Wyn rolls her eyes as Thorn shoots; she was hoping they would not be the ones to make the first move--but her old ex-slave comrade was nothing if consistent in his lust for fighting. Even her attempts to block the way were fruitless as Aaron and John move up ahead of her.
Soldiering--or sailoring, as the case may be--on, Wyn wades forward and as much as her position will allow, thrusts forward a palm to knock the spear out of the nearest merfolk's hand. While she manages a good amount of force, whether it is sufficient is another matter.
Ollivor takes an interest disliking barking orders among the Mer, and while he doesn't know the symbol around his neck from a bit of scribbling on a Tavern table...it likely means no good.
The ship's cook wades forward just a bit, and then hisses a spell. Light erupts from his finger tips and two bolts sink into the Mer priest.
Letting out a grunt of pain as the second merfolk's spear pierces his side, Aaron is quick to return the favor, striking at his enemy with both swords in quick succession. The first strike finds the creature across its -or rather his- right shoulder, while the second results in the Chelaxian's sword piercing the merman's right side and sliding between the ribs under that same wounded arm.
"Finish him off," he hisses at John next to him, the words coming through clenched teeth.
|
Roaring in pain, John reeled backwards, blood flowing from the puncture just below his collarbone. The pain burned hot, as he felt the crimson fluid dripping down his sweat soaked shirt, below his armor. To his left Aaron's blades flashed in the cast light from Ollivors spell and twin sprays of blood caused the merman to roar in his guttural tongue.
Hefting this axe, John breathed hard. The cave was humid and hot. Despite the pain, John focused on the aquatic warrior before him. In his series of wild attacks the merman had left an opening that Aaron had already exploited. As the Merman was struck repeatedly, John swung his axe around again in both hands. Wicked point swinging downward, Aaron called out Finish him off! a half second before The point of the boarding axe punctured deep into the merman's spine just above the point where the human torso morphed into a fishes fluke. Ripping the axe point, the mans eyes fluttered briefly before closing into unconsciousness. Done an' done, mate. John murmured back to Aaron before hefting the point of his axe in the direction of the second spear wielding warrior.
Doran looks at the developing fight, and moves as if to join it, while feeling about in the water to grab a dagger off his belt. Unfortunately, the surging waters from the nearby combat are too much for him to manage these things, and instead he treads water and regains his equilibrium.
Vrunyar takes a stroke but an errant wave sends water into his mouth. He sputters and coughs trying to regain his composure.
Wyn feels the water churn from their smaller party members trying to approach the combat. She probably couldn't balance well if she hoisted up the dwarf, but...
"Doran! Climb on my shoulders!"
The halfling's knives would probably be better used against those things than Wyn's brawling tactics.
Doran looks at Wyn in some surprise, then nods quickly and says, "Got it, we'll take 'em out together!"
Thorn seeing his arrow miss it's mark and splash in front of the leader caused Thorn to burst into a controlled rage. "Damn wet fletchings! You won't be so lucky this time!" Thorn hasteily removed two more arrows from his quiver and nocked them on his bow string. Aaron and John both move forward to engage the approaching mermen partialy blocking Thorn's view of the white faced merman. Thorn watches and waits for an opening to the white faced merman as Aaron and John begin exchanging blows with the mermen one of the mermen takes a cleaving blow at the two men and strikes true. Thorn see's his opening just as the two men react to their wounds and lets loose his arrow's before the window of opportunity closes.
In his haste both Thorn's arrows clear the combat before him but not taking time to aim properly the arrows split and miss their mark once again. One arrow pass to the right of the white faced merman's head and the other to the left both disappearing in the darkness of the tunnel.
The priest's skin sizzles from Ollivor's magical attack as he swims forward. A shimmering miasma appears over the tattooed cleric as he approaches. The aura of menace and malice is nearly tangible. He reaches out and presses a hand against Wynifrid's face as she turns back around to face him. The aura flows through his body into hers, taking the path of least resistance. Her skin blisters horrifically, blossoming into bruises and bloody welts. She steps back in pain as blood flows from her eyes and nose, overwhelming her senses and thrusting her into black unconsciousness. The merfolk cleric shouts triumphantly, "Tukua!" The harsh-sounding word echoes through the water caves as Wyn collapses underneath the water. At the last moment, she emerges from the water with a gasp, clinging to consciousness with a will to fight.
As the attention of the crew turns to Wyn, now floating listlessly in the pinkish water, the surviving merfolk presses the advantage. He swims side-to-side - a bizarre-looking maneuver made capable by the unique physiology of the merfolks - and quickly makes two jabbing strikes with his spear. The first of the thrusts lands true, piercing Aaron and badly wounding him. The second misses John by the merest of margins. If not for the red-haired sailor's dextrous comfort in the water, he would be speared as well.
The third fighter floats face-down in the water, slowly drifting as he gets pushed out of the way by the other merfolk. Blood spreads from his terrible injuries where John and Aaron pierced his flesh.
Doran looks at Wyn in some surprise, then nods quickly and says, "Got it, we'll take 'em out together!"
"Wyn!" Ollivor remembers the battle on the lighthouse, good men and women dying and him next to useless against it. He sloshes through the water and lets another two magic missiles plunge forward into the foul cleric's chest.
Wyn gasps in pain, though does her best to give the merman priest a hard stare through the blood trickling where tears should fall. "Alright then, no more playing nice..."
Doran sees the attack on Wyn, and her steely resolve to stay in the fight. Only way I can see helping here is if I can get around behind that damn white-faced fish-priest. With this thought in mind, he swims a few quick strokes forward, then ducks under the surface and swims past John, careful not to bump him and draw an inadvertent attack from the marine. He pops out of the water near the floating body of the slain merman, pulling a dagger from his belt as appears.
Thorn was stunned in disbelief as his arrows zipped past the white faced merman who was now moving towards Wyn. Thorn reached for another arrow as he watched the white faced merman grab Wyn by the face and burn her some how with an inner magic. Thorn became even more enraged as he watched Wyn fall into the water. "DAMN YOU, YOU WILL PAY FOR THAT!!!" Lost in overwhelming emotion, Thorn released his First shot and shortly after followed the second shot. The white heat of rage pulsed through his veins and burned his skin as he snarled at the white face creature. The rapid vibrations of the taught bow string hummmed like music in Thorn's ears soon followed by two distinct "THUMP...THUMP" Thorn's lip slowly curled into a wicked smirk for this time he knew he had hit his mark.
Wyn figures she can't swim fast enough to escape the priest, although from the onslaught around her, he can't last for long. Trying to distract his focus while she draws her dagger, she sucks in the blood dripping down her face and spits it into his eyes.
The battle is fierce and Vrunyar knows he should be in the middle of it, not practically treading water. He takes a breath and kicks through the water, arms pulling, but his leather armor impedes his stroke and reduces his buoyancy. He struggles, essentially fighting the water to stay where he is and not get smashed against the wall.
Somewhat light-headed from the loss of blood thanks to the two wounds the mermen have inflicted on him, Aaron nevertheless manages to stay in the fight, even though his strikes do not find their target as easily as before. Still, despite his first stab missing the merfolk warrior, the second results in a horizontal slash that opens a bloody gash across the fish-man's midsection.
John lunges forward, splashing in the water with his peg leg, towards the blinded cleric. The merfolk warrior jabs his spear at him, but John maneuvers out the way as easily in the water as if he were a merfolk himself. Just as the cleric starts to wipe the blood out of his eyes, John comes crashing down on him and rams the back of his boarding axe between the cleric's eyes. The priest goes slack and drops his unholy symbol into the water.
The sole remaining merfolk defender tries to pierce John and jerk over to strike Wynifrid as well, but he makes the change too soon. It misses both John and Wyn, piercing nothing but the water as he pulls the spear back. He looks in all directions, seeing enemies on three sides - but he does not back down or retreat in the face of near-certain death.
Twisting to face the last merfolk warrior as its spear pierces the water just inches away from her, Wyn retaliates with a jab from the dagger she had drawn a few seconds ago, puncturing through one of his scales.
Staying focused on the enemy in front of him instead of the injuries he has sustained so far, Aaron brings his twin swords to bear once again. First the one and then the other, the blades find their target lightning fast, each of them biting deep into the merman's flesh with the second strike especially resulting in the sword piercing muscle and bone and puncturing the creature's left lung. There is an almost predatory look flashing across the Chelaxian's face, made even more prominent by the man's smile, as the enemy combatant seems to almost choke on his own blood.
Doran deftly keeps his balance amidst the sloshing waters, even surging briefly above the surface to get his arm free. He takes careful aim at the already badly wounded merman's lower back, stabbing him deeply where a land-dweller's kidneys would be. The fish-tailed man cries out briefly, then falls, floating on the surface like his comrades.
Vrunyar continues to flail in the water, hoping for an end to this misery. He considers throwing a dagger but fears he’d miss the target and lose it in the water.
With the third and final merfolk warrior cut down by Doran's merciless blade, an eerie quiet settles over the watery cave disrupted only by their labored breathing. The trio of merfolk sink to the bottom of the cave tunnel in an ever-spreading cloud of blood. The sole source of light - John's axe - remains a steady presence in the dark, dripping tunnel.
Wyn resheathes the dagger and leans against the wall to catch her breath. "Alright, now I could a shot from that wand if there's any left."
She looks around. "What I don't like about this is those, weren't, in fact, the squid things, and we may have now pissed off the natives." She raises her eyebrow at Aaron. "You sure our friends are down here? If they are, maybe we should take the other tunnel at the fork -- if what the Chell says is true and the squid zombies 'ride' anything that lives, I doubt they live harmoniously with the fish men."
Ollivor feels his blood cool, and his temper subside, "Thought you were almost a goner there for a moment, Wyn." He will wait for her to get a shot from the wand now in John's possession, but he also keeps an eye on the water, "We need to get a move on before the tide gets any higher. Should we search those three bastards or let em rot?"
"I was thinkin' the same, Wyn," says Doran as he sheathes his blade, so he can tread water with both hands free. He looks at his wounded companions with concern, even noting that Ivey fought bravely in spite of his near-mortal wounds. "Unless the fish-folk and the shell-zombies have some kind of truce. But we've started down this way, might as well finish it. Let's see if these guys had anything of use to us, then move on. Olli, can you give me hand holdin' this dead fella on the surface, so's I can give him a quick look?"
Doran hauls the limp body of the priest to the surface, ducking himself under water as he does so. Once someone grabs hold of it, Doran's nimble fingers run over the wrecked form, searching for anything of value.
Ollivor obligingly helps Doran lift the corpse of the priest up, taking the brunt of the weight and bulk if need be. Doran's tough as nails, but if there's one thing Ollivor can offer, it's height that allows him an easier time keeping his head over the water.
"Nasty piece of work this fellow was..." He mutters aloud.
Wyn shakes her head at Olliver, with a half smile. "I'd never get to be so lucky, Ollie. Yer stuck with my useless hide for a while yet."
To Doran, "Can the squid things make truces? I thought the Chell had said he'd never heard'em talk." She shakes her head. "We could split up. Probably not a great idea but there are a lot of us, and we don't have a lot of time."
"Can't say what the squid-things can or can't do, Wyn," responds Doran, "but I know for sure that splittin' up sounds like a dangerous plan, given how bloodied we just got by the first of the mermen. If we meet more, we'll want our numbers."
|
|
Grimacing in pain, John wades through the water towards Wynifrid. Keeping pressure on the spear puncture just below his collarbone, John fits the axe through his sash before digging out the driftwood wand. Seems like there's still plenty of juice in this thing. John replies back to the woman, eyeing the wooden wand but not really knowing what if anything he was looking for. Closing his eyes, John ran his thumb along the wood grain of the wand, feeling the smoothness under his thumb. It was the same smoothness of a just sanded deck. He breathed in the air, it was hot and humid inside of the cave. The smell of blood was in the water. He breathed in and out and reached for the warmth that lay bound inside of the wand, breathing out a prayer. Like a rising tide the power inside of the wand surged forward. John felt that he was starting to get the knack of it now. Touching the wand to Wyn twice, John watched as the worst of her wounds were healed. Aaron, also seemed to be in bad shape, though considering Wyn's reaction at the offer of unwarranted healing, John simply raised the wand in Aaron's direction, questioningly before healing himself.
Doran's right. Three of those mermen almost killed Aaron and Wyn before we could deal with them. They had the touch of a god upon em' too. Not sure how I could tell, but I knew something was taking notice of them. It's the same feeling I get when I use the wand.. but different.. The wand feels like wind and waves, the clash of battle and bad rum. That guy.. Shivering, John shakes his head. That magic reminded me of the way that the water felt just before the shark took my leg. Cold, hungry and deep.. Rubbing his chin pensively. John points to the white faced merman with the teeth encrusted holy-symbol that Ollivor and Doran had just lifted to the surface. The symbol looks a bit like a sharks jaw. Ya see em' hanging on wharfs and piers occasionally. Not sure what god it's supposed to represent though. Anyone got a guess?
__________________________
"Alright, you both've got a fair point. Then we'd best get a move on. For what it's worth, I still think we should go the other way, but whereever you all go... lead on."
She shakes her head to John. "Religion's not my area of expertise."
Thorn wades forward next to the fallen mermen and begins to remove and recover his fired arrows from the white face merman's chest. Thorn could see that the arrows penetrated deeply into the merman's chest. "Damn arrows, I think one is stuck on a rib" Thorn stepped on the merman's neck and pressed the dead body securely against the rock bottom. Thorn wiggled the arrow shafts to loosen their grip on the dead merman's body all while trying to avoid breaking the shaft. After removing the arrows Thorn decides to help Doran and Ollivor search the party of mermen by starting with the white faced merman. Thorn lifted the body from the rock bottom while using the buoyancy of the water to help support the dead weight. Thorn gave the body a once over to see if he had anything of use to him or the party besides the arrow Thorn put in his chest. Thorn also searched around the other bodies for any of the other arrows fired and missed into the water.
Now that combat is over, Vrunyar can take his time, push of the cavern wall and glide to the injured. ”I am so sorry for not getting into the fight,” he says treading water. ”You guys rely on me, and I let you down.” He nods in satisfaction as John heals Wyn and himself. He does a quick check on the other companions, noting that Ivey is terribly injured. ”It’d be hard for me to bandage you here, treading water like this. I suggest you get some healing from Rawkins. If you prefer, you may have my last healing extract of the day.” He gives the man a nod of appreciation for his actions in the battle.
”I don’t know much about about divine magic, but you’ve received the blessings of some deity, John. I’m sure of it. Not a moment too soon, either. You feel wind and waves when you hold the wand? Battle and bad rum? Doesn’t sound like Torag, HA! Fascinating too about the shark’s jaws. Hungry and deep....hmmm.” Vrunyar says his eyes tracing the shadows of the cavern’s rough walls as he thinks about what he knows of the various gods and religions of Golarion.
"You know, the... Chell is standing right here," Aaron quips in response to Wyn's words, a bemused look on his face as he momentarily appears to forget his wound, however serious. Still, it is only for a moment, as a wave of lightheadedness washes over him.
"I... thank you for the offer," the pale man replies to both John and Vrunyar, almost involuntarily taking a step back to distance himself from both the wand and the dwarf's healing concoction. But I am not without my own resources, however meager," he adds as he removes a vial from belt, takes off its cork and, after an expression of what could very well be described as mild distaste, drinks its content. Once finished, he tosses the now empty vial in the water, his wounds improving, but not healing entirely. Taking a moment to examine them, he shrugs. "So be it," he mutters softly to himself before once again turning his attention to the others and the task at hand.
Now that combat is over, Vrunyar can take his time, push of the cavern wall and glide to the injured. ”I am so sorry for not getting into the fight,” he says treading water. ”You guys rely on me, and I let you down.”
"Don't beat yourself up about it, Vrunyar, I don' know about the rest of you, but I've never seen any place like this island and sure wasn't prepared for half of what I've seen here. Seems to me by the time all is said and done, we're going to have some serious stories to tell."
"You know, the... Chell is standing right here," Aaron quips in response to Wyn's words, a bemused look on his face as he momentarily appears to forget his wound, however serious. Still, it is only for a moment, as a wave of lightheadedness washes over him.
Ollivor doesn't say anything, but quietly concedes the point. He fought hard enough, bled hard enough. Not sure I should hate a man for geography. We'll see how black his soul is by his actions, not his accent. A pause, Though I ain't exactly trusting him with a hug at this side of things either.
"Let's get a move on, John, you still have a light source, best you lead with it."
”Mind if I have that?” Vrunyar says, fishing Ivey’s discarded vial from the water. ”Can’t have too many of these when they’re so hard to acquire,” he says putting it carefully into a belt pouch and then searching the water for the cork.
|
|
Glancing at the bodies of the dead mermen, John nods back towards the group as they search the bodies for anything of use. Moving past the coral tridents, John eyes one, thinking about the damage they managed to do. Something like that would be rare on the surface and ought to work fine if it came to underwater combat. John liked the feel of the axe in his hand, but a back up weapon that he could throw wouldn't be a bad idea. At that thought, John hefted the blade, causing the light to stream from it's enchantment before reaching down and grabbing one of the tridents. Ok then, right it is. The marine states before pushing past the floating corpses and wading down the right passage in a continuing search for the group's captured friends.
A search of the merfolk bodies finds nothing beyond their weapons and the unholy symbol of the cleric. The three are heavily tattooed with tribal patterns, fearsome-looking even in death. They don't wear clothes, and the closest thing they have to pockets are the gills in their necks. Their hands are webbed up to the fingers, likely helping them swim even more than their powerful tails. After several minutes of fruitless searching, the sailors move on before the tide rises even more.
John leads the group down the right passage, acting as a torchbearer and guide. The depth of the water rises and falls with the floor of the cave. Sometimes they are in barely knee-deep water, and sometimes they all have to swim. They seem to be curving to the left in a slow circuit, maybe even looping slowly back to the fork that they came from - but it is profoundly difficult to tell while in the dark and claustrophobic caves. The group climbs up - themselves dripping with blood and sea water - to a shallow, wide part of the tunnel. It gives them a moment to catch their breath without walking in single file or pairs. As they breathe and rest, they hear a now-familiar shuffling sound. They draw their weapons just as some of the incutilis arrive in the tunnel from their front.
Three of the shambling corpses splash into the cove with the group from further down the tunnel. Each has one of the cephalopods attached to their heads. Their bodies jerk and sway as the masters use them like puppets, squeezing and pulling with their tentacles. The bodies are long-dead and missing most of their flesh - but Aaron still recognizes them as his former crewmates. He tries to remember their names, but the memories don't come to him immediately. Their dead eyes gaze forward without thought or life. The three zombie-like bodies attack the group as they spread out in the shallow water.
John leaps first into action with his greatsword out. He plunges the blade into the chest of the first body to reach him, driving it forward. It pierces him like any other enemy, but the walking dead creature barely seems to register. The creature on his head - which has been stripped away to the bone on the right side and to the muscle on the neck - reaches out to him with its wicked tentacles. Aaron leaps next to him, slicing the tentacles with both of his short blades. The corpse turns to attack him clumsily, lashing out with a bony hand. Aaron dodges out of the way of his former crewmate, giving John the opportunity to sever his head. The body drops immediately, splashing into the water. The incutilis tries to retract its tentacles from the severed head and swim into the water, but Aaron rams both swords through its shell at the same time - straight to its brain, the location of which he knows quite well.
Thorn rushes forward with a demented laugh, launching arrows at the zombie. "Target practice is better when they move!" He lands two arrows in the former Chelish sailor's chest to little effect. The shambler reaches out and grabs the elven barbarian, knocking both into the water. As Thorn tries to push the dead man off him before being choked to death or drowned, Wynifrid jumps to his defense. She puts a foot on the back of the man's neck and grabs the incutilis, then pulls with all her might. She wrenches the thieving, writhing beast off the body of the dead man. As it turns to fling its tentacles on her, she darts to the wall of the cave and dashes the shell against it as hard as she can. She slams it hard against the wall several more times, just to make sure, before throwing the limp creature into the ground.
Ollivor summons a bit of lightning into his hands, pressing it against the shell of the last of the cephalopods. It jerks and smokes as the electricity courses through its wet body, running down through its tentacles into the body that it rides. Doran and Vrunyar flank the same one from both sides, targeting the shell-encased creature rather than the man. Vrunyar gets an axe through the hard shell, while Doran drives his dagger as deep as he can. The incutilis releases its stolen body as it dies, which collapses limply into the water.
Ollivor is as disgusted by these creatures as the first time, but at least now he knows better what to expect. His crewmates move so quickly that he finds himself left only one target when they rush forward, and that's fine by him. While he's more confident in his magic than before, and indeed, finds himself reveling in it, he's not so foolish as to think he'll want to seek out every foe he can find.
Besides, I need to save something for Plugg He thinks as the lightning in his hands pops and cracks against the shell. Lightning comes easy to him, he realizes. The power of a storm thrums in his veins, and it's as natural to him as breathing. More than that, he feels entitled to it and a bit hungry for more.
While the release of energy was impressive, it's Doran and Vrunyar who finish it off with pinpoint precision strikes.
"No one hurt? Good. I like how that one turned out better," He says with a grim smile.