Rollo Moonrock

Rollo Moonrock is a halfling druid. He has a gemstone that looks like a lump of coal when examined by anyone but him.

The following is an excerpt from the writings of the famous, some would say infamous, author, historian and scholar, Lord No. It is taken from his extensive works regarding interviews of druids of various races. This is from the series Small Folk- Children of the Green Volume 1 – The Halflings. Note that much of the author's descriptive embellishments have been omitted in order to make this re-telling suitable for the younger students. Here he has asked one of his book subjects to give an account of himself.

I am Rollo Moonrock. My mother birthed me in the night of an exceptionally bright full moon, the supermoon. I grew up in a halfling forest village of Oakmeadow. It is a located by a stream surrounded by an immense forest, hidden from most of the world. There is a belief in Oakmeadow that children born under such a moon are touched by the Green. Be as it may, my childhood was a joy, as were all the children's. The village raised us. We are forest halflings after all. The village lives in harmony with the forest, its plants and animals. The local druids ensure that and protect the village and its people. In return, they would come every year to examine those children born under the supermoon. Those of age five years, who pass their test, are taken to be trained. There is no sorrow in this. Quite the opposite. The village celebrates knowing that those selected will be cared for and become acolytes, future Children of the Green; that some would return to be Guardians of the village. The Circle completes itself. And as you know, I was one of the selected ones. The selected spend another five years with the local Circle, learning to sense the Green, letting it grow inside them. Then they are sent off to learn under the tutelage of three different well-experienced druids of different Circles for another five years each. And so, at age twenty-five, one is sent off on Self Stride.

I do not know if my halfling luck played a role or if it was just chance, but my tutors were, well shall we say, renowned. My first was the wood elf, Nera Aquilae, she who for unknown reasons answered to the name of 'Bug-Woman'. She would laugh at that, sigh, and exclaim "oh MooGoo!. Good MooGoo." She welcomed me unconditionally. It was my first exposure to other races. From her I learned the usage of the art of the spells gifted by the Green. But more importantly, she taught me the practice of humor to maintain morale and lighten any forbearance. She would rub my head and say "well little budling; her term for me; you may not have the Song of Shanneenah but you are learning to be prankful, feyish as needed." My heart broke when at fifteen, I left for my second tutor. I cried shamelessly as she hugged me. "A circle has no end, little budling" she remarked. "This not an end."

My second tutor was human. The Mistress of the North Wind herself. Ah, I see you are familiar of whom I mean. Indeed, I do speak of Raven Battlestar herself. At her druidic monastery I learned two important skills: mental concentration and physical weapon usage. I became proficient in weapons favoured by children of the Green. Pardon? Yes, it was during my adolescent years. I told you that. And yes, Raven favoured to train female acolytes above males. No, it was not sexual. It was more like she was intolerant of males. So yes, the training was more difficult for me and yes, I was surrounded, lived with, and trained with female acolytes of all races. Well yes. If you must know I did lose my virginity there. No. I will not describe any of my escapes during the five years I was there. You must be joking! Never!! How can you even think that! Your mind must think in the most perverse ways. Only with acolytes. Now let me finish! At the age of twenty, I left for my third tutelage. Yes there was a lot of hugging and crying from all around. The whole assemblage were friends if not more. Well, The North Wind Mistress did not show much emotion. It is her way, always stoic. She just padded me on the shoulder and said "Well done. Rollo. Well done. For you." She handed me this, my raven feather, my spell focus. All knew this indicated that she was congratulating and graduating me.

I left for my third and last sponsorship with great trepidation. My last tutor was a famed Tree-Talker. My fear was I could not live up to her expectations. It turned out to be a false fear. She took me under her wing, treated me as one of her own. This one you are most familiar with, Lord No, as you have chronicled much about her heroic granddaughter. Ah, I now see you realize of whom I refer. Indeed, Ulianna Vulpae, better know to the world by the title given to her by her famous granddaughter, the name of 'Granmar'. From her I acquired techniques in sensing what plants were aware of, what kinds of situations called for which forms of wild shapes, how to quickly change forms. The five years passed quickly. I became one with the Green. My eyebrows turned green, as did the lower right half of my head hair, as you now see. A celebration was held. With her last kiss on my forehead, I set off on my Self stride. Along the way, I fell in with a small group. Group Name? We had none. We were just a bunch of random dudes.

Chapter 1

Rollo was given the nickname of "The Green" by his companions.

While on patrol, Rollo's entanglement spell proves to be very effective at slowing down the momentum of attacks by hostile creatures, such as the worgs, the ghouls, the orcs and the ogre.

On the journey back to Astera from the Trip Away Inn, Rollo is able to harvest enough herbs to use as raw materials to make two Potions of Healing at a later date.

At Banner's Brokeage, the Grimm and Drakara lure Banner's thugs outside by claiming someone is stealing the wagon. They both blast the first thug to appear. Amber shouts to Rollo to use his healer's kit to stabalize them since killing someone (even thugs) in town could be frowned upon and get a bunch of random dudes in trouble.

In the cellar of the Overcobble Pub, the swarm of rats engulfed Amber, flaying her flesh. Rollo and Dreet the Kobold both use healing word to heal Amber.

The Grimm was able to harvest a poison sack from one of the large spiders in the cellar. The Grimm gave it to Rollo so he could craft a vial of antitoxin later.

Chapter 2

Rollo is a druid of the Circle of the Moon.

Chapter 3

Rollo purchased from Knull a Gray Bag of Tricks (uncommon) for 385 gp. Although he did have to borrow 25 gp from Amber and 25 gp from Yotte to afford it. Rollo repaid Amber by brewing her a Potion of Healing. He still has to brew a Potion of Healing for Yotte to pay him back, and those herbs he misidentified should not effect it at all.

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Rollo snapped awake. Away from "civilization" he was a light sleeper, the Green never dormant. About him was commotion. The camp was aroused. Amber was now foot nudging the snoring Grimm, not gently. Some would call it a kick. The parrot squawked, defecated. The odor more awaking the Grimm than Amber's endeavours. Cursing all gods fond of parrots, the rough dwarf wiped the mess from his forehead. "I'm up!", he snarled, showing amber his teeth.

The parrot always bewildered Rollo. It was not trained, not a companion, not a summoned and not a cohort. So what was the Grimm doing with said parrot? As a child of the Green and because it involved an animal, he would investigate, but when there was time.

He joined Weaver at the edge of the encampment, the campfire behind him. It's light bright enough to use his low light vision. He could just make out two large humanoid shapes at the edge of his sight. Hima was already firing arrows at them. Her wood elf vision better in the dark. "What?" he questioned his fellow halfling. Last night it had been two owlbears attacking. Tonight? "Ogres" was the wizard's reply.

Now Rollo had no particular feelings, good or bad, for ogres. They were not undead. They belonged in the 'circle of life'. If they left him alone, he would leave them alone, unless like anything else, they broke the laws of the Green. They were attacking, he would defend. He took in the distance between the ogres and them. "Where do you want their approach" he asked Weaver. The other halfling looked around. "See if you can get them to move over there." He pointed. By now Hima had loosed two more arrows. The others were all up and preparing themselves. "Will do. They will move unless they are truly stupid. In which case nothing else might be needed". Weaver nodded and moved to his indicated spot.

Rollo called upon the Green. The Green obeyed. New spiked growth, full of hardened thorns, pointed needles and prickles sprung from the ground, covering an immense area. So large that the only safe exit was to move to where Weaver wanted them.

One was smart and did so. The other was not and shouted an agony scream as the spike growth punched through into feet. More screams as it moved through the magical area to join its partner. Then it was Weaver's turn. Having them where he wanted, he spun arcane energy and cast a web. Spidery, rope thick sticky, silk-like web treads filled the space where the two ogres stood, wrapping around them as spider food. It would take them time to break free, if ever they did and slow them if they did. He turned to Rollo. "Bought you the time. Make it easy to finish them." The druid nodded and called upon the Green. Again answering, shades of green faerie fire shimmered and flickered, outlying the two humanoids. The light turned them into 'impossible to miss' targets.

By now the whole group was up and ready. Arrow, daggers, balls of flame, eldritch blasts, javelins, all shot at the ogres. It was over quickly. As the others went to examine the charred, blasted bodies, Drakara approached Rollo. "Another night, another encounter. I was hoping to see you wild shape." Rollo looked up at the tattooed half-orc.

"There was no need. Whenever a wizard and a druid synchronize, the battlefield is under their control."

"Still, I would have liked to see it. The reason being that the only times I have seen has been in dreams; dreams that that thing", she indicated Sirni, the sentient red metallic battleaxe now resting on Amber’s back, "forced us into. I wanted to compare the reality to the dream."

Then Rollo remembered. She had not been with the group when they had 'rescued the chicken eggs' and so missed his wild shaping. "As events become more dangerous, I am sure you will get your chance. They're coming back now and by the look on Amber's face, they did not find much (just two ogre pouches with 94 gp and 79 gp - not much). And that parrot just crapped again."

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Finally, Rollo had figured it out. The Grimm’s parrot. It began when he noticed the intractable dwarf incanting magic that, for him, unless he lied, which was not only possible but probable, should not have been doable. But then he spotted the Grimm’s Book of Shadows and the realization became clear. The book allowed him to cast spells a warlock should not have been able to. Parrot was a familiar! So that part was solved. What still mystified the druid, since the parrot was a magical spirit just in an animal form, why it had a need to defecate. And why only on the Grimm.

Chapter 4

Total Treasure