Fighting the Fog
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Therean Ferather, cleric of the Winged Mother, seeks the guidance of his Goddess to direct winds to blow the fog clear of the forested land that used to be the Hoaran Hold, and the Romani Redoubt before that. In his prayers, he seeks to learn more of the nature of the unnatural fog, whether it is magical ((spellcraft 16, iirc)), and what spells and dispels he can call upon to dissipate it.
He considers the following spells:
Wind Blast (Aerdrian Spell)
Control Winds (PnP Air Doman?)
Control Weather (PnP Air Doman?)
Greater Dispel
Summon Huge Air Elemental (Narfell Animal Domain)Therean would use the spell Speak With Avians to help him protect the area's wildlife (if any are braving the mysterious fog).
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_With any wayward avains warned of high winds and the focus given to dismissing and blowing away the fog, the unnatural thickness of it gives way to the rising winds raised by the prayers to Aerdrie. The ropes prove to be unneeded as the fog dissipates rather quickly over all. The dispels seem to be working since the fog has not thickened since, even though some people mutter that it's still like soup. Old timers may make mention that the fog is at least back to its natural thickness.
Anyone with a decent spot (dc15) would have noticed that as the casting first started, there was a figure moving in the mist further in to the camp. Some sort of staff leaning at a jaunt angle on his shoulder, and (dc20) as he moved away some would swear the man was blindfolded though he moved ably enough._
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_Any with attunement to the weave recognize the fog is indeed magic in nature, and should be dispellable in theory, though there is debate on why the fog has been lasting as long as it has. Anyone foolish enough to cast Detect Magic and look at Cera's Tree runs a risk of being blinded for a few rounds due to the sheer brightness of the glow that comes from it. Everything else is very much viewable.
The constraints of the fog are within the village bounds itself, and do not extend far past except in occasional wisps that pull back in to the main mass quickly. There appears to be no harm to anyone who enters it, besides the risk of a stubbed toe or nose.
The birds of the area have been staying out of the fog, though that is likely because animals have common sense and flying in thick fog is not wise._
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As the fog swirls and drifts, a quick eye would spot the form of a tall silver haired elf. He stands quietly at ease and watches over his friends, ready to lend his strength to Ama and Therean if they have need. He also has a length of rope and some grapples just in case
(22str)
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María has spent some time in the camp every week. She sits quietly in the middle of the camp with Kitty next to her. When she's not reading from her spellbook, she is quiet and silent, eyes open but absent.
What she's doing there like that? The only times she moves from the spot is to leave, or to help those that are there rebuilding the place. She doesn't initiate conversation with anyone, though she'll respond and chatt with anyone that initiates one with her.
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_Sirion makes his presence known, but looks around for the root cause of the fog rather than the fog itself. He does not chastise Therean for his approach, but nor does he endorse the action. He makes it clear he is only aiding them, but does so alone, without asking for assistance even from Ardent, the one Shesae with whom he is the closest, wandering through the area, casting several divinations, some inside the fog, some outside the fog. He takes the shape of a raven and flies over the camp to map the fog's constraints, all the while considering several questions. Is it a spell? A natural occurrence due to a shift in weather patterns and the presence of an unknown geological element? If it is intentional, what was its purpose? If it removed, what is the consequence? Is it even truly fog at all?
These are the things he considers, deliberates, and searches out._
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Quietly their loyal and protective companion Makaio moves around them unnoticed in the forest searching for any danger that might be lurking near.
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Hardly ever far from the priest, a blonde elf stands near a large tree, rope at her feet. She watches over him as he prays for guidance and prepares herself for the windy storm that may come.
