Gelik frowns in disgust and casts a quick spell.
Torch takes a grip on his scimitar as the bodies begin to move, then rushes forward, the blade swinging down at the nearest skeleton.
Ralf hits the undead monsters with a Glitterdust charm.
Seeing Torch run straight at the skeletons, Aerys decides she must help him and joins him in battle against the bones. "Torch, wait let them ..... Oh OK have it your way ... at them then Torch!!" She attempts to get in a flanking position.
As you approach the tree, the stench of rotting corpses hits you like a physical blow.
The undead are actually zombies , so Torch's blow has full impact, cutting the zombie down in a spray of noxious fluids. Aerys charges into the fray and deals another zombie a devastating blow, almost toppling it.
Ralf blinds the remaining undead, with one exception.
Gelik still to go, and then you again, assuming you beat the zombies' initiative of 3.
The smell punches Torch directly in the face, and it is only through sheer will that he avoids wretching. Spitting the sudden taste of bile out of his mouth, he turns and charges the only zombie not blinded by Ralf's spell, hoping to deal with it before it can react.
Gelik decides to go on a flaming rampage. He will cast Spontaneous Immolation on the closest zombie.
Ralf will blast the zombies with some sound.
sonic damage, DC 16 save for 1/2
The zombies succumb to your barrage of magical and physical violence, and you destroy them easily.
Eventually you reach Kalabuto. Surrounded by pineapple fields and date palm orchards, the city of Kalabuto perches atop a low hill overlooking
the River of Lost Tears. An ancient pile of vine-choked, crumbling ruins, it's not much, but at least it will afford you better accommodation than you've seen in a long time.
Warehouses make up the bulk of the structures along the water’s edge. Further inland, the ruins of the original ancient city begin, climbing up
the hill to the more lavish private colonial residences. Dozens of small kiosks line the riverside boardwalk, while eager-eyed youths scamper about peddling wares. Most sell local products or services, while others ply the hospitality trade, entreating visitors to stay in their homes for only a few coppers, rather than in more expensive lodgings.
You are almost immediately accosted by a little girl that tries to sell you some good-luck charms (rather hideous fetishes carved from wood) for a few coppers.
Ralf will buy one of the ugly good-luck charms, since he's soft-hearted.
I like this place, Gelik decides. He turns to the charm seller. What's your name, little girl? I'd like to buy as many charms as I can, with this shiny piece of gold. Then I'm going to immolate them, because they're awful. I'd like there to be more beauty in the world, and less ugly wooden carvings. Please don't make any more of these dreadful things. Take up a different profession.
The little girl says that her name is Kibi, but then her eyes widen in amazement as she listens to Gelik and she says no more.
Torch gives Gelik a sharp rap on the head with his knuckle. "Gelik!" he snaps. "Apologize to the young lady!"
Gelik reacts with a flinch and ducks his head as he shrugs his shoulders. He readies a scathing retort, but then his expression softens and he seems to think better of it.
I'm sorry, fair maiden. Your charms aren't ugly, really. That was mean of me to say. They're just a bit...rustic, is all. I'm sure they're very potent.
He turns to Torch, all innocence. Better? Anyway, I'm sure we can find this contact in the nearest watering hole. He is a dwarf, after all.
Back to the little girl. Say, sweetie, can you show us the way to the nearest tavern? I have a hankerin' for some fermented hippo milk.
Kibi blinks a little, then leads you to the Shrunken head tavern.
The Shrunken Head tavern lies on a stretch of riverside boardwalk wedged between an exotic hardwoods warehouse and a small copper foundry. A former warehouse, the tavern’s ground floor sits upon old stone ruins, while the remainder of the structure has a wood frame and plank walls.
Inside, customers crowd the dimly lit hall. A haze of smoke from guttering tallow candles fills the room, and on every table, dark-skinned dancing girls dressed in brightly colored veils work the house, occasionally dipping into the pockets of leering patrons. Once sacred spirit dancers, they’ve been reduced to little more than exotic curiosities who make their money entertaining drunken foreigners by performing bastardized versions of their ritual dances on bar tables.
You have no trouble finding Cheiton, a brawny dwarf with a easily recognizable tattoo, waiting at a large table. He grins and waves for you to join him, then order drinks for you all. "Welcome, lady and gentlemen. So... how was your journey to Kalabuto."
Hmm. I'm of two minds on this place. On the one hand, I could do without the exploitation of the women-folk. On the other hand, the overall impression is positively seedy, which I really appreciate in my dive bars. I'm going to withhold judgement until I sample the wares.
Gelik sweeps a bow in the dwarf's direction, Though I'm neither a lady nor a gentleman, I happily accept your welcome, and even more happily accept your offer of a drink. Barkeep! A glass of your finest fermented milk. Hippo if you have it, though any mammal will do in a pinch!
He sits on the tallest stool he can find and adds, Aside from the undead, two lots of undead, really, and the crooked cock-fighter and the carnivorous birds and whatnot, the trip was uneventful. Thanks for asking. Say, what would a fun-loving fey-folk do for a good time round here?
Gelik reacts with a flinch and ducks his head as he shrugs his shoulders. He readies a scathing retort, but then his expression softens and he seems to think better of it.
I'm sorry, fair maiden. Your charms aren't ugly, really. That was mean of me to say. They're just a bit...rustic, is all. I'm sure they're very potent.
He turns to Torch, all innocence. Better?
"Yes, thank you," Torch replies. The permanent sneer granted him by his scars makes it hard to know whether he is being ironic.
The half-elf follows the girl to the Shrunken Head with the rest of his companions. Once inside, he eyes the dancing women with an undisguised scowl, his fist clenching within the cestus on his hand. After a moment, though, his lips move soundlessly, as if he were murmuring to himself, and he forces himself to relax while he scans the bar for a tattooed dwarf.
When they find one, Torch nods to Gelik in acknowledgement of the gnome's accurate assessment of where to find this "Cheiton," joining him at the table and accepting a mug of the local ale. "Gelik's got it basically right," he adds once the story's done, "but I think the rest of the expedition will have some pretty smooth sailing. What can you tell us about the next stage of the trip?"
Cheiton lowers his voice. "Oh, I can tell you. But not here. The walls are all ears. Have you found accommodations yet?
Aerys, who has quietly followed her friends into the tavern, nods and adds to Geliks's words, "Given time, our journey would make a grand start to an epic poem." she smiles before downing a drink. "As for accommodation, we'd like something safe and low key, secluded where we can ready ourselves for the next part of the journey. Any ideas, sir? I don't like the idea of staying here with all these dancing girls around, things are sure to go missing." She takes in the place again, her eyes casting around the women with disdain for what they offer.
"Yeah, you can crash at my place and we can continue the discussion there. Just tell me what you need, and I'll try to get you a nice price. But look, your hippo milk is coming. Let's drink and be merry and save the plans for when we get to my place."
Cheiton's house is a squat, two-story house with three guestrooms at your disposal on the upper floor. He gives you a wry smile. "At least you won't have to worry about getting lost, since you'll be following the river most of the way. Is there anything you need?
Pushing his way into the Shrunken head tavern, Kamal sighs with relief. The trip between the main group and the forward scouts had taken several days. However, thanks to luck the druid had managed to make it back safely.
Reaching the inn, Kamal sights the rest of the group seated around a table talking to a grizzled dwarf. With a tired wave the dark skinned man pushes his way towards the table and sits down on a threadbare seat with a sigh.
See, now I like this guy. Business before pleasure is for chumps.
Gelik sees Kamal walk in and points to him, without missing a beat, Hippo milk? He then points to everyone else at the table, one after the other. Hippo milk? Hippo milk? Hippo milk? Regardless of the replies, he calls out, Hippo milk all round!
"Nice place you have here," Ralf says, slightly befuddled by what's going on.
He gives an IOU to Gelik for 200 gp, however.
Snorting in laughter despite himself, Kamal gives a warm smile towards Gelik's antics before shaking his head with a flash of ivory teeth. Ah my friends. The main caravan may be safer, but it is not nearly so entertaining. Don't get me started on Nkechi’s antics while you were away. The man takes such pleasure at being sky-clad that he had begun to embarrass even Kassata! Laughing again at the memory of the half-mad druid, Kamal stifled a chuckle before taking a deep breath out. Its' good to be back with the forward group.
After you finished your hippo milk and whatever you'd like to order Cheiton brings you to his house. "You can stay here for as long as you need, but I guess you'll want to press on as soon as you can. I heard there are other interested parties. So, what can I get you?
In case you don't want to buy anything, let's move to the next question: who will you be bunking with?
Ralf wants to craft a Headband of Charisma +2. I think he should be able to avoid the spell requirement as long as he takes 10 on the Spellcraft check.
Is that copacetic?
Gelik would prefer to bunk with Kamal, since he appreciates Gelik's humor.
Ah Joy.. Kamal said mostly to himself at Gelik's offer to bunk with him. I'm sure I'll learn several new fart jokes before the night is through. The druid said with a kidding tone in his voice.
Aerys looks back at Torch, shrugs and moves on. "Let's take stock of our supplies, we should replenish that which we have used." She nods to her host, "Shopping is something which might provide me with some basic weapon to hit our foes. A club or mace or something similar maybe."
Gelik contemplates an evening of fermented milk-generated wind, and even he doesn't find any humor in the subject. Human males seem to be fascinated with their own gas. Also, being struck in the yam-sack. Both subjects can work as comedy, if used sparingly and gracefully. For example, having a smaller than human-diameter exit, my flatulence has a higher pitch than the standard. I've sparked many a laugh with a well-timed squeaker. Of course, the element of surprise is critical. Don't say I didn't warn you.
In the middle of the night the windows suddenly shatter, waking you abruptly (even Ralf).
Roll for initiative. Map is coming.
You are all awakened by a loud crash as the window panes are shattered. You reach for your weapons and gear, but the black-clad thugs are faster. A bolt from a hand crossbow hits Gelik and Aerys with deadly accuracy, for 9 and 11 points of damage, respectively.
Then you are all up.
Aerys, stops in her tracks as she moves to unsheathe her sword. She coughs, trying hard to suck in the air to her lungs that move only slowly under the effects of the poison.
43 HPs.
Seeing Aerys immobilized, Torch shouts in rage and snatches for his blade, leaping to his feet.
Ralf tries to glitterdust the thugs.
Ralf blinds the thug. Gelik and Kamal still to go.