The Madness of Men in a World of Monsters (D&D 5e IC)

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16/18 HP: 26/26 PP: 13 PIv: 14 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor Concentration: -- Birel grimaced at the cloud of spoors was released and decided to move to make sure she wasn't downwind of them as she casts forth another icy ray. Spoiler Show Moving. Ray of Frost: (1d20+6)[13] damage: (1d8)[2] if crit: (1d8)[6]

[purepolarpanzer]

On the Road to Lake Bo'Tel

The zombie absorbs a blow from Vargath, sinking to it's knees as his axe blade cuts off an arm at the shoulder. The dismembered hands still flexes and crawls at the half-orc, and the creature moans, spores spilling from it's mouth. Set's spear flashes in and goes directly through it's skull, mashing it's face to paste. Still the spores flow, and still the creatures continues to mock life. The zombie lurches towards Set as the hit becomes a combination, with his spear but cracking the remains of it's skull in. His last spear strike goes directly through the monster's torso, sending splinters of bone and rotting flesh out the creature's back. Impaled on the spear, Birel's ray glaciates the zombie just as it reaches out for Set one last time. Then the corpse explodes, the same torrent of spores flooding out over Set and Vargath, again swamping them in contagions and rotten breath.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Another DC 13 Save for our melee mashers. If you fail you take (2d8)[5] damage and contract the disease. Wear your mask, folks, you never know who'll you meet on the road.

[Awful]

Selissa Betula Wood Elf Scout Rogue AC: 16 HP: 31/31 PP: 16 Conditions: None Concentrating: -- Monsters fought. Selissa watched and fought to control the unease that writhed like eels in her guts. One of the abominations fell, bathing her companions in spores. The candy man monster fought the spider, and Selissa drew an arrow from her quiver and- -stopped. No, she thought, let them fight. If the candy man was weakened, had to expend more of his resources, that could only be a good thing when they met the witch and once again the claws came out. If the candy man died, the witch would be wroth. They would not have to go in that cursed mansion and watch the halfblood beg for his blood to have the teeth strained out of it; they could burn it from the outside and destroy what emerged smouldering from the ruins. They could leave, and never have to go into the den of shambling unliving beasts again.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Selissa makes sure she's out of spore range but otherwise does nothing.

[purepolarpanzer]

On the Road to Lake Bo'Tel

The spider leaps at Dr. Fixer and lands on his chest, sinking it's fangs into his shoulder. He let's out a pained grunt, punctuating it with a "Damn you!" As the venom is flowing through the good doctor's veins, he steps back, provoking the spider into attacking him again. He lifts his cane and manages the keep the fangs away. He reaches into his jacket again, removing a vial and pitching it at the spider. This time the flames are blue, the explosion is smaller, and the flames are less intense, but the effect on the spider is immediate. The arachnid falls over, rolls onto it's back, and begins kicking frantically at the air while shrieking. It's flailings continue as the deep blue flames envelope it and it's carapace begins to crackle.

Dr. Fixer watches the spider burn with angry eyes as the flames rise. As soon as the spider stops moving he reaches into his jacket, removing a patch of fabric the same shade as his coat. He places the patch on his coat and it seems to sink and meld, mending the holes from the spider's fangs. That done, he turns to face you with a smile on his face. "Well done, my friends! A bump in the road, for which I apologize. This area isn't as safe as it once was, according to the Lady!" He reaches into his coat and removes a vial the size of a generous inkwell. "Potent portable potions of perfect prescription, my friends! If any of you were wounded in the most physical of senses can have this if you wish. I only have one dose on me, but you can have a sample for FREE!"

Spoiler: Treasure

Show

There are many nasty things in the webs surrounding you. You spot a deer corpse wrapped completely from head to toe in silk a few yards into the forest. Leaves and twigs are suspended in great numbers, but there are a few oddities as well that appear to be worth investigating. It seems other people had had run ins with the webbing, but managed to escape the spider's grasp, leaving behind things on occasion. There is a doll, a purse containing twenty five gold pieces, a wilted flower, a man's set of pants, and a scroll case containing a scroll. Birel can identify that this is a scroll of illusory script.

[Amnestic]

Vargath Hubrecht Half-Orc Rune Knight Fighter AC: 19 HP: 32/38 PP: 12 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Conditions: Infected (Lycanthropy), Quirk (Fungophobia), -2 INT Concentrating: -- The moment the spore-zombie stops moving for good, Vargath turns away from it and puts distance between it and him. The spore vomit may not have pushed its way into his system but that didn't mean he wasn't still retching and reeling. He ignores the spider, trusting it to be in hand for the moment and spins around behind a tree, throwing up what little he has in his belly. It tasted about as bad going out as it had coming in, and there wasn't a lot of blood flowing freely to wash the taste of bile from his mouth and throat. The waterskin he drains over himself, washing away the worst of the stench. Proper cleaning would have to come later, but he could at least get rid of some of it now. By the time he's back to the group, Fixer's killed the giant arachnid. "I'll pass, thanks," he mutters, rejecting the offer of healing out of hand. He was already going to be exchanging something with the witch most likely, best not to incur more debt before they even start negotiations. If the spore zombie had anything of value, it wasn't going to be Vargath retrieving it. He gives the monstrosity a wide berth and averts his gaze at every opportunity, even going so far as to shut his eyes if they'd pass over it in the dark of the woods. His skin was crawling at the thought of it. With the scroll pocketed by Birel, Vargath tosses the purse to Set along with the trousers (too small for him anyway) and hands off the doll to Selissa. The flower he pockets. "We can sort out what's junk and not later," he mutters, already convinced that everything but the scroll and coinage was junk. "Don't want to stick around with..." He pauses, choking on the words as the thought of the spore zombie's image resurfaces in his mind, "with stuff that wants to kill us."

[Riggdgames]

Set Al-Sayyid Changeling Fighter/Hexblade AC: 17 HP: 34/34 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9 Conditions: Iumenta Pox (currently no symptoms) Concentration: -- In combination with the Mighty, Set tries to bring down the zombie with blow after blow, but it fights on even as it's being torn apart. Only a ray of ice from his North Star guides the way, finally freezing it in place and preventing it from fighting any further. Then it explodes. Noxious fumes and a flood of spores spill out over Set as he struggles to breathe. Turning away from the foul thing, Set only manages to take one step before his legs buckle and he falls to his knees. He pulls the shemagh down, coughing and spitting into the dirt as he braces himself for a moment. Thankfully, the catch in his throat passes, as does the momentary dizziness. Set rises, wiping his mouth as he rejoins the Three and their guide. "I'll pass, thanks." Set frowns, thinking for a moment that surely the Mighty was hurt worse than he'd been in that fight, but then Set catches himself. If it had been Set that had taken that first blow from the zombie, he might still be in the dirt. The Mighty was made differently. Brought back to reality, Set catches the purse and hefts it before affixing it to his belt opposite his own coin pouch. There wasn't a thought so much as an unconscious understanding. Whatever the sum, it could be split later or held for the others until a need arose. The pants he takes without comment, accepting the gift at face value and folding them carefully into his pack. We take such water as is offered, whether it be pants or potions. Set walks up to Dr. Fixer, nodding to the vial. "Your offer is most generous, and most welcome. I'm not hurt badly, but if the road is no longer safe, perhaps it's best not to wait until I am before I indulge your kindness. I thank you, Dr. Fixer," Set says, grabbing the potion and drinking its contents.

[purepolarpanzer]

On the Road to Lake Bo'Tel

Set tips the bottle back and immediately his tongue is awash is sugary sweetness. The potion is carbonated, fizzing and bubbling on his tongue, and it carries notes of flowers and botanicals along with an almost galling sweetness. The color of the liquid changes mid swig, going from a sky blue to a vibrant vermillion as Set pounds it down. There is a rush of magic in his body, and suddenly the aches and pains of the battle seems far away. His wounds seal, the pestilent pock marks from the spore attacks heal, and, if he is not mistaken, his hair grows an inch.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Set heals for 24 HP and may need a hair cut (or a changeling shapechange).

[Awful]

Selissa Betula Wood Elf Scout Rogue AC: 16 HP: 31/31 PP: 16 Conditions: None Concentrating: -- Selissa's thoughts were disturbed from their visions of simply burning the manor down when Vargath shoved an old doll into her hands, dirty and sticky with spiderweb. She gave it a look. Beady eyes looked back, unblinking. Selissa had not had a doll since she was an elfling at her mother's knee over seventy years ago. She did not like it. She gave Vargath a look. Someone more eloquent than the wood elf could describe it as dubious, or perhaps even withering.

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16/18 HP: 26/26 PP: 13 PIv: 14 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor Concentration: -- Birel reached up a hand to gesture along with telling Set it maybe wasn't a good idea to just drink that without anyone checking what it was.... but she was too late. She shakes her head and then begins trying to determine if the items that were found are magical. Spoiler Show Ritual casting Detect Magic as they walk. Let me know if any Arcana checks are required.

[purepolarpanzer]

On the Road to Lake Bo'Tel

As Birel handles the items, she is struck that each one tells the tale of a harrowing escape from the spider, assuming the owners are not cocooned somewhere in the nearby forest. A quick scan with detect magic reveals that only one of the items (beside the scroll) bears a magical signature. The doll, a simple toy made of refurbished grain sacks, buttons, yarn, and a raggedy piece of floral fabric for a dress, glows dully in her enhanced vision with a dark grey light that reminds Birel of the grave. She senses no curses or traps, but it does shine with necromantic light. She is unfamiliar with any spell used in it's creation, and thinks that it is likely no spell was used and the minor aura comes from some other unintended source, whether natural or supernatural she is not sure. Both Birel and Selissa note that when the doll is held in hand or very close to one's person they feel... relieved. Hopeful. Like a close friend is there to give comfort. Birel also notes that the magical aura becomes slightly stronger around females, as moving it closer to Vargath or Set makes the aura retreat slightly and holding it close to herself or the other elf in the party makes the aura bloom slightly.

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16/18 HP: 26/26 PP: 13 PIv: 14 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor Concentration: -- Birel thinks about this for a bit and then says to Selissa, "Well, surprisingly this one is magical. I think you should hold onto this for now. It likes us ladies more than it likes the boys, and I believe all it does is bring comfort." and hands the doll back to her.

[Riggdgames]

Set Al-Sayyid Changeling Fighter/Hexblade AC: 17 HP: 34/34 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9 Conditions: Iumenta Pox (currently no symptoms) Concentration: -- As Set gulps down the potion, the level of carbonation catches him by surprise and he almost gags, sputtering slightly as he downs the sickly-sweet concoction. While not unpleasant, it's unlike anything he's ever tasted or even felt in his mouth. If not for the immediate effect on his well-being, he might almost grow suspicious. Medicine was supposed to taste awful and cling to your throat like tar as you struggle to swallow it down. This didn't taste like medicine at all. And yet, where his eyes had itched and his throat burned from spores and bile, now Set felt only a renewed vigor. Even the dull ache from where the scorpion's pincers had closed around him earlier and his own fatigue from a long day seemed to be gone. "That was," Set begins, looking at the empty vial in his hands, "that was truly special, Dr. Fixer. Thank you. You're a man of your word. I feel like a fog has been lift--." Set feels a certain amount of regret at not having saved any, but before he can express that he reaches up with a gloved hand to pat the top of his head through his scarves. Catching himself, Set lowers his hand quickly, clearly distracted as he says, "thank you. Really, your generosity is...thanks." There's a moment where Set has to stop himself from immediately altering himself to remove the new growth on his head. The Candyman hadn't mentioned it, but he probably knew it would have that effect and it would be strange if it didn't happen to Set. No, he would leave it for now until he could reasonably shave it off again. Finally understanding what his North Star is doing, Set retrieves the trousers from his pack and approaches her. He's wary of the shield at her side, but he keeps her between it and him as he holds out the pants. "Do you mind? I hadn't considered whether the doll or anything else could be magical." Spoiler: OOC Show I'm pretty sure it's confirmed already that only the doll is magical, but just RPing it now that Set understands what Birel has been up to with her ritual magic.

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16/18 HP: 26/26 PP: 13 PIv: 14 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor Concentration: -- After examining them for a moment Birel shakes her head. "They're just pants."

[Awful]

Selissa Betula Wood Elf Scout Rogue AC: 16 HP: 31/31 PP: 16 Conditions: None Concentrating: -- "Hmm," was the non-comittal sound that the wood elf made in response. Selissa, handed back the doll, gave Birel another one of her doubtful gazes. She waited until the others had started going on ahead - then, when none could see her, tucked the doll into the small of her back at one of the bindings round her waist, hidden behind her enormous volume of green-hued hair.

[purepolarpanzer]

On the Road to Lake Bo'Tel

Dr. Fixer smiles at Set's thanks, grinning wide and seeming to flourish under the compliments. He gives his cane a spin before planting the butt into the dirt. "Shall we move on ladies and gents? We've got a ways to go yet, and it's late for some of us, I'm sure." Without waiting for a response, he turns and begins striding down the road, presumably having faith that you all will catch up.

An Hour Later, at the Lake Shore

The ground becomes more moist and damp as the party proceeds down the road, trees growing stumpier and more spread out as you seem to enter a wetland. The road also grows even more damaged and wet, with your boots splashing through puddles. If it is any mercy, the branches over the road thin, allowing bright moonlight to flood the path and illuminate your journey. It is this moonlight to reveals the end of the road, which seems to drop off directly into the grasses, reeds, and murk of the large lake that rises up before you. The water is coated in a thick layer of algae and slime, darker than the night around you, and with a slightly unsettling smell. Waiting at the end of the road, partially beached up on the last few feet of earth, is a large boat. It may have once been a grand affair, and there is still some sign of paint and a worn away figurehead to decorate it, but now it is scuffed, beaten up, and partially damaged, though it still appears to be water worthy. It has enough room for six people, and one seat is already in the occupied. A medium sized humanoid wearing a suit that is in the same shape as the boat stands near the front, bearing a massive paddle. He appears to be elven, around seven feet tall, and the best word to describe him is ancient. Wrinkles and age spots cross his face, which bears a distinctly neutral expression as you all approach. He wordlessly stands to his full height, towering over you all, and bows in a gesture of servile respect. "Hey there, old man!" Says Dr. Fixer. "Thanks for waiting for me! I know it's long past your bed time already, but we're almost home!" The good doctor turns to all of you. "One short trip across the pond and we've reached our destination!" He points with one hand, and across the lake you can all make out the dark shape of an island, rising out of the water like a looming figure, and those with sharp eyes can make out a small keep or castle rising even higher in the murk of the night. There are visible fires, both at the shore of the island and on the walls of the structure, though it is difficult to make out any details.

[Amnestic]

Vargath Hubrecht Half-Orc Rune Knight Fighter AC: 19 HP: 32/38 PP: 12 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Conditions: Infected (Lycanthropy), Quirk (Fungophobia), -2 INT Concentrating: -- Vargath peers into the moonlit lake, the black water below betraying little beyond the surface. His skin was crawling. Maybe the host would offer them a bath and some other cleaning services. He was in dire need of them. Despite the night's darkness he considers plunging himself into the lake to fully wash off the spores, but he had no idea what was lurking beneath the gently lapping lakewater. All manner of creature, big and small. Perhaps even worse than the stench that still clung to him. It...wouldn't hurt to ask at least. "Set and I aren't in a state to meet a noble host," he volunteers to Dr. Fixer. They were the most obviously unpleasant, but it wasn't like Selissa and Birel had a chance to clean up either beforehand. "Despite the hour, will we be able to clean up before meeting the Lady?" Part of him didn't want to impose, if it meant incurring a debt, but he needed rid of the revulsion that covered him. He was, as such, quite eager and ready to go. They'd come this far, a short boatride was hardly going to stop him now.

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16/18 HP: 26/26 PP: 13 PIv: 14 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor Concentration: -- Birel raises an eyebrow, wondering why Vargath asked Dr. Fixer and not her. Then with a mental shrug she walks over and says, "If you just want to be clean..." she doesn't finish the rest of the sentence as she points her wants at him and a little shower of twinkling stars passes over Vargath, cleaning all the filth and grime away. With a, physical this time, shrug she then turns to the others and does the same. Not Dr. Fixer though. He'll have to deign to ask. Spoiler Show Casting Prestidigitation on everyone.

[Amnestic]

Vargath Hubrecht Half-Orc Rune Knight Fighter AC: 19 HP: 32/38 PP: 12 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Conditions: Infected (Lycanthropy), Quirk (Fungophobia), -2 INT Concentrating: -- Vargath nods in thanks for Birel's magical clean. Certainly it's cleansed his armour, though his skin is still crawling. The spell cleansed only what he carried and wore, leaving his skin, his hair, his hands still thoroughly unpleasant. He scratches at his neck and chin with his nails, raking at the skin, suppressing the bile that mounted in his throat as his fingers brushed against his stained and sticky beard. He needs a thorough scrub, badly.

[purepolarpanzer]

At the Lake Shore

"The Lady has promised full accommodations at her home. Good food, hot baths, and the biggest library this side of the Vale. But... I must admit she is awful eager to see all of you. She isn't... the Lady... she isn't... like... other nobles." It takes you all a second to realize that for the first time since you've met him, Dr. Fixer is stuttering over his words. "She'll be waiting up to meet you... and she'll want at least a brief meeting immediately. But then you'll be free to enjoy her fantabulous home for the night, at the very least! Who knows, maybe longer?" He recovers quickly but for just a few seconds the merry go round broke down in Dr. Fixer's constant performance.

[Awful]

Selissa Betula Wood Elf Scout Rogue AC: 16 HP: 31/31 PP: 16 Conditions: None Concentrating: -- Selissa peered at the lake, the huge spindly figure in the boat, and very, very tenatively, took a step in. She'd never been on a boat before, and it was just as alarming to feel it rocking beneath her as she'd expected. She cast a wary green eye on the gigantic elf, looking for abnormalities beyond mere height. Forest's bones, but she did not want to share a boat with a living corpse. The failing of the Fixer's words quirked her attention. With her mouth a hard line, she spoke almost unwillingly to the alchemist creature. "Different how?" She paused, and then added bitingly, "Dead?"

[purepolarpanzer]

At the Lake Shore

"Dead? Now? No. She was. I mean. I know she was. I... assisted in her resurrection." He shudders and blinks. Once. Very slowly. And then he's back in good form. "So the Lady is as alive as you or me! And that's coming from a doctor and a verifiable shaman!" Dr. Fixer turns away from you all, then raises his arms into a T pose. "Right. Enough of that. Onward, friends, please enter the vehicle!"

Spoiler: Insight Checks-

Show

Spoiler: DC 5

Show

This odd man claims to have helped bring someone back from the dead. Huh...

Spoiler: DC 10

Show

This seems to be a real sore spot for Dr. Fixer. Might be best left alone.

Spoiler: DC 15

Show

From the way his speech changed and the behavior of Doctor, it as almost as if he has had a panic attack from this subject. There's something going on, and even this con man can't contain something about it.

Spoiler: DC 20

Show

This man worked towards and experienced the awesome power of a god first hand, and it has greatly affected him. And not entirely in a positive way, unfortunately. There is a wound there that may never heal..

Spoiler: Religion Checks-

Show

Spoiler: DC 5

Show

They say that gods can restore the dead to life.

Spoiler: DC 10

Show

Resurrection is possible. You may even know of someone who was ressurected. And no one who comes back from the dead wants to talk about it much.

Spoiler: DC 15

Show

Gods do not wantonly restore mortals to their form, healed and hardy, just as they were before death. Some resurrections are easier than others, and some fail. Worse, sometimes monsters come back instead.

Spoiler: DC 20

Show

Of the two religions of the Vale, Harumites can and have preformed ressurections several times, but they are very quiet and selective about it. It's rumored that several nobles and even royals had died at some point and been brought back. The Green Faith holds that there are a handful of paths to immortality, but has never had a confirmed ressurection in the Vale. Many practitioners would find the idea sacrilegious. When your time comes, your time comes, you see.

Spoiler: DC 25

Show

Bringing someone back from the dead can sometimes result in an undead, demon, daemon, or devil possession, especially if the God is spiteful for being asked to bring back someone so unworthy to them. It means they've condemned that soul to an unpleasant afterlife, and the beseechers with death at the hand of some abomination or fiend.

[Ramsus]

Birel Amastacia High Elf Wizard AC: 13/16/18 HP: 26/26 PP: 13 PIv: 14 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor Concentration: -- Birel raises an eyebrow at Dr. Fixer this time and questions, "As alive as us perhaps, but alive in the same way as us?"

[Riggdgames]

Set Al-Sayyid Changeling Fighter/Hexblade AC: 17 HP: 34/34 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9 Conditions: Iumenta Pox (currently no symptoms) Concentration: -- Thankful for the bright moonlight, Set picks his way through the increasingly damp terrain, following Dr. Fixer and the Three. As they arrive at the lake Set contents himself with sneaking glances at the boat-master rather than examining him full-on. Where the Candyman is bright and full of life, the ancient elf seems unsettlingly close to death's door. Set tries not to dwell on it, focusing on his companions instead. He's rewarded with a gift as his North Star launders the clothes on his back, pinpoints of light twinkling in the shadows around him. "Thank you Birel," Set says quietly, shaking his head in obvious gratitude as he examines his newly-whitened robes. The foul taste of fungus and spores linger in his mouth, but he was no longer breathing more through his shemagh. Of course, Dr. Fixer has a cure. Seemingly reading Set's mind, he offers food and a hot bath as soon as they reach the Lady's home. A strangeness settles over Dr. Fixer before Set can graciously accept the offer. The Candyman's never-ending song skips and falters as he tries to explain how his Lady is different from other nobility. And then her affliction becomes clear. There were tales in Set's homeland of those who clung to life past all reckoning or who's need was so great that they scratched and clawed their way back from A'aru, but such tales always ended in a reminder. Nothing is free. A'aru, the Field of Reeds, did not admit souls fused with chains. In Abydos it's common knowledge, though certainty is hard to come by. Those cursed with second-life find their souls bound to their body. When their second-time finally comes, body and soul decompose together. And that's only if they're lucky. Considerably less-common was the knowledge Set had heard whispered of in the Book of the Dead. Those who claw their way back to the world of the living sometimes return as monsters instead. Set can't hold back a shudder as he looks back at the Candyman, his features hardening. Surely the good doctor had known all too well what he'd done. No wonder he's so uncomfortable trying to explain his part in it. And then it suddenly dawns on Set with a shock that the other Three had all sensed this immediately on first meeting him. Of course. That's why his North Star treated him with such disdain. That's why Evergreen viewed him with such discomfort and why the Mighty wished to dismiss him entirely if they hadn't needed him. Their instincts were sharper than Set's, that was certain. They'd all seen through that cheery demeanor, so full of gifts and life, to see that Dr. Fixer had aided a soul-binding. "Why?" Set asks quietly, his voice lost behind Birel's question as he bites the inside of his cheek. He'd thought the Chief or the villagers had simply been mistaken, that further investigation would proove Moira had never died, whatever else she may have done. Now it was clear. She had, and Dr. Fixer had actually helped bring her back, binding her soul here. Binding her soul just like the Shadowkeeper had bound Set's. "Why?" Set asks louder, climbing aboard and brushing past the huge elf to confront the Candyman. "Why would you do that?" Set stares at him, incensed at the idea of a soulbind regardless of the evils Moira may have perpetrated in life. The thought of what else he might have brought back with her returns. Eyes narrowing, Set asks, "did anything else come back with her?"

[purepolarpanzer]

At the Lake Shore

Dr. Fixer wheels at Birel and Set's words, cheeks slightly red, frustration showing on his features. He puffs out his chest, tips his bowler hat at a downward angle that doesn't quite covering his eyes, and responds slowly and carefully. "The Lady is alive just like you and me. And she showed no signs of soul corruption, possession, or anything else nefarious. The ritual was preformed by a cleric who is experienced in these matters. To answer your question, my friend, I helped with the ritual for a considerable sum of money. Back then, that was all it took for me. But now I am a loyal and dedicated servant of Lady Moira Taggart Bo'Tel and I will suffer no slights to her honor and esteem. Capiche?" The giant boatman, for his part, raises an eyebrow at Set, and a close observer could see him squeeze his massive paddle with white knuckle intensity, though other than that he appears just as relaxed, languid, and disinterested as he was when you arrived.

[Amnestic]

Vargath Hubrecht Half-Orc Rune Knight Fighter AC: 19 HP: 32/38 PP: 12 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Conditions: Infected (Lycanthropy), Quirk (Fungophobia), -2 INT Concentrating: -- In truth Vargath had tuned the conversation out, focused more on his own internal problems, though the edge on words is enough to bring him back to reality, albeit temporarily. "I am sure Set didn't mean anything by it," he offers, attempting to defuse the tension before his chance of a cure was stolen away. "We're invited guests, we've got no cause or desire to offend. A cordial, polite meeting would be best for everyone." That, and they were in no real state to fight. He was tired, hungry, dirty, and infected. Let cooler heads prevail, at least until he could take a good bath.

[Awful]

Selissa Betula Wood Elf Scout Rogue AC: 16 HP: 31/31 PP: 16 Conditions: None Concentrating: -- Selissa bristled at the threatening air, and her hand hovered just over her sword - this close, best not to use the bow. In truth, she was a little disappointed by Vargath's sudden, late discovery of being reasonable. Violence now would be a good way to avoid having to talk to anyone in that accursed mansion. She made a sharp tch! sound to indicate her opinion of both Fixer and the Lady Moira Taggart Bo'Tel's honour and esteem, but otherwise said nothing.

[purepolarpanzer]

At the Lake Shore

As soon as everyone has stepped into the boat, despite their mood or inclination, the giant elf puts paddle to shore and pushes the boat out onto the lake. He begins to alternate strokes, first on the left side than on the right, moving the boat slowly across the water. The pace is glacial at first, but after a few minutes you all are moving at a decent clip. The only sounds to be heard are the sounds of the paddle breaking water and the lapping of the waves against the boat. Dr. Fixer, seemingly placated by Vargath's assurance, takes a seat on one of the benches of the boat. Reaching into his coat, which seems to have more pocket space than physically possible, and withdraws a plain white patch of fabric. Applying it to the hole in his coat from the spider bite, he spits on his finger and rubs the patch, which seamlessly melts into the cloth, changing to the appropriate color and fixing the hole instantaneously. This seems to improve his mood even more, and soon the good Doctor's smile has returned.

Once the boat is about halfway through it's journey, the small castle on the island becomes more visible. It shows obvious signs of disuse and decay, with broken stones littering the ground and obvious holes in the walls. There are no shadows of guardsmen on the walls, and other than the torches on the battlements one would easily mistake it for an abandoned ruin. Easily the size of the heart of Dam'ess, the castle looms larger and more imposing before you like a hulking stone demon in the night. It looks empty, and with that emptiness comes a hunger that chills your hearts.

But something more immediate interrupts your ruminations. The lake is murky with algae, weeds, and lily pads, but Vargath, Birel, and Selissa all spot something in the water coming close to your boat. Dr. Fixer is too fixated on the castle, and the butler doesn't seem to notice either, but making it's way through the water towards you on your right is a shimmering, glittering shadow, moving about twice as fast as your boat. Vargath's eyes are the sharpest for once, and he can make out a hunched figure wearing a crude but shining coat of shells, stones, glass, and beads woven together with strips of dried reeds gliding through the water. The water distorts the creature's features, but it has short, stunted legs and long, muscular arms easily twice the length of it's body. And it is coming closer, obviously attempting stealth.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Spoiler: Nature Checks

Show

Spoiler: DC 5

Show

What type of creature attempts stealth while wearing a glittering coat?

Spoiler: DC 10

Show

The long, disproportionate limbs sounds kind of like a troll.

Spoiler: DC 15

Show

The creature may be obscured, but it's coat gives away it's identity readily enough. Shellycoats were once trolls who were "adopted" by the Fey. While most of their body shrank from the Fey magic, their arms grew even longer than their former size. Like trolls, they regenerate unless exposed to acid or fire. They are sometimes referred to as bridge trolls, where they frequently make their homes. They are known for charging tolls of travelers, and if the toll is not met they use their freakish strength and fifteen foot reach to grapple, throw, strangle, or drown the offender.

Spoiler: DC 20

Show

Shellycoats never go anywhere without their coats of aquatic refuse. Though crude, they are beautiful in their own way, and often are magical. It is said that if you steal a shellycoat's garment it can no longer breath underwater. Shellycoats, unlike other Fey, have a greater idea of the value of things, though they can often be bribed by shiny baubles that they can add to their coats. Sunlight is the creature's greatest weakness, as it turns the Fey troll to stone very quickly.

[Amnestic]

Vargath Hubrecht Half-Orc Rune Knight Fighter AC: 19 HP: 32/38 PP: 12 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Conditions: Infected (Lycanthropy), Quirk (Fungophobia), -2 INT Concentrating: -- The hope of a noble's comforts ebb away as surely as the ripples left by the boatsmans oars at the castle comes into focus, though perhaps the vast domain has been neglected in favour of a smaller, less dilapidated area. Vargath's ears twitch, the hairs raising on the back of his neck. Something was approaching. Had he smelled it? Heard it? He wasn't sure, but his gut told him there was something else on or in the lake. His eyes scour the still waters, muddled only by their own efforts to cross, in search of the paranoia's prompt. He points with outstretched axe at the approaching creature. "Fixer," a rumbling with no title given. "Should we be concerned about that?"

[Riggdgames]

Set Al-Sayyid Changeling Fighter/Hexblade AC: 17 HP: 34/34 PP: 11 PIv: 12 PIs: 9 Conditions: Iumenta Pox (currently no symptoms) Concentration: -- "...But now I am a loyal and dedicated servant of Lady Moira Taggart Bo'Tel and I will suffer no slights to her honor and esteem. Capiche?" As Set stares back at the Candyman, seething silently, the Mighty's words settle over him and calm the hurricane, taking the wind completely out of his sails. The anger and indignation drain from him in an instant as he realizes what he's doing. Lashing out at Dr. Fixer, no matter what the man had done, could only hurt Vargath. Set bites the inside of his cheek and nods wordlessly, unable to bring himself to apologize as he turns away from the Candyman. As Set settles in for the ride, idly watching the water over the side of the boat, he realizes a part of the reason he's so upset. He'd misjudged the Candyman horribly. Just like Jemriah. Just like the others back when they'd first met at the Oaken Larder and he'd thought for a moment they were all in league with the Shadowkeeper. But it was worse now. Back then, he hadn't known a thing about the Three. Now, he should've known enough to trust their suspicions. Set pulls the coin from his pouch, looking at the ankh before flipping the coin over to look at the other side. The others had all seen the Candyman was scarab-touched, but Set was taken in by a few pretty words and songs. It hurt a bit, realizing again and again that he was so easily duped into playing the fool. Thankfully, a distraction keeps him from dwelling on his self-pity. "Fixer," a rumbling with no title given. "Should we be concerned about that?" Set frowns hard down at the coin before tucking it back in his pouch and looking off in the direction the Mighty points. "Where?" he asks, squinting hard into the moonlit night as he tries to follow where the others are looking.

[Awful]

Selissa Betula Wood Elf Scout Rogue AC: 16 HP: 31/31 PP: 16 Conditions: None Concentrating: -- Selissa was not enjoying the boat ride, and she kept glancing about as the baot moved, though one wouldn't know her discomfort to look at her as she easily swayed with the rock of the boat. She stepped up behind Set and thrust an arm over his shoulder so he could follow the path of her pointing wooden finger. "There," she said, her tone sharp but clear. "See?" Once she was satisfied he saw it, she ghosted backwards. "<Robber troll,>" she said in elvish, before she could remember the translation. "Shellycoat. A collector of baubles. Needs fire or acid for wounds to stick. Take the coat, it drowns. Maybe." She paused and then added, pointedly, "Turns to stone in sunlight."