Bhaakon's Brinewall Legacy IC

[Bhaakon]

It's Sandpoint's worst kept secret that the Rusty Dragon serves the finest breakfast in town. Ameiko Kaijutsu's establishment may be best known as a raucous fest hall for braggarts and that suspicious class of roving mercenaries who call themselves "adventurers," but the proprietor's extensive library of exciting stories and deft hand at he samisen are eclipsed by her overstuffed pantry of exotic spices and encyclopedic command of delicious recipes. Not to mention the triple shot of brandy she managed to get into each serving of her special blintzes, a legendary hangover cure among locals.

But you aren't there for the food this day. Well, not just the food.

"Are you going to order something, or just sit there reading it for the hundredth time?" Huffs Ameiko in mock outrage, "you know that I'm not going to kick you out like that bent-copper busker--yet--but I could use the table. You're almost as bad as Shalelu." She waves an arm dramatically towards the elf, who takes up an entire table for four with her mug of tea and apricot tart (which you well know Ameiko wouldn't let her pay for).

The "it" holding your attention is a poster you founded nailed to the posting board in in front of the Dragon, your collective interest in the announcement having drawn you together to consider your options at a single table:


Wanted: Goblin Ears

In response to the threat of Licktoad raiders armed with fireworks and explosives, the honorable sheriff Hemlock hereby announces the restoration of the bounty on goblin ears. Ten pieces of gold will be paid for every right goblin ear presented at the Sandpoint guard garrison, with an additional sum of 300 gold paid for the head of the Licktoad goblin chief known as Gutwad. Special rewards will be dispensed for uncovering and destroying the source of the Licktoad's new-found arsenal.

The paper includes a crude drawing of "Gutwad," notable for his scarred right eye, comically bulbous belly, and garish spiked headdress.

[Bad Situation]

Kasuka weaves through the hustle and bustle of the inn like a leaf in the wind, setting down orders and leaving before any are able to notice the strange albino's presence. Though, if any of the patrons were paying attention they would be able to see that the slender young man has a rather absent-minded look about his face, occasionally stealing glances at both the sign posting as well as the innkeeper and her elven guest. "Only a few more minutes until my shift is over," he whispers in an imperceptibly dulcet tone.

[Bhaakon]

As Kasuka weaves between guests and tables on his way back to the kitchen with an arm load of dirty plates, a dark figure in a shadowed booth sticks a foot out to trip the distracted young waiter. Sandru can't help but chuckle in anticipation, giving Kasuka a split second to avoid the outstretched limb.

@Kasuka
DC13 Ref save, or trip

[Bad Situation]

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Kasuka pitches his load of dishes forward and leaps over the outstretched boot. Landing gracefully, he plucks the dirty dishes out of the air and collects himself with a proud sniff. Suddenly realizing his brief display of petty skill, Kasuka blushes in spite of himself and lowers his head shamefully. Without sparing a single glance behind him, he continues toward the kitchen where he had a fresh change of clothes waiting for him.

Behind closed doors, Kasuka sets at once to grumbling beneath his breath, possibly scaring away any of the inn's kept workers with his dark mutterings of swords and orifices. "What have I done to earn his enmity?" Once cleaned up and out of his work clothes, Kasuka quietly stalks out into Rusty Dragon and seeks out Shalelu and Ameiko.

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Despite the fury of Ameiko, Caleban continues to slowly chew his fat, hand rolled cigar, sending small tendrils of tobacco scented miasma around the table. Finally, he looks up


"Come on luv, you are hard on me. You know I ordered this morning. It is no good praying on a defenseless ghazdu (= male half orc) trying to read. I am outmatched.

But yes, bring me a tart and some strong tea. Strong I mean as his head is thick." pointing to Sandru in friendly gest.

Why am I here still? The road beckons. Koya needs me, or will need me, but I do not know how and why. And there is work to be done, always work to be done.
Still. Goblins hah? Not a bad way to start. And where is that peacock of a man Eirik? Exchanging witticisms with him and discussing plans would be good.

[Bhaakon]

Sandru whistles in spite of himself as Kasuka avoids the little prank, then turns back to his meal with a grin as he catches a few of the waiter's muttered threats. "Too easy... too easy to get to that one." he whispers to himself as Ameiko wheels and pegs the back of his head with a sweet bun.

"You're paying for that pastry, too. Sandru." She shouts.

Sandru turns back, his mouth curling open to deliver some no-doubt bitingly clever reply, but the sight of Ameiko, arm cocked back with a custard-stuffed tart in hand, shuts him up before he can start. "I'm sorry dear Caleban, but I'm afraid there are limits even to my brewing skills. You'll just have to settle for tea as strong as a donkey's skull."

Back across the room, Sandru has turned back to his meal, the back of his head still dripping honey frosting. Even across the crowded, smokey hall, you see that his shoulders are bouncing with quiet laughter.

[Bad Situation]

Silently, Kasuka stalks toward toward the table and takes a seat nearest to Shalelu. Eyes wearily flickering toward the half-orc, he nods politely and takes a sip of his tea. Best not to anger the patrons. Though the holy man of Desna was friendlier with Sandru than he would have liked, it was rather rude to assume so much of someone he knew so little off.

Never one to start off a conversation, Kasuka remains still unless spoken to and watches the rest of the inn out of the corners of his dull red eyes. Adventurers were tended to be finicky and pernicious, always on the lookout for some new scheme to strike it big. Dangerous, every one of them. Staring darkly at the Wanted papers, Kasuka thinks, "Adventurers are drawn to bounties like flies are to honey. If I were to resolve it, we would see less of these mercenary sorts wouldn't we?"

"And then perhaps Ameiko will think well of me for protecting her and the town..." Coughing, Kasuka stifles his blush and raises his cup of tea to hide the flow of blood rushing to his face.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

The usual quiet of the inn's stables was disturbed when one of the piles of hay up in the rafters began to move and stir. A sound, half mutter, half moan, rose as the hay began to wave and stir, as if the haystack had suddenly turned into the dreaded hay elemental. Or worse yet, a shambling haystack.

To the disappointment of any elemental- or aberration-seeking adventurer, however, the cause of the haystack's sudden animation became apparent when a ruffled-up head of dark hair stuck out of the stack. Following the head crawled out a lean young man in a half-robe of greys and blues over leather armor, all of his clothings and hair covered in errant stalks of hay and mussed up from sleeping in them.

Never... ever again, Eirik cursed to himself as he stretched and pulled out his harp from the pile. No more drinking with dwarves, he sighed as he cleaned up his precious instrument, strumming it a little to make sure it wasn't broken. Or were they gnomes? Gods, this always happened when he let people buy him drinks.

Might as well go inside and get my earful. Hopefully this time I didn't try and make it sound like Sandru was farting out The Merry Widows of Jol, the young bard thought to himself as he flung the harp to his back and made sure he hadn't left any of his possessions in the haystack. Taking a look at his dishevealed appearance he snapped his fingers and allowed the comfortable rush of magic to iron out his clothes and comb his hair and beard, even making sure his shirt was tucked in his trousers. He then climbed down the rafters and headed into the inn proper.

"Good morning, everyone!" Eirik Evensong declared with a broad smile as he stepped inside, hoping that someone might remember what happened last night. Or better yet, if everybody didn't. "I'm not late for breakfast, am I?"

[North_Ranger]

Oh, almost forgot... Sense Motive to see if Eirik should start running after... whatever happened the night before :smallbiggrin: [roll0]

And that minor magic trick? Prestidigitation.

[Bhaakon]

Ameiko's face look sours as the Ulfen bard staggers in, his useful spell unable to cover up the more physiological effects of the previous night. "Well that depends, Eirik," she states deadpan, "on whether you can pay the stabling fee."

"It's only a silver a night, but I don't think you've had your complementary oats and brush down yet. And before you go asking how I know, just who do you think dragged your sorry rear into the stall?"

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban looks at the general direction of Eiric when he walks in. he has taken a liking to the man, partly because he is what Caleban isn't in all the things that don't matter, while being like minded in the things that do.

Ah, here he is. Let 's see if he remembers yesterday. Or me tucking him in the haystack. And how does he do the cleaning up trick?

"Rise and shine, you overdressed peacock. Have a coffee on me, for your bravery, still being here. Dwarves remember for a long long time, and you agreeing to marry that merchant 's daughter was quite something. After a look at her, neighbor, I would have been halfway to Absalom by now."

[stack]

Lethos Far-wanderer

In the corner another elf quietly sits, eyes half-closed as he leans over his own cup of tea. The absence of cheap rotgut in it is a recent occurrence, to Ameiko's pleasure. She didn't lower herself to serve what the elf had been drinking until recently.

He had already seen the posting and now waited to watch the results. Already a crowd drawn to it, as always. Are any of them blooded? Or will they faint at the first stroke? No matter, I cannot pass on the gold. My journey will be expensive. And likely fatal, but that would be a relief in it's own way.

A whisper claws at the back of his mind, Goblins are weak, beneath you. Or beneath what you were. You have forgotten the dance, your arm is tired. Sing the blood song, become mighty.

He stands, ignoring the morning banter. He draws the fine ebon saber from his belt and balances it point down on the table. "I intend to hunt the beasts. Are any strong enough to follow?"

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

For his credit, Eirik at least had the decency to look ashamed. And Caleban's tale of woe only made him moan that much more. "You're... you're kidding, aren't you? Just a joke, right, Cal? Cal...?"

Sense Motive! [roll0]

Seeing not a flinch of a joke in the half-orc's face, Eirik actually turned pale - a most vivid shift, considering how he had gone from red-faced to green around the gills the night before. "Oh gods... You're not kidding, are you? Please tell me it wasn't one of the Vinder girls? Vem's already threatened to make meat pies out of me if I go within sight of either of them."

With shaking fingers, the bard pulled out a silver piece from his slim purse, and placed it on the bar. "Please tell me there's a caravan leaving town tonight."

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban stays serious for as long as he can, but the shaking of his shoulders becomes unstoppable after some seconds. A loud rumpling laugh erupts from his mouth, while miraculously, the cigar stays put.

'Mwamwahahahaha, that was worth it! That was worth help drag you into the stable yesterday! Mwahahahaha!"

Whipping his tears from his eyes, he turns to Ameiko

'Bring his majesty a strong coffee with a drop of whisky in. And some good bread and cheese for his stomach. I swear, that made my day."

Suddenly, the elf drinking in the other table sits up and sobers things up quickly. Caleban had seen him in town. Something odd about him. Some tale that needed telling. Finishing his tea and breakfast, Caleban eyes the man and puts the spent cigar down.

'You will need more than strength, I reckon. You will need fast hands for bowstrings, good eyes for the trails and at least a couple of clear heads. But I intend to hunt them myself. I am Caleban, by the way.

And this is Eirik. If I know him a bit, he will probably be joining us. What do you say, Eirik?"

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"GodDAMMIT, Cal!" Eirik blurted out, looking enraged as hell. "Do you have any idea what that just did to me?! Gorum's balls, I swear I well-nigh shat myself!" he ranted at the half-orc, even though his rage soon started to shake and give way to relieved laughter.

"I swear, one of these days I'll make you pay, you damn wise-ass", he laughed, wiping tears from his eyes as he joined the old prankster at his table. "And next time, get me to my bed instead. That is, unless Ameiko's decided I should permanently move to the stables..."

The appearance of the elven sword-master and his statement of going goblin-hunting made Eirik frown. He recalled having met this one before; ranting about a fire and a faraway land when the elf was drunk as a Caydenite minister. At least this time he was sober.

Which meant he was serious about his statement.

"Not before breakfast", the young Ulfen man stated as he poured himself some coffee. "But after that... sure. With any luck, this might be worth a ditty or two."

[stack]

"I am Lethos, called Far-wanderer. I doubt many songs will be written about a few goblins, unless you have a bent for comedy. I suspect others will be interested as well, so waiting for breakfast is reasonable." He sheathes his blade and strides to the bar, speaking quietly to Ameiko:

In Tien:"Not a mark on the table, don't worry. Any of these fools know which end of the sword to hold?"

[Thattaman]

Theodric sits with Sandru and laughs out loud as he sees what Ameiko throws at him. He watches Erik come forward remembering watching the man as he was thrown in the haystack. After hearing the elf announce his plan Theodric get to his feet, pulling Sandru with him. "We'll go with you. Won't we Sandru. It's time we did something like this and it's only goblins to fight. Ameiko you'd come with us wouldn't you? This place could do with 300 gold." He says in a jokey tone. "I'm probably too strong to help kill goblins but I'll give it a try and the money for hunting animals for an inn doesn't pay much, does it Ameiko. Come on Sandru we've got gobbos to kill."

[Bad Situation]

Upon sighting the Ulfen, Kasuka scowls and goes for a dinner knife immediately and trains his sharp, hawk-like eyes on the 'performer' as he put it. Before he is able to reproach Eirik however, he is interrupted by the sudden appearance of another elf. Idly he wonders if he is at all related to Shalelu. It was truly a sight to behold, an elf who could speak Tien and so fluently at that.

Tien:<This one, knows his way around a sword, I think. I am not particularly versed in war but I would like to think I know more than The Pig Man himself over there> he replies in perfectly accented Tien while gesturing to the bard.

[stack]

Lethos looks the pale youth over, eyes lingering on the weapon hanging at his side. He had seem him many times in the Dragon, but they rarely spoke. He leans in, speaking softly, minding his pronunciation,

Tien "Been some time since I have seen a blade in that style. Interesting. Friend of Ameiko's, right? You coming on this hunt?"

[Bad Situation]

Kasuka tilts his head to look at the elf before quieting, as if considering his response. <It is not a blade many are able to see...> comes his vague, if considerable reply.

[Thattaman]

Theodric looks confused as the two people speak in a strange language he'd rarely heard before. "Are you two coming then or are you going to spend the entire day speaking some strange language? Now, breakfast. I'll have your heartiest full breakfast, for a day out killing goblins."

[stack]

Lethos glances at Theodric. "<Uncivilized>. I have already declared my intent and no one appears to be leaving before breakfast, so the length of our conversation is of little matter."

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"Calm down, master Lethos", Eirik offered with a frown. The elf's eagerness to get into a fight was starting to irritate him. "One does not start a day of hard work without a good breakfast. And goblin-hunting is hard work, isn't it? Sit down and pour yourself a cup of coffee. We can discuss where to start looking. In fact..."

The dark-haired Ulfen got up and walked over to Shalelu. "Miss Andosana? May I trouble you for the briefest of moments? My comrades and I intend to help the good sheriff with his goblin hunt. Perhaps you would be willing to join us for breakfast and share your wisdom in the matter?"

Diplomacy, if need be: [roll0]

[Bad Situation]

Silently, Kasuka gestures to all of the Rusty Dragon's patrons, noting the more well-armed of the lot. <These kinds usually are...>

That said, he sets down his tea and nods at Theodric, "My name is Kasuka." The albino man speaks softly, making it difficult for anybody outside of his immediate vicinity to hear his voice over the din of the Dragon. He watches the ranger's response warily but says nothing to the effect before turning away, choosing simply to train his eyes on the tea.

[Bhaakon]

"You know, Eirik, goblin songs are pretty catchy. I think this excursion will be a fine learning experience for you. A real chance to hone your craft under the tutelage of your betters. Just be careful not to ask them for 'pointers' directly. The little buggers can be a bit enthusiastic when it comes to stabbing things." Ameiko fires off as she disappears into the back to fetch an arm load of food for the table

Sandru, finally cleaning himself off with an old handkerchief, gives Theodore a reproachful look (at least as much of one as he can muster while picking glaze and crumbs from his hair), "about time that we went trudging through the stinking muck after vermin and spare change? I know that *you* are short on cash, Theodore, but some of us have actual business to conduct. I'm sure Ameiko feels the same. At least until something truly interesting comes along..." He trails off as he sips his kahve.

Shalelu, for her part, seems all too eager to discuss the matter of killing goblins. If rumors hold true, it's both her profession and favorite pastime. She picks up her drink and half-eaten pastry and joins the burgeoning table of would-be bounty hunters. "I've a few moments to talk before my appointment with Sheriff Hemlock, what do you want to know?" She asks, as Ameiko emerges from the back with platters of sizzling breakfast meats, soft-boiled eggs, and spiced potatoes.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"Oh no, I'm not falling for that one again. Last time I started singing that goblin chant - how did it go again? Stab the dog and cut the horse, goblins eat and take by force - on a request, sheriff Hemlock told me the next time he'd arrest me for disturbing the peace", Eirik chuckled at Ameiko's quip. "But if I see any tangled branch with some cat gut strung on it, I'll bring it back so you can ditch that samisen of yours", he added with equal amount of good-natured teasing. Ameiko had not changed over the years, definitely not. She and Eirik still kept finding ways to throw these friendly darts at each other.

Joining others at the breakfast table, he picked one of the eggs and cracked its shell. "I think the best question would be where to start looking."

[Bhaakon]

Ameiko turns and sticks her tongue out at the Ulfen bard's crack, but declines to fire back. The Dragon is still teeming with patrons, and breakfast isn't going to serve itself.

Shalelu is much more responsive, "Well, that's the easy part. The Licktoads live in the Brinestump marsh, an hour's walk south of town. One day they settled down right on the old fishing trail and built a village. A couple of the old salts to demanded that the Sheriff roust them from their favorite fishing hole, but nothing ever came of it." As Shalelu explains, she produces an old scrap parchment and begins sketching a crude map with a stick of charcoal.

Imagine that this is a crude sketch

http://i1230.photobucket.com/albums/ee498/Bhaakon/Salelumap.jpg

"The real problem is what to do once you get there. There are probably three dozen of them holed up in that nest." She thinks for a moment before adding some more marks to the map. "I avoid the swamp when I can, but there might be others who can provide more detail. Walthus lives here, at the end of the new fish trail. People call him the warden of the swamp, but he's really just a bit of a loner who settled in Brinestump a few years past."

"And here is the witch's walk. Old Megus uses that trail, though no one has dared to follow her to her home. Superstitious folk say she'll curse intruders, steal their children, or some other nonsense. She's lived in Brinestump longer than I've been in Sandpoint, only coming to town for supplies every season or so. I can't remember when her last trip was, though."

[Bad Situation]

Kasuka watches the Ulfen man closely, growing weary of the man's tiresome smirk by the second. The man was acting as though he was far closer to Ameiko than was truly proper. He was not even courting her for goodness sake! Taking a quiet breath, the ninja slowly replaces the knife onto the table and forcibly restrains himself. The last time he'd 'scared away' a man flirting with Ameiko resulted in a confiscation of his wakizashi and a week's worth of his pay. Not that he ever needed money, given his late uncle's...tendencies.

Remembering his Uncle's last words, Kasuka shakes off the nostalgia and looks toward Shalelu. Without fully meeting eye contact he quietly intones, "Warden. A wise warrior attacks not the dark."

<And a clever warrior attacks from within...>

[stack]

Lethos hangs back, unsure of the other elf, letting the others do the talking. He cared little for the details of crossing the marsh anyhow, though kept an ear open for tactical information about the actual encampment.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

The Ulfen answered in kind to Ameiko's tongue, but pushed the matter no further. After all, his fair Ameiko took a great amount of pride in her beloved Dragon; to distract her when she was keeping up the inn's excellent standards would surely get him kicked out of the inn and into the stables permanently.

"He is certainly a viable option", Eirik said, wiping his fingers clean after eating the egg. "But I must wonder... With age, wisdom follows. And this woman, Old Megus?", he continued, turning his eyes back towards the fair-haired elf. "Superstitious folk say she is a witch. But what says Shalelu Andosana?" he asked with a smile.

[Bhaakon]

"Half of Sandpoint thinks I'm a witch, at least when Ameiko isn't in earshot." Says Shalelu between chuckles. "Townsfolk love to gossip, and to make stories of whole cloth when the half-truths run dry, which is part of the reason why I spend so much time in the wilds."

She takes a long draw from her tea cup, taking the time to consider the question more deeply. "Still, she's managed to live alone in that goblin infested swamp for decades. She must have something up her sleeve."

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban watches with great interest the other strangers going back and forth in a language he cannot understand. He then follows the briefing of Shalelu.

" I have been called many things in many places. Half of them were even true. So, I like to judge by my own standards. It is a shame more do not."

A glance at the general direction of the Tian speaking company.

"If she is truly a witch, she will also be dealt with. Though witches do not come to towns to resupply, I would think.

So. A plan presents itself already. We travel towards the general area of the march. Trying to locate either the hermit or the witch. If we come across any goblins, even better. If not, large parties leave behind tell tale signs. I can read them. So does, I would guess, Shalelu. We can scout. And plan from there.

Villages are immobile things. They may be holed up, but we know where they are. If it is a village, not all of them are combatants. An targeting the command structure in an immobile encampment can be very effective."

With that, Caleban sits back, rocking his chair under his bulk and reflexively fixing his belt.

[stack]

Sandru, finally cleaning himself off with an old handkerchief, gives Theodore a reproachful look (at least as much of one as he can muster while picking glaze and crumbs from his hair), "about time that we went trudging through the stinking muck after vermin and spare change? I know that *you* are short on cash, Theodore, but some of us have actual business to conduct. I'm sure Ameiko feels the same. At least until something truly interesting comes along..." He trails off as he sips his kahve.


Lethos scoffs. "Looks like you'll be needing spare change for a bath. You're business taking you farther than table, or do you have an important meeting with a bottle?"

[Thattaman]

Theodric's face looks morea and more irritated as Shalelu speaks. "I'm sure Shalelu would rather stay here than come hunting with us. She wouldn't be much use anyway, she can't shoot straight and hardly knows the difference between a goblin and an orc. We'd be more use without her and all her over planning. Everyone in this room know where the Brinestump marsh is and the rest would be more fun to have on a journey and would know which way you hold a bow." He says with a mocking smile as he looks at Shalelu. That's for the deer. He thinks to himself, It was my catch.

[Bad Situation]

Kasuka stares at the ranger bemusedly, caught off guard by the man's barely veiled insult. He didn't know much about Sandpoint's elven protector but he was sure she knew how to hold her bow at least. Deciding to keep quiet under matters that didn't concern him, Kasuka points at the crude charcoal maps and quietly indicates his preference, "Warden. Is closer." The sooner they got this quick excursion over with, the better. Besides, somebody living right next door to the Licktoads carried a certain kind of significance. "A hunter knows that to fear the predator is only one half of the deadly dance. It is wise to learn from the ever elusive prey."

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"And they call my people barbarians", Eirik said with a frown and a shake of his head at Theodric's cavalier attitude. "I don't know what barn they raised you in, good sir, but in my homeland it is considered a dire insult to speak ill of a guest who was shared your bread and salt. Or the table at the inn, in our case."

Having said that, Eirik turned to Shalelu. "My apologies. Rest assured, his sentiment is not shared. Your counsel has been wise, Miss Andosana, and for that we thank you. If you wish to join us in this merry hunt, we will welcome you. If not... then we hope we can find another way to repay your kindness."

"In any case", the Ulfen continued, looking at his comrades. "I suggest we finish breakfast and then gird our loins. It will be a decent walk to the marsh, so it would not be wise to waste daylight."

[Bad Situation]

Yousuke nods and hums his assent, "Mm." Without another word he stands and returns to the kitchen where he knows Ameiko is waiting. Having eaten in the wee hours of the morning in preparation for the day he had little desire to fill his stomach before such a dangerous task. Leaving Sandpoint to end the goblin threat was a troublesome matter, but if it meant Ameiko's safety so be it.

[Thattaman]

"My people are not barbarians!" He spits out the last word. "We built the greatest empire this world has ever seen and the language you are speaking. Shalelu is not my guest, we just happen to be in the same inn at the same time."

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"She is my guest in this table. So shut up or I'll turn your hair blue as an ice troll's arse", Eirik spat out, not a hint of humor in his voice as he stared Theodric down.

[Bhaakon]

Shalelu adopts a wan smile as Theodore questions her skills, but the level-headed ranger doesn't take the prideful neophyte's barbs too seriously. "Yes, you are quite an expert at holding a bow. Not so much at loosing the arrow." She nods significantly at the pair of antlers mounted above the fireplace in the Dragon's dining hall, an impressive 14-point rack from the very animal she'd shot out from under Theodore.

"Eirik is right, you will need all the daylight you can get with Theodore leading the hunt. With luck, the rest of you can keep him from stumbling into the maw of the soggy river monster and drag him back before sundown." She drains the last of her tea and pushes back from the table , "but I've a meeting with the sheriff. Perhaps I'll see you when you get back, and you can explain to me how a real tracker tells orcs from goblins." She departs, favoring Eirik with a polite fairwell nod.

[Thattaman]

Thoedric smiles as she leaves. "Well that got rid of her," He continues cheerfully, "Let's go kill some goblins."

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban looks at the various barbs and insults going around with a bemused smile, only frowning when the tension really goes up. Looking somewhere over the shoulder of Theondric, he says

"This was uncalled for, neighbor. I take it that your empire was not built on collaboration, if you used your language for insulting. Probably why it is now in ruins. But your feelings, your tongue to govern.

But what is done now is done. Why don't we hole up all this nice hostility and vent it to the goblins? It is a shame Shalelu will not be joining us. We could have used an extra pair of eyes and hands. I hope yours are as good as you say, neighbor." The last was directed towards Theodric.

"So. We meet again here in an hour? And the plan is we intend to find this Warden and the Witch, in that order, unless we stumble on the goblins?

I suggest you do not eat too heavy. Pack any food for the evening, otherwise the road will seem endless."

[Bhaakon]

I'm going to assume that everyone took Eirik's advice and departed to "gird your loins." So I'm going to advance things a bit to keep it moving. If you want to continue bickering in character, though, feel free.

Ameiko gets her wish as the group abandons the table to the next round of diners. Swords are belted on, armor buckled, and packs shouldered with some alacrity, and the five of you are gathered back at the Rusty Dragon in about half an hour.

The march out of Sandpoint is quick and dusty, with the late-summer heat and a steady off-shore breeze turning the bone-dry dirt streets into a breeding ground for dust devils. Mercifully, the wind slackens off as you cross over the Turandorak River and head south along the Lost Coast Road.

Goblin attacks have lead wise travelers and fisherman alike to avoid the area, and you make good time on the empty road. The sun is still three palms from its apex when you reach the high moors at the northern edge of Brinestump swamp. The height gives you a good view across the marsh to the steep bluff at its southern boundary, but the dense mass of cypress, willow, and oak growing over the delta below effectively screens anything in the marsh from view.

Up ahead, a wooden inscribed with a doodle of a fish marks the head of a well-used footpath--likely the "New Fish Trail" marked on Shalelu's map. It dives straight into the wall of vegetation at the edge of the swamp, like a mine carved out of the bracken.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

Eirik had packed lightly, taking only the essentials with him in his backpack. And while some might question his choice to take his harp with him, a bard was as likely to leave his instrument behind as a wizard his spellbook or a warrior his sword. On the long walk down the Lost Coast Road, he did put on a little show to pass the tedium, singing from the Song of the Sea Queen that chronicled the famous raid by White Estrid and her Ulfen ships down the coastline of Avistan, all the way to Absalom. And if such tales of heroics proved too heavy in the summer sun, he resorted to the Ballad of Brave Sir Robert, "a Taldan tale just for you", he added with a grin to Theodoric.

By the time they reached the fork in the road, it was clear that Sir Robert was about as brave as a panic-prone hen. Or as Eirik described the knight's legendary encounter with the dreaded Three-Headed Ettin of Palin's Wood:

Brave Sir Robert ran away,
Bravely ran away, away.
When danger reared its ugly head, he bravely turned his tail and fled.
Yes, brave Sir Robert turned about
And gallantly, he chickened out. Bravely taking to his feet,
He beat a very brave retreat,
Bravest of the brave, Sir Robert.

He is packing it in and packing it up
And sneaking away and buggering up
And chickening out and pissing off home,
Yes, bravely he is---

"Huh", he said as he let the description of Sir Robert's expeditious retreat fall away. "It appears we must make a decision here. Do we follow the Lost Coast Road further south and seek the wisdom and counsel of Old Megus, or turn here and try and bargain with this self-appointed Warden?", he said, thrumming his fingers against the back of his harp. "Personally I think we should seek the witch, but I'll submit to the decision of those wiser than me. Cal?"

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban ate a light lunch and picked up a much larger one for later. He was ready to go far earlier that the one hour he had asked. 15 minuted before the party left, Caleban was on the trail, kneeling down on one knee.

"Desna, Lady of the Stars, bear me in your bosom. I will be walking this path, keeping it clear in your name. I will be fighting in the night, reclaiming it for your starlight. Walk with me a while, bless my blade if I use it, and carry me on if I fail."

With that, Caleban scrawls Desna 's sign in the dirt of the road and joins the others.

During the trip, Caleban as always enjoyed Eirik 's songs, laughing at the Taldan jest. He laughs heartily and passes him the waterskin when he is over.

"Eirik is right. It is time for a decision. I would say we do both. I am a firm believer in alliances. So let us go to see the Warden and perhaps ask him about the old woman. And then let us go see the old lady and see what she has to say.

But first of all, let us see what the path itself tells us"


Caleban walks a bit down the path, trying to see if anything has passed here recently. His eyes focus and his face becomes a mask of concentration.

Survival [roll0]
Nature [roll1]
Perception [roll2]

[Bad Situation]

Kasuka draws his blade at the appearance of the shrine and wields it in a reverse grip. They were nearing the goblin camp now and even if they weren't confronting them just yet, knowing they were so nearby put him on edge. Having zoned out the bard's music for so long, Kasuka blinks when he realizes that the Ulfen man was now speaking to the party. Scanning the opening of their path, Kasuka points toward the deeper dwellings of the marsh and softly directs them toward the Warden, "If she does not desire visitors, we should not bother her." No matter their urgency, it was rude to expect so much from their elders. If the 'witch' wished for solitude in the marsh, then it was not their business to intervene where they were not wanted. The Warden seemed more promising, as far as he was concerned. Somebody who lived so close by to the goblins would know where they lived and what the lay of the land was like. This of course, goes unsaid as he quietly gazes into the swamp.

[Bhaakon]

Caleban explores a short way up the winding path, but the damp earth of the trail only reveals where the local game has crossed. A few deer, the sweeping belly-groove of a large constrictor, even the hopping pattern of a particularly fat bullfrog. The few recognizable human-size tracks are old and indistinct, and the fresh sprouts and creeping vines making inroads into the exposed dirt suggest that the trail hasn't seen any traffic in a couple weeks.

[Bad Situation]

Keeping his steady gaze on the inner recesses of the marsh, Kasuka quietly informs the group of his opinion. "Strange, that the trail goes cold. For what reason has the Warden neglected such an oft-used trail?" Even Old Megus left the marsh to resupply in Sandpoint on occasion, meaning the marsh could not sustain a human being on its own. For a man of mundane application like the Warden to become so withdrawn was curious. Surely he visited the town more often than the tracks indicated. Were there alternative routes to and from Sandpoint to consider?

This was a worrying thought, as far as the Rusty Dragon was concerned. Now curious as to what their man had to say about the marsh's security, Kasuka slowly stalks forward before turning around and tilting to head to the side, watching for the group's reaction with a look on his face that seems to ask, "Well. what now?"

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

After studying the trail and sharing the results of his inquiry, Caleban stands up, gazing up at the sky by reflex. Fixing his belt, he says

"I say we go and visit the man and the witch. Things have changed and maybe the need help, Who would know? We can apologize later, if they didn 't."

Something in the way he says it shows that he does not really believe it.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"Agreed", Eirik said with a nod as he took out his dented old shortbow, crafted years ago by his mother's kin in Grungir Forest. Carefully he attached the bowstring, the decorated wood creaking a little from the tension. "Hey Taldan... Do you want to lead the way? I'll watch out for any three-headed ettins."

[Bhaakon]

With a rough consensus established, the group of would-be goblin slayers forges bravely down the New Fish Trail.

The blaring light of the midday sun fades to an emerald glow as you pass under the sheltering cover of dense vegetation, but it's little relief in the lank, steamy air of the swamp. The atmosphere wrings the sweat from every pour, a smell as good as a dinner bell for the multitudes of buzzing insects looking to sop up the salty runoff or tap a vein for a blood meal. It's not long before you've gathered your own personal cloud of gnats and mosquitoes.

Twenty minutes of miserable trudging along the boggy, narrow trail finds you standing before a rather suspect-looking bridge. Its uneven deck of moss-covered planks spans a stagnant waterway, and the only supports are a pair of slim timbers that sag halfway to the water's surface.

[stack]

Lethos remains distant for the journey thus far. Sometimes others spy his lips moving silently as we walks with his eyes half-shut, hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

The discovery of the bridge seems to earn his attention, however. "The bridge seems more perilous than the waters it spans. Is such a crossing worth risking to keep our feet dry?"

normal weekend posting issues, didn't have time for more than 1-liners in the OOC. Fortunately Lethos is not the overly chatty type, so he can just be mysterious when necessary.

[Bad Situation]

Kasuka squints his sharp hawk-like eyes, scanning the bridge for immediate structural defects and then examines the surroundings for anything that might aid in their crossing. Turning back to the others in the group he closes his eyes and says, "If there is no other alternative I will cross the bridge alone and secure a line to aid our passing." It went without saying that he was very likely the lightest hand in their band. And if anything went wrong during his crossing, he was less likely to sink. Cursing inwardly, he remembers his uncle's lessons on crossing bodies of water. Over a decade of training and he could still barely grasp at hi ki. It was embarrassing.

Perception: [roll0]

[Bhaakon]

Kasuka stares long and hard at the bridge, but finds no obvious fatal defect beyond the structure's general rickety-ness. With no option left but to test the span, he ties a rope to a sturdy cypress and gingerly sets out across.

The bridge squeals and pops in protest, dipping to lightly kiss the surface of the water as Kasuka reaches its mid-point, but it holds up well enough for the nimble young man to pick his way across and secure the line.

As Kasuka finishes tying off the rope, the loud crack of a snapping branch rings out from the left side of the trail ahead. It's quickly followed by a rustle of undergrowth which grows louder with each passing breath. Something is barreling through the brush on Kasuka's side of the bridge, and it sounds like it will break onto the path at any second.

[stack]

Lethos draws his blade and follows, stepping as lightly as possible, to take position next to Kasuka. "Stand ready." His fine saber is held in at high ready, its blade dark even in the light of day.

[Bad Situation]

Barely resiting the urge to click his tongue, Kasuka dextrously twirls his wakizashi into plain sight and with a flourish of his left hand, he palms a pair of shuriken from his wrist sheathe and prepares to throw one of them at whatever creature that dared to threaten their party. To Lethos he whispers, "Always."

Move Action: Withdraw 2 shuriken.
Standard Action: Ready an action to throw a shuriken if a goblin enters within 10ft of Kasuka and Lethos.
-- Attack Roll: [roll0]

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

The sound of something big and apparently quite pissed off made Eirik stop grumbling about the mosquitoes buzzing around them. What the hell could possibly make such a noise? What the hell was big enough to live in this kind of environment?

Perception to recognize the source of the noise [roll0]

Or if that doesn't apply...


"I have absolutely no idea."

Knowledge (Nature) (or any other Knowledge 'cept History) [roll1].

"Actually... I do. Bardic Knowledge!"

[Thattaman]

Theodric smiles at Erik's teasing. It seems like he doesn't care at all what you say to him he doesn't care. When Erik mentions the Ettin he replies jokingly, "I'll take off all six ears and see what that's worth." At the sound of rustling and the bridge snaps. His hands grab the longbow on his back and an arrow is notched before you can blink.

Perception roll, looking for a goblin. [roll0]
Survival [roll1]

[Bhaakon]

Lethos sprints across then bridge, drawing more creaking and cracking than Kasuka, but making it safely to the other side. Caleban follows once the elf is across, making it halfway when the creature bursts out onto the path.

A half-grown pig burst out onto the path with an explosion of brush and frightened squeals. Its hide is a patchwork of old scars and burn marks, but the only fresh wounds are three parallel slices on its flank. It pauses just long enough to consider you with terrified eyes before bolting back into the undergrowth on the opposite side of the trail.

[Bad Situation]

Kasuka lowers his arms when the frightened hog wheels back into the marsh, but keeps his weapons out regardless of the situation. Turning to the half-orc and elf, he asks, "Wounded. Goblin work?" Narrowing his eyes coldly he adds, "Shall we pursue?" If goblins were running rampant in the marsh it would behoove them to ensure the safety of the Warden.

[stack]

Lethos sheaths his blade, face betraying his disappointment. "Let's press on. Perhaps we'll get lucky and run into a goblin hunting party, have them split their forces for us." He waits impatiently for the others to finish crossing.

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban does not sheathe his weapon. He follows the pig with his eyes and looks from where it came from.

"Three parallel marks... Give me a second before the others cross"

Trying to think what may have caused such wounds. Also, to find tracks in this path

[Bhaakon]

Caleban finishes traversing the bridge and makes a cursory scan for tracks, but he spots nothing aside from the pig's cloven hoof-prints.

As for the wound, no obvious cause springs to mind. A claw mark seems likely, but a firepelt cougar--the predominant large cat in the region--has four claws per paw. Perhaps it was something more exotic, or maybe the frightened animal cut itself on some jagged broken limbs.

[stack]

Lethos looks impatiently up the path. "If we are done bothering about pigs?"

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban gives the sky a reflexive look.

"Yes, we are done worrying about pigs. Not so much about what would give them such wounds. But let 's press on."

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"Agreed", the bard said as he scampered across the bridge. "Though I think it's best we keep our wits about us. Whatever made those marks on the swine is probably close by... and that pig was scared out of its wits."

"Hey Taldan", he then asked, looking at Theodric. "You look like your good with animals. Want to go and catch that thing? If it's the Warden's, he would be glad to have it back. If not... well, bacon is always good."

[Bad Situation]

Kasuka shakes his head, inclining his had to note his dissatisfaction with the plan. "Leave the pig to its own ends. If there is danger afoot I would rather we see to the Warden's safety." What business they had with a wild beast was beyond him, but even supposing the boar did belong to the Warden, it made far more sense to ascertain the Warden's location than it was to embark on a wild boar chase.

But then, that was why he was not an adventurer he supposed. Would Ameiko have gone after the pig, he wonders.

[Bhaakon]

The temperature drops as you venture deeper into the swamp, causing the steamy air to condense into a dense mist. The effect is highly disconcerting, as dead branches and shadows seen through the fog take on a sinister aspect. Grasping claws, cowering goblins, even a man standing on dog's legs turn out to be nothing when closely examined.

You cross a second bridge, much sturdier than the first, and a third that even shows signs of recent repair. After a few more minutes of walking, the vegetation thins and a salty breeze clears the air. The muddy trail emerges beside a tidal lagoon. The open ocean is visible just beyond these shallow waters, while an old two-story building, its walls slick with soggy moss and its roof sagging with age, sits on the lagoon’s shore.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"I wonder if we should announce our presence", Eirik spoke up as he studied the scene before him. "If this Warden has really lived a good long while here in this fetid marsh, he might be inclined to shoot a crossbow bolt first and ask questions later."

Perception to see if there's anything unusual about the place. Y'know, signs of there having been an attack or things of that nature [roll0]

"Admittedly, it looks quite... cozy. If you can get past the fact that there's a damn bog right next to it."

[stack]

Lethos studies the shack after taking a deep breath of the salt air. No fond memories of the sea. Pain and loss. Breath deep, remember your failure.

"Manners are manners. Let us knock. If anyone could mistake us for goblins, then they are too far gone to be of any aid."

[Bad Situation]

Resisting the urge to sneak in through the back, Kasuka points at the front door. "Our answer lies within." Hiding himself amongst the more visually aggressive of their number, Kasuka is content to remain in the background until their Warden makes himself known.

[Bhaakon]

As you stand outside the charmingly dilapidated residence discussing a course of action, the matter resolves itself. The front door cracks open just wide enough to let a rather bedraggled-looking halfling squeeze out. His face and arms are covered with scratches and cuts, some of them still oozing blood, and pair of puncture wounds sit atop a walnut-sized welt on his wrist.

"Er, can I help you." The halfling inquires meekly.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"Ah, good sir", Eirik immediately spoke up, putting on his best charms even though the scratch-covered appearance of the halfling made him decide against offering a hand in greeting. "We're looking for a man by the name of Walthus. Walthus the Warden. Are we perhaps speaking with him? And are you alright? It looks like you've been attacked by fiendish bees from the bowels of Hell itself."

Diplomacy! [roll0]

Bardic knowledge to figure out what the hell could have caused all those sores and cuts and... yeecchhh... [roll1]

[Bhaakon]

"Yes, I'm Walthus," admits the halfling with a chuckle, "but it's nothing more than a tussle with a common viper, I'm afraid. Blasted thing latched on to my arm and I rolled through a patch of briars wrestling it off." He nervously scratches at the bite as he speaks. A closer look reveals an angry red streak trailing up his arm from the wound, a sure sign of poison or infection.

"But may I ask what brings you to my home? I don't get many visitors out here." He asks, studying you intently as he waits for an answer.

@Eirik
His wounds are consistent with the story, but your guts tells you that he's a not being entirely truthful.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"A viper? Are you sure?" Eirik asked, worry appearing on his features, but also disbelief. "I don't mean to doubt you... but that looks quite serious. More so than what a viper could do. Are you absolutely sure it wasn't something else that did this to you?" he asked again, walking closer to the halfling. He had put aside his bow so as to let Walthus see his intentions were good. "We would have you at your prime, master Walthus. Especially since we are seeking your wisdom and counsel."

Diplomacy so as not to spook Walthus into stonewalling us: [roll0]

Sense Motive to see if he lies when he answers: [roll1]

And I guess it's either Spellcraft or Bardic Knowledge to recall if CLW is helpful in neutralizing the effects of poison or infection, or if a different spell is needed. I guess I could just ask the GM, but I'd rather roleplay that realisation :smallwink:

Spellcraft: [roll2]
Bardic Knowledge: [roll3]

[Bad Situation]

Tilting his head to the side, Kasuka asks, "Are snakes common to the marsh, then?" Venom, he knew from his training, wasn't something you simply shrugged off. Regardless of the man's strange hermit-like habits, why had he not immediately gone to town to be cured? Pride, perhaps. Better men had fallen to their vanities. "Perhaps it would be best if we escorted the Warden back to Sandpoint before pressing further into the swamps?" He had a hard time imagining the intoxicated halfling to beating back goblins with his injuries the way they were, no matter his reputation.

"My uncle used to work with venom and the like...if you waited in town for our return, I would be able to help you, I think."

[Bhaakon]

"Yes, quite sure. It was a horrid, scaly thing about as long as you are tall. Big fangs and poison," he shudders and rubs his wrist gingerly to accentuate the point. "I'd advise you to watch out for them if you are going to spend time in the swamp. Very easy to miss... until they bite you."

The hint of sarcasm passes quickly, and the scruffy halfling brightens as he considers your offer. "I won't turn down an offer of healing, nor a request for what little wisdom I can share, though I'd know who I'm dealing with first. It's not often that such a well-armed party appears on my doorstep."

@Eirik
CLW will close up his numerous cuts and bruises, but won't do much against poison or an established infection directly. That said, a healthy body is in a better position to fend off venom than a damaged one.

He may not have been entirely truthful about the cause of his injuries, but he seems legitimately pleased about the offer of healing and the chance to help.

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban watches the exchange with the strange hermit. Something does not add up, but to each his own. Though Caleban would bet his boots that the pig with the strange cuts would have a story to tell, if it could talk.

I don't know how he does it, Eirik. He is as slick as an oiled snake. But we are quite intimidating, aren't we?


"We do not seek to discomfort you, neighbor. We are merely seeking advice on the happenings of the region. We have been told that you are a wise man who knows many things that happen on the marches. That is all. If we are armed, it is because these are dangerous times. And there is strength in companionship."

Caleban looks straight at the halfling, standing on his axe like it was a staff, and shifting his weight. His scarred face is that of a tired traveler.

Diplomacy Aid another? [roll0]

[North_Ranger]

"My name is Eirik Evensong, and my pale companion here is Kasuka. The dashing half-orc is Caliban, Lethos is the name of the elven swordsman... and that man with a bow is Theodoric, but we just call him the Taldan", Eirik quickly introduced the group. "And I think I can help a little already. If you will allow me...", he said as he walked closer to the halfling and placed his hand on his shoulder.

Walthus might wonder why the Ulfen started humming, but quickly Eirik's humming turned into a lilting, song-like incantation, one that carried with it an invigorating rush. Some of the bruises and cuts and scabs on the halfling's flesh began to mend, but the nasty-looking inflammation and the black line creeping up the vein were left untouched.

Casting cure light wounds on Walthus: [roll0]

"There... that will surely help a little. But I have no magic or curatives to deal with the infection. I think it would be best if you come with us back to Sandpoint and have Father Zantus take a look at that", he suggested, lifting his hand from the halfling's shoulder. "Perhaps you could also describe your assailant on the way."

[Bhaakon]

"No, no. Feeling much better already, really." Bubbles the halfling. The curative seems to have taken care of the more superficial wounds and stopped the deeper cuts from bleeding, though his injuries are far from fully healed. "It's not the first time I've been bitten, really. Some bed rest and a good meal should see me through. Your friend with the big ax there mentions wisdom, well, it wouldn't be very wise of me to live out here alone if I couldn't handle a little snake bite. Not to sound unappreciative, really, but I can't run into to town for every little thing."

"Still, I pay my debts. Tell me what counsel you seek, and I'll do my best. Just be warned: I'm not one of those religious hermits, so don't expect much in the way of enlightenment. Motr of a naturalist, really. I can tell you which tubers taste best with bullfrog legs, or what herb to use to treat a windy bowel...." He pauses for a moment, blushing a bit."Er, that's not the problem... is it?"

[Bad Situation]

Mutely, Kasuka nods in appreciation. Being independent of the luxuries provided by the town was admirable trait indeed. Still, preventing oneself the appropriate treatment for snakebites of all things was rather silly when you got down to it. The ninja cranes his head for a better look at the inside of the room, scanning for anything resembling a storage unit. "If you do not wish to return to town, would you prefer to be treated here? Where do you stock your anti-venom?"

Spying the house's inner hallways he asks, "Upstairs?" Coughing slightly he adds, "If you would have us, of course."

Then, remembering the reason for their visit he adds, "Any advice you have for broaching the innermost portions of the swamp would be much appreciated. Where you encountered the viper, for example so we know to avoid its home."

[stack]

Lethos grows impatient with the chatting. He mutters an invocation while the others tend to their host.

detect magic, out of boredom, to see if he has any special wards about to protect him from the wild, giving his a look too.

"Our purpose is to hunt goblins. Anything you know of their patterns and encampment would be greatly beneficial.We do not wish to trouble you any longer than necessary."

[Thattaman]

"It is very nice to meet you, I'm 'Taldan' but you can call me 'tally' is you want." He says with a playful tone and smile on his face, "Would you happen to have a stash of goblin ears on you as well as the head of a goblin chieftain. It would be so helpful if you did. If you'll tell us a bit more, no that we really need your help, but who is more knowledgeable about this area than you? We'll get one of us to heal you in return for a little bit of help. What do you say?"

Diplomacy check: [roll0]

[Bhaakon]

"Oh, the goblins. Yes, they're a real menace, and particularly obnoxious lately." The halfling smiles broadly upon hearing of your target, "dealing with them would do the entire swamp a favor. Why last night they lit up the entire sky with fireworks and explosions. I barely slept a wink. With all that commotion, they must be planning something big."

"But they're more than I can handle. I'm content to stick to my little island here, and the goblins seem content to leave me alone. They're always raving 'longshanks' this, and 'longshanks' that. Maybe my shanks aren't long enough to get their attention. I know that they're camped out south of here, on the Old Fish Trail, but I only know that much so as to stay clear of them."

@lethos
Your spell reveals noting

[stack]

Lethos turns one shoulder towards the door. "Then we should trouble you no longer. We have deeds that may better be done in the light, human eyes will be ill-suited if we face our foes after sunset and we have some distance left to walk. Our host will be better served by having his neighbors dealt with than by our company."

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"Agreed. And with all due respect, master Walthus... I would still recommend you to head over to Sandpoint with all due haste. None of us have the magic necessary to heal that infection, and I fear what those black lines will do to you, once they reach your heart", the young Ulfen man spoke up, shaking his head sadly. It seemed that being too proud for your own good was not a trait that the Ulfen could claim sole claim to; the halfling seemed to be more than willing to stay blissfully ignorant in the face of blood-poisoning.

"Incidentally... on the way here, we saw a startled pig run by us, not far from here. The poor creature was hurt, with three parallel wounds along its side, as if clawed. Do you know what creature might be responsible?"

[Bhaakon]

"Not a clue, friend. Not a clue. The swamp may be small, but it's home a surprising array of life. I can't claim to have seen but half of it." Responds Walthus, still smiling broadly. "I'll be sure to keep an eye out, though, in case there's some strange new predator loose in my backyard."

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

There is something strange going on with this fellow. I would wager my boots that he knows all too well what happened with the pig. But that is not my concern.

Sense Motive [roll0]

Caleban shifts his weight, making his various gear move like a small personalized earthquake just happened.

"Well, as Lethos said, if you have no more advice for us regarding the goblins and their antics, we should be going. One final question: You mentioned fireworks. How often do the goblins do such things? And what kind of fireworks are these?"

[Bhaakon]

"Once or twice a night, for a few weeks now. I don't know what you call them, they fly up in the sky and explode, some others that shoot a fountain of sparks." He frowns, trying a failing to think of the proper names for the fireworks.

"But last night they shot of dozens of them. Must have been celebrating something. Knowing goblins, I bet they're getting a big attack ready and they're excited about it. I'd get over there immediately if I were you. To spoil their plans." Replies Walthus, a look of concern spreading across his face as he described the goblin activity. He reaches for his door as he finishes talking, eager to re-enter his house once you decide to leave him be.

@Caleban
The halfling speaks in earnest. You're sure he's telling the truth about this.

[Bad Situation]

Kasuka hums his assent and backs away from the door, sparing a few words to the others in the party as he looks around the man's house for any signs of the snake described the Warden. "I will never understand this foolish thing called pride. A wise warrior accepts aid when it is offered." If they could find the same snake that injected Walthus with its poison, they could take it back to Sandpoint to find an appropriate anti-venom. That would be a fitting response to the man's aid at least. Hopefully, the halfling's pride could stand him snooping around the backyard area for a scant few seconds.

Perception: [roll0]
If Kasuka finds nothing around the area he'll be keeping an eye out for snakes and the like further in the swamp.

[Bhaakon]

"If that's all, I should really get some rest," says Walthus, and reaches for his door. He pauses to thank you once more before disappearing into the house completely, "thank you again for the spell of healing. I really wish I could be of more help with the goblins." Finally he closes the door, then locks it and throws a deadbolt. You're left alone once more, the only sound the constant buzzing of your attendant swarm of insects.

@Kasuka
The search for a possible culprit proves much easier than you'd hoped.

While the others discuss their next move, you circle the Warden's house and spot a pen out back, set off from the rest of the island by a shoulder-high brick wall. There are a half-dozen snakes in the enclosure, from skinny little adolescents to big fat adult vipers as big around as your arm. They're sunning themselves on flat rocks that almost seem to have been placed there for the very purpose, and a large ceramic bowl of water has been placed on the ground near the back door into Walthus's home.

[Bad Situation]

Kneeling down a safe distance away from the closure, Kasuka hums in thought. "He keeps the snakes as pets. Strange, that he does not carry anti-venom for emergencies then. What a curious halfling. He is not as skilled a naturalist as he seems to think he is..." Eyes lingering on the snakes for a moment, Kasuka returns to the group and points to where he returned from, "Found warden's snake pen. Vipers, as he said. I do not believe he carries antitoxins though. His mannerisms are less than adequate for a naturalist. Information more forthcoming from witch, perhaps."

What kind of man got bitten by the snakes he raised as pets? The kind who lacked the necessary cures for what was probably a regular occurrence. Men like this did not have worthwhile information insofar as goblin extermination was concerned.

Besides, people who failed to invite guests into their homes were rude no matter what.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"Most curious indeed", Eirik said, scratching his head as they kept walking. "There's three reasons why a man would wish to spend his life in the woods alone. Either he's touched by the gods, he is a hunter or he is simply off in the head. And this Walthus fellow struck me as neither a follower of the Wind and the Waves nor a ranger. Frankly, I think me might be simply... what's the expression... 'off his rocker'?"

Still, just in case... Bardic knowledge [roll0]

"Anyway, since our meeting with the Warden proved... less than prosperous, perchance we ought to seek out the so-called witch instead?" he suggested as they kept walking. I wonder if she's anything like Greatmother Sigrid? he wondered to himself, remembering his great-grandmother from his mother's side. The Old Norn, some called the statuesque old woman with clothes of grey and green, branches of evergreen spun into her long, grey locks and strange paraphernalia - chicken legs, rodent skulls and small branches of berry-bearing cloudberry and blueberry even in the dead of winter - hanging from her neck. For most Ulfen, she was something to be frightened off. Even his father had stepped carefully around her - a thane who had once punched a giant-blooded huscarl, watching his tongue and manners before a woman who had probably been around when Aroden died.

Yet for Eirik and his mother, she had always been a stern but kind soul. She had little taste for tales of warfare or the commercial exploits of his father, but she always smiled when either her grand-daughter or great grand-son plucked the harp and sang. In fact, when he had proven himself among the singers' circle, she had given him a grand gift: a beautiful harp, crafted with love and care from oak and blackwood, with coiling linnorms and flying birds adorning the veins of pale and dark wood. A harp that Eirik feared lost, burnt to cinders when his brother threw all his precious things into the bonfire. Sighing deeply, the young bard kept walking. Get your head straight, Eirik. And hope this Old Megus proves more helpful to our cause. Who knows? Maybe she is a sister of the Grungir druids? She can't be any worse than that crazy halfling...

[stack]

Lethos shrugs. "I've seen stranger." Been a few decades though.

[Bhaakon]

With a little discussion, the group reaches a consensus to leave Walthus to his eccentricities and seek out Old Megus. The walk back out of the swamp is more pleasant then your walk in. Sweat soaks you clothing in the oppressive atmosphere, and the constant assault of insects is maddening. Why anyone would come here to fish, much less choose to live here, is beyond you.

Under the theory that no one has set up and ambush in the half hour or so since you last passed by, you hurry your pace along the trail. It's not long before you once more reach the rickety bridge near the trail-head.

I'm going to need a marching order

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

Being more at home in longhouses and tavern commons, Eirik is more than happy to stick to the center of the group, letting the more experienced woodsmen in the group take the vanguard and the rearguard. Nonetheless he once again picked up his bow and arrow in case something would decide to come and have a bite - besides the mosquitoes, that is.

"Any trolls under there, you reckon?" he asked Caliban with a chuckle as they got back to the bridge.

[Thattaman]

"If there is, then you're safe with me." Theodric says, grinning at Erik. He too gets his bow out cautiously. "Let's get there soon. And hope old Megus is helpful. We might run into some goblins on the way there, if we have any luck."

[Bad Situation]

Kasuka does not make his preferences audible but falls in behind the more imposing fighters, and at the same time staying well within range to spring into combat.

[Bhaakon]

The brave Taldan tracker leads the way, crossing the bridge safely with token protest from the half-rotten supports. Caleban and Eirik follow suit, waiting on the other side for the remaining two.

Lethos head out next, making it hallway before a rotten plank gives way under his left foot. The nimble elf catches himself immediately, not even getting his boot wet.

With everyone focused on Lethos's near-dousing, no one notices the strange humanoid creature explode from the brush behind Kasuka. It springs forth on backward-bent knees, like the rear legs of a huge wolf, and attempts to wrap its enormous vertically-arranged maw around the back of the young Tian man's head.

Some obscure bit of training drilled into the Kasuka's unconscious by years of hard practice takes command of his body. The young man suddenly bends forward at the waist as the creature's split mandible snaps shut, escaping a neck-crushing bite by a hair's breadth.

Know(dungeoneering) DC 12
This twisted humanoid is a wrathspawn, an aberration birthed from foul magic and the collected psychic wrath of the dead. Aside from the physical theat of its long claws and enormous maw, it's bite is known to dredge up powerfully sinful urges which sicken its victims.

Map
1st full round, everyone is up.

http://i1230.photobucket.com/albums/ee498/Bhaakon/sinspawn1.jpg

1/2 movement speed in squares w/o path (anything outside columns C-F, except, obviously, the water)

You've only walked over the bridge carefully and singly. What might happen if more than one of you tries to cross in a round, or cross too quickly, is anyone's guess.

[Bad Situation]

Turning fast enough to knock the wind out of him, Kasuka lands a distance away brandishes his blade in preparation for the fight. The others would move in to assist soon enough so it was vital that he land the first blow. Snapping his eyes toward the aberrant creature, Kasuka puts on a burst of speed, and slips in underneath its guard for a flurry of sword swipes.

"Not a troll..."

Status
Hit Points: 11/11
Ki Pool: 0/0
Armour Class: 16
Ongoing Effects: None

Actions
Move Action~!
Five foot step south. Provokes no AoO.

Attack Action~!
Attack Roll: [roll0]
Damage Roll: [roll1]

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban seems unmindful of the oppressive heat and the insects. He was back on the road, and that was its own rewards. He shares jokes with Eirik and even amicably tries to engage the dour Lethos.

"Even if there a troll here, let us hope it is female. Then Eirik will try to woo it."

At just that point, the creature comes out and snaps at Kasuka. Caleban lets out an explosive curse.

Idiots! We are marching around like it is a picnic. Leaving someone on the flanks like that!

Caleban considers just wading into the water.

Waiting for the answer in the OOC thread!

[Thattaman]

Theodric lets fly an arrow and has another one notched straight away. "I've got this." He tells the others, a look of determination etched on his face.

Attack roll: [roll0] Damage [roll1]

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

HP: 9/9
AC: 14/14
Bardic Performance rounds: 13/13 (Took the Extra Perfomance feat, just in case)

Spells remaining:
0-level: Detect Magic, Read Magic, Prestidigitation, Ghost Sound
1st-level: II Cure Light Wounds, Grease

Eirik's face grew pale when he saw the monstrosity barge out of the woods and almost takes Kasuka's head off. He recognized the creature from the tales of old, tales about the Thassilonian wizard-kings and their heinous creations.

"Wrathspawn! It's a wrathspawn! Kasuka, don't let it bite you, it'll infect you with its evil!" the bard as he nocked an arrow. No... The monster was too close to Kasuka; he'd risk hitting the pale man if he tried to shoot it. Better he bolster the strength of his comrades-at-arms. As the fletchings of the arrow grazed his cheek, the young Ulfen began to sing. The song of Ulvass, the Linnorm King who fought and destroyed the giants who used the magic of Thassilon against the brave northmen. Ulvass whose courage and strength was so great that he brought down the giants' magical city on top of their sorceress-queen with a single hit of his axe.

Standard action: initiate bardic performance, inspire courage. Everyone in the group who can hear Eirik sing get a +1 morale bonus against fear and charm effects, and a +1 competence bonus to attack and damage rolls.

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

"Wrathspawn, is it? Let 's how it bleeds..."

Caleban takes out his axe and wades into the river with his considerable bulk. The stream is almost a welcome relief in the heat, despite being muddy and slimy. He pushes in through the silt and comes out on the other side like the fist of a swamp god, going straight for the monster.


It takes a double move to get to the thing and since Caleban cannot charge through difficult terrain, his attack will have to wait next turn. In either case, his roles are

Atk with Power Attack [roll0] Dmg [roll1]

[stack]

Lethos allows himself a slightly chuckle after he catches himself going through the bridge. He was about to sheath his blade to cross more carefully when he heard the cry go up.

Spinning around, He immediately moves back to engage the creature. A gleam shoots up his blade as he raises it to strike. A worthy foe, perhaps? Let us dance.

move to C7, swift to enchant blade to +1 using arcane pool, attacking

[roll0] (includes +1 from arcane pool & +1 bard song)
damage [roll1] (includes +1 from arcane pool & +1 bard song)

[Bhaakon]

Kasuka sidesteps to make room for his allies and whips out his wakizashi. He dips and dodges, looking for and finding an opening. His sword arm uncoiled like a striking viper, shaving of a flap of skin from the wrathspawn's abdomen.

Eirik bellows his warning and immediately dives into an inspiring epic of strength and valor against long odds. The Taldane won't admit it, but the oddly calming beat of the song helps steady his aim as he buries an arrow to the creature's in the thing's corded hamstring. Caleban, also on the wrong side of the sluice, tightens his fists around his big ax's handle and charges into the murky water.

Lethos spins and hastily picks his way back across the rickety bridge, drawing his sabre as he advances. He pulls back his arm for a powerful slash, imbuing the blade with a share of his magical powers as it dives deep into the wrathspawn's bicep.

The creature shrieks and wheels around to face the elf. With a strength fuelled by pain and rage, it blasts through Lethos's subtle parries to land a pair of punishing blows with raking claw, digging the same three parallel slices that you saw but an hour ago on the fleeing pig.

@Lethos
6 damage

As the elf retreats from the desperate assault, Caleban splashes out of the muddy waterway with weapon ready. The half orc throws his entire weight behind one mighty blow, driving the broad head of his greataxe through the wrathspawn's ribcage and into its vitals. This time the creature can't even gather the breath to scream, it just slowly crumples to the ground.

XP!
120 each

[stack]

Lethos gasps and clutches his side as he stumbles through a turn to swing again, but his foe is already fallen. He grits his teeth over shallow breaths, but maintains his composure. Too slow. Too many years and too much drink have made you slow, clumsy. How will you cross the world fighting like that. More More combat. Perfection or death.

He looks to the others, embarrassed, "If anyone has any enchantments to tend wounds, I would be most grateful."

[Bad Situation]

In a flourish that can only be described as 'artistic,' Kasuka sheds the blood staining the wakizashi's blade and sheathes it in one smooth motion. Out of the corner of his eye, the albino watches the elf stumble from his wounds and silently crosses the distance to push a roll of bandages into Lethos' hands before wordlessly returning to the path. There were undoubtedly more enemies out in the sticky marshes and they needed to be prepared in case of another ambush.

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban tugs the axe from the thing and stands watching it die.

"So you bled after all".

With obvious discomfort at his state -his axe dirty, his clothes wet- he approaches Lethos and gives his wound an appraising look, letting out a small whistle. He then places his hands around it and stares intently, the way old man Velisarius taught him. Caleban lets his soul drift up, to the stars now unseen.

Desna, lady of the night, lend me your voice to sing your song. I walk your paths.

CLW [roll0]

EDIT: Damn. Sorry Stack. Desna feels flighty today.

Caleban sighs, the sigh of coming back to this world.

'Make the best of it. There are no more from where this came'

He then proceeds to wipe his axe clean from the tainted blood, and clean up his armor as best as he can. The various layers protected his inner clothes, so he will not have to change here, in the middle of the swamp.

Finally, he takes a look at the creature and the surrounding area. When did it come from? The first time it was not here.

[Bhaakon]

Caleban has no problem finding the wrathspawn's footprints in the boggy ground, and sets about tracing them to their source. They cut through the course elephant grass besides the path, emerging onto a well-worn game trail after a painful ten yards of pushing through the serrated vegetation.

From there, it's no challenge at all to backtrack to the creature's den: a ten-foot-high mound of branches, logs, and reeds nestled in a narrow, muddy clearing. Flies buzz and swarm around the foul-smelling mound of rotting vegetation, occasionally disappearing through the rough opening in the side of the moldering pile.

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban snorts at the bad smells. First the muddy river, now this. Desna was being fickle today. Cutting a large stick from the nearby vegetation, he says to the others

"And help here, neighbors?"

Perception take 20, with a stick for the very nasty things, in order to search the premises.

[stack]

Lethos bows to Caleban. "My thanks." Seeing the man's discomfort at being wet and dirty, "Let me, in a small way, return the favor." He waves his hand, the dirt and water slowly falling to the ground.

prestidigitation!

Lethos tries to peer into the lair, then picks up a stone, cupping his hands over it for a moment. He tosses it further up the tunnel. "I would gladly go first, the darkness is nothing to my sight, but I fear I must decline due to my wound. I hope this light will be helpful."
darkvision 60', light (from lightbringer trait) on the stone, tossed in to let others see

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban sighs beatifically when the mud flows out of him.

I wonder if this is how my Ulfen peacock friend does it.

"That was a neat trick. Thank you. I can see in the dark just fine."

With that, Caleban continues his search.

[Bad Situation]

Mired in the darkness, Kasuka aids the half-orc in his search, his sickly red eyes growing more vibrant by the second. "I too...require no such light..."

Aid Another (Perception): [roll0]

[Thattaman]

"Well that wasn't too hard. If I'd had time to aim, then my arrow would have gone right through it's brain with one shot. Thanks for the song Erik. Nothing like a heroic tale to steady one's arm." He smiles at the Ulfen man, no trace of sarcasm or irony.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

Letting his song fade away, Eirik smiled and nodded to the ranger. "Pleasure to be of service, master Taldan", he chuckled before crossing the rickety bridge to join his comrades. Walking over to the elven swordsman, he looked at his wounds. "Here... I still have some magic left for today", he spoke as he whispered a small spell, placing his hand on Lethos's shoulder.

Cure light wounds [roll0]

"There... Feeling better now, friend? I wish I could help you more, but after healing the halfling... well, the only magic I still have left are minor tricks and cantrips", the dark-haired Ulfen said apologetically. After that, they followed Caliban and the Taldan to the creature's lair - a sight that made Eirik wrinkle his nose.

"Good gods... and I thought those things only looked bad. How on earth can they make things smell so bad, too?" he muttered as he picked up a long stick to help his friends in looking for anything of value in the wrathspawn's now-vacated abode. Who knows, maybe that thing had brought some trinkets or coin to his lair, like some unnatural magpie...

[North_Ranger]

Aid another in Perception [roll0]

Oh, and let's throw in detect magic, just in case.

[Bhaakon]

You thought the mound had smelled bad on the outside, but you were sadly mistaken. A wall of stench hits you with nearly physical force as you step into the cavern of putrefying plant matter, threatening to turn even the sturdiest stomach. It's a struggle to hold down your gorge as you sweep over through the den.

A wretched nest of filthy, blood-stained rags sits in one corner of the den, the shredded remains of at least two dozen separate articles of clothing. On the opposite side of the mound's cramped interior sits a stack of mud spheres, each about a foot across. The surface of the spheres is dried and cracked, flaking away in large chunks at the slightest touch. One cracks open as you poke at it curiously, a third of the mud shell peeling off in your hands to reveal the blackened, half-rotted face of a young man within.

[stack]

A minor enchantment keeps the worst of the smell from Lethos, who makes a quick scan of the chamber, searching for any magic.

prestidigitation & detect magic

(Presuming he finds nothing) "It was a foul, unnatural creature that the world is better off without. That said, we ought to press on to see this witch. Perhaps we should consider resting there as well, if our healing abilities are limited. Attacking the village may be unwise without the means to fix wounds."

[Bhaakon]

There's nothing magical inside

[North_Ranger]

"Not to mention tell Sheriff Hemlock about this place", Eirik suggested as he quickly left the cave, yearning for the fresh-by-comparison air of the marsh after being exposed to the mind-numbing attack on his nose in the wrathspawn's den. "I mean, if that creature killed someone I knew, I'd like to know where to get their head and give it a proper burial."

[Thattaman]

"We should give it to father Abstalar Zantus. He'd know what to do with it and who it might belong to." He looks discusted at the rotting face, "But we better get going before a horde of those things come to kill us!"

[Bhaakon]

You're glad to leave the rank lair of the wrathspawn behind and make haste back to the path, pausing only long enough to mark a trail for the proper authorities to follow at some later date. With the memory of battle fresh, you take extra care not to fall into another ambush on your way back out to the main road, constantly scouting ahead and scanning the undergrowth for an attack that never comes.

You breath easier once you clear the swamp, at least a little. The stubbly grass of the high moors make it easier to spot an enemy coming, particularly at the head of the Old Fish Trail, where a number of goblin-sparked spot fires have left little but blackened earth.

But your goal isn't the goblins' village, not yet, so you continue on past the Old Fish Trail to the Witch's Walk, a narrow pathway winding its way precariously down the bluffs on the western end of Brinestump Marsh. You pick your way down the steep descent and once more disappear beneath the swamp's lush canopy.

Survival DC 15
This path is far more overgrown than the New Fish Trail. You doubt that anyone has traveled this way in at least half a year.

Your passage is slow and careful, but ultimately uneventful. By early afternoon the path opens into a clearing containing a sagging one-story shack, its walls dingy with age and encrusted with lichen and fungus. A partially collapsed shed sits just to the northeast, while small pouches, twisted knots of feathers, and dangling wind chimes made of bones hang from branches and roof edge alike. Most of the macabre totems prominently feature dog skulls, perhaps an attempt to ward off goblins by exploiting their well-known fear of canines.

[Bad Situation]

If Kasuka is impressed by the macabre assortment of lawn decoration he makes no vocal indication and instead surreptitiously draws his wakizashi. There was really no telling what the old witch would do to them if she found that they were encroaching upon their property. Better to be safe, he reckoned. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches the party and lets them make the first move.

[stack]

Lethos strides forward. "Let us proceed as before." He has spoken even less this leg of the journey, embarrassed by his wound in their first engagement.

He knocks firmly on the shack's door, "Hello. We are from Sandpoint, we come seeking your knowledge of the goblins."

[North_Ranger]

"I'll come with you", Eirik offered as Lethos strode forward. "I have druids in my mother's side of the family. If this Megus is of their kind, perhaps I can help in procuring her assistance", the young Ulfen said as he followed the elven swordsman. Deciding against pulling a weapon, he stood behind the man when he knocked on the door.

"Just remember... we're the ones on her turf now. Being polite costs us nothing."

[Bhaakon]

Lethos raps on the stout portal, but no answer is forthcoming. The half-elf notices that the heavy door doesn't even rattle as he strikes. Between the hardwood bloating in the damp and the settling of the ancient-looking shack it has jammed in its frame.

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban looks at the strange building in front of him. It doesn 't look like anyone is home.

"Seems empty to me. I will have a look around."

Caleban proceeds to check around the house, looking for tracks or any signs of activity.

Perception take 20 for 27
Survival [roll0]

[Bhaakon]

As Caleban picks his way around the shack, the signs of disrepair are increasingly obvious. What was once a small garden is now an overgrown tangle of weeds, vegetables, and herbs.

A short footpath around back--really more of a subtle rut in the knee-high grass--snakes to a small pier. A closer inspection reveals a small row boat hauled out on shore. The hull seems solid enough, once the rain water collected within has been emptied. It would be a tight fit, but you're confident that it would seat the five of you.

As he works his way around to the side of the house with the collapsed shed, Caleban notices a profusion of large rodent tracks, an obvious game trail between the witch's shack and the collapsed outbuilding. A particular print near the shed catches his eye, and the half-orc bends down to examine it in detail. Not only are the rat print unusually large, but some of them bear the unmistakable 5-fingered print of a humanoid hand.

Caleban gets back to his feet and is about to inform the others of his conclusions when he hears something moving in the ruins of the shed. He turns to see three rats the size of small dogs scampering from the wreckage.

Map, etc.
Lethos acts first, then the rats. ONLY LETHOS SHOULD POST NOW. No surprise round, this is the first full round.

http://i1230.photobucket.com/albums/ee498/Bhaakon/Direrats1.jpg

[stack]

"Rodents of unusual size? This swamp is truly a lovely place. What's next, geysers of flame? Quicksand?" Lethos quips darkly as he draws his blade. A simple incantation forms a shimmering ward around his and a gleam of light again leaps to the tip of his blade.

Magus POWER-UP round!
standard - cast shield
move - draw weapon
swift - arcane pool to add +1 enhancement
5' step to G6

status Lethos Far-wanderer (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=528595)
M N Elf magus (black blade), Level 1, Init +6, HP 10/10, Speed 30
AC 21, Touch 14, Flat-footed 17, Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +2, Base Attack Bonus 0
Black Blade (not yet awakened) Elven dueling saber (rapier w/ Slashing) +4 (1d6+1, 18-20x2)
studded leather, shield spell (+3 Armor, +4 Shield, +4 Dex)
Abilities Str 12, Dex 18, Con 12, Int 16, Wis 10, Cha 8
Condition None

[Bhaakon]

The battle-hardened Lethos acts first, whipping out his sword and activating a protective enchantment before the other even register the danger.

But all that preparation is no aid to Caleban, who quickly finds himself unarmed and off-balance against three sets of filthy, snapping jaws. His chain mail proves itself even against over-sized rodent teeth, but it doesn't cover everything. One leaps up and latches on to the meaty part of his hand, leaving a shallow wound flecked with bits of the disgusting creature's past meals.

@Caleban
1 damage, DC 11 Fort save

Map
Everyone is up.

http://i1230.photobucket.com/albums/ee498/Bhaakon/Megushack2.jpg

[stack]

Lethos steps up, flourishing his blade before striking down beside Caleban, trying to fillet the overgrown rodent. "If they prove troublesome, step back and I will neutralize them."

move to G5
attack [roll0]
damage [roll1]

status Lethos Far-wanderer (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=528595)
M N Elf magus (black blade), Level 1, Init +6, HP 10/10, Speed 30
AC 21, Touch 14, Flat-footed 17, Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +2, Base Attack Bonus 0
Black Blade (not yet awakened) Elven dueling saber (rapier w/ Slashing) +5 (1d6+2, 18-20x2)
studded leather, shield spell (+3 Armor, +4 Shield, +4 Dex)
Abilities Str 12, Dex 18, Con 12, Int 16, Wis 10, Cha 8
Condition +1 weapon for 9 rnds

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"Just be glad it isn't giants. Or pirates", Eirik quipped at Lethos's worry about the swamp's natural hazards. For a moment he considered using a minor trick to turn one of the rats purple, but he discarded the idea. Such tactics worked better against opponents who were more easily confused.

Instead, the dark-haired Ulfen pulled out his sword, ready to defend himself if need be. And once again he brought his bardic magic to bear, this time a jaunty tune he had once heard in Magnimar, about a meat pie vendor whose tasty pies were the toast of the town, everyone guessing whether it was pork or mutton or veal in her pastries. And yet, it was rat all along.

HP 9/9
AC 14

Bardic performance: 12/13

inspire courage on; everyone gets +1 to attack and damage rolls and +1 to saves against charm and fear effects.

[Bad Situation]

Blade already spinning in his grip, Kasuka launches himself at the filthy vermin with gusto, eager to prove his worth to the team however possible. Silently, always silently, he heedlessly charges into range to attack the creature while it is distracted by the much more imposing half-orc.

Status
Hit Points: 11/11
Ki Pool: 0/0
Armour Class: 14
Ongoing Effects: Charge, Bardic Music

Actions
Full-Round Action~!
Diagonal Charge to H4 and attack the Rat in G3.
Attack Roll: [roll0]
Damage Roll: [roll1]

[Bhaakon]

G3 rat is dead

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban was absorbed in watching the tracks when he heard the squeals. Too late. He was about to call the others, when he felt the bites under his armor.
Cursing, he swings his axe in a wide ark.

"Rats? I hate rats!"

Atk with power attack G4 [roll0] dmg [roll1]

Save Fort [roll2]

[Thattaman]

Theodric lets fly an arrow at the closest rat (F4), inspired by Erik's music.

Attack: [roll0] Damage: [roll1]

[Bhaakon]

The fight is over almost before it began, with the three dire rats filleted, rent in twain, and pierced though the vitals, respectively. Such efficiency in the face of overgrown pests is almost enough to make you consider forming an extermination company.

XP
81 each

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"Huh... so that happened. Strange, I thought rats only got that big in cities", Eirik wondered to himself after he let his song and his magic fade. His blade unbloodied, he slid it back in its hilt as he wondered that conundrum to himself.

Bardic knowledge... are such R.O.U.S.es common occurrence in swamplands?

[roll0]

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say they were called here", he added almost superstitiously and started looking around, as if expecting Old Megus to summon something else from the marshes at them. Probably something bigger. And nastier. With bigger teeth. Bigger, nastier teeth.

Paranoid Perception check! [roll1]

[Bhaakon]

@Eirik
Yes, it is a bit odd to see them so far away from an easy source of food like the refuse found in a city dump or sewer. Rats are mostly scavengers, and it's hard for ones this size to find enough to eat in the wilds. The three corpses look to be on the lean side.

Your nervous search of the are reveals nothing new.

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban cleans his axe with disgust, and cleans his bit with some alcohol, grunting at the sting.

"The damn things bit me! But I wanted to tell you, they were not alone. Before the scuffle, there was a clear humanoid print here. Something has happened.

And the old lady leaving here should have come out by now. I fear that something has happened to her. I think I will take a look inside."

With that, he puts words to action and goes inside, forcing open a window or a door. He will wait if someone wants to join.

Perception [roll0] inside the house if necessary, or take 20 if there is time.

[Bhaakon]

The sodden door is no match for Caleban's greataxe, and its decaying timbers give way after only a few blows to reveal the shack's dank interior. He takes on last breath of the relatively fresh swamp air before stepping over the threshold, intent on searching Megus's home completely.

The place is a shambles. It's obvious that no one has taken care of the leaking roof since the previous winter at least, allowing the rain water to collect in the house and turn it into a nursery for molds and fungi of every stripe. The floorboards, quickly rotting in the fetid atmosphere, squeal and creak with every step. The dust and mold coating the floor reveal a plethora of rat tracks, most featuring the tiny little humanoid hands that Caleban spotted outside.

A sheet of slimy green growth clings to the walls of the entry way, while smaller colonies of stringy black filaments hang from more of those macabre bone mobiles. An overstuffed chair sits moldering in one corner, a mushroom cap of the size of a platter springing jauntily from its seat cushion. A closet on the right reveals a collection of brooms, mops and rags, cleaning supplies now just as noisome as the rest of the residence.

To the left, Old Megus's bedroom. Her bed lies in one corner, still made, though now leopard-spotted with a dozen different colors of mold. The spores in this room make it difficult to breath, but you manage to hold out long enough thumb through the avalanche of books scattered about the room when an old bookshelf gave out. They've all been ruined by the moisture.

To the rear of the house is the kitchen and pantry. You can tell because Megus's stores, once neatly ordered on shelves covering the entire back wall, sport a density and variety of fungal life that might take a diligent researcher a lifetime to catalog. To the left, a small entryway leading to the back door. To the right, a lavatory (which has survived quite intact, perhaps thanks to its copious ventilation and tight-fitting door).

Beside the lavatory is the most interesting room in the house: Old Megus's alchemical laboratory. The place is a shambles, with most of the chemicals either gone bad or spilled and left to dry into crystalline stains on the workbench. On the floor is a hideous skeleton, still contorted in its pained death throws.

Even a glance is enough to reveal that some hideous transformation has disfigured the skeleton—the skull seems half melted and weirdly elongated in the face, one arm looks more like a bird’s talon, and the ribs have grown long spurs of bone that protrude both into and out of the rib cage. It was this last deformity that likely proved mortal.

As you bend to examine the body, a reedy voice intoning the unmistakable formula of a spell seeps through the walls, followed by a command in the same squeaky register once the casting is complete. "Begone, go, flee. Not your house, no. It's mine. Mine. Master died, Skitterfoot make sure of it. Skitterfoot own now."


DC 17 Spellcraft
The spell was False Life

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

Preferring the company of his armed and armoured brother in Desna, Eirik followed Caleban into the shack. The disarray and the invasion of fungal life, however, brought an Ulfen curse from the young man's lips as he looked around.

This woman was no hag, he thought sadly when he studied the place that had once been so neat and tidy. A hermit, for sure... but no child-eating monster.

The sound of spellcasting, however, forced the bard out of his reveries, and instinctively he reached for his blade. He did not recognize the spell and expected some hellhound to jump out of the shadows. But when the squeeking voice started to speak... Could it be? he thought, a sudden realization coming upon him. Then he let the sword slide back in its hilt and stepped into the middle of the room, his arms open to show he had no weapons in his hands.

"Skitterfoot does not want a fight, yes?" the Ulfen began speaking, looking around in the house, trying to locate the source of the warning. "Skitterfoot sent the others at us, but Skitterfoot doesn't want to fight, yes? Skitterfoot just wants to be left alone, yes? If Skitterfoot didn't kill the master, we don't want to fight Skitterfoot. If Skitterfoot can tell us what happened, we can tell others not to come here, so Skitterfoot can be alone. If that is what Skitterfoot wants", he offered, hoping that his intuition was correct. If Old Megus was a witch, she probably had a familiar... and he was pretty sure what manner of a familiar that might be.

"Cal, put down your axe", he quickly whispered to the half-orc. "Trust me on this one."

This is just a shot in the dark here... spell-casting, rats, a squeeky voice... and Skitterfoot giving us a chance to fall back instead of attacking outright. And no, I've not read up on witches beyond noticing they have foxes and cats and cute little ferrets about them in pictures :smallsmile:

Detect magic on, followed by Diplomacy [roll0]
and Perception [roll1]

[Bhaakon]

"Other what? No send nothing, you invade Skitterfoot's home," squeaks the voice as it patters around through the walls and under the rotten floorboards. "Mistress mix potion wrong, now house is mine. Mine. Should not have used otyugh gall, but she pay for mistake. Pay."

"So go. You see dead mistress, so leave. Not want to share her fate? Then not cross Skitterfoot."

@Eirik
You detect a faint necromantic aura in the walls, moving around as the voice does.

[Thattaman]

Theodric tries to help with Erik's attempt, "We don't want to hurt Skitterfoot, we just want help then we will leave Skitterfoort by himself in Skitterfoot's own house. Does Skitterfoot know where the nearest goblin lair is? Skitterfoot doesn't like goblins, does he? We can get rid of them for Skitterfoot, if he'll help us. How does that sound for Skitterfoot?"

Diplomacy: [roll0]

[North_Ranger]

The way the creature Skitterfoot described its mistress's death alarmed Eirik. No... could a familiar really do that to its mistress? he wondered, trying to see if there was another layer behind the infantile speech pattern of the creature.

Sense Motive to see if Skitterfoot is lying about Old Megus's death. I have a feeling it might not have been an accident. [roll0]

"Why? Why did mistress deserve her fate? Was she a bad mistress? Did she treat Skitterfoot badly? Did mistress make Skitterfoot angry?" he asked, trying to surreptitiously point to Caliban and Theodric where he sensed the creature scurrying about.

Maintain detect magic, use Bluff to pass on a hidden message to Cal and Theodric (and anyone else of the party in the shack): [roll1]

A simple message: "Over there", so that oughta be no more than DC 15, right?

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban


Caleban sees what Eiric does and follows suit. That was good thinking.

Casting detect Magic

"Skitterfoot, if you want us out of here, it is time that you came out and explained things a bit. We have been patient so far. But do not take for granted our patience. We will get our answers one way or another."

[stack]

Lethos lowers his blade and allows the more socially inclined of the group query the creature.sorry, not much posting time on weekends

[Bhaakon]

"Yes, deserve, yes. Dumb enough to believe label instead of eyes. Otyugh gall green, not red. Fall for simple trick, deserve what she got, yes? Yes." The voice continues to move about the walls, now moving along where they meet the floor. "Dumb Megus not beat and burn Skitterfoot where she is now, no. Just ugly pile of bones... what?"

A wrinkled mockery of a human face peeks out from a fist-sized hole gnawed in the plaster. It's beady black eyes lock on Eirik, and its rat-like incisors chatter together as is sees the Ulfen bard trying to point out its location to the others. "Lies and tricks! Should have known, should have know. Don't believe the tall ones. Never!" It shrieks as it disappears back into the wall.

DC 12 knowledge (arcana) to ID creature
The ugly little beast is a ratling, a rodent with the face, hands, and intellect of a human. They're natural affinity for spell casting and ability to use most any scrolls is valuable, but only the most corrupt spell casters will accept the insidious monsters as familiars.

Map
Haha, no map. Because of the way this encounter works, with your opponent skittering about in the walls, floors, and rafters, a map doesn't work very well.

Anyone with Detect Magic active can spot the general location of the opponent by his aura and point it out to others, but he still has total concealment from attacks and total cover from attacks that can't pierce through to where he's hiding (ie: spell requiring line of site, physical attacks that can't get through the hardness and HP of the intervening walls or floorboards, which aren't very high given their decrepit state). If you want to make an attack, remember to also roll percentile dice (1-50 misses)

Eirik is up, then the enemy.

oh, and Lethos's armor spell is still active

[Bad Situation]

Kasuka's eyes gleam dangerously in the dark as ejects a few shuriken from their wrist sheathe. Warily, his eyes search out any potential hidey-holes, lowering his body in preparation for a pounce. In a low monotone he makes his stance on the creature known, "If things go poorly, we could try burning down the shack. That would smoke the rat out, I think..."

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban keeps feeling the presence of the little abomination. He frowns as he hears the words.

"So you tricked your master in dying, you little walking rat? And now you would do the same to us? I am going to hurt you now... There it is!"

Caleban launches his axe in a powerful swing, trying to hit the thing beneath the wall. If lucky, he will hit it hard enough that it will surrender

Power attack [roll0] dmg [roll1]
Concealment [roll2] 1-10 miss, correct?

[Thattaman]

"We tried to be nice, but you didn't want it, now you'll pay!" Theodric draws his greatsword in a long arc, brandishing it in front of him, so as to look as menacing as he can.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

Bardic knowledge to recognize: [roll0]

"A ratling", Eirik hissed with disgust. "On your guards, friends! This creature can cast spells!" he yelled as he maintained his ability to see magical auras - and saw the creature's glowing outline scurrying up and down the walls. "Damn thing is fast, too!" he yelled out as he pulled out his blade and pointed it at the wall, right where he saw the creature. "Follow my sword!"

Eirik will maintain detect magic to let his comrades see where the ratling is - until the walls are smashed enough that the thing no longer has a place to hide.

[stack]

Foul, treacherous creature! "Guide our hands, let us end this beast swiftly." Lethos calls as he plunges his blade in the indicated direction.If shield is up, so is he blade enhancement.

attack [roll0]
damage [roll1]
miss [roll2]

[Bhaakon]

@Lethos, Caleban
You shouldn't be rolling attacks yet, it's not your turn until after this post.

Eirik's sword tracks the movement of the Ratling as it retreats through the walls into the kitchen area. Before you can run through the door after the little fiend, it begins another casting.

DC 12 Spellcraft
Summon Swarm

Seemingly out of nowhere, hundred and hundreds of rats spew from every crack in the plaster, gap in the floorboards, and hole in the roof. The diseased little vermin swarm about your feet, completely filling Old Megus's laboratory to ankle depth. They desperately climb up pants, crawl into boots, and squeeze beneath greaves in search of flesh to gnaw on.

DC 12 Knowledge (nature)
You've heard of disgusting swarms of rats such as this being spawned in particularly rich feeding grounds or by magical summons. As they're made up of hundreds of individual animals, slashing and piercing weapons are only partially effective.

@Everyone
Eirik: [roll0] damage
Theodore: [roll1] damage
Caleban: [roll2]
Lethos: [roll3]
Kasuka: [roll4]

Everyone: Roll a fort save

[Bad Situation]

There was something to be said about chasing a rat into its rat hole. Or, more specifically, just don't do it. However, these thoughts fall on deaf ears the ratling begins its infernal cant. He knew very little about magic, true, but even the common knew to fear it. And then, as if in response to his fears the varminous rodents begin spewing out of the house like a disgusting torrent of disease. Kasuka reacts violently to the rat swarm, jerking himself away from the horde but to no avail.

Through the cascade he manages to grimy spit out, "Fire is still an option, yes?" before whipping his wakizashi out at the creatures.

Fort Save: [roll0]

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban swears again as rats appear out of nowhere.

"Hey, take care of this mess here. I will get the little bastard."

He continues his onslaught on the walls.

Atk as rolled. Fort [roll0]

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

Eirik looked to be in trouble with the rats. The little monsters got under his armor, in his hair, one was even tugging at his beard. Suddenly the bard howled in pain, one massive specimen having sunk its teeth deep in his neck. He managed to pull the beast away, but blood still wet the front of his night-blue jacket, his face growing pale.

"I'm beginning to thinking it's the only option", the bard cursed, one hand clutching his neck. He tried making it to the door, his lips whispering a minor cantrip in the hopes of getting the swarm to scatter.

Try and make it to the door, hopefully out of the swarm as he's down to 3 HP. For what it's worth, attempt to cast ghost sound for the sound of hungry feral cats. Lots and lots of them. Coming this way.

Concentration check (in case there's no way he can get out of the swarm): [roll0] Need at least 15, I think, to cast the spell.

Suddenly, a new sound broke through the squeaking of the vermin and the cursing of men. A loud sound. A hungry sound. It sounded like at least a dozen feral cats, hungry and smelling prey. Not the cute little balls of fur that were pampered and fed treats at Miss Kaye's, nor the lean but good-natured hunters that kept the rats at bay at Sandpoint homes. No, these sounded like the nasty rat-killers that prowled the alleys and fields. And they had just caught the scent of a veritable feast.

[stack]

fort [roll0]

spellcraft [roll1]

"The creature summoned them. Breaking his attention will disrupt the spell, but finding him may prove troublesome." He rips a rat off his arm, its fangs red, and whips it against the wall. "I suggest we move outside. Fire sounds wise." He cuts his way through the storm as best he can moving toward the door.

[stack]

can't edit rolls.

swarms are annoying, but we don't have much HP.

standard to attack the swarm (I assume 1/2 damage
[roll0]
damage [roll1]/2=

[Thattaman]

"Damn rats!" Theodric shouts as the swarm come towards him. "I'll kill the bastards!" As he says that, the greatsword on his back swings out and slices the closest rats on the gound.

Fort save: [roll0] Attack: [roll1] Damage: [roll2] Power attack.

[Bhaakon]

Following Eirik's directions, Caleban wades out of the swarm of rats in into the kitchen, where he gets to work chopping through the wall. Plaster cracks and falls from the roof in clumps as he assaults the building, and the shack's timbers creak worryingly.

Inside the lab, Kasuka, Lethos, and Theodoric hack desperately at the crawling, biting mass of vermin, to mixed results. Dozens of small bodies are sliced apart, but they're a pittance in comparison to the hundreds still living. Worse still, all the violent motion proves more than the rotten floorboards can handle. A plank gives way under Theodoric's plant leg, threatening to drop the Taldan into the heart of the swarm.

@Theodoric
DC 12 Reflex save or fall prone

But it's not all bad news. Thinking quickly, Eirik retreats to the kitchen and summons up a simple glamor. The result: the hungry yowls of a score of half-starved feral cats erupts from the entryway. Skitterfoot is too canny to fall for such a ruse, but the normal rats flooding the laboratory are slaves to instinct. The wave of vermin breaks, fleeing for the gaps and chinks. For the moment, at least, the swarm scatters.

@Everyone
The swarm is not dead, but it's too busy scattering to attack this round (though you can still attack it). It will reform next round, barring another clever strategy.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"Some ideas would be nice!" Eirik yelled out as he kept up the illusion as seemlessly as possible. The cantrip had only a limited duration, but the good side was that he could easily cast it again and again, maintaining the illusion of cats meowing and hissing outside, surrounding the hut - save at the front door. He was hoping the rats would be smart enough to take the hint...

In other words, keep casting ghost sound to keep the rats panicking.

[stack]

The tall elf takes advantage of the momentary respite to plunge his blade into the wall to which he had been pointed. This is no way to fight.

[roll0]
damage [roll1]
miss [roll2]

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban tried to hit the little rat through the wall, but his aim was way off. He grunted as his axe dug deep in the wood. His failure and the bites from the rats were making him angry.

"Come out, you little rat, or I will bring this house down!"

At that moment, he sensed the ratling. His axe was there a few seconds later.

Power attack [roll0] dmg [roll1]
Miss chance [roll2]

[Bad Situation]

There was no real point to fighting the swarm, not when the leader was still at large. If they let the filthy creature get away there was nothing stopping him simply sending more and more rats to attack. No, their goal should have been abundantly clear from the outset. "If we fell the ratman, his summons will surely follow." With that said, Kasuka aims his own attacks at the wall, hoping the sheer number of attacks would fell the screeching miscreant.

Attack Roll: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Miss Chance: [roll2]

[Bhaakon]

Theodore crashes to the ground as his boot punches through the rotten floorboards. It's fortunate that Eirik's spell temporarily abated the swarm, or the Taldan would surely have a dozen rats clawing and biting at his face. Instead, he carefully extracts his foot and retreats into the kitchen with the rest of the group.

It's a good thing he does, because Eirik's second attempt at frightening off the swarm falls short of his initial effort. Skitterfoot, who isn't fooled at all by the cantrip, squeaks angrily at his swarm (no doubt a litany of fur-peeling oaths, and you're momentarily sorry that you can't understand rodent). Whatever he says seems to work, and the swarm once more gathers to flood the laboratory in Theodore's wake.

Kasuka, Caleban, and Lethos are busy tearing the structure apart to find Skitterfoot. The ratling has made its way up to the attic in a vain effort to avoid the group's attacks. Kasuka's wakizashi perforates the ceiling, but his efforts do nothing but than loosen more chunks of wet plaster. Caleban's strike proves more spectacular, but no more effective in ending the former familiar: his axe blasts apart the lath boards and cleaves through a pair of rafters. The spectacular miss is not without cost, as the heft half orc's sudden weight shift punches another hole in the compromised floor.

@Caleban
DC 12 Ref save or fall prone

The new skylight proves a boon for Lethos, who spots Skitterfoot through the gap and delivers a solid slash to the hideous little beastie's flank. The ratling squeals in pain and flees to the safety and cover of the ceiling about the entry, where it stops to cast another spell. Suddenly Lethos is overcome with cowardice, and a nearly undeniable urge to abandon the fight.

@Lethos
DC 12 will save or be Frightened (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/gamemastering/conditions#TOC-Frightened) for 2 rounds. Succeed and be shaken (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/gamemastering/conditions#TOC-Shaken) for 1 round.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

The swarm was gathering again, and Eirik feared that this time even the relatively simple-minded rats would not buy another illusory sound of cats. Deciding to change tactics, the bard whispered a new illusion, one that he hoped would give the rats pause - and hopefully flush out Skitterfoot.

The walls and the ceiling where Skitterfoot had scurried to after Lethos's strike began to squeak and moan, the rotting wood sounding like it was just about to collapse on top of them all. Eirik hoped that the impressive amount of damage his friends had done to the delapidated shack's walls would lend credence to the illusion he was weaving; that it would be a matter of seconds before the entire house collapsed.

Hopefully this works... ghost sound to make it sound like the roof is about to collapse under Skitterfoot. Let's hope he fails his Will save to disbelieve... or at least has to roll for a concentration.

[stack]

Lethos shakes off the rising panic. Just a blasted spell. You're better than that, any apprentice could see through it. Focus.

His hands still unsteady from the momentary discomfiture, he plunges his blade into a rafter.will [roll0]

attack [roll1]
damage [roll2]
miss [roll3]

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

As the shambling house gets erratically hacked, Caleban almost loses his footing. The axe needs a lot of momentum and it is easy to misstep. At the last minute, he regains his balance.

"Come out, come out! Or we will bring this house down!"

Again, Caleban swings his axe when he feels the rat thing to be.

Pwer atk [roll0] [roll1]
Miss [roll2] 1-10 miss

Damn! Keep rolling 6 and 7

[Bad Situation]

Completely unsure of himself, Kasuka sweeps his blade wherever he can in the hopes of tearing the accursed rat-thing out from its hidey-holes. In spite of himself, Kasuka can feel a dark grimace stretching across his face as he carries through with this task, grateful for the veil that obscures his face from sight. It was unbecoming of a warrior to reveal too much about his emotions. Shinobi especially were expected to kill their feelings for the sake of their committment. Frustration and anger had no place in a fight.

...

That does not stop him from taking a special glee in tearing down the home, however.

Attack Roll: [roll0]
-- Damage: [roll1]
-- Miss Chance: [roll2]

[Thattaman]

"Die you stupid rats!" Theodric shouts as he takes another swing at the swarm. Cursing under his breath with each bite on his foot.

[roll0] [roll1] Miss [roll2]

[Bhaakon]

The swarm of rats slowly begins to re-fill the laboratory in the wake of Skitterfoot's admonishment, but Theodore has other ideas. He hacks away with his great sword, slicing and smashing every spot where the carpet of rodents gets too thick. He doesn't kill many rats, at least compared to the swarms total number, but the constant harassment breaks their cohesion and sends the survivors fleeing.

In the entry, Eirik makes another attempt to frighten the ratling into exposing himself. The rumble and creak of an illusory collapse have no effect beyond drawing squeaking laughter...

...which turns to a squeal of terror as the Ulfen skald's spell proves prophetic. Lethos, Kasuka, and particularly Caleban's latest attempts to cut their way to Skitterfoot send the unstable structure over the tipping point into full-on disintegration. Cracks in the plaster form and widen without the coercion of weapon blows, previously square door frames parallelogram noticeably, and rotten rafters fail in a series of wet snaps as each is forced to take on the load of its broken brethren. Old Megus's shack is quite literally falling on your heads.

And so is skitterfoot. The erstwhile familiar looses its footing as the ceiling breaks apart and drops to the floor in the entry, right at the feet of Caleban, Lethos, Kasuka, and Eirik.

[Thattaman]

"Ha! Run away! Tell your little baby rats that it was Theodriv Vor who defeated you!" He smiles to his companions, then sees the thing that fell from the ceiling. "What the f**k is that?"

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban has been bitten, drenched and bitten again in the span of a few hours. On top of that, the blasted ratling has been escaping his blows. And now a house has fallen on his head. When the familiar falls in his feet, a very nasty growl escapes his lips.

"Do not move. Do not squeal. Do not even twitch. I will smash you into a pulp and let your entrails feed the fish in the river if you so much as breathe. You will answer us now, or you will die so painfully that even Pharasma will not find you soul"

Intimidate! Let 's see if it works
[roll0]

Oops I am an idiot. That should be +9 for a total of 18

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"I'd do as the half-orc says if I were you", Eirik said as he drew his knife, flicking it between his fingers. "He's usually quite even-tempered, you know. But you - you managed to piss him off. I wouldn't anger him any more if I were you."

"Oh, and just so you know", the bard, pale from bloodloss as he was, hissed menacingly. "You so much as squeak for a spell, and I'll have the ranger here skin you alive. What do you think, Taldan? I think he'd make a half-decent fur cap."

Aid another at Intimidation: [roll0]

Readied action: if Skitterfoot starts casting a spell, Eirik will fling a dagger at him.

[stack]

Lethos Far-Wanderer

Lethos raises his blade. "It is a treacherous and wicked creature, unfit for mercy. Let us end it swiftly." His blade arcs down, giving the ratling no time to surrender.

tired of dealing with bloody prisoners in these games, takes to long. Lethos doesn't have a G in his alignment for a reason.

[roll0]
damage [roll1] (forgot +4 if target is prone)

[Bad Situation]

Looking around warily at the collapsing structure, Kasuka feels it prudent to point out the immediate danger and his companion's strange desire to put on the 'tough guy' act. Did they not realize the impending danger? Was killing the ratling so important that it could not wait, a scant few seconds? It boggled the mind. Glancing around the shack for any quick exits, Kasuka mentally prepares a list of access points in the event of a cave-in. "Perhaps it would be wise to play the part of the executioner while the proverbial axe is not threatening to come down on our heads, hmm?"

[Thattaman]

"What the HELL! Lethos, that was stupid and cruel! He might have helped us. What is wrong with you, the creature was sentient, it could talk and might have helped us. Now get the hell out of this building." Theodric runs out of the building as fast as he can.

[stack]

Lethos Far-Wanderer

(Presuming it was actually a kill and the building doesn't fall first)

The tall elf shakes the blood from his blade before calmly sheathing it as he strides from the collapsing building. He gives Theodric a cool gaze. Several seconds of silence too many pass before he responds. "Hold your tongue, child. It was a treacherous beast, no truth would be had from it. It's death was just and clean, better than the gnawing doom it offered us."

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"Oh for the love of---", Eirik cursed when Lethos made his attack and then bolted out of the house. Then again, it looked like that the shack was about to come down on all of them. Not stopping to see if the ratling was still alive, he rushed and grabbed the little monster by its tail. "If you want to keep living, don't put up a fight", he said as he rushed out, hopefully with the squealing, frightened little thing firmly in his grasp.

Or in other words, grapple Skitterfoot if he puts up a fight: [roll0]

Regardless of success or failure, run out of the house.

[Bhaakon]

Lethos's blade drives into the cowering ratling, but it just doesn't bite as hard as the elf expects. For those able to see such things, and weak necromantic aura around Skitterfoot fades, the spell apparently expended.

Theodoric wisely sprints past the scene and through the door as the house continues its collapse, swiftly followed by Kasuka and Eirik, who pauses only long enough to grab Skitterfoot by the tail and yank him along.

Jaggedly broken rafters break loose and fall into the shack, quickly followed by moldering shingles and walls falling inward. Caleban and Lethos will have to act fast to avoid being crushed under the debris.

Well, you can't say that I didn't warn you. Those who posted about escaping (or preparing to, in Kasuka's case) made it free and clear. Those who took other actions will need to make a DC12 reflex save. Otherwise:

Lethos [roll0] damage and buried
Caleban [roll1] damage and buried

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban starts getting out at the first continuing ramblings of the house. If the ratlling makes it, he will interrogate later.

I have explained in the OOC why I have not posted so far. If you still want the save [roll0]

[Bhaakon]

Broken beams threaten to impale Lethos and Caleban, while clouds of plaster and fungus spores choke the atmosphere of the collapsing hut. The pair make a mad dash for the open door, dodging falling debris and growing gaps in the floor to dive through the portal just as the entire roof of the hut caves in behind them. Safe, for the moment, the pair roll to their feet.

Though caught in Eirik's grasp, Skitterfoot is too incensed to give up the fight. "My house, my house! Ruined! Sneak thieves and house-wreckers, die!" He rants in his high-pitched voice as he twists and contorts in a vain attempt to bite the hand firmly gripping his disgusting, hairless tail

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"ENOUGH!" Eirik barked at the squirming little beastie, shaking him violently like Skitterfoot was nothing but a rag doll in his firm grasp. "Listen up, and listen closely. I'm going to start asking you questions now. If you fail to answer, I will spin you by your tail until you do or your tail breaks off. If you lie to me, I will slap your ugly, misbegotten hide against a tree. And gods help me if you so much as think about casting a spell, because then I will let the elf here 'play' with you!" the Ulfen man yelled angrily at Skitterfoot. Clearly, his patience was running out, and the better angels of his nature were the only things that now kept him from slitting the ratling's throat open. "But not before I cut off your limbs and tongue", he snarled, pulling out one of his daggers.

"Do we have an understanding?" he asked, staring Skitterfoot angrily right in the eye. His grip tightened on the ratling's tail. "Three... two...", he started counting, slowly starting to rock the ratling from side to side, preparing to pick up speed.

Intimidate! [roll0]

[Bhaakon]

"Oh, yes, Skitterfoot help, Skitterfoot help!" The bedraggled ratling mewls pathetically as it chokes back its nausea from the violent shaking. "Don't smash me, don't!"

[North_Ranger]

"Good boy", Eirik said with a deceivingly warm smile and stopped rocking the ratling. "Now, first question: there are goblins in these swamps. How many and where they are hiding?"

Sense Motive... [roll0]

[Bhaakon]

"Don't know, don't know!" The ratling flinches pathetically, afraid that it's ignorance will be its undoing. "Skitterfoot not leave house. Goblins stay away."

His dieous little face suddenly brightenes, "but old master did, yes, yes, yes! The map! Find the map!" He eagerly gestures towards the crumbled remains of the shack, in the heap of debris that was once the laboratory.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik looked up at his comrades and nodded. As far as he could tell, the frightened little monster was telling the truth. Only now they would have to dig through a pile of shattered plaster and rotting timber to find the map.

"Where in the laboratory?" he asked as he walked closer to the pile of debris, his hold still tight on the ratling's tail. In his left hand, he kept flicking the dagger. In case Skitterfoot decided to do something very, very stupid. "Tell me."

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban just barely escapes from the debris. Full of splinters and various building materials, he dusts himself off and continues growling at Skitterfoot.

"Yes. Find the map. Quickly."

[Bhaakon]

"My nest, my nest!" squeals Skitterfoot, indicating one of the few sections of wall still standing.

You tear away the plaster to reveal a rat's nest of tangled grass, gray hairs, and shredded paper situated between the lab and lavatory, one of the drier part of the house, and thus sturdy enough to survive the collapse more or less intact. A small collection of scroll cases and shiny baubles have been horded in the wall beside the filthy nest. Skitterfoot's treasure nook holds 33 gold worth of coin (jealously sorted and shined to a mirror finish by tiny hands and, you suspect, tongue), a masterwork dagger in a handsomely etched steel scabbard (worth 15 gold in addition to the price of the weapon), and five spell scrolls written out in a cramped, wobbling hand.

Spellcraft DC 20
Two of the scrolls contain caster level 5 cure light wounds spells

Spellcraft DC 22
Two scrolls of False Life, CL7. One scroll of Water Walk, also CL 7.

Perhaps most interesting is a detailed chart of Brinestump swamp, painstakingly drawn out and colored by hand and annotated in the same script as the spell scrolls. Special attention is paid to the labyrinthine waterways of the Soggy River delta, and a few points of interests, including the goblins' village, are clearly marked.

Map
http://i1230.photobucket.com/albums/ee498/Bhaakon/Swampmap.jpg

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"Very good, Skitterfoot", Eirik complimented the captive ratling when it led him to its nest. The coin could be put to good use, and Eirik couldn't help but whistle in appreciation of the finely-made dagger. The map seemed to be intact as well, and while still holding Skitterfoot with one hand, Eirik studied the spell scrolls.

Read magic should reveal the same details as a Spellcraft check, yes?

"I think we can put all of these to good use", the bard said as he handed the scrolls over to Caleban. "Is there anything else we need to ask our most helpful little guide here?" he asked his companions, still holding Skitterfoot by his tail. "And Lethos... He is my prisoner. What happens to him is my decision now. You try and kill him without me saying so, you owe me weregild", he added, giving the elven swordsman a stern look. He was ousted from his ancestral home, yes. But Eirik was still Ulfen, by spirit and blood and heart. And despite their reputation, the Ulfen did not kill their prisoners and hostages needlessly.

"And what I decide to do with him... that depends on Skitterfoot himself."

[stack]

Lethos brushes off debris as the interrogation proceeds. He seems genuinely surprised that anything came of it. He takes a turn examining the scrolls.

spellcraft [roll0] - first spoiler
spellcraft [roll1] -second spoiler


To Eirik: "If you claim him, he is yours, though as such you must answer for any crimes he commits in your care. I doubted we would get anything of worth from him, but you have proven correct this time. I admit I was wrong." His face remains stern, it was not an admission he cared to make.

Pointing to the scrolls, "A fair number of enchantments. These two are minor healing. These two grant a protective ward by drawing on necromantic energies. This one is an abjuration that allows one to walk on water. I cannot use any of them myself."

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban spends some time cleaning himself, with a look of annoyed concentration. When the spoils come about, he eyes the critically.

"I can use those healing scrolls. Not just for me, generally. And there might be more interesting things in there. Doubt their owner can do anything with them now."

He points at the house.

"But first, let me clean up this."

He puts some clean water in his wound to clan it and a bit of whisky, grunting. He then bows and murmurs.

"Lady of the Stars, lend me your help. I walk in your road and I was wounded. Help me stay on your path."

As Caleban talks, the wound slowly closes.

CLW [roll0]

He then goes to search the remains of the house, as much as possible.

Perception take 20, total 27.

[Bhaakon]

Caleban carefully sifts through the wreckage, but finds nothing of worth. It seems that everything Skitterfoot didn't see fit to preserve in his cache either rotted away in dank hovel or was destroyed in the collapse.

[Bad Situation]

Kasuka simply shrugs, finding that the attention was now centered on himself. "Though I do not particularly care whether or not the creature lives it is not as though we are not doing some great service to the world by ending his life. Do as you please, so long as it does not offend the sensibilities." Pausing a long moment he thinks to add, "And do not show it in Ameiko's presence. There is little reason that she should be exposed to such a disgusting thing." Despite his words, Kasuka watches Skitterfoot out of the corner of his eye, while pulling a rope from his bag expectantly. Regardless of the thing's utility, it was not wise to leave such a dangerous element out in the open.

Anxiously, he scratches at the bites and scratches received from the swarm of vermin. They did quite a number on his legs, embarrassing given the nature of the battle.

[Bhaakon]

"Do not kill Skitterfoot, no! You come here, you invade, you ruin home, and now you kill me! Not fair, not fair!" squeaks the ratling as dangles limply in Eirik's grasp.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"What promise can Skitterfoot give that would make us spare Skitterfoot's life?" Eirik asked, lifting the ratling so he could look into the frightened little creature's beady eyes. "Had Skitterfoot listened and spoken freely, Skitterfoot would still have his home and treasure. But Skitterfoot attacked. How can we trust that Skitterfoot won't do so again if we let Skitterfoot go?"

Truth be told, Eirik was loathe to kill the creature now. Misbegotten and twisted by magic as the ratling may be, but without his scrolls and out in the open he was not much of a threat. There would be no honor in killing a helpless prisoner. And some part of Eirik's being wanted to believe that the ratling had attacked out of fear and suspicion. That Old Megus had mistreated her companion.

"If Eirik tells where Skitterfoot could find a new home, will Skitterfoot leave and not come back?"

[Bhaakon]

"Yes, yes! Leave and not return! Never ever. Nothing here now, not shelter, not treasure! Sneak-thieves take everything!" Skitterfoot blubbers.

[Thattaman]

"Erik, don't kill Skitterfoot, why do we need to. If he attacks us again then he'll get no mercy, but we can spare his life. He's had his use now let him get on with his life. We've got what we came for." Theodric obviously doesn't want the creature to be killed.

[stack]

Lethos

"While you are questioning it, see if it knows anything of the wrecks marked on the map. Not many details here, so if they are listed the must be of some note."

[Bhaakon]

Encouraged by Theodoric's words, Skitterfoot is quick to grease the wheels of his release by offering up information."Big boat, smashed and empty. Old and rotting." he volunteers, pointing to the westernmost wreck. "Smaller boat. Home for nasty goblin witch." He points at the other wreck.

[stack]

Lethos's eye narrow. "Goblin witch? What else do you know of her?"

[Bhaakon]

"Other goblins fear! She keep horse and dog! Eat goblins!" The ratling adds, eager to secure his release.

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban was back from his search just in time to hear Skitterfoot. His eyes also narrow.

Goblin witch, hah?

"Go on, Skitterfoot."

Sense motive [roll0]

[Bhaakon]

@Caleban
The cowardly ratling seems genuine. You're sure that he'd say anything to save his skin, but he has no reason to lie (at least not in a way that would alert you of potential danger, like the goblin witch).

[stack]

Lethos shakes his head. "A goblin that eats goblins? Not shocking, debased creatures. Might know something, though. The rat did, so why not? And if we end up with one less goblin in the swamp, so be it."

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

Eirik frowned at this new deluge of information. Well, at least the prisoner had proven his usefulness, if nothing else. The goblin witch, however... that made him wonder. Dogs he could understand, being kept in a swamp... but horses? Either Skitterfoot was exaggerating or he had seen something that the ratling had mistaken for a horse.

"The goblin witch", the bard spoke up. "Has Skitterfoot seen her? Describe her to us", he told the creature in his grasp. "And... these caverns, marked on the map. What is so special about them?"

Sense Motive [roll0]

[Thattaman]

Theodric look surprised at the mention of a goblin keeping a horse and a dog. Goblins are terrified of horses and they hate dogs almost as much as dogs hate goblins. "You say that a goblin witch lives with a horse, but they are terrified of them and a dog would sooner kill a goblin than live with it."

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban nods his agreement with what Theodric says.

"What the neighbor said. This is either an outcast, not a goblin or Skitterfoot here is lying. In any case, we must go there."

Guys what about loot?

[Bhaakon]

"No lies, no lies! Skitterfoot see himself, before mad-dog chase him away! Crazy goblin cast spells to calm animals, and eat other goblin!" He cringes at being called a liar, afraid of the the consequences if you won't believe him, and quickly changes the subject to the caverns. "Never go in caves. Many webs, and spiders bigger than Skitterfoot."

@Eirik
You think he's telling the truth.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"Did Old Megus have something in the caverns? Something of value?" Eirik asked, his calm voice hopefully telling Skitterfoot that the Ulfen didn't think him a liar - and therefore the little ratling was safe from getting whacked against a tree.

For now.

Sense Motive... any more questions, guys? [roll0]

[Bhaakon]

"No, no! Megus not go in caves. Many spiders. Big spiders." The ratling shudders at the thought, revealing its own fear of arachnids.

@Eirik
Truth

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"Very well", the Ulfen bard said. Hmm... I wonder if spider silk would make good samisen strings? he considered to himself. Ameiko would like that.

Still holding the ratling by its tail, Eirik sheathed his dagger and brought his other hand up, under Skitterfoot's legs so the little half-creature could stand on his palm. "Don't be afraid. You answered truthfully, so I'm not going to hurt you", the darkhaired man spoke calmly as he knelt down and released his hold on Skitterfoot's tail, allowing the ratling to step down on the ground. Still on his knee, the bard looked the creature in its eyes as he took up his purse. "Follow the trail south, out of the swamp. There you will find a much bigger trail, that follows the edge of the swamp west, where the sun sets. Follow that trail, the Lost Coast Road, and eventually you will come to a large city. Go there, and find yourself a master who treats you better than Old Megus did", he advised the little ratling, essentially giving him the advice on how to reach Magnimar, the nearest large settlement.

"And this", he added, pulling out a single gold piece from his purse, letting the recently-minted coin catch the afternoon sunlight. "I'll give you - for a promise. That Skitterfoot never again comes to this swamp or near Sandpoint. Will Skitterfoot promise that?"

Throwing in a bit of Diplomacy in the end, to make sure Skitterfoot will not come back to exact his revenge. [roll0]

[Bhaakon]

Skitterfoot's bead eyes almost pop out of his head as you hand him the shiny new coin. "Oh, yes! Yes, yes, yes! Skitterfoot go an not come back," he murmurs, as he greedily seizes the coin and sets to work polishing it against his ratty pelt.

[Bad Situation]

Kasuka watches the antics with something approaching amusement on his face. "What a frightfully simple creature. I almost regret the way we have treated it...though, I imagine its simplicity explain a good deal of its capacity for evil..." A creature whose cruelty came as naturally as breathing was irredeemably evil, in his opinion but as the elf had said the matter of the ratling's life was firmly in the hands of the Ulfen who saved it. Kneeling down, the ninja wipes his wakizashi clean of blood while off-handedly responding to Skitterfoot's sad attempt at self-preservation. "We, or rather I, will not hesitate to slay you if you are to ever set foot in Sandpoint, beast. You would do well to remember that. Because no matter the deal you have struck with Eirik, if you present yourself as a danger to my home there will be no remorse."

At the mention of further exploration, Kasuka nods his head resolutely. "I am ready to venture forth as soon as we are all able." Despite his words, the young man is obviously breathing quite heavily.

[stack]

Lethos

The elf looks over the group after skitterfoot departs. "I fear we are not in the proper condition to face this witch should she prove...uncommunicative. I suggest we either make camp here or look for a suitably dry place part way in between. It has been an eventful day, we ought bind our wounds and rest to face the morrow better."

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

"That went well after all."

Says Caleban, his axe clean now. He gazes at the sky, almost by reflex.

"It is afternoon now, so there is no reason to push on more than needed. We could try visit the witch and hope it goes better this time, but I see why it would be better to be prepared.

So. Making camp here?"

[Thattaman]

Theodric sits down on the nearest tree trunk and sighs with relief at being able to sit down, "I'd have no objections to resting now before the sun goes down completely. I'll take first watch if no one has any objections." He gets his greatsword off his back and begins to sharpen it and admire the steel.

[Bhaakon]

Finally free, Skitterfoot clenches his coin between his teeth and flees down the path as fast as his rodent frame allows.

Exhausted by the march and battle, you set about turning the dead witch's clearing into a camp. The rubble of her home provides a ready supply for fire wood, with the damp, punky lumber billowing out a cloud of smoke that drives away most of the biting insects.

You take turns watching the treeline and trail for signs of attack, but the night passes uneventfully. It's not exactly a night in Rusty Dragon's finest suite, but hurts are lessened and your minds clearer as the day breaks.

Default healing is 1 HP per level for a night's rest.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

Eirik had watched Skitterfoot scurry away with his new treasure, even as the others began to set up camp. He was dirty, he was wounded, and his wordly possessions had been diminished once more.

Yet, he felt a strange sense of elation as the ratling disappeared into the undergrowth. He had acted according to tradition, without diminishing or silencing his own inner voice. The voice that his brother had mocked so viciously when their father was dead. You are no true Ulfen, Amlaff had told him, spitting on his feet as the older brother had sat down on their father's seat of honor.

He would mock even now, Eirik admitted to himself. But he himself knew better: no true Ulfen would kill a prisoner, and a prisoner released was entitled to recompenses if wounded in captivity. Skitterfoot had been prisoner, and he had been forceful in interrogating the ratling. He had, in his mind, done justice to his forebears and to the clan.

He's wrong. I am still Ulfen.

And that idea encouraged him.

With that, Eirik had returned to helping set up camp with his comrades. He was woefully unprepared for sleeping under canvas, but what he lacked in supplies, he made up in spirit. Once the camp was set, he was more than willing to take responsibility for taking the second watch after Theodric. And when evening began to fall, he broke out his harp and began to sing, hoping that the soft music and the hymns of the Song of the Spheres would soothe spirits if not physical wounds. And if requested, he would bring out the more earthly songs and ditties to bring out laughter in his comrades.

Come morning, Eirik was not surprisingly a late sleeper, snoring lightly inside his bedroll.

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban has a crooked smile om his face, as they set camp. They had not gone very far, but he is on the road again. He makes himself at home, unfolding his chair, smoking his cigar and eating with a healthy appetite. He notices that Eirik seems a bit preoccupied and so talks generally over the fire with his companions. He eagerly takes the worst watch, the third, which he spends with his blanket over him, gazing at the stars and smoking another cigar.

Ah, the stars! So much beauty in the sky, every night, so much promise, so much fate! Thank you, Desna, for this day!

The next day, he is up early, his percolator whistling merrily for his coffee. Not unkindly, he leaves a cup just below Eirik 's nose. Just beside it, he leaves some of tobacco. He whispers to the others

"That should wake our little peacock. Otherwise, it is a cup of water over the face"

[stack]

Lethos takes the darkest watch, untroubled by the blackness surrounding them so far from civilization. Any you watched would see him sitting cross-legged, his sword drawn across his lap, his lips moving silently.

Dawn finds him deep in his spellbook, readying himself for the day.

He speaks without looking up. "A cup of water would be a bracing start, I should think."

[Thattaman]

Theodric also wakes early and admires the sky, a beautiful sunrise is surely a good sign, a red sky for the colour of goblin blood. He counts his arrows again. 98 in total, enough for 196 goblin ears and 1,960 gp. That put a smile on his face, what would Shalelu say if he came home with that many ears? And he could buy Sandru that new whisky he'd been wanting. And maybe Ameiko would consider selling the Rusty Dragon to go adventuring with them again. His smile was even bigger then. "I'm betting the water is what he's getting, not waking for Erik."

[Bad Situation]

Kasuka frowns deeply and stares at the ground in consternation as though he is fighting an internal battle before looking away and nodding grimly. It was not was though he was too injured to go on. Besides the bite wounds he was in prime fighting condi- The surge of pain running up his leg says otherwise.

----
Bleary-eyed and grimy, Kasuka rises from his slumber in time to appreciate the rising sun. Kneeling at his bedroll, he rubs at the bite wounds inflicted the day previous, annoyed that they had not yet healed. Looking around to see if the others are not watching, he surreptitiously binds them in an obscuring cloth before pulling his pants legs down over them.

[Bhaakon]

When Eirik finally awakes, it's to a blinding headache and painfully swollen joints. His face is flushed and sweaty, and anyone feeling his head detects a low grade fever. Between the dozens of filthy rat bites, tromping through the fetid swamp, and exploring Old Megus's grimy shack, he's clearly picked up an infection of some sort.

@Eirik
DC 12 Fort save or

[roll0] Con damage
[roll1] Dex damage

[stack]

Lethos finally closes the book, stowing it carefully in his pack. Standing, he takes stock of the others injuries. Minor, mostly, my own included. That happens when fighting in a swarm of rats. The pale youth may be hiding a worse injury, however, that ought be dealt with before proceeding. The loud one appears ill, a poor sign.

"Ulfen, you are not well. Can you continue?"

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

Fort save [roll0]

Well what do you know... that actually worked :smallsmile:

Waking up, Eirik did indeed feel like crap. He ached in places he didn't know could ache in the first place, and he felt like someone had tied lead bands to his wrists.

"Gods, this is why I hate sleeping under canvas", he muttered as he picked up the steaming cup of coffee and started sipping on it. "Ugh... no worries, friend Lethos. I think... I think I'll be okay, once I get some coffee crawling down my guts. And I wouldn't say no to some bacon. Do we have any bacon? For the love of Desna, please tell me we have some bacon."

Maybe it was the coffee, or maybe the infection had already peaked during the wee hours of the night, but the young bard did start to look a little better by the time he finished his coffee and asked for a refill - even if that meant he was also his talkative and even annoying self again.

"If anything, I'm worried about this", he said as he pulled his collar back a bit. He had managed to staunch the bleeding in the evening, but the place where one of the biggest rats had managed to bite him was still raw and swollen, the bandages at the base of his neck still dark red with blood. "I... I know I'm not much of a frontline fighter", he said, trying not to think of Amlaff's sneering face. "and I know we're strapped for healing magic... but I would like to use a touch of my magic on myself. But only if no one else needs it. Those rats were a literal pain in the ass... among other places."

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban has a look frowning worry over Eiric, but he seems to recover quick enough.

"I bet this disease is female, you peacock. This is why it was attracted to you. And this is why it has left you next morning.

But yes, go ahead and mend yourself. I will go over and help Kasuka over there."

Matching words with action, the big half orc marches to Kasuka.

"Need a hand, neighbor?"

If the answer is affirmative CLW for [roll0]

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"Well now. Someone's in a chipper mood this morning", Eirik chuckled at Caleban's quips. "What's the matter, Cal? Forgot your chewing toy back at the Rusty Dragon? Or do you still have a rat in your pants, nibbling on that stick up your arse?" he quipped back, even as he began to cast a healing spell.

Casting cure light wounds on self, [roll0]

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

"Well, if your tongue works, you are OK. And you said you would buy me a chewing toy, with the accompanying dog, when you lost that bet last month. Still waiting on that."

Caleban continues to break camp as he riposts, his cigar smacking in his lips.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"Like that was even a fair bet. You knew that elf was a cross-dresser, and yet you still goaded me to have a go at her... him", Eirik huffed, rolling his eyes as he rolled up his blanket. "But since we're on the subject of lost bets... You still owe me a new cloak from Rhyshinn's after the bet before that. I'm still waiting, you know. Performing the Saga of Saebjorn demands a certain level of... gravitas, if you will."

[stack]

Lethos breaks camp in silence, trying to ignore the incessant banter. I should have kept the rat around for some intelligent conversation.

[Bhaakon]

I'm going off the IC conversation here, to move things along

Despite the inch of collected rainwater in Megus's rowboat, you find the hull to be sound. The five of you push it back into the water with little effort and pile in. It's a tight fit, and the water comes within a hand's breadth of pour over the gunwales, but you all manage to clamber in without sinking.

The water is still as you cut through the thick tulle fog hanging low on the delta. It's easy to get lost if you went any great distance, but route isn't complicate with a good map to follow: just keep the shore to your right and land after the third inlet. After about thirty minutes of stiff rowing, you ground the boat and secure it a few hundred paces from where the wreck is marked on the map.

Fighting your way through the bush proves much more difficult, though the trip is shorter as the crow flies. It takes a solid two hours of trudging through bogs and hacking through underbrush before you break out into a clearing with the remains of the wreck.

The lingering stink of smoke lies thick in the air, suggesting that fire which gutted the burned-out hulk was relatively recent. All that's left is a large mound of coals and the blackened nubs of two masts, a keel, and a few ribs. The whole thing is surrounded by a rough timber fence, probably meant to keep the horse corralled, when it lived. Now the sad animal is just a bloated hide stuffed with wriggling maggots.

[Bad Situation]

Kasuka steps out into the clearing, gratefully flicking his feet out in order to rid himself of the marsh's natural slime. As was quickly becoming custom, he draws his wakizashi* and creeps closely toward the remains of the vessel so as not to disturb whatever might possibly be lying in wait. He'd learned the hard lesson of kicking up activity back at the Megus' shack. Even now he could feel the miserable bite wounds festering at his shins. He looks up at the rotting hull of the ship with a curious glint to his eye. "A boat...but what is it doing here in the marsh?" Sparing a glance back to the others, he blinks and resumes his cautious approach. Hopefully they would remain quiet as he made his approach.

* - Not sure if we doled out the loot from earlier. If he's given the dagger, Kasuka will use it without question considering its balance and clearly superior make. Otherwise, he isn't really the sort to ask about weapons and the like.
Stealth: [roll0]
Perception: [roll1]

[Bhaakon]

Kasuka flits between the copious cover provided by the swamp, confident that nothing can see him. He silently makes a circuit of the charred bones of the wreck, but finds no threat. He's about to retreat back to the group when his foot catches on something hard sticking out of the cold coals near the bow: a ship's bell. He surreptitiously scoops it up and hauls it back to the others.

Brushing the ash from the bell reveals a handful of intricate, angular Minkaian characters followed by the bold Taldan block printing you're more used to. Both read the same: Kaijitsu Star.

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban watches the fleet footed figure walk in the march like a ghost. A small whistle of appreciation escapes his lips. But he holds his comments, not to alert anyone. He takes a hard look for anything out of the ordinary while waiting.

Perception take 20 for 27

When Kasuke comes back, Caleban frowns.

"What is that? Kaijitsi star? When did Ameiko have a boat? But no, this is way too old."

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

Following his fellow Desnan's approach, even Eirik kept his tongue in check as they waited for Kasuka to return. Not wanting to be caught with his pants down - proverbially, and hopefully not literally - he nonetheless pulled out his shortbow, in case something did show up.

Take 20 on Perception for 25. If not possible, roll with it [roll0]

When Kasuka returned, the young Ulfen frowned when he read the inscription on the bell. "Huh. The Kaijitsu Star... I could swear I have heard that name before..."

Bardic knowledge! [roll1] (add +4 if it's Knowledge (History)).

[Bhaakon]

@Eirik
The name does shake something lose from your voluminous memory, a story told in the Dragon one night while you were half listening and fully intoxicated. Longiku Kaijitsu, Ameiko's late father, was the sole survivor of maritime disaster, when a freak storm sunk the modest Kaijitsu merchant fleet--this hulk included. The family has since recovered a large portion of its fortunes, but old Lonjiku never put out to sea, or invested in ships, again.

Eirik and Caleban take their time searching the clearing, but there's not much more to find. A small collection of junk and bones (many of them goblin, none of them fresh) litter the fenced-in "corral," but nothing valuable or dangerous. There's a well-worn path leading to the nearest branch of the Soggy river-- the closest source of fresh water--and a far narrower trail heading off in the direction of the goblin village. Something heavy has been dragged along this second path since the last rain, plowing a wide furrow in the loamy earth and breaking off woody sprouts and branches.

[stack]

Horse dead, something heavy taken... "It would seem the village goblins have already been here. It seems unlikely that the wtch would have killed and left her horse in that state, though who could say for certain, but the trail back to their village...Whatever it was they had is certainly our concern now."

"The bounty notice mentioned explosives. The ship traded in Tian. I know what they took. We should hurry." His blade is in hand, pointing down the path to the village.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"If that is so, then whoever lived here must have packed the explosives in such a way that they were preserved in this musty environment", Eirik answered with a shake of his head. "I remember the ship's name. If memory serves, it was part of a modest merchant fleet led by Ameiko's father Lonjiku - a fleet that sunk with all hands dead, save for Lonjiku himself."

"I say we should take a closer look. With any luck, the goblins didn't ransack the place too thoroughly, and left some clues as to who or what lived here - maybe even supplies we could use. Or at least a journal or something... You know how the goblins react to written word."

[Bad Situation]

Kasuka's typically narrow eyes widen slightly at the revelation and for a brief instance, he turns around to take in the sight of the vessel. "No other survivors...save mother and uncle..." Staring at the bell in his hands with a look of consternation, he looks into the Ulfen's eyes and nods, speaking out loud in spite of himself. "...I agree with Eirik. There could be clues...relevant to the goblins and their goods amongst the wreckage that we may not yet know." Then, swiveling his head slightly he stares at Lethos, challenging him with the events occurring the day previous. "It would be remiss to overlook what is before us simply because you believe that you already know what is best."

[stack]

Lethos scowls, a familiar sight. "I am loathe to lose time when they may choose to employ their findings soon, but I have no objection to taking a moment to search or useful information. I just ask that we be quick about it." He sheathes his blade and strides to the ruined ship, eyes peeled for anything of use.

perception [roll0], searching the hulk

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"Only Iomedae knows how many battles have been lost due to poor intelligence. Her or maybe Gorum, but I don't think He really gives a damn", Eirik shrugged as he followed Lethos into the wreck, keeping his weapons ready as he began to look for anything useful. Supplies, hidden caches, journals... or at the very least, any hint on who or what was dwelling in the wreck of the once-proud Kaijitsu Star. If he could find some nice Tian-Min keepsake to bring back to his fair Ameiko, that would be just dandy.

Rolling Perception [roll0]
And maybe Bardic knowledge to find anything of particular interest, vis-á-vis on the identity of the witch - or something Ameiko might like. [roll1] (+4 if it's Knowledge (History)).

[Bhaakon]

You search the burnt out wreck completely, even raking through the coals for clues, but the fire has left little, and none of it whole. You find blackend bits of bones, a small collection of teeth that might be canine, a few metal utensils twisted and ruined by the fire, and hundreds of pottery shards, many of them the bone-white typical of fine Tian service pieces.

The dead horse, though rank and bursting with carrion-eating worms, bears more fruit. Most of its injuries are concentrated around the belly and legs, suggesting a foe far shorter than the horse. That analysis is confirmed by a single arrow, sized for a creature the size of a halfling or goblin, wedged deep in the carcass's empty eye socket.

[Bad Situation]

Kasuka bends down in the midst of the junk and carefully sifts through the trash with a thief's delicate touch, pocketing the fine pieces of pottery and carefully fitting them into his bag. They were dirty, fragmented remnants of the designs they once were but there was tragic bought in their frailty. If nothing else, they would serve as evidence of the ship's existence in case Ameiko thought to ask.

Dusting his hands off on his trousers, Kasuka turns his attention onto the remains of the dead horse. Examining the wounds on the equine's legs and underbelly he sniffs derisively. "Goblin work, no doubt..." Stalking closer to the corpse, Kasuka gingerly grips the arrow and begins carefully prying the thing out. Bows, as a rule of thumb, were generally expensive weapons. The means of purchasing, much less producing such weapons were surely beyond their means. It was a curious thing indeed.

With nothing left in the wreckage, Kasuka quickly climbs out and returns to the bank, watching and waiting to see if the others follow. If and when Lethos leaves, however he nods his head deferentially and says, "It seems you were correct. To the goblins, then?"

[Thattaman]

Theodric watches the scenario with the boat with curiosity and a hint of shock but when they see a dead horse there, he shivers and decides to go, "Come on, let's kill some goblins rather than spending days looking for help. First two guides gave us very little and this one sounds more dangerous than the other two, so lets not go there, why should we need to, just kill the scouts first, then slowly work your way inside, silently killing every gobbo you see. How's that for a plan?"

[stack]

Lethos nods to Kasuka. Replying to Theodric, "If they post sentries. Hard to predict goblins. But I agree, onward. There is blade-work to be done before the sun falls again."

[Bhaakon]

The game trail with the drag marks is narrow and shrouded in low-hanged vines and branches, but relatively clear near the ground. You make good time, only occasionally resorting to your blades to clear the way.

Without much warning the twisting track spits you out on a much wider, more established pathway. Considering that you've been heading more or less east and you haven't crossed any water, you can only assume that this is the Old Fish Trail, the one leading directly to the goblin village.

The drag mars gouged in the earth continue on this new path, heading to your right, though they're harder to make out under scores of more recent goblin-sized foot prints.

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban reflexively gazes at the sky, after their treck around the witch 's wreck.

"It seems that we are very close to the village now. Some strange things are happening. Why did the goblins become so aggressive now? What happened?
In any case, we need information. Is any one us good enough with silence? I am not."