Vyshael shifts over a little more and takes great advantage of his enlarged state, swinging the much heavier bastard sword at the hag. This time, he more than adjusted for the extra weight and effort, cutting through the water and the hag much better than before. He continues to use the horn as well, jabbing at her with it, but his reach was too far off due to connecting with his blade.
The cloud of bloody water surrounding the first shark finally stops growing; some nearby eels have even come to pick at the body
Neva thrashes about in the water, but makes no progress. Luckliy she can still reach Felgar from where she is. With that, she taps him again with the wand, closing some of the recently inflicted wounds.
Felgar is able to right himself in the water, bringing his heavy axe down on the creature. The blade is slowed just as Vyshael's but that only stops it so much. He is still able to cut another gash on the hag.
Rutter continues to get dangerously close to bleeding out, the water of the river not helping to staunch the flow. He will likely need assistance very soon.
Raliscar is ready once again with his heavy weapon, firing it at the hag. The bolt zips through the water and manages to stick hard in her thigh. The group sees the very real threat they pose cross her features. She looks rightfully concerned for her own safety.
With a spin and a thrust of all four webbed limbs, she zips away from the group. First out of Neva's sight, then further than the dwarves can see, and finally beyond the limits of Vyshael's elven sight. It seems she has been thoroughly routed.
No feelings of relief flooded over Neva. Not yet. As the hag swam away she thought only about Rutter's still, bleeding body. She twisted around in the water, trying to pull herself over.
She slid almost effortlessly up to the halfling, cradling him in one arm as she sang out a rapid, desperate prayer to Pharasma.
"Lady come to us, with succor and grace. Spare us your judgement that we may strive still in the world. Your power brings life, ever-renewed, a never-ending spiral..."
A powerful burst of healing energy surrounded Neva and her charges, closing wounds and even clearing the water a bit. But it was nonetheless tinged with a bit of the cleric's fear.
She looked to the others to make sure each was safe.
Raliscar shakes his fist at the hag as she darts out of sight, "Tha's right, ye wretched lump o' ugly! I told ya ye'd be next!" His countenance still dark with the heat of battle, he slips another bolt into the cradle of his crossbow before realizing Neva was in the midst of praying. Suddenly feeling bashful and rude, Raliscar goes quiet and swims slowly over to his cousin, arching his eyebrow as if to say "You alright?"
HP: 56/56
AC: 13 (13 T / 10 FF)
CMD: 19
F/R/W: +8/+9/+4
Ranger's Focus (+4/+4): [X] [ ]
Level 1 spells prepared (1+1): gravity bow [ ] [ ]
Necklace of Fireballs: 6d6 [ ] // 4d6 [X] [ ] // 2d6 [ ] [ ]
-Ongoing Effects-
Favored Terrain (underground/dungeon): +2 to Initiative, Perception, Stealth, & Survival for ALL party members
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Felgar, seriously wounded, nods grimly to his cousin, and he raises his fist in the air as well.
Aye, ya cur, we had ye, huh! Come back fer some more anytime, rotten crouch!
With the one burst of positive energy, Neva is able to close all of her and her allies' wounds, except for Rutter. At least he is conscious now, which is a marked improvement over the near death state he was in.
Neva quickly switched out her healing wands, using the less powerful one now that immediate danger seemed to have passed.
Five quick bursts of light came from the more slender wand, sinking into Rutter's flesh with a soothing light.
As Rutter's wounds mend under Neva's care, Raliscar looks around in the water, swimming idly until the halfling is back up to snuff. "So who's fer lookin' through this overblown dingy and gettin' outta these godsforsaken, no offense Neva, waters? I've had my fill o' fish an' uglies for the day."
Rutter flails about in a panic as he regains consciousness, until he realizes the party is still underwater. "Ugh, not used to waking up without the ground under my ass." He looks around for the hag's bleeding corpse. "Did y'all get the b&$@@?" He lets out a resigned, "Damn," when they tell him she swam off. "There better be something worthwhile on this wreck."
"Thanks, Neva. That should be good till I get a good night's rest."
"Yeah, Raliscar, let's get this checked out and get back on solid ground."
Vyshael shakes his head and says, "Thought about chasing her, but figured if I cornered her she might jump me and I've had about enough of being clawed at today."
He then nods, "Searching is a good idea."
Let's be checkin' out the boat, then.
Neva gave a nod and then made a guess.
"I think all the important people on a boat live at the back. So, if there was someone in charge of this thing (other than that Queen's Physician we found before) they'd probably be back there."
Re-adjusting the light on her hairpins, she made ready to move forward with the others.
Confused about their direction, Neva spun around a few times in the water.
"Wait. I think I'm turned around. Let's go to the bow."
Vyshael nods, "Let's. Hopefully, she's not lairing in there. "
"An' if she is and she comes back early she'll find 'erself dead! She's as ugly a thing as I ever saw but she didn't look so stupid as to come at us again after givin' us th' chance to patch up. I reckon we can look fer whatever it is we don't yet know we're lookin' for and be back on land before she starts thinkin' about circlin' back."
Swimming toward the front of the ship, the group notices that the front portion of the ship broke away and landed awkwardly here, revealing two splintered decks inside. Its bowsprit shattered and decks filled with debris, the vessel bears an ominous moniker along its fire-scarred hull: Direption.
The doors leading into the forecastle and galley here swing open in the current, their interiors wrecked and disordered. The small school of silt eels feasting on the remains of the dead shark emerged from this portion of the ship, and must have made their new home in its dark and cluttered interior.
Neva swam up beside Raliscar, anxious for his ruling on the eels. She patted him on the back, to help his memory.
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Raliscar knows enough about lurking predator types to know that the eels are distracted enough by the fresh shark kill to not currently be a nuisance. Once they are done, though, they may get territorial about their space being infringed upon. The difference being really based on how long you are there.
"Bah, those eels are too hungry and busy feastin' ta bother with us at the moment. We've a little time before they'll take notice of us and get uppity. Quick as ye like, the sooner we're done in there the sooner we're all dry again."
Neva held the loose and swinging doors aside so that Vyshael could more easily squeeze into the front of the ship.
"Cover my back in case those eels come back. Neva, will you bring the light, or lend me your hairpins?"
With a light source along, Rutter manages to make his way into the forecastle, and begins poking around.
Neva helped provide light into the bow, readying herself to move forward if Rutter reached the edge of the illumination.
A quick search of these areas reveals no evidence of food or supplies in the galley or personal goods in the forecastle. There seems to be nothing of interest amid the scattered pots, shattered barrels, and overturned bunks.
Felgar makes his way to the hold.
Neva went with Felgar, trying to keep everyone in the light.
Vyshael follows the others.
Raliscar swims back toward the hold as well, his crossbow at the ready should the hag foolishly return. "What is it we're even lookin' for? Somethin' wi' a big, waterproof label that says 'Source of Plague'?"
I be hopin' its somethin' like that, Cuz.
A yawning wound in the ship’s charred timbers allows murky water to flow easily through this debris-cluttered hold. Loose timbers, small fish, and dozens of identical boxes float eerily in the quiet darkness.
This is by far the largest portion of the ship, made up of two decks, which now serve as rooms with the deck floor acting as a wall between them. Stairwells allow passage between the two rooms, while near the aft portion a door leads further back into the ship's depths.
Raliscar nods toward the stairs and begins making his way through the murky, cluttered water for them. "I'd rather check here first in case there's a surprise waitin' behind tha' door."
Rutter joins the dwarfs in the hold and starts looking through the boxes there. If nothing stands out, he makes his way to the door at the end.
He motions for Neva to follow with the light and then he opens the door and goes inside.
As Rutter makes straight for the door instead, Raliscar slows to a stop. "Or not," he grumbles. He churns the water around him as he adjusts his course to face the door, muttering something darkly under his breath.
Vyshael chuckles at Raliscar's grumbling, "I think we just all want to be done with this and back on dry land." He shrugs and follows the dwarf, keeping his eyes open for a source of the plague.. or the return of the hag.
"Yes, I'll be there in a second. My hair is coming loose in this water, and my pins are falling out!"
Rutter looks at all the boxes in the hold, floating around, and finds them to be eerily identical. Not eery as in 'how odd they are all made by the same craftsman' but as in 'they are all small metal boxes engraved with numerous skulls'. A quick glance in many of them reveals mostly nothing, though some of them hold the remnants of either old flesh or pieces of dead rat.
Opening the door at the end of the hold reveals a smaller space, but not by too much. Inside, several bent metal bed frames and glass-paned cabinets lie shattered across the floor of the room. The room swirls with a haze of gore, fish heads, and half-eaten eels chumming the circling waters.