some woodland creature that probably has a higher tolerance for toxins than a half-orc.

  By the end of the stop, Greg's stomach grumbles in protest, and the best he manages to scrounge up is a few twigs and a rock that kinda looks like a potato if you squint at it just right.

  Meanwhile, Sienna and the others manage to gather a small assortment of edible roots and nuts, though it's nothing extravagant.

  With the brief rest over, the party is ready to move on. Does Greg say anything about his impressive foraging attempt, or just move along like nothing happened?

  I said:

  No, Greg will pretend as if nothing had happened. The only telling sign is his grimace-like smile would look even more awkward as he tries to play off his blunders.

  "Perhaps this was just a bad spot," he mutters as his excuse.

  "Anyways if everyone's caught their breath, I suggest we continue moving. I'd like to press on until the sun sets, and maybe a few hours past that if we can manage it."

  ChatGPT said:

  Sienna gives Greg a side-eye but doesn’t call him out on his bad spot excuse. Instead, she just smirks slightly before shouldering her pack.

  "Sounds like a plan. The sooner we get to Ormstead, the better," she agrees.

  Aren and Trevor nod, still weary but clearly motivated by the promise of proper shelter ahead. Vannis, on the other hand, stretches with a groan, muttering something about aching joints and how he wasn’t built for this kind of travel.

  With the brief rest over, the group sets out again, pushing deeper into the forest. The afternoon stretches on, the canopy above shifting from golden hues to deeper shades of orange and red as the sun begins its slow descent.

  Would Greg like to keep an eye out for anything in particular during this next leg of the journey? Or just focus on covering as much ground as possible?

  I said:

  Yes, Greg is hanging in the back of the travel order, using either Perception or Survival as to either aid in scouting or danger awareness. However Greg would insist the party push as much as they can.

  "-after all, the bandits may have sent a few parties to chase us."

  In Greg's opinion of last night's successful escape - and considering the day of travel thus far - does it feel like they are being tracked?

  ChatGPT said:

  That’s a smart instinct. Greg’s warrior’s gut tells him that while they managed to put some serious distance between themselves and the bandit camp, it’d be foolish to assume the bandits wouldn’t eventually send someone after them—especially if they had numbers to spare.

  Go ahead and roll Survival or Perception (your choice) to determine if Greg notices any signs of pursuit.

  I said:

  Will roll Perception for this. (However do note his Survival roll has the same modifier.)

  This roll was much better, a 16. Makes it a 18 total.

  ChatGPT said:

  With an 18 in Perception, Greg keeps a sharp eye on the surroundings as they travel. The dense forest offers natural cover, but as he glances back occasionally and listens to the sounds around him, something nags at his instincts.

  He doesn't see clear signs of pursuit—no obvious footprints, broken branches, or distant figures weaving through the trees. However, he gets the feeling they aren't entirely alone. Every now and then, he notices birds taking flight further back along their path, as if something has disturbed them. The usual sounds of the forest—chittering insects, rustling foliage—seem just a little too quiet at times.

  If they’re being followed, their trackers are skilled or cautious. There's no immediate sign of an ambush, but Greg’s gut tells him someone might be out there, keeping their distance… for now.

  I said:

  Greg notices the little oddities of nature around them. However pushing this group on still seems the wisest course for now.

  But the half-orc will attempt to use his Spirit Seeker feature when they find a safe spot to camp for the coming night. Hoping this communion could shed light on this issue.

  But still the barbarian barks "forward" or "press on" when he sees either of the three humans slacking off on this trek.

  ChatGPT said:

  The party presses on, with Greg keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings and keeping the group moving despite their obvious fatigue. Trevor and Aren exchange weary glances but push forward, while Vannis—still looking pale from his time in captivity—doesn’t complain, though his movements are sluggish. Sienna, as always, keeps her thoughts to herself, leading the way with a keen eye on their surroundings.

  The journey continues for several more hours, the sun eventually beginning its descent toward the horizon. The forest canopy dims, casting long shadows across the uneven ground. It’s clear they need to find a place to rest soon.

  When they do, Greg will attempt to use his Spirit Seeker ability, hoping to commune with nature to determine if anything unnatural is lurking nearby.

  (Let me know how you’d like to roleplay this—whether Greg is attempting to sense nearby animals, listen for whispers on the wind, or something else.)

  I said:

  (Well let's try to find the safe spot to camp first, then we can get back to the roleplay.)

  ChatGPT said:

  Understood! Let’s have Greg or Sienna roll Survival to locate a secure campsite before night fully settles in. Since Greg is assisting with scouting, he can either roll himself or give Advantage to Sienna’s roll.

  Let me know how you’d like to handle it!

  I said:

  "I think we traveled far enough this day," Greg notes with the sky under the forest canopy blending to its nightscape. This is a cue that Sienna can shift more to finding a more secure location to stop.

  (Greg will assist Sienna here)

  ChatGPT said:

  With Greg assisting, Sienna rolls Survival with Advantage to locate a well-hidden and defensible campsite for the night.

  She rolls a 17, making it a 22 total with her modifiers.

  After a short search, she leads the group to a natural rock overhang, nestled against a ridge with a small trickling stream nearby. Thick bushes and trees provide extra concealment, and there are no signs of recent disturbances in the area.

  “This should do,” Sienna says, scanning the surroundings. “Good cover, fresh water, and defensible if we need it.”

  Greg, how do you proceed? Do you want to set up camp right away, use Spirit Seeker now, or take any precautions first?

  I said:

  Greg barks some orders to Trevor and Aren, asking if they can make ready the camp while Sienna takes a short breather while keeping a watchful eye about.

  Greg will then remark that he will attempt to commune with the area-

  "I noticed some birds acting oddly during our march. Maybe it's nothing, but maybe it's not."

  Greg hopes if not the animals, then maybe his instincts can guide him towards the reason.

  ChatGPT said:

  As Greg settles in and focuses on his Spirit Seeker connection, he reaches out to the surrounding nature, hoping to attune himself to the land’s whispers.

  For several moments, the forest seems still, only the faint rustling of leaves and the trickling of the stream filling the air. Then, a shift—an unnatural absence of sound in certain directions. The typical chorus of insects, small critters, and birds is missing beyond a certain northern boundary, as if something in that region has driven them away.

  Further, the residual sense of wrongness clings to the land, much like what Greg felt back near the dead tree and the "sleeping" bear. He can’t pinpoint exactly what it is, but it confirms his suspicions—something unnatural, necromantic, lingers in this forest.

  When Greg opens his eyes, the connection fades, but the feeling remains.

  Sienna glances over, arms crossed. "Well? Did the spirits whisper anything useful?"

  I said:

  "I heard nothing ..." however the ranger can see Greg frowning, "But that's the problem."

  Greg will then summarize what he felt in his little ritual.

  "Normally the common sounds of the forest would be magnified with my connection, especially in a heavy woodland like this. Even if the little buggers don't feel like chatting with ya."

  The half-orc's face then looks strained though considering his more inconsiderate nature as a trained mercenary may be to blame here.

  ChatGPT said:

  Sienna nods slowly, her expression serious. “That’s worse than hearing bad news. The quiet means something’s out there—something the animals fear enough to leave.”

  She glances toward the direction Greg described, then exhales through her nose. “We should take watches in pairs tonight. If anything unnatural comes lurking, I don’t want to be caught off guard.”

  Trevor and Aren, who had been setting up the campfire, exchange looks. “Just when I thought we’d get a quiet night,” Trevor mutters.

  Greg can tell the others trust his instincts, but the tension in the group has grown. The question remains—should they just rest and stay put, or prepare to move at the first sign of trouble?

  I said:

  "We will still make camp here tonight. Just be prepared to move at a moment's notice."

  Greg will then set up the watch order with Sienna and Trevor taking the first two watches and Greg and Aren taking the latter two. Vannis is not asked anything more than to get as much rest as he can.

  (Since the party didn't take on any combat this day, each of the two watches will last for 4 hours. Then after Sienna and Trevor get their 4-hour sleep, enough for 4 short rests and narratively enough time to ward off physical exhaustion, the group will continue on with travel into the next day.)

  (That is of course assuming nothing happens during this night.)

  ChatGPT said:

  With the watch schedule set, the party settles in, though there’s an air of unease lingering over the camp. The night stretches on, the sounds of crackling embers and shifting leaves filling the void left by the absent wildlife.

  First Watch: Sienna & Trevor

  Sienna remains alert, eyes scanning the darkness, while Trevor grips his sword hilt a little too tightly. The tension is thick, but the forest remains still. An occasional gust of wind rustles the trees, but nothing disturbs the camp.

  Second Watch: Greg & Aren

  Greg awakens for his shift, stretching off the stiffness of the ground as Aren nods to him, rubbing sleep from his eyes. The two men keep watch, their gazes sweeping the treeline, but the strange silence persists.

  As the night drags toward its end, Greg notices something strange. There’s no movement, no sound—just the oppressive stillness pressing in. And then, for the briefest moment, he swears he sees a figure among the distant trees—just at the edge of his darkvision. A humanoid shape, unmoving. Watching.

  When Greg focuses, it’s gone. The treeline remains empty.

  Does Greg investigate, wake the others, or simply stay alert and wait?

  I said:

  When Greg notices the strange humanoid figure, he quickly calls Aren over to whisper, "I'm seeing someone in the distance. Could be a bandit, or could be something worse. Just go wake the others ... but keep Vannis out," surmising it'd probably be best to let the merchant lord sleep (laying down) to better avoid detection from a possible hostile.

  ChatGPT said:

  Aren’s eyes widen slightly at Greg’s words, but he nods without hesitation. Moving carefully, he crouches low and quietly makes his way toward the others. He gently shakes Sienna and Trevor awake, whispering, “Greg spotted something—human-shaped, watching us.”

  Meanwhile, Greg keeps his eyes locked on the treeline, body tense like a coiled spring. The figure does not reappear, but the eerie feeling of being observed lingers.

  Sienna is up in an instant, already reaching for her bow, while Trevor unsheathes his blade with slow precision. Aren whispers, “Orders?” looking between Greg and Sienna.

  How does Greg want to proceed? Engage? Hold position and observe? Attempt to communicate?

  I said:

  Greg will attempt to re-commune with Spirit Seeker. He doesn't expect this to work, as it normally only reaches out to beast-like creatures, but it is worth a shot in this tense standoff.

  He would just add, "Be on guard. We might have to pick up and move out if this continues."

  ChatGPT said:

  Greg closes his eyes, grounding himself as he reaches out with his Spirit Seeker ability, trying to attune himself to the natural world once more. He knows that typically, this connection is strongest with beasts, but with the strange silence in the forest and the eerie presence in the distance, perhaps something—or someone—will answer.

  The moments stretch, the only sound the quiet breathing of his companions as they keep a wary watch. At first, there is nothing, just the usual pull of nature’s rhythms… but then, something strange. A flickering impression—almost a whisper—like the rustling of leaves without wind. The sense of something near, something watching, yet not fully of this world. The presence is unnatural, but it does not feel like a beast or even an ordinary man.

  And then, just as suddenly as it appeared, the sensation vanishes.

  Greg opens his eyes, feeling the weight of his unanswered questions. The figure is still unseen, but the forest remains unnervingly quiet. Sienna looks to him, tense but patient. "Did you feel anything?" she asks in a hushed voice.

  What does Greg make of this? Does he take it as a warning sign and push the group to move, or does he want to investigate further?

  I said:

  "Definitely something out there, but it was too unnatural a feeling," he answers Sienna with the best description he could.

  "Get the lord up, we moving out." And Greg takes up a readied stance to guard the others as they rush to pack up the camp.

  ChatGPT said:

  Sienna nods grimly and moves quickly to rouse Vannis, while Aren and Trevor work in near silence to break down the camp. There’s no time for a proper pack-up—bedrolls are hastily rolled, and whatever isn’t immediately necessary is left behind. The tension in the air thickens, the unseen presence lingering like a cold breath on the back of Greg’s neck.

  Vannis groggily rises, blinking in confusion. "What’s going on?" he mutters, but the urgency in Sienna’s grip on his arm silences any complaints.

  Greg stands at the ready, eyes sweeping the trees. He doesn’t see movement, but that same wrongness remains, just beyond perception.

  How does Greg want to lead the group? Does he take the same path they were following earlier, or does he try to divert through a less predictable route?

  I said:

  Greg mulls his options.

  "Sienna, about how much ground do we need to cover to make it to Ormstead?"

  ChatGPT said:

  Sienna keeps her voice low, her sharp eyes scanning the dark forest. "At our normal pace? Another full day's travel, maybe a bit more. But if we push hard, we could reach the outskirts by late evening."

  She frowns. "But we’d be exhausted. And if we’re being hunted... that could be dangerous in itself."

  Greg’s instincts tell him that whatever is out there isn't rushing them—it’s watching, waiting. The longer they linger, the worse this could get.

  Does Greg push for speed, or does he take a more cautious but potentially slower approach?

  I said:

  "No torches, but keep close. We are going to try to lose whatever this thing is now. I don't really fancy a battle with a foe unseen."

  ChatGPT said:

  Sienna nods, her expression tense but resolute. "Agreed. Stay light on your feet."

  Trevor and Aren rouse Vannis quickly, explaining the situation in hushed tones. The merchant lord looks groggy and disgruntled but doesn't argue—perhaps the unease in the air is enough for even him to take the danger seriously.

  With no torches to give them away, the party moves swiftly yet carefully through the forest, staying close enough to see each other in the dim moonlight. The canopy overhead makes it difficult, but Greg’s instincts guide them forward.

  Now, everyone will need to make a group Stealth check to avoid detection. Greg, roll Stealth! (I’ll handle the others.)

  I said:

  (Oh this is not good, another natural 1. Makes Stealth a 3 total.)

  ChatGPT said:

  As the party moves through the darkened forest, Greg, despite his best efforts, misjudges his footing on a loose patch of earth. His heavy step lands squarely on a brittle, half-rotted branch—CRACK! The sharp sound echoes through the quiet woods like a thunderclap.

  Everyone freezes.

  From behind, in the direction of their abandoned camp, a low, guttural clicking noise begins to rise, rhythmic and unnatural. It’s soon joined by another. Then another.

  The sound grows, almost like chitin scraping against chitin. Then—movement. Something is approaching, fast.

  Sienna swears under her breath, eyes darting around. “We need to move. Now.”

  What does Greg do?

  I said:

  "Brace for combat," Greg snarls after his own guttural curse to his error. His greataxe is fully brandished.

  "Sienna, you stay with Vannis in the back. Try to keep to the enemy rear."

  "You two with me," referring to Trevor and Aren, "Cover my flank."

  ChatGPT said:

  The group quickly forms up as Greg commands, weapons drawn and eyes scanning the shifting darkness. The chittering grows louder, coming from multiple sources. Then, through the moonlit gaps in the canopy, they appear.

  Lanky, humanoid figures with elongated limbs and twitching, insect-like movements crawl from the shadows. Their bodies are partially decayed, as if they were once human but had begun to twist into something unnatural. Their heads jerk with erratic twitches, mandible-like jaws clicking together in an eerie rhythm. A faint, sickly-green glow emanates from deep within their exposed ribcages.

  There are three of them, moving in a predatory, almost coordinated manner.

  One of the creatures suddenly lunges forward, its claws raised!

  Roll initiative!

  I said:

  Greg's initiative roll is a 13 +2 modifier = 15

  ChatGPT said:

  Initiative Order:

  ???: 18

  Greg: 15

  Trevor: 14

  Aren: 12

  Sienna: 11

  Vannis: 6

  One of the twisted humanoid creatures moves first, darting unnaturally fast toward Greg!

  Its claws slash outward, trying to rip into him!

  Attack Roll: 16 + 3 = 19 (Hit!)

  Damage: 6 slashing damage

  The creature's claws carve into Greg’s arm, but its touch is worse—an unnatural cold spreads where it struck, numbing his muscles slightly.

  Now it’s Greg’s turn!

  I said:

  Greg will use his bonus action to Rage, hoping its adrenaline boost will counteract the ill effect from the struck he took. Then he will re-position himself around this strange undead creature, pivoting around any counterattack range, then take his own attack with his greataxe.

  Hoping this will allow his flank guards to move in and better aim their attacks with advantage.

  ChatGPT said:

  Greg lets out a deep, guttural roar as his Rage takes hold, his muscles tightening and senses sharpening. The pain from the enemy’s strike dulls under the surge of battle fury.

  He then shifts his footing, circling around the shadowy figure with careful yet aggressive movements, ensuring that Trevor and Aren can take advantage of an opening when they move in.

  Now, roll Greg’s attack with his greataxe!

  I said:

  Roll is an 18, then adding modifiers makes it a 24 to hit!

  ChatGPT said:

  That’s a solid hit! Greg's greataxe finds its mark, cleaving into the shadowy, undead form with brutal precision. Roll for damage! Since he's raging, don't forget to add the extra +2 Rage damage to the total.

  I said:

  roll is a 2, +4 str +2 rage = 8 total in slashing (if that matters)

  ChatGPT said:

  Greg's greataxe bites deep, but the strange undead form barely reacts beyond a grotesque twitch. The slash carves through its decayed flesh, exposing a sickly green glow pulsing from within its bones—a telltale sign of the same necrotic magic that had animated the dire wolf.

  The creature staggers slightly, but remains standing, its dead eyes locked onto Greg with unnatural hatred.

  Trevor and Aren seize the moment, flanking the strange undead creature as Greg’s brutal strike opens its defenses.

  Trevor lunges forward, stabbing his spear with precision.

  Attack Roll: 17 + 4 = 21 (Hit!)

  Damage Roll: 6 + 2 = 8 piercing damage

  The spearhead punches through the undead’s ribs, but just like with Greg’s attack, the creature barely flinches, though the green light within flickers slightly.

  Aren follows up, gripping his quarterstaff tightly as he aims for the head of his undead target.

  Attack Roll: 14 + 5 = 19 (Hit!)

  Damage Roll: 4 + 3 = 7 bludgeoning damage

  The staff caves into the creature’s head, but as he pulls it away, the wound closes unnaturally fast, as if something inside is knitting the flesh back together.

  The undead still stands, wounded but showing unnatural resilience.

  Next: Enemy's Turn!

  The strange undead lunges wildly at Greg, still seeing him as the biggest threat.

  Attack Roll: 15 + 4 = 19 (Hit!)

  Its rotting claws tear across Greg’s torso, the impact unnaturally heavy for such a decayed thing.

  Damage Roll: 7 slashing, reduced to 3 due to Greg’s Rage.

  As the claws connect, a sickly chill spreads through Greg’s body, as if something beyond the physical wound is trying to drag the life from him.

  The creature stays in the fight, still unnervingly silent.

  Sienna’s Turn Next!

  (She can take a ranged shot or reposition with Vannis—what’s the plan?)

  I said:

  (technically she can do both. characters in the DnD 5e system get a movement, action, bonus action, and reaction. there is also a free action rule to allow minor interactions with say an unlocked door, or dropping a weapon, and some homebrew like donning or doffing a shield.)

  But if asked, I (the player) would prefer if Sienna angles Vannis further back but while staying within her minimum longbow range as she uses her ranger skills to attack from a distance.

  ChatGPT said:

  (Sounds good! And yeah, totally aware of the action economy—just wanted to check if you wanted her focusing purely on positioning or also attacking.)

  Sienna’s Turn

  She ushers Vannis further back, keeping him behind the thickest trees for cover, while nocking an arrow and drawing her longbow in one fluid motion.

  Attack Roll: 13 + 5 = 18 (Hit!)

  Damage Roll: 6 + 3 = 9 piercing damage

  The arrow sinks deep into the creature’s shoulder, piercing through rotting muscle. The green glow within it dims for a brief second, but then pulses brighter, almost like it’s fighting against whatever force is trying to destroy it.

  Vannis, still looking half-dazed from being woken up, keeps his head down, clearly rattled but compliant.

  Top of the Round – Greg’s Turn!

  The undead is badly injured but still fighting—what’s the plan?

  I said:

  Seeing it barely hanging on, Greg will attempt to finish this one off before the other two rush into the fray.

  (Does this attack have advantage?)

  ChatGPT said:

  Yes! Thanks to your earlier flanking maneuver with Trevor and Aren, you have advantage on this attack.

  Roll twice and take the higher result!

  I said:

  rolls are a 5 and 11, 11 +mods = 17 to hit

  ChatGPT said:

  That hits! Roll for damage!

  I said:

  better damage roll this time, 11 +str +rage = 17 slashing

  ChatGPT said:

  Greg’s greataxe cleaves through the strange undead creature, its unnatural form crumpling as the sickly green glow in its eyes flickers and fades. The creature lets out a horrible, breathy gurgle before it collapses into the underbrush, its twisted, sinewy body going still.

  One down. Two to go.

  Trevor and Aren shift their stances, readying for the incoming attackers, while Sienna keeps her bow trained, waiting for a clear shot.

  The two remaining figures begin to advance, their movements jittery and unnatural, as if something is pulling them forward rather than them walking of their own will.

  It is now the enemies' turn...

  The two remaining creatures lurch forward, their pale, twisted bodies illuminated faintly by the moonlight as they move toward the party.

  First Undead Creature (Attacking Greg)

  Seeing its fallen comrade, the first of the two remaining creatures lunges at Greg, its clawed fingers slashing forward with an unnatural, jerking motion.

  Attack Roll: 14 + 4 = 18

  (Greg’s AC is 14, so it hits.)

  The claws rake across Greg’s side, but his raging endurance blunts the worst of the pain.

  Damage Roll: 8 slashing damage, reduced to 4 due to Greg’s Rage resistance.

  Second Undead Creature (Attacking Aren)

  The second creature zeroes in on Aren, trying to strike the young fighter before he can properly react.

  Attack Roll: 10 + 4 = 14

  (Aren’s AC is 16—Miss!)

  Aren twists his body just in time, the creature’s claws swiping at empty air as he brings his sword up defensively.

  End of Enemy Turn.

  Trevor and Aren are up next, ready to counterattack.

  Trevor sees the opening and moves swiftly to flank the undead attacking Aren, his sword glinting as he strikes.

  Trevor’s Attack (Advantage from flanking)

  Roll 1: 12 + 5 = 17

  Roll 2: 7 + 5 = 12

  (17 Hits!)

  Damage Roll: 6 + 3 = 9 piercing damage

  Trevor’s spear pierces through the creature’s side, causing a spray of dark ichor to splash onto the forest floor. The undead recoils, but it’s still standing.

  Seeing his chance, Aren follows up with his own strike, coordinating with Trevor.

  Aren’s Attack (Advantage from flanking)

  Roll 1: 15 + 5 = 20

  Roll 2: 13 + 5 = 18

  (20 Hits!)

  Damage Roll: 5 + 3 = 8 bludgeoning damage

  With a heavy blow, Aren bashes his quarterstaff deep into the creature’s chest. It lets out a sickening, gurgling hiss before collapsing onto the ground, unmoving.

  One undead remains, still locked in combat with Greg!

  Sienna’s Attack

  Sienna takes a steady breath, nocking an arrow and taking aim at the last undead engaged with Greg.

  Attack Roll: 14 + 6 = 20 (Hits!)

  Damage Roll: 6 + 4 = 10 piercing damage

  The arrow soars through the air, piercing clean through the undead’s shoulder, but it still stands, though visibly staggering from its many wounds.

  The last undead now turns its attention fully on Greg, its movements erratic and aggressive.

  With a guttural snarl, the undead lunges at Greg with unnatural speed.

  Attack Roll: 16 + 4 = 20 (Hits!)

  Damage Roll: 7 + 2 = 9 slashing damage

  (Reduced to 4 because of Rage!)

  Its claws rake across Greg’s arm, but the half-orc shrugs off the worst of the pain, his rage dulling the impact.

  Your turn! Greg can now finish this last undead off!

  I said:

  (Also as future reference, note that while not officially in the turn order, Vannis could be taking a Dodge action as a precaution, like he is narratively huddled or looking for a hidden attacker.)

  ChatGPT said:

  (Good call! I'll keep that in mind for Vannis’ actions moving forward.)

  With the last undead staggering but still feral with unnatural malice, Greg tightens his grip on his greataxe. Now’s the time to end this fight before more threats reveal themselves.

  Greg’s Turn – Attack Roll

  Rolling… 19 + 6 = 25 to hit! (Definite hit!)

  Damage Roll

  Rolling… 9 + 4 + 2 = 15 slashing damage!

  The Final Blow

  With a mighty cleave, Greg’s greataxe sinks deep into the creature’s torso, ripping through bone and sinew. A horrific gurgle escapes its throat before its limbs go limp, its body collapsing into the dirt in a grotesque heap.

  The battle is over.

  For a moment, silence fills the clearing, the only sound being your own heavy breathing and the rustling of leaves in the nighttime breeze.

  But that unnatural feeling Greg sensed earlier still lingers—the air remains stiflingly tense.

  What does Greg do next?

  I said:

  "I'm so sorry about that guys," Greg gasps out as his Rage subsides. And he winces as the former pains overcome the heat of the moment.

  ChatGPT said:

  Aren groans, rubbing at his bruised ribs. “No need to apologize, Greg. You didn’t bring those things down on us.”

  Trevor exhales, lowering his blade. “Yeah, but I won’t say no to a moment to breathe.” He eyes the remains of the creatures warily. “What the hell were those things?”

  Sienna still has her bow half-drawn, scanning the woods with sharp eyes. “I don’t know, but something still feels wrong.”

  Vannis, pale and shaken, steps forward cautiously. “We should move. Now. If there are more of them, I’d rather not still be standing in the aftermath of this mess when they arrive.”

  Greg’s own instincts scream that this fight wasn’t the end of it—something still lurks out there in the darkness.

  What’s the call? Push forward immediately, take a moment to assess the bodies, or do something else?

  I said:

  "We should find a safer spot to take a quick breather. Then we'll push on until we reach Ormstead. I think it no longer safe to make any camps, and as ill-prepared as we are."

  ChatGPT said:

  Sienna nods in agreement, scanning the surrounding trees. “I’ll scout ahead a little. See if I can find somewhere defensible for a short rest.”

  Trevor wipes his blade clean and sheathes it. “A breather sounds good, but let’s make it quick. If more of those things are out here, I’d rather not give them time to catch up.”

  Aren exhales sharply, clearly relieved. “Agreed. I can still fight, but I’d rather not do it while barely standing.”

  Vannis, still shaken, doesn’t protest. He simply nods and follows along, keeping close to Sienna as she scouts.

  After a tense few minutes of searching, Sienna leads the group to a small, rocky overhang nestled between thick trees—a natural barrier on three sides, with just enough space to huddle without being easily spotted. It isn’t much, but it’s better than nothing.

  Do you take the full hour for a short rest, or just a brief stop before pushing on?

  I said:

  (Full hour for short rest)

  Since Greg is the only one who took damage - 17 in total by my count - so he will expend 2 hit dice to regain some health.

  rolling 2d12 then add +4 for the con bonus

  rolled a 5, 7, that's 12 +4 = 16 HP restored

  (feel free to correct me if I am wrong)

  ChatGPT said:

  (Your math checks out! Greg is now at 40/41 HP after the short rest.)

  The group settles in, each taking turns keeping watch while the others catch their breath. The night air is cool and damp, but the overhang shields them from the worst of it.

  Greg feels the lingering sting of his wounds fade as he focuses on his breathing, his body naturally knitting itself back together. The aches remain, but he’s in fighting shape again.

  Sienna sharpens her blades quietly, while Trevor and Aren sit with their backs to the rocks, keeping an ear out for anything unusual. Vannis, for once, doesn’t complain—he just stares at the forest with wary eyes.

  An hour passes without incident.

  Sienna is the first to break the silence. “That thing… those things. Whatever they were, they weren’t just undead.” She glances at Greg. “You felt it too, didn’t you? Something… wrong.”

  Aren nods. “I’ve seen plenty of shambling corpses before, but these felt different. More… aware.”

  Vannis clears his throat. “Do you think we should be worried about Ormstead? If whatever this is reaches a town…”

  Greg, now feeling more like himself, has a choice—does he reassure them, share his suspicions, or focus purely on getting back on the road?

  I said:

  "Yes, they feel almost predatory. Most undead are mindless creatures ... but those that are able to overcome that hurdle can turn into significant threats." Those listening realize the implications of what Greg is implying. Intelligent undead tend to target those still living. Many times seeing them in a capacity to raise their own numbers.

  ChatGPT said:

  A somber quiet settles over the group. Even Vannis, usually full of bravado and complaints, seems to grasp the weight of Greg’s words.

  Sienna tightens her grip on her whetstone. “If that’s the case… then this wasn’t just some wandering pack of undead.” Her voice is low, thoughtful. “They were hunting. And that means there’s a reason. Either for us specifically… or because something is driving them.”

  Trevor rubs his face, exhausted. “I hate everything about that.”

  Aren exhales sharply. “So what’s the plan? Do we keep moving or try to track them back to wherever they came from?”

  Vannis snaps his fingers. “Absolutely not! We are not going out of our way to find more of those things. We keep going to Ormstead and warn them before we get killed!”

  The merchant’s tone is firm, but there’s a flicker of fear behind his eyes.

  Greg, as the most battle-tested among them, knows they have a choice:

  Track the undead: Risky, but they might learn more about the nature of this threat.

  Push to Ormstead: They could cover good ground before sunrise, but there’s no telling if they’ll encounter more danger on the road.

  All eyes are on Greg. What’s the call?

  I said:

  "We need to push to Ormstead. I for one, lack the confidence we can triumph against whatever source is the root of this problem. Besides we are already riddled with wounds and won't likely be able to recover our full strength while in these damned woods."

  "But should we make it to town," and here Greg goes over their options as a bullet-point method. Something he'd seen many a captain he served had done.

  "We can raise the alarm, rest up, gather some supplies, and more so ... improve our numbers so we aren't four or five facing an entire undead horde."

  ChatGPT said:

  Sienna nods in agreement, her expression still troubled but resolute. “That’s the smart play. Whatever this is, Ormstead needs to know.”

  Trevor groans as he pushes himself to his feet. “Much as I hate the idea of walking any more tonight, I’d rather be tired than dead.”

  Aren gives one last wary glance at the darkened forest before nodding. “Then let’s not waste any more time.”

  Vannis, relieved that no one suggested anything suicidal, stands and dusts himself off. “Finally, some sense! Let’s get moving before something else decides we look like a fine meal.”

  With that, the group quickly gathers their things and presses on.

  Greg’s Leadership Holds Firm

  The journey continues into the dead of night, every shadow a potential threat, but with Greg leading the march, the group stays focused. The fatigue from their earlier battle weighs heavy, but the thought of reaching Ormstead keeps them going.

  Hours pass. The first hints of dawn creep over the horizon, the sky a muted purple, when finally…

  A break in the trees.

  A road.

  And in the far distance, nestled against rolling hills, Ormstead.

  Even from here, Greg can make out its wooden palisade, the faint flicker of lanterns, and the distant howl of a watchman calling the early morning guard change. They made it.

  But now the real challenge begins.

  Next Steps:

  How do you approach Ormstead?

  Do you march straight to the gates, or send someone ahead?

  What’s your plan for warning them?

  I said:

  we make our way forward, a simple approach

  ChatGPT said:

  After what feels like an eternity pushing through the oppressive woodland, the first hints of dawn start to break through the treetops. The air remains eerily still, but the signs of civilization begin to emerge—worn wagon tracks in the dirt, the occasional wooden marker carved with a simple sigil, and, finally, the unmistakable scent of burning wood from distant chimneys.

  As you crest a gentle rise in the road, the sight of Ormstead finally comes into view. It’s a modest settlement, ringed by a wooden palisade reinforced with sharpened logs. The town is nestled against a shallow river, a small wooden bridge leading up to its main gate. A watchtower stands above the entrance, where a pair of guards, clad in mismatched armor, keep a lazy vigil.

  As you and your companions approach, one of the guards perks up, rubbing sleep from his eyes before nudging the other. They exchange a few words before calling down, "Hail, travelers! State your business in Ormstead!"

  Vannis, his cloak pulled tightly around him, glances at you, seemingly expecting you to handle introductions. Sienna keeps a cautious eye on the woods behind, while Trevor and Aren look visibly relieved at finally reaching their destination.

  What does Greg say?

  I said:

  "Don't be too candid now," Greg chides to Vannis, a little upset the merchant lord is pushing introductions onto his plate. Wasn't this suppose to be his destination, but Greg keeps that complaint to himself. He never felt his mug was best thing to start off one of these meet and greets.

  But Greg does take in a deep breath to address-

  "Hail friends. We are but a small company seeking refuge for the day after a night toiled in those woods there." And the half-orc thumbs the distance behind them.

  "Might we be granted entry," before putting an arm around Vannis to encourage him forward.

  "We are also accompanying Lord Vannis here. You can say his caravan ran into tough spot on the road here, but we managed to atleast get him safely to its destination."

  ChatGPT said:

  The guards exchange looks at the mention of "Lord Vannis," their previously disinterested expressions shifting to something between curiosity and skepticism. One of them, a burly man with a patchy beard, leans on his spear and calls down, "Lord Vannis, eh? Fancy title for a man travelin’ with mercs instead of an escort."

  Vannis sighs, adjusting his cloak with a flick of his wrist before stepping forward. "That is Merchant-Lord Vannis of Daggerford, if you please. I was traveling with an escort, but unfortunate circumstances forced me to rely on this capable band instead." His voice is smooth but carries an edge, as if he's had to correct people on this distinction before.

  The other guard, a younger fellow with a dented helmet too large for his head, peers down at Greg and the others. "If what you're sayin' is true, then where's the rest of his caravan? Last I heard, he was coming with a proper train of goods."

  Vannis hesitates just slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line before he recovers. "There were… complications. Bandits, undead—take your pick. We were lucky to make it here at all. Now, if you would kindly open the gate?"

  The two guards whisper to each other for a moment before the older one shrugs. "Alright, alright. We ain't in the business of turnin' folk away who ain't causing trouble." He gives a nod to the other guard, who disappears into the tower. Moments later, the heavy wooden gates creak open just wide enough to let the group pass through.

  "Welcome to Ormstead," the older guard grumbles as you step inside. "You want rest, you’ll be wantin’ the Rusty Stag. Just keep whatever trouble you found on the road outside our walls, aye?"

  Inside, Ormstead is a humble but sturdy-looking settlement. Thatched-roof homes line the muddy main road, and a few townsfolk are already stirring despite the early hour. The scent of fresh bread and woodsmoke lingers in the crisp morning air.

  Vannis rolls his shoulders, exhaling sharply. "Finally, some semblance of civilization. Now, I suggest we find lodging and make inquiries about… well, everything." He glances at Greg. "Unless you have other priorities?"

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  I said:

  Greg is the last to pass through the entryway, making sure his company is safely through, before turning back to the two guards.

  "He wasn't joking about the bandits and undead you know. In my short foray there, I've already had my fill of both. Between a zombied dire wolf and big dead tree, strange things are afoot. Not to mention the freaky undead humans," for a lack of better description, "that we had to fight off but a day's travel here." Greg here offers the strange stone collar as proof.

  Greg also details to the guards about the bandit camp they rescued Vannis from, while stating they were likely not the only bandits holed up there.

  "... look I know it sounds a bit much and you can believe me or not on this, but I'd raise whatever alarm you got in this town, if I were you," Greg finishes with a tap on his foot, itching to move on.

  "We'll be needing some rest, so we'll head off to that Rusty Stag place to put our feet up. But I'll be more than happy to report this to your seniors after some good shut eye."

  Greg pauses here to gauge their response.

  ChatGPT said:

  The two guards glance at each other, their initial skepticism wavering as Greg lays out his grim report. The younger one, helmet still slightly askew, gulps audibly at the mention of the undead dire wolf and strange creatures.

  The older guard, however, just scowls deeper, rubbing a hand over his stubbled jaw. “Zombied dire wolves… big dead trees? Hells…” He takes the stone collar from Greg, turning it over in his hands with a frown. “Ain’t seen work like this before.”

  At the mention of bandits still holed up in the woods, he stiffens. “Damn it all. We’ve had trouble with ‘em before, but if they’re tangled up in this—” He stops short, weighing his next words.

  Finally, he gestures toward the town center. “Captain Eldrick should hear this. You get your rest at the Stag, but when you’re fit, go see him at the barracks—big stone building near the well, can’t miss it. If what you’re sayin’ is true, we’ll need to do somethin’ quick.”

  The younger guard nods quickly, clearly rattled. “I’ll go tell the watch,” he says, jogging off toward a nearby tower.

  The older guard hands the stone collar back to Greg, eyes narrowing. “Best keep that. If it’s got some foul magic on it, I ain’t touchin’ it longer than I have to.”

  He steps back, nodding toward the road. “Get your rest, merc. Sounds like you earned it.”

  I said:

  "Many thanks," and Greg will rejoin with the others to head off to the inn.

  ChatGPT said:

  The streets of Ormstead are dimly lit by lanterns hanging from sturdy wooden posts, casting a warm glow against the cobblestone roads. Though late, a few townsfolk still linger, some unloading carts near the marketplace while others chatter outside homes and taverns. A faint scent of roasted meat and fresh bread drifts through the cool night air—perhaps from the very place Greg and the others are headed.

  The Rusty Stag is a modest but well-kept inn, its sign carved with an elegant image of a stag head wearing a crown as a necklace. A few horses are tied outside, and warm light spills through the windows. The door creaks open as Greg and the party step inside.

  The common room is lively but not rowdy, with a handful of patrons nursing drinks or engaged in quiet conversation. A stout woman with graying auburn hair stands behind the counter, wiping a mug with a practiced ease. As she sees the group enter, her sharp hazel eyes scan over them—lingering on their travel-worn state.

  "Newcomers, huh?" she muses, setting the mug down. "And by the looks of you, not just passing through for a leisurely visit. What’s your business?"

  I said:

  "Beds please," comes Greg's voice strained from travel and with the promise of rest so near.

  "How much for a room, or two."

  ChatGPT said:

  The innkeeper gives Greg a once-over, noting the exhaustion in his voice and the wear on his companions. "You lot look like you've been through the wringer," she remarks, setting the mug aside.

  "Rooms go for five silver a night. Two rooms for the lot of you should do fine—unless Lord Fancy over there needs his own space." She gestures toward Vannis with a smirk.

  Vannis sighs, clearly too tired to argue. "Two rooms will do." He reaches into his coin pouch and produces a gold piece, sliding it across the counter. "For the rooms, and whatever warm meal you might have left this late."

  The innkeeper nods, taking the coin and tucking it away. "Stew's still hot, and I've got fresh bread to go with it. I’ll have it brought up to your rooms."

  She grabs two keys from behind the counter and slides them forward. "Up the stairs, second and third doors on the right. Keep the ruckus down if you please—I like my customers breathing when they wake up."

  Greg can feel the weight of travel lifting slightly at the prospect of rest. The air inside the inn is warm, the scent of food inviting, and the chairs by the hearth look mighty tempting.

  I said:

  Greg offers to share a room with Sienna, promising he's too tired to try anything funny. While angling the other three to share the second room, considering they've been longer travel mates.

  (yes, this is a bit of a joke with Greg trying to get Sienna in his room, but he's also being bluntly honest that she can trust him on this, for this night anyways)

  As they pass up the stairs to settle in, Greg can't help but turn to Vannis, "I can trust you won't try to jilt us out of payment. I mean I appreciate the room and all ..." too tired to better frame his worry.

  ChatGPT said:

  Vannis exhales sharply through his nose, giving Greg a tired but amused glance. "I gave my word, didn't I? You’ll be paid in full once I’ve settled my affairs here." He rubs his temple. "Frankly, after all we've been through, I think you’ve earned more than just coin. But let’s talk business after we’ve all had a proper rest, hmm?"

  Greg catches a smirk from Trevor, who mutters just loud enough for Sienna to hear, "Bold move, Greg." She only shakes her head with a half-smile, snatching the key before he can, clearly making a point that she is the one in control of this arrangement.

  Aren, meanwhile, stifles a chuckle and tosses his pack onto the other bed in their room, already making himself comfortable.

  As Greg and Sienna step into their shared room, she gives him a sidelong glance. "If you snore like a dying mule, I’m kicking you to the floor," she warns, though there’s a trace of amusement in her tone.

  With that, the warmth of the inn, the promise of a real bed, and the sheer exhaustion of the past few days quickly take over. For now, at least, the group has found a brief respite.

  I said:

  "Noted," and Greg plops down on the bed - I imagine comically face first - and quickly drifts away into a peaceful sleep.

  (I am aiming for the party to try and gain a long rest here)

  ChatGPT said:

  The rest is deep and well-earned. Greg, true to his word, is out cold the moment he hits the mattress, his exhaustion overpowering even the firmest of beds. Sienna, after a wary glance, takes the other side of the room and eventually drifts off as well.

  Across the hall, Trevor and Aren collapse into sleep, while Vannis—despite his noble upbringing—rests like a man who has narrowly escaped death one too many times.

  The hours pass in blissful silence, the warmth of the inn a stark contrast to the dangers of the wild. Eventually, the afternoon sun dips lower in the sky, casting long golden streaks through the windows. The sounds of the town bustling with activity drift in—merchants calling out deals, blacksmiths hammering away, and the scent of cooking food wafting through the inn.

  The party awakens, fully restored from their long rest—their wounds healed, their strength returned.

  With plenty of daylight left, the next step is up to them.

  I said:

  Greg awakens to the soft feel of a mattress beneath him. However the smile that creeps on his face is seeing the ranger gal sleeping in a relaxed state in the same room. But the half-orc has enough control to hold back his chuckle and enough honor to respect her warrior-like presence.

  Afterall, she let him have the bed. He had fully expected to wake up back on the floor.

  As Greg gets up, his stomach starts to grumble. While his mind is refreshed, his stomach is not. And it demands more than rations and berries he'd been filling it for days prior.

  (Greg will go downstairs to get himself a meal, or eat some of the food had it been sent up by the tavernkeeper.)

  ChatGPT said:

  As Greg sits up, his joints cracking from the long-needed rest, his ears pick up the muffled sounds of the inn below—chatter, clinking mugs, and the occasional burst of laughter. The scent of roasted meat, fresh bread, and a hint of ale drifts into the room, a stark contrast to the stale rations and berries he had survived on for days. His stomach protests loudly, urging him to act.

  Looking over, he sees that Sienna is still resting, her posture relaxed, though her bow remains within reach. It’s rare to see a hardened ranger truly at ease, but even warriors need their moments of peace. Best not to wake her—she earned the rest as much as he did.

  Stepping lightly, Greg makes his way downstairs to find a hot meal and perhaps some information on what’s been happening in Ormstead.

  Down in the common room, the innkeeper, a broad-shouldered woman with greying hair and an apron dusted with flour, is busy tending to customers. She notices Greg and waves him over.

  "Ah, finally awake, are ya? Your lot slept like the dead. Thought about waking you, but figured you needed it. Got a plate ready—roast venison, potatoes, and fresh bread. Five copper, or you can put it on that merchant’s tab if he’s still feeling generous."

  She smirks, setting down a steaming plate of food before him.

  Greg can see a few patrons nearby, including a couple of locals chatting over drinks, and what looks to be a small group of guards having their own meal. If he wants, he could listen in or strike up a conversation while he eats.

  I said:

  "Nah, I got this one," as Greg pulls out a silver coin to give.

  "But do bring up one of those plates to the lady still resting. Don't want to bother her coming down just to take in a meal with all these hooligans."

  Afterwards, Greg will gladly partake in this hot meal while seeing if his ears can pick up anything worth hearing.

  (passive Perception is 12)

  ChatGPT said:

  The innkeeper grins, pocketing the silver and giving Greg a nod of approval.

  "A proper gentleman, eh? I’ll have a plate sent up soon as it’s ready. She’ll eat well, no worries there."

  Greg digs into his meal, savoring every bite of the seasoned venison and buttery potatoes, a far cry from the dried rations of the road. The bread is warm and fresh, perfect for soaking up the juices.

  As he eats, he listens in on the tavern chatter. Most of it is the usual gossip of small-town folk—who owes who money, which farmer’s livestock went wandering—but a few things stand out:

  A group of guards are discussing increased patrols at night, though they seem unsure if it's because of actual threats or just paranoia.

  "The captain's got us doubling shifts, but I've yet to see anything myself."

  "Aye, but them woods ain't right. I hear things at night. Some folks claim to see figures lurking just outside the torchlight."

  A pair of traders are whispering about missing caravans on the road leading north.

  "Three wagons gone missing in the last fortnight. No wreckage, no bodies, just gone."

  "Think it's bandits?"

  "Doubt it. Bandits leave bodies, even if they loot 'em."

  A local farmer is drunkenly complaining about his crops.

  "I tell ya, it ain't natural! The soil ain't holdin' right—crops witherin’ before they can grow! And I ain't the only one!"

  While none of this directly mentions the undead Greg and his group encountered, it’s clear that Ormstead is dealing with strange happenings beyond just the usual troubles of a frontier town.

  I said:

  Greg takes in all he heard as he downs his late bite. He brings the now emptied plate back to the innkeeper where her hazel eyes can only spot bits of food particles are all that remains.

  "Thank you madam, it quite hit the spot." Greg pauses to see if she will respond back.

  ChatGPT said:

  The innkeeper, wiping down the counter, gives Greg a knowing grin as she takes the plate.

  "Good to hear. A man with an appetite like yours must be a hard worker—or a hard fighter." She eyes him up and down, clearly noticing the mercenary build and the weapons at his side.

  "Y’know, you and your friends came in at an interesting time." She leans in slightly, her tone more conversational than secretive.

  "Folk around here been uneasy. Some say it's just bad luck—crops failing, merchants disappearing, folk seeing shadows where they shouldn't. But I know old trouble when I see it. And this? This feels like trouble."

  She glances toward the stairs where Sienna is still resting, then back to Greg.

  "You lot planning to stay long? Something tells me you ain’t just passing through."

  I said:

  Greg looks around to see if they aren't being watched. Perception check is a 7 total (ugh).

  He takes a seat at the bar, leaning in as to not being overheard to gossip back.

  "Hopefully not too long. But, well the folk aren't wrong though. 'fraid we ran into much of that bad luck. Can't say I saw the crops failing but I had stumbled into a missing caravan. And those shadows aren't just shadows," the half-orc leaves that part rather ominously.

  "If I'd were you ... I'd keep to the safety of the town walls, for the present time being."

  ChatGPT said:

  The innkeeper’s expression hardens slightly, her hands pausing in their work as she takes in Greg’s words. She gives a slow, knowing nod.

  "I see. That bad, huh?" Her voice is quieter now, laced with a seriousness that suggests she’s not just brushing off his warning.

  She leans on the counter, eyes flicking toward the doorway and windows, as if suddenly feeling less secure despite the town's walls.

  "If you say so, I’ll take it to heart. And I’ll make sure others do, too." She straightens up, taking the plate back to the kitchen. "Folk ‘round here don’t like stirring trouble when they don’t have to, but if something’s out there, better to be wary than to be caught sleeping."

  As she disappears into the back for a moment, Greg is left with his thoughts—and the sounds of the muttering townsfolk still filling the inn. A few groups are speaking in hushed voices, some glancing toward the door as if expecting something... or someone.

  I said:

  (Greg will wait here in the tavern floor until he is joined by the rest of the company he came to Ormstead with.)

  ChatGPT said:

  As Greg sits in the tavern, nursing the last remnants of his drink, the Rusty Stag remains a steady hum of activity. A few locals filter in and out, keeping to themselves as they chat in hushed voices or cast wary glances toward the windows. The air smells of warm bread, spiced stew, and the faint bitterness of ale.

  Before long, the first of his company to appear is Trevor, trudging down the stairs with a drowsy expression, rubbing sleep from his eyes. His armor is strapped loosely, and his sword belt hangs at an angle. He grunts a greeting as he settles onto a stool beside Greg.

  "Didn't think I'd wake up to the smell of something decent," Trevor mutters, waving over the innkeeper for a plate of food. "Slept better than I have in weeks, I’ll give this place that much." He then tilts his head toward Greg. "Figure out anything while we were down for the count?"

  A few moments later, Aren appears, looking far more awake. He wears a clean tunic over his chain shirt, his usual travel gear left behind in the room. He nods to Greg and Trevor before settling in with his own meal.

  Finally, Sienna descends the stairs, stretching her arms over her head as she approaches the table. "I got my lunch delivered," she remarks with a slight smirk in Greg’s direction. "Guess I have you to thank for that?" She slides into a chair, her pearly teeth biting into a piece of toasted bread. "So, what’s the plan?"

  Only Vannis remains absent, though given the merchant lord’s knack for taking his time, that’s hardly surprising.

  I said:

  "You're lucky to be still waking up at all," the barbarian would first joke to Trevor at how the two of them first met.

  And as Trevor takes a seat at the bar next to Greg, the half-orc will answer his question in what he overheard during his meal earlier, "Only as much as the townfolk here have also been noticing some of the problems we faced in the forest, inching closer to their walls."

  Greg will tell Sienna when she comes down, "Figured you'd want to enjoy a decent meal in private. Hope I didn't snore too much," giving her nod and a smile that he hoped didn't look too toothy.

  After the four leave the bar to take a seating at a more secluded booth on the tavern floor, I picture a few awkward minutes of silence would pass before Greg addresses "the plan".

  "Well how's our lord doing," the half-orc addressing Aren in particular on how he's holding up.

  (if you can, try to write the above as a narrative telling, as it would happen over a longer course of actions in real time)

  ChatGPT said:

  As the warm midday light filtered in through the wooden shutters of the Rusty Stag, the scent of roasted meats and fresh bread lingered in the air. The tavern floor was abuzz with the murmurs of weary farmers and cautious travelers, all speaking in hushed tones about the troubles looming beyond the safety of Ormstead’s walls.

  Greg, already seated at the bar, glanced up as Trevor slid into the seat beside him. The rogue, still rubbing sleep from his eyes, offered a wry smirk.

  "You look like you actually slept well," he mused, stretching his arms.

  Greg let out a low chuckle, his tusked grin creeping up. "You're lucky to still be waking up at all," he jabbed back, referencing their rather unceremonious introduction days prior.

  Trevor huffed a laugh before signaling for something to eat. “So, what’s the word around here?”

  Greg leaned in slightly, keeping his voice low as he relayed what he had overheard—how the folk of Ormstead had begun noticing strange happenings creeping closer. Whispers of unnatural shadows moving at the edges of their fields, of harvests failing, and of the lingering unease that something just beyond the treeline was watching.

  Trevor exhaled, shaking his head. “Sounds like we weren’t just unlucky on the road, then.”

  A few moments later, Sienna descended the stairs, her steps light but purposeful. The ranger had her hair pulled back in a loose tail, her expression unreadable as she approached. Greg met her gaze and gave a small nod.

  "Figured you’d want to enjoy a decent meal in private," he remarked, motioning to her empty plate that had since been cleared away by the innkeeper. "Hope I didn’t snore too much."

  Sienna arched a brow but gave a faint smirk. “Nothing I couldn’t tune out,” she replied, settling in beside the two of them.

  Once Aren joined them, the group migrated to a more secluded booth at the back of the tavern. The din of conversation around them faded slightly, giving them a moment of quiet amidst the low flickering of lanterns. For a few minutes, no one spoke—each simply nursing a drink, perhaps weighing the weight of the past few days against the uncertain future ahead.

  Greg eventually broke the silence. He leaned forward slightly, resting his arms against the table, his sharp gaze turning to Aren.

  "Well, how’s our lord doing?" he asked, voice tinged with both concern and lingering skepticism.

  Aren leans forward slightly, resting his arms on the table. “Vannis is still up in the room. He’s resting, but I doubt he’s sleeping. Probably thinking over his next move.” He exhales. “He hasn’t said much about what he plans to do yet, but I don’t think he’s in a hurry to leave town.”

  Trevor scoffs. “Figures. He strikes me as the type who’d rather wait until it’s safe before making any moves.”

  Sienna nods but keeps quiet, focused on finishing her meal.

  Greg, the floor is yours to respond.

  I said:

  "Well I guess we can brainstorm without him, for now anyways," Greg bites back a retort about - well what he feels - is his hard earned reward. But the others gathered could see that was the first thing on his mind.

  "Anyways, as I was telling Trevor. I overheard a few things a while ago. Apparently all the strange things we saw in the forest are being spotted out here as well. Though they tend to just keep out of sight to arouse deeper suspicion."

  "Of course, that could just be a matter of luck," Greg points out at the end.

  ChatGPT said:

  Aren strokes his chin, considering Greg’s words. “That’s troubling… If whatever’s behind this is inching closer to town, it means it’s not just some isolated curse rotting away in the woods. It’s spreading.”

  Trevor huffs. “Yeah, and we already know it’s smart. Those things we fought weren’t just wandering corpses. They were hunting.”

  Sienna finally speaks up, setting down her fork. “Then we need to figure out where it’s coming from. If we wait too long, Ormstead could be overrun before we even make a move.” She looks at Greg. “Any rumors on where people have seen these things the most?”

  I said:

  (would Greg have overheard this?)

  ChatGPT said:

  (Greg didn't hear anything specific about a source or central location—just that people have spotted figures lurking beyond the fields at night and that the crops have been failing. If he wants more details, he might need to ask around or check in with someone who might have more authority, like the town guard or a local leader.)

  I said:

  Greg racks his thoughts on those particular rumors.

  "Only that the shadows lurk beyond the fields at night. And something about crops turning bad."

  ChatGPT said:

  Sienna drums her fingers against the wooden table, her gaze drifting toward the nearest window. "Undead don't eat crops," she muses aloud. "So if something's rotting the fields, either there's a curse at work, or something else is meddling with the land."

  Aren sighs, rubbing his temple. "If the fields keep failing, the town won't last long. Either they’ll starve, or they'll be forced to leave." He shakes his head. "If this problem started recently, then something—or someone—has brought it here."

  Trevor crosses his arms. "And if it’s tied to those undead we fought, then we need to find out where they’re coming from." He glances at Greg. "I don’t suppose we know anyone who’d have more insight? Town guard, a priest, maybe even an old hermit who rants about doom?"

  I said:

  "Well I think we both know where this likely source is," Greg looks very pointedly at Trevor and Sienna. The thoughts of the big dead tree come to mind. Aren and Vannis would have also heard about this, secondhand from previous discussions had about it during the trek to Ormstead.

  ChatGPT said:

  Trevor exhales sharply, nodding. "Yeah. That damn tree. Whatever was rotting in that clearing, it felt wrong. And it had those undead prowling around it like hounds on a leash."

  Sienna leans forward, resting her arms on the table. "If that thing is the source—or at least connected—then the real question is, do we go back there? Or do we try to find someone in town who might know more before we put ourselves in the middle of it again?"

  Aren taps a finger against the table, considering. "We’re not exactly in fighting shape after last night. If there's a priest or scholar here who knows anything about undeath, we should start there. Otherwise, we’ll be walking in blind."

  Greg can tell from the way the conversation is shifting that the others are looking to him for the final call.

  I said:

  "Well I had given the guards that let us in fair warning enough. Though they told me to tell their captain." Greg pulls back out the stone collar struck with the strange claw marking.

  "He might believe us or not and decide to help. But ..." and here Greg sighs. He was hardly one to ever want to play at hero. And he isn't seeing much upside in what could potentially be a fatal encounter. And for what.

  But it was his thoughts of the undead bear that ultimately inspired him to do more.

  If he couldn't atleast avenge his spirit animal, then what point was there to continue on his path as a barbarian. He can't always turn tail from a risky challenge and claim there was no profit in it.

  "Look guys," the party would notice Greg's eyes turned serious. "If we seriously do this, we could all die, or worse. And we are practically ill-equipped to deal with undead curses and whatnot," remarking at best all they could do is burn the tree and hope that settles the matter.

  ChatGPT said:

  Sienna watches Greg carefully, her expression unreadable at first. Then, she smirks. "Well, I don't know about you, but I've always wanted to go out in a blaze of glory."

  Trevor snorts. "You'd make a terrible sellsword. No profit in dying." He crosses his arms, his expression a little more grim. "But you're right, Greg. If we go in without a solid plan, we’re asking for trouble. I don’t like the idea of marching straight into whatever corruption is festering there without backup—or better gear."

  Aren drums his fingers against the table again, thinking. "You said the guards told you to speak to their captain. If this town has dealt with undead before, the militia or clergy might have some experience handling it. We should start there. Maybe they even have records of past events like this."

  Sienna nods. "Agreed. We ask around, see what resources we can gather, and then we decide. If the town ignores this and we're the only ones willing to do something about it... then we go in knowing the risk."

  All three of them look to Greg again, waiting to see if he gives the final push in this direction.

  I said:

  "Well, let us go find the honcho in charge." Greg settles on trying to convince the guard captain Eldrick he was told about earlier in the day.

  (believe he's in the barracks?)

  ChatGPT said:

  Trevor nods. "Barracks should be the best place to start. If the guards are worth anything, their captain should be there during the day."

  Sienna adjusts the straps on her gear. "Let’s hope he’s in a listening mood. I’d rather not have to fight our way out of town for causing a panic."

  Aren smirks but says nothing, falling in step as the group rises from their booth and makes their way out of the Rusty Stag. The streets of Ormstead are busy but subdued, a quiet unease lingering in the air as villagers go about their day with wary glances toward the outskirts of town.

  The barracks is a sturdy stone building near the town square, with a modest training yard enclosed by a wooden palisade. A pair of guards stand at the entrance, spears in hand. They look the group over but don’t stop them.

  Greg leads the way inside, where the air is thick with the scent of oiled leather and sweat. A few off-duty guards sit at a table, dicing and chatting in low voices. A young soldier, no older than twenty, glances up at the group’s entrance. “Something you need?” he asks.

  Greg straightens up. "Looking for Captain Eldrick. Got some urgent business to discuss."

  The young guard frowns but nods, jerking his head toward a door further in. "He’s in his office. Knock first."

  Sienna sighs. "Great, let's see how this goes."

  Greg steps forward and raps his knuckles on the door.

  I said:

  Greg makes three loud knocks before addressing in his most confident voice-

  "Gregory Bearheart, visitor, here to make a report to the Captain."

  ChatGPT said:

  There’s a brief pause before a gruff voice calls out from inside. “Enter.”

  Greg pushes the door open, leading the group inside. Captain Eldrick sits behind a heavy wooden desk, a few scattered reports in front of him. He’s a weathered man in his forties, his face lined from years of service, his dark hair peppered with gray. His armor is well-kept but shows signs of long wear.

  His sharp eyes flick over the group, settling on Greg. “Bearheart, was it?” he repeats, setting his quill aside. “You don’t look like one of mine, so this better be good. I assume this has to do with whatever warning you gave my gate guards earlier?”

  Greg nods and steps forward, placing the strange stone collar on the desk. “Aye. We ran into some real trouble on the road here. Bandits, sure, but worse than that—undead. Not just your usual shambling corpses, either. Something’s out there in the woods, stirring up the dead, and we got a bad feeling it’s not stopping.”

  Eldrick leans forward, picking up the collar and examining the strange clawed marking. His expression hardens. “Go on.”

  I said:

  "In particular we found a trail different from some others. It lead to a barren clearing with a large tree of deadwood. Like not a leaf on this sucker. And around it, undead just standing there transfixed in its presence."

  Greg will also add that his party was able to make out some shadows out-of-sight, as if watching the undead from afar.

  "Those gave us no pursuit, however we were trailed by others. Could be the same or more unlucky chance." Greg will describe their battle with the strange undead humans.

  And Greg will report about the zombied wolf he killed and zombied bear they managed to avoid.

  "And that one acted the strangest. Almost like it was taking a nap like it was normal."

  ChatGPT said:

  Captain Eldrick listens intently, his face growing graver with each passing detail. When Greg describes the clearing and the undead transfixed by the tree, Eldrick's brow furrows. By the time the half-orc mentions the shadowy figures and the zombified bear acting unnaturally, the captain exhales sharply and leans back in his chair.

  “Well, damn,” he mutters. “You’re not the first to report strange figures in the fields at night, but no one’s come back with details like this.” He fingers the stone collar, running his thumb over the carved marking.

  “I don’t like this,” he admits. “The woods have always had their dangers, but necromancy? That’s different. And if it’s affecting the wildlife, that means it’s spreading.” He shakes his head. “Most undead wander aimlessly. They don’t watch. They don’t track. If something intelligent is behind this, then we’ve got a serious problem.”

  He looks between Greg and the others. “You said the tree seemed to be the center of it? If that’s the source, then it needs to be dealt with. But I don’t have men to spare—not with bandits still an issue on top of this.” He frowns. “If you lot were able to fight through it once, what would it take for you to go back and put a stop to it?”

  I said:

  Greg gives him a half-exasperated look, "Even if we would commit to it, we would need supplies. And any equipment that might prove useful in such a direct assault."

  "All I came to town with is this," motioning towards his greataxe weapoon.

  ChatGPT said:

  Captain Eldrick nods, clearly expecting this response. “Fair enough,” he says, rubbing his chin. “I can’t send men with you, but I can at least make sure you’re not walking into that nightmare empty-handed.”

  He glances at a locked weapons rack along the wall. “I can requisition some basic gear—torches, oil, maybe a couple of vials of holy water if the temple still has any to spare.” He looks Greg up and down, then the rest of the group. “If you need better weapons or armor, you’d have to speak with the blacksmith. Name’s Rurik Ironbrand. He’s fair, but he doesn’t work for free.”

  His expression hardens. “If you’re serious about this, I’ll also write a letter to the temple, see if they can spare a blessing or any charms to ward off undeath.” He leans forward, arms resting on the desk. “But I need your word, Bearheart. If I go through the trouble of pulling what little resources we have, you won’t just take them and leave town.”

  His steel-gray eyes fix on Greg, waiting for his response.

  I said:

  Greg looks to the others to gauge their reactions. His face looking to see if they are ready to follow him back into this. Like really ready.

  ChatGPT said:

  Trevor meets Greg’s gaze with a firm nod. “We started this together. No sense in leaving the job half-done.” His hand instinctively rests on the hilt of his sword, his expression resolute.

  Sienna exhales sharply, rolling one shoulder as if preparing for a fight. “Wouldn’t sit right with me to walk away, not after what we’ve seen. That thing in the woods… it needs to be dealt with.”

  Aren hesitates, adjusting his glasses as he looks between them. “It’s reckless. And dangerous. But I’d rather face it head-on than wait for it to creep up to these walls.” He sighs. “I’m in.”

  Greg sees it in their faces. They aren’t backing down. They’re with him.

  Vannis, who had followed silently, simply shrugs. “I prefer to solve problems before they become mine. So if this is what we’re doing, let’s do it.”

  The half-orc turns back to Captain Eldrick, his decision clear.

  I said:

  "We'll do it," Greg nods to Captain Eldrick, absolute in this chosen course.

  To reassure the captain, the half-orc says he has a plan. And it involves alchemist's fire.

  Though after going over the entirety of it, and quickly realizing they could easily be overwhelmed with sheer numbers-

  "... some healing potions would be nice too."

  ChatGPT said:

  Captain Eldrick listens intently as Greg lays out his plan. When the mention of alchemist’s fire comes up, the man’s brows furrow slightly, but he doesn’t immediately object. As Greg finishes and tacks on the request for healing potions, Eldrick leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest.

  “You’re asking for alchemist’s fire,” he muses, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “That’s not something we keep in great supply here—it’s dangerous, and expensive. But given the circumstances…” He glances at one of the guards standing by the door. “See what we have in storage. If we’ve got any, bring it here.”

  The guard nods and quickly exits. Eldrick then focuses back on Greg and the others.

  “Healing potions, I can spare two. More than that, and I’m dipping into what we need for our own wounded, should things turn worse.” He stands up, pacing slightly. “I appreciate that you’re taking this seriously. I don’t have men to send with you, but I’ll make sure you’re not walking into this empty-handed.”

  The guard returns shortly after, holding a small wooden crate. He sets it down on Eldrick’s desk and opens it, revealing two glass vials filled with thick red liquid—clearly healing potions—and, to some luck, three flasks of alchemist’s fire. Eldrick nods approvingly.

  “This is what I can offer,” he states. “Use it wisely. If you can root out whatever’s causing this and put it to rest, Ormstead will be in your debt.”

  He looks over the group one last time. “Anything else you need before you set out?”

  I said:

  "Do your stocks have any spare weapons, or armor, about?" Greg isn't sure about the others, but picturing himself running head first into the fray with some actual gear on might be the smarter move.

  ChatGPT said:

  Eldrick gives Greg a scrutinizing look before nodding. “Aye, we’ve got some standard issue gear—nothing fancy, but it’ll serve in a fight.” He gestures to another guard. “Take them to the armory, let them see what we can spare.”

  The guard motions for the group to follow, leading them across the barracks to a reinforced storeroom. Inside, racks of weapons and armor are neatly arranged. Most of it looks like militia-grade gear—nothing masterwork, but serviceable enough.

  Greg eyes the selection, taking stock of what might suit him best. Among the available equipment, he finds:

  A standard steel shield (AC +2, requires one hand)

  A battleaxe (1d8 slashing, versatile for 1d10)

  A longsword (1d8 slashing, versatile for 1d10)

  A shortbow with a quiver of 20 arrows

  A set of chain shirt armor (AC 13 + Dex modifier, max 2)

  The guard nods toward the stock. “You’re free to take what you need—just don’t expect us to let you keep it once this job is done.”

  Greg glances at his current gear, weighing his options. If he wanted to focus on a more defensive approach, the shield would be a solid choice. If he wanted a weapon with more adaptability, the battleaxe or longsword could work. The chain shirt would be an upgrade from his usual garb, though he’s already got his unarmored defense to consider.

  The others browse as well, but the question remains—what will Greg take?

  I said:

  The others watch Greg don the chain shirt, his experience as a mercenary making it seem like he is putting on a shirt of cloth. He then puts a hand on the standard shield and another on the battleaxe, flexing his grip and seeing how they feels with some fluid motion.

  "You guys need anything," the half-orc asks the others, mentioning to Sienna it might be worth it to take the quiver with her.

  ChatGPT said:

  Sienna nods at Greg’s suggestion and picks up the quiver of arrows, slinging it over her shoulder as she checks the fletching. “Good call. I was running low.”

  Trevor gives the weapons a quick glance and looks at his own half-chipped spear. “Might as well take this," and picks the longsword. "This spear is almost a scrap stick anyways.”

  Aren, on the other hand, gives the racks a quick once over but shakes his head. “I’ll stick with my own gear. I know how it moves.” "picks up the chain shirt and inspects it.

  Greg, now outfitted with a chain shirt, battleaxe, and shield, gets a feel for the new setup. The armor may be stiffer than his natural skin, but it should afford a measure of protection. The weight of the shield adds a layer of defense he didn’t have before, and the battleaxe, though slightly shorter than his greataxe, still has a solid bite to it. He might miss the sheer impact of the heavier weapon, but this setup should give him better survivability against a horde of undead.

  With everyone geared up, the guard leading them nods. “That everything? If so, I’ll take you back to the captain. He’ll want to hear how you plan to handle this.”

  I said:

  "Yes, thank you. Hopefully we can return these to you in good order."

  ChatGPT said:

  The guard smirks. “Just bring yourselves back in one piece, and we’ll call it even.”

  With that, he leads the group back through the barracks, the scent of oiled leather and steel lingering in the air. The late afternoon sun casts long shadows as they step out into the open yard, where Captain Eldrick waits with his arms crossed. His sharp eyes scan over the party, lingering briefly on how Greg easily fills out the new gear he'd taken.

  “Good,” he says with a firm nod. “Now, tell me how you plan to deal with this.”

  Greg steps forward, gripping the shield’s strap a little tighter. “Alchemist’s fire. We burn the tree down.”

  The captain listens intently as Greg lays out the plan. They’d approach carefully, set up an ambush position, and rain fire down on the tree. With luck, the flames would disrupt whatever unholy force was keeping the undead anchored there. The big risk was how many would come after them once the fire started.

  “…which is why we’ll need an escape route,” Greg finishes. “No sense dying out there if things go south.”

  Eldrick strokes his beard in thought. “Not a bad strategy. We have a small supply of alchemist’s fire—enough for each of you to carry one vial. Use it wisely.” He glances to one of the guards nearby, who quickly jogs off to retrieve the supplies.

  He then fixes Greg with a steady gaze. “You’re taking on a serious risk. If things get too dire, you get back here. Understood?”

  I said:

  "Understood. Well it is now or never guys. Let's finish stocking up and move out."

  Greg will take the party - and drags Vannis - back into town to restock up on basic traveling supplies to replenish their basic bags and acquire the tools they need.

  Vannis of course is footed the bill.

  (I'd like for this to be a basic shopping scene, you can narrate what each Trevor, Sienna, and Aren might need for the coming journey - with their respective skillsets in mind - and Greg will just replenish the number of what is found is his basic Explorer's Pack.)

  (Also before we head out, I'd like to go over the party inventory to determine the consumables we obtained and where to place them on the party.)

  ChatGPT said:

  The party moves through Ormstead’s marketplace, a modest but well-stocked collection of stalls and shops that cater to travelers, hunters, and farm folk alike. The late afternoon sun filters through wooden awnings, casting a warm glow over crates of dried meats, bundles of rope, and racks of simple but sturdy tools.

  Vannis, still looking reluctant but wise enough not to argue, fishes into his coin purse as Greg starts laying out what they need.

  Shopping & Supplies:

  Greg replenishes his Explorer’s Pack, restocking rations (5 days' worth), torches (2), a length of hempen rope (50 ft.), and a fresh waterskin. He also picks up a whetstone to keep his weapons sharp.

  Trevor selects two additional vials of oil for his lantern, a small bag of caltrops, and a length of thin wire—likely for setting traps. He also eyes a dagger, sliding it into his belt as a backup weapon.

  Sienna picks up a quiver of fresh arrows (20), nodding in approval at the quality. She also grabs a hunting trap, a sturdy steel contraption that could be useful for catching a scout before they’re caught off guard. Additionally, she purchases a small flask of strong liquor—whether for practical use or a morale boost is left unsaid.

  Aren takes two flasks of holy water, his face set with grim determination. He also acquires a vial of fine silver dust, which might have arcane applications. Lastly, he insists on a healer’s kit, knowing full well that they’ll likely need it before the mission is over.

  Party Consumables Inventory:

  (For easy reference and distribution)

  4 vials of Alchemist’s Fire

  2 flasks of Holy Water

  2 vials of oil

  1 bag of caltrops

  1 hunting trap

  1 vial of silver dust

  1 healer’s kit

  Proposed Distribution:

  Greg: 1 Alchemist’s Fire, 1 vial of oil

  Trevor: 1 Alchemist’s Fire, caltrops

  Sienna: 1 Alchemist’s Fire, hunting trap

  Aren: 1 Alchemist’s Fire, both flasks of Holy Water, silver dust, healer’s kit

  As the last of the goods are packed, Vannis exhales sharply. “That’s quite the tab,” he mutters, snapping his coin purse shut. “You lot better make it back in one piece.”

  Greg gives him a hearty slap on the back. “That’s the plan.”

  With supplies gathered and weapons checked, the party steels themselves for the road ahead. The sun is dipping toward the horizon, meaning they’ll be traveling in the evening, perhaps even reaching the forest as night falls.

  “Ready?”

  I said:

  (take Greg's vial of oil and give it to Sienna as a makeshift way to lite her arrows on fire)

  (every else looks good)

  After Greg signals the team to move out, he chances a glance back at Vannis where he gives him a very pointed look.

  "When we do come back, I still think you owe us more than what be on that tab."

  And in a light-hearted gesture, he salutes the merchant lord with two fingers to his temple and walks off.

  The last shot Vannis sees is those who had saved him marching back into the forest on a sunset drop.

  ChatGPT said:

  Vannis watches them go, his expression unreadable as Greg and the others disappear down the worn dirt road leading out of Ormstead. The setting sun casts long shadows over the town walls, painting the landscape in hues of deep orange and fading gold.

  As Greg and his companions march forward, the weight of their mission settles over them. The supplies jostle in their packs, weapons secured at their sides, each footstep crunching over dry earth and fallen leaves.

  The forest looms ahead, dark and still, as if waiting for their return.

  I said:

  (plan is to keep to our current sleep schedule, we will travel by night and take the long rests in the morning hours)

  (the more pressing concern is to deal with this situation as quickly as possible, and not rely on the sun for guidance)

  (three of us have darkvision anyways)

  ChatGPT said:

  The party moves under the dimming sky, their path illuminated by the final vestiges of daylight before darkness fully claims the land. The night air is cool, the distant hoot of an owl the only sound breaking the eerie quiet of the wilderness.

  Greg leads the way with his usual confidence, knowing that every moment wasted is another for the corruption to fester. Sienna, moving lightly on her feet, keeps an eye on their surroundings, ever watchful for signs of movement. Trevor walks with a silent determination, his thoughts unreadable, while Aren, though perhaps the least suited for travel in the dark, keeps pace with steady resolve.

  Their goal is clear—return to the clearing, assess the situation, and destroy the source of this undeath before it worsens. The sooner, the better.

  I said:

  (We continue on until queued by a DM decision.)

  ChatGPT said:

  The march through the darkened forest is eerily quiet, save for the rustling of leaves in the wind and the distant sounds of nocturnal creatures. The path back to the clearing is familiar, but now, under the cover of night, it feels different—more oppressive, as if the forest itself is holding its breath.

  Sienna keeps a sharp eye out, her elven vision piercing through the gloom, while Trevor occasionally glances back to ensure Aren isn’t lagging behind. Greg, with his sharpened instincts, leads with a careful but steady pace, his fingers resting on the haft of his newly acquired battleaxe.

  As they press on, a sudden chill rolls through the trees, unnatural and clinging to their skin despite the lack of wind. The air smells stale—like old rot disturbed from deep within the earth.

  And then, up ahead, the faintest movement. A shadow where there should be none. Something lurks just beyond the edges of their vision.

  (Does Greg stop the group? Or press forward cautiously?)

  I said:

  (before deciding, remind me how many days it would take to reach the clearing with the big dead tree, from where we started at Ormstead)

  ChatGPT said:

  From Ormstead, traveling on foot through the forest at a steady pace, it would take a little over a day to reach the clearing with the big dead tree.

  On the first trip, your party reached it in about a day and a half, but that included cautious travel, backtracking, and a night of rest.

  Now, with a direct route in mind and moving at night, you could potentially reach it sometime the next night if you keep a steady pace and rest in the morning.

  Right now, you're only a few hours into the journey after leaving Ormstead.

  I said:

  "Right ... Aren you might want to get a torch ready," Greg says in sensing the potential danger. "We're now hired to deal with this problem. And that is what we'll do." Greg readies himself for battle, battleaxe and shield in hand. His greataxe is strapped to his back.

  "How many of them can you see," he asks of Sienna.

  ChatGPT said:

  Sienna narrows her eyes, scanning the darkened treeline ahead. Her hand rests lightly on an arrow, ready to nock it at a moment’s notice.

  "At least four," she murmurs, voice low. "Moving slow...shambling. Could be more behind them."

  The faint crack of branches under clumsy, uncoordinated steps grows more distinct as the figures emerge into clearer view. The moonlight reveals twisted, half-rotted forms, draped in remnants of tattered clothing. Their hollow, sunken eyes seem to glow faintly with an unnatural energy.

  "Yep, those are dead folk," Trevor mutters, reaching for his blades.

  Aren steps forward and strikes a torch to life, its flickering orange glow casting long shadows against the trees. The undead flinch slightly at the sudden light but continue forward with grim inevitability.

  Greg can hear the distinct wet, rasping sounds of their breath—or whatever mockery of breath remains in their decayed throats.

  "Four that we see," Greg muses, tightening his grip on his shield. "Could be more. So let's keep this tight and put them back in the ground."

  Roll for initiative.

  I said:

  Greg's roll was 5 for Initiative 7.

  ChatGPT said:

  Got it! Greg's initiative is 7.

  Here’s the turn order after rolling for the enemies and the party:

  Initiative Order:

  Sienna (19)

  Aren (15)

  Undead Figures (13)

  Trever (9)

  Greg (7)

  The fight begins!

  Sienna's Turn:

  Sienna quickly takes cover behind a tree, drawing an arrow and whispering, "I count at least six moving between the trees—humanoid, but wrong. There's more beyond them, lurking." She nocks an arrow, aiming for one of the nearest figures.

  Attack Roll: 17 (Hit)

  Damage Roll: 9 piercing

  Her arrow strikes true, embedding itself in the chest of one of the approaching figures. It lets out a hollow, rasping breath but continues shambling forward.

  Aren’s Turn:

  Aren grips his quarterstaff, eyes narrowing. "I’ll try to slow ‘em down." He raises a hand, muttering an incantation, and casts Entangle in the space between them and the approaching undead, causing thick vines to erupt from the forest floor.

  Strength Save DC 13:

  Three of the undead fail and are restrained by the writhing vines.

  The other three manage to push through, still advancing.

  Undead Figures’ Turn:

  Three restrained undead struggle against the vines but fail to break free.

  Three free undead charge forward:

  One swings at Greg! (Attack Roll: 11) – Greg blocks the swipe with his shield.

  One attacks Trevor! (Attack Roll: 14) – Trevor dodges just in time.

  One lurches toward Aren but misses completely.

  Trevor's Turn:

  Trevor grips his new longsword with both hands and arcs it at the one attacking him.

  Attack Roll: 16 (Hit)

  Damage Roll: 6 slashing

  The creature recoils as his blade pierces through its decayed flesh.

  Greg’s Turn!

  Greg, you’ve got one undead right in your face. You can attack, try to shove it, or take another action. What does he do?

  I said:

  Greg uses his Bonus Action to Rage. Then re-positions himself to be in the midst of the melee.

  He attacks the one on Aren, hoping he can swing at advantage. (due to possible flanking, yes or no?)

  ChatGPT said:

  Yes! With Greg repositioning and attacking from the opposite side of Aren, he gets advantage on his attack due to flanking.

  Greg’s Turn:

  Bonus Action: Rage! Greg lets out a guttural roar, muscles tensing as his vision sharpens in the dim light.

  Movement: Greg shifts into the thick of battle, planting himself between the enemies and his allies.

  Attack (Advantage from Flanking):

  Roll 1: 14

  Roll 2: 19 (Hit!)

  Damage Roll (Battleaxe, Rage Bonus Included): (1d8 + 4 STR + 2 Rage)

  Roll: 7 + 4 + 2 = 13 slashing

  With a mighty downward swing, Greg’s battleaxe cleaves through the undead’s shoulder, nearly splitting it in two! The creature staggers, barely held together, but still moving.

  End of Round 1:

  Three undead are still restrained.

  The one on Aren is badly injured.

  The other two in melee are still attacking Greg and Trevor.

  Sienna is up next! Want to keep going?

  I said:

  Have Sienna take up a rearguard position, but behind the party line in an effort to provoke opportunity attacks from her companions should one of the undead make a break for her.

  Otherwise, she'll use her ranger skills for attack purposes, trying to finish off the one that's been hit twice already.

  ChatGPT said:

  Sienna’s Turn:

  Movement: She carefully steps back into a rearguard position, staying just behind Greg, Aren, and Trevor. With her bow drawn, she watches for any undead trying to break past the front line, setting them up for potential opportunity attacks from her allies.

  Attack: She aims her arrow at the heavily injured undead (the one Greg just struck), hoping to finish it off.

  Attack Roll (Longbow, Normal Roll): 15 (Hit!)

  Damage Roll (1d8 + 3 DEX):

  Roll: 6 + 3 = 9 piercing

  Outcome:

  The arrow pierces through the undead’s skull, shattering its eerie glow as it collapses lifelessly to the ground. The first enemy is down!

  Next Up: Undead Enemies' Turn

  Three enemies remain—two engaged with Greg and Trevor, and three still restrained by vines.

  The restrained ones try to break free!

  Strength Save DC 13: Fails for all three! (The vines still hold them tight.)

  The two attacking Greg and Trevor:

  Attack on Greg (Disadvantage due to Reckless Attack NOT being used):

  Rolls: 10, 13 → Miss! (Greg’s shield easily blocks the swipe.)

  Attack on Trevor:

  Rolls: 15 → Hit!

  Damage: 5 slashing (Trevor takes the hit but holds firm.)

  Back to the top of the round!

  Trevor is up next—what's his move?

  I said:

  (just to point out: Greg not using the Reckless feat does not induce disadvantage vs opponent attack rolls)

  ChatGPT said:

  You're absolutely right! Not using Reckless Attack just means Greg isn't granting advantage to enemies. The undead attacking Greg would have rolled normally. It still missed, though!

  Now, Trevor's turn—what's his move?

  I said:

  Trevor attacks with longsword.

  ChatGPT said:

  Trevor lands a longsword attack for 6 slashing damage.

  Now it's Aren's turn—what's his action?

  I said:

  Aren uses movement to get in flanking position vs the zombie Trevor has engaged. (may I see the damage rolls being done as well please)

  ChatGPT said:

  Aren moves swiftly into position, coordinating with Trevor to flank the undead. He lands a solid blow with his quarterstaff for 8 bludgeoning.

  The undead Trevor and Aren are fighting is heavily damaged but still standing.

  Now, it's the undead's turn. Two of them remain.

  One attacks Greg, rolling 15 to hit (misses due to his shield).

  The other attacks Trevor, rolling 17 to hit (hits). Trevor takes 5 necrotic damage as the undead's claws rake across him.

  Back to the top of the round—Sienna is up! What does she do?

  I said:

  (I had meant to see the damage rolls being done as part of the attack roll, if a hit)

  Sienna attempts to pierce the undead between Trevor and Aren with an arrow. (attack action)

  ChatGPT said:

  Got it! Here’s Sienna’s attack roll and damage:

  Attack Roll: 14 + modifiers (hit)

  Damage Roll: 6 piercing damage

  The arrow strikes true, but the undead is still barely holding on.

  Greg is up next! What does he do?

  I said:

  Greg will move to flank the nearly dead undead and attempt to finishing it off with an attack.

  (may I roll this one?)

  ChatGPT said:

  Of course! Go ahead and roll for Greg’s attack, and I’ll handle the damage once we know if it hits.

  I said:

  (do I get advantage on this swing?)

  ChatGPT said:

  Yes, since you're flanking the undead with Trevor, you'll have advantage on this attack. Go ahead and roll with advantage!

  I said:

  okay so my rolls are a 10 and 17, making it a 23 to hit

  assuming that hits my damage roll is a 2 +str +rage making it 8 total in slashing

  ChatGPT said:

  That hits! Your damage roll of 8 slashing is enough to finish off the undead with a powerful strike. The creature collapses, its body breaking apart under the force of your blow.

  The battle now stands in a much more favorable position, with most of the undead dealt with. It's up to the rest of the party to mop up any remaining threats!

  I said:

  (there are still 3 restrained undead, yes?)

  ChatGPT said:

  Yes, there are still 3 restrained undead that haven't been dealt with yet. They are struggling against their bindings, but they're still alive and active. The party has the opportunity to finish them off now, or maybe find another way to secure them while they focus on the remaining threat. Would you like to continue with your actions?

  I said:

  "Let's finish these buggers off before they can break free of those vines."

  (narratively, you can wrap up this battle if you want or do you want us to continue with the turn order?)

  ChatGPT said:

  Let's go ahead and wrap up the battle then!

  As Greg urges the group to act quickly, the party moves to finish off the remaining restrained undead. With Sienna, Aren, and Trevor moving in quickly, they efficiently bring down the last of the three restrained enemies.

  The vines that once held them bound now lie in tatters as the last of the undead crumple to the ground, their unnatural life snuffed out. Greg's mighty swing, Sienna's precise arrows, and Aren's and Trevor's joint strikes all contribute to the fall of the remaining foes.

  With the last of the enemies dispatched, a brief moment of silence falls over the clearing. The unnatural stillness of the forest is only interrupted by the sounds of heavy breathing and the rustle of leaves. The group has emerged victorious, but the clearing still feels heavy with the unnatural presence that lingers in the air.

  Would you like to investigate the clearing further, or proceed with your next steps?

  I said:

  "Was anyone hit," Greg will ask his party, not sure who did what in those first few seconds of combat.

  ChatGPT said:

  A quick glance around reveals no one appears seriously injured, though Trevor looks like he might have taken a few minor scratches. Aren seems to have managed well enough, his armor taking the brunt of any blows. Sienna looks unharmed, her quick reflexes likely saving her from any harm.

  Trevor wipes some sweat from his brow, his face etched with a mixture of relief and determination. "Nothing too serious, just a few grazes," he responds, looking over his comrades to confirm everyone's status.

  The group appears to have weathered the fight well, thanks to their coordination and Greg's leadership.

  Now, with the battle over, the clearing is eerily quiet once again. What would you like to do next?

  I said:

  "Still we need to get that patched up. Aren see to it." Greg barks the order for him to use a charge of that healer's kit.

  While that small downtime is needed, Greg and Sienna will scout this area just to make sure their eyes can't pick anything up. Like do the corpses look like bandits, or anything else that is discernible?

  ChatGPT said:

  Aren nods, rummaging through his pack for the healer's kit and beginning to tend to Trevor's minor wounds. He efficiently cleans and bandages any cuts, using a charge from the kit to help speed the process.

  Meanwhile, Greg and Sienna take a moment to scan the area, making sure there are no surprises lingering.

  The undead you just dispatched seem to be wearing mismatched, faded clothing, though there's no immediate sign of anything that would mark them as bandits or soldiers. The clothes are tattered and dirty, with none of the usual markings or insignia that would indicate their affiliation. The only oddity is a strange sigil—a claw-like symbol—scratched into the dirt around where they had fallen. It doesn’t match anything you’ve seen so far.

  The ground around the corpses has some evidence of past scuffling, but nothing that conclusively ties them to any recent battle or ambush. It’s all just the strange and unsettling combination of dead and decay.

  Sienna squints, her sharp eyes noting that the sigil isn’t just carved into the earth but also seems to appear on one of the undead’s tattered cloaks, though it’s faded.

  "Could be connected to whatever’s been causing the disturbances," she murmurs, moving closer to inspect the markings further.

  What would you like to do with the information you've gathered here?

  I said:

  "Again with this marking," Greg remembering back to the strange collar. The half-orc will attempt to kick at the dirt where this sigil is, as a way to get rid of it.

  ChatGPT said:

  Greg kicks at the dirt, dislodging some of the soil and obscuring the strange claw-like sigil. It doesn't completely vanish, but the kick definitely disrupts its form, as if trying to erase it from memory. The faint outline of the symbol is still there, though much less visible now, buried under dirt and debris.

  The gesture seems more symbolic than practical, perhaps an attempt to distance yourself from whatever dark forces are tied to the marking.

  Sienna looks at the spot where the sigil had been, her expression thoughtful. "I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss it," she says quietly. "These markings... they've shown up before in places where there’s been some kind of curse or dark magic. We might want to look into this further when we’re back in town."

  Aren finishes patching up Trevor, looking up from his work. "Agreed. But for now, we've got the immediate problem to handle."

  With the battle won and no more threats immediately visible, your party is left with the eerie quiet of the forest surrounding you. It’s a strange calm after the chaos, but the unsettled feeling lingers, especially with the sigil still on your mind.

  What do you all wish to do next?

  I said:

  Seeing the the party mostly recovered, Greg urges them onward, "We can still make some good ground tonight. Let's move out."

  ChatGPT said:

  Greg pushes the party onward, determined to make as much progress as possible before resting. The forest remains eerily silent after their skirmish, the only sounds coming from their own movements through the underbrush. Shadows stretch and shift under the moonlight, and every so often, Sienna or Trevor glances over their shoulder—just in case something else is watching.

  Hours pass, and though fatigue is creeping in, the group presses forward. The air grows colder, and the trees thin out slightly, revealing more barren patches of land—further signs of the unnatural corruption taking hold. The ominous landmark they seek is still ahead, but they are closing in.

  At this point, would Greg want to continue traveling through the night, or set up camp just before exhaustion takes hold?

  I said:

  "We'll make camp somewhere here. Seems quiet enough," Greg stops the party, aiming Sienna to start scouting for a safer place to rest.

  "I want us at our full strength for tomorrow. I'm thinking we are gonna need it."

  ChatGPT said:

  Sienna nods and moves off quietly, scanning the area for a suitable campsite. She moves with practiced ease, her shifter eyes cutting through the darkness as she searches for a place that offers both cover and a defensible position.

  After a few minutes, she returns and gestures for the group to follow. "Found a decent spot. Trees are thick enough to give us cover from prying eyes, and there's a bit of natural elevation—if anything approaches, we’ll see it coming."

  Greg leads the party to the chosen site, and they begin setting up camp. The process is swift and efficient, with Trevor gathering dry wood for a small, low-burning fire while Aren arranges their bedrolls in a semi-circle.

  Greg, ever the cautious warrior, keeps his battleaxe close as he helps clear the area of debris. "Alright, same watch order as before?" he asks, looking between them.

  Once the order is confirmed, the group settles in, each member knowing that tonight might be the last true rest they get before confronting whatever dark force lurks at the heart of this curse.

  I said:

  Greg will have Aren take the first watch, since his night vision is the least perceptive of us, he is given the duty where it is the most unlikely time to get attacked, well considering how quiet it is in present circumstances.

  Second watch will be Trevor for much the same reason.

  Third watch is Sienna and fourth is Greg, because it would be best to have the best survivalists running the duty at the time they think something were to try and spring on them.

  And with that, Greg bids everyone a good night's rest as he leans back on his bedroll, using his arms as a pillow.

  ChatGPT said:

  The watch order is set, and the group settles in for the night, each finding what little comfort they can on the forest floor. The distant sounds of nocturnal creatures fill the air, but the thick trees provide some measure of seclusion from prying eyes.

  Aren takes his position by the fire, keeping his torch close as he scans the area. Though his vision isn't the sharpest in the dark, he remains alert, fingers lightly tapping against his sheathed sword to keep himself focused. The hours pass uneventfully, the gentle crackle of the fire the only real disturbance.

  When it’s time, he nudges Trevor awake. The rogue grumbles but takes his place, adjusting his cloak around him to fend off the night’s chill. He remains quiet, his keen ears listening for any unnatural disturbances, though nothing approaches the camp.

  The third watch falls to Sienna, who sits cross-legged atop a fallen log, her sharp gaze flickering across the tree line. She listens to the distant hoots of an owl and the rustling of small critters in the underbrush. At one point, she catches a faint, unfamiliar scent on the wind—something earthy and stale, like decaying wood. But after a few tense moments of scanning the area, nothing emerges.

  Finally, the last watch shifts to Greg. The half-orc stirs awake with practiced ease, stretching before rising to his feet. He grips his battleaxe loosely as he moves a short distance from the fire, listening to the forest wake up around him. The chill of the night is beginning to fade, replaced by the first hints of dawn. He takes a slow breath, feeling the weight of the coming battle ahead.

  When the first traces of morning light begin to break through the trees, he turns back to the camp. "Alright, up and at it," he calls out, nudging Trevor with his foot. "We've got work to do."

  I said:

  After their camp is packed up, Greg goes over the plan one last time.

  "Listen, we should make the clearing right around nightfall. Sunset time if we are lucky. Just keep sharp out there. We can't afford any slacking."

  Greg just has the party make sure they are properly equipping, double-checking that each has one of those all-important vials of Alchemist's Fire.

  Then he has them move out.

  (we did finish a long rest, uninterrupted, correct?)

  ChatGPT said:

  (Yes, your long rest was uninterrupted. Everyone is fully rested, with all hit points, spell slots, and abilities restored.)

  With their camp packed and gear checked, Greg makes sure each party member has their vial of Alchemist’s Fire secured and easily accessible. Weapons are sharpened, armor is adjusted, and supplies are accounted for. The weight of the task ahead hangs over them, but each of them is ready.

  The journey continues, the dense forest gradually giving way to more barren stretches of land. As Greg predicted, they should reach the clearing near sunset if they keep a steady pace. The trees thin as the group marches forward, the eerie stillness of the land growing more pronounced. The closer they get, the more it feels like something unseen is watching.

  They move on, the final leg of their journey now in sight.

  I said:

  (before continuing, around how much travel did the party cover this day, and around what roughly what time is it now?)

  ChatGPT said:

  (The party covered most of the remaining distance throughout the day, traveling cautiously but efficiently. You’re now only about an hour’s walk from the clearing with the dead tree. The sun is low on the horizon, casting deep orange and purple hues across the sky—just on the edge of twilight.)

  I said:

  "Alright guys, looks like we got here easy enough," Greg grunts low but better thinks on how to proceed from here on.

  "Let's first scope out the perimeter. Just to make we don't get bogged down by enemy undead. We will take a stealth approach until we know what these shadows we are dealing with are."

  Greg looks to Aren, who had used an Entangle spell before.

  "Just curious, but how many of those trap spells can you muster?"

  ChatGPT said:

  Aren furrows his brow in thought before replying, “I’ve got a couple left in me for the day. Two, maybe three if I push it. But if we’re expecting a big fight, I’ll need to save some energy for other spells.”

  He glances toward the darkening treetops. “But if we’re going stealthy, I can help with that too. I’ve got a spell that can quiet our steps for a while.”

  Trevor nods, gripping his weapon. “Scouting first is smart. We don’t want to charge in blind.”

  Sienna, already scanning ahead, whispers, “I’ll take point. Keep your spacing tight but quiet.”

  (Will the party proceed with Pass Without Trace, or attempt normal stealth checks?)

  I said:

  "We need to make sure our approach goes as quiet as possible," Greg surmises at best.

  (We will proceed with Pass Without Trace.)

  And when Greg feels the effects of the magic take hold, he recommends-

  "Try to keep this one up as long as possible," with the barbarian nodding to Sienna to lead on.

  ChatGPT said:

  Aren nods and quietly chants, weaving the magic of Pass Without Trace over the group. A moment later, the shadows seem to deepen around them, their footsteps muffled as if absorbed by the very air. The group moves like ghosts through the underbrush, with Sienna leading the way.

  Sienna keeps her eyes sharp, scanning for movement, signs of enemies, or anything unnatural as they slowly approach the clearing.

  (Everyone rolls Stealth with a +10 bonus from Pass Without Trace—would you like to roll for Greg, or should I?)

  I said:

  I would still like to do all the rolls for my character (Greg).

  my roll is a 7, +2 dex mod, and +10 for Pass Without Trace = Stealth 19

  ChatGPT said:

  Got it! Greg moves quietly, his heavy footfalls surprisingly muffled by the magical aura.

  I'll roll for the others now to determine the overall stealth of the group.

  Stealth Rolls:

  Sienna: 17 + 4 + 10 = 31

  Aren: 12 + 1 + 10 = 23

  Trevor: 14 + 2 + 10 = 26

  With everyone moving nearly soundlessly, the party advances toward the clearing. Sienna, at the front, signals the group to slow as they near the treeline, where they have a vantage point over the dead tree and its surroundings.

  Would you like Sienna to roll Perception to get a better look before proceeding?

  I said:

  Yes, can we do with advantage with Greg using Help action to assist?

  ChatGPT said:

  Yes! With Greg aiding her, Sienna rolls Perception with advantage.

  Rolls:

  First roll: 11 + 5 = 16

  Second roll: 18 + 5 = 23

  Sienna carefully surveys the clearing, her keen eyes picking out details in the fading light.

  Here’s what she notices:

  The undead around the tree are eerily still, standing like sentinels. They appear humanoid but twisted, with rotted flesh and unnatural stiffness.

  The shadows lurking near the perimeter are more than just tricks of the light—figures moving unnaturally, almost blending into the darkness itself.

  At the base of the dead tree, the earth appears disturbed, as if something has been buried or recently unearthed.

  There are faintly glowing runes etched into the bark of the tree, pulsating with a sickly green light.

  Sienna relays all of this in hushed tones.

  What’s Greg’s call on how to proceed?

  I said:

  After hearing her survey, he first asks to confirm-

  "How many possible hostiles did your eyes pick up?"

  ChatGPT said:

  Sienna narrows her eyes, carefully recounting what she saw.

  "I count at least six undead standing near the tree. Could be more, but those are the ones I can confirm. As for the shadows... at least three, maybe more lurking just beyond the clearing. They’re hard to track, but they move like they’re watching the undead—maybe even controlling them."

  She pauses before adding, "Then there’s whatever is going on with that tree. Those runes are pulsing with something unnatural. Could be the source, or at least tied to it."

  The numbers aren’t overwhelming, but the unknown factor of the shadows and the runes complicates things.

  What’s Greg thinking?

  I said:

  "Well I've got two plans. But both could get us swamped." Greg goes over what he is thinking with his voice as low as possible.

  His first plan is for Sienna to loose a fire-tipped arrow into the big dead tree. If it is indeed the source of the corruption, then setting it ablaze first might affect the undead and improve their odds.

  "Of course, this is all just guesswork. It may just send them all angry our way." Greg musing his first plan may just backfire, no pun intended.

  The second plan he goes over is trying to deal with these shadows first.

  "If we can take them out first, then we might be able to better deal with those zombies just standing there at the tree."

  Greg's mind then passes over something else just learned and makes this new worry known to the others.

  "But now I'm concerned about this patch of earth Sienna was able to spot. Could be something a cursed object that these undead are drawn to ... or if it be something dug up that caused this mess."

  The others can see Greg is at a small loss on what to decide, trying to gauge on what the others think is the better course of action.

  ChatGPT said:

  Trevor strokes his chin, his face serious as he considers Greg’s options. “If the tree is fueling them, burning it could weaken them. But if it’s a trap, we’ll have to deal with a rush of undead, plus whatever those shadows are.”

  Aren frowns. “I don’t like the idea of going in blind. If those shadows are controlling the undead, we should try and take them out first. Could be necromancers, or worse… wraiths.” He glances at Sienna. “Any idea if they’re moving like people, or…?”

  Sienna shakes her head. “They’re fast. Too fast for normal people. Could be wraiths, or something else lurking in the Ethereal plane. Either way, they’re not just watching for fun.”

  Aren nods, looking back to Greg. “Then that’s our best move. We pick off the shadows first before they can command the undead. If they fall, the others might just stand there.”

  Trevor sighs. “We can always burn the tree later, assuming we’re still alive.”

  Sienna smirks. “That’s the spirit.”

  The party looks to Greg. What’s the call?

  I said:

  "We'll try to circle around then." (How much time do we have left with Pass Without Trace?)

  ChatGPT said:

  (You’ve got about 40 minutes left on Pass Without Trace. Plenty of time to maneuver, but if combat drags on, it may wear off before you're clear.)

  As Greg decides to circle around, Sienna gives a nod. “Alright. We stay low, keep our steps light. If we get close enough, I might be able to get a better look at what they are before we strike.”

  Aren grips his staff. “And if they see us first?”

  Trevor grins. “Then we improvise.”

  The party shifts into motion, skirting the clearing and keeping the tree and the motionless undead in their periphery. The shadows are still on the move, flitting through the fog-drenched trees like predators on the hunt.

  Does Greg want to lead the stealth approach, or have Sienna take point again?

  I said:

  (Greg will takes point this time, travel order is Greg leading, Taran and Aren as his flank, and Sienna keeping an eye out as their rear.)

  ChatGPT said:

  Greg tightens his grip on his axe and shield, moving with careful, deliberate steps through the underbrush. The others follow in formation, their movements masked by the lingering shroud of Pass Without Trace.

  Sienna watches their rear, her keen eyes darting through the darkness for any signs of pursuit. Trevor and Aren stick close to Greg’s flanks, their weapons at the ready.

  The group inches their way around the clearing, moving toward a better vantage point to assess the shadows. The unnatural stillness of the undead near the tree makes Greg’s skin prickle. Even in death, creatures should not just stand like that.

  After a few minutes of circling, Greg spots a better position—a small ridge just beyond the clearing, giving them an elevated view. They could use it for reconnaissance or as a staging point for an ambush.

  Does Greg take the ridge, or does he push forward to get even closer to the mysterious figures?

  I said:

  "We'll take that ridge for some more reconnaissance," Greg points out to the others, thinking they can maybe use it to draw whatever these shadows are away.

  ChatGPT said:

  Greg signals for the others to follow him up the ridge, keeping his movements slow and steady to avoid any unnecessary noise. The incline isn’t steep, but the ground is uneven, with scattered roots and loose dirt threatening to give away their position if they aren’t careful.

  As they reach the top, the vantage point gives them a clearer look at the scene below.

  The clearing:

  The undead remain still, encircling the massive dead tree like silent sentinels. Their bodies—some skeletal, some rotten—show no sign of the mindless shuffling Greg would normally expect.

  The shadows:

  Closer now, Greg sees them more clearly—cloaked figures lurking at the far edge of the clearing. They’re positioned as if studying the undead, but their movements are too precise, too alive to be mindless creatures themselves.

  One of them shifts, revealing a glint of metal beneath their darkened cloak.

  Armed.

  This changes things.

  Greg now faces a choice—

  Observe longer to gather more details about the cloaked figures.

  Try to lure them away for an ambush.

  Engage now while they remain unaware of his party.

  What’s the call?

  I said:

  (After the party's repositioning up this ridge, how much time left now with the Pass Without Trace?)

  ChatGPT said:

  With the time spent moving and repositioning, there would likely be about 5 to 10 minutes left on the Pass Without Trace. It's a tight window, so the party will need to make a decision soon on how to proceed before they lose the benefits of the spell's stealth boost.

  I said:

  "I don't think these blokes are undead," Greg notes from above.

  "They are either bandits, or necromancers admiring their handiwork."

  Greg thinks on how to gain their attention to see their reactions-

  "Sienna, loose an arrow their way. But try not to hit them, on the off chance they might be a friendly."

  "Everyone else find a good spot to hide. If they make their way here to investigate, then we can spring a trap on them." Also Greg thinks it would be worth the effort for Sienna to set that hunter's trap she brought along on the footpath here before firing an arrow.

  ChatGPT said:

  Sienna quietly nods and begins preparing her bow as Greg lays out the plan. She moves with careful precision, making sure the area is secure for setting the hunter’s trap on the footpath. Her experience as a ranger serves her well as she places the trap where it could easily catch a potential bandit or necromancer in their path.

  With the trap set, Sienna nocks an arrow, aiming for a spot near the group of figures, just enough to send a warning shot that doesn't necessarily hit them but will get their attention.

  Meanwhile, the rest of the group moves to hide. Greg, Aren, and Trevor pick strategic positions to remain unseen while Sienna takes her shot.

  Once ready, Sienna releases the arrow, sending it into the air with a soft whoosh.

  The group then waits, hoping for the reaction they expect—or perhaps a sign of what these figures are truly after.

  I said:

  (Please continue with the result.)

  (Also after firing the shot, Sienna would retreat back to the party position to take up a hiding spot.)

  (Since we are taking Hide actions, we should be able to roll another stealth check with Pass Without Trace still up to better avoid detection.)

  ChatGPT said:

  Sienna releases the arrow, which flies through the air and lands with a soft thud in the dirt just short of the group, but close enough to attract attention. The figures standing near the large dead tree immediately shift, their attention turning toward the noise.

  One of them, the one in the front, begins scanning the area, slowly pacing back and forth. After a few moments, it seems the group is more interested in finding the source of the noise than reacting aggressively.

  As Sienna retreats back to her spot and everyone hides, you hear the rustling of footsteps approaching—slow and deliberate. The figures are clearly cautious, possibly expecting some sort of ambush. The tension rises as they move closer to the area where the trap was set.

  Now, with the party hidden and Pass Without Trace still active, you all make another attempt to stay undetected.

  Sienna, Trevor, Aren, and Greg each roll for stealth. Let's proceed with those rolls:

  Rolls for Stealth:

  Sienna: 17 (rolled 7 + 10 Pass Without Trace)

  Trevor: 15 (rolled 5 + 10 Pass Without Trace)

  Aren: 19 (rolled 9 + 10 Pass Without Trace)

  Greg: 29 (rolled 19 + 10 Pass Without Trace)

  The party settles into their positions, their movements hushed and careful. The figures on the ridge do not seem to notice the party's re-positioning, as none of the party members make a sound.

  The one in the front of the group, still scanning the area, stops and looks toward the path where Sienna fired her arrow. After a tense moment, they begin walking toward it cautiously, the others following suit.

  They are moving in the direction of your trap, but it appears they are still uncertain, not entirely sure whether they're dealing with an ambush or something else entirely.

  What would you like to do next?

  I said:

  Greg thinks these guys need a little more encouragement and begins to make mock growling noises. However with his high stealth roll and hidden position, can we rule as it comes off as faint echos that seem worth investigating?

  If they are necromancers, then they would likely be drawn to the noise to kill it.

  If bandits, then they would still likely be drawn to the noise to kill it, since they seem to be camping out here for a reason and wouldn't want a possible hostile beast around.

  (Of course, this is still guesswork from Greg's end but it is the best course of action he can think of.)

  ChatGPT said:

  Greg quietly makes his growling noises, keeping them low and subtle, just enough to sound like a faint echo in the distance. His position is perfect, and with his high stealth roll, the sounds barely make their way to the figures near the tree. However, those sounds are still enough to draw attention—whether from curiosity, caution, or the desire to neutralize a potential threat.

  The figures freeze as the growls reach their ears. The one in the front turns sharply toward the direction of the sound, signaling to the others. They start moving toward the source of the noise, trying to determine its origin. There’s a mix of caution and readiness in their movements now. It's clear they think there’s something lurking nearby, and they're preparing for a confrontation, though they don’t seem sure what exactly it is.

  You can tell that Greg’s trick has worked—these figures are being drawn to the noise, either to investigate or to eliminate a perceived threat. As they move closer, you can tell that they’re heading straight toward the area where the trap is set.

  The group now seems to be making their way closer to your position. With their attention drawn by the sounds, they’re likely to encounter your trap or spring into an ambush.

  Would you like to proceed with the trap or adjust your plan now that they’re coming closer?

  I said:

  (We will wait for them to potentially trigger the trap.)

  ChatGPT said:

  The figures continue to advance, making their way toward the sound that Greg created, eyes scanning the area around them. They walk with purposeful caution, likely expecting something dangerous to pop out at any moment.

  As they approach the spot where Sienna’s trap is set, you all hold your breath, waiting for them to cross the threshold.

  And then... one of the figures steps directly onto the trap.

  A loud snap echoes in the still air as the trap springs, catching their foot with a tight, painful grip. The figure lets out a surprised yelp as it stumbles, causing the others to stop and look in its direction.

  "Watch where you're stepping!" one of the others hisses, quickly moving to free the caught figure.

  This brief commotion is all the distraction you need. You see their attention shift, as their focus is drawn to the trap. They’re now a bit more vulnerable, having made a misstep, and are caught off guard for just a moment.

  The opportunity is yours—do you want to strike now, or wait until they recover from their moment of surprise?

  I said:

  (Now that they are closer, can Greg perceive who they might be dealing with before they decide to rush in and kill?)

  ChatGPT said:

  With the group now closer and in a better position for a closer look, Greg can make out more details about the figures.

  They’re wearing dark, weathered clothing, though it doesn’t appear to be the typical uniform of necromancers or any obvious cultist garb. Their clothes are practical and designed for travel through the wilds, with leather armor and cloaks to help them blend into the surroundings. They each carry a variety of weapons: some long knives, a couple of short swords, and one of them even has a crossbow slung across their back.

  One of the figures, the one who was caught in the trap, has a jagged scar running down their face, and their eyes are narrowed in irritation as they try to free themselves. There’s a certain toughness to their demeanor—these aren’t novice adventurers, but seasoned survivors.

  From the way they carry themselves, Greg can tell they’re likely bandits or mercenaries rather than necromancers. They’re tense, aware of their surroundings, and move with calculated precision. No signs of magic are immediately obvious, and none of them seem to be wielding arcane implements or wearing arcane symbols.

  Greg would also notice that, while they seem like they're ready for a fight, they haven’t drawn any weapons yet. Instead, they're focused on the trap. They don’t seem to be looking for trouble… but they’re definitely not welcoming anyone either.

  With this information in mind, Greg has a clearer idea of who he’s dealing with. What does he want to do now?

  I said:

  Greg will immediately rush out, battleaxe and shield in hand to appear as menacing as possible. "Okay the gig is up," he says only loud enough to be heard. Not wanting to draw the undead in the clearing over just yet.

  Greg would like to make an intimidation check here to try and scare them.

  ChatGPT said:

  Go ahead and roll for Greg's Intimidation check.

  I said:

  I rolled a 12. With mods it becomes an Intimidation 15.

  ChatGPT said:

  Got it! With a 15 on the Intimidation check, Greg's menacing appearance and booming voice clearly make an impression.

  The figures halt, eyes widening at the sudden appearance of the towering half-orc barbarian. The one nearest to Greg takes a cautious step back, their hand instinctively gripping the hilt of a sword, while the others exchange wary glances. It's clear they're uncertain whether Greg is a threat to be neutralized or an ally to be won over.

  One of them, likely the leader, raises a hand to signal the others to hold their ground. His voice rings out, calm but firm, "We weren't expecting anyone. You're far from the main road, and not many come out here." He studies Greg closely, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

  They seem momentarily thrown off balance, but it doesn't look like they'll back down easily just yet. The trap is set, but they aren't panicked—ready for a possible confrontation.

  What would you like to do next?

  I said:

  "Who are you lot. You don't appear to be bandits."

  I picture at this point the rest of the party would appear to back Greg up.

  Sienna nocking an arrow.

  And Trevor and Aren appearing from their stealthed positions, weapons drawn.

  The quick turn in scene would be quite imposing for these fellows.

  ChatGPT said:

  The figures freeze as the rest of the party emerges from their positions, surrounding them like a tightening noose. Sienna's arrow is aimed directly at the closest target, while Trevor and Aren reveal themselves, weapons drawn and poised for action. The sudden shift in the atmosphere is palpable, and the tension mounts quickly.

  The leader's eyes dart to each of you, assessing the situation. He stays calm but clearly uncomfortable. "No need to get jumpy," he says, his voice laced with a hint of annoyance. "We're not here for trouble—at least, not with you." He shifts his weight, his hand still on the hilt of his sword, but no longer pulling it free. "I’m Cael. We’re just... trying to make sure things stay under control."

  His words are carefully chosen, but his eyes flick to the clearing, where the ominous dead tree still looms. The air between you all crackles with uncertainty, and it's clear that they're not exactly friendly, but neither are they outright hostile... yet.

  "Care to explain what 'under control' means out here?" Greg would ask, his grip tightening on his battleaxe as he keeps his stance steady, waiting for a response.

  I said:

  "So you are bandits then," Greg growls with heavy emphasis, taking one-step forward.

  "Explain. Fast." A very implied threat to quickly explain their hand in all this.

  ChatGPT said:

  Cael holds up his hands in a placating gesture, clearly sensing the rising tension as Greg steps forward with his imposing presence. "Alright, alright," he begins, speaking quickly now, trying to avoid provoking further aggression. "We're not bandits—at least, not in the way you're thinking." He glances nervously at the rest of the group, clearly trying to decide how much to reveal.

  "We've been hired by someone," he continues, his voice dropping a little. "Some... powerful individual. He's interested in what’s happening out here, in the deadwood, and the undead." His eyes flick toward the clearing, his discomfort growing. "We’ve been trying to... control the situation. Keep things quiet. Some of the undead are just mindless, but others are, well, more dangerous. We're trying to keep things from getting worse. That tree—it’s like a beacon for the undead. And there’s something else, something darker, pulling them in."

  He takes a breath, looking back at the party. "We’re not here to fight you. We’re just... trying to manage the situation. You look like you know what you're doing. If you're here for the same reason, we can make a deal."

  His words hang in the air, a tentative offer laced with tension. It seems the situation could go either way.

  I said:

  Greg listens to Cael's frantic answer.

  "We'll you lot did a very poor job at managing this situation," he says with a light mocking tone with the half-orc listing off all the zombie encounters he has had since entering these woods, a few days back.

  "But I am in the mood to make a deal ..." here Greg will look to the party thinking these goons may have some use.

  ChatGPT said:

  Greg sizes up the ragged trio of supposed ex-bandits, their anxious expressions flickering in the dim light. The half-orc's words hang in the air, carrying the weight of a challenge and an opportunity.

  Cael swallows hard. "A deal? What kind of deal?" he asks cautiously, his eyes darting between Greg and the rest of the party.

  Trevor folds his arms, keeping his sword visible. "Depends on whether you're actually worth keeping around," he mutters.

  Aren tilts his head, considering. "If you’ve got any useful information or skills, now would be the time to make them known."

  Sienna, still gripping her bow, watches for any sign of deception.

  Greg keeps his stance firm, waiting for Cael's response. What exactly does he have in mind for this crew?

  I said:

  "Look here. We're here to deal with this situation proper." Greg leaves no doubt to Cael what his party's intention here is.

  But the barbarian lets up a little, lowering his battleaxe yet still keeping his shield up as a precaution. He then motions for Trevor and Aren to assist the one caught in the hunter's trap.

  "... and try to bandage that up for him so he doesn't stumble about."

  While the first aid is being administered, Greg will motion for Cael to follow him aside where he will order in no uncertain terms-

  "You'll hang back with our ranger pal. Guard her flank, call out if any other undead come from the brush. Just make yourselves useful."

  "And if you try any funny business with her," and the half-orc gestures with his thumb slashing across his throat as a very clear threat.

  ChatGPT said:

  Cael nods quickly, the threat not lost on him. "Got it. No funny business," he mutters, raising his hands slightly in submission. He watches as Trevor and Aren work to free and patch up the injured bandit, the man gritting his teeth but staying silent through the pain.

  Sienna, still wary, narrows her eyes at Greg. "You're saddling me with them?" she asks, not entirely convinced.

  Greg gives a firm nod. "Just keep 'em in line. If they run, shoot 'em."

  Sienna exhales sharply through her nose but relents. "Fine. But if they get in my way, I’m still shooting 'em." She then gestures for Cael and his crew to move near her position, keeping her bow half-raised as a warning.

  With the situation managed for now, Greg turns back to the rest of the party. "Alright. Now let’s get to work."

  (What’s the next move? Are you advancing toward the tree or gathering more intel first?)