The Scarred Lands (IC)

[Torger]

Dawn, Landsday of Enkilot, AV 150

The sounds of a pattering rain can be heard, as a loud crash, followed by cursing in four different languages drifts up to you from the common room below. You are staying in the Flabby Tabby Inn, on the docks of Weyside, in the Province of Darakeane. The inn rates were a little dear, given the strain this venture has already put on your respective purses, but the rooms were clean and rat-free, the beds were stuffed with down, and the innkeeper supplied each of you with a door with an external lock. Plus, the fair included a traditional Keltic breakfast in the morning. All in all, not a bad deal.

The matronly chief cook, whom you had gathered is the Publican's wife, can be heard scolding the wait staff -- a pair of Halflings and one of her children, for "bulls-arsin' around in the kitchen when the people will be don fer breakfast in a bit, and Sacred Heart of Madriel herself... Look at the mes ye've made in here! You wait until your father comes back, Edwin, my son... You're going to get some knock..." The ranting fades off toward the other end of the building, where the kitchens are, but you're all pretty firmly awake, now, and though the wind can be heard outside, your warms are reasonably warm, given the season.

[Azerian Kelimon]

((The introduction handed down by Torger. If you like to play knowing only what your character knows, don't read it. Bah, we all know you're going to read, but I spoilered it anyway.))

Tiresias

Having set to wander, you make your way down from your Master's retreat in the foothills near the Spires of Gurak, heading west and slightly south, following the roll of the land. So this was the Darakean peninsula... The inhabitants seem to be mostly human, although there are two distinct groups evidenced. In semi-permanent villages, you encounter somewhat savage-looking people, with blue-painted tattoos and a somewhat suspicious nature, but they seemed friendly enough.

As you make your way through the forest you learned is called the Warring Wood, you stumble across one of the War colleges, and are invited to stay for the evening. Here, class upon class of young warriors train, and you are invited to spar with several of them, noting your combat prowess. You feel, upon entering the ring, that your abilities are suppressed, making this a place of pure martial value, and while you fair well, the diversity of your studies is ultimate your downfall in the final round of the tournament.

You sleep that night in the dormitory, a contended sleep of a day well spent, and a night in a good bed with a good fire. As you sleep, you have a Dream. your Weapon Master comes and bids you to realize your full potential. He points his finger toward the water, and you see an island that seems to be floating several hundred feet above the water. When you look back, the Weapons Master has become your father, bidding you to follow the dreams, follow your destiny. The final image of the vision is a four-armed scale, with all eight pans out of balance.

You awake with a purpose in mind, now. You make your way through Darakeane, intent to book passage to the Drifting Isle, which lies off the coast near Weyside. You've heard, in your travels, that Erias himself resides there, and it is the source of all dreams.




On the subject of investigating for some way to reach the Island.

You asked around, and it's actually a well-known Island in the area. There's stories all around about it, and there's a trade ferry that takes goods and pilgrims to and from the isle a couple of times a month. it lives from Weyside


Ahh, a new day dawns. No use wasting it in bed anymore. Better resume training, seeing I'll be stuck here for a while.

As he rises from his sleep, Tiresias starts to pick up his gear. Donning his armor, he picks up his sword, does a few practice lunges and stabs, and heads for his room's door.

As he exits the room, the hustle and bustle of a crowded tavern hits him. The Flabby Tabby has been good on accomodations, the food has been solid. But it doesn't matter to Tiresias, as he scans the room, looking for chatty looking individuals.

[fendrin]

Heinrich

At the first hint of noise, Heinrich silently but swiftly rolls out of bed, grasping the handaxe he had hidden under his pillow. Looking around and seeing that there were no actual intruders, he stands up and stretches, mumbling to himself in his native tongue.
"Right, still a bit jumpy. Too many nights hiding from murderous thugs. Well, never hurts to be cautious."

Quickly getting dressed and loading up his sparse but significant gear, he heads down to the common room.

[Minchandre]

Dael woke gently to the sound of rain on the roof - an unfamiliar sound, but one with which he is becoming better acquainted every day. Luxuriating in the bed for a moment - soft and warm beds have proven remarkably scarce on the road - Dael was driven to full awareness by the croaking of his gods-damned talkative familiar, "Time to get up, sleepyhead! The day is wasting, and you know what the Masters would say if they found you laying about all day..."

I should never have gotten a talking familiar he thought to himself as he hauled himself out of bed, A cat would have been much nicer. Or even a flense drake, maybe? I've heard they're useful...but no, I needed one that could relay messages if needed. Never mind that no one can understand the language I chose to teach it. Never mind that it has the mind of a dull three year old! No, I needed one that could talk.

The internal grumbling was just habit, though, and when he had pulled on loose trousers and shirt of undyed linen, he gave Sapheral a loving stroke and gestured for the raven to take his customary place on the left shoulder. Dressed now, he took a few moments to pull his hair into a loose braid, and washed his face and hands in the basin. Dael then pulled on his boots and descended to the common room.

In the common, Dael was rewarded for his familiar's efforts by being one of the first in the room. Thankfully, this afforded him an excellent spot at an unoccupied table by the fire. He sat there, for a minute, watching the brilliant patterns as they shifted, never still even for an instant. Before long, however, he was interrupted from his reverie by a male voice - the publican's son - asking, with a broad smile, "An' what can I get you fer breakfas', lass?"

Dael grinned outwardly even as he groaned inside, thankful that Sapheral hadn't understood the comment (that damned crow had a poor enough sense of humor anyway), and replied, in a surprisingly deep voice that was at odds with his somewhat feminine features, "I'll have whatever the cook feels is best, if that's alright. Just, ah, no meat, please." He thought a moment before adding, "Oh, and tea."

The boy instantly turned off the charm before scuttling away towards the kitchen, no doubt as embarrassed at mistake Dael for a girl as Dale himself had been the first time he'd encountered the problem.

This early, and with a mostly empty common, it didn't take long for the food to be brought out - by one of the halflings, Dael noted - and within seconds the young necromancer was eating with gusto, pausing only to feed choice tidbits to his complaining bird.

[daggaz]

Merrindel de Angouleme

Merrindel is already up, studying arduously in his spellbook, when the noise of the others waking disturbs his concentration. With a slight, distasteful hurriedness, he finishes the last mental reconition of the spell he was working on.

Just a cantrip, it doesn't have to be perfect, Merrindel.

Packing his few belongings tidly together, he leaves the room, one of many he is certain he will never see again.

[WakkaWakka]

(OOC: I'll put the intro here too - we should all be able to distinguish IC and OOC knowledge, after all.)Sean,

That first night was hard for you. You had left home with little more than the clothes on your back. Gale had left you in quite a predicament.

You run and hide in the surrounding woodlands until the other villagers finally grow tired of beating the bushes for you, and finally, with a litany of oaths, head for home.

Thinking you're in the clear, you start to emerge from the disused Badger den, and catch a final snippit of conversation -- "Let Virduk's cronies have him."

With a start of fear, you take in your surroundings, and realize that they left you be because you ran off the reserve and into Crown Lands. There was even a notice posted on the tree you were hiding under. You lacked your papers, bribery money, proper equipment, or even a blanket. You were definitely not equipped to handle patrols.

Just as you had resigned yourself into despair, a flicker of hope shone out of the darkness. Creeping closer, you note a band of merchants with outbound cargo camped for the night. On silent feet, you steal into the camp, and hide out in a crate of halfling-made porcelain bowls, prepared to catch a few hours of sleep and disappear before the crate was opened.

As you sleep, you dream of Gale. She backons you to come meet her, but you can't seem to reach her. Again and again you try, but you can't seem to manage to catch up with her. Finally, she calls to you, "Come and meet me, Sean... I'll find you at the place where the elements meet the ether... Follow your dreams" The final vision Sean had before waking was the image of an island, and superimposed over it was a four-armed, eight-panned merchant's scale, decidedly out of balance.

The dream was decidedly cryptic, but you did catch a glimpse of something you saw in a geography book, once, a map of the Drifting Isle, off the coast of Darakeane. Perhaps there are answers there.

Sean Farland
Slowly Sean wakes up - he had pushed himself hard, those last days, and could still feel every single step in his short legs.
The halflings here have been really of help, offering him a big discount for a room down below, near their quarters - it should have been for hired help, but the tavern isn't active enough to need that.
After a needed refreshing, he comes up into the common room, looks around... and sits at one of the smaller tables - there's more activity than he'd have expected.
It will take a bit to have a free moment with the cook - she should know if any ship is sailing to the Drifting Isle, and if they will accept a stow-away.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

Waking from the his sleep Graeme says, "Me thanks, Maker. I shall do ye proud as well, methinks." Graeme readjusts his chainshirt that he wears to bed and affixes his brooch of his plaid. The tartan of clan MacKelan is an ancient one, and it has different color combinations depending on the situation. Graeme wears the hunter's plaid, since its darker colors will help him blend in if needed. He puts his spell compontent pouch and sporran and sling about his waist. He slides his knife into its place on his calf.

Picking up his pack he looks inside for Haggis, his familiar. "Ah, thar ye be, Haggis. I thought ye'd be 'iding in thar. Come out ye no good biscuit thief, lest ye want tae be crushed by me keg o' dwarven dark." His rough hands gently stroke the fur of the weasel. A twinkle is detected in the dark scowling visage of the dwarf as he looks fondly down at his travel companion. Safely outside, Graeme fits his keg into his backpack and lifts it onto his shoulders. The weasel deftly climbs up the dwarf who squirms a bit as the creature does so until it sneaks into the pack under a flap.

His shield is painted with the symbols and runes of his family. Its crest of an two-handed axe crossed with a bastard sword is legendary. The runes dictate the virtues of his clan. He is proud to heft the shield in his hand. He is truly home when he picks up his hand-and-a-half. The pommel fits in his hand and feels to be a part of him. Graeme smiles and feels at home like this even though the highlands are far away.

The rumbling in his stomach tells the dwarf that he must eat.

ooc: I am not sure if I am at the inn or not, below is an account if he is:

So he stomps down the stairs to common room. The patter of rain makes the expression of the dwarf match the weather. "Oi, lass, 'ungry customers be waitin'. A mug o' ale, stovied tatties, and bannocks if'n it pleases ye, lass."

The mountain dwarf sets his pack down next to his seat at a table and rests the tip of his very large sword on the ground and begins spinning it slowly like a top as looks at the other patrons. He does so directly and his eyes narrow as he considers some (read: Dark Elf and Charundi Dwarf) but seem friendly to no one.

[Azerian Kelimon]

Ack, I almost forgot about him. Wake up, Etrius, we need to focus, Tiresias says as he strides through the inn to one of the tables father away from the entrance, so as to keep an eye on it.

Hey, Boss, are we fighting already? Some dragon stormed the camp? Yippie! The psycristal "says", telepathically communicating with him as "he" wakes up. "He" is always a little TOO keen on jumping into the fire, but "his" sunny personality was always nice to have around when things look dim.

Alas, no, Etrius. We AREN'T camping but in an inn, and there are no dragons nearby. We need to focus. Are you ready for it, or do you need to warm up with a few hydras? Tiresias says, as he waves his sword to call for someone to bring him some breakfast.

Hydras? Let's have a go at them, boss, let's do i-

I was joking, Etrius. There aren't any hydras around, I was teasing you.

Ignoring the protests of the crystal, Tiresias starts to focus, concentrating his powers and building a fraction of them so as to prepare for anything, readying them to be unleashed in a burst of psionic power. Then, when he is finished, he concentrates on the crystal, which at once stops complaining and assumes a serious attitude. He repeats the process, but tranfers the bit of his powers to the crystal. Then, as he prepares to confirm the success, he remembers something. Grow up the legs and attach yourself to the armor, Etrius. I can always use your sights there.

Right on, boss! As the psicrystal grows up tiny silvery legs, it opens the pouch at his belt and scurries upwards to his chest. There, it implants itself, now looking like some kind of shining silver badge. With that out of the way, Tiresias checks on the focii's success.

Rolling concentration for establishing a psionic focus:

[roll0]
[roll1]

[Toliudar]

Gislana

The dwarf opened her eyes, and stared at the ceiling a moment, trying to place where she was.

Ah. Of course. Thank you, Nemorga, for givink me another day in which to do your work, and the work of my people.

Rising, Gislana stumped onto the floor, where she went through her morning exercises, each motion attuned to a prayer and philosophical saying. Finished, she takes some of the decadent hygiene water from the basin, splashing it over herself. I do this to value the work of my colleagues who have made this bed and brought up this jug.

Her prayers complete, Gislana carefully puts on each piece of her thick splint mail over her deep red tunic, secretly enjoying the sense of support it gave. With a further prayer, she puts the Circular Blade of the People on its thong at her hip. Glancing around the room, she decided not to leave anything here when she went down - never knew when news of a ship might come! Gislana takes up her pack, crossbow and spear, and clanks down the stairs.

At least one other dwarf! Thank goodness. Even if it was that MacKelan reactionary. Gislana stumped down the stairs and set her spear up against the wall near Graeme. As he completes his order, she holds up a hand to get the server's attention.

Make that two, darlink. Thank you SO much.

Without waiting to be invited, Gislana sits opposite Graeme, silently contemplating the rain.

[Torger]

7:30AM,, Landsday of Enkilot, AV 150

The place slowly begins to fill up as patrons awakened by the clatter drift in, as well as the occasional local off the street. There is a bustle as the two halflings, the lad, and an adolescent girl run about filling orders, punctuated by the squalling voice of the Matron from the back room. Daffyd! Ivor! Careful with that porridge! Bloody halflings... Rosín, these eggs are going to the fellow in the funny hat. Yes, I'm sure it's a fellow. Ian, here come your father. Go help him with that cart! Depositing his tray, the lad leaves via the front door, where he can be seen unloading produce with the Publican. The serving girl deposits eggs, toast, and tea in front of Dael before bustling back into the kitchen, startled by the smelly Dwarf's demands for things unknown.

One of the Halflings approaches Tiresias, depositing a tray of eggs, sausage, porridge, and a weak ale.Hey, no weapons in the common room. He points at the sign above the bar, indicating a no drawn weapons policy.

Once again, the door opens, and seemingly floating on the hard-blowing wind, a willowy girl with red hair and vibrant clothes enters, taking a seat with the tall, slim man with the drawn cowl in the corner, studying a very well-bound book.

[daggaz]

(you read my mind about sitting alone, sorry meant to post it earlier but im not feeling too well here today)
Merrindel de Angouleme

Merrindel looks up from his book as the cold wind blows in thru the open door, and what could be mistaken for a nearly imperceivable smile breaks the solice of his otherwise dour and solemn contenance.

The din of the breakfast crowd was annoying, but at least he could focus enough to read through it. Ignoring the others was easy. It was the cold that got to him. It caught him hiding in his cloak, seeped into his thinning bones, it crawled into bed with him at night, as he lay meditating on his problems at hand. He shivered, and pulled the cloak tighter with one hand as he slid the book to one side, clearing some space for his guest.

I would almost cast a spell, but to keep that cold at bay. I trust you slept better than myself, he says quietly to her, a wry look on his face betraying the self-irony of his last statement. If you are hungry, please, order something. I still have some coin left. Personally, I couldn't eat with such a.. cacophony in the room.

He looks about the room in obvious distaste; the motley crew of ragtag travelers, all jammering for a bite to eat and talking at the same time. He could recognize at least three languages buzzing in the air, more if he cared to actually focus on such things. But as always, he had much more pressing things on his mind.

[Azerian Kelimon]

Sorry for waving the thing around. Just wanted to get someone to notice I'm here. By the way, could you get me some a glass of water? And before you ask, Tiresias mutters rapidly, I'm not asking for alcohol because I want to keep a clear head.

Looking at the new arrivals, Tiresias decides to make sure he focuses this time, and absentmindedly watches the pair reading the book as, without error, the psionic energy accumulates.

Heh. That girl looks like Elly, but it's a pity she never reads much. I'd give a lot to see her picking up a book. Don't you agree, Etrius?

Not really, boss. I'd like it if she picked up a sword and started slaying some beasts, though!

Never change, buddy, never change, he chuckles, as he starts devouring the eggs.


Edit: That bit about focusing meant taking 10. Since I have a +10 bonus on my concentration check, I auto succeed.

[Torger]

Irina

Merci, Monseur. I will when the server returns. I was talking to the dock workers, and it seems there is a departure scheduled for the Drifting Isle this afternoon, weather permitting. She addresses her companion in High Elven, if anyone cares to listen, and speaks the language, but the words "Drifting Isle" are in Common, as is regular for place names. DC 10 Listen Check to pick it up. It's passive, so everyone roll it

The Halfling server returns, depositing an earthenware vessel of water in front of Tiresias before bustling off again. The girl, Rosín, returns and deposits to trays of the breakfast special in front of the Dwarves, complete with tankards of morning ale, and is about to scurry off hen the red-haired girl with the slightly elfin features stops her with a hand on her arm.

I will have the breakfast special, please.Her Common is flawless, with only the slightest hint of an accent, and she seems to steady the girl a little after her encounter with the Dwarves.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Gislana scanned the room, wincing each time the bombastic pig of a cook ordered the poor oppressed halflings around. If only they understood that the chains they wore could be shrugged off with the lightest of efforts. Perhaps if I found a comely mouthpiece to speak FOR me. Hmm.

She glanced up at the tattooed dwarf opposite her.

Well, not this one, clearly. Ah well.

Her smile is a bit forced.

So! What business brinks you to Weyside on such a beautiful day. At least, a beautiful day to be underground.

[daggaz]

Merrindel de Angouleme

This afternoon? That is perfect news. The sooner we leave, the better.

He pauses, his attention momentarily caught by the rather loud Charundi woman as she harrangues the mountain dwarf across her table. He half rolls his eyes towards them and away again, exhaling abruptly.

Yes, the sooner the better. And the cost of passage?

[Minchandre]

Dael

After quickly finishing his breakfast - quite passable, if a little bland - Dael sat back and sipped at his tea as he watched the room fill up. He watched as the halfling descended, and as the dwarves entered into their little congress. He considered joining them, and was on his way to, when she walked in. She was beautiful, which would have been enough to merit a second look on its own, but she reminded him of home - Hollowfaust had no shortage of slimly built redheads with an interest in books (Dael himself was living proof of that), but the rest of the world had proven tragically deficient in this key field.

Bravado battled with shyness for a minute as Dael decided whether or not to presume to introduce himself, and shyness was winning.

That was, shyness had been winning, until he heard her speak: "...and it seems there is a departure scheduled for the Drifting Isle this afternoon, weather permitting." To be nervous about talking to girls was one thing; to be nervous to meet your goal was another! With a whispered, "Wish me luck, eh?" to Sapheral, he got up and moved to where the girl and man were talking.

"Excuse me miss, sir," he began in High Elven, "But if I might impose on you for a moment? I, too, was hoping if I might be able to find passage the Drifting Isle in the near future, and I couldn't help but overhear you. Many apologies for imposing, but to miss such an opportunity would be foolish." After a moment, he seems to realize something.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, thrusting out his hand, "And I am Dael Ruther, Journeyman Nec-ahem. Wizard."

[Torger]

Irina

The girl looks up, startled by the man who approached from behind, and the belt of dangling chimes she wore tinkled as she jumped in her seat. With a quick glance at Merrindel, she decided to handle this first contact. Her skin had the alabaster cast of the High Elven, and closer inspection showed slight points to her ears, but her dress and her manner ere certainly not of the High Elves. Good morning, Monseur. Myself and my companion were bound for the Island, on a pilgrimage, of sorts. There is a transport scheduled to leave from Pier 17 this afternoon. As I was saying, the cost of crossing is fairly modest, as I gathered they made their money in bulk, and on the cargo shipments. You are also bound for the Solemnaic Vale? She spoke in High Elven, but squtched to Common as the serving girl approached.

Thank you, my dear... She takes the tray from the poor girl, who hurried back to help her mother. Having delivered her information, Irina turns to begin to eat, having neither introduced herself, nor invited Dael to sit. It as not a cold shoulder, just a guarded one.

[Minchandre]

Dael seemed a bit put out by lack of returned hospitality, but not to a great degree - many necromancers were notorious peeves, and those apprentices who hadn't learned to deal with rudeness had washed out. So, he put on his best smile, and plowed on ahead, "I am, in fact," he replied in High Elven. "As for money, I have a modest sum, and I'm certain I could provide payment in service if my gold does not suffice. Do you think the transport would mind terribly one more hanger-on?"

EDIT: Consistent tense.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

The dwarf merely sneers at Gislana. He does his best to smile at the serving girl with a. "Me thanks, lass." He puts his head down and eats, but stops chewing when Irina speaks of the island. Looking over in her direction, it is obvious to all that the taciturn dwarf's interest is piqued by this.

When Gislana tries to make conversation, Graeme says, "'Tis bad enough tha' I be needin' tae drink their poor excuse fur what they call ale in these parts - water 'as more kick. I 'ave little tae say tae ye, lest ye wish tae spoil me breakfast." Graeme slips some of his food into the backpack as he speaks. He looks about and sees Dael conversing with Irina.

Finishing his breakfast quickly, Graeme downs the ale in a few long pulls and wipes the foam from his beard. Leaving his pack where it lay with a dire look at Gislana to signify, 'one touch and you'd best have troll blood in you to regenerate the bloody stump that you would get for touching my things,' Graeme heads over to Dael and the elven maiden.

Casually holding his sword in the crook of his large arm he announces, "Beggin' yer pardon miss, but is this 'ere fellah botherin' ye?"

[daggaz]

Merrindel de Angouleme

Merrindel turns his glance on the young human, a patronizing look reserved only for the youngest and dimmest, and he says in clear common, I am sure that is a matter of discussion between you, and the ships captain, wouldn't you agree? I can assure you, the Lady here knows nothing of it, nor can she make the arrangements for you. Now if you do not mind, we would like to eat in peace.

Turning to the newly arrived dwarf, his eyes narrow some at the sword being cradled in his face, and he has only this to say. We are more than capable of handling our own business, master dwarf, and I do believe we were all asked to put our toys away. Now if you do not mind..

[fendrin]

Heinrich

I wonder what's going on over there. Still, with that dwarf involved I'm not going to get too curious, unless someone gets violent.
Heinrich waves down the nearest server.
"Roast meat, some cheese, and" he pauses.
I don't have much money left, but I I have to have something to drink.
He continues.
"a bottle of your least expensive wine, watered. If it could be wrapped to go, I would be extremely grateful."

Why am I even going to this island? I doubt that was really Nathalos or my mother. Still, it was compelling.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

As the boorish lout of a dwarf left the table just as Gislana was only partway into savouring this Food of the People, she shrugged.

Some are so blinded by their servitude, that they are unable to recognize kindness. If my own folk are unable to see it, it should be no surprise that these benighted barbarians are ignorant as well.

As she finishes off her meal, she too watches the interplay, and especially the murmurings in elven going on. Huh. Business transactions, I suppose. If my supply of these coins shrinks much further, I suppose I shall be reduced to offering the last rites of Nemorga to dying beggars in the street. How apalling!

Rising, Gislana rises and nods to whichever of her fellow guests chooses to make eye contact with her. Taking up her spear, she slips out and to the docks.

Torger, feel free to freeze me before this if you have something planned for in the common room. Otherwise, she'll head down to the docks and start enquiring at ships for passage to the Drifting Isle.

[WakkaWakka]

edit: that should have gone into the ooc - sorry, I've just waken in real life too. Have I understood how the board roller works? Maybe!
Listen check! [roll0]
Sean Farland
From his corner Sean hears the elven words, and frezees.
The musical sound reminds him of Gale's laughter, and there's more to that.
Drifting Isle.
He has to get there too, and with haste - the halfling family is helpful, but it's sickening to impose on them. They are too much like his old clan.
That, and in a couple of weeks they'll try to get he and Rosin married - even too hospitable, toward other halflings.

Smiling, he jumps up and beelines toward the elven maid:
Lady, I couldn't but hear too - I'm looking for a ship, too. Just my luck, to find y'all here!
Toward the vale where the world touches the sky - and his eyes glaze slightly, thinking of her - That's were you are going too, aren't you?

[Azerian Kelimon]

Hmm. Did you hear that, old pal?, Tiresias says as he wipes the last of his breakfast.

Yippee! We're leaving this place today! I can't wait to go to that island and kick some ass, boss! Etrius happily exclaimed.

Well, not right now. What I need is that you detache and go eavesdrop on that group of people there, while I go around asking some questions about that group. It isn't exactly normal to see such an odd bunch of travelers heading for the same place. Can you do that? He says as he calls one of the halflings.

Right on, boss! Etrius responds as he detaches from Tiresias' chest and scurries along the bottom of the wall towards the group.

Can I ask you a few questions? He says, as the halfling approaches.

See that group of guests? What can you tell me about them? He says, as he slips a few coins into the halfling's hand.

[Darius]

Turning to the newly arrived dwarf, his eyes narrow some at the sword being cradled in his face, and he has only this to say. We are more than capable of handling our own business, master dwarf, and I do believe we were all asked to put our toys away. Now if you do not mind..

Graeme MacKelan

Without taking his eyes off of the lady, Graeme says smiling a broken toothed smile, "'Scuse me, dearie." The smile is gone in an instant and replaced with a grimace as he looks upon Merrindel, "I dinnae recall 'dressin' ye, fancy pants. The lass kin speak fur 'erself. Ye best butt out b'fore I wants tae play wit' me toy wit' ye."

Graeme then looks back at the lady of the table and says, "Pardon me manners, lass, but I be waitin' all patient like fur the answer tae me question, and yer pet 'ere is makin' me lose me patience."

[Torger]

8:00AM, Landsday of Enkilot, AV 150

The Halfling male, who was clearing a table, stopped abruptly hen he hears a jingle of coins from Tiresias. [MY lord...? He approached the table, and with a glance over his shoulder, busied himself clearing dishes, his voice at a low whisper.

Ah, that crowd, odd bunch, eh? The prissy albino elf and the girl rolled in day before yesterday, right at dark. He spends most of his time in his room, or with books, and she's been about in the marketplace. Nice girl. Good tipper. I've never seen an elf with white skin before. It's definitely different. The Dwarf with the sword and the blackskinned one that gives everyone the jibblies have been here a couple of days longer. She keeps trying to unionize the workers, or something. They both spend a lot of time out and about... The androgynous guy's been here for a few days, too. Came up from the south, he said. Some kinda wizard, or somethin' Unnatural stuff. Burns your flesh off... The black-skinned elf arrived with a caravan at the beginning of the week. He must be from deep in the Ganjus to have skin that dark, eh? Doesn't seem like a druid to me, though... More like a spring that's wound too tight. That's pretty much everyone staying here of note, MY Lord...

He finishes clearing the dishes from the table, and is about to leave, deftly pocketing the coin, when an enormously corpulent cat waddles over to him and miaows rather pitiably. Perhaps this is the inn's namesake... Hwyrdd's hairy footpads... Ivor! The cat's awake, and it's doing that thing again... He rushes off with the dishes, followed by the waddling, yowling cat.

Irina

Well... This has taken a turn for the worse... Irina no sat, back against the wall, surrounded by promised violence and hostility. Sighing deeply, she decides to try and diffuse this. Speaking in the common tongue, she begins, Gentlemen, if I might... Monseur Ruther, was it? I am unaware of the capacity nor the availability of seating on the boat. The shipmaster will not arrive for a couple of hours yet. The boat is docked at pier 17. She switches to Mountain Dwarven in the middle of her speech. Monseur Dwarf, while your intentions were noble, we find ourselves unneeding of your not insubstantial protective powers at this time. Thank you for the offer.

Having addressed everyone in their own tongue, as best as she could figure, She smiles pleasantly and expects them to depart.

[Azerian Kelimon]

Thanks, m'friend. That's been rather useful..., Tiresias mutters, as he focuses on what he hears through his crystal.

Watch it, Etrius. There's trouble boiling here, we might get into a barfight.

Woohoo! Dibs on hitting someone with a chair! Tiresias sighed.

Be serious, Etrius. We need to ensure no one is harmed, especially by us. Having dangerous people following our steps wouldn't be fun. What can we do to stop them from having a go at each other....Ah. Etrius, climb high enough so that no one can reach you and start drawing some attention.

Pooh! You owe me one, boss! I wanted to smash someone with a chair! While he complained, Etrius was obedient. He rapidly climbed up the wall, steadied himself, and took a jump to the young girl's hair..and missed. Then, after making his triumphant entrance, he jumped off to the wall and started climbing, mkaing sure he wasn't in reach of the guests.

*Sigh* That wasn't what I intended, Etrius, but thanks anyway.

It's no problem, boss! But promise we'll get a go at some harpies soon!

I promise, Etrius, I promise.

[Minchandre]

Dael forces another smile and addresses the woman in Elven again, "I thank you for that information, at least, Miss. And," he adds, turning to the man, "I apologize if I have offended you in some way. I meant no imposition."

Lastly, he turns to the incredibly rude dwarf, and addresses him in his own tongue, with a touch of a grin, "And I am not certain what it was I did to offend you, Servant of Corean, but consider this: if I had been bothering the lady and the gentleman with my polite question, then it is doubly certain that you were bothering them with you bluff and bluster. Serve the Crusader as you may, not all things call for a crusade."

At that, the young necromancer turned from the table and returned to his room. A lifetime's training in orderly habits meant that his things were already packed, and so he simply threw on his cloak, hat, and scarf, fastened his belt, and toss on his pack. As he returned to the common to leave, the difference was striking: before, he had been a slight youth with unusual hair and a ready smile; now, he struck an imposing figure with with dark, wide shouldered cloak, broad black hat pulled over his features, gray scarf covering his face, and familiar perched on his shoulder, cackling to itself in Draconic. Anyone who had ever seen a Hollowfaust necromancer would be able to recognize his appearance, but few enough had that he fell to habit rather than caution.

Thus bundled up against the cold and rain, he strode confidently through the room, and through the door, to seek pier 17.

[Darius]

Irina

Well... This has taken a turn for the worse... Irina no sat, back against the wall, surrounded by promised violence and hostility. Sighing deeply, she decides to try and diffuse this. Speaking in the common tongue, she begins, Gentlemen, if I might... Monseur Ruther, was it? I am unaware of the capacity nor the availability of seating on the boat. The shipmaster will not arrive for a couple of hours yet. The boat is docked at pier 17. She switches to Mountain Dwarven in the middle of her speech. Monseur Dwarf, while your intentions were noble, we find ourselves unneeding of your not insubstantial protective powers at this time. Thank you for the offer.

Having addressed everyone in their own tongue, as best as she could figure, She smiles pleasantly and expects them to depart.


Graeme MacKelan

The dwarf cannot help but overhear the conversation addressed to Moneur Ruther and makes a mental note, Pier 17 - tha' must be th' place where the boat tae th' Driftin' Isle be. The warrior-priest is visibly surprised when he is addressed in his own tongue. He relaxes a bit, but still has a closed posture.

He then smiles and bows his head out of respect of the fair maiden's diplomatic response and says in mountain dwarf, "Then I shall make me leave, kind lass. You have honored this child of Goran by speaking in his native tongue. I only wish I could repeat the gesture in kind. May the road rise to meet ye."

ooc: Edit due to ninja strike:

Dael forces another smile and addresses the woman in Elven again,

Lastly, he turns to the incredibly rude dwarf, and addresses him in his own tongue, with a touch of a grin, [color=blue]"And I am not certain what it was I did to offend you, Servant of Corean, but consider this: if I had been bothering the lady and the gentleman with my polite question, then it is doubly certain that you were bothering them with you bluff and bluster. Serve the Crusader as you may, not all things call for a crusade."

At that, the young necromancer turned from the table and returned to his room.


Graeme is impressed with the use of his native language a second time, but his wisdom dictates that this man is most likely some swindler who learned the dwarven tongue only to better a deal to get the better deal in trading with his kin. He says to the Ruther in common, "Ye dinnae offend me 't'all, lad - 'til jest now, th' is. If'n ye talks tae 'v'ryone in some secret tongue, ye best 'spect some misunderstandin'. Thar be no bluffin' or blust'rin' 'bout it wit me way o' servin' th' Shinin' Lord, but mark me words - ye best watch 'ow ye wags yer tongue b'fore someone who be not as tolerant feeds it tae ye wit' a side o' broken teeth." He then stares at the two males with dagger eyes for a moment then smiles and bows his head again at Irina and turns.


Seeing the Charundi still eating with grace and finery at the table, he returns and says to her, "I'll be makin' me leave. Dinnae get all misty-eyed on me at our partin' ways, but Goran's will guides me tae do what nay a dwarf 'ould ever do sober - tha' be take a floatin' coffin tae some misbegotten place in th' middle o' yon sea. I nearly lost me 'fast just thinkin' 'bout it." Graeme easily lifts his pack and puts it on as he speaks. He straps on his shield and carries his bastard sword casually. He begins to head for the door and down to Pier 17 (unless other things are in store for him).

[WakkaWakka]

Sean Farland

That elf lady... poor lass - she was scared shut!
Pier 17, in a couple of hours, she said.
I'll be there - maybe she'll know if I've read my dream right... and I can't leave a lady with all those dwarves, can I?

Taken leave of the inn-keepers as the morning buisness allows, he takes his pack and goes to study the boat, in the off-chance he needs to smuggle himself in unnoticed - not a very bright idea, but his purse is getting empty... maybe the captain will ask for an affordable price, maybe not.
Hey, it looks like a popular idea - the tavern is empting!

And so he goes, to sit on the pier and lose himself in the immensity of the ocean, with the sky above... to study the boat, I mean!

[Torger]

8:30AM, Landsday of Enkilot, AV 150

The sky is overcast, with low, dark clouds. The day's heat being sucked away by chill rain and biting wind as people go about their business with all possible speed and protective clothing. The Month of Storms is certainly living up to its name.

Right from the Inn's door and down a short promenade lined with mercantile shops and offices, the ocean can be heard, MAnawae's ongoing sigh as her aves lap against the shore. The off-shore ind masks the smell of the harbour, and has the docked ships straining at their lashings. Pier Twelve is immediately at the end of the promenade, with a sign declaring it to be the property of "Golden Hammer Mercantile, Fangsfall." Several ships stand moored, with one being unloaded, and yet another pulling into the dock. A guess would be that the cargo in trade goods, beans, or some similar legume, as the sacks shake like maracas when jostled.

The dock numbers seem to ascend as one heads to the left, with piers beign the property of other mercantile firms, the state, the army, and even private boating concerns. Pier 17 is the last in the line, and seems to be the smallest, holding only two schooners -- a three-mast and a two -- and a smaller coastal boat. The signage seems to indicate that it belongs to "Daring Deliveries -- We bring anything to any place, guaranteed" and lists a place of incorporation as being Karria. There is a smaller, hand-painted sign which reads, "Dream-struck Pilgrims see Shipmaster Rogers."

The only other feature on the dock is a smallish shed with a single dirty window and an anchor leaning against the side. The Daring Deliveries logo is replicated above the door, and a badly tarnished brass plaque indicates that this is the office of Shipmaster Rogers. The flicker of firelight through the filthy glass seems to indicate that the office is occupied, and there is the sound of activity from the two-masted ship.

[daggaz]

Merrindel de Angouleme

(back in the inn)

The nerve of some people! Truly, the dwarves have better to offer as a race. It is exactly as I said, the sooner we leave, the better. It just pains me to think that half the inn will be following us on our journey. Perhaps we had better make haste to the docks, in case there aren't enough tickets? After you are done eating, of course.. He addresses her in high elven, smiling when the serving girl comes, and pays for the food.

When she is finished, they head to the docks to seek out the ship's captain. He is tense and slightly restless, as usual, and he pulls his cloak tight about him as the stiff ocean breeze slides across the bay to strike him in the face.

Making their way down the docks, he watches the larger vessels being loaded and unloaded, admiring the industrious nature of the humans as one might admire a colony of ants shuttling foodstuffs into an anthill.

His contemplative thoughts are interrupted when they reach Pier 17, however, by the sight of the rather rickshaw looking building and the equally dingy boats moored alongside.

Well, this must be it. I had rather hoped the vessel would be ..somewhat larger, but one cannot be too demanding I suppose.

A smile crosses his lips as he notices the name of the shipping company as well as the logo, "Dream-struck Pilgrims see Shipmaster Rogers." Loosening the cowl from about his face, he knocks on the door.

[Minchandre]

Dael

Our young journeyman took his time going to the docks, as he was in no great hurry and rain continued to be something of a novelty for those from the southern end of Ghelspad. With time, he worked his way to the shore, and thence to the piers.

When he reached the ocean, Dael paused. So much water...it's amazing. "Hey, Sapheral, did you know that there was so much water in the world?"

"It smells funny," replied the articulate avian in question, causing Dael to take a great breathe in through his nose. The bird was right, of course: the overwhelming smell was that of brine, as might be expected, but under that he smelled fish and sand, and, he noticed with distaste, more than a hint of rot. The novelty quickly faded as Dael consigned the entire ocean as one giant midden heap, and he walked away quickly towards pier 17.

The piers, in general, have an air of activity and motion that Dael finds comforting. He looks in wonder at the ships - So big! - and wends his way towards the wharf marked 17. There, he spares a moment to look at the boats, which seem small compared to the others, but look well-maintained, and finds the sign directing him towards Shipmaster Rogers. He quickly spots the office and goes to the door...only to find the half-elven lady and that damnably rude man.

Still, the best way to deal with the grumpy is often good cheer, and so Dael pulls down his scarf a little to free his mouth for talking, and begins in High Elven, "Hello again miss, sir. Fancy seeing you here, eh? How have the last minutes found you?"

[fendrin]

Heinrich

The serving-hafling returns to Heinrich's table with a bundle in a thin, worn sack.
I should give a tip, but can I afford it? Oh why not, I'm probably going to blow the rest of my money on a one way trip anyway. What use is money when you're stranded on an island?
Wordlessly, Heinrich stacks the appropriate coinage on the table. As he takes the sack from the halfling, he surreptitiously slides a small copper coin into the small man's hand, nodding slightly as he does so.
I wouldn't put it past a place like this to take a cut from the tips, if not all of them. I hope he does the smart thing and keeps quiet about it.

OOC: That probably doesn't require a check, but if it does, Heinrich takes 10 for a Sleight Of Hand check of 20.

Rising, Heinrich quickly ties the sack to his belt and walks out the door.

Taking a deep breath of the sea-tinged air, he surveys his surroundings.
Ah, that smell. So strange, so strong, it pervades the atmosphere like nothing else I have experienced. It almost smells like blood, but cooler, moister. Less energetic, but just as vibrant. Will I ever get used to it? probably not. That sign... 'Dream-struck Pilgrims'. If that's not me I don't know what is. Still, it's an odd thing to put up unless he means something else. Or there are a lot more people like me who have had potentially prophetic dreams... what are the chances of that?

Heinrich walks to the office of Shipmaster Rogers.

[WakkaWakka]

Sean Farland

After deciding that the ship looks too small to hide into (and how is done a the inside of a ship anyway...), and that it will be a cheap ride anyway, Sean is back on the pier edge, flopping his feet and looking about as dream-struck as you can be without being asleep.
The elven maid said "a couple of hours" - but someone comes along quite a bit before.
He was with the elf maid - they seemed pretty close, too.
Maybe he could be Rogers... no, he's knocking on the door.
He'll be an other dreamstuck. Or not. He doesn't look the part.

As the man goes to knock, Sean leans back, to voice him that the shipmaster isn't here yet... and finds a veritable crowd has formed.

Oh, well - there's too many of them tallies. Better to simply wait, and see.
I will notice when the shipmaster comes in, I've been there all the time.
Hey! why are they going into the... office?
That Rogers - he sneaked in unnoticed - I'd better be more careful in future.
Taken by surprise, the small halfling sighs and walks toward the group.

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

Even to the eyes of townsfolk, it was not hard to pick out the knight wearing full plate, sharing a table near the fireplace with two mountain-men. His shield lay on the table, his sword sheathed behind. Beyond that, a simple brown cloak overlay any other belongings. The oddest of all, however, is the fact that his face mask is still down. The conversation is kept in somewhat low-tones so as to avoid attention.

[Azerian Kelimon]

Well, time to go, old pal. Seems as if we're going to have quite a lot of free time, so, would you like any books or ballads?

Yes, boss! Maybe the tale of the lost king, or the epic of the city of the heavens? But I don't want any songs, The Psicrystal exclaims, as Tiresias stands up and heads for the exit, his meal and accomodations having been paid beforehand.


Exiting the inn into a street, and walking past the shops with the intention of getting to the docks and finding any book stores if at all possible, Tiresias looks around, until he sees a store with an open book as a sign. Entering, he is greeted by the smell of dusty tomes and ancient scripts. Approaching an old man who is at a counter, he asks Do you have any epics or ballads for sale?

This is a bookstore, son. If it has been written on paper, we have it. Youth this days... the old man irritably mumbles, apparently about to enter a rant as Tiresias abruptly cuts him short.

Well, then...do you have the books and song lyrics of this list? he says, as he hands the old man a small list.

Let's see...we don't have the Black dog, nor do we have the City Woman, or the Ethereal touch, but we have the other ballads. as for the books...no, we don't have any of these, he says, as he shakes his head.

What about the Tale of the Shadowstrikers? D'you have it?

Let me take a look... the old man grumbles as he disappears behind a stack of books.

YES, WE HAVE IT! The old man vociferates as he returns with a heavy, pitch black tome.

Well, this mean boy, plus all those lyrics...let's see...it'll be 3 golds and 3 silvers, if you want them. Without a word, Tiresias takes the required amount out of his pouch and hands it to the old man, who snatches his sack, and fills it with the scrolls and book.

Good, now bug off, before you break something!, he says, as Tiresias leaves.


Etrius, I didn't find the books you wanted, but I got the story of the Shadowstrikers. Is that okay? He adds, as waves of disillusion emit from the crystal.

Thanks, boss. That's very kind of you.



As he reaches Pier 16, Tiresias can see the pair from the inn, the androgynous man, another elf, and a halfling who walks towards them.

Hmm...Etrius, I want you to be serious about this. The people we saw at the inn are here again. What do you think we should do? I'm leaning on waiting to see if anyone else is coming, in case something breaks out. Your thoughts?

You know I like fights, master, but in all seriousness, I think we should wait to see if anyone else is coming. In all fights, it's better to know where both friend and foe are, to avoid surprises, Etrius says, adopting a much more grown up tone of "voice", which surprises Tiresias. To tell the truth, he's always surprised to see the depth Etrius is capable of, but it also fill him with pride.

You speak the truth, Etrius. Let's try a hiding spot, he says, and proceds to hide in an open warehouse.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

His head down against the rain, Graeme pays little attention to his surroundings - only looking up once and awhile to get his bearings as he continues to trudge along. The rain is the only bath he has taken in a long time, and Graeme smells like a wet dog. When he comes to Pier 17, he finally looks up.

He reads the signs and then notices the others. "By Goran's Axe!" Graeme curses loudly. He then joins the others of the party that have gathered around the shipmaster's shack. "Why, I'll be a bearded peck," he says in greeting to the others, "Fancy meetin' ye 'ere. Methinks th' world isn't big enough if'n I 'ave tae ante up wit' th' lot o' ye." He grumbles out, "Did any o' ye at least 'ave th' presence o' mind tae knock, or does Graeme MacKelan 'ave tae do all th' work as usual?"

[Torger]

Fast Forward button. Everyone got a few introductory posts, and we're starting to get a fell for the dynamics, but I wanna get to the meat, dammit. :smalltongue:

10:00AM, Landsday of Enkilot, AV 150

The rain slacks to a light drizzle as, in ones and twos, you all make your way toward Pier 17. The wind is consistent, blowing off-short with force, but the dockside buildings seem to shield you from the brunt of it. Around mid-morning, a stocky, middle-aged human arrives. He is wearing a tri-corner hat and a long wool greatcoat. He rather brusquely pushes his way through the crown around the door. [Make way. Move aside, now. Excuse me, Missy, but ye won't be gettin' tickets fer the passage if'n I can't get into me office... His voice sounds like gravel with a bad cough, and he has the red nose of a hard-drinking man.

Sliding a key into the door, he opens it and steps inside, hanging the greatcoat on a stand and moving to sit behind a desk, right next to the fire. He is, while not polite, far from rude in dealing with you, and you gather that he takes pilgrims more so that they'll stop stowing away on his ship, than out of any real need or interest in passengers. The fare, you learn, is one gold half-starter or equivalent per leg of the journey (OOC: Five silver), and includes bunk space and food, such as it is. You will be traveling in the two-masted ship outside, which he refers to as The Saucy Mare Greldik, her Captain ill be by later, but the crew is making ready to sail.

He takes your money, gives you your ticket, and tells you that departure is scheduled for an hour's time. It seems they're trying to get around some weather, and need to leave earlier than planned. You are welcomed to stow your gear aboard, thanked for traveling with Daring Deliveries, and commanded to close the door behind you to keep out the cold.

Embarkation is no issue. A Youngish human boy takes your tickets ans shows you to the passenger deck. There is bunkspace for 25+ people, but there seem to be only eleven passengers on this voyage. Blankets are, you note, not provided, and you are encouraged to stay below deck until after departure, due to the hazards of departing in such wind.

Looking around as you settle in, you note that, it seems, the entire common room of the Flabby Tabby has followed you -- The two dwarves -- Charduni and Mountain, the two elves -- Dark and High, the androgynous human in the funny hat, the sword-happy fellow with the strange badge on his chest, the man in full-plate and his Goliath comrades, the slight, red-haired girl ho jingled hen she walked, and it even seems like one of the halfling servants made it on board. This should be an interesting five days at sea...

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Wandering the docks.

The solemn dwarf woman is not far into her conversations with ship owners when she notices a certain congregation of her fellow breakfasters over by pier 17. Not bothering with being inobtrusive, she simply walks over to listen and observe. She sees the sign for "dream-struck pilgrims", and it's hard to keep a gasp from emerging. Was there something about this island that sent out dreams, perhaps to lure the protetar- er, general populace - to their doom? She was all the more determined to investigate now.

Gislana watched the insufferable dwarf trying to bully the others, and decides to hang back for the time being. Seeing the dark elf standing with the others, Gislana takes her chances, and approaches. She speaks in the common tongue.

Please be excusink me. This is the line for going to the island, yes?

Simu-Ninja-Edit - consider this to have happened before Torger's post.

[WakkaWakka]

edit: either ignore the post, or consider it happened before Torger's - that's what I get for being slow...
Sean Farland

That dwarf again... - hey, but wasn't that girl knockin'? She got me... I thought she had open'd it!

As the mage isn't getting any response from the shack, he addresses the loud dwarf, trying to smile - an habit all halflings get, with time - "Looks like Master Rogers 's not here yet - it's still a bit too early for him!"
Master Rogers... said this way the name clicks differently - wasn't him in the inn? The roaring drunk, who got dunked in the sea yesterday night? Or was it Rangers?
"But let's wait a bit - he fixed appointements, did he not?"

[Azerian Kelimon]

((Consider Tiresias enters approaches the group following the captain. Heh. Good thing I hid in the warehouse, the rain didn't get me much. Also, Madrigal still hasn't got here. Give 'im a mini adventure through the depths of the ocean, I say. He doesn't need to breath, after all.

Oh, wait. He got in. Didnae notice.))


Looking around the deck, Tiresias recognizes most of the people, but a man who wear full plate draws his attention. That fellow wasn't around when I was at the inn or waiting at the shack. Too bad I can't get some information on him, but it doesn't matter anyway.


Resuming his gazing around the room, he sees a halfling. He doesn't look like he's a crewmate, why would he be around the passengers deck if he was one? Another mystery man. Guess I'll get to know more of him while we're around the ship.


The rest of the passengers are known to him. They do seem a bit calmer now, however. It doesn't seem likely the same tense atmosphere will erupt once again.

Having satisfied his curiosity to the best of his ability, Tiresias starts searching his sack for the book he bought, finds it, and starts reading it, while chuckling softly. Between the book and the group, he certainly won't have a boring trip!

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Gislana is VERY grateful that the relatively uncrowded conditions in the passenger quarters means that she is able to secure a lower bunk. She supposed that humour was a worthy enough diversion for the People, but not when it was at her expense.

Squeezing her packsack and spear under her bunk, Gislana considers trying to find a hiding place for her valuables, until she realizes that she doesn't really have any at this point. Considering the lightness of her purse, she was doubly glad at the bargain-basement prices of the voyage, and simply nods gratefully to Master Rogers when she counted out the silver for her ticket.

Waiting now for the Saucy Mare to leave port, she spent time walking the confines of their shared accommodation. As a true Charduni, of course, she had spent years under the earth, and was used to sharing air and ground, water and bread. But some of these folk made her nervous. The way their eyes roved...

Well, nothing for it, but to try. Contact - any contact - was preferable to simply staring at each other.

Gislana made no attempt to be subtle, but simply walked up to the Hollow Knight. Examining the joint work on the lower half of the armour, she grunted in approval.

Nice work on the armour. Smooth lines, nothing getting in the way of movement. Who made your -

What was the protocol with a creature who wasn't exactly wearing the armour, but wasn't really the armour itself either. She decided to change tacks.

The craftsmanship looks pre-War. Is there a story behind this metal?

[fendrin]

Heinrich

After Heinrich enters the cramped conditions of the passenger compartment.
Ah, just like home. Except it moves a lot more. And the occupants smell more. He looks over at the other elven passenger and the red haired woman. Well, some of them.
His eyes land on the mountain dwarf. And some more than the others. Well, I'd best set a positive tone for our interactions, or this trip will be unpleaseant at best.

Approaching Graeme, Heinrich salutes, placing his right fist over his heart palm inward, and then extending his arm straight in front of him, palm down*. "Herr Dwarf, our peoples wage war. But I am not my people, and you are not your people. I trust we can be civil to one another?"

*This is not the Roman salute a.k.a. the Nazi salute. I chose it for it's similarity, but the source is something else. Just wanted to be clear so as to avoid offending anyone. Geek kudos if anyone recognizes it. :smallwink:

[Minchandre]

(OOC: Is it...Klingon? Also, Torger, I think your "w" key is broken - read over one of your posts, and see the lack of w's. Or maybe "Newfies" just don't like the letter - in that case, substitute two v's [which is actually the origin of the letter]. P.S.: You know you're a dork when you use different types of brackets for nesting like in math!)

Dael
Dael was surprised but gratified by the quickness with which he was able to acquire passage on the boat, though neither surprised nor gratified by the greeting he received from the allegedly civilized dwarf. If I didn't know dwarves better, I might be inclined to think it a cultural issue - but the Firetusks are all courteous as anyone. Must just be an *******.

He boarded the boat quickly, eager to leave the rain, and briefly entertained the foolish idea of casting a cantrip to get warm; cantrip though it might be, wasting magic was just that - wasting magic, no matter the simplicity of the magic involved. The hold was cozy enough, if a little smelly; Dael was still learning that the hold world did not hold to the Underfaust's level of sanitation and ventilation. Still, the beds are fine, and Dael claimed the bunk above the Charduni's. Many continued to distrust the Slaver's Children, but Dael had always found them honest to a fault, even if their concept of humanity and ethical conduct didn't always line up with his own. Still, he knew that any of his belongings would be safe from theft or tampering while he slept, and it was unlikely he would be stabbed in the back while he dreamed.

A little put off by the poor reception he'd received so far, Dael elected to remain in bed, attempting to read his anatomy text by the poor light of the hold.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

Graeme already looks green under the gills just looking at the boat, and his normal bravado is lost as he approaches the ship with shakey legs. "It be Goran's will..." he wimpers as he approaches the gang plank. Practically crawling up the ramp, Graeme manages to get aboard.

He quickly goes beneath deck and sighs at first, for the floor, ceiling, and four walls appear to comfort him. However, the boat lists to and fro. Graeme turns several shades of color and sits in the corner with his head in his hands.


Heinrich

Approaching Graeme, Heinrich salutes, placing his right fist over his heart palm inward, and then extending his arm straight in front of him, palm down*. "Herr Dwarf, our peoples wage war. But I am not my people, and you are not your people. I trust we can be civil to one another?"


With only one eye open, Graeme manages to look up. He manages to mumble, "Frankly I dinnae care if'n ye be Baron von Bigbritches if'n ye kin makes this floatin' coffin tae stop its rollin'." Graeme simply lays down on his side and tries his best to keep his breakfast down.

[WakkaWakka]

[OOC: that salute reminds me of the Oath of the Horatii, but it would be roman, then...]

Sean Farland

Quietly the halfling gets in the boat, drops his backpack by one of the bunks farther back - and falls down.
Wha... the floor is moving! Is it an earthquake - a seaquake?
But no one is making a big deal of that - shall those be the hazards the guy was talkin'about?
Giving a wide look at the quarters, there are many differnently affected by the seaquake - the loud dwarf seems at his wrost!
And there's no water in there - if he's not feeling right, he'll need some. Any halfling aunt will tell you the same.
Oh, right - there's no water in there, because there's so much around the ship!
And so Sean scuttles out of the passenger deck, looking for a bucket to fill.

The young man that giuded them to their quarters intercepts him almost at once... and understands the need for a bucket like it was a long-standing tradition!
"'tis for th'dwav, ain't it? 't's seasick. Givv'm th'bucket - t'will tak'care of'm" he said... sounded reasonable.
If only Sean could understand the strange look, the small laugh he got when he took a bit of water from overboard, and drank a long drink...
"Ack! It's - it's salty! How can we get real water around here? The dwarf will need it! Will this water work for... for seasick?"

[Azerian Kelimon]

((Despite what Ty says, I'm sure this'll snowball.))

Here it goes again. Better cut 'em short before it all snowballs.


Don't try to talk to him, they don't call him Mean Old Cranky Pants for nothing. It's just not worth it, he won't care 'bout what you do unless you show him you're worthy of it, Tiresias says, interrupting the conversation.

And by the way, Mr. Dwarf, you might want to start swaying to the opposite sides the ship sways, it should help stop your sickness. Or you could try to build something to stabilize the area around your bed, but I'm sure that's too much work for what it'll do.

[daggaz]

((Damn. Merrindel was going to cast invisibility or grease on the plank when that damned dwarf likely shoved past him to enter the ship, as he shoved past him in the cue for a ticket. I think that would have been rather funny, and well deserved..))

Stepping adroitly onboard, Irina in one hand, his cloak bundled up tightly under his chin in the other, Merrindel looks about the deck of their new home. Used to shorter sea voyages off his island home, the gentle rocking of the ship does not bother him in the slightest, his body swaying easily in tact with the motion, his feet always finding purchase.

A small vessel. It will rock more in the high seas. Worse yet, the close quarters. We are forced to share a near proximity to our shipmates.. Glancing at the dwarf from under his cowl, his smile is hidden from sight as he takes in the new, natural tone of Graeme's skin. Ha! That outta shut him up for a while. Still, there will be nowhere to hide...

Merrindel lets out a small sigh, giving Irina a comforting squeeze with his hand as he leads her across the deck.

How are you doing? Used to sea travel? We had better get under decks and find some lodging, before we are forced to sleep up here in the weather.

They head below decks together, finding a cramped, if not suitable cabin.

[fendrin]

Heinrich

Glaring a the interrupting human briefly, Heinrich continues talking with Graeme.
"My name is Heinrich of Sophia Golemmaker. I would offer some of my breakfast as a peace gesture, but I fear that would not be a good idea. I wish you well"

Turning away from the dwarf, he briefly glares at Tiresias again. Then he nimbly climbs into the nearest unoccupied upper bunk and sits there Ganjus-style. He unwraps his food and begins to eat. The scent of roasted meat and pungent cheese mix into the already odoriferous atmosphere.

How rude of that human to try to interpose himself in matters that have nothing to do with him.

He takes a swig from his bottle of watered wine. Hmm, much more water than wine. I paid too much for it. Still, it may be of some use.
"You, human." He calls to Tiresias. "Give this to our dwarven companion. It may help."

OOC: I've given up on a German accent. Every time I try to write that way it doesn't sound right. Well, that's what imagination is for, right?

Oh and as for the salute, the Klingon salute is very similar, and from the right universe... sort of. I actually drew it from the Terran Empire in the original Star Trek episode Mirror, Mirror which I saw a few weeks back, then saw a reference to when trying to look up a modern german salute (which I still haven't found...). It's very similar to the Roman salute, except that the Roman salute has the arm raised ~30 degrees, so the hand is higher above the shoulder.

[Azerian Kelimon]

Without looking away from the book, Tiresias smirks. Time to show his true colors, and also give this bossy man a lesson.

(In Draconic) Etrius, please go get that bottle. And could you use speech for a while?

(Also in Draconic. (Ironic, isn't it? Draconic is supposed to be a hard to learn language, yet even two of the familiars speak it.) Will use a D at the beginning to denote speaking in Draconic from now on.) Sure, boss! Just gimme a little time! The tiny psicrystal says in a high pitched voice, as he detaches from the armor and scurries across the floor, under the lower bed, up the wall, and grabs the bottle with a pair of legs.

(D) And by the way, I'd prefer it if you could be slightly more civil while talking to me. Trust me, that warning was for your good. Hmm... he muses as Etrius returns with the bottle and he picks it up and take a look. (D)Hmm...watered down cheap wine. This probably wouldn't be a good peace offering, even considering how our dwarven friend would probably like drinking even when nauseated. But let's let him decide, since he's going to drink it. (C for common) Would you like some wine? He says, as he slowly shakes the bottle. In any case, I'll buy you both a pair of drinks once we land, if that'll settle this. Would that be enough of an apology?

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Seeing the motion on the floor out of the corner of the eye, Gislana immediately thinks "rat", and is halfway to pulling out her sickle. When she sees the spider-like gem carrying a bottle over to the smirking man, she relaxes, but only a little. People have the strangest pets.

The man goes on in his hissing tongue, as men are wont to do, and she returns to her examination of the Knight's armour.

[fendrin]

Heinrich

As the psicrystal crawls onto his bunk, Heinrich picks it up and examines it for a few seconds.
This is an odd creature. It spoke, and seems intelligent. Similar to a mage's familiar, I suspect.

Putting the crystal creature back down on the mattress, he hands it the bottle.
"Strange noises. Was that supposed to be speech?"

As the human offers the bottle to the dwarf, he says "It's mostly water. It might help you."

He continues to eat his breakfast.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

Graeme continues to moan slightly as he lays on the floor. It is difficult to tell if he is aware of what is going on around him. When Heinrich's wine is swished under his nose, Graeme shies away from it like it is foul. "Oi - what ye tryin' tae do? Kill me? Nay a dwarf'd be caught dead drinkin' this elf pi$$." Graeme adds under his breath, "Most likely poison giv'n th' source." He then continues, "But tha' give me an idea."

The dwarf takes off his pack and a sloshing sound is heard. The pack is nearly as big as he is, and he bats away a tiny animal from within that looks like a long rat with strange facial markings that look like a black mask and splotches of similar color on his coat as well as its feet. "Not now, Haggis," Graeme scolds the creature, and it scampers up his arm and rests on his shoulder.

Graeme proceeds to unbuckle all manner of flaps and slides the rucksack's canvas and leather down a rune-marked keg! "Brings a tear tae yer eye, don't it," Graeme says wistfully as he sits and stares at the keg with what must be love in his eye. "Tha' thar be Dwarven Dark - th' finest brew tae touch yer tongue. A mug or three'll stop yon room from rockin'"

Producing a metal stein complete with etchings and lid, Graeme proceeds to remove the bung hole and pours himself a mug full. He downs it in several swallows, wiping the froth from his beard. He pours another and drinks that down the same way. He pours yet another, and slows down - taking a swig now and again as he speaks with a voice much stronger, "Ahh, now...what say we share a drink o' dark an' tell why we all be 'eadin' tae th' Isle - other than th' obvious reason being tha' ye cannae be wit'out ol' Graeme MacKelan fer too long 'fore yer 'eart starts tae ache'n?"

Graeme laughs heartily at his humor. "Since it be me own idear, I shall begin. Me brother is missin', an' Goran 'imself came tae me in a dream tae steer me tae yon islan'. Now, I kin tell by yer looks, ye may thinks 'tis th' drink tha' gave me th' vision, but a devout follower o' th' gods I be - so, I puts faith b'hind wha' th' Forger said." He holds out the stein for the next person to take and says, "So...who'll be next?"

[fendrin]

Heinrich

Hopping down from his bunk, Heinrich accepts a mug of ale from the Dwarf.
"I believe you had that dream."

He downs the mug quickly, but not as fast the dwarf did.
I think I'll stick to the wine, even if it is mostly water. I don't like to drink much as it is. Still, anything to ease the tensions. Especially because it seems we may be traveling together for awhile.

"Tell me more about this dream."

[Azerian Kelimon]

Normally, I wouldn't take such a strong drink, but in this case, I'll make an exception.

Tiresias walks to Heinrich, Etrius by his side. Taking the stein and returning to his bed, he produces an used waterskin, fills it with the Dwarven Dark, and gulps it down.

Tiresias Veklaim, at your service, Mr. Graeme, and herr...could I know your name, my friend? Like every one of us, I was visited by someone in my dreams, or in other words dream struck, in my case by my Weapon master, who passed away. It's been a while since I've last hit the roads, and never with such an odd quest...but I digress. This, he says as he points toward Etrius, is Etrius Pictus, my...familiar, of sorts.

(D)Hi, everyone! Do you know of any monsters to slay? Me and the boss can take them all, just bring them to us! He chimes in the speech.

We'll be spending the next five days together, unless someone decides to walk across the ocean. And speaking of which, what dream did you have, that brought you here? What about you, Herr Dark elf? he says, as he gives it back to him, Listening intently to learn more about his fellow guests.

[Minchandre]

Dael listens impassively to the folks around him, content to study the innermost workings of the human body in lieu of conversation. Still, he cannot help but to hear Tiresias' conversation - in Draconic no less! - and to look over at what it was he spoke with. He put down his book and turned to watch.

What it was, was a small, oddly crystalline construct, like nothing Dael had ever seen before. I wonder what one of the masters would make of it? The Animator's Society certainly creates golems, but never have I heard of a golem of crystal - or one so small, for that matter. Perhaps it is easier on a smaller scale? But he was doubtful as to the last; the theoretical underpinnings of animation were quite clear, and imbuing action in something that had never known it was almost as difficult for the small as the large: thus, why golems tended to be large.

This was something new entirely. That buffoon certainly bears watching.

When the ale came out, Dael continued looking, the joys of musculature giving way to the joys of people-watching.

The other man's comment about the construct being his, "Familiar, of sorts," simply earned him a stronger eye.

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

Having boarded the ship at his earlist convenience, Lucas found himself a room to set his shield and sword down at, given the lack of his other equipment. He also, in his lack of need for sleep, found himself standing in the mainroom below deck, out of the way. However, he stares, or as close to it as a helm mask can, at the Charduni before him. To her questions he responds, "I would rather not speak of it. Praytell, ask me more of something else."

Oh yeah... what do Charduni look like? Also, hello Toliudar!

[daggaz]

Merrindel sits in a bunk in the corner doing his best to read, and in attempting to ignore the other's conversations, unwillingly ends up following every detail. Soon he is rather captivated.

Some people have the most bizarre pets. And what in the world could that thing be?! That is truly an amazing construct, if it is indeed a construct...

When the dwarf begins his speech, he is pleasantly surprised, and immediately begins to wonder if he had perhaps underestimated the man. When he mentions the dream, Merrindel is shocked. The others say a few words passing the ale, some of them also mentioning this dream, when suddenly he says rather loudly for his quiet, feeble voice,

I dreamt of the Island as well..

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

Noticing that the dark elf didn't respond, Graeme figures to himself, Prob'ly some spy or assassin. Best be on yer guard. Haggis, his weasel familiar gets the empathic feeling about Heinrich as well and bares its teeth a bit.

However, Graeme answers, "I dinnae 'member much 'bout me dream - seein' th' Forger'll do tha' tae ye. Mayhap th' last thing this ol' dwarf recalls be tha' below th' floatin' isle be a scale with four arms, its eight pans greatly out of balance. I dinnae know what tha' means, but me maker says tae me.. 'Follew ye yer dreams, Lad, and in them will ye find all that ye deserve an' desire.' Unfortunately, a bit later I met Grislana thar, an' I dinnae tink tha' nary a soul deserve nor desire tha'," Graeme says with a wink.

[Torger]

Irina

Irina, the red-haired girl in the flamboyant clothes, sits on an upper bunk with her back against the wall, watching and listening for a while. They're all so... pompous... She thinks to herself, until the boat begins to move and they seem to come together over the Smelly Dwarf and his pony keg. Listening to the dreams with detached interest, she withdraws a well-used and apparently ancient lyre from her pack, and begins to idly pluck a tune, humming to herself.

11:00AM, Landsday of Enkilot, AV 150

Into the teeth of a gale, the Saucy Mare slips from the port, rolling even in the shelter of the harbourage. The sounds of the sailors running about and cursing on the deck can be heard, even in the cabin. The rain lashes hard against the portholes, and the seas can be seen to churn through them.

[Minchandre]

Dael

Dael listens to the dream discussion with interest, though he continues to hang back from it. So, he and I had very similar dreams...I wouldn't be surprised if we all had. I'm certain there is a significance here somewhere, but it escapes me...if only I had a Reader here with me!.

After a few minutes, though, another sound reaches his ears: that of an idly played lyre. Dael looks to the source: the pretty girl from the inn, and this time without whatever mean spirit had been her earlier companion. Taking advantage of the opportunity, he approached her perch, and waited for a lull in the music.

"I'd like to apologize if I bothered you earlier," he began in High Elven, "I can see now that the Dream Isle ship was not so well hidden I might not have found it without your help. So, I'd like to approach you now simply as a fellow traveler, and introduce myself again: I am Dael Ruther, Journeyman Necromancer." The words had scarcely left his mouth before he realized what he'd just admitted to.

Well, at least they'll have a hard time getting a pyre going in this weather.

Dael wasn't shouting, but wasn't speaking too softly either - anyone who speaks High Elven probably heard him, but might not have if they were otherwise occupied.

[fendrin]

Heinrich

"Heinrich. It is far more likely that the dreams all came from the same source, and are tailor-fitted to each of us."

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Hey, Hellfencer! Charduni are built much like standard dwarves, but with black skin and dark hair. They are not originally of this continent, having come as conquerors and stayed as staunch defenders in the War. Gislana is dressed in very simple, efficient splint mail, and her hair is cropped close. Picture a thick Russian accent.

The dwarf nods, clearly taking no offence from the knight's rebuff. Her voice is measured, almost pedantic.

That is as it shall be, then, sir. I have spent so much time among the Island Dwarves that my focus is always on the how, when I should properly be lookink at the why. That is a failink I will work on. Forgiff me.

My name is Gislana Vladimsova Trotska, and I am interested in you. What one feels without flesh. You are in many ways the perfect worker, but also the embodiment of the spirit bound to the world. What do you aspire to?

[Torger]

Irina

Sitting on the bunk, she finished her song and stopped playing when she saw the young man in the hat approaching. Setting aside the Lyre, she steeled herself for his approach.

Clearly, she was expecting some from of rancor or condescension, and seemed pleasantly surprised at his politeness. She leaned down, her chime belt jingling as she shifted, and was about to grasp his hand, when he informed her of his profession. Immediately, she straightened, and seems to consider things before giving him a brief, limp handshake.

I am Irina, Monseur Necromancer, of the Traveler Elves, as you have no doubt noticed. You are, then, from the Vale of No Return, what the humans call the Hollow Faust? Her aversion seems to be to the city, moreso than the profession, or to him, but she still retreats back up into her bunk, fixing him with an agate stare from her perch, daring him to continue.

[Minchandre]

Dael

Dael is pleasantly surprised by both her easier manner and her reaction to his inadvertent divulgance. He smiles, and continues, amiably, "I am, indeed. I am a Guildsman - one of the necromancers that manages the city. If you know about such things, I am a member of the Animators' Society." After a moment, his brow rumples in confusion, "'Vale of no Return' is an odd name; why do you call it that?"

[Torger]

Irina

She has pulled back into the half-shadow, her knees pulled up to her chest. One skilled at reading people might consider this guarded body language. Because none of our Caravans have ever returned from there. The tales abound of Tinker Elves disappearing in that mountain range, Seur. You have the single fortunate honour of speaking to a maiden who does not hold the citizens responsible for the crimes of the nation. Therefore, your origin alone is not enough to in my ire, but neither do I trust you.

She is very blunt in her statement, no trace of diplomacy of wordsmithing to soften the impact of her words. This is, indeed, how she feels, and she is taking pains to ensure he knows his stance with her.

[Minchandre]

Dael

Dael looks perplexed and disturbed by the woman's words.

"Well, I thank you for your attitude, and will work to earn your trust. I've been in the world only a handful of months, and twice already townsfolk have tried to burn me at the stake. I am fortunate that they didn't expect a necromancer to have any skills aside from raising the dead, but there were still not pleasant experiences."

His brow furrows even more; oddly, it makes him look younger, "I know that elves don't like the city, but...the Council certainly doesn't kill people. The mountain passes are dangerous, even with the patrols; not even patrols supplemented by the Untiring can cover the many miles of road near the Faust. It might be gorgons, or sutak, or even the Glivid -Autel..." he trails off, deep in thought. His face then loses its confusion and takes on a look of determination, "Well, miss, I can promise that if naught else comes of this voyage, I will investigate the matter when I return home."

[Torger]

Irina

She nods curtly, accepting his statement without comment, before resuming her playing, this time singing to her music, a love song (http://netrite.ca/obrien/Stuff/Sailor.mp3) involving the sea and the ocean. She closes her eyes as she plays and leans back, seemingly keeping rhythm to the rolling of the ship.

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

Lucas bows his helm a bit and extends a guantlet towards the dark skinned dwarf. "Until I find some answers, you may call me Madrigal," he adds. "As to what I aspire to..." he waves his hand around a bit, "is why I am on this voyage to begin with. One might say a vision quest." Lucas pauses for a moment and adds, "I am forgetting my manners; It is a pleasure you make your acquaintance. What brings you on this trip?"

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Sombrely, the dark dwarf takes the knight's hand.

Madrigal. A name full of delicacy and hope. I do look forward to knowing you better.

As for me...well, visions come in many shapes. I am seeking an answer to the identity and nature of a six-armed being I dreamed about. What can I say? The Revolution's time is not yet upon us.

She glances around the room, and shrugs.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

Graeme still sits and listens to the others' tales of a similar dream, "By Goran's Axe! 'Tis th' will o' th' gods." He refills the stein just as Irina begins to sing. Like the savage beast, the dwarf is lulled into a dreamy state by the mellifluent voice of the elven maiden. It is as if the room and the world around him does not exist, and only the beauty of the elf and her voice is there. Only when his stein overflows and spills upon his boots does Graeme come back to reality.

He chides himself, "Look it, ye - ye clumsy oaf." He puts the keg down and smiles as the ferret-like creature scampers down and begins to lap up the ale. "Thar ye go, Haggis. Waste nary a drop."

Graeme then gets up and stumbles a bit across the room towards Irina...

ooc:
[roll0]

in case needed:
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]

Edit:
bic: ...and is completely oblivious to noticing the necromancer. He says to the elven girl, "Tha' be th' most beautiful thing these ears 'ave e'er heard, lass. Th' gods 'ave giv'n ye th' voice o' th' angels. Please, grant this unworthy cur o' a dwarf th' treasure o' knowin' yer name so tha' I may tell th' gods tha' I heard yer song when I meet them."

[Azerian Kelimon]

Listen check:
[roll0].
If Tiresias hears what Irina says about Dael:
Hmm, a necromancer, from a distant land at that. Hmm...better keep an eye on him, you never know someone's intentions.


As Irina sings, Tiresias' face becomes grim. He slowly hums the tune of the song, as he listens to the chatter of the suddenly active guests.

(Speaking in very low voice. Low enough so as to warrant a lw Listen check, I'll let Torger set a value.) What I'd give for a voice...but alas, I have no wings, no home, and only cold steel to reach the top (bitter smile). (Resuming normal tone) How ironic. I have the songs, but no voice to sing. Back on the subject we were discussing, gentlemen, I believe there's a trap or trick on the island. It wouldn't make sense to send oniric visions to someone only to annoy them. I propose that, once we land, we keep a watchful eye, lest an ill fate befall us. Now, if you could wait for me a mnute... he says as he goes back to his bed. Searching around his sack, he pick three pieces of paper. Walking to the elven maiden, he approaches her, and after a quick bow says excuse me, miss, could I ask a favor from you? Forgive me for asking you this, milady, but your voice shook the hevaens with it's beauty, and if you could sing the song have here he says as he picks one of the pieces of paper with his right hand, I would be in your debt. Would you honour me by conceding me such a grace?


The song is Guns 'N Roses "Estranged". Given Ty's mood after listening her sing, I found it ironically appropiate. The only change is to substitute the bit where it says "old at heart but I'm only 28" with a 24.

[fendrin]

Heinrich

And they think I'm uncivilized. Weren't we having a conversation? Yeah, the music's good, but would it have killed them to finish the conversation before going to fawn over a pretty woman like dogs drooling over a slab of meat? It's disgusting, really. It's not like we were talking about some powerful being messing with our dreams, implying some sort of shared destiny... no, it wasn't anything important. Meat... yes, I have some breakfast left.

Mumbling a couple of words to himself in dark elven, he climbs back into his bunk and finishes his meal.
"Uncivilized louts."

[WakkaWakka]

After some other laughs from the mariner, the halfling comes back, with a bucketful of what on this ship passes for clean water - and stops, dreamstuck, as he enters the room again.
The beauty of the elven voice - it almost made him forget of the bucket. Almost, as is hard to forget of a bucket splashing you with cold water as the ship rolls.
The drunken dwarf, now seems at rest - but water could help settle him for good...
Getting nearby, with his small voice - and given his sea legs, some water too - he tries to get the dwarf's attention:
"Master dwarf... master dwarf - have some water - it will help with the seasick."

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

Try as he might to lift an eyebrow at the mention of a six-armed foe, Lucas realizes he's just staring again. "Six arms you say? Quite the adversary, I'd wager. What makes you intent on seeking it? Conquest? Perhaps just some answers?"
Taking a moment, Lucas looks around at the others in the room.

[Minchandre]

Dael

Dael accepts Irina's silence, and leans against a nearby bunk, listening to her sing and play. When Graeme comes over, he says nothing, but wonders if the dwarf realizes the irony of the situation. He certainly was a man given over to strong emotions.

As the odd magician with the small construct comes over, Dael continues to watch impassively, A collector of songs, eh? Hollowfaust has many songs. Well, that might be one way to befriend him..

[Darius]

Getting nearby, with his small voice - and given his sea legs, some water too - he tries to get the dwarf's attention:
"Master dwarf... master dwarf - have some water - it will help with the seasick."

Graeme MacKelan

After he is told the name of the singer (ooc: assuming he will be), Graeme bows his head and says, "Ye, 'ave honored me, Lady Irina."

He then will turn and look around for the source of the voice asking for a "Master Dwarf". When he finds the halfling at his side with a bucket of water, he replies, "Well, now, lad. Me thanks. Are ye th' porter? If'n ye are, ye sure makes a good one. What might Graeme MacKelan call ye, lad? An' do way wit' th' master part - Graeme 'ill do, jest fine." He takes the bucket from the halfling as he speaks and will walk with his arm around the halfling's shoulders as he walks with Sean and leads him back toward his gear (and keg).

[Torger]

Irina

Irina opens her eyes after she finishes, the last strains still ringing, and is taken somewhat aback by the now assembled audience. Not having expected it, she is somewhat flustered by the over-the-top attention from the unkempt Dwarf and the others. Gentlemen, thank you... I am Irina, and I... She seems lost for words, her common speech taking on the color of several different racial dialects as she stammers. Finally, she focuses on something as Tiersias hands her the parchment. Thank you, sir, but I cannot follow this. This notation is meaningless to me... She helplessly indicates the musical notation and hands it back to him.



Half-elven, thanks. Anyone from the south of the continent (Read: Dael) might have encountered or heard tell of the "Tinker Elves" -- bands of nomadic half- High Elves living it up, gypsy style. To the rest of you, half-elves are more like Metis (With a fada on the e), if you know what they are -- Half European settler, half native American; common in the prairies of Canada.

Also, Irina is a wrote musician (ie -- learned by ear; can't read music), and really more of a liability than a party member. Expect very little in the way of help from her.

So are we all having fun with the boat jaunt, or should I step things up?

[Darius]

Irina

Half-elven, thanks. Anyone from the south of the continent (Read: Dael) might have encountered or heard tell of the "Tinker Elves" -- bands of nomadic half- High Elves living it up, gypsy style.

To the rest of you, half-elves are more like Metis (With a fada on the e), if you know what they are -- Half European settler, half native American; common in the prairies of Canada.


Whoopsie - sorry about that.

I am sure that Graeme's somewhat cloistered life in the mountain where all of his learning has been from 'books', he would most likely mistake an elf for a half-elf much like anyone would mistake a Charundi for a Mountain dwarf because 'they all look alike' to the untrained eye.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

The Charduni smiles a bit at Madrigal's question.

Not conquest, darlink. One must strive to master oneself first, and that is a lifelonk challenge. This particular six-armed being seemed in my dream to be confoundink the gods, so I suppose that I am curious. I have been called confoundink myself from time to time, so I suppose there is a strange...connection to this beink.

She turns, catching the final strains of Irina's performance and bowing in polite appreciation. Then shifts back to Madrigal.

Forgive me. You mentioned a vision of your own. May I ask its nature?

[Azerian Kelimon]

It's okay, milady, thank you anyway, Tiresias says as he bows and returns to Heinrich, to resume conversation.

Hmm...how could I find someone else to sing the tune? There're no other singers around.

I could sing for you, master.

You, Etrius? I didn't know you could sing, he "says" with surprise.

I can, but only telepathically. Would you like me to have a go at it?

Of course, it'd be my pleasure.

Then, Etrius starts to sing telepathically. The song of despair and loss puts Tiresias in a meditative state, as he sits down again in the bed below the dark elf's.

Forgive me for leaving so abruptly, I needed someone to sing a song for me, and I found a person in the end. Could you pardon my breach in etiquette? I expect we will be able to finish our conversation without interruptions this time. Where were we when I left abruptly?

Daggaz's problem means we'll have to get a new member. D'you guys think we should fast forward, or stay here 'till we finish our conversations?

[WakkaWakka]

Smiling at the strangely expansive dwarf, the halfling's small voice goes on: "Nope, I'm no porter - just a worried passenger. I'm Sean, by name."
Stray thoughts, on how cute must the other passengers find the scene, distract him for a moment... ignoring those, he puts his arm round (part of) the dwarf, and follow his steps.

[Torger]

The rest of the day seems to pass rather amicably. The mainland disappears into the rain-lashed mists, and the rolling of the sea seems to increase, which most of you chalk up to being away from land.

Things seem fairly pleasant. One of the ship's crew enters with weighted bowls, utensils, and a fish chowder, as well as a couple of loaves of fresh-today bread. The meal is passable, if not decadent, and as you look out into the blackness of the portholes, things seem pleasant, though you notice light from neither the moon, nor the nameless orb.

As the ship sails on into the blackness, the sea seems to churn with more ferocity, and suddenly pitches at a sharp angle, tossing many from their bunks. The two mountain-kin Goliaths riding in the compartment blather to each other in their native tongue.

Above, on the deck, the sailors can be heard to be yelling in a myriad of tongues, cursing and screaming. The ship lurches again, with a great, ponderous creaking, and a beam along the side of your cabin lets go, allowing the sea spray and cold air into the room.

A third violent pitch sets the hanging oil lamp crashing against the sundered wall, spreading oily fire along the dampened planks. Through the howling wind and roaring waves, the savage, bestial cry of...something can be heard, before the ship seems to explode into a flurry of broken timber and scattered debris.

Everyone roll new characters.



I'm just messing with you. You don't need to roll new characters.

Each of you awake to find yourself on some gods-forsaken stretch of rocky beach. There is no sign of the Mare, but bodies seem to litter the water, along with floating supply crates and other flotsam. You hear the groaning of other survivors around you on the beach, beneath a steel-grey day. You can hear the wind, the cruel, capricious wind, still howling.

[fendrin]

Heinrich

(OOC: this part is BEFORE the shipwreck, of course)

I must be careful. It appears that some of these others were on good terms with the people shown in their dreams. They wil be resistant to my ideas. Oh, the power of wanting something to be true. So often it leads people to willfully blind themselves to reality.

"Logically, the dreams leading us to the island come from a single source. I believe the personalized content is fake. I doubt that whatever sent us those dreams went around to each of the people we saw and sent them into our dreams with a message. It is far more likely that whatever sent us those dreams pulled personal information from our minds and presented it to us to make the dreams more compelling. This could be a something wonderful or it could be a trap."

He eats the last of his food.

(OOC: Below this line is AFTER the shipwreck)

What was that??

Heinrich looks around, and immediately leaps into action pulling as many people form the water as he can. He notes that many of them ae obviously copses, but continues with his work anyway.
Corpses don't bother me, and there might be a a survivor among them.

[Azerian Kelimon]

Pre-Crash:

My thoughts precisely. I'm of the opinion that we've been contacted via dweomer. Still, we should go pay a visit to the one who sent that dream to us, if only to know why. I'm also of the opinion that we should keep an eye on our fellow guests, since some of them seem rather shady. but then again, neither one of us is exactly an example of unquestionable virtue and a role model for everyone, are we? Tiresias chuckles.


Mid-Crash: ((Just a little thing, won't be changing any of it.))


As the ship rocks wildly, Tiresias grabs hold of one of the turned bunks.

ETRIUS! LATCH ON THE ARMOR, QUICK!

What's happening, boss? Are we being attack-

I DON'T KNOW AND DON'T CARE! LATCH! NOW!

Noticing the urgency in his voice, the crystal scurries to him and attaches to his armor.


Post-Crash:

Aaagh, what has happened to me? I feel as if my bones were about to break. Groaning, Tiresias attempts to stand up, but decides to take a few moments to recover.

I don't know, boss, but didn't you hear a sort of scream before the ship collapsed? Tiresias sighs with relief. Etrius is still with him, at least.

Now that I think of it, I did. The ship didn't collapse alone, SOMETHING attacked it. But we'll think about that later, we need to find other survivors and get going. But before that...he opens his sack and backpack.

(Sigh of relief) Whew, the book and the songs are intact. Well, let's get going, buddy.


Looking around, he sees the bodies of the passengers, the dark elf and Mr. Graeme among them. Unsheathing his sword to prepare in case something else attacks, he walks towards the dark elf, as he sees him stand up. As he walks towards him, he says Thank gods, someone else is awake. Come with me, we need to wake up the other survivors.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

Pre-Crash

Graeme takes to liking Sean right away. The child-like visage and kind demeanor reminds the dwarf of times past. He converses and shares stories of dwarven accomplishments with those that wish to listen (and due to his volume, those that care not to, as well). He puts his bowl of the fish soup on the floor for Haggis and sticks with the bread (and his ale).

Eventually, Graeme will prop himself against his keg and put his pack on his lap, laying the large shield and sword across his lap. The ferret climbs atop and nestles itself on his broad chest beneath the braided beard of soon snoring dwarf.

During the Crash

Waking with a start, the dwarf at first doesn't seem to realize what is going on. "Hrm...wazzat? Earthquake! Get tae th' pillars, lads!" When he realizes where he is, Graeme says, "By the Corean's Forge, wha' be 'appenin'?" He picks up his shield and sword - strapping them both to his back and proclaims, "We're gonna die if'n we stay in this here floatin' coffin!" Haggis chatters from Graeme's shoulder and the dwarf rushes over to his keg and pack just as the boat is crushed.

After the Crash

Graeme's unconscious form sits atop the keg he has lashed himself to using his pack's straps. The tide has moored his craft deep into the sand. Haggis' wet form scampers around in the sand, sniffing the air and the bodies that wash ashore.

When he comes to, Graeme sputters and curses, "Goran's Axe! I cannae move! This cannae be th' Great Mountain, so ye ain't dead." He works himself free of his bonds and kisses the sand, "Ah, land. E'en tho' ye be sand an' salt, Graeme loves ye th' same." Haggis scampers to his master and the dwarf picks him up, consoling him, "Ah, ye be a sight fer these old eye, Haggis. Now, let'see where we are, an' who else be 'mong th' livin' "

When Graeme sees Heinrich milling about, he snorts and says, "Figures." Graeme then goes about looking to help save those he can and piles the others elsewhere which will soon turn to gull food. "Good tae see ye made it," Graeme says to Ty and stares at Heinrich when he says, "I wonder wha' caused th' crash?"

[Azerian Kelimon]

A beast attacked, I believe. Didn't see it, but it must have been a BIG thing, he says as he addresses the dwarf.

What happened to the Halfling you were talking to, by the way? He asks, remembering the young boy.

In any case, we need to try to wake up the survivors. Can you see anyone else?

[fendrin]

Heinrich

Heinrich pulls another corpse onto the beach, and sees that Graeme and Ty are up. "More bodies out there. I'm checking for survivors, but no luck yet."

With that he sets down the corpse and wades back out into the water.

[HellFencer]

Madgrial
(Pre crash)
Were he able to sigh, Lucas would, but it would seem fate would have the last laugh. "My quest... is about self-discovery, in more ways than I care to think about." A small chuckle echoes inside the suit.

(Post crash)
Rising from the sand, Lucas attempts to shake out the sand and water from inside his hollow shell, but it is to little avail. Seeing that someone is tending to those still on the beach, Lucas walks up the beach to get a better look at the surroundings. Once satisfied of the layout, he returns to see how many are still alive.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

During the crash:

Lurching to awareness, the priestess instinctively begins with a hasty prayer to Nemorga.

Lord, if this be my time, may my journey to you be swift.

The second lurch sends her tumbling from her bunk. From this vantage point, she quickly scans the cabin, and sees others preparing to abandon ship. Quickly stashing her armour and crossbow into a sack, she grabs her spear and glances around once more. If there are any of her cabin-mates still asleep, she gives them a quick nudge with the butt of her spear, and dashes topside.

Working underground is one thing. Trapped in a burning wooden box as it tumbles into the ocean is quite another.

Water. Nausea. And then more water. And a bit more water. These are Gislana's dominant experiences of the night. At some point, a kindly sailor helped her lash herself to the smaller of the masts, which worked fine until the mast came free of the rest of the ship and tumbled into the water. At one point she was SURE she'd seen a massive, dark shape glide past her in the water...but it was all so confused.

Post Crash:

Gislana tried to rise from her cramped and uncomfortable position, only to discover her left side pinned under the mast, on the beach. Glancing around, she saw other detritus from the wreck - some living - scattered on the sand and rock.

With a mighty push, Gislana managed to dislodge the chunk of mast enough to free herself, and then worked the water-swollen rope until she was able to free herself. She hauls her pathetic bundle of surviving worldly goods further up the beach to keep them from being swept away. She would like nothing more than to collapse on the beach until the sun baked away the rest of this wretched damp - but she was needed. Bad as she felt, there were others whose time had not yet come, but yet who would be suffering greatly from the crash.

Pulling open her pack, Gislana pulled out her healer's kit and unwrapped it to dry out the wet-but-not-sodden bandages. Taking her sickle along as a precaution, she began to head along the beach, checking bodies for signs of life and calling out in the common tongue for survivors.

Seeing Heinrich wading back into the water, she shouts out to him.

Hey! Found any other survivors, any injured?

[Minchandre]

Dael

Dael sleeps oddly well in the rocking wooden bucket that is a ship at sea. He is deep in a pleasant dream - a silky expanse of pale skin, hair in two shades of red sprayed across it - when he is tossed from his top bunk to the floor. The fall is painful, and it takes Dael a minute to get his bearings. By the time he does, though, a lantern has broken, and from there it's only a matter of shocked, confused minutes before the ship explodes.

Dael, having never encountered a body of water larger than a flooded city block, cannot swim. Desperately, he grabs at a piece of floating wood nearby, and finds that he is too heavy for it as it sinks immediately. He continues to struggle before another piece of debris knocks him on the back of the head.

He wakes, some time later, on a shore, his body being hauled by the dark elf from the Mare. He gives a heavy cough, and then another, before choking out, "Thank you, friend. What happened?" He then stands uneasily, and sends a quick mental query to Sapheral, who is apparently wet and miserable and concerned, but uninjured. Thank the gods for small mercies, at least.

[Azerian Kelimon]

As more and more people stand up and approach him, the dark elf, and Graeme, he decides to focus his mind on two things: The first, to see if the elven wizard, the red haired maiden, and the halfling survived the crash. The second one, to try to obtain supplies from the boxes that survived the crash.

The halfling is easily found, as the tide brings him to the beach. Rushing towards him, Ty shakes him as he mutters a wake up, man, wake up. This isn't time to take some beauty sleep.

The wizard and the maiden, however, aren't on sight. Lifting the halfling and carrying him on his back, he returns to the group, hand him to Graeme, and starts thinking about the next steps to take. Looks like most of us survived the crash, but the crew wasn't as lucky. We'll have to give them a burial if we can. Once we're done looking for survivors, we'll need to start salvaging supplies, we're a big group and need something to eat. And we better start now.

Exiting his meditative state, Ty decides to act, and shouts. EVERYONE, LISTEN UP! IT SEEMS AS IF MOST OF THE CREW PERISHED, AND THE SURVIVORS HAVE WASHED ON THE BEACH ALREADY! WE NEED TO GET SUPPLIES AND SET UP CAMP TO TEND THE WOUNDED! CAN ANYONE LEND A HAND WITH THAT?

[fendrin]

Heinrich

Heinrich shouts back to the Charduni. "I've got a surviver here! Come help him, there are still some more people out there!"

Smiling to the near-drowned man, he says "You are welcome, friend. I do not know what happened. I must go, there may be others."

With that he runs back into the water.

[Torger]

~8:00AM, The First Corday of Belot, AV 150

The first day of Belot, the Month of Death, seems to bloom with intense purpose. All around, the primarily human crew lies dead, twisted on the beach, or bobbing in the water. It is a grisly and downright macabre scene, searching through the bloated, blue corpses for your belongings or survivors.

As you comb the beachhead, you find that seven of you remain, hale and hearty, at least, as much as can be expected. Aside from assorted bruises and contusions, you seem to have escaped relatively unscathed.

Everyone roll me a spot check.

[WakkaWakka]

Sean
Gale... you're back... what? I should fan the make up? wha...
Slowly the halfling opens his eyes - muttering to the tall man shaking him, as he regains what little senses he's left:"I have no make up! I can't... what's happened? Where's the ship? Wounded? ... are you wounded? you're fine? oh-all right... am I?"
With a quick check revealing he's not wounded, but the fish found in his ear sure is, Sean is up and ready, if a bit wobbling...
when he notices the huge pile of the dead.
Google-eyed at its sheer magnitude and crudeness, he turns to Tiresias "How's that possible? And... and... has anyone else survivied? So many on the ship... and now...so few"

As the impact of reality sinks in, he moves on - not wanting to think too much of the drowned, and how everyone could have shared their fate - and helps out on the search for survivors...

[Azerian Kelimon]

It's no use, friend. We're all who remain. Everyone else is dead, apparently they didn't escape the crash. There's not a lot we can do here now, mostly obtain as many supplies as we can, and then get moving, Ty pessimistically proclaims. What me and the dark elf were discussing hit the nail right on the head. We've walked into a trap, and I have a gut feeling that we're going to fall for something much worse before this ends. What dangers could lurk in this island? What tricks and traps will we have to navigate our way through?

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

The lack of physical components helps Lucas stay on task, keeping an eye on everyone, and the beach in general. Seems quite odd that the entire crew died, and yet we all seem to live. I need to start watching everyone more carefully.

Seeing the Charduni help with the bodies prompts Lucas to walk over near her. "I would offer my help, but I'm afraid I would sink... again," he says to those within earshot.

I changed my text color, since that light blue sucked.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Gislana has responded to Heinrich's call, and helps drag the man ashore. As the process drags on, and it's revealed that only seven remain, she becomes grimmer and grimmer.

Most of the passengers remain, but none of the crew. Perhaps they stayed on board longer, and got separated. Time will tell.

Lucas's approach causes Gislana to straighten, dusting sand from her hands.

Better to have you safe on land for now, Madrigal. It is indeed an act of providence that even the less bouyant among us have made it ashore. Best not to tempt that. Are you in need of oil or other supplies after our collective dunking? Otherwise, I think it best that we try to get all of the crates and bodies up past the high tide mark for now, and we can start the process of salvage. From his shouting -

She gestures down the beach to where Ty and Sean are walking.

They may be scouting a location for a suitable shelter. Perhaps something with an overhang, or a stream nearby?

Edit: Swapping in Madrigal for Lucas.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

After helping with the survivors and those not as lucky, Graeme wipes sweat from his brow and looks over at Ty when he shouts orders. Normally, Graeme would tell the human to stick something in an uncomfortable place, but Graeme was too tired (and the human was correct).

The dwarf tiredly answers, "Oi - I 'ave th' gift o' healin' - tho' minor it be. If'n ye find someone who be needin' help, call fer ol' Graeme MacKelan. Otherwise, I'll be siftin' through th' wreckage lookin' fer food an' th' like. Dinnae worry, I'll save ye some o' what I find."

ooc:
[roll0]
[roll1]

[WakkaWakka]

Sean
Oh, right - we must be somewhere, after all...

"G... get moving? We should, but... do you have an idea of where we are? It's like we're in the middle of the sea, and around us there's only... well, only sea..."
Taking up what's left of his courage, the halfling stands :
"All right - let's see what's left of the ship, then..."

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

"Indeed, it is rather lucky I made it ashore, although I believe not needing air helps," he says, not finding the ability to smile. Something catches his eye, however, and distracts him from in-depth conversation. "Oil? Shouldn't be necessary, but if you have some it would be appreciated. Excuse me a moment."

With a nod of his helm, Lucas walks to the large piece of hull where he could see something odd underneath. Kneeling, he attempts to see it more closely, and if necessary, tries to move the wreckage.

Just to be clear, Madrigal has NEVER given the name Lucas; Calling him it will just freak him out! :smallamused:

[Toliudar]

Gislana

My confusion, Hellfencer. Madrigal it is!

Gislana is about to head over to her pack.

It is not high grade oil, Darlink, but at the very least it will slow...

Noticing the direction of Madrigal's gaze, Gislana steps back, and lends her own strength to shifting the wreckage to check underneath.

That red spot? Too pale to be blood - at least, dwarf blood.

[Azerian Kelimon]

Seeing the dwarf and the knight stare at part of the hull, Ty approaches them to ask what's so interesting. What are you doing? Found something imp...his voice trail off, as he notices some red. A red that evokes memories, at that. Taking a few steps back, he shouts I'll do this. Stand back, and starts concentrating. As he focuses his mind, a smell emits from him. To him, a smell of burning wood, and ash...A smell which brings back the memory of a terrified child, of the idiocy and ignorance of man, of people lost who can never come back.

And then, Tiresias grows. He grows, and grows, to 10 feet, and a bit more. Then, now expanded, he proceeds to bend down, and attempts to pick up the hull and throw it away.

Char development time! Because of the "Olfactory" manifestation of Expansion, the power I'm using, a smell spreads up to 20', that smells differently for each person, and brings back a long lost memory. Abuse it, it's free.

Also, because of the expansion, I gained a +2 STR bonus and doubled weight capacity, which puts the max weight I can lift at 800 lb. Is it enough for picking the hull up and throwing it away?

[Torger]

8:00 AM, The First Corday of Belot

You find most of the crew dead or missing, perhaps if the Sea Witch smiles, washed up on some other beach. Gathering together what supplies you can, several of you decide to try and make your way toward shelter.

Several of your number, namely the Charduni, and man in Full-Plate, and the strange human with the crystalline spider, seem to be converging on a largish piece of wreckage, probably 10 feet on a side. The armoured man bends to poke at something, and one wonders how well his sense of touch works through those gaunlets, as a smell of something... familiar... wafts over each of you. Seemingly without warning or preamble, the human, Tiersias, seems to almost triple is size, and with ease casts aside the half-submerged wreckage, revealing a quartet of people -- The Captain, another crewman, the Forsaken Elf, and his half-elven comrade. They don't appear to be in the best of shape.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

That smell...am I having a stroke? Oh, I guess not.

One side, please!

Seeing the four crew members, Gislana slips past the mammoth man and begins to check for signs of life. If she finds any that are unconscious but still alive, she administers the healing blessings of Nemorga.

Heal check [roll0]

Converting 0-level spells to Cure Minor Wounds as necessary to stabilize them.

[Azerian Kelimon]

Seeing the people buried beneath the hull, Ty lets our a deafening shout. EVERYONE, COME HERE! WE'VE FOUND SURVIVORS! He bellows, as he approaches those who seem to be the last survivors of the crash. Seems like my hunch was correct. We're lucky that armored man and the dwarf noticed this people, or they would have perished. But now, we need to find a place to set camp and give them time to recover. He then proceeds to scream a question. Has anyone found a protected place? We need to set camp, this people need a safe place to rest.

[Minchandre]

Dael

Dael helps the others search for survivors - a depressing task, but it helps that Dael is desensitized to dead bodies. Still, there is little to do until the Charduni and the man who is, inexplicably, still wearing his heavy plate, find someone. The cry goes out, and Dael runs over.

"Madame priestess, do you need any help? I am a fair hand at healing, particularly with the setting of broken bones." The calmness in Dael's voice is comes from hundreds of sessions at the Clinic, tending the wounds and accidents of Hollowfaust's citizens. Even still, however, he's seen few disasters of this magnitude; though his hands are steady, his legs tremble ever so slightly.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

The Charduni looks up at the enlarged man, a slightly pained expression on her face.

Must you be so loud, darlink? I believe that some of the crew already in Nemorga's embrace just heard you.

Smiling faintly through the concern, she returns to her work on the newly discovered refugees from the wreck.

[Azerian Kelimon]

Better be sure everyone hears me, madame. This is something important, and no great thing was hushed up and said in whispers, Ty says, as he shrinks back to his normal stature. And if the crew heard us, they might come back to complain because we've disturbed their sleep. Or maybe I can get the rescuees to wake up. But don't worry, I won't shout again, he says, as he sets off in search of some sheltered space.

I'm walking towards the highest point I can find, or towards any mass of trees. Any description of what I see will be greatly appreciated.

[fendrin]

Heinrich

Pulling the last corpse he can find in from the water, Heinrich walks over to the crowd of suvivors.
Neat trick that one pulled, getting big like that. Still, I prefer to not make myself a target.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

At the sound of the shouts, Graeme grabs his shield and sword and runs as fast as his stumpy legs can take him to where the others have gathered. As he approaches, he slows as he watches Ty grow in size and lifts part of the ship.

He joins the others and helps Gislana check the injured and will lend healing where needed.

[WakkaWakka]

Sean
The bellow finds the halfling down headfirst in some nearby flotsam.
As he gets in a more coherent position, he finds the world kind of upside down...
A giant Tiresias? ... What is he doing to the ship - oh, wow... that got quite near... survivors! And badly hurt, too - maybe they'll need one more set of hands there...
As he steps closer, it looks like his clumsy cares aren't needed so badly - all the better for the survivors...

[Toliudar]

Gislana

As Graeme approaches to assist with the wounded, Gislana is about to raise a hand to brush him off, when she notes the skill and care with which he probes and tests. She smiles, just a little.

Huh. Perhaps not quite the irredeemable oaf after all.

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

Lucas appreciates the help, though he wishes it could have been offered before a ten foot man was next to him. As people begin to take care of those that have fallen, Lucas places his cold gauntlet upon Gislana's shoulder, nods to her when she looks, and walks away. I am no healer... not anymore.

Lucas takes several steps away from anyone, and looks down at the sand, wishing he could close his eyes. Just for a single moment of respite. But Fate again has the laugh at the shell of a man. Trying to shake it off his mind, Lucas pulls a large flail from his belongings, hefts it to a shoulder, and looks to the perimeter again.

[Torger]

~09:00AM, The First Corday of Belot, AV 150

The four people are in hard shape. The mate's head was pinned by the wreckage under the water when you found him, drowning him, probably in his sleep. The Captain seems to have a fractured skull, and the other two seem to be knocking at death's door.


Three CMW spells to stabilize the "survivors." The female has her arm broken in at least three places, and the main thing supporting the section of hull was Merrindel's legs. Plus, exposure, shock, and all that fun stuff.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

Watching Gislana at work, Graeme keeps quiet (for once). He pulls the dead man apart from the rest for the others to deal with saying, "This one be sailin' wit' th' gods." Graeme then says, "Gislana, ye do yer misguided group o' zealots right by yer work this morn if I may say so meself. Jest sos ye know, I am gonna let the cap'n's heed 'eal by its lonesome by envigoratin' 'is 'ealin' through Corean's mendin' ways."

Grasping the holy symbol from around his neck, Graeme chants the word of magic and lays his hand upon the captain and casts lesser vigor.

ooc: Lesser vigor will restore 11 hp over 11 rounds.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

The Charduni glances up at the other survivors clustered around. Her words are fast, analytical. As she speaks, she goes to each of the captain, the Forsaken and the half-elf, and suffuses each with a faint glow.

The mate is with Nemorga now. I think I can safe the captain and the others. Be ready to pull them out and get them to a fire for warmth, get them dried off. Gently!

Casting Cure Light Wounds on each of the three:

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

[Minchandre]

Dael

Dael worked feverishly to help the Charduni determine the energy of the 2p orbital of a carbon atom using the Hartree-Fock Self-Consistent Field Method, only to find that as r->0, the approximation broke down...

[/frustration]

Dael looks over the shoulders of the dwarves as they work. Never before had he felt so...useless. He'd spent hundreds of hours learning the workings of the intricate machine that was the human body; he'd spent days slaving over dissections, and then hundreds of hours in clinics helping the poor receive medical attention. And yet, all that was nothing in the face of a little faith and a prayer. A different man might have turned to religion in the situation; Dael turned to anger.

Still, necromancers are taught to control their emotions in Hollowfaust, and the young man was not an inherently angry person. He stood steadfast by the others' sides, offering what help they might wish, his frustration helping to focus his attentions on the task at hand.

But still, it hurt knowing that there was someone better than him at something.

[Azerian Kelimon]

Looking around for a sheltered spot, Ty runs out of luck. The beach is rather barren, and there isn't any spot to set camp at. Deciding something is better than nothing, he proceeds to set up his tent far from the water, and then returns to the group.


We're out of luck, people. There isn't any particularly safe place to set camp in, but I've set up my tent if that is of any help. Hmm...my knowledge about first aid is lacking, but I doubt leaving the wounded in water is a good idea. Maybe we can transport them to the tent using our bedrolls as stretchers?

[fendrin]

Heinrich

"There's nothing more I can do here. I'm going to go scout the area. Maybe I'll find a village or something. I'll check in by nightfall."

I'll head straight inland for a couple hours, then swing around to the north and follow the coast back. Then I'll repeat that path to the south. No telling whats out there, so I should be stealthy about it.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

After hearing the dark elf say he is going to leave, Graeme considers to himself, Most likely, 'e'll be signallin' 'is compatriots who did this. I cannae let 'im do tha'.

Graeme turns from his work, letting the healing continue on its own and says, "Methinks tha' be a bad idea, Heinrich. We should stick together. Tha' way if there be other nefarious types out there, we could face 'em together. Plus, mayhap th' cap'n knows where we be. Methinks it would be wise tae wait 'til 'e comes 'round."

[fendrin]

Heinrich

After all this and he still doesn't trust me? No surprise. Typical for his kind, really.

"Other? Take care with your accusations. If there are any nefarious types out there, we are much better off knowing what we are up against."

He turns his back on the dwarf and begins walking towards the center of the island.

Now we see how deep his prejudices run. If he attacks me... well, best be prepared, just in case.

Heinrich subtly draws his sap and conceals it in his hand.

[Azerian Kelimon]

STOP! Ty shouts as the dark elf walks away, having heard the conversation between him and Graeme, and rushing to reach him.

Are you foolish enough to believe whoever orchestrated our coming is going to let you scout this place at your leisure? It is clear everything up to now was a trap, and you want to risk more tricks? I thought you were a sensible man. None of us is going to leave alone, not when we are so few, and certainly not when some of us are wounded. We're all staying here, because we need all the available personnel to defend ourselves. You're all too valuable to go around risking your life just now. Once we have managed to settle, we might organize scouting parties, but for now, you're staying here, he says, as he glares at Graeme.

I just hope I don't have to contain him. Infighting and disenssion will only make us weaker, and we'll need all the strength we can get before we can get off the island.

[fendrin]

Heinrich

Heinrich stops and turns around to face Ty.

Not this fool again. Why does he think he knows everything?

"Do you know anything about warfare? Scouting?" Heinrich's voice is low and aggressive. He is not shouting, but can clearly be heard by the entire group. He is clearly frustrated and a little angry. "I was leading raiding parties long before you were born. I've forgotten more about stealth than you will ever know. Ask him" he points at Graeme with the hand not concealing the sap "how effective my people's techniques are. Now, there is nothing I can do to help here. I don't know the first thing about healing or wilderness survival. What I can do is go get some information. I can handle myself out there. A lone scout has a much better survival rate than a scout and an untrained companion. We need information. It is risky but the potential benefits outweigh the potential losses. So now, are you going to do something useful or get in the way of those who already are? I have my task, and I will perform it."

With that he resumes his march towards the interior of the island.

[Azerian Kelimon]

Very well. It's your neck, not mine, Ty mutters as the elf walks away, but he has other plans.

Etrius, change your color to gray and follow this man. We need to know how does his mission fare, and you can keep an eye on him.

Boss, why are we spying on him? I thought we were in the same team? The crystal "whispers", a touch of reproval in his voice.

And we are, and that's the reason I want to know where he goes. If he needs helps, we mightn't hear his screams, but you can inform me of it.

Okay, boss. I'll get goint, the crystal says, as it detaches and changes in color to a dull grey, also graying his "legs". As he departs in pursuit of the elf, Ty turns around and smirks.

So...I don't know much, do I? Let's see how much and how quick I can learn.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Gislana nods as she watches Graeme's waves of Corean healing wash over the surviving victims.

Very nice work, мистер Graeme. Perhaps the mountain folk have some value after all. It seems that this has stabilized these three.

She twists to look up at Dael.

You! Skinny boy. You and the halfling, take the Captain up to the edge of the beach. Find something soft to cushion his head. Maybe see if he'll take some water.

Glancing over at Ty, she decides that some energies are best kept busy.

Hey! Shouty man! You have a tent? Maybe you take one there? It would be good to get these people under shelter.

Edit: Missed that Ty had already set up his tent.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

Heinrich: "Other? Take care with your accusations. If there are any nefarious types out there, we are much better off knowing what we are up against."

Graeme is a bit shocked at Heinrich's outburst. He thinks to himself, Ahh, thar ye go, darkie - show 'em all yer true colors.

Graeme makes no motion to stop Heinrich. He only grunts out a scoffing snort of a laugh followed by, "Typical."

When Ty steps (or stomps in his bigness) in and Heinrich turns on him, too, Graeme can only smile. This be why we dwarves'll beat ye, darkie - evil turns on itself. When Heinrich mentions how effective the drow are at warfare and stalking, it is as if a dark cloud hovers over the dwarf. His once kind eyes darken again, his jaw sets firm, and his bushy eyebrows furrow to reflect his ire.

As Heinrich stalks off, Graeme puts a hand out to Ty to indicate he should not follow and says, "An' people think Graeme MacKelan is grumpy...tha' be th' reason why, lads...and lass. Dinnae follow 'im...but send yer pet if'n ye like. Methinks Heinrich knows more 'bout this 'ere situation than 'e be lettin' on. Ye may o' noticed, 'e avoided me questions las' night. Spyin' on us, 'e was. Now, 'e mos' likely needs tae report. Let 'im do it, but keeps a wary eye on 'im ye should do if'n ye be smart."

Graeme looks over at Gislana and says, "Gislana 'as them others stabilized. We should get 'em intae th' shade like was said b'fore. If'n ye can, puts me shield under one o' 'em while I gets me pack." He hustles back to retrieve his gear (and the keg) and returns to help get the three other survivors to a safer place.

[Azerian Kelimon]

At your service, Madame, I'll be pleased to help. Graeme, could you help me carry the injured to the tent? And my Arcanist friend, could you please light a fire at near the tent? The injured need warmth, Ty says as he walks back towards the injured. As he passes Graeme by he whispers a don't worry about the elf. He's being watched, and he's just a bitter man, most likely, and proceeds to gently lift the singing maiden and carry her to his tent.

[WakkaWakka]

Sean
Why, why, why do those tallies get so worked up about minimal things... we need to get back on our journey - it's strange, taken one by one, they are look like good fellas...

Shaking his head and rolling his eyes at the "situation" coming up, the halfling approaches the silent red head
"Oh, come on - let's get that capt'n out... we can't leave a decent man to marinate too long, can we?"

For sure it will take some time - one light man and half, moving an heavy one (with more than half to spare)...

[Torger]

Dusk, The First Corday of Belot

You spend most of the rest of the day drying out, establishing a beach-head, and generally attempting to regain your humanity, or your race's equivalent value. The three others seem to have suffered internal injuries, slowing their return to wakefulness, though Irina shows some signs of stirring as it begins to get duckish.

As the last rays of the sun begin to slide behind the cliff faces, Heinrich returns, slipping silently into the camp.


Do people know what I mean by Duckish, or is that an entirely Newfoundland turn of phrase?

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

Lucas stands in steadfast vigil, guarding the "camp" from intruders of any kind. Nothing is too small to look into. While his body does not tire of this, his mind wanders a little, trying to figure out where to go from here.

After a while, he is satisfied no one else is around, and decides to build a fire. Anyone looking close will easily notice the glimmer of light reflecting through Lucas' armor...

[fendrin]

Heinrich

As he approaches the camp, Heinrich abandons his stealth and walks plainly.
The fire would be a good place to congregate, though if I missed any watchers, our numbers will be evident. Of course, if there are any watchers, they've probably been able to discern our numbers already anyway.

Nodding to Madrigal, Heinrich walks over to the tent.
"If these three can be left alone for a bit, let's gather at the fire and I'll give my report. Then we can discuss what to do next."

Anyone with even the slightest ability to read people will notice that Heinrich is a good deal calmer than when he left.

[Azerian Kelimon]

Back again. Better prepare to help him answer any questions. But before that...Etrius, back to me, please.

Obediently, the psicrystal scurries to Ty and reattaches to his armor.

It's been a long time since I last saw you, buddy. Did you find anything interesting?


Not much, boss. If there's anything around this parts, it hides well, the crystal says as he starts relaying his experiences.

Good. Now, let's see what our friend has to say.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Rising from her vigil over the three injured, Gislana nods.

I believe that these three are restink normally now. We can meet and plan.

It is a relief that the elf has returned safely. I did not look forward to having to divide our attention with a search.

Huh. I wonder if whatever sent me the dream foresaw this as well.

[fendrin]

Heinrich

Nodding to Gislana, Heinrich walks back to the fire, where he takes his rapier, sheathe and all, off his belt and sits on the ground Ganjus-style, resting the sheathed sword across his lap.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

Graeme does his best to help the injured, but he knows that he is outclassed by Gislana. While he watches her administer to the fallen, an odd feeling comes over the dwarf - one that he hasn't felt before. He smiles down at her and continues to admire her skill. He says to her, "Gislana, if'n I fall, I hope tha' ye be thar tae takes care o' me." He rests his hand on her shoulder and smiles at her. Then, after a time, he realizes what he this looks like and removes his hand and clears his throat. "Methinks tha' Heinrich be back...we best see wha' 'e saw."

He leaves the tented area and joins the others. Taking out his keg, he pulls out his flagon and shares the dark brew with the party.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Given the extremity of the circumstances they all find themselves in, Gislana does little more than stiffen a bit when Graeme puts a hand on her shoulder, and she most emphatically does not slip the sickle from its hook at her belt and use it to sever his forearm. Instead, she smiles faintly, and tries to see the intent behind the gesture.

And the same goes for me to you, Graeme, should I not yet be prepared for Nemorga's arms. My thanks. And...yes, we should go check in.

She follows him out to meet up with the elf.

[WakkaWakka]

Sean
Rest... sleep... I could do with some - oh, there's someone coming back ... better be awake for that...
The halfling splashes himself with some (more) water, to keep the tiredness of the day at bay.
Enthusiasm regained, he turns to the red-head "volunteer" - "Dael, let's go and hear - scouts have always the best stories to share... and who knows, maybe more than stories"

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

The fire built, Lucas takes a seat and looks around at those by the fire. It doesn't take much to notice the tension between Graeme and Gislana, even for the slight moment it happens. Afterall, his mind no longer tied down by the efforts of the flesh makes it easy to notice more.

"We should rest here tonight, gather our strength, and start scouting at dawn. We need to know what else is around here, and I imagine the wounded only getting worse on this beach." His words are deep and tinted with a metallic echo as he has still not removed a single piece of armor.

[fendrin]

Heinrich

When all of the survivors have come to the fire, Heinrich begins his report.

"Beyond the beach proper are dunes, then foothills, leading to a dense forest. I found an old path to the south of here. I followed it towards shore and found a dock, which appeared abandoned. There were no boats. The path also went into the forest, but I was unable to ascertain its destination and still make it back by nightfall. I did not see evidence of anything hostile, but there may be predators in the forest."

He pauses for a moment, then continues.

"It makes sense to rest here tonight. Tomorrow I think we should take the forest path and see where it leads us. Hopefully we will find some civilization."

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Nodding at Heinrich's words, Gislana looks around at the others.

That makes excellent sense. I shall work tonight to have the three patients mobile by morning.

After the conversation, she'll use her remaining spells to attempt to rouse the captain, elf and half-elf.

Cure Moderate Wounds for the captain - [roll0]
Cure Moderate Wounds for the half-elf woman - [roll1]
Cure Light Wounds for the Forsaken elf - [roll2]

[Torger]

Night, The First Corday of Belot

Despite Geilana's best efforts, Mirrendel and the captain remain unconscious. More luck is had, however, with Irina. For a brief moment, she fluttered into awareness, mumbling something incoherent, and then fell into unconsciousness once more. It is the studied opinion of the Healers that she is out of the proverbial woods.

The other two are more worrisome. Perfectly circular bruises covered various parts of their bodies, and both still ran fevers. They would soon need better shelter than this, if they were to survive.

The night passed rather uneventfully, though both moons were waning, leading an air of sinister darkness to the land, and the wind did not seem to die down. However this, too, passed with the rising of the sun.

Dawn brought a cool, clear, cloudless morning, with only the barest hint of a breeze blowing off the ocean.

[fendrin]

Heinrich

Up since before dawn, Heinrich sits by the ashes of the fire, slowly dragging a whetstone along the length of his rapier. Holding it up, he sees the first faint rays of the sun glisten off of it's razor sharp edge. Smiling with satisfaction, he sheathes it pulls out his handaxe, sharpening it with the deliberation of a master craftsman.

When that task is complete, he hangs the sword and axe on his belt, positions his quiver on his shoulder, straps his shield to his back, and strings his bow.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

Graeme listens to the report and adds nothing, for it is obvious to him that nothing needs to be added. Instead, he expends the rest of his divine spells on the patients by converting all of them to healing. Before he retires, he says, "We should use some o' tha' wreckage fer some litters. Mayhap those on watch kin gather yon bigger pieces tha' we dinnae use fur kindlin'." He sleeps in his armor and doesn't even consider to join any watch. Haggis nestles in his beard.


ooc: 3 cure minors and a cure light [roll0]



On the morrow, Graeme spends some time in quiet reflection and prayer. He then packs up his things and says, "I can pull one o' 'em."

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Come morning, Gislana checks in on the three unconscious folk, and tries to assess how they are faring. She then goes off to offer up her own prayers at the water's edge.

Trying to get a sense if they're going to be all right, or are in a static coma of some kind. [roll0] Heal check.

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

Lucas stands watch all night and morning long, until someone begins to stir. Once it seems everyone is awake, he makes sure all of his equipment is where it used to be, and stays quiet. I hope those two awaken soon...

[WakkaWakka]

Sean
Sean just crashes for the night on an almost-dry bedroll, on the beach, with the sound of the waves lulling the tired 'ling to sleep, in the warm night...

As the sun slowly wakes him up, he's rummaging again in the shipwreck - looking for something that could pass for breakfast - if only he could find his backpack... those few rations inside wouldn't be enough - but would be a start
Search roll... [roll0] (I don't even know why I bother...)

Abandoned the search (or found the almost useless rations to divide among way too many hungry shipwrecks...), he'll be ready for the day - to follow the scout's steps!

[Azerian Kelimon]

Hmmm....where am I? Ah, yes the beach and the crash, Ty thinks as he struggles to remember the recent events. Well, time to rise and shine, he murmurs to himself as he dons his armor, sheathes his sword, and awakens the power of his mind. Just as he is about to leave his tent, he remembers the most important part of his preparations. Etrius, wake up. It's a new day and we better get going.

New day? Let me sleep a little longer, boss, The crystal grumbles as it grows it's legs and ataches itself to his armor.

Exiting his tent, Ty discovers most of the camp already awake and ready. Approaching the dark elf, he gently taps his shoulder.

I would like to apologize for my brusqueness yesterday. I should have had some manners, but it was a dangerous situation and I was busy with the wounded. Would you accept a duel to warm up and prepare for the day? he says as he prepares to ask a question. And by the way, you never told me your name. Could I have the pleasure of learning it?

[fendrin]

Heinrich

"Actually, I did tell you, back on the boat. You just weren't listening."
He shakes his head.
"I guess it doesn't really matter. My name is Heinrich of Sophia Golemmaker. As for a duel... perhaps you mean you want to spar? Where I come from a duel usually ends with one or both of the participants dead."
He glances up at the sun.
"We haven't much time, so instead of a full session, we should spar to the first touch. Friendly rules, of course."
He slings his bow across his back and straps on his shield.

Friendly rules: Subdual only, first round no movement or attacks.

[Azerian Kelimon]

I meant a fencing duel. Pity I don't have a rapier or thinblade, but I guess a longsword'll do. He says as he unsheathes his sword, and assumes a combat stance. But before we begin...(D) Etrius, drop down, please. Obediently, the psicrystal detaches and scurries away to the tent.

Now, let's begin.

I'm taking a total defense action. And I'm readying a move action to feint after parrying your first swing.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

After 'Har-umphing' at the display of bravado, Graeme watches the two intently in their sparring. Mayhap I kin learn th' secret o' th' darkie's ways so I kin 'elp th' cause, Graeme thinks to himself. He finds the whole thing to be a waste of energy, however.

[fendrin]

Heinrich

"I just sharpened my rapier to a razor's edge. It would not be safe in a friendly contest, and I don't want to dull the blade."
He pulls out his sap, which is little more than than a weighted boiled leather sack with a hilt made of the same.
"This will hurt, but it won't kill. At least, not in one hit. I'm sure you can see the logic in that."
He assumes a typical combat stance, shield front and sap-hand raised, the head of a the sap hanging over his shoulder.
"Come on, youngling. Take your best shot."

Readying a standard action to strike when you attack.
By the way, Feinting is a standard action, not a move action (unless you have Improved Feint). For that matter, readying is a standard action, so you can't use total defense and ready an action in the same round.

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

There is a slight creak of metal as Lucas looks over at the two about to duel. There would be a sigh of disdain here, were he able to make one. Instead, he settles on saying, "You should save your energy. We may be attacked at any time... its best to be ready for it."

[Azerian Kelimon]

Do not worry about that, friend. I doubt whoever brought us here would be careless enough to send something at us so soon. Plus, this will give us the chance to observe each other's combat style, which will help if we need to fight like a team, he says, without looking away from Heinrich. Then, he suddenly attempts a lunge at him, falling back after attempting the attack.

Doing a normal attack, but converting to nonlethal damage: (1d20+2)[20]
If it hits: [roll0]
Then using a move action to move 10' backwards. Normally, that'd be a bad idea, but since this duel will only last 'till the first hit, it's better to play hit 'n run.

[fendrin]

Heinrich

"Well, this won't really..."

As Ty lunges, Heinrich swings his sap in an arc towards Ty's extended arm.
Note, readied actions occur before the triggering action, so if this is a hit, Heinrich wins the 'duel'. If it misses, Ty wins, as a 20 will hit Heinrich.
[roll0]
[roll1] subdual


"...tell us all that much. That was a good, solid blow you hit me with, but I struck first. This contest proves nothing, however. I don't make a habit of facing off with my opponents."

Heinrich does a quick somersault and twists around behind Ty.

"I prefer to attack from here."

[Azerian Kelimon]

In fact, this isn't my favorite way of fighting either. I prefer weakening my opponents through attrition, or taking the size you saw when I lifted the ship and pressing the advantage of my reach factor. However, I can only do that a few times per day, so I prefer saving it. Hmm... he says as he sheathes his sword back. I think this has just given us a clue of how to work as a team. If we meet an enemy, I'll grow and do some ostentation, allowing you to hit the opponent unhindered as they concentrate on me, he says as he commands Etrius to return, and sits down. Now, how could we fit everyone else? he mutters in a meditative state.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

"Since ye likes tae strike from th' rear, t'would be easy fur me tae gets ye thar. Th' problem is, lads, tha' ye be thinkin' o' fightin' two legged folks. Wha' ol' Graeme be worried 'bout be fightin' some manner o' many legged creature th' likes I ne'er laid eyes upon b'fore. Mayhap ye 'aven't noticed, but we be stuck in some place no respectable dwarf would be caught dead in."

[fendrin]

Heinrich

"What, Graeme, are you expecting us to find a beast with a head on each end?"
He shrugs.
"We don't know what we are going to face. Until we know that we can only guess at a strategy."
He returns his sap to his belt and slings his shield on his back, readying his bow once again.

[Darius]

Heinrich

"What, Graeme, are you expecting us to find a beast with a head on each end?"


Graeme MacKelan

Not liking the sarcasm, Graeme thinks to himself, Nay, darkie, I met one o' 'em beasts wit' a 'ead on each end - it is black and pointy eared wit' one 'ead, and th' one on th' other be stuck up its arse. Graeme simply smiles at Heinrich enjoying his joke.


ooc: Darius turns the page to the next chapter.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Gislana comes to the others, having been checking on the three injured.

Well, assumink that you boys have stopped hitting each other with your sticks, we can talk. The woman, Irina, yes? She is slowly recovering. Sometimes she is well, sometimes she is not so well. She will not be walkink any long distance, not soon. The elf...

In a gauntleted hand, she carefully holds up a spiny tip.

The Forsaken one is forsaken by his luck too. Poison in this is still in his system. He is fightink well.

She speaks with a respectful surprise, nodding to Heinrich.

I had heard that you elves were weak, but his body, it is holdink on to life. It will remain to see if his mind can do the same.

She gestures over to the ship's captain.

He too is showink the round bruises of the poisoning creature, whatever kind it was. I am no expert on such sea-thinks. I think that his head injury is better, but the poison, and the drownink...I do not know.

She shrugs.

So, if we do not want to leave them here, we will need to carry. Girl is light, elf is light. Maybe Sean and I take Irina, Graeme and skinny-boy - what is your name? - take elf. Madrigal and Tiresias take captain, who has one or two rolls of salt pork in his ass, yes? And Mister Golemmaker, he starts out, makes sure nothing jumps on us, eh? What do you say?

[fendrin]

Heinrich

"Please, Madame Trotska, call me Heinrich. I have neither right nor desire to be called by my matronimic."

He looks at the forsaken elf.

"We elves do tend to be weaker in body than the other races, but I would ay our will to live is as strong as any. Perhaps more in the case of the forsaken. Those of their kind without a strong will to live have probably all perished by now."

He sighs.

"As much as I would prefer to be scouting, I'm afraid our little friend may be overburdened by carrying even the girl."

He turns his gaze to the halfling.

"Tell me, do you think you can handle the weight?"

[Azerian Kelimon]

Might I suggest something, madame? Me and our steely friend both have the strength to lift one of the wounded alone, maybe two, but we need someone to be at the front to hold off possible attacks. So I'll carry the elf and the minstrel with Sean's help, and we can improvise a bedroll to allow you and Graeme to carry the captain comfortably. Would that be a good idea? Ty suggests as he walks to his tent to fold it up.

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

"While I prefer to be the one in front, I will offer my services to carry someone. It matters not, as I have the strength," Lucas says, strapping his shield to his back. The tattered brown cloak he wears sways in the wind a little and he stoops down towards the bodies.

[fendrin]

Heinrich

"It's not enough to carry them, Thy need to be carried in such a way tha twill not aggravate their injuries. Tossing them over your shoulder like a sack of grain would probably not be a good idea."

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

"Heinrich is right, lads. These 'ere stripped saplings should be laid down o'er our bedrolls like this..." Graeme shows what he means as he speaks. "...an' then th' bedroll flipped o'er like this. See 'ow wit' th' flaps where th' injured weight'll keep it from slippin'. If'n we lash 'em wit' rope from th' boat, it'll be even sturdier. See?"

Graeme then looks at the patients and says, "If'n we put some rope ties to keep th' wounded in place, one o' ye could pull 'em behind ye by holdin' on 'ere and lettin' th' saplins drag behind ye. It'll leave a trail a blind kobold could follow, but tha' may not be too bad in case we wants tae find our way back 'ere."

[Azerian Kelimon]

Tiresias

Good idea. Hmm...perhaps we can prepare it to look as if some kind of ooze was moving? Most creatures find oozes uninteresting, so they won't follow us. Now, we need to determine WHO will drag them. Such a weight will make the carrier slow to react.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

The dwarf woman looks on with some guarded admiration at Graeme's skill at improvising travois.

I will draw one of them. I believe Madrigal has also been kind enough to offer. Do we have a third?

Gislana busies herself adapting a bedroll as Graeme has suggested.

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

Saying nothing, Lucas only nods the helm towards Gislana. "I will pull the captain, but I do not carry a bedroll. Might I borrow someone's?" he says, looking to those that have an extra.

[Darius]

Gislana

I will draw one of them. I believe Madrigal has also been kind enough to offer. Do we have a third?


Graeme MacKelan

"Tha' would be me." Graeme finishes the busy work with practiced ease.

[WakkaWakka]

Madrigal

Saying nothing, Lucas only nods the helm towards Gislana. "I will pull the captain, but I do not carry a bedroll. Might I borrow someone's?" he says, looking to those that have an extra.

The halfling finally reappears, hidden behind the almost completely dry (and only slightly sandy) bedroll he's carring - small sized, of course.
"You can use mine - it's not like I haven't slept under the sky before.
The fabric will be spread thinly... is it enough for one of the lighter woundeds, Graeme?"

[Darius]

"You can use mine - it's not like I haven't slept under the sky before.
The fabric will be spread thinly... is it enough for one of the lighter woundeds, Graeme?"

Graeme MacKellan

Graeme smiles and looks down at Sean and says, "Aye, lad, it would. Thank ye." A sparkle is in his eye as he looks at the halfling; to those wise in knowing relationships, it would seem that Graeme has taken quite a shine on the halfling. "'Elp me wit' this, would ye, son?"

[Torger]

Mid-Morning, The First Corday of Belot

After a fashion, you manage to assemble litters and secure the ailing to it. With Heinrich in the lead, you head out, making your way toward the path. It takes you the better part of the morning to make the journey to the trail.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Setting her litter gently down for a moment as they reach the trail, she looks with only a modicum of interest at the pathway.

Mister Go- Heinrich, darlink. Can you tell if there is much traffic on this trail, and if the ones who use it are people, horses, or perhaps somethink more...exotic?

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

Graeme chuckles a bit at Gislana's comment, "Ye ain't gonna find nothin' more exotic than us - I'd bet my beard on it. Even the gods 'ould ne'er dreamed this scenario." Graeme's chuckle is cut off as he realizes the folly in his words. "Mayhap th' gods did put us t'gether - if'n yer dreams ye 'ad are like any o' this, now 'ould be a right time tae speak up."

[fendrin]

Heinrich

"I am no tracker, but I will see what I can find. As for my dreams, they resemble yours, Graeme."

[roll0]

[WakkaWakka]

Sean

Graeme's words take their sweet time sinking in - but hit the halfling's worst button. His confusion is easy to spot, easier still to follow home, as he mumbles...
"If the gods put us here... well, they could have made without the shipwrecking, the dying, and most of all the almost-but-not-quite dying!"
It takes a few deep breaths, but he calms down - or at least tries to give the impression he has - "Oh, snap - maybe they did, and maybe not. We'll find out along with whatever crushed the ship, probably..."

[Torger]

Midday, The First Corday of Belot

As you break at midday and await the return og Heinrich, the sun comes from behind a cloud, adding a certain warmth to this otherwise forbidding and chill Spring day.

After a short wait, and seemingly without warning, Heinrich returns, being lead by a young human male, who is half-heartedly holding him at arrow-point, his bowstring not even drawn.

[fendrin]

Heinrich

Best disarm the situation before there's unnecessary bloodshed.

"Hey look what I found. Careful, he's a little skittish. Won't even tell me his name. Wants to take us to his Captain. I figure seeing we're looking for civilization, we might as well oblige him."

He is completely nonchalant about the arrow pointed at him.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Taking her cue from Heinrich, Gislana is careful not to move her hands close to the sickle at her side, but smiles at the young man.

That is soundink perfect to me as well. If there is one think I have discovered in the military, it's that where there are officers, there are real beds.

She carefully lifts the travois back into position, and gets ready to follow.

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

"Civilization seems a good route, but we know nothing of him nor of his people. I would advise being aware of your surroundings, but otherwise I agree to follow," Lucas says, hoping his point gets across. Having no need for rest, he stays at the ready to move.

"One other thing. Lad, do you mind putting that away?" he says, pointing at the bow and arrow.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

"Lead on, Lad. Any enemy o' th' dark elves be a friend o' mine," Graeme says with a wink to Heinrich.

[Torger]

You... You're not gonna resist, right? You'll come quietly into town? The young man looks terrible relieved and immediately stashes the bow. Good... I'm Jess. Jess Furrier, and I'm not really suer how I'm supposed to deal with outsiders, to be honest... You're the first ones I've ever met.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Ah. Heinrich was right. Kindness will serve much better than a blade here.

Gislana smiles at the boy.

You were brave and darink to come for all of us alone, Jess. I am Gislana. We have people who need rest, perhaps a skilled healer, if you have one.

She gestures down at the pretty elf in her makeshift stretcher.

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

Never met outsiders...? Lucas attempts to furl his brow, and in his internal anger tries to grit his teeth. He finds he does both equally well. Much to his chagrin, Lucas simply nods to the boy, adding only, "We are all reasonable people, so I see no reason to give you resistance, Jess. But do tell, how have you never met outsiders? Are you alone on this island?"

[Torger]

Jess seems rather intimidated by this ridiculously diverse grab-bag of genetic party favours he's stumbled upon, but tries to answer questions as he leads you all along the path. Patience might be able to help your injured. She's good with that kinda stuff, but I'd keep them away from her Dad, though... You can almost hear the idiotic grin on his face when he mentions Patience, and he seemed to be about to continue to profess her virtues when Madrigal questioned him. He seems less comfortable answering these questions. Island...? I don't know what you mean... The Sailors see others, I guess, but the Cap'n picks them. He doesn't like me very much, so I'm probably never gonna be a sailor...

[WakkaWakka]

Sean

Nice lad - and nice lady too, if half he says is true...
As they walk out, the halfling gets closer to him - he reminds of when he was younger, held tightly by the clan's bonds - "Why, you would like to be a sailor? For the little I've seen, it's a bleak life - and short, too..."

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

Lucas nods his helm in response to Jess' obvious nervousness. "Island, peninsula, it matters not; I mean only that it seems odd that your people would be so secluded, so as to never have met someone else." Suspecting something is amiss, Lucas continues his line of questions...

[fendrin]

Heinrich

"Come now, Madrigal, travel is not particularly safe, as we have just experienced. Stuck out on the far end of civilization, it's no real surprise that these people have no experience with outsiders. I bet the only visitors they get are from the next town over. Am I right, Jess? Except for the sailors..."

He gets quiet for a moment.

The sailors are pirates or raiders. That's the only reason that sailors would live in a remote place like this. Otherwise they would be in a port city of some sort, like the one we left from. There's no trade here, sailing here from a city would be a waste of time, money, and resources.

He turns to Graeme and says in mountain dwarven "I think the sailors are pirates or raiders. Make sure everyone knows, but be discrete. Don't panic the boy."

[Torger]

Obviously feeling more comfortable, the lad natters away, being fairly unguarded in his speech. Oh, there's no other town. Only Haven-Fara. And I have no real interest in being a sailor. I prefer the woods. I only want to get away. The Captain is... He stops short, having been walking 10 or so feet ahead of the group, and having turned a corner. His face is white, and his mouth moves with no sound coming out.

[Darius]

Heinrich

He turns to Graeme and says in mountain dwarven "I think the sailors are pirates or raiders. Make sure everyone knows, but be discrete. Don't panic the boy."


Graeme MacKelan

Graeme nods at Heinrich in understanding. He continues to busy himself with the patients. He says, "Gislana, kin ye take a looksee at this wound back here - methinks it be lookin' a bit septic."

When (and if) Gislana comes back, Graeme says quietly to her, "Dinnae let on tae what I be sayin' - act like ye are lookin' at th' injured." He says loudly, "Right thar. I dinnae think tha' be 'ealthy." He then resumes his whisperings, "Heinrich thinks tha' th' Cap'n be part o' a pirate crew. Dinnae let on tae this, but pass th' word when ye kin." He then straightens up and says, "I'll send ye some 'elp, Gislana."

He returns to where the others are located and says, "Ty and Sean - your expertise be needed by Gislana." Graeme will then stand between the boy and the information exchange to make sure that he doesn't interrupt.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Keeping a carefully stoney face - easier for her than most - Gislana bends over the elf with Graeme. She responds to his comments with a similarly elevated tone.

That is exactly what I am thinkink also, Graeme. We should get them to shelter.

She merely nods at his murmured words, and rises, ostensibly to adjust her armour but really to make eye contact with Sean and Ty.

Sean, your fine hands will be better for adjustink this dressink. Ty, you are stronk. I need to to hold him steady when Sean does this.

Once the men are near, she carries on an ongoing chat about sutures. Behind cover of Graeme, she murmurs in between instructions.

Heinrich thinks the sailors may be pirates. Be on guard, and tell the others.

Waiting for their acknowledgements, Gislana rises to noisily adjust her armour again, when she notices the boy's slack-jawed manner, and the futility of their charade. Stepping forward, she tries to see what has him so alarmed.

[fendrin]

Heinrich

Grabbing his bow and drawing an arrow, Heinrich dashes up to Jess and looks around the corner.

[Azerian Kelimon]

Tiresias

Having been silently reading his book since the group encountered the lad, Ty snaps back into reality when he falls silent. Looking in front and seeing him standing there, he wonders why he has stopped, when he sees Heinrich running to him, bow in hand. Unsheathing his sword, Ty runs to the boy and looks around the corner, as he starts concentrating, preparing to manifest his powers if something threatening is nearby.

[WakkaWakka]

Sean
At first the halfling is a bit taken aback - he's just a goodwilled klutz, when it comes to first aid... then, as the "bandagink" goes on, he understands.
What a life for the poor lad - he would have been a good halfling. Maybe when (and if) they get out of all this, he could come with them... if he wants to, of course.

Letting a nod carry to the dwarf his understanding, he then moves almost nonchalantly back into the folds of the group.
Everyone needs to know there's pirates around before arriving in town, but there's no hurry as such...
There's no hurry whatsoever, actually - why has the boy come to such a stop?

[Torger]

As you round the corner, you see, in the near distance, a small, ramshackle town of thatched buildings sitting in a large clearing, completely covered in a thick blanket of webbing. As if dropped from the sky, the giant web drapes over a tall, trident-shaped structure in the town's center, then out and over the town's perimeter buildings before stretching taught to the ground. With a strangled cry, Jess starts to run toward the webbed community.

[Azerian Kelimon]

Tiresias

STOP! STOP, YOU FOOL, UNLESS YOU WANT TO SHARE THE FATE OF YOUR TOWN! Ty says as he starts to run after the boy. as he does, he manifests his power, and enlarges himself. As he runs, he bellows HEINRICH! COVER MY BACK!

Trying to stop the boy. If necessary, I trip, then grapple, then hit him with nonlethal damage. Anything to stop him form being eaten/attacked/"entertained" by a children show hostess. Also, my PP reserve got refilled, right? if that is the case, I now have 8 PP.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

With a glance backward at her charges, Gislana offered up a prayer for Nemorga's patience in greeting them. She took up her spear and began trundling after Mr. Shouty.

[WakkaWakka]

Sean

Finally the halfling notices the state of the town - and for a moment just thinks of turning around and go away... but that would be useless anyway.
And that nice, arrow-pointing lad is going to get eaten in no time...

Remembering what Gale taught him, he goes through the first ritual invocation he knows, whispering calls to the free spirits of air to help him against the upcoming dangers.
He had forgotten the giddy sensation as the breezes form around him - it's been way, way too long, the forms say - and he knows, he had avoided calling on them since his friend went away...
Casting Entropic Ward...

Now, with the elementals'blessing, he starts forward, his short legs not helping any in keeping up with the rest of the group, not even with Gislana.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

When Graeme takes stock of the situation, the first thing that comes to mind is, Tha' darkie lied tae me tae make me look foolish warnin' th' others. But then the moment of blame washes over him when he sees Heinrich leap into action. It actually dawns on Graeme that perhaps his initial thoughts may be wrong...at least about Heinrich, that is.

"I cannae let tha' elf get all th' glory, Haggis...move...move...MOVE!" Graeme chases after Heinrich as best he can, drawing his huge sword and readying his shield as he goes.

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

Seeing the state of the town isn't alarming in the least to Lucas, as he has seen similar things in the past. However, the cry from the boy tends to make him think this is a trap. He merely shakes his helm when all the shouting occurs. There goes any sense of surprise we might have had.

Keeping stride with Gislana, Lucas pulls his shield onto his left arm, and clenches his flail. Keeping a hushed tone, he says to her, "Stay on your toes."

[fendrin]

Heinrich

We've got to get a gag for that boy...

Heinrich knocks and draws an arrow, and proceeds cautiously towards the town, ready to fire at the first sign of an attack.


move 30', ready an action to fire on an enemy.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

The rock-thick dwarf in splint armour glances up at Madrigal, expecting that his comment was a joke. Of course, his helmet gives her no further clue as to his intent. She manages to quietly wheeze.

You are tellink...a dwarf...in full armour...running...to stay on her toes?...Not...bloody...likely.

Nevertheless, she is somewhat comforted by his proximity, and by the glances she catches of her other new companions, also running forward.

[Torger]

Despite Tiersias's High-Handed, showy, and ultimately ineffectual attempts to stop, maim, disable, or otherwise impede Jess, the boy runs the full distance to the town, skidding to a halt at the base of the web, staring upward in horror.

As you approach, you can see outlandishly large spiders, with sooty red markings on the legs and thorax, crawling over the web. From within the shrouded township, the sounds of children crying and dogs barking is punctuated only by the occasional slamming of a door.

The boy's brain seems to have shorted out, and he stands there moving his mouth without sound for several minutes before shaking his head and resuming his near-frenzied approach. He starts pacing back and forth in front of the wall, talking to himself.

I have to get inside... I have to see if Mother is alright and Patience... She'll be ok, though... Her father knows spiders... How do I get in? He continues to mutter to himself for the next several minutes, seemingly trying to think through the situation in the face of his recent shock and panic.

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

Lucas wishes to say something about how his suit of armor doesn't slow him down any, but knows that this is not the time nor place for it. Instead, he focuses he attention towards the boy and the massive shroud of webbing across his town. Should nothing stop him, Lucas walks up behind the boy and begins looking all around.

[Azerian Kelimon]

JUST. GREAT. Someone on the village BETTER be in control of this spiders, or a lot of repairs will have to be made by the time I'm done with them, Ty mutters. He isn't really angry, but mostly annoyed at thinking of facing off with big spiders. Running towards the web, he looks around for some kind of stick, to test the stickiness of the web. As he does, he walks towards Jess, and taps his shoulder to draw his attention. Is there anyone who had some kind of interest in spiders or was trying some kind of enlargement method? We're probably going to have to clean the town of spiders, and any information we can get about what could be awaiting us inside will be nice, he says as he checks the stickiness of the web. By the way, forgive me for attempting to stop you, but running right into possible danger is not a bright idea.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

Panting as he continues his pursuit, Graeme joins the others near the boy. "I wonder if'n they'll taste good...th' spiders I mean. Any o' ye 'ave a bright idea? I bin told tha' webs be flammable. Methinks tha'll most likely burn down th' town. But, if'n ye be caught b'twix a rock an' a 'ard place..."

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Chugging in behind, Gislana stops at the edge of town. She slides her crossbow off of her shoulder, and loads it as quietly as possible.

Torger, any chance of getting a sense of how big "outlandishly" means? I immediately think of those fifty foot cockroaches from old creature flicks. And, of course, how many of them we can see - which probably translates into a small portion of the total present.

[fendrin]

Heinrich

"Ty, no! Don't tou-" He cuts himself off and swears in his native tongue.

He once again draws back the arrow he has nocked, ready to fire on the first spider to attack either his companions or the townsfolk.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

Graeme positions himself in a position to guard the boy and Heinrich from approach of a spider. He readies his shield and has his sword in hand.

ooc: Just editing here to say that Graeme is using this time to ready an action to attack or take a 5' step and attack a spider that comes within attacking range.

[Torger]

Jess, the young lad, starts to move toward an odd portion of the webbing just as Tieresias begins to prod at it with his stick. With a shrilling cry, five pony-sized spiders move toward the party, shooting vast nets of webbing.




Reflex saves all around.

[fendrin]

Heinrich

"Look out!"
He fires an arrow at the first spider, and ducks under the flying web.


OOC:
Heinrich had a readied attack:
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]

and the save against the webs:
[roll4]

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

"Stand strong everyone!" Lucas shouted. His voice echoed inside the suit and gave it all a slightly droned out, hollow sound.

[roll0]

[Toliudar]

Gislana

The spiders seek to seize control of all means of production! They must be consigned to the dustheap of history!

Gislana also fires off her crossbow at the first sign of danger, and does her best to avoid the webs being flung at her.

Oh boy! Dwarven cleric + Reflex save = Hilarity.

[roll0] Attack with crossbow
[roll1] Confirmation, if attack roll was 19-20
[roll2] Damage

[roll3] Reflex Save

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

"Tha's right, spider...come tae Graeme MacKelan o' th' Clan MacKelan, I 'ave a wee little present fer ye."


[roll0]

when appropriate:
Readied attack [roll1]
[roll2]

[Torger]

Everyone, save for Graeme and the boy, is enmeshed in the overlapping strands of the arachnid projectiles. Hot on the heels of the web onslaught, the spiders charge in, two of them taking projectiles in the thorax, but continuing to advance. They leap and strike, each to a different entangled target.




Lucas is hit for six points of damage, Heinrich is hit for four, Tiersias is hit for six points, and Gislana's armour manages to save her. One of the spiders takes a savage swing from Graeme's Claymore, and falters in his charge, turning to engage the more active threat, while emitting a keening wail to its compatriots.

For those who took damage, Fort Saves. please.

[fendrin]

Heinrich

Heinrich howls in pain as he feels the fangs pierce his skin, and the spider's venom burning as it courses through his bloodstream.
[roll0]

I've got to get out of this web to fight effectively!
Heinrich struggles to free himself from the web.
[roll1] (includes dex penalty from being entangled)

If he escapes the web, he will tumble 10' back away from the spider.
[roll2]

If he fails to escape, he will move instead of tumbling, and hope not to get hit by an AoO.

Either way, he will draw his rapier and ready his shield as he moves.

[Azerian Kelimon]

((OOC: HEY! I didn't save! Gimme damage IF I fail)).

Spiders...Why couldn't it be wolves or something that is not poisonous? Ty grumbles. As he does so, he concentrates and starts to grow in size. Now expanded, he prepares to engage the creatures.

As he is hit by the web, Ty struggles. It is hard to move, and he can see a spider coming towards him.

I spend 3 PP to get a 30 min.enlarge. I then proceed to stand still and wait for them to come.

Ref save: [roll0]

If I fail, fort save: [roll1]

If entangled, use an action to make a strength check: [roll2]

And repeat until I break free. Once I free myself, I attack the spider that is going to hit me with my sword, power attacking for 1: [roll3]

If I roll for crit: [roll4]

Damage: [roll5]

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Blast it! It'd take forever to get clear of these webs...without Nemorga's help.

Activating the special powers granted to her by Nemorga, Gislana steps back from the spider that attacked her, and the strands of web fall away. Dropping her now-expended crossbow for the moment, she slips her longspear off of its loop on her back, and thrusts it toward the spider.

Free action to activate the Travel Domain for the round. She takes a 5' step back from the spider that bit at her, draws her spear, and attacks, with one point of power attack:

[roll0] Attack
[roll1] Confirmation of crit, if above roll is a 20
[roll2] Damage

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

Having deftly dodged the webbing, Lucas swings his sword at the spider that attacked him.

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]

[Azerian Kelimon]

Gods damn this beasts! They're going to pay for this!

Feeling the searing pain of a bite, Ty struggles, trying to free himself. Luckily, Gislana, Graeme and Lucas are free from the webbing, and they seem capable of handling the spiders with ease. If only he could free himself and join the fray...

STR check: [roll0]

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

Laughing as his sword bites deep into spider flesh, Graeme snarls, "Tha' be for th' people o' this village, ye overgrown varmit!" He turns to the boy, "Stay behin' me, lad." He then swings his sword again in hopes of felling the wounded spider.

ooc: More depending on result of action to follow


[roll0]
[roll1]

[Darius]

ooc: Sorry for the double post...crit confirmation:


[roll0]
if successful = 14 damage


ic:
The dwarf bellows, "Put tha' in yer thorax an' smoke it!"

ooc:
Is there a map or something where I can see where to move Graeme? He will move to assist the others after felling the beast.

Dodge will be set on the nearest spider to him (AC = 20)

[Torger]

Two of the spiders fall under the vicious onslaught, taking arrows and sword strokes. As they fall, dismembered, bright green ichor sprays about their surroundings. As Tiersias breaks free from his bindings with a roar, the remaining trio, chittering in an agitated manner, spray the party once more with webbing before trying to retreat back to the web dome


Reflex saves again.

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

"Cowards! Stay and fight!" Lucas screamed through his helm, as he tried to avoid the webbing.

[roll0]

[fendrin]

Heinrich

By Nathalos' Iron Nuts, Not again!

[roll=1d20+7] [+2 if he escaped from the first set of webs]

Huh, been a while since I thought of that particular swear...

[OOC: SO, sis Heinrich successfully escape the first set of webs?]

[fendrin]

[OOC:sorry for the double post, I messed up that roll... :smallannoyed: ]
[roll0] [+2 if he escaped from the first set of webs]

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Reflex Save: [roll0]
If she fails, though, her Travel domain power automatically kicks in to negate the web.

With a charge action, currently AC 16, HP 35

On the assumption that Gislana dealt with the spider that bit at her last time, she lunges after the retreating trio, afraid that they might be snatching up trapped villagers and trying to escape. Her spear strikes out towards the spider closest to her.

Where do you think you are goink, insidious arthropod? No point trying to ensnare the pure of thought in your insidious world-wide-web-of-deceit!

Charge action, with 1 point of power attack.

[roll1] Attack
[roll2] Confirmation of crit, if above roll is a 20
[roll3]

[Azerian Kelimon]

Tiresias

Hah! That trick won't work again! Ty thinks as he attempts to evade the webbing. Then, he shouts: Use torches! We can burn down the webs with them!

Ref save: [roll0]

STR check if I'm entangled: [roll1]

[fendrin]

Heinrich
"Yeah, lets burn the town down. Great idea."
He says sarcastically, as he tries to free himself from the webbing he is still stuck in.

[roll0] [includes penalty for being entangled]

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan


[roll0]


"Hah! Run like yer cowardly maker ye sons-o'<blarg>" Graeme's curse gets cut short when he gets a mouthful of web. He works to break free of the webs that hold him fast.

ooc: That roll will be in the ooc forum

[Azerian Kelimon]

Tiresias

Ty rolls eyes. Please, Heinrich. I'm not suggesting we burn down ALL the webbing. Just the webs the spiders throw at US. It really ain't that hard to put out a small fire with dirt. Oh, Comrade, could you please help us get out of the web? We'll fare better against the spiders if the whole group can engage them, as much as I'd like to make sure they're not going to munch someone, he says, as he struggles to free himself.

[Torger]

The boy, Jess, skirts the enwebbed patches of ground and scouts the webbed bowl containing the town. Children can be heard screaming and crying, and a door creaks open and slams with rhythmic regularity. the chirruping of the wounded spiders can still be heard as Jess returns.

There's a hole over here. It looks like someone cut it. I'm going in.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Gislana calls back to the abruptly-cooperative Tiresias:

Try lighting a torch, darlink! I hear they work wonders. I'm going to make sure they don't eat the children.

[fendrin]

Heinrich

"Jess, wait. Let us go with you. You won't be much use to the town if you get yourself killed."

Heinrich moves to Graeme and does what he can to assist the dwarf in getting out of the webbing.

[Azerian Kelimon]

Tiresias


Such is the life of someone who is either under a permanent misfortune power or disaster prone. How the heck am I supposed to light a torch if I can only struggle against this webbing? Just a few lousy accidents and they get all nervous. But oh well. I guess that I just have to do a good job now and I will be back on a good respect level with them, Ty mutters as he slowly frees himself from the webbing. Once he has freed himself, he proceeds to walk to the hole, takes a torch out of his backpack, and proceeds to wait for the others, ready to go down first as soon as they are ready to go.

I do as many rerolls as necessary to free myself. Is the hole big enough for a Large humanoid?

And BTW, if I spend the 3 divine points, can I get a time regression to the time before the village was attacked? The power of the miracles was never specified, and a Time regression should not be a problem for a god.

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

Lucas attempted to free himself from the webbing, hearing Jess' plan. "Lad, wait for some help, or get us out of here. Don't just go it alone!" he says loudly.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

Graeme chops at the strands that hold him.

[roll0]

[Torger]

The boy waits impatiently while the others force their way out, and then leads them around to a hole someone obviously cut in the ebbing, about five feet to a side. Come on!

By the time you reach the hole of the webbing, the three who received bites from the spiders begin to feel sickened.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Having waited outside with Jess, standing nearby to make sure he does nothing foolish, Gislana is alarmed to see some poor colour in the look of some of her companions.

Sons of stone! Those spiders bit harder than I'd thought. Would anyone want me to be takink a look at their wounds? Sometimes, the right salt can help purge a poison, you know.

For anyone who lets her look at their injuries:

Heal check to help them through the poison: 1d20+6[/roll]
Everyone who asks to be examined also gets a cure minor wounds spell, regaining 1 point and closing any open wounds.

[fendrin]

Heinrich

"I am feeling... ill. It is a nasty bite, too."

The dark elf shows Gislana the two large puncture holes in his left leg, from which bright red blood flows, contrasting sharply with his night-dark skin.

"I would not be concerned with it, if I were not expecting to receive more in the near future."

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Fixing the heal check I tried to post previously, and botched. Torger, let me know if you want me to do individual checks:
[roll0]

[Torger]

Jess near dances with impatience as the others pull themselves free of the webbing and Gislana tends the injured, but he has more sense than to run off by himself.

Finally, when everyone is ready, he darts ahead of Heinrich, going in first. Come on! Doc Branson is this way! He sounds more concerned than he should as he leads you through the streets of Haven Fara.

As you wind through the houses that seem to be built pretty much wherever was convenient at the time, with no sense of design or planning, you note the occasional furtive people in groups of two or three darting between houses. You pass the large ship-***-dwelling in the middle of the town that supports the centre of the web dome, and as you go, the periodic slamming grows louder and louder until you can see an old man running out of his house, staring intently at the arachnids through a spyglass, and then running back inside, slamming the door behind him. Nailed to the door is a spider about the size of two fists, with the same red markings as the one above, and on a hanging sign above the door is a sign that reads, "Doc Branson, Herbalist." In crude and fading letters.

The sounds of the children crying seem to be coming from some of the barricaded houses you passed, but there seems to be little in the way of danger to them at the moment, arachnoid invasion aside. Jess stops short in front of the house, waiting for the rest of you to catch up.

[Darius]

Graeme MacKelan

Graeme finally chops his way free and says, "I'm wit' th' lad. Le's get goin'!" He then chases after the swift footed boy. Shield at the ready and sword in hand, Graeme hustles through the town. He keeps track of his path in the event that he has to return this way without getting lost. Noting the lack of order to the town, he harumphs out a, "Humans."

Sweating not from the heat (for his endure elements spell is active) but from the exercise, Graeme comes to a stop near the boy. He pants a bit as he asks, "So, this 'ere Branson - 'e some sorta expert on these varmits?" Graeme looks about and says, "Methinks this ain't been th' first time these 'ere critters came a callin', is it, Lad?"

[fendrin]

Hienrich

"What makes you say that, Graeme?" Heinrich says, sarcastically. He steps up to the door and knocks.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

As she wipes her hands after squeezing the last of the poisoned blood from a wound, Gislana looks around.

By Nemorga, the boy's already takink off again?

The dwarf woman slips her spear back onto its hook on her back, and takes up her crossbow again. Carefully loading it again, she follows after Jess and Graeme, hoping that they'd learn more about these eight-legged invaders.

[Torger]

Jess had just began addressing Graeme's comments when Heinrich pushed past and knocked on the door. There have always been a lot of spiders around here, but I've never seen so many in one place, nor have I seen them so big. Doc Branson just has a... thing for spiders. Obsessed with the bastards...

As he was talking to the Dwarf, the door opens, and a strikingly beautiful girl in a homespun gown opens the door Jess breaks off his commentary, and immediately moves to embrace the girl. Oh thank Corean... I was afraid that the Spiders had you...

I thought I'd never see you again...

The two stand, locked in embrace and muttering to eachother for a couple of minutes, blocking the door. Beyond them, a frail, toothless old man with flyaway hair can be seen scribbling on sheets of parchment that litter half of a desk. The other half is occupied by a terrarium containing, apparently, nothing.

After a minute, Jess comes to his senses. Oh! Patience, we were attacked by the spiders when e tried to enter, and some of the others were bitten, and they have an injured girl with them. Do you have any of that tonic left?

As they step apart, she curtsies somewhat awkwardly to the disparate group, having never even seen another race before, let alone To kinds of dwarf, two kinds of elf, and a giant man. She leads them past the muttering old man and into the house.

The front room is filled with jars, all labeled. On the wall around the desk, they seem to contain individual spiders, dead and preserved, while the opposite wall around the doorway she leads you through seems to contain pots of spices and herbs. Beyond the doorway is a kitchen, with a fire crackling merrily in the hearth.Please, Sit, all of you... You can place your sick friend in here... She leads the litter-bearers through another door into a bedroom that is sparsely furnished, though bearing a feminine touch.

[HellFencer]

Madrigal

Lucas stepped inside, following the girl, and took a careful look around. The sheer amount of spider paraphernalia. Ever stoic, Lucas scanned the room for signs of something out of place that may shed light on why the spiders attacked as they did.

[Toliudar]

Gislana

Hauling one of their two charges into the girl's bedroom and returning, Gislana smiles wearily. She addresses her concerns mostly to the old man.

I am beink glad of the help. I'm afraid I am a beink bit out of practice, but it looked like some kind of nerve poison, delivered by a sea-creature's spine, I am thinkink. You are able to help, yes?

And, do you know why the spiders are so interested in beink here?

[Darius]

Gislana



And, do you know why the spiders are so interested in beink here?

Graeme MacKelan

Graeme leans over and whispers loudly to Madrigal, "Most likely tae make this crack-pot their king." He nudges the armorman and snorts out a laugh.