[IC] The Axe of the Burning Desert [4E]

[Felhammer]

The Axe of the Burning Desert


https://i.ibb.co/Hg2Rjmg/Horde-Hammer-small.png

The Mahara left their old homeland and courageously ventured into the unknown. The seas were choppy and ridden with storms. Many ships were lost to the unrelenting waves and the attacks by vile sea monsters. As the Mahara neared the coast of the lost continent of Renje, the wild folk’s ships ran aground on rocky reefs hidden just beneath the water’s surface. The King Among Wild Folk braved the blade-like reef and the crashing waves to be the first amongst his people to step foot on their new homeland. He dubbed this land Daggerblood, after the peninsula’s knife-like shape and the rust colored earth that covered it. The King sent many scouts out to explore the continent, commanding them to head in all directions for a week, then return to report back what they have learned of the neighboring lands. While his scouts sallied forth, the Wild King set up his Yurt atop the tallest hillock on the peninsula.


https://i.imgur.com/jmORppn.png

That was a week ago. The Wild King’s yurt is now surrounded by a sea of other yurts and tents. The wild folk in the camp have come to call this place Reddawn and speak of how it will become the center of Maharan culture on this continent. Govromm, Chieftain of one of the largest groups of Mahara who made the perilous journey south to Renje – the mighty Frosttoem Clan – grew disgruntled with the Wild King’s insistence upon “cowering” in the hills while they wait for the scouts to return. Following a loud shouting match between the King Among Wild Folk and Govromm, the latter lead his people off the Daggerblood Peninsula and north to a place along the newly christened River Courage. Thereupon the Chieftain founded the Camp Frostwatch. A second disgruntled chieftain – Gwaza – of the Bluesong Tribe also left Reddawn. Gwaza lead his blue dragonborn east, into the mountains that tower above the coastal lands.


https://i.imgur.com/qBPEXUo.png

Many of the other clans, equally eager to explore the continent and establish their own communities, have grown impatient and wish to begin largescale settlement of Renje as soon as possible. Yet the Wild King persists in his view that the Mahara must wait until they know of the dangers that lurk on this unknown continent. It has been two weeks since the Mahara came to Renje and only one scout has returned. He spoke of massive predatory lizards and gigantic flightless birds with razor sharp talons that dwell in the lands to the south. As the third week slowly approaches, none of the other scouts have returned. With each passing day, the clan leaders grow more and more dissatisfied with their current situation and persist in their desire to begin settling the land.

During a grand meeting of all the clan leaders, the King Among Wild Folk reluctantly called forth several bands of fearless braves. You were one of these braves. He tasked you and your fellows with heading east into the mountains with the goal of finding the missing scouts and to survey the land for future settlement. After the meeting ended, and the clan leaders dispersed, the Wild King privately confided in you that the loss of the Bluesong Tribe was a terrible blow to the unity of the Mahara. Gwaza has always been headstrong and impetuous but his abandonment of Reddawn caught everyone by surprise. The Wild King asked that you find Gwaza and convince him to return home.


https://i.imgur.com/8lcpTLK.png

By the time the meetings had ended, night had fallen upon the land. You now find yourselves in a yurt that has come to be called the Melting Snow, which serves as one of the alehouses in Reddawn. The establishment is run by a buxom goliath named Hoaalohakupa'a. She is a sultry woman who raised in a traveling dwarven circus. While at the circus, she learned many languages and how to brew many kinds of alcohol. She escaped her captors and joined the Wild King many moons ago. Hoaalohakupa'a served as the King Among Wild Folk’s translator when dealing with the Vamwe, since she was fluent in all their tongues. With the Maharan exodus to Renje, her skillset became far less useful. She retired from the King’s tribal court and created the alehouse to give the Maraha a place to relax and leave their worries at the door flap. Scattered around the yurt are paintings of various snowy landscapes she had acquired after a raid on a particularly brutal and bloodthirsty Vamwe baron’s castle.

[Taya]

The purple Thri-Kreen sits quiet in the table, cross legged. Her presence is strange, with a multitude of small, immovable compound eyes that shows no expression whatsoever. A creature more insectoid than humanoid, with a pair of legs and two pairs of arms. With her bottom, smaller and shorter arms, she eats a portion of food she ordered earlier. Between forkfuls, with the upper, longer and bigger arms, she smokes from a long smoking pipe.

Cloth stays silent, slowly eating and smoking.

[masteraleph]

A brass colored creature comes in, covered in scales and with wings folded behind her. In one hand she bears a staff, in the other a rod carved with the head of a dragon. One of her gauntlets has a small axe attached, and it appears to be stained with small amounts of blood. She is wearing chainmail that seems like it has seen better days. She clears her throat and says quietly

"A drink if you would, Hoaalohakupa'a; whatever you think is appropriate. It's been a long journey here."


You hear a crackling sound, almost like a series of sparks, as she clears her throat.

[Snowbluff]

Qephetzial, Solitude and Loneliness

A strange, elf-like creature suddenly appears behind Cloth. It’s skin is eerily pallid, and shadows dance and play across its skin in an unnatural way, irrespective to any lighting in the room. It’s eyes are black as pitch- nay, pits from which little light escapes. could be said to be pretty by Vemwa standards, with the soft skin of a young woman and attractive features, but the perpetual wrongness of its presence might assuage any such feeling. It wears flattering, albeit dark clothes that may have been fashionable to one species or another, many centuries ago.

“You should be careful about smoking,” Qephetzial says to Cloth. Her voice is surprisingly soft, but devoid of any joy, like a widow at her husbands funeral. “Horrible things have happened to people who have done that in the past.” She means her best, but her words are often unwelcome, and sometimes even vaguely threatening. Qephetzial walks around the thri-keen and takes a seat at the table, and peruses the menu.

The Shades don’t have a regimented social structure. They arrived in the King’s Band piecemeal, with Qephetzial being the first. They’re more often unseen than seen, which is has been unsettling for some of the other races, a feeling made worse by the rumors of the their origins. Still, they seem happy enough where they are. Despite the unrest other clans have had about the slow colonization, the Shades appear content to be somewhere that doesn’t kick them out immediately.

[Taya]

Cloth turns her head to Qephetzial. "Your words are welcome." Cloth voice is hoarse and almost "crackly", and between almost all sentences, a few clicks can be heard coming from her mouth. She turned her head in Qephetzial's direction, even though her eyes allow her to see from the sides. "But this is from a natural plant. My friend planted them himself." Cloth inhales. "Besides," she exhales, "I already don't have much time to live, compared to most flesh creatures like you."

Cloth notices the scaly member of their group arriving, and signals for Surina to come in and sit in the table with them.

[Lord Haart]

Sohwa the sorcerer


A puma (https://img-aws.ehowcdn.com/877x500p/cpi.studiod.com/www_ehow_com/i.ehow.com/images/a07/bb/0f/cougar-woman-800x800.jpg)-headed rakshasa enters the yurt, wearing a long-sleeved robe of coral silk over a brown linen vest, with matching brown baggy pants. A traveling bag is slung over his right shoulder; a baldric over the left one, keeping a two-handed sword strapped to the rakshasa's back. The sword itself has a straight and thin, somewhat fragile-looking, blade of blackened iron, with a golden hilt adorned by a blood-red tassel.

He wears ornamented gold bracers on his feet, and gold bracelets on his ankles; his gauntlets, while made of thick brown leather, have golden scales covering the back of the hand; a necklace of black marbles hangs from his neck, and his belt is adorned with rubies. A two-feet long bansuri flute is tucked behind the belt.

This bare minimum of rakshasa regalia does not quite hide the small traces of self-neglect. There are grease spots on the vest that have been washed but not removed; the sandals are heavily worn, and the bag had its sling stitched together after a tear. His mane of dark brown hair has been carefully braided into shoulder lenght dreadlocks, but his goatee, once clearly well-groomed, has grown somewhat shaggy. He doesn't quite appear unkempt yet, but he's clearly leaning that way.

The rakshasa widens his nostrils at the smell of smoking plants, but says nothing. His sunken blue eyes sweep the inside of the yurt with a sharp and attentive gaze, stopping on Qephetzial for quite a moment, and taking in the Vamwe drawings.

He waves a paw in the air, as if trying to catch the smoke. The whispy strands coalesce in his grasp, and a smoking pipe takes form, clearly in imitation of Thri-Kreen's.

— I like your smell, — he says in a voice somewhat sharp and unpleasant, as he walks closer to the insectoid, and extends his pipe towards her.
— Do you mind if I partake?


The pipe is an application of the Mental Tools power.

[Taya]

Cloth

The Thri-Kreen moves her head, keeping her eyes in the rakshasa's direction, instead of facing him. "An interesting ability." She rummage through her bag in the ground before taking out a small leather bag with a dark green fine rope tied around the opening. "Go ahead." She hands it to the puma. It contains a small amount of the plant, ground finely. "My name is Cloth. Pleased to meet you." She nods.

Honestly I know jack **** about smoking anything so maybe I'm describing something incorrectly, idk

Also I'm assuming we don't know each other, just because Cloth would be very weary of a Rakshasa just because of her predator-prey instinct. A Rakshasa tend to be a predator rather then prey.

[atlastrembles]

Broken Antler - Cervitaur Shaman

- always was a Vamwe-damned fool engorged by the though of his own glory, but Gwaza, what was he thinking?! rumbles out from Melting Snow's door-flap as it is whipped open. Ducking under the lip of the yurt, careful not to catch his antlers, a stag-headed minotaur (cervitaur) eases his way into the makeshift bar. The setting sun casts ray-like lopsided shadows from his tines, one half of his rack long-ago shattered and broken, but still impressive in their span. Around them twine bits of leather and coloured cloth and feathers, claws, and other natural fetishes are woven into and dangle down from, the rest.

The recent arrival quickly stops his tirade as insectoid, vaguely humanoid, scaled, and furred heads turn to watch. He quickly dips his head in mute apology, sending the fetishes swaying gently. He sighs and signals to the goliath bartender as he settles his bulk - all 7'2" and 300+ pounds of him - into a comfortable cross-legged position on the yurt floor. Now settled, the cervitaur scans the room and sees that he's taken up position among a group of fellow Mahara - a thri-keen, rakshasa, a shadeling, and a dragonborn. Blinking slowly he inhales the second hand smoke and noticeably relaxes, his broad shoulders dropping.

Well met, Maharans, I trust you won't mind if I join you, seeing as I'm already here?

[Snowbluff]

Qephetzial, Solitude and Loneliness

"Still, on death and limitations of one life, one should be careful not to waste it. While efforts to extend the life of another have failed many in the past, not limiting what little you have would take a briefest consideration," Qephetzial says from behind the menu. Her expression doesn't change, merely remaining vaguely sad. If she was happy about Cloth's affirmation, she doesn't show it. "It would be a shame to see a moment wasted, given the hardship some have gone through to see a moment granted..."

To the stares she catches from Sohwa the Rakshasa, however, she gives the distinct impression that she is wearily staring back. It's hard to tell due to the blackness of her eyes, however. "We must be careful to mind ourselves, despite what many would consider to be living in squalor," she says, smoothly moving one of her slender hands from the menu to make sure her white hair is properly style.

[Taya]

Cloth

Whether she ignored Qephetzial or not is a mistery, seeing that Cloth didn't answer, and her face was not in the shade's direction, but her compound eyes were definitively able to see her talking. However, maybe her words did reach the Thri-Kreen, seeing as she puts out her pipe and carefully puts it in her lap. "Well then," she turns her face towards each member of the group, "I think everyone is here. The dragon still has to come to the table,", she briefly and discretely points at Surina, "but we are here. Anyone has anything to say about this mission?"

[Lord Haart]

Sohwa the puma-headed

Sohwa takes the pouch, unties it with care and withdraws a tiny pinch of the powder. The pinch goes into the pipe, and immediately goes aflame seemingly by itself. The pouch gets tied again and handed back to the owner.

- I'm a bit of a sorcerer, - he explains.
- My name is... Oh, - he intones as the cervitaur makes his entrance.

While the new arrival rumbles, throws around his new year's tree of a head, and in general makes quite a scene, Sohwa is watching with the interested-yet-relaxed, just-a-bit-amused expression that is quite common among the people who don't like to show their hand. He does, however, steal a few more inquisitive glances at the shade lady.

- I'm Sohwa, Cloth, and the pleasure is all mine, - he finishes in a lower tone, just loud enough for her to hear; takes a lungful of smoke and leans slightly back, observing the starting conversation.

[masteraleph]

Having gotten her drink, Surina makes her way over towards the table. As she walks, she seems to mutter something under her breath. She pauses, pours a drop out of the left side of the tankard, a drop to the right, and a drop to the middle, uniting the first two. She continues walking, pouring one more drop before reaching the table, and takes a seat.

Well, we're certainly a collection, here. I think the Vamwe will be terrified just by seeing us, she says, nodding to the stag-headed minotaur and the insectoid creature.

I'll admit to worshiping enough gods that I have a fair variety of virtues to contemplate, but not a single one of them considers patience a virtue. Unless, of course, you consider Lord Io's refusal to return a form of patience, but I should think that's hardly the same, is it? Has anyone seen our fearless leader around?

[Snowbluff]

Qephetzial, Solitude and Loneliness

The shade glances between the rakshasa and the thri-kreen, observing their interaction carefully. Seeing that introductions are being made, she decides to follow suit. "I am Qephetzial, Solutide and Loneliness," she says. She eyes the Rakshasa's hand expectedly. "I have seen our leader, if one is referring to the King of the Wilds. I see him quite frequently. Even when he doesn't see me. I see a lot of people that don't see me," she says. Her gaze then slides over to the dragonborn. "Patience is a virtue to those who have it, and a curse to those who do not."

[Lord Haart]

"Well met, and of course you're welcome", says the puma to the stag. "Why don't we all take a seat?"

As the brass-colored dragonborn does exactly that, leaving only the shade and the bartender standing, Sohwa replies to her: "Let's all hope we don't meet any Vamwe, terrified or not."


"Lord Eeoh? I'd like to hear more at a later time. For now… I don't think our journey had a leader appointed."

"It seems that you, mukamba," he points his muzzle at the cervitaur, "are the most aged and experienced here. Suppose you're the leader. What would you have us do?"

[Felhammer]

A warm wind blows in from the outside as a tall, willowy cornsilk (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shades_of_white#Cornsilk)-colored thri-kreen hesitantly enters the yurt. The door flap slaps closed behind him with a loud WHACK. The man swings his torso around as he nervously touches the sides of the flap to ensure no damage was caused. He scans the room and smiles - as best a thri-kreen can - as his composite eyes settle on the party. He takes three steps towards the party, and then clearly loses the nerve and makes a b-line towards the bar. He takes a seat and orders a tall glass of kumis (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kumis). Hoaalohakupa'a pours the drink and asks, "Are you alright, Dkas? You seem a bit jittery... More than usual, I mean."

Dkas anxiously downs the glass of kumis and then whispers are reply to the goliath barkeep. As the two quietly converse, he motions with his head over to the party several times.

You recognize this Thri-Kreen, not as an individual but as a member of the Whitemoth Hive. They were pacifist group of thri-kreen who lived in the far north of your old home continent. They were known to be reclusive and isolationist. Gold was discovered in the hills around their territory, which soon attracted thousands of humans and dwarves. The miners hunted Whitemoth Thri-Kreen for sport, often utilizing wolf hounds to track, find, attack, mangle and kill the poor bug-men. The miner who came back with the most Whitemoth heads was declared the victor and given a prize (usually a cask of cheap ale). The Whitemoth fled south and were some of the first groups to join the Wild King.

[Taya]

Cloth

Cloth stays silent as the others in the table talk among each other, until the other Thri-Kreen starts approaching but decides against it midway. "I believe someone seems to want to talk to us." Cloth discreetly points to the Thri-Kreen in the bar. "He seems to be a little... Timid, maybe."

[Snowbluff]

Qephetzial, Solitude and Loneliness

"This sort of behavior can cause complications, depending on the situation, ranging from social ostracizing to murder to deny a spy," Qephetzial says quietly. "He is making a mistake by acting in this manner. I'll correct him as best I can. Don't worry, I'll make sure to smile to seem friendly." She gets up from the table, naturally manipulating the shadows to disappear.

"You're acting in a way that is liable to have you murdered," Qephetizal says to the thri-kreen. Her head is uncomfortably close to his neck, and her breath is cold against his carapace. She is smiling, or at least rendering a close approximation to a smile. Her normally glossy lips are separated contorted in such a way that shows as many of her very sharp teeth as possible, which are not unlike a wolf's. Her dark eyes are opened wide, much like maws anxiously awaiting their prey themselves. "It's not polite to stare at people. I'd hate to see your uncouth behavior bring you any harm."


One with the Shadow: any cover can allow Stealth.
Shadow Walk: Qephetzial has stealth when on the move.

Stealth [roll0]
Intimidate [roll1]

[masteraleph]

Intimidating someone because they were rude to you? Especially someone different? Seems awfully...Vamwe-ish, doesn't it? Come, perhaps this being is hoping for help. You would not deny hope, would you?

[Taya]

Cloth

Cloth observes Qeph's actions, fully expecting something like this to happen, but is taken aback by the dragonborn's reaction. "Her words may seem harsh, but she has no ill intentions."

Cloth takes her staff, a fine piece of carved dark wood held near her bag in the groud, and stands up. With her bottom arms, she straightens her clothes, a single piece of fine, translucent purple cloth, almost like silk, that circles her torso a few times before falling to her right side. Then, she approaches the Thri-Kreen, and puts a hand on Qeph's shoulder, gently pushing her at least a few centimeters away from the man's face and neck. "It seems like you want to talk with us, correct?" Then, Cloth starts producing clicking sounds, as well as a few blows and whistles, as she talks with the fellow Thri-Kreen in their language.

"Do you want to talk in our mother language? We can do this if you would be more comfortable with it."

[atlastrembles]

Broken Antler - Cervitaur Shaman


"Lord Eeoh? I'd like to hear more at a later time. For now… I don't think our journey had a leader appointed."

"It seems that you, mukamba," he points his muzzle at the cervitaur, "are the most aged and experienced here. Suppose you're the leader. What would you have us do?"

Broken Antler sips his drink and watches as their makeshift party gets to know each other as only such a rag-tag group of peoples of extraordinarily different cultures and races could. It will take many years and more for our peoples to come together. The Wild King, and us, have a great task ahead of us here in Daggerblood. The dragonborn's question snaps him out of his brief reverie. Shaking his head a bit in a non-committal gesture, Broken Antler replies, keeping an eye on the thri-keen, rakshasa, and shadeling monitoring them to make sure there was no danger afoot.

I can claim no leadership myself, but I will happily provide advice, though I force you not to accept it. We have a long journey ahead of us, no doubt fraught with many dangers, else the scouts would have returned by now. We should enjoy this brief rest e'er we never have it again. We should rise and leave before dawn, travel before the heat rises.

[Felhammer]

The shade sneaks up on the thri-kreen and, as she speaks, Dkas lunges into the air, hitting his head on the ceiling of the yurt. He comes crashing down on the rough ground, landing hard on his rear end. "Y-you startled this one," says the member of the Whitemoth Hive as he rubs his soar butt. "Th-this one will remember not to act this way in the future. This one does not wish to be prey.

<Greetings, friend. I am Dakas from the lands where the sun only appears for several months. I have come seeking your aid because I was told you were commanded by the Wild King to head east. A member of my tribe - Zzkyrr - was one of the original scouts sent out to explore the land. He is a great tracker, having lead our hive out of the lands where the sun only appears for several months and down into the lands where the night only lasts a day. He was accompanied by his equine companion - Slrrad. The Hive Mother of the Whitemoth Tribe wishes to ask that you locate Zzkyrr and Slrrad, for we Whitemoth are few in number and every member of our Hive matters. The Hive Mother has consented to gifting you five potions in an effort to make you amenable to our cause.>

Dkas then pulls his satchel off of his shoulder and sets it on the table. He pulls back the flap, revealing five green potions. "Five potions of healing, a gift from the Hive Mother."

[Snowbluff]

Qephetzial, Solitude and Loneliness

As Qephetzial is moved and admonished, she is very still, hardly moving at all from her pose. "Oh, have I done something wrong?" she asks sadly, her face returned to its typical, sullen expression. "I apologize, I do not intend on eating you presently." Still she listens to the thri-kreen intently even though she doesn't understand what it is saying. "If age is a qualification for leadership, I could offer my services in that position."

[Taya]

Cloth

Cloth stands still for a few seconds, the fellow Thri-Kreen probably realizing that she is thinking. She speaks back, again, in Thri-Kreen.

"Unfortunately, I must speak bluntly here instead of delaying my point: There is a chance your friend is dead. There is an even higher chance the horse is dead. I, myself, have no problem accepting this mission," Cloth stops mid-sentence and corrects herself, "rather, it would be an honor to help a fellow Hive, but mind you that I need to speak to everyone else before agreeing with it as a group. However, such a gift, to me, seems more like a preemptive reward. Does she expect us to bring him alive? I find it difficult to accept this if she would be mad would we come back with their corpse instead.

Cloth then looks at the shade and goes back to speaking in her almost broken common. "Personal space, Qephetzial, personal space. Unless you intend to attack, eat or have more intimacy with someone, try and stay at least a couple feet away from someone's body, specially their face." As she takes her hand away from Qeph's shoulder.

[Lord Haart]

Sohwa the second-hand smoker


Sohwa remains sitting and smoking, content with merely watching the events caused by the second Thri-Kreen's arrival, and his new teammates' reactions in particular. He would appear relaxed, almost dozing off, if his eyes weren't shifting curiously between the speakers. He says nothing more, so far; though when Qephetzial mentions her age, he slightly nods in a slow, thoughtful way.

I also activate his Defender's aura. Not as a response to anything that's happening (though a possibility of having a dozen more Qephs hidden around with unknown intentions is now quite tangible), but just because i see no reason to ever have it inactive when not in fury.

[Felhammer]

<This one understands what the fellow Thri-Kreen says. This one hopes that Zzkyrr and Slrrad can be found alive. If not, the Hive would like Zzkyrr's body returned. The corpse of the horse may be consumed as food.>

Dkas turns to the party, "This one apologizes for speaking in the tongue of this one's people. This one knows it is rude to do so in the company of those whom do not know the language. The Whitemoth Hive Mother asks that the braves assembled here search the lands beyond the mountains for a Whitemoth Thri-Kreen scout named Zzkyrr, and his horse companion Slrrad. We seek the return of Zzkyrr and his mount but understand that the scout," he turns his gaze over to Cloth, "Might be dead. In that case, we ask that the scout's body be returned to Reddawn. The corpse of the horse may be consumed as food..." After a pregnant pause he adds, "Or buried, whichever your customs dictate..."

[Taya]

Cloth

Cloth points to the potions in the table. "And they are giving us five potions for our troubles. I wish to take it, if only to help a fellow Hive. What do you think?"

[Snowbluff]

Qephetzial, Solitude and Loneliness

Qephetzial blinks. "Eating and intimacy? I would welcome either of those at this time. My title isn't 'Solitude and Loneliness' because I have acquired many friends," she mutters sadly. The shade strokes her chin in thought, then picks up a potion. She continues to speak while playing with the potion, balancing it between two fingers or holding it up with a single digit from either hand. "Shall I take the lead, then? Or would be using another method to determine the leadership of our band? Either way, I would be amenable to assisting this thri-kreen, if only for the clout."

She sits at the table again, and returns to looking at the menu. "We should flag down Hoaha-... Hokup-..." Qephetzial pauses. "We should flag the barmaiden. I hunger," she finishes quietly yet ominously.

[masteraleph]

It's Hoaalohakupa'a, my shadowed companion.

Surina takes a sip of her drink.

I have no objection to seeking out your hivemate. I'm curious, though, whether you know any more.
What was the scout looking for? Has anything been found in that area before, or was your hive exploring it for the first time?

[atlastrembles]

Dkas turns to the party, "This one apologizes for speaking in the tongue of this one's people. This one knows it is rude to do so in the company of those whom do not know the language. The Whitemoth Hive Mother asks that the braves assembled here search the lands beyond the mountains for a Whitemoth Thri-Kreen scout named Zzkyrr, and his horse companion Slrrad. We seek the return of Zzkyrr and his mount

Broken Antler, Cervitaur Shaman

Broken Antler bows his head in greeting as the second thri-keen addresses the group. We are all of us Mahara and must be there for each other. Unlike Govromm and Gwaza, we have not forgotten what the Vamwe did to our peoples when we stood fragmented and apart. Only together can we forge a new path. Both the Wild King and the ancestors who ride my crown are in agreement on this.

The cervitaur reaches out and places one of the healing potions in his satchel. He places a hand in the middle of his forehead and extends it to Dkas. My thanks to the Hive Mother for her gift. I am honoured to accept and will repay her in kind.

[Lord Haart]

Sohwa the sense-talker


"We have been asked to look for the missing scouts", Sohwa points out, laying his smoke-pipe aside. "I see no harm in looking for one in particular."

He raises his voice to address the Thri-Kreen directly.

"We gratefully accept your gift, Whitemoth people. We can give you no guarantee, since we don't know the dangers of the land. We won't abandon our mission for the search, and we will not risk our lives to retrieve a body from a deathtrap. However, if we come across your scout's trail, we will investigate as much as we can.

Is that good enough for your hive?"

Sohwa sounds trustworthy when he says that; trustworthy, and compassionate, and wise. His voice rings true and silver-lined. The flow of the words is smooth and convincing, as is the gesture of a hand slightly waved from one side to another.

Arcana:
[roll0]

(Arcane mutterings: personal, Encounter, utility, free action; when you would make a Bluff, Diplomacy, or Intimidate check, make an Arcana check in its place.)


He then opens his bag and pulls out a piece of fermented rice rolled inside a flap of dried fish meat; a pretty standart ration on some of the maharan ships during the recent journey.

"Can't offer you much in the way of eating," the Rakshasa says in a much more subdued (and quite a bit less charming) tone, offering the ration to Qephetzial; "but I'm curious to learn more about you. What kind of companionship do you seek?"

[Felhammer]

Hoaalohakupa'a pours a round for everyone, as she lays out several bowls of Bearberries (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bearberry). With a smile, she comments, "We do not have many berries left from the old homeland but this seems like a good time to dip into the reserve."

Dkas turns to Surina and states, "Zzkyrr and Slrrad lead the Whitemoth Hive from the lands-where-the-sun-only-appears-for-several-months and down into the lands-where-the-night-only-lasts-a-day. The Great Hive Father knew well of Zzkyrr's abilities and asked Zzkyrr to scout the lands-beyond-where-the-sun-rises once we arrived in the lands-where-the-heat-lingers-all-day-and-night. Zzkyrr is famous among our people. He is a folk hero. That is why the Hive Mother seeks his return - he is the best of our Hive and we would be diminished if he died.

"I shall tell the Hive Mother of your gratitude, Broken Antler.

The predator-prey instinct ignites in Dkas as Sowa approaches but his kind words and gift do much to waylay those primal emotions. "Th-this one thanks you, Sohwa."

[Snowbluff]

Qephetzial, Solitude and Loneliness

Qephetzial pulls the menu closer to her face, covering her nose and mouth while eying the fish and rice ration Sohwa was offering wearily. "Oh, you shouldn't have," she begins. "I'm sure we're all tired of aquatic rations after so much time at sea as we've all had. Especially when much more satsifying and filling options are available," Qepehetzial finishes, scanning the mahara at the table, before thinking better of it and looking down at the berries. "Thank you, Huakop-... Holoko-... miss. I'll be having the hunt of the day, raw, and with any blood leftover from draining it pour on top. It'll bring back some colour to my cheeks," she says as she plucks a berry from the bowl and gently placing it in her mouth. "Either way, you're acting quite forward, mister. It's rude to be so brusque with a lady. I wouldn't want to think you've impure intentions with me," she says to Sohwa.

[Felhammer]

"I live to please..." replies Hoaalohakupa'a as the goliath heads over to the big, goliath-sized cauldron on the fire. She stirs the pot for a bit, then yanks out a big, brown-and-white chunk of scorpion, complete with a leg(!). She slaps it onto a plate, exclaiming, "That's hot!" The woman then brings the plate over to Qephetzial, "The hunt of the day - monstrous scorpion." Hoaalohakupa'a retrieves a large bucket from the bar, then drizzles thick, gooey blue blood all over the meat.

[Lord Haart]

Sohwa, speaking to Qephetzial.

"Is it? I saw you speak your mind openly, even when it disconcerts those around you," the rakshasa notes, unperturbed. "I thought you'd find directness pleasing, or maybe less bothersome. Or is the question itself unpleasant to you… Lady?"

Sohwa extinguishes his pipe by beating it on the ground, then lets it dissipate back into smoke. Then he moves one of the bowls closer to himself, and picks a berry.

"My offering is meager, it's true. I have not been prepared for the meeting. But: I have a feeling we'll soon see a lot of blood and fresh bodies."

The way he says this, it's clear he would enjoy such a prospect.

[Taya]

Cloth

"I don't drink, but I'll take a berry. Thank you." The purple-kreen picks a berry from one of the bowls. "I've already eaten, but this is just dessert." She says, as she eats the berry. She then picks one of the potions. "It seems like we have agreed upon your Queen's request, Dakas. We hope to return to her with good news."

[Snowbluff]

Qephetzial, Solitude and Loneliness

Qephetzial is taken aback by the cooked state of the meat, and the color of the copper blood. "I ordered it raw," she says to herself, sadly. Still, she sticks a finger in the blood and licks it. "Mm..."

"Yes, the question is most disturbing. I do admit, we must exercise discretion when speaking in public. The shadows have eyes," she says, while daintily lifting the whole legs with her fingertips. She weighs it in her hand, and appreciates the bloodiness and warmth of the dish, which is visibly burning her hands, before eying Dkas. She with a sudden and toothy grin, she bites directly into the exoskeleton on the leg with a sickening crunch, enough to churn the stomach of the most seasoned of warrior. The carapace splinters and cracks under the assault, ejecting boiling hot bits of itself and the azure blood on the table. "It's quite ok," she says after having severed the leg in twain with her sharp teeth. "There's enough warm food here, and I doubt I'd find finer dining out in the unexplored wasteland. Furthermore, it'd be rude of me to go elsewhere when being offered such fine options," she says. She turns to Sohwa, gives him a self-assured grin, before biting into one half of the leg she was holding with another horrifying sound. "Once I'm finished with this meal, I can wait for the next one while we search for the scout."

[Lord Haart]

Sohwa the savvy

…At some point in the evening, Sohwa asks Hoaalohakupa and Broken Antler:

"By the way, where can I go to consult with the seers and spirit-talkers? They have surely learned something about this land in these weeks. It's best to go with their advice."

Sometime later, he quietly leaves the yurt, and follows the directions he is given. The rakshasa has questions for those who listen to the wind and the dream. What are the elements like here, in Renje? What can be done during the journey to have their blessings, or to avoid their wrath? What is taboo in this land? Were there any omens pertaining to the journey, and does the future have any warnings?

Sohwa might not have much religious insight himself, but he's certainly not about to blunder around heedless; moreso when sages of so many tribes are within easy reach.

[masteraleph]

I haven't heard anything about that region, Surina says, wiping her hands on a napkin. And getting direct messages from the gods is...chancy, at best. If anyone does have any immediate questions about our course of action, though- things we might do in the next hour or so- I could probably work that out. Otherwise, if we're planning to head out in the next day, I should go pray and prepare. My chosen deities...or perhaps, I am the chosen...sometimes need a bit of separation from one another.

[atlastrembles]

Broken Antler - Cervitaur Shaman


Sohwa the savvy

…At some point in the evening, Sohwa asks Hoaalohakupa and Broken Antler:

"By the way, where can I go to consult with the seers and spirit-talkers? They have surely learned something about this land in these weeks. It's best to go with their advice."

Broken Antler nods sadly at Sowha's question. I have had little luck forging a connection with the Renje's spirits. We Mahara are foreign to them. I sense that they are wary, that they monitor us. However, I still carry some truck with the spirits of the weather for they are the same anywhere on this side of the Spirit Veil. The cervitaur shaman beckons Sowha outside where he spreads his arms and raises his head to the skies. He gives his antlers a slight shake, sending the charms and fetishes tied there swaying gently. He breathes in deeply, sensing the air and utters a flowing chant in Sylvan, the words sounding more like the feeling of air on one's face change as the sun comes out from behind a cloud.

Come, spirits, and lend your wisdom to your guardian. By the ancient pact we hold each other as allies - what comes on the winds of the next day's dawn?

In a vivid rush of colours and senses, Broken Antler forms an understanding of what tomorrow's weather will be like for their journey. He tells Sowha what he has discovered and suggests he gets some rest.

Broken Antler then tells the rest of the party, as well as the tribe, what tomorrow will bring.

OOC: Broken Antler will cast the Portend Weather ritual. He determines what the weather will be like for the next 24 hours within a 50-mile radius. All allies gain a +5 bonus to Endurance to resist any extreme weather's effects for the same time.

[Felhammer]

It is going to be hot (97 degrees F) with a dry wind.

The party gathers their belongings and heads out of the tavern. It is the very early morning. The sun has not yet crested the eastern mountains yet. A dim light blankets the land, giving the desert a soft pink-ish-red hue. The band of braves heads south, around the path leading from Reddawn and down to the western coastline of the Blooddagger peninsula. The sun has just barely risen above the eastern mountains now, the temperature steadily rising with each passing minute.

The party continues forging the path for many hours. As the party casts their gaze out to sea, they spot a massive gray and white shark (https://uproxx.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/shutterstock_369478958.jpg) jumping out of the water. In the predator's meaty vice-like mouth is a cylindrical-shaped white sea creature (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dugong#/media/File:Dugong.jpg). Scarlet blood pours from the sea creature's punctured body. It lets slip a moan of sadness, before the shark crashes into the water and dives beneath the blue sea...

The party continues on along the coast, following the last known trail that the Bluesong Tribe traveled upon. As the night nears, the band of braves find themselves on the beach. On one side are crystal clear blue seas, and on the other pink colored sand, dotted with thick masses of overgrown sagebrush and other desert weeds.

A crack of a branch alerts the party to something amiss... Before they can react, four lizardfolk jump out of hiding from the nearby brush. Armed with blow guns, they each pelt the band of braves with a hail of darts! To the south is a tall hillock. A brown and pink spider sits atop the hill, its coloration perfectly camouflaging it. The beast rears back its head, then gazes upon the party, blasting one of its members with a brilliantly bright beam of blinding energy! Four other Lizard folk also pop up, three look rough and ready warriors, while the third is decked out in tribal fetishes and wields a long, gnarled staff!

The Spider attacks a random enemy: [roll0]

Broken Antler
Cloth
Qephetzial
Sohwa
Surina

Attack: [roll1] vs. Reflex
Hit: [roll2] radiant damage, and the target is blinded until the end of the spider’s next turn.


L1 attacks Cloth with a blowgun
Attack: [roll3]
Hit: 4 damage and you are weakened until the end of L1's next turn.

L2 attacks Broken Antler with a Blowgun
Attack: [roll4]
Hit: 4 damage and you are dazed until the end of L1's next turn.

L3 attacks Sohwa with a Blowgun
Attack: [roll5]
Hit: 4 damage and you are weakened until the end of L1's next turn.

L4 attacks Sohwa with a Blowgun
Attack: [roll6]
Hit: 4 damage and you are dazed until the end of L1's next turn.

[Snowbluff]

Qephetzial, Solitude and Loneliness
The Prior Night

Qephetizal spent the evening tracking Sohwa from the shadows. "Interested prey is always good, since it'll come to you even when you don't want it to," she would say.
In Combat!

"Oh, it seems you're close to death," Qephetzial says quietly to Broken Antler. "Did we ever decide who our leader was, or should I just act on my own initiative?" She pulls out some shuriken from her sleets, and snaps them towards the lizardfolk. "Oh no, I've already acted. My apologies if I upset anyone. I'll take my leave." She hides in the brush.



Curse the nearest lizard!

Poisonous Shuriken
Attack the three nearest lizards!
[roll0] vs AC
[roll1]+[roll2]-1 damage

[roll3] vs AC
[roll4]+[roll5]-1 damage

[roll6] vs AC
[roll7]+[roll8]-1 damage


Curse Damage [roll9] Doesn't apply this turn.

Move action hide [roll10]

[Taya]

Cloth

Without much time to react, the group is attack! Cloth quickly picks up her staff, dodges the first blow dart, and is surprised by Qeph's quickness with the shurikens. "Nice." She whispers, before dashing towards the nearest tough-looking lizardfol.

Cloth's legs are accustomed to the uneven grounds of traveling, having no problem moving through the sagebrushes. As she rushes in with great speed, she stops near the lizard and does a quick jab with her staff, hitting it in the shoulder which it holds the weapon, and with incredible precision, she uses both of her left hands, she swings in the air in blowgun-wielding lizard's direction. With that swing, the winds seem to obey the thri-kreen's command, as a gush of wind surges from behind the lizardfolk's back, hitting it in his back with full force, bringing him closer but also knocking him down.

Cloth stares back at the warrior lizard, doing a lot of small clicking sounds.

First, move action: Surefoot Stride to move my speed and avoid difficult terrain until EoNT (also getting +2 AC and Reflex in the meanwhile).
Standard action: Fallen Needle Attack to R3 (At-Will)
Roll: [roll0] vs Reflex
Damage: [roll1]

No Action: Flurry of Blows to L1, automatic 3 damage
Minor Action: Fallen Needle Movement to shift 1.

(not happening for no conditions appliable)
Minor action (if both R3 and L1 survives or if I miss my Fallen Needle) Thri-Kreen Claws (Encounter)
Roll: [roll2] vs AC
Damage: [roll3] +1 per enemy (so +3 total if both are hit, +2 if I missed the first attack and am attacking only R3)

[Lord Haart]

Sohwa the swordsman

The night before

Sohwa is grateful for Broken Antler's advice, but it doesn't satisfy his questions. The rakshasa still goes to find the sages (following the directions that Hoaalohakupa'a hopefully provides), with Qephetzial quietly following.

I'm not looking to drag this out any further with detailed roleplay. All I want is a single DM's post, recounting the answers Sohwa gets from the shamans, or the lack thereof. The intent of his questions had been listed in my post (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=24171376&postcount=37). Sorry if i'm bothering you with this; i'm just not sure if you skipping the turn means that you've simply missed it, that you considered Antler's and Surina's replies to be enough, or that you don't see this line of actions as worth persisting.

The beach battle

Sohwa manages to duck in time to avoid a tiny dart; another gets stuck harmlessly in the fabric of his shoulderbag. Drawing out his sword, the rakshasa warrior holds it high over head, pointing upwards and backwards — ready to bring it down on any would-be attacker — and considers the attacking forces. As his comrades clear out the left flank somewhat, and a lizardman on his right readies its blowgun for another shot, Sohwa comes into motion.

"Hunt for prisoners! Take them alive!" — he shouts as he dashes purposefully towards his enemy, his sword now outstretched horizontally to the side to add momentum to the inevitable swing. Blocking a slash like this would be suicidal.

However, instead of ending his dash with a mighty cleave, Sohwa twists the blade and turns a slash into a smash, hitting the unfortunate enemy in the head with a speeding piece of solid iron moments before his shoulder impacts its chest at full speed.

As he lets the lizardman's unconscious body fall to the ground, Sohwa looks straight at the second raider in front of him; and lowers the point of his blade to the fallen humanoid's neck, making the stakes clear.

Minor action: draw a weapon.
Standart: charge to N13, MBA against L4 with a +1 bonus to hit (from charge) and +1 bonus to damage on charge (from THW Expertise). Dealing a nonlethal hit if enemy goes down.
("When you reduce a creature to 0 hit points or fewer, you can choose to knock it unconscious rather than kill it." — PHB, general rules)

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

If L4 goes down, end of turn.
Action point, gaining an extra standart action (by the way, just as a reminder — this also cancels the charge-imposed limitation of "can't use any more actions", including unspent move/minor actions).

Extra standart action: Stalk and Strike, shifting to N15 before the attack.
Attack against L4: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]
Again, aiming for unconsciousness, not death.

[atlastrembles]

Broken Antler - Cervitaur Shaman
HP at Beginning of Round - 18 / 36 (Bloodied)
HP at End of Round - 27 / 36

Broken Antler shakes his head, trying to clear the searing after-image from his sight. The world comes to him in invisible sensations, the pounding of the ground below him, the shouts and grunts of battle, and the smell of freshly spilled blood. He stumbles forward, lurching slightly, trying to aim himself at the nearest scrub of sagebrush he remembers being close by. By the scratch of branches on his calves, he can tell he's made it - the day's first minor victory. [Move Action - Head into scrub brush]

He then begins muttering a prayer, calling upon his ancestors to aid him and the Mahara in this battle. The sands ahead of him begin to swirl and shift as they take on the rough form of an antler-headed spirit. Anchored to the ground, it's eyes vacuums of sand, it trumpets its arrival in a hiss and grind of rocks and sand. Interposing itself between Broken Antler and the nearest enemies, the spirit looms over the shaman and one of the raiders. [Minor Action - Summon Spirit Companion]

Leveraging the brief respite from the battle afforded, he hopes, by the appearance of his ancestor spirit, Broken Antler takes a moment to breathe and focus his energy. [Standard Action - Second Wind - Spend a healing surge - regain 9 HP]


SPIRIT SHIELD
-------------------------
At-Will ✦ Healing, Implement, Primal, Spirit
Opportunity Action Melee spirit 1
Trigger: An enemy leaves a square adjacent to your spirit companion without shifting
Target: The triggering enemy
Attack: Wisdom vs. Reflex
Hit: Wisdom modifier damage -- 4 Damage
Effect: One ally within 5 squares of your spirit companion regains hit points equal to your Wisdom modifier. -- Any healing will come to me.

[roll0]

[roll1]

[Felhammer]

You head to the yurt of Avonaca Singlestride, an elderly goblin shaman of the Proudforest Tribe. As you near her tent, the scent of burning incense and blood fills your nostrils. Once inside, you see a gray goat that has been freshly sacrificed. Blood, from its gaping neck wound, streams down several channels of the goblin-sized altar. The blood collects in a diamond-shaped pool. The woman is sitting on her knees, hunched over the pool, staring deeply into it, seeing things that only one with her experience can view. "Welcome Sohwa . Welcome." Her voice is hoarse and weak, creaky with age. The goblin does not look up from her divination.

A second voice calls out, from a darkened part of the tent. The voice is deep, guttural. It booms with authority. From the shadows emerges a tall, strapping Minotaur. He has long black horns and patchy gray and black fur. His eyes are the color of crystal clear seas. "Greetings, Sohwa. I am Nokosis, a Windbinder. You have come to seek my council. He pauses and looks down upon the goblin peering into the sanguine pool. "I have spoken with our ancestors but the connection is weak, as we are far from where they were laid to rest. The wind elementals speak to me with just as much ferocity as they did in our old homeland... But the elements here are different. They are agitated, on edge. I cannot divine why, and they will not illuminate my perspective. That is why I came here, seeking the council of a Bloodseer. Their ways are alien to me but they possess insights that I cannot glean with my powers."

The goblin woman hushes the minotaur, "Shhh. I can see... Crabs. Many of them. Scouts fighting them... Winning... But the yurt-sized crab... It vexes them..."

"Is this a portent of the future?" asks Nokosis.

"Yes. But not for this one. No... Lizardmen... Lizard men are in his future. Many of them. They... Are hostile but have... Reasons for their hostility..." A scowl crawls across the bloodseer's face. "No! No! Why would you? No." The seer seems to be conversing with someone, or something, she sees in the pool. "That does not make any sense. I would never. That is not how this works...!

The blood in the pool slowly rises. It forms into the shape of a hand. The hand rears back and slams itself across the goblin's face. The Bloodseer is sent careening across the yurt, landing hard on her head.

The minotaur rushes over to the elderly goblin and gently picks her up, "She is alive..."

The bloodseer stares at the yurt's roof and yells, "Beware! Beware kind offers made by those with forked tongues, Sohwa! Bewareeee!"


The woman's body goes limp. She is dead.

As you look back to where the bloody hand was, it is gone, leaving behind only a sanguine trail tracing its trajectory as it slammed into Avonaca.

Nokisis gingerly sets the woman down on the ground and calls for the elements to aid his fallen friend. A three foot tall tornado manifests in the yurt. The Windbinder and the elemental communicate in a foreign tongue for several moments, before the tornado flies into the air and then dives deep into the goblin's nostrils. A heartbeat later, the woman wakes with a gasp, then passes out once more.

"She will be alright, Sohwa." The Windbinder stands up and walks over to the small hearth in the center of the yurt. "The sacred wind of my people has guided her back to safety... but... at a cost..." With one fluid motion, the minotaur reaches up and breaks off his left horn. Retrieving a waterskin from his belt pouch, he doses the horn in a yellowy liquid, then casts the horn into the flame. The flame erupts, shooting fire as high up as Nokosis' face. "Great cost indeed," states the minotaur mournfully. "It is time for you to leave, Sohwa, your companions are waiting for you."

As you leave, you see the Nokosis shed a single tear, as he gazes into the fire...

[Felhammer]

The Spider glares at the Rakshasa with a blinding beam of radiant energy! The Raiders in the north east of the battlefield gang up on poor Cloth, while the Raider in the south attacks the vile Spirit Companion!

NEWS! As Sohwa and Broken Antler approach the spider, they spot a barely visible spider-silk wall that surrounds the spider's position!

NEWS! Surina did not post. One of the players has earned an Action Point to (help) compensate! Note this BONUS Action Point is does not count against your "once per encounter" limit that is usually placed upon Action Point usage.

[roll0]

Broken Antler
Cloth
Qephetzial
Sohwa

NEWS! Surina did not post. One of the players has earned an Action Point to (help) compensate! (1d4)[2]

Broken Antler
Cloth
Qephetzial
Sohwa



Spider attacks Sohwa with a blinding ray!
Attack: [roll1] vs. Reflex
Hit: (4d6+4)[16] radiant damage, and the target is blinded until the end of the spider’s next turn

Raider 1 will attack the spirit companion!
[roll2] vs. AC
(2d6+4)[9] damage, and the raider slides the target 1 square. The target is marked until the end of the raider’s next turn.

Raider 2 charges Cloth!
[roll3] vs. AC
Hit: 2d6+4 damage, and the raider slides the target 1 square. The target is marked until the end of the raider’s next turn.

Raider 3 attacks Cloth!
Raider 3 attacks. (1d20+8)[14] vs. AC
Hit: (2d6+4)[12] damage, and the raider slides the target 1 square. The target is marked until the end of the raider’s next turn.

The Shaman will go after I see the results of the Raider.

[Felhammer]

The Shaman, now free from the grasp of the enemy Spirit Companion swings his staff around and launches a magical attack at Broken Antler! The Shaman then moves deeper into the sagebrush!

Shaman Attacks Broken Antler!
Attack: [roll0] vs. Reflex
Hit: [roll1] fire damage, and the target is dazed until the end of the shaman’s next turn

And the players are now up!

[Taya]

Cloth

As the warriors swing their picks, Cloth spins around, avoiding the attack at the same time that she cuts through the enemies with both of her right claws. As both of these draw blood, with one quick step, Cloth steps to the side and swings the air again, as air hits the other warrior in the back and brings him into the sagebush. Then, using the motion of that same swing, she gets low into the ground and hits their upper legs with with enough force to knock both of them into the ground.

Minor Action: Thri-Kreen Claws (E) vs R2 and R3.
Hit: [roll0] vs AC (+2 vs R3)
Damage: [roll1]

(Since it hit) Move action Shift to W7, Eternal Tide to R2 (automatic 3 damage), then Eternal Mountain.
If none of them hit, just Eternal Mountain.

Standard Action: Eternal Mountain (E) vs R2 and R3.
Hit: [roll2] vs Fortitude (+2 vs R3, +2 vs R2 if the claws hit).
Damage: [roll3] and both of them fall prone.

[Taya]

Cloth, using action point

After knocking them both into the ground, Cloth doesn't miss the chance to strike again. Still in the momentum of the swirl, she jumps into the air, quickly switches the staff to both her underarms, and, with the force acquired from what now is her third spin, land a punch directly to the lizard's rib cage. The sounds of breaking bones can be heard aloud, as life vanishes from its body and she stands up, looking down directly into the other lizard's eyes.

Seeing their ally freeze in place, it fills you with determination.
Action Point!
Standard Action: Awakening the Slumbering Hunt (E) vs R3
Hit: [roll0] vs Fortitude
Damage: [roll1] and my next attack against them until EoNT has +3 damage.

Opportunity Attack if any of them try to stand prone, prioritizing R3 as a target damn, he died
Hit: [roll2] vs AC
Damage: [roll3]

[atlastrembles]

Broken Antler - Cervitaur Shaman
HP - 18/36 - Bloodied
Condition - Dazed

The fire blast scorches Broken Antler's armor, the heat ripping into his fur beneath. Grunting in pain, he reaches out and grasps the sagebrush, drawing its spirit into him. He also yells at the Rakshasa beside him - The spirits will protect you and shelter you, get up there stripemage!

[Minor Action]Healing Spirit - Target - Broken Antler - Uses a Healing Surge - Heals 9 HP - Assuming Sowha positions himself adjacent to the Spirit Companion during his turn - [roll0] healing +2 for Protector Spirit on Sowha

Encounter (Special) ✦ Healing, Primal
Minor Action Close burst 5
Target: You or one ally in burst
Effect: The target can spend a healing surge. If the target
does so, one ally adjacent to your spirit companion, other
than the target, regains 1d6 hit points.


Then Broken Antler, renewed from the essence of the thorny brush, pushes through to stand beside his spirit companion. Stabbing the spirit with a branch of the sagebrush, he bellows, infusing the sand-spirit with a shadow of a cervitaur warrior. In the vacuum of its eyes, twin blazes of deep green shine out as the branch is absorbed by the spirit, morphing into a spine, bolstering the Companion. It raises a sandy fist and brings it crashing down on the raider in his way.

[Free Action] - Use an Action Point

[Standard Action] - Call to the Ancestral Warrior - WIS v REF - [roll1] for [roll2] damage. Until EoNT, you and allies gain +2 defence while adjacent to Spirit Companion.

Encounter ✦ Implement, Primal, Spirit
Standard Action Melee spirit 1
Target: One creature
Attack: Wisdom vs. Reflex
Hit: 1d10 + Wisdom modifier damage. Until the end
of your next turn, you and your allies gain a +2 power
bonus to all defenses while adjacent to your spirit
companion.

[masteraleph]

Surina shakes herself a bit, having been inattentive earlier in the fight.

You dare to challenge us? Prepare to meet the judgment of the gods! She breathes into her rod, and three bolts of lightning emerge, as well as a puddle looking thing of lightning


Move to M12

Minor: Sudden (slime) Lightning vs. the Spider: [roll0] vs Fortitude. If it hits, deal 4 damage and it's slowed until the End of my Next Turn.

Standard: Thunder of Judgment vs the Shaman, R1, and Spider (3x Ranged 10 attacks):
vs Shaman: [roll1] vs Fortitude for [roll2] Lightning damage
vs R1: [roll3] vs Fortitude for [roll4] Lightning damage
vs Spider: [roll5] vs Fortitude for [roll6] Lightning damage

All hit are Dazed until the End of my next turn. If hit, I'll also push the spider 3 to U16 (technically a push- it's farther from me)- V16- W16, giving it a saving throw to avoid falling damage/being knocked prone as it falls off the hill. Of course, if it saves, it falls prone :smallbiggrin:

Sorry, first time playing an Invoker- the Spider takes 3 more damage from my Covenant of Wrath.

[Snowbluff]

Qephetzial, Solitude and Loneliness

Qephetizial frowns. Cloth was fighting a Raider and had not defeated it yet. Perhaps it was time for her to intervene. "I've come to help, in case you needed it..."



Move to attack R2. Curse R2.

[roll0] vs. AC Eldritch Strike!
[roll1]+[roll2]+5


EDIT: Qeph has +2 defenses versus the R2.
Also she has cover... and like more cover from Shadow Walk.

[Lord Haart]

Sohwa the sightless


Focused on challenging the hulking lizardman in front of him, Sohwa is not ready for the blast of light from above. He tries to deflect it with a warding gesture, but the magic fizzles, taking no substance. Blinded, he snaps into a defensive stance, trying to catch the moment an enemy would approach to exploit his vulnerability.

Luckily, Broken Antler calls his sand-beast into being between Sohwa and the enemies, drawing attention to the spirit — and, unfortunately, to himself. Still, this allows for a small respite, which Sohwa doesn't hesitate to use.
"Illusion, illusion, give me occlusion", he whispers on a silly habit as he leaves the domain of light and shadows, cloaking himself in deceit. Now confident in being just as unseen to his enemies as they are to him, he strides towards where he last saw the raiders; holding his blade carefully, ready to strike at any motion next to him.
When he goes near the stag-spirit, he feels a caring, protective force surging through it.
"Well sure, why not?" — he mutters to himself as he taps it, leeching from the infusion, stealing its vigilant vitality for himself; now sharing in the spirit's magic, still blind but otherwise fully combat-ready.

Minor action: Vanish. Invisible until start of next turn.

Move to M18.

Second wind, restoring 9 HP + 2 extra HP due to Broken Antler's Protector boon, and gaining +2 to all defences until the start of next turn.

[Felhammer]

The spider tumbles off the side of the hill. Fearing for itself, the spider spins a web to help protect itself! The Shaman works his way through the bramble and brush and then yells something in a foreign tongue. Suddenly three massive pillars of earth burst forth from beneath the feat of Sohwa, Broken Antler and the spirit companion! Meanwhile, the Shade and the cervitaur are each feverishly attacked by a Raider!


The Shaman calls forth the earth to attack his enemies!
Attack: [roll0] vs. Ba's Reflex
Attack: [roll1] vs. Sw's Reflex (includes the -5 for Total Concealment)
Attack: [roll2] vs. Anc' Reflex
Hit: [roll3] damage, and the shaman knocks the target prone.
Effect: Allies in the blast shift 3 squares.

The Spider stays of the ground but uses its action to expand its web-fort :smallamused:

R1 shifts three squares thanks to the shaman, so Sohwa gets an OA.
Attack: [roll4] vs. Broken Antler's AC
Hit: [roll5] damage, and the raider slides the target 1 square.
The target is marked until the end of the raider’s next turn.

R2 attacks Qephetzial
Attack: [roll6] vs. Spirit Companion's AC
Hit: [roll7] damage, and the raider slides the target 1 square.
The target is marked until the end of the raider’s next turn.

[Taya]

Cloth

The Thri-Kreen's compound eyes almost shine as they see the spider falling down the hills. Finally, she can reach the spider! But first, she does a quick swipe with the staff at the warrior's neck to finish it off. As she breaks it, she quickly moves towards the spider, swiping the air once more. This time, however, a bunch of small rocks in the hills move to hit the spider in the back of its legs, impaling them as the impact moves it towards Cloth.

Standard: Fallen Needle (AT Attack)
Hit: [roll0] vs Reflex
Damage: [roll1] and the target takes a -2 penalty to attack rolls against me until the end of my next turn.

Move action to move towards the spider, then Eternal Tide her (3 automatic damage, slowed until EoNT)

[masteraleph]

Surina smiles as she see the Spider she's been targeting take a little tumble.

Let's see if we can't make you the fly, rather than the spider? Perhaps Lady Avandra can grant my friends a bit of luck! And perhaps make that raider regret his actions a bit too...

Surina pricks her finger on her gauntlet, then snarls.


Minor: Activate Blood Fury Axe to become "bloodied" (+1 to attacks)

Standard: Lightning's Revelation vs. the Spider
[roll0] vs Reflex. If it hits, it takes [roll1] Lightning damage and is -3 to all defenses until the end of my next turn.

Downgrade move to Minor: Dragon Breath vs. R1
[roll2] vs. Reflex. If it hits, it takes [roll3] Lightning damage.

[Lord Haart]

Sohwa the sophisticated striker

As ground bursts up and destroys the spirit's woven-together body next to Sohwa, the rakshasa feels a similar pillar forming under him. Rolling with the punches, he springs from the striking pillar before it fully hits, vaulting through the air. While this sudden movement, and the shower of dust and loose sand that burst along with the pillar, breaks the invisibility charm, Sohwa's eyes have began to recover somewhat, and to discern, if not things, at least shapes. Elevation helps with that, so when the warrior lands in tall shrubbery, he has an idea where to find the annoying lizard wizard.

Sohwa moves, not towards the shaman, but past it. As he stops, his back turned to the enemy, it looks for all the world that he's still blind and vunlerable.

Then he inverts, a face appearing on the back of his head, his arms casually bending the other way and whipping the sword around to face the lizardman, his clothing now sitting backwards relatively to him. And grins.

(That said, the shaman seems to have other things on his mind than this uncanny transformation.)

No longer content to fight defensively, Sohwa goes all out, slashing and pushing like an orc in heat. There goes the top third of the shaman's staff, hacked off in a would-be block; there goes the shaman's footing, as its attempts to avoid Sohwa's assault cause it to stumble and fall backwards. Not giving it a moment to regroup, Sohwa catches up and with a mighty thrust, impales the fallen enemy's stomach.

Satisfied with the result, he pulls his sword and gives the shaman a look-over, unsure if it's done for, or still able to keep fighting.

Move to L20

Minor action: Changeling trick against Sh1.
Bluff vs. PI: [roll0] (miss)
If successful, CA against Sh1 until EONT.

Standart action: Brutal Slam against Sh1.

Fury activated! Sohwa loses Defender Aura and Vengeful Guardian, gains Berserker Fury

Brutal Slam vs AC: [roll1] (+2 attack if Changeling Trick gave CA).

Sh1 takes [roll2] damage;
Sh1 is pushed (up to 2 squares) to J18; and falls prone there.

ACTION POINT!

Stalk and Strike against Sh1, shifting to K19 before the attack, and definitely attacking with advantage this time because target is prone.
Vs AC: [roll3]
Damage with Fury active:
[roll4] + [roll5]; +2 damage if Sh1 is bloodied by this point.

End of turn.

ACTION POINT!

Batter Down against Sh1.
Vs AC: [roll6] (+2 attack if Changeling Trick gave CA).
Damage: [roll7], and Sh1 falls prone.

End of turn.

[Snowbluff]

Qephetzial, Solitude and Loneliness

Qephetzial targets Cloth's arachnid foe with an eldritch spell!

The spider was dead, so Qeph targets the shaman instead.


Minor Action, Curse the Spider. Qeph has +2 to defenses against the spider. Curse the raider
Shadow Walk, Qeph has cover 9well she has it from the grass but w/e)

Upsetting Onslaught
Attack:
[roll0] vs. Will,
[roll1] + [roll2]
[roll3] if they refuse dazing.

Hit:
1d8 + Charisma modifier damage, and the target is
dazed until the end of its next turn. The target can negate
being dazed by using a free action to deal 2d8 damage
to itself.

Move, then stealth.
[roll4]

[atlastrembles]

Broken Antler - Cervitaur Shaman

Broken Antler groans and picks himself up off the ground from where the earthen pillar had thrown him. His head aches from the psychic feedback of the forceful dismissal of his ancestor's spirit. But, taking a deep breath and grunting with the exertion of standing up, the cervitaur spits some of his blood onto the sand in front of him. Having given some of his life back to the sand, the spirit companion reforms, looming over the raider adjacent to the stag-headed shaman. He feels new energy racing from the spirit's presence into his soul, renewing his will to fight. It then body slams the raider threatening Broken Antler.

Minor Action - Resummon Spirit Companion

Minor Action as Move Action - Healing Spirit on Self - spend Healing Surge and gain 9 HP

Standard Action - Protecting Strike - [roll0] for [roll1] damage on R1

[Felhammer]

With most of the lizard people killed, and just the shaman and a raider left, the shaman... Curls up into a ball and begins yelling, "Yaṭat vīma! Yaṭat vīma! Yaṭat vīma!" An incredulous look washes across the lone Raider's face as he gazes at the curled up Shaman. The Raider shifts his weight back and takes up a defensive posture, ready to slam his pick-axe into anyone that comes at him.

[Taya]

Cloth

Cloth sighs and approaches the rest of the group. "Can anyone understand what they are saying? If we can't communicate, might as well kill them."

[Snowbluff]

Qephetzial, Solitude and Loneliness

"I cannot. However, we should take them prisoner," Qephetzial says quietly. "You never know when a prisoner could become useful."

[Lord Haart]

Sohwa the sly

Sohwa takes a step back from the shaman, and stabs his sword into the sand, to show that the fight is over.

"I've been a bandit, and those don't look like real bandits", he snarls dismissively. "They attacked out of desperation. Something is causing trouble to their people, and I want to know more."

He unconsciously licks the shaman's blood from the blade.

"I'm sure we can improvise some communication. There's plenty of sand to draw on," the sorcerer points out. "But we won't force them to speak under a threat. We will not take them prisoners, or they will believe that's our main reason for being here. I propose we just let them go."

"Look at this one", his eyes flicker to the warrior that's left standing. "I think he'll make a break for it any moment now. We won't stop them," the predator offers in a sinister tone. "Let them run, or tend to their wounded, and leave either way. Let them tell the tribe that we did not pursue, and the tribe will know we're not here after them. Then they will come."

He smiles savagely.

"They sure will, if only to take care of their dead; and we'll be there, making camp on this beach, all predictable and approachable. A force that they will try to reason with," he finishes menacingly, and looks at Broken Antler, clearly expecting a final decision from him.

"I'm afraid, lady Solitude, that a feast will have to wait," he adds with a sigh.

A shift to L18 and Total Defence action (+2 bonus to all defenses until the start of character's next turn), just in case.

[atlastrembles]

Broken Antler - Cervitaur Shaman

Broken Antler heaves a sign of relief as the shaman calls for a cessation of hostility. That was as much as he could gather at this point, judging by the raider challenging him's wary stance in response to the barked command. He releases his ancestor's spirit, mentally thanking it for its service, and then listens carefully to the shaman's language, trying to place it.

He holds a hand up briefly for Sowha's attention and patience. Just a moment, arcanist, we may yet avoid further bloodshed between the Mahara and these indigenous. We should know by now to act better than the Vamwe who exiled us here. Need we repeat their aggression?

[Taya]

Cloth

Cloth stands still for a few seconds, waiting for everyone else to say their opinions before continuing hers. "I can see my opinion's been bested, so I will agree with the choice of the group. But let it be known, I'm against this. We can't communicate with them, we've killed at least two of them, and for all we know they may come back with a bigger force next time."

Then, she turns her head towards Sohwa. "And I'm sorry, but I can't understand who they are. You mean they?" She points at the curling shaman. "Because they can't reason with us. We can't reason with them. We can't communicate. Unless we take a whole day to very, very slowly try to communicate via drawing in the sand. And even then, betting that one of us can draw well enough for them to understand - and vice-versa - is not a very safe bet, in my opinion."

Then, she turns her head to Broken Antler. "You must have lived in a very peaceful place, if you believe the Vamwe are the only ones to ever seek bloodshed. By killing them, I believe we are setting an example that we can fight back, while also making sure that they don't come back to their tribe and then come to seek revenge."

At last, she takes a deep breath. "However, as I've said, I am the minority. And now that I've fully voiced my opinion, if we still go with setting them free or even taking them prisoners, I'll abide."

[Snowbluff]

Qephetzial, Solitude and Loneliness

Qephetzial tilts her head. "I am not certain we ever intended to be better than Vamwe. After all, we sadly killed several of their number, and if this sets a precedent, they will continue to respond in kind. If we let the shaman go before weare able to ascertain information on the situation, the Mahara could very well be placed in a difficult situation," she says quietly. "Not that we don't know that it wasn't the Mahara scouting parties that have already attacked these people."

She drags on of the bodies over and lays its hands over its chest. "Having a prisoner could help us formulate a method of communication. Oh well, I guess its time to pack up the camp as well. Who knows how many of the clans will decide to leave with the King, and how many will be beset upon by the natives until dead. Suffice it to say, Mahara isn't going to be Mahara much longer," she says hopelessly, noting the rising tension of the impatient clans. "My fellow shades are used to running, as we know better than to outstay out welcome. Maybe we'll find a nicer place to land next time." she finishes and she goes to drag another body to the group. "Maybe one with nicer food."

[atlastrembles]

Then, she turns her head to Broken Antler. "You must have lived in a very peaceful place, if you believe the Vamwe are the only ones to ever seek bloodshed. By killing them, I believe we are setting an example that we can fight back, while also making sure that they don't come back to their tribe and then come to seek revenge."

Broken Antler shakes his head sadly. I have seen enough unnecessary bloodshed to last eternity, Friend Cloth. And yes, sadly, many of the Mahara see violence as both the means and the ends, as if it was not this exact thinking that the Vamwe used to justify our extinction. We must try to be better than the beasts that reside in us and give us our strength. Only by binding our darker impulses to a greater balance can we create a homeland here for ourselves.

After keeping a careful ear open for their tongue, Broken Antler turns to address the raider and the shaman, he speaks in Common, then Sylvan. Do you understand either of these tongues? As an aside, he addresses his companions. They speak some form of Giant, though it's unlike any variation I've heard before. Do any of you speak that tongue?


Qephetzial tilts her head. "I am not certain we ever intended to be better than Vamwe. After all, we sadly killed several of their number, and if this sets a precedent, they will continue to respond in kind. If we let the shaman go before weare able to ascertain information on the situation, the Mahara could very well be placed in a difficult situation," she says quietly. "Not that we don't know that it wasn't the Mahara scouting parties that have already attacked these people."

Of course we intend to be better than the Vamwe, that's the express intent of the Mahara and the will of the Wild King, or do you seek to undermine what we have begun before it has had a chance to start? We have killed in self-defence, but no more blood need be shed. Our peoples used to kill each other as well, but we have learned to be better, a lesson we must share with those who live in this land already.

[Taya]

Cloth

The Thri-Kreen stays silent for a few more seconds, before nodding. "I'll take your opinions to heart, Broken Antler. I'll try to reflect on them. For now, however, I still disagree. But I will still act according to the will of the group."

[Snowbluff]

Qephetzial, Solitude and Loneliness

"Do we have anymore the right to change the culture of these people than the Vanwe had to exile the Mahara?" Qephetzial asks pointedly. "How easily one loses sight of what they believe. Sometimes solving a small problem leads to more sinful acts. My people are well accustomed to such folly..."

"Nevertheless, I grow weary of the dissenters among the Mahara. I feel that they may have orchestrated this conflict in order to allow them to exterminate the inhabitants of this land, so that they may capture their territory unchecked. What if, perhaps, the scouting parties were convinced or otherwise coerced in order to aggravate any natives they encounter, in order to justify these actions? Or Gwaza and his dragonborn have done so?" Qephetzial strokes her chin in thought.

[masteraleph]

It seems to me that the 2-in-1 and 1 would approve of such a path, Broken Antler. Well...perhaps the Lady of Dragons would not, but she often would not agree with the others. The point here is that we are NOT Vamwe, and do not need to respond so brutishly.

I am not certain what other scouting parties have done, but certainly these lizardfolk are not as some of the other inhabitants. They stop, they think, they listen...they do not merely eat and eat and eat.

[Lord Haart]

Sohwa the somewhat sure


Just a moment, arcanist, we may yet avoid further bloodshed between the Mahara and these indigenous. We should know by now to act better than the Vamwe who exiled us here. Need we repeat their aggression?

"But I do not propose any aggression", Sohwa argues, in a mocking tone. "Maybe one day we will move to conquer the land by force. But that, too, would ask us to get more informed than we are. Remember our mission: to scout, to find the defectors, and to learn of the land. Would starting a war help us more than maybe making willing pawns", - he glances at Broken Antler again, "- that is, allies?"

The warrior walks around his sword, now facing Cloth, rests both hands on the handle and lays his chin on the top.

"People who seek to communicate, will communicate; or there would be no Mahara. By "they", I mean the tribe, clan, or a group they are part of. They bear arms, have a language, and the group we've met has only fit warriors. Setting ambushes on a barely traveled beach is not a way of living. There must be a settlement nearby, and they expected trouble to come this way. Question is, are WE trouble?"

He lazily raises a single claw.

"The example is already set: five of us, nine of them, but we broke no sweat. Now we're setting a different example. I don't suppose they're dumb enough to seek revenge for those who attacked us first. Unless there will be none left to tell the story," he points out bitterly.

"Speaking of which, we should not set camp right next to the bodies, and the spider on the hill bothers me. What if there's a whole brood? We need someone to scout for a good place to camp, but not far from here, and to make sure there are no dangerous beasts. Cloth, you seem as spry as you are keen. Think you can do it?"

As he says that, Sohwa starts licking the back of his paw and cleaning his facial fur from sand and dust, stuck in there since the shaman's geomantic attack.

"I think lady Solitude is very right. There's a high chance Gwaza met these folks, and has left an impression," he mumbles through the dirt. "All the more reason to aim for information."

He sighs.

"It seems we are different enough to need a leader. Make a decision, elder Antler: will we deny these warriors their freedom, and force them into cooperation? Or will we show good will to the surrendered, demonstrate that we're not a threat, and let their tribe seek cooperation if they decide to? I'm sure they will, but this is your decision."

[Taya]

Cloth

The Thri-Kreen turns her head to the rakshasa, "I can scout, yes. I'm fast and, as you've said, I'm keen as well. However," she puts one of her upper hands in the air, in front of her face, to show her purple chitin, "don't expect me to be sneaky about it. In a green land like this, I tend to stand out."

[masteraleph]

You certainly stand out less than I would, says Surina, gesturing to her metallic scales. And no doubt you are more stealthy, too. I tend to clank.

I hope that we all recall we are here for a reason. I wish no conflict with these lizard folk, but we certainly have no right or ability to negotiate a treaty with them. I would let them go, if they will let us go, and go on our way.

[Felhammer]

As the party continues to debate, the cowering shaman stops whimpering. He sits up from the fetal position, coming to rest on his knees. He watches with great interest, as if trying to deduce your language. After a while, he grows increasingly frustrated with the way the party is bickering among themselves and not meeting out punishment. As his ire grows, he finally blurts out, "CURUL! CURUL!" He points to his satchel. "CURUL!"

The other lizardolk looks shocked at the shaman and yells back, Nīṅkaḷ ellāvaṟṟaiyum vaittirukkiṟīrkaḷā!?

The shaman throws his snout up in the air and condescendingly replies, "Avarkaḷ ciṟantavarkaḷ eṉṟu nāṉ niṉaittēṉ!"

[Snowbluff]

Qephetzial, Solitude and Loneliness

Qephetzial nods slowly, now that her concerns have been heard. She wasn't too keen on being around when people were yelling at each other, given that it usually leads to a shade or two getting stabbed. She disappears into the brush.


Rolling to sneakily find a better place to camp.

[roll0] Sneakiness
Using Shadow Walk, Body of the Wolf, and One with the Shadow to do a lot of hiding.

[roll1] Perception

[Taya]

Cloth

The Thri-Kreen nods, but as she turns to scout the area, Qeph does it first. "Seems like someone beat me to it. That's fine. In this case..." Cloth stands still for a few seconds as she looks at the shaman without him noticing (because of the compound eyes). Then, she walks towards him, staff in both upper hands behind her back, and, with her lower hands, slowly, takes his satchel and looks inside.

[Felhammer]

Inside the satchel, you find three scrolls and a burlap baggie filled with finger nail sized, polished pieces of onyx..

[Taya]

Cloth

"Anyone here can take a look at these?" Cloth takes out one of the scrolls. "There are three here, but I can barely read common, and I'm lead to believe these will be magic scrolls so... Sohwa? Can you take a look?"

[Felhammer]

They are ritual scrolls:

- Comprehend Language (https://dnd4.fandom.com/wiki/Comprehend_Language)
- Undead Ward (https://dnd4.fandom.com/wiki/Undead_Ward)

- Create Campsite (https://dnd4.fandom.com/wiki/Create_Campsite)

[Felhammer]

The shaman motions at the satchel and pantomime unfurling a scroll and reading it, "Maṭa liyavilla denna. Obava tērum gænīmaṭa maṭa eya bhāvitā kaḷa hækiya."

[masteraleph]

Surina takes a look at the scrolls in the bag.

I'm afraid that none of these seem to be religious rituals, which I'd be more familiar with. Is there anyone among us with the skills to make sense of these?

[Lord Haart]

Sohwa the overthinker

Mostly ignoring the shaman's needy chattering, Sohwa considers the scrolls and the mineral.

"There are three different spells, for different situations, but only one of each; so they were going on a short tour, not a serious journey. Those must be reagents," — he points at the tiny stones, "but I desire to study them before using recklessly. Onyx is… I think I remember something about it."

Scowling, he comes to a pause, and shakes his head ruefully.

"Now this one, is for understanding tongues. They were prepared to meet outsiders, indeed," the arcanist grimly notes, "but not us, or there would be no ambush. Something is going on, as we thought. And this one wants to tell us all about it," a claw points at the shaman once again, "and it's obvious that we can do that, but… Listen to me, please."

It sounds like Sohwa is worried that his companions will insist.

"This magic will go one way, so we won't have a real conversation. He'll just tell us what he thinks we should know, and play dumb to any unpleasant questions. Is it wise to let him set the terms so easily?"

Sohwa slowly rolls the scroll, and steps toward the shaman.

"Aren't we ones who won control today?" Sohwa asks the party in a shrill voice, his body taut; before leaning forward to directly address the kneeling shaman. "You sure can do better," he growls at the lizard, licking his lips at the same time.

Then Sohwa points to his left ear, and at his mouth; then to the scroll; and holds up two claws.

"Two. Scrolls," he repeats, knowing that the words will not come across but the intonation, tied to the pantomime, will. Points to the scroll again, holds up two fingers again, points between himself and the shaman. Then points aside, roughly towards the hills, and makes a "shoo, shoo" motion.

[Taya]

Cloth

The Thri-Kreen nods as Sohwa shows his point of view. "That makes sense. And we might get a better grasp of the situation if we can actually hold a conversation."

[atlastrembles]

Broken Antler

The shaman watches passively as his companions dig through the ambusher's wares. He follows Sohwa to the shaman and crouches down as well to address the rakshasa, confident that the shaman and the lizardfolk cannot understand them. We may have won the day, but they still possess more information than us. We have established that we are no further threat and, indeed, it seems that they are not inclined to fight further. Whether or not they tell us all, well, would you not hold something back as well? Rather than sending them off to warn their fellows, it is wiser to speak with them now, is it not? If they betray us, well, then I concede that violence is the necessary response.

Looking over the scrolls, the cervitaur nods. I could certainly make use of this one indicating the Create Campsite ritual and perhaps the other as well. Frowning over at the shaman and the lizardfolk Antler tilts his head at Sohwa. What say you to travelling with these two for a little longer until we needs must make camp? The spirits will surely perform such a small task for us and our scaled captives may be in a better mood to talk with sore feet and the knowledge that our blades do not thirst for their blood.

OOC - For clarity, suggesting we travel with the two captives until it's time to camp, showing them that we don't intend to execute them and letting them passively build trust with us before we speak to them using the Comprehend scroll at the campsite.

[Felhammer]

You range a head of the party, your nimble feet taking you far away. After an hour of scouting, you come across the entrance to a cave. The gaping maw sits on the edge of a cliff, hanging just low enough to allow the sea to flow in. You duck down to observe the cave for a moment. As you do, a... humanoid riding atop a horse-sized dolphin emerges from beneath the waves. At first you think he might be a human(!) but after a moment you realize the man's skin is thick and smooth, like the dolphin he rides atop. The coloration is also strange - jet black with patches of bight white. As you ponder the man's skin for a moment, you cannot help but reminded of the great orca that used to hunt along the coasts of the Mahara's old homeland. The dolphin comes to a stop at the mouth of the cave, the man then whistles. After few moments, three lizardmen - that look remarkably similar to the lizardmen you just fought - come rowing out on a small canoe. The orca-skinned-man tosses a heavily-laden burlap sack into the canoe. The lizardmen then toss over a three-foot-tall frog-man, whose hands and feet have been tied, and a gag tightly bound in his mouth. The frog-man squirms and tries to free himself but the orca-man's raw strength easily overwhelms the little frog. The two groups then converse amicably in a tongue that sounds similar to the one you heard the other lizardmen speaking.

https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/faerunian/images/7/7c/Darfellan_Barbarian.png/revision/latest?cb=20140911090143
https://gamedetective.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/bullywug.jpg?w=402&h=455


The shaman nods in agreement to the rakshasa, believing he understands the basics of what the cat-man wants. The shamans scrambles to his feet and yells at his companion, who then drops his weapons and acquiesces to being a prisoner. The shaman points to the hills in the distance and says several things in his alien tongue. The raider complains bitterly while the group travels, his tone laced with condescension and malice for the Shaman. After twenty minutes of traveling, the shaman comes to an abrupt halt. Then then points to a seemingly random hole in the ground. The hole is large enough to just barely allow one of the lizardmen to squirm down into. The Shaman points to the hole again, then pantomimes squeezing inside, then imitates eating and sleeping.

[Snowbluff]

Qephetzial, Solitude and Loneliness

Qephetzial conspires to remove the frog man from the situation. Normally, a shade wouldn't stick its neck out for another person, but Qeph is one of the most proactive and outgoing shades. She shifts into her hated wolf form, and quietly attempts to drag the frog out of the room.


[roll0] stealth, using the shadows as cover with One with the Shadow.

[roll1] intimidate if they try to stop her.

[Lord Haart]

Sohwa the suddenly so important that everyone else hold their posts, apparently?


The shaman nods in agreement to the rakshasa, believing he understands the basics of what the cat-man wants. The shamans scrambles to his feet and yells at his companion, who then drops his weapons and acquiesces to being a prisoner. The shaman points to the hills in the distance and says several things in his alien tongue. The raider complains bitterly while the group travels, his tone laced with condescension and malice for the Shaman. After twenty minutes of traveling, the shaman comes to an abrupt halt. Then then points to a seemingly random hole in the ground. The hole is large enough to just barely allow one of the lizardmen to squirm down into. The Shaman points to the hole again, then pantomimes squeezing inside, then imitates eating and sleeping.

Sohwa appears somewhat tired and unhappy from having to journey again instead of making camp and catching some rest. He stays silent during the walk, however, only occasionally sparing a murderous glance for the raider-complainer.

As the party (save Quephetzial?) arrives to the spot, Sohwa regards the hole with a long, level look. An exasperated scowl slowly creeps on his face, as he clearly fights the urge to ask the lizards if they're serious.

He turns to Broken Antler, and regards his, well, antlers with a mock thoughtfulness. Then he draws his sword, a slender and fragile-looking yet pretty long piece of blackened iron — hardly a weapon made for tunnel fighting.

"Whatever is down there, they can bring it up. If they get away instead, that's their choice. We weren't going to hold them either way. But none but a fool would expect me," he growls, "to crawl."

Having said that, the warrior turns to the shaman, and sticks his sword into the ground (again). Sweeping a random blade of grass, he shakes it several times, the blade growing bigger and square-er with each shake, until it unfurls into a small sitting rug of green fabric.

Calmly placing the rug next to the sword, Sohwa takes a sit, draws a waterskin and proceeds to satisfy some thirst.

Mental Tools, of course. A sitting rug can be held in one hand well enough.

If we'll sit here for some time, Sohwa examines the onyx and the scrolls, as described (and rolled) in this post (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=24208409&postcount=97).

[Felhammer]

The two lizard men jump at the chance to dive down into the hole, squirming their way in with ease.

You transform into a wolf and pad foot down the cliffside, slinking along from one shadowy patch of crevasse to another. As you near the shore, you sneak out and grab the sack with your fangs, slowly backing away with your prize. The lizard men notice the sack slowly being pulled off the dolphin, onto shore and away from the group but they say nothing to the orca-skinned man who is rambunctiously retelling some kind of funny story. You get the feeling that the lizard men do not want to continue conversing with the orca-skinned man but are forced to converse never-the-less for fear of angering him. You also get the impression that they say nothing of you, for fear of angering such a ferocious beast.

After about five minutes, you manage to pull the burlap sack around the edge of a rocky outcropping, perhaps 30 feet from the orca-skinned man and the lizard men.

You are out of sight of the group (behind a rock) but you are still only 30 or so feet away.

[Taya]

Cloth

Cloth sits down in the grass, cross her legs and puts her staff in her lap. "I'm also not a big fan of small spaces. What do you say then, do we stay here and wait for them to come back? With, possibly, two language scrolls?"

[Snowbluff]

Qephetzial, Solitude and Loneliness

Qephetzial observes the plight of the lizardmen and concocts a cunning plan. First, she dumps the content the sack to keep it out of the way while she works on this. She'll accept whatever thanks she gets from the frog in the meantime.

What she is going to do is howl at the orca man and try and get to follow her and the sack, which she will fill with some rocks. Then, when it follows her, she will run around a corner and teleport up the cliff with Ethereal Stride, hide, then go back to the lizards.



Hide for when the time comes [roll0]

[Felhammer]

Qephetzial gets the attention of the orca-man. The dolphin rider looks at the shade, then the sack. He yells something in a language you do not understand. You begin to run but the orca-man does not give chase. Rather, he rockets off his dolphin and slams into the lizard men, tackling both to the ground. With furious blow and after furious blow, the orca-man pummels both lizard men.

After an initial scuffle, the orca-man grabs a rock and slams it into the head of one of the lizard men. One, two, three... Four times the rocks smashes into the skull of the lizard. Bits of brain and shattered bone ooze out of the dead man's head.

The second lizard scrambles to his knees and begs for surrender. The Orca man stands up, walks over to his enemy. He rests his hands on the lizard man's face and gently whispers to him... .Quite suddenly the dolphin rider jams his thumbs into the lizard's eyes. The lizard man screams in agony as he is slowly, viciously, agonizingly blinded.

The orca man then mounts his dolphin and gives chase. You run along the cliff side, leading the dolphin rider far away from his prize (the captive frog man). Once far enough away, you ethereally jump up to the top of the cliff, evading the orca man. He bellows a bestial war cry. You sneak back to the edge of the cliff to see the orca man riding out to sea, then diving beneath the waves.




After about 20 minutes, the lizard men have not returned...

[Snowbluff]

Qephetzial, Solitude and Loneliness

Queph goes into the cave, frowning at the blinded lizardman. Maybe the others are right. Maybe she is cursed. She pats him on the head and offers some jerky.