bcool999's Jade Regent-The Brinewall Legacy IC

[bcool999]

GM Post

Sandpoint rests uneasily since rumors of the Brinestump Marsh Goblin's most recent firework fueled attack has made their rounds through the rumor mill. Stories of the recent attack have many citizens on edge, since it is the first such attack that has actually resulted in injury. The more excitable of the townsfolk even going as far as saying the goblins have learned to use magic. With the Sandpoint guard struggling to maintain it's normal patrols with the numbers it has, town officials have been forced to rely on the more industrious of their citizens to solve this problem.

Thus the reinstatement of the goblin bounty, ten gold per relatively fresh goblin ear, and three hundred gold for the head of the Brinestump goblin chief. A group of eager bounty hunters has already wandered into the swamp, but no word has yet returned about their fate...

So it happens that a group of acquaintances sit together at a table in the Rusty Dragon Inn. The smell of warm food and the low din of the other dinners creating a comfortable background as they examine a general map of Varisia between them. They plan their trek into the swamp for gold or glory as befits their motives.

Among the group is a well groomed gentleman who appears to be around the age of twenty five. You all know him to be called Henry Morgan, a resident of Sandpoint that has been traveling abroad for almost half a decade now. He recently returned to Sandpoint low on funds for more traveling and took the goblin bounty to be his chance at getting back out there.

______________________________________

Henry Morgan

Henry sat at the table with his soon-to-be companions seeing the fresh young faces around him. He grinned at the thought that, thanks to his potion, he also seemed to be a rash youth eager for a scrap. "Thank you for meeting under such short notice gentlemen," Henry begins stirring his tea as he talks, "When I asked some old friends for some names to join me on a goblin hunt I did not think to get such a turnout!"

Henry Morgan sips from his tea contentedly before adding, "Ah, where are my manners, proper introductions are in order after all." With a nod to each member of the party, he says, "Henry Morgan, world explorer and scholar of subjects both practical and esoteric."

Henry's cane, which leans against your table close to hand, appears to actually be a cleverly wrought sword and scabbard. Clearly Henry prefers to protect his gentlemanly image by appearing unarmed, but behind the facade the man is quite prepared for what dangers travel may bring.

You know of this man. Since his return to Sandpoint he visits Koya frequently, often telling stories of the places he has been and the people he has met on his travels. You are uncertain as to the nature of his relationship with Koya, and Koya herself tends to dodge the issue when asked.

Welcome! Introduce yourselves, order some ale from Ameiko (on the house for those going into the swamp tomorrow), or whatever! The adventure begins!

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

It's not like Sandpoint was unused to hardship, but this whole nonsense with the goblins seemed to suck the wind right out of the town's sails. Rollo couldn't get his head around it. So a few of the mangy frog-faced buggers had gotten their paws on a few sparklers and noise-makers, what of it? It's not like those part favors were any more dangerous than the rusty, filth-encrusted blades the little wretches usually sung about. But if the guard was was willing to fork out ten gold coins for an ear, well, Rollo wasn't about to complain about well-paying work being too easy. It was no wonder the earlier group of bounty hunters was overdue. At those prices they'd be turning Brinestump upside down to find every last gobbo.

The only question was whether there would be any left for Rollo and this group. He glances around the table for sixth or seventh time since taking a seat. Sandpoints wasn't a big town, so he was surprised to see that he didn't know the others terribly well. A couple names, half remembered, and he was sure that one was a regular at the Rusty Dragon, but then so was half the Lost Coast.

There's a pause as the organizer of this little expedition finishes his introduction, and Rollo blinks as he realizes that, as the one sitting to Henry's right, the other are probably waiting on him to start the round of greetings. Or they were all painfully shy. In either case, he puts an end to the silence before it can turn uncomfortable. "Ah, yes, I'm Rollo Magnusson, pupil, practitioner, and pursuer of glorious battle. Or at least profitable battle that isn't too inglorious."

He leans in a bit conspiratorially, "And don't listen if Ameiko claims that I'm a weaver of tall tales and drunken brawls. I assure you that my stories are based in fact, and it's hardly my fault if the audience was occassionally driven to violent outrage at the grave injustices sometimes recounted in the Sagas. It's only natural that right-thinking people be moved to rancor by such a performance."

[Desril]

Desril

Glancing around the table and sipping from his glass of water occasionally, the fiendling called up any memories he had of each of them. None especially unpleasant, but nothing particularly kind either. The downside of spending his formative years mostly alone, and more recent times away, he supposes, is that he hadn't had any bonding experiences with anyone in Sandpoint save for Ameiko. And none of them seem particularly perturbed by his appearance, That's a plus. Though I suppose anyone willing to sign up to go goblin hunting is willing to deal with a demon as long as it's after the little beasts too.

Smirking to himself, he listens quietly to Henry's and Rollo's introductions while studying the map, he speaks up right as Rollo finishes. "I think I heard a couple of your little tales. One of the fights started when you insinuated a certain someone's mother had, in fact, slept with a goat, if I recall correctly."

Realizing that he's already mouthed off and it wouldn't do any good to save his introduction for last, he continues. "Desril Tuathal, practitioner of the Arte Arcane and hobbyist swordsman. Honestly, I'm just here because I'm bored." Plus we can't just let the goblins go unchecked. I wasn't around to do anything about it the last time they got uppity, but I'm not about to just sit around now.

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

"As I said, based in fact." Rollo replies with a smirk of his own. "And I believe that the tussle ended with the poor sod chewing on my boot-leather, so there's more evidence yet." He lets the matter drop there without retelling the story, and narrating out the subsequent fight, in their entirety--there were still more introductions to be made.

[bcool999]

GM post

As the introductions continue, Ameiko Kaijitsu, the rather well known and popular proprietor and barkeep of the Rusty Dragon inn happens to come by with the tables drinks at the end of Rollo's rebuttal. "Which 'tussle' might you be referring to this time? I seem to recall one where a pair of my patrons dented my tankards on your thick skull and another where a chair was thrown halfway across the room at you! Shame it missed..." she says only half jokingly as she passes out a fine summer ale to each of you, with Henry waving his off. She eyes the map for a moment before saying, "Off to the swamp for a little bounty hunting are we? Now, the Brinestump is not as big as the Mushfens, but no one has bothered mapping it, so that little dark splotch on that map is about as good as you'll find. So if you don't want to wander around in a stinking humid swamp all day your best bet would be to find the self-appointed Swamp-Warden Walthus Proudstump." She shoots a challenging grin Desril's way and adds, "Of course, if you know better than following a simple barkeep's directions, feel free to do as you think best. Just don't blame me if you run into the Soggy River Monster."

Ameiko chuckles as she returns to serving drinks and food, leaving you all to decide on who to traverse the treacherous swamp to get at your wart-skinned prey.

__________________________________________________ ____

Henry

"Ameiko's advise is quite sound from where I'm sitting." Henry says as lounges comfortably in his chair, "We could do far worse in this enterprise than seeking a knowledgeable authority who has the lay of the land."

[ProudGrognard]

Gharrok

Sitting on one edge of the table in two chairs already creaking under the weight, sits what amounts to a mountain of muscle, right up to a ponytail held up in the Tian style. Gharrok has in front of him a tankard and keeps gazing at the fire, as if trying to determine something

Why are we not closer to the fire? Important meetings need to be in front of the Fire Maiden! Crazy lowlanders...

He then looks around at the table. He knew most of those present here. Rollo was good for a song and a tale, always fun. Especially when he was dodging tankards. Desril he had seen around, but Gharrok found him a bit strange. Wizards. Strange stuff. And Zhubin, well he did not count. Zhubin was almost kin.

Getting back to the task at hand, Gharrok focuses on the map. His booming voice is clearly used to carrying messages across valleys.

"Hello, hello, I am Gharrok, yes.I can guide you across any swamp, march, forest or mountain, yes, and I can keep goblins and other things away from you.

That specific swamp, I do not know, I do not hunt there, no. Perhaps a visit to this mister Walthus is not a bad idea. Ameiko usually has good ideas any way, hur hur hur.Though I have not seen a Soggy Monster. Is it good in a soup, Ameiko?

Hur hur hur."

[Desril]

Desril

Frowning at the blank blotch on the map indicating their destination, he'd already decided that he wished Shalelu was around and was debating who it'd be best to ask as a guide since she didn't seem to be. At Ameiko's suggestion, however, he changed his mind and smirked at her. "No soggy monster can get the best of me. Besides, what sort of adventurer needs a guide?"

Once she leaves to get their drinks, he smiles at her behind before he turns his attention to Gharrok. "I don't think we need to bother with a guide. It's not that bit of an area, and we can handle anything the goblins throw at us. Besides, the lack of a map is pissing me off, if we don't have a guide it'll force me to jot down everything so we can get at least a rudimentary map for the future."

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

The northman's rolling shoulders give and exaggerated shrug. "What's to guide? Goblins sure aren't subtle, especially not ones with stink bombs and thundersticks. Just follow the stench, smoke, and tortured rhymes." He pauses to take a long swig of Ameiko's ale, trying hard to keep from looking satisfied with the brew. The barkeep was getting a swell enough head as it was, with all the extra coin his performances were bringing in. A broken chair or three was just the price of doing business, and she made it all back plus a hefty profit with the conciliatory post-brawl rounds. Everyone knew that a night of drinking was the best cure for a cracked skull, busted fist, or bruised ego.

"And if we find a monster, well, maybe we can mount its head on the wall here above the fireplace there. The Dragon could use a few more actual trophies to go with all the hot air."

[ProudGrognard]

Gharrok

Gharrok pauses from eating what looks like food enough for a village and says

"Goblins holed up can be dangerous critters, yes. Asking for a map is never a bad idea, unless you like mosquito bites. Nothing to lose, no, nothing. But I can make do without a map."

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

"Then find one if you can, though Ameiko claims no one has bothered. Either way, I say we be off at first light. The longer we wait, the fewer goblin ears will be left for us." Rollo tilts back his mug and quaffs the remainder of his ale. "Unless you'd all rather trudge out in the dead of night and camp in the swamp. Maybe some gobbos will make it easy and come out to attack." He adds, not seriously expecting anyone to agree.

[Desril]

Desril

Smirking, the tiefling gives answers with just a hint of condescension in his voice, "I'm all for going at night. But then again, I was never scared of the dark. If we're going to wait until morning, we should at least do something productive in the mean time."

I suppose I could scribble down a scroll or two to kill time. Or maybe throw some amusing ideas into the drunker patrons of the Rusty. Oh, that one, that could make tonight memorable...wonder if it's going too far though? I mean it's not like I want to hurt anyone.

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

"If you think a little gloom will give me pause, you've got a another think coming." The big northman harrumphs, sizing Desril up with the crooked stare of accomplished tosser of the liar's dice. "Might even be worth it to trade a decent night's sleep in a proper bed for a few hours' up on the competition."

What do you say? He looks around the table, his gaze finally settling on Henry Morgan, their organizer. "A solid rest, or a head start?"

[bcool999]

Henry

Smiling at his companions youthful vigor, Henry nevertheless waves a hand at the suggestion of a night trip to a swamp. "Now now, I am thrilled to see this groups initiative, but there is no need to go off half cocked, racing into the marsh just to break a leg. Besides, one night in a swamp will make the less outdoorsy of us miss our warm soft beds terribly, and I have always believed in indulging oneself where one could."

Seeing the excited gleam linger in an eye or two, Henry lifts his hands in defeat and says, "But if it is the will of the group to have us all trudge out of here in the night so be it."

[ProudGrognard]

Gharrok

Gharrok pauses from his eating, a rather serious look on his face.

"Night walking in swamps is no drinking game, you crazy lowlanders. You must respect the swamp, yes, otherwise it will eat you alive. Especially you night blind humans.

No, I say we go at the morning."

He abruptly smiles, which is more or less like a cave opening in a mountain.

"That way, we have our drinking game here, yes?"

[Desril]

Desril

Almost as interested in the idea of drunkenly implanting suggestions in the minds of the bar patrons, Des shrugs after glancing at the humans in the group before replying to Gharrok. "I suppose you're right. It wouldn't be fair to torch-bearers if we went tonight, and it's hard to turn down a good bed when it's offered. But if we're going to waste the night away on a drinking game," he smirks, "shouldn't there be some sort of prize?" Waiting for Ameiko to come back, he asks her the next time she passes by, "Hey, barkeep, what'd I win when I drink this lot under the table?"

[bcool999]

GM Post

Smiling wickedly, Ameiko looks around the table and replies, "From the looks of it you would win a healthy amount of heavy lifting since I certainly won't be carrying any of you anywhere." Laughing softly she continues, "Or perhaps you were trying to win a song off me? Things are starting to slow down so I may gift the winner with a request."

________________________________

Henry

Finishing his tea, Henry consults the mental clock in his head, considering how much longer his youthful appearance will last. Finally deciding not to stretch his luck, he stands and gives his companions a nod before saying, "I am afraid there are still some affairs I must see to before we depart tomorrow. Please enjoy yourselves, but remember, we will meet at the gate by the eighth bell so please don't be late."

Grabbing his cane, he leaves some coppers on the table for the tea before bidding his farewells and making his way out of the Rusty Dragon.

While the reason for his departure seems reasonable enough, You can't help but wonder what business Henry could have at this hour. Perhaps one of a personal nature? But surely he could see to those on his return. Whatever it is, you feel as though he isn't being totally honest.

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

Hiding his relief that the group has decided not to march out immediately, Rollo turns his attention to the important matter at hand. "A contest, then? I suppose there's time to drink you all under the table and still get in a full night of shut-eye." It was important to set a pecking order in these kind of groups, a task made all the easier by Morgan's sudden departure. Probably can't handle his liquor.

"So, shall we skip the preliminaries and get straight to the hard stuff?

[Desril]

Desril

Interesting. What could it be that couldn't wait until we return, or be done in the morning? Oh well, nothing I can do about it now. Besides, I've got something more entertaining in mind...

Eying up his companions, he nods at Rollo. "Warm-ups are boring, I agree. But first, is it safe to assume that no tricks are allowed and we aren't allowed to use magic of any kind, either to make it easier for ourselves or more difficult for our opponents? And what are we going to wager?" Pausing for a second, he continues before anyone can answer, "Actually, hold that thought...I want to go discuss something with Ameiko before I'm too drunk to remember it. Let me know what rules you decide on," he says as he rises from the table.

Moving to lose himself in what remains of the Rusty's crowd, Desril looks for a modicum of privacy in which to cast a spell undetected. Might as well try to make sure there's a prize worth winning. A song is nice, but a show to go with it would be better, I'm sure you understand. Besides, this spell doesn't force you to do anything, so in the worst case, I'll just have wasted the effort.


Stealth check to vanish into the crowd if necessary/cast without arousing too much attention [roll0]

Casting Sow Thought (DC 16) on Ameiko with the idea of, "Hell, they might get killed tomorrow and they're going to be drunk off their asses tonight, I should let the winner have something special. Maybe a striptease to go with the song..."

Of course, it's not a Suggestion, so there's no way to know if she'll actually go for it even if she fails the save, but she'll at least blush for thinking about doing it, and that's enough for me! On to the drinking game then? How are we going to handle this?

[bcool999]

GM Post

As Desril somewhat obviously makes his from the groups table in the middle of the room to a secluded corner to 'work his magic', Ameiko is waving goodbye to a few regulars as she pours herself a glass of wine to unwind for the day and possibly warm up for a short song. Desril finishes his spell as she finishes her first sip of the wine, and suddenly Ameiko stops to stare queerly at the glass in her hand for a moment before setting it down to serve the drinks for the up coming drinking contest.

In the spirit of being quick and easy I propose having contested Fort saving throws from the three of you, winner wins a gp prize (Split with Ameiko for cost of drinks and paid for by losers) and gets a song from Ameiko (which grants a special 1 use boon for tomorrow). Losers suffer the effects of a hangover for the first combat of the next day (treat as sickened). Sound good?

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

Rollo snatches up the first class as soon as Ameiko sets it down and throws it back. He slams the empty cup onto the table, upside down, with a satisfied smack of his lips. "One." He exclaims, reaching for the next serving.

The rules and rewards are amenable to me.

Fortitude save!

[roll0]

[Desril]

Desril

Matching Rollo drink for drink, the wizard quickly calculates his odds of victory and, despite figuring from Ameiko's reaction that she recognized his idea as not her own, decides to steel himself against the alcohol's intoxicating effect. Thank the goddess that I took that lab on concentrating while drugged...though I think it was meant more for surviving being poisoned by an imp than winning a drinking contest, he thinks with a grin.

[ProudGrognard]

Gharrok

Gharrok laughs as the drinking game begins. He hasn't had one for over a year! But why did these humans start play it with common beer? They should put a dose of kharak in each tankard! And where is the chief of the town to officiate? Strange way to have a drinking contest...

Muttering under his breath, Gharrok starts matching drink for drink, with the tiefling and the human. In between, he gives progressively more dazed looks at his books, which he had planned to study this night.

By the Crow, could that tiefling drink!

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

Somewhere around the fifth round Rollo remembers, much to his chagrin, that the group had not eaten supper. Nor had he taken in anything solid since the night before. One can only drink so many meals in a row before the stomach objects. Loudly, and with great vigor.

And that tiefling! What foul brew flowed through his veins? Some sort of magic must be at play. There was no other explaination. Rollo could take losing to the mountain of a half-orc, but that spindly tome-fondler was another story. He musty be up to something. That must be it! Rollo opens his mouth wide to voice his objection.

*Hurk*

[bcool999]

GM Post

As the drinks flow and the game wears on, first Rollo loses more than just the match and then Gharrok's head dips once, twice, and finally lands on the table with a thud passed out cold, leaving Desril as the (perhaps unlikely) winner of their friendly competition. Admitting his defeat with grace (though perhaps with a suspicious glare or two sent Desril's way) Rollo passes over the coin he owes and takes on the grim task of carrying Gharrok home.

With the tavern nearly empty around this time (save an elf woman passed out at a table nearby) Ameiko goes ahead and closes up for the evening before giving Desril his song. She looks at him critically for a moment before starting. The song is preformed well, but what really demands attention is when she begins to dance. Slow sinuous movements that might make one wonder whether it was the drink that was flushing Desril's cheeks, and might make Desril rethink the effectiveness of his earlier spell. The dance remains just a dance and all clothing stays on, but you've known Ameiko long enough to know that this was quite a different dance than she may preform in a crowded tavern.

While the song and dance Ameiko is performing in front of you is certainly entrancing, some mental discipline from your training keeps you from being totally enraptured. Thus it is that during the performance out of the corner of your eye, you notice a second elf appear next to the passed out one. He shakes his head (for this elf is male) in apparent disappointment and mutters a few words and gestures at the passed out elf. The spell (which you identify to be a Telekinesis spell) causes her to rise gently into the air at his command still stubbornly clinging to her last bottle. He walks upstairs with her in tow before disappearing from sight in a room. He then returns alone to look at the spectacle transpiring in the common room (Ameiko being too wrapped up in her performance to notice the elf's presence) before shrugging and Teleporting away.

It doesn't take a keen mind to deduce that those two elves were non other than the pair of elves who are considered town celebrities. The Wizard Taladron, and the Pharasmin Cleric Brin. They are undoubtedly THE most powerful practitioners of magic in Sandpoint, and quite arguably the most powerful in the whole of Varisia unless a traveling archmage or divine herald happens to be visiting.

After her rather memorable performance, Ameiko is quick to shoo Desril out of her tavern and lock up for the night.

The Next Morning

Clear weather and bright blue skies greet this new day (perhaps too bright for some), and a crisp breeze keeps the summer heat, insects, and morning fog at bay, promising excellent weather for traveling.

While last nights excitement may find some of you in higher spirits than others, all concerned find Henry Morgan waiting patiently at the appointed position. Excitedly twirling his cane in expectation at their imminent departure Henry says his salutations to all before getting to the business at hand. "Well Gentlemen I hope your evening was enjoyable, but I also hope it was restful. We have quite the day ahead of us I should think!"

With the party gathered, Henry sees no reason to wait and makes his way out the gate with a skip in his step. After all, there is plenty of time for chit-chat on the road to the Marsh.

[Desril]

Desril

While he was barely able to stand up straight last night, the tiefling recovered quickly and woke up brimming with energy. In high spirits after his evening, Des actually doesn't look agitated as he normally would so early in the morning. Instead, he gives a friendly wave to his companions as he joins up with them and Morgan. Well, he's not wrong, let's just hope we find something interesting and we don't spend hours trudging along with nothing to show for it.

Doing his best to sound smug, he grins at Rollo and Gharrok. "You two alright? Last time I saw you, neither of you could stand on your own."

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

Still fighting a hangover, an effort not aided by his inability to stomach anything solid for breakfast, the disgraced Ulfen's answers is a dark mumble peppered with blasphemes against the treacherous mongrel Cayden Cailean. "May Gorum piss in his lager. Now let's hit the road (if it would just hold still for a minute)" He finishes, the venting of bile somehow assuaging his nausea. For about three steps, anyway.

He shuffles along after Henry, leaning on his long-hafted hammer and trying to remember why he'd taken on this adventure. Oh, right. Money. And now, to claim more ears than the bookworm. We'll see who's smug on the walk back to town.

[ProudGrognard]

Gharrok

Gharrok arrives at the appointed place in considerable good shape, having spent his last gold in the alchemist 's, to get rid of the nausea. Brimming with weapons, he looks appraisingly at the others. In Desril 's jab, he replies with cordial half-orcish dignity.

"That was beginner 's luck, yes. We will see next timei, with a proper drinking contest.

Now, I am ready to sweat some of the drink off."

Reflexively, he touches the wyvern tooth hanging from his neck and reassures himself that a small potion bottle made of steel is by his side.

[bcool999]

GM Post

The weather remains fair as you set off from Sandpoint heading North until the Lost Coast Road turns south towards your destination. Few travelers, and only one Sanpoint road patrol, are seen on the road as news of the goblin attacks has cut most traffic down to local farmsteads heading into town for necessities. After about an hour or two of travel, the party reaches the northern path into Brinestump Swamp which local fishermen frequent when plying the waters of the swamp.

Should you take the New Fish Trail, you swiftly find yourselves descending a short incline off the Ashen Moors and down into the Marsh proper where you are quickly swallowed up by the thick swath of vegetation that surrounds the fishing trail. Even the trail itself seems to be barely holding its own against the wild undergrowth as tree roots and weeds make the already muddy trail even more of a trail.

In deeper in the swamp can be heard periodic animal cries, but be it a combination of the overgrown trees or the slight fog that pervades the area, the cries seem more harsh and threatening than the cries of wild life found outside the marsh. Also as you make you way deeper into the swamp you often hear rustlings in the underbrush right off the trail as hidden creatures flee at your approach.

I am going to need 2 sets of perception checks from each of you.

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

Contrary to his late mother's oft-repeated advice, an invigorating walk wasn't doing much good for what ailed Rollo. Or ale-ed, as the case may be. The battalion of overweight dwarves in full plate continued their march across his skull, probably searching for the orcish sappers hard at work in his belly. Something told Rollo that the inevitable clash would be less than pleasant.

Despite his earlier bluster, Rollo was glad of the fact that their trudge through the eerie confines of Brinestump had been uneventful so far. The fog even cut the glare of the morning sun, a boon for the those with a bleary-eyed hangover. The constant chatter and rustle of wildlife might have kept him on edge if he wasn't dealing with more pressing internal concerns. "Just another hour or two." He murmurs to himself, sipping from his waterskin in a vain attempt to wash away his misery. Next time, hair of the dog.

[Desril]

Desril

Feeling much better about last night than Rollo, the tiefling does his best not to laugh at the human's obvious unease, too busy thinking about the potion he'd spotted their companion quaffing and trying to keep notes on the natural landmarks to jot down a rudimentary map. A transmutation of some kind, but there's a wide variety of effects it could have. It'd need to be something that lasts for several hours at least, so not the simple strength and endurance enhancers...no matter. It shouldn't be an issue.

"You know, I don't think I've ever been so deep in a marsh. Is it just me or does everything sound so...hostile in this fog? I almost lit a rabbit on fire a few minutes ago."

[ProudGrognard]

Gharrok

Gharrok is on his last coins, but he doesn't seem to mind. He gave his last gold piece to the alchemist to buy a remedy for his bad drinking yesterday, but now that he is on the road, these concerns are behind him. Initially, he is his usual cheerful, laughing self but as the company gets deeper into the swamp, a gradual change sips over the mountainous half-orc. His gaze becomes more alert, his poise more taut, his pauses longer and longer. Gharrok spends several times scanning the nearby premises. In one hand, he holds the great axe, almost the size of a human. In the other, he has a javelin ready.

When Desril speaks, Gharrok replies, without getting his eyes of the environment.

"This is true, yes. We are in the land of the hunter and hunted here, and everything takes both roles. Best be alert, yes."

But then, his turns and his smile is back in place

"A rabbit would have been good, yes. Hur hur hur. Maybe later, I will hunt. I need the practice, yes"

[bcool999]

Henry Morgan

"Well I am glad you held back your flames my good sir. Never cared for the scent of burning hare." Henry Morgan replies with a chuckle at the wordplay that quickly dies off given your surroundings. "I must say though, if this is the most frequented path in this marsh I would deeply hate to visit the others." This last comment is punctuated with a grunt as Henry frees a foot from a particularly stubborn patch of muck on the edge of the path.

*GM post*

Before long, as you continue to follow the trail, a creek comes into view with a wooden bridge spanning it. The water is slow and placid, with enough algae and silt in it to make the water opaque making the depth hard to determine. However, the slow pace of the creek also makes it quite possible to ignore the bridge and swim across should you so choose. The bridge itself is a soggy wooden affair complete with missing slats and overgrown with moss. Across the bridge, you see the continuation of the path you are on wind deeper into the swamp towards the dwelling of the Swamp Warden.

I am going to need the marching order from you guys, on assumption I have Gharrok up front, followed by Desril, Henry and Rollo. If that is accurate please say so. Otherwise work out the order amongst yourselves, Henry is cool being placed wherever.

Oh and before I forget, 1 more perception check from the lot of you... you can also make an engineering check if you have the skill to determine how bad off the bridge is.

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

Distracted by his hangover and litany of mumbled complaints, Rollo nearly plows into Henry when the group halts before the half-rotten bridge. He looks over the moldering edifice, poking a few of the more suspect-looking slats with the long haft of his hammer. "Why don't you try it out, Gharrok." He asks with a smirk. "If it will hold you, it will hold the rest of us. And if it won't hold you, well, more of you will stick out of the muck."

It was only logical, after all.

[bcool999]

Henry Morgan

Walking up to the bridge, Henry examines the posts that the bridge is anchored on, and the heavy ropes supporting the slats. Lastly he looks at some of the slats (albeit from a distance). "This bridge isn't as bad off as it appears, see there." Henry says pointing at one slat in particular, "I can tell from here that that slat was a recent replacement... see how only the cut edges have started swelling? This bridge does appear to receive some maintenance, though perhaps grudgingly."

[Desril]

Desril

Spotting the signs of the bridge maintenance, though not studied enough in that area to recognize them for what they were until Henry explains, the tiefling debates with himself about the best course of action.

"You know, this is goblin territory. I've heard that during that incident two years ago, the bridge to Thistletop was rigged to collapse by the goblins. Falling into a creek won't kill us, but...if this thing is rigged to break, there might be something more dangerous than just water waiting for us to fall in. At the very least, it will probably alert anything nearby to our presence." He pauses, "Or maybe I'm just being paranoid. I can never tell."

[bcool999]

*GM post*

With other options of crossing the creek being distasteful, the party trusts in Henry's assessment on the bridges structural integrity and begin the crossing with Gharrok in the lead to put the bridge through it's paces. He makes it halfway across with the bridge holding up wonderfully, and Desril puts a tentative toe on the bridge to go next when a surge from the water below catches the entire party by surprise as a dark mass out of the water and onto the bridge behind Gharrok.

Partial Charge Bite Gharrok: [roll0] Vs. Gharrok FF Hit
Damage: [roll1] + 1 str damage + 1 con damage and Gharrok is grappled.

You all recognize the creature to be a leech, but of monstrous proportions making it almost the size of a dwarf. It leaps up out of the water with surprising speed through a gap in the bridge slats and begins attempting to bite at Gharrok with it's blood sucking teeth. It catches Gharrok unawares and sinks it's teeth into his chest slurping happily at his blood.

Desril: 27
Henry: 21
Gharrok: 13
Rollo: 10
Leech: 4


http://i304.photobucket.com/albums/nn178/bcool999/SwampBrigdeR1.jpg

G = Gharrok
Leech = Enemy
D = Desril
H = Henry
R = Rollo

[Desril]

Desril
HP 9
AC 13

Seeing the leech suddenly burst onto the bridge, the tiefling jumps slightly, startled by its sudden appearance. I knew it! Paranoid? Hah!

Drawing his stylized sword, he holds it in unsteady hands, swinging it in a practiced but uncertain overhead strike and calling out as he does. "You two are better in melee than I am! Cover Gharrok, I'll get it from range!"


Move - Draw Lover's Embrace
Standard - Slash
Free - 5ft Step to I5

Attack [roll0] (I'm assuming we still get flanking even if it's grappling with the flanker? If not, -2. Though it should be taking like -4 to its AC, so I have....fair odds)
Damage [roll1]

Anyway, sorry for the short post. I'm 15 minutes overdue for going to bed! >.>

[ProudGrognard]

Gharrok
AC 18, HP 9, Grappled, -1 Str/Con

Despie his tirade on hunters and hunted, Gharrok grunts in surprise when the leech fastens on him. With a shout full of rage, Gharrok flexes his muscles to throw the thing off.

"I WILL BREAK YOU!"

Atk to break the grapple [roll0]

EDIT: Poor Gharrok... things are just not going your way...

[bcool999]

Henry Morgan

Stepping out of the way for his more melee orientated companion Rollo to engage, Henry palms a potion a guzzles it in the blink of an eye. The air before Henry gets wavy and distorted, like the air above a hot stone in a blistering summer. He also draws the blade hidden within his cane and points with it across the creek. "Over there another one is crawling out of the water!"

5ft. step to I3
Move action use accelerated drinker to drink a potion of Shield
Standard action draw sword cane.
Free action, speak about the new enemy appearance.

http://i304.photobucket.com/albums/nn178/bcool999/SwampBrigdeR15.jpg

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

It takes Rollo a moment to register that the big slimy blob that latches on Gharrok isn't some imagining of his beleaguered brain. That thing it way too big to be a leech, even if it spurts a disconcerting amount of blood when perforated by the tiefling's sword. Really, that must be near a pint of the red stuff spurting out on the bridge and dripping through the slats. It's not believab...By Gorum's steely bullocks, it is real!

Rollo takes Desril's advice, dropping the spiked head of his polearm in the hopes of skewering the enormous bloodsucker cleanly off Gharrok. RAAAAGH..hurk! He begins a heart warcry, but chokes it short as the metallic burn of his gorge bubbles up to the back of his throat.

Draw hammer, 5' step to I4, and attack leech #1. Sickened penalties included in rolls

[roll0]
[roll1]

[bcool999]

*GM Post*
Combat Round 2

With a might slash, Desril nearly slices the leech clean off of Gharrok, but with mindless determination it stubbornly clings to it's meal. It is less fortunate as Rollo skewers the vermin and rips it bodily off of Gharrok, flinging it into the mud where it's ruined body writhes aimlessly and then stills.

Now the only threat remaining is yet another leech as large as the first on the opposite side of the bridge.

The last map is accurate enough, I can make a new one if you want but I believe the only difference is that the first leech is dead.

Desril - 27
Leech - 21
Henry -21
Gharrok - 13
Rollo - 10

=> Desril

It is something I saw another DM do to indicate who's turn it is. I thought it was neat and tidy so I am stealing it from now on.

[Desril]

Desril
HP 9
AC 13

Seeing the first leech fall, the tiefling spreads his wings reflexively before quickly calculating how best to act next. I could close in on the other and slash at it as well, but it isn't distracted like the first was by other prey. No, better to keep my distance this time...

Coming to that conclusion, he nonetheless rushes ahead of the others, but rather than charge the leach on the shore, he stops before the end of the bridge and, after carefully aiming so as not to ignite their walkway, sends a torrent of flame out from his hands to engulf the remaining creature.


Move to E4, cast Burning Hands for [roll0] (Ref 16 for half)

[bcool999]

*GM post*
Combat Round 2

Having freshly emerged from the creek, the leech was hurt only slightly by Desril's flames and advanced (albeit awkwardly) on him hungry for blood.

Seeing his companion across the bridge facing the Leech alone, Henry feels unable to give aid with the barrier of the creek (possibly hiding more leeches) and the bodies on the bridge blocking his way. "Look how awkwardly it moves on land. Perhaps if we lure it to this side of the bridge we can surround and slay it before it has a chance to attack?"

http://i304.photobucket.com/albums/nn178/bcool999/SwampBrigdeR2.jpg

=> Gharrok, Rollo, Desril

[ProudGrognard]

Gharrok
HP 9

Gharrok, in his attempt to throw of the leech, almost throws his axe into the river. But finally, the rest hack it off and Gharrok emerges, enraged, with the leech slime on him, but only slightly hurt. Seeing another one come out, he finds an outlet for his rage. With a mighty roar, he swings his axe in a wide circle, almost shouting at Desril

"Step aside!"

I think we can move and attack through the square of a friend. Gharrok attempts to pass through Desril to attack the leech with a power attack

Atk [roll0] dmg [roll1]

EDIT: For the love of Gygax! Them rolls!

[Bhaakon]

Rollo
HP 11
AC 15

"Look at him, Henry. He's well past the point of planning." Rollo mutters as Gharrok, careless in his haste to hack the advancing leech to pieces, nearly bowls Desril into the soupy mire. "Just be glad we're too far away to get any of the splatter when he finally connects."

Still, it's not in the northman's nature to just sit back and spectate a fight. He drops his long hammer on the trail and yanks free one of the clutch of javelins strapped to his pack. With a quick side-step to get a better angle, he lets the weapon fly.

Free: drop lucerne hammer.
Move: draw javelin.
5ft step to I5.
Standard: attack.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[Desril]

Desril
HP 9
AC 13

Switching his grip back to handling the twin succubi gracing the hilt of his sword, Des gives a quick horizontal slash before trying to back away from the overgrown annelida. "One of you care to finish this thing off? I still need more practice before I'm comfortable on the front lines."


Attack [roll0]
Damage [roll1]

Move to H4. I'll probably provoke, but I can try an Acrobatics to avoid it. [roll2] (DC = CMD, I think)

[bcool999]

*GM Post*
Round 3 combat

Gharrok, enraged at the previous leeches blood letting, nearly bowls over Desril in his haste to close on the enemy. His axe, however lands solidly and the leech writhes around in pain. Rollo attempts to aid the assault from the shore, but with the mass of bodies on the bridge his shot goes wide. Not comfortable being on the front lines with the leech a few feet away, Desril slashes warningly at the leech and attempts to back away to safety. The leech, perhaps sensing it's prey's flight, and hoping to gain sustenance to heal, lashes out at the wizard and lands a vicious bite latching on. Being so caught in mid flight, Desril struggles to maintain balance and ends up switching locations with the leech before collapsing onto the bridge from pain and blood loss.

AoO: 1d20+2: 14 vs AC 13 HIT
Damage: 1d6: 6 Desril is Grappled
Leech's turn auto bite damage: 1d6: 4 and 1 str damage and 1 con damage
Desril is at -1, unconscious and must roll to stabilize.

Seeing the Teifling go down under the Leech, Henry looks to the bridge that was still blocked by his ally, and then out at the water separating him from the other side. He then looks down at his weapon and, cursing in at least three different languages, hurls it at the beast.

Attack: [roll0] + [roll1] (burning 2 inspiration points). Hit?!?!? :smalleek: That... is awesome!
Damage: [roll2]
Yeah... Henry can't do anything to help from here so lets see if this impossible shot hits. :smallannoyed: Hush your mouth me you don't know what your talking about.

Throwing his sword cane end over end, no one is more surprised than Henry when it lands point first into the leech and sinks down to the hilt. The leech, perhaps just as surprised, seems not to notice the fatal wound for a few moments, but then it gives a sudden jerk and slids off of the downed teifling.

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

The big ulfen lets out a surprised whoop as the sword cane strikes home, shocked that that Henry's desperate heave had actually struck home. "I'd tell this story in the Dragon, Henry, but I don't think Ameiko would believe me. Even heroes in the sagas don't hit when they toss their swords." He calls back jubilantly, his hangover momentarily forgotten as he works his way out towards Desril's pale, unconscious form.

He bends down and grabs the tiefling, trying to ignore the bridge's moaning, shuddering protests at bearing the three of them (more like four, really, considering that both Gharrok and Rollo himself were large enough to count as a man and a half). "Get up bookworm. How are we going to have a rematch on that drinking game if you fall to an overgrown slug?" He chides while channeling his magic.

cure light wounds, repeat as needed for Desril then Ghorrak (unless something comes along before Rollo's spells recharge).

[Desril]

Desril

Picking himself up and doing his best to do it gracefully (his best isn't very good in that regard), and having missed Henry's throw, the tiefling grunts at Rollo's comments. "Well. I did say I wasn't really comfortable in the front lines. I've been practicing with the blade, but even once I have that down I still don't have armor. Let's see you fight one of those things in just a bit of cloth and see how you look."

Smirking and rolling his arm, he continues. "Sorry, didn't mean to sound so agitated. That's not the enjoyable way to get sucked dry, but I shouldn't take it out on you. Thanks for the healing."

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

"For the record, I would look spectacular." Rollo flexes a bit and flashes a winning grin to accentuate the point. "But it would be lost on this audience."

"Now let's keep going, before my headache catches up with me." He says once he's sure his companion are back on their feet for good. When they got back to town, he'd have to tell Sandru how he'd discovered a new treatment for a raging hangover: deadly combat. Nothing put minor aches in perspective like watching someone getting munched on by a dog-sized leech.

[ProudGrognard]

Gharrok

That had not been Gharrok 's best swing, but it connected nevertheless. Surprisingly, the leech still lived. Even more surprisingly, a flying swordcane passed through the press of bodies to latch into the leech, sending it off to leech afterlife. Gharrok looks up, deep into leech gore to look at Henry with an utterly amazed "you can do that?" look.

Then, forever practical, he washed off the remains in the river and searches for anything valuable nearby.

Perception [roll0]

[bcool999]

Henry

Recovering his blade from the leech, Henry cleans it off while saying to the others, "Well, that was a bit of excitement wasn't it? Though don't expect me to throw my blade quite so well in every battle." Waiting while his allies heal, Henry keeps watch for further dangers, but it looks as though all is quiet in this neck of the marsh for the moment.

After the party recovers, they once more move along the path deeper into the marsh. The slight lightening of the foliage that the water provided now closes back in to the point that they feel suffocating. Nerves strained during the first stretch of marsh are now rubbed raw in the foggy humid heat. Something is wrong, but what?

Straining your ears for sounds of danger around you yields no danger... in fact... they yield little more than the sound of your own heartbeat and the movements of the party... it is as though a predators shadow has fallen over this section of the marsh, and all life holds it's breath hoping to be overlooked.

[ProudGrognard]

Gharrok

Gharrok, still pumped with adrenaline after the fight, continues to walk in front. After a while, he turns to the others.

"This is too quiet, yes. Something dangerous hunts here, yes. Besides us!"

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

The trudge through the swamp's sauna atmosphere was starting to get a bit taxing, and the scale armor--its padding now weighed down with a solid pint of perspiration--wasn't helping. When Gharrok calls a halt, Rollo takes the opportunity to guzzle down a few mouthfuls from his waterskin before replying to the half-orc's concerns.

"Goblins, you think? Not that I really expect them to be quiet." He shrugs, not bush-savvy enough to offer much of an alternative beyond the obvious. "Nothing to be done but keep a wary eye as we march. If whatever out there is smarter than a leech, it might decide we're too much trouble."

[Desril]

Desril

Rubbing the ripped patch of his robes where, despite being healed, the skin is still tender from where the leech bit into him, the tiefling nods at Rollo. "Hopefully, yes, but it's probably best to stay ready for anything, just in case. If whatever it is is big and stupid enough, numbers won't deter it. And this time, I think I'll try to be ready for it..."


I can't use this again for 5 hours after it expires, but screw it, Mage Armor.

[bcool999]

Henry

Perception: (1d20+7)[16] rolled elsewhere

Also hearing the dread silence, Henry looks around as well, and in a hushed voice says to his companions, "Goblins do not cause animals to grow this silent... We must have entered something's territory when we crossed the bridge..." He motions for the group to resume moving, "Let's get moving, the longer we linger the longer whatever it is has to decide we are prey and not predators."

As the group pauses to consider the environment they find themselves in and agree that danger is in the air, their conversation must have startled something up ahead, for a solid thump and a quick scurry of brush being disturbed can be heard from the path ahead. As you listen the sound of the brush disappears, but not before you discern that it was not moving in your direction.
[roll0]

Henry hisses with a sharp intake of breath and lowers into a crouch when he hears the sound, motioning for everyone to get low. He whispers, "Something was on the path ahead..."

[Desril]

Desril

Scowling as Henry warns them of something on the path, the tiefling glances ahead. "It might take us a little off the trail, but I'm not really comfortable with something out here that can scare off all the animals and stay out of sight. I vote we track whatever you saw down. I never really believed the rumors about the Soggy River Monster, but, well, the Sandpoint Devil is real, there might be some truth to this myth too, and I'd rather it not ambush us, whatever it is."

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

"Whatever it is, I'd rather it attack us here, on the path, than try to fight it off in the bush. We're like as not to stumble into a pit of quick sand if we chase after it." Rollo argues, imagining trying to swing his unwieldy polearm about amid the grasping underbrush and low-hanging vines. "Besides, it ran off. Probably just some simple hunting beast that's learned not to challenge humans...or, um, more exotic bipeds."

The Ulfen tucks his skin back in his pack and wipes away the sweat that's threatening to drip down into his eyes. "I'm with Henry, stay weary, but keep marching. Unless the title if for show, the Swamp Warden will know if there's anything more dangerous than goblins out here."


If possible, Knowledge (local) to recall any rumors about the 'monster" [roll0]

[bcool999]

*GM Post*

As you move ahead on the path to where the beast was, you see that it left something behind in it's flight. A battered and bloody half-orc lays sprawled upon the trail unmoving. Drag marks show that the half-orc was being pulled by something, but it is difficult to say what. Whatever it is, it left three fingered footprints in it's wake.

The half-orc still lives, but more than his wounds keep him unconscious. It is difficult to say when he will awaken, but magic alone will not suffice to heal him.

You recall the legends of the recently mentioned Soggy River Monster which started a few years ago, and you also recall rumors of young travelers and local farmers and their kids disappearing in this area starting at the same time... You wonder whether rumors of one relate to the other.

[ProudGrognard]

Gharrok

Gharrok approaches the maimed body, with caution, looking reflexively around.

"We might get to put a head over Ameiko 's fireplace after all, yes?"

Even as he speaks, he scans the ground for tracks. His hand goes reflexively to an old, old pouch that slashes around his wait.


Perception [roll0]
Survival [roll1]

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

"Try not to stave its skull in when we find it." Rollo he replies to Gharrok as he does his best to tend the fallen half-orc's numerous wounds. "Unless it's a giant chicken making those three-toed prints. No, wait, an enormous rooster's head on the wall would be pretty close to perfect."

When he's done he gives the fallen half-orc a gentle shake. "Wake up, now. Our intimidating presence has saved you from...whatever that was."

No ranks in Heal, sadly.

[Desril]

Desril

"So four guys walk into a swamp and come out with a giant **** to show off. I'm sure Ameiko would love that one," the tiefling comments while chuckling at the terrible joke.

Seeing the unconscious half-orc, he moves to its side and crouches down, looking for a pulse while racking his brain to figure out what creatures he knows of with the strength to do this and three toed feet. An abberation, maybe? Or magical beast. Humanoid possible. Unlikely to be draconic or undead.


Heal (untrained) [roll0]

Knowledge! We probably don't have a chance of identifying it yet, but eh, may as well try.

Arcana [roll1]
Dungeoneering [roll2]


.......did I just double nat 1?

[bcool999]

Henry Morgan

[roll0]

When Rollo starts shaking the unconscious half-orc Henry steps in and says, "Be gentle we don't know the extent of his injuries." before taking a look at the man and giving his inexpert opinion.

*GM Post*

You can tell by the muddy footprints that whatever was here was heading east both before and after it dropped it's prey.

Unfortunately, you can't be certain by the prints alone what type of creature this is, you can easily rule out Elf, Orc, Human or similar, but without catching a glimpse of the beast you can only tell for certain that it is bipedal and roughly the size of a man based on the depth and spacing of the prints.

Should you look to the left of the path into the swamp you notice something strange. A pale face pokes out of the vegetation a ways off the trail watching the party with malevolent eyes, when spotted it flees deeper into the swamp, but not before you notice the grotesque clawed hands surrounding it's maw. (This entitles those trained in dungeoneering to make a knowledge check)

[ProudGrognard]

Gharrok

Afte checking the footprints and the sky several times, the half orc points east.

"Whatever that was, it went that way, yes. And it came that way too, yes."

He then gives Rollo a toothy grin

"Stave his skull, no, I will not. But I will separate it from the rest of it, yes!"

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

Rollo grins, happy that his joke wasn't too subtle for this crowd. He lets off shaking the recumbent half-orc and stands, staring into the bush in the direction of Gharrok's pointing finger. "You think you can track it down before it circles back to collect its prize?" He asks expectantly, clearly looking for some excuse to indulge his lust for glory over the more reasonable course of taking the injured man to a proper healer.

"Maybe take him with us? I think we can bodge together a stretcher from some sticks and my bedroll. It will be a tough slog carrying him through the undergrowth, but better than leaving him here."

[Desril]

Desril

Unable to figure out anything about how hurt the man is but not wanting to simply leave him lying and dying, the tiefling shrugs his shoulders and turns to Rollo. "Can you do anything about him?"

When Gharrok gives them a direction, he nods. "Whatever it is, it's dangerous, I stand by what I said earlier; we track it down and put an end to it. If for nothing else then to protect future travelers from this," he says while gesturing to the half-orc.

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

"The bleeding stopped, didn't it?" The skald snaps back at the tiefling, waving grandiosely at the web of scar tissue on the half-orc, slowly fading away to healthy flesh as the remnants of the healing magic completes its work. "But if it's something worse than cuts and bruises, he'll need a proper cleric. All I can do is make sure he won't bleed out before we find one. Externally, at least."

The northman lets out a ragged, grumbling sigh. Even he could no longer evade the logic of the situation. "As much as I hate to say it, I suppose we should forgo the glory of the hunt for the moment and haul this half-orc's half-carcass back to Sandpoint." He grumbles. "Unless you think that Warden fellow might have some healing talents? I bet he does, living out here like a hermit. He's closer, at least, and I'm pretty sure that it's not a good idea to blunder around with an injured person farther than is strictly necessary. If worst comes to worst, we can leave the casualty with the warden while we go back to town for aid."

Rollo finishes with another long pull on his waterskin, swishing and spitting out the last mouthful, as if washing the unpleasant aftertaste of reasonable argument from his mouth.

[ProudGrognard]

Gharrok

At Rollo 's suggestion, Gharrok frowns, a sure sign he is thinking.

"We cannot take him and fight, no. It will be death for all of us, no. I say we go to the Warder and put him there, yes. Then, we take him back with us.

I can track the thing, yes, for now. But we should get him to the Warder. No?"

[Desril]

Desril

The wizard shakes his head, "And if the creature ambushes us while we're on the road, what then? At least if we're hunting for it we'll be more prepared." Stooping down to pick up the half-orc, Des mutters to his unconscious form, "Come on, Nanami, you're not dying out here. Let's go find whatever did this to you."

To the others, he continues, "I'll be personally responsible for his safety, he's not that heavy, and I can cast even if I can't draw my sword properly like this. Besides, if we figure out what attacked him, we can figure out how to heal him."

[bcool999]

Henry

While disdainful of wading into the murky depths of the marsh, Henry nevertheless sees the logic in tracking down this mysterious predator before it strikes them. He lends a hand with the stretcher as the group makes slow agonizing process east.

*GM Post*

The farther east you travel, the more hostile the marsh seems. Strange hissings and howls can be heard, possibly from the beast you track as you head deeper into it's territory. With a shock you notice the mutilated corpse of a rabbit placed directly in your path it's blood still moist and body warm showing that it was placed deliberately and recently, perhaps to warn you off, but definitely putting the party on guard. The sucking grasping mud drags moral even lower as each step forward becomes a hard fought battle made no easier by carrying a supine half-orc.

Eventually, you reach a small rise out of the marsh muck. A rare island of solid ground relatively free of mud and a depository of driftwood and fallen logs for when flood waters carry them to this islet. The path indicated earlier seems to lead straight for this location... but there is no sign of the beast or a den for it.

While at first the islet seems devoid of shelter, you soon realize that the bile of driftwood branches and other swamp debris is actually not a natural construction of flooding, but in fact an artificial construction, albeit a sloppy one. Perhaps this is the beasts lair? There is an opening on the southern side leading in.
On the southern side of the pile of driftwood and swamp debris you notice something out of place... bones. Picked clean and scattered among the underbrush, a varied collection of bones of all shapes and sizes makes identification of the species they belonged to difficult. However, there are a few about that resemble humanoid bones far too much for comfort. Perhaps this is where the beast drags back prey to be eaten?

[ProudGrognard]

Gharrok

Gharrok leads through the swamps, his axe in hand, following the tracks. Finally, they arrive at the strange dirt mount. It takes his a second to pinpoint what makes him so edgy.

"Bones, there, yes. Human bones. It is around here somewhere"

He tries to see if the tracks lead elsewhere. His hand is in the strange vial he carries.


Survival for track [roll0]
Ready action to swallow the mutagen.

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

Rollo rubs the sweat off his palms to steady his grip on his weapon before following Gharrok's gaze to the disturbingly person-sized bones. "I guess it wasn't just barroom bull, then." He replies coldly, the heady rush of the hunt quickly waning as he stares at the monster's grizzly rubbish pile. The goblins were an annoyance, true, and noisy enough with their fireworks to put a fright into a few fat merchants, but whatever had done this was a real menace.

Hammer in hand, Rollo walks over to the bones and tries to judge how many victims they represent.

[bcool999]

*GM Post*

Examining the bones in greater detail, Rollo finds it difficult to find complete skeletons. Here and there he can see wing bones from birds, a few rib cages from lizards or small rodents, and a few larger bones from deer or even goblins or humans. However, the scattered and often broken nature of the bones makes it difficult to count all the beasts meals, or necessarily what the meals were.

Your closer inspection of the bones does however uncover an opening in the driftwood mound that you failed to notice from afar. Without proper lighting it is difficult to see what lies beyond the opening without getting in there and letting your eyes adjust to the darkened interior.

[Desril]

Desril

Setting down his orcish load, the tiefling draws his blade as he moves next to Rollo, resisting the urge to question how humans can survive with such weak eyesight as he peers into the construction too.


Perception [roll0] (I think it was +1, but I don't have access to my sheet right now. Also, I basically won't be available to post at all for the next 36 hours, just FYI)

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

"Whatever it is sucked 'em right down the marrow," he observes, noting how many of the bones were broken. "I can't make head or tails of this, but maybe if he just collected them all and brought them back to the temple, the Father Zantus could figure somth...Oh, hello. Looks like something's nest" He interrupts himself once he spots the shadowy opening in the pile of debris.

Cautiously Rollo retrieves a torch from his pack and lights it, the flame guttering in the pervasive damp of the swamp air. Once he's sure it's caught, he tosses the light through the door of the camouflaged den and charges in, weapon ready.

[ProudGrognard]

Gharrok


Gharrok watches with incredulity as Rollo goes in the nest. With a roar, he follows him suit. Crazy lowlander!

I guess I will not have time for my mutagen...

[bcool999]

*GM Post*

As Henry stays back to protect the stricken orc, the rest of you go and investigate the interior of the mound. After your eyes adjust to the inside, some of you may feel silly for your shouting and stomping about because after you all pile in there is very little room for much else to be inside the mound. However, as your eyes adjust to the dim light, you all notice the bloodstained articles of clothing lining the walls, as well as some bedding made of mud, reeds, and dried grass.

The clothing appears to be from more than a dozen people, some men, women, some are jackets, small clothes, pants, and other miscellaneous clothing. They match only in their uniform state of being ripped nearly to shreds and being covered in blood... with much of the blood centered around the rips in the cloth.

Also in the cramped, dripping mound as you search it is a strange mound of mud piled up near the bedding with 14 discernible lumps in it. Should one of you scrape off the mud you are greeted by the sight of a skull, sloppily encased in mud in an attempt to preserve it as a trophy. However, it seems to have had the opposite effect and leaves little to identify the identity of the deceased.

http://thumb9.shutterstock.com/display_pic_with_logo/622978/622978,1297375467,6/stock-photo-real-human-skull-configured-as-crime-scene-71060446.jpg

[ProudGrognard]

Gharrok

Gharrok looks around grimly at the gory trophies. They would have to take them back, so that relatives could identify their lost brethen. He begins to search the lair. As he does, he asks

"What sort of creature does this?"

Perception [roll0]
Survival [roll1]

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

"Not a hunting cat." A shaken Rollo murmurs as he tries to rub glob of mud he'd scraped from the creature's collection off his hand. "I don't think a goblin, either. Maybe a madman. The Warden might know, if we don't find it first."

[bcool999]

*GM Post*

1d20+10 = 25 + 1d6 = 6 inspiration = 31 Pass

As those inside the mound ponder the grisly dwelling, Henry keeps watch on the surrounding swamp. Hairs prick up on the back of his neck as the silence and fog make him almost believe his companions are not just a stones throw away investigating the creatures mound. He takes a quick draw of his hourly potion to help calm his nerves, yet with the only sound that reaches Henry being the pained breaths of the half-orc at his feet it does little to sooth him.

Then a figure rises from the surrounding vegetation. Doglegged with hairless skin, hateful red eyes, and a hideous visage complete with a maw that splits open at the chin to reveal grasping hungry claws and sharp teeth, the beast charges forth out of the surrounding brush attempting to rend Henry to shreds and reclaim it's prey.

As the beast charges Henry cries out, "Sinspawn!!!"

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1] + Will save.

Monster: 12
Henry: 6
Rollo: Roll Init
Desril: Roll Init
Gharrok: Roll Init

OOC: There is no map for this one, and I don't feel like drawing one, you all should be within 30ish feet of Henry and the beast so after Henry does his surprise round you guys can go in initiative order.

[bcool999]

Henry

Caught off guard by the Sinspawn's sudden appearance, Henry quickly backs away to avoid the creature's bite. He draws his weapon, quite honestly wishing that he was not fighting the beast on his own.

5ft. step, Draw Sword Cane

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

"Straighten that backbone, Henrym we're right behind you!" Rollo shouts when he emerges from the filthy charnel house of a nest to find their expedition's leader already on the defensive. "I don't know what that 'sin spawn' thing may be, but I'm pretty sure he's got a brain and a heart to poke full holes behind those...er...freakishly unhinged jaws."

"Did I ever tell you the story of Snori Shorttooth, the a cabin boy who fought off a rabid scag with not but his whittling knife..." He calls out, slipping into proper cadence to spin the tale. He tactfully omits that Snori was a strapping lad of 14 stone, whittled with a boarding axe, and nearly burnt down his ship when he broke one of the navigation lanterns over the monster's head.

Move action to leave the den and move up next to Henry, standard to begin Inspired Rage performance (+2 Str, Con, +1 Will, -1 AC to anyone who wants it)

[ProudGrognard]

Gharrok
HP 12 AC 17 (In.Rage included)

His blood boiling from the tale that Rollo spins, Gharrok turns around and starts running to confront the monster. With a cry that is more roar than words, Gharrok goes straight for the monster, taking a significant portion of the walls with him.

"I AM GOING TO BREAK YOU!"

Power Attack Charge (if not possible subtract 2) and In. rage [roll0] dmg [roll1]

[bcool999]

*GM Post*

Giving an inhuman screech at the grievous blow it received from Gharrok for 20 damage, the Sinspawn turns it's head at Rollo, nostrils flaring as though it smells something on the Ulfen that it wishes to maim. It steps toward him and attempts to do so.

Bite: (1d20+3)[15] Damage: [roll0] + will save on hit
Claw1: [roll1] Damage: [roll2]
Claw2: [roll3] Damage: [roll4]

Rollo: 19
Gharrok: 17
Wrathspawn: 12
Desril: 9
Henry: 6

=> Desril

[Desril]

Desril
HP 10
AC 10 (Inspired Rage, Charging)

Hanging back as the sinspawn shows up, the tiefling lets Gharrok gets its attention before moving in himself, having learned his lesson about getting too close to the enemy. Instead, while waiting for the moment to strike, he calls out a warning, "Be careful of its teeth! This is a wrathspawn, if it bites you, you'll be overcome by rage!"

Not believing a word of Rollo's story, the tale is still inspiring for the tiefling, convincing him that now's good enough and that a charge will be more helpful than standing back. Besides, I may ignite too much if I use a spell.

Sword gripped in both hands, the wizard launches himself toward the enemy, intending to bring the blade down in a diagonal slash at the base of its neck.


Charge, if possible, if not, -2 to attack and +2 to AC [roll0] (another +2 if flanking is possible :smallcool:)
Damage [roll1]

[bcool999]

*GM Post*

With the sudden assault from it's den, the creature is quickly surrounded and hacked into pieces. Even in this state, with it's head barely connected to it's shoulders and its torso rended horribly, it still twitches and tries to bite those that come near a time or two before falling still, with the dull red glow of hate never leaving it's eyes.

Henry

Sucking in a breath to release the jitters that the battle brought with it, Henry sheathes his blade and says, "I have read about sinspawn and even encountered a few before in my travels... Luckily they can only form near a well of arcane power, but I heard the one is Sandpoint had been destroyed three years ago... Perhaps this one escaped their cleansing and has hunted this marsh ever since?"

Shaking his head to dismiss the thought of rampaging Sinspawn flooding the countryside, He turns to the rest of the group and says, "Well, I am quite pleased with the companions my friends and contacts in Sandpoint have provided me with. Each of you is fleet of foot and strong of arm, but let us use these skills to hurry the injured to the Swamp Warden before we strike out for the goblins."

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

Henry was right about this group, the sinspawn-creature was lying in a bloody chunks in the mud, and he'd barely even begun the preamble to Snori's tale. The bold youth hadn't even stumbled upon the foul trollkin slaughtering the napping watchmen yet! Oh well. Save the rest for another day, I suppose. He tells himself.

He cuts the story short and nods agreement with their organizer as he quickly heals his own wounds. "Aye, no reason to stay here now. We should mark a trail through the bush so that someone from town can come collect the remains. We'll not be able to carry them all."

[Desril]

Desril

The tiefling nods his head at Rollo, having calmed down from the brief battle rage. "I agree for marking the path, but does anyone have a sack we can put this thing's head in? A sinspawn isn't quite the trophy I was hoping for, but I'm sure Ameiko would appreciate the head of the 'Soggy River Monster' all the same."

I wonder what it's doing here...Henry may be right about having escaped the purge 3 years ago, but...hmm...

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

Staring down at the sinspawn's gruesome maw, Rollo reconsiders his earlier position. This monstrosity was both too human and too...not for a proper trophy, even a joking one. Besides, he didn't have a sack big enough.

But the tiefling wanted it, so be it. "Nah, you'll just have to carry it. Keep your hands from that mouth, though, looks like it's still a bit peckish."

[ProudGrognard]

Gharrok

Gharrok looks at the sinspawn a bit apprehensively. He shakes his head.

"Ameiko, will mount the head of whoever tries to mount this head in the fireplace.Yes. Noone will want to eat and drink with this head watching. No."

Crazy lowlanders. Besides only chiefs and masters of the hunt can wield trophies. But these lowlanders do it differently. bah. They still do not make sense, after all those months.

[bcool999]

*GM Post*

As you continue back on the path to the Swamp Warden, you notice that this portion of the swamp has returned to what you were familiar with when first entering the swamp. That means that startled shrieks and random rustlings hound your steps, but at least the dread silence is gone.

After a bit of walking, (and another bridge, but no giant leeches this time), you all arrive at a dwelling, swollen with moisture sitting next to the Sog Bay, beyond which lies the open ocean. You seem to have found the Marsh Warden's Hut.

[ProudGrognard]

Gharrok

Gharrok again becomes less talkative as they approach the hut. He takes a look around to see if the Warden 's hut shows any strange signs. After all, he might not be alive, and predators love premade lairs.

Perception [/roll]1d20+6[/roll]

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

Seeing the half-orc companion make the rounds of the Warden's home, Rollo shrugs and follows suit. It might be a bit rude, but he felt confident that he could smooth over any ruffled feathers should the reclusive warden take offense. Two ambushes was enough for one day.

Finally, I remembered the +1 bonus from the competitive trait!

perception: [roll]1d20+4[/roll edit: [12] in ooc.

[Desril]

Desril

Seeing his companions take a more cautious route in searching the perimeter, the tiefling decides to let them handle the task, debating calling out but deciding against it and silently waits for them to give the clear.

[bcool999]

Henry/ *GM Post*

Seeing his companions beat about the bush as it was, Henry (who is still helping to carry 1/2 a half-orc), takes the initiative and knocks on the cabin door.

Those close enough to the door can hear a thud consisting with the sound someone makes when being startled awake, the quick steps to the door and the growled and slurred male voice saying, "Whossit? Watchawant?" only serves to confirm that image.

Along with the grogginess of the speaker which is obvious from the tone of voice and the slurring, you also detect a quiver of fear in the man's voice as though worried that his visitors may wish him harm.

[Desril]

Desril

Figuring a simple and honest answer is best, the tiefling speaks up. "Travelers looking for aid for an injured friend, and a guide for the marsh."


Sense Motive [roll0]

Diplomacy [roll1]

[bcool999]

*GM Post

The voice behind the door considers your proposal in silence for a moment before saying, "Well... my place really is a mess and in no state for visitors, but I suppose you can come in and let your friend rest out of the muck." the voice says before opening the door and giving you all your first look at Walthus Proudstump.

http://dfry.warpmail.net/JR/Walthus%20Proudstump.jpg

"Come in come in, go ahead and set your friend down there on the settle while I whip something up for you all. So you need directions around the swamp you say?" Walthus says as he makes his way through the main room of the house which contains little more than a chair and a few (slightly damaged) potted plants, into the dinning room which contains a smallish table with a single halfling chair. There he begins pulling out pots and bowls and stocking the small stove in the dining room.

[Bhaakon]

Rollo

Somehow divining the halfling's ragged nerves, Rollo stays uncharacteristically subdued as he he accepts the invitation into the swamp warden's home. He even leans his big hammer against the wall outside the door so as not to scare the little chap (and also to avoid toppling anything valuable. Swinging around a pointy-ended six foot polearm indoors was a hazard to eyeballs and valuables alike).

Not finding a chair fit for a human, Rollo makes due by sitting cross-legged on the floor. it was good to get off his feet after trudging through the swamp, and it put him more or less at Walthus's eye level. "Aye, Master Walthus. Sandpoint's put out a bounty on goblin ears, and we're here to collect it. We came here hoping that you could give us directions to their camp so that we might approach unnoticed."

"But that was before stumbled on Nanami here, savaged by some kind of split-jawed monster called a sinspawn. We tracked the thing to its nest, and, well it looks like it was feeding on travelers for months, maybe years." Always with a flare for the dramatic, Rollo pauses to emphasize a final word. "Was."

[ProudGrognard]

Gharrok

Gharrpk trying to fit in a halfling house has something of a comic quality. He hunches and walks extra carefully, just to be sure he does not break anything by accident.

Just before they all get in, he whispers.

"This man is afraid of us, yes. We should be careful."