It appears to be a yellow musk zombie, product of a yellow musk creeper plant. It shares many traits ... primarily passive defenses as other advanced plant-life. Considering the purpose of this ability is to protect it's creator, it is uncommon for a YM zombie to be very far from the creeper.
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Inside the satchel is a tattered instructional book on nautical terms and sailing basics, but has since been written upon. A few notes addressed to 'My Dearest Wendall'
The first entry speaks of how the others had given up on finding him(Wendall)
The second entry involves how a few from the camp went to scout out the lighthouse 'We saw from the ship', but only one scout returned - attacked by savages.
The third entry is to tell Wendall they are abandoning camp. They felt too exposed on the beach ... and the drums... Caves were found not far away with fresh water nearby. The writer repeats 'I know you are still out there' and 'I long for the day when you find your way back to me'
A crude map is drawn on the page ... the landmarks are unclear, but it looks like it indicates to the east maybe 2 miles.
Syndlara glances up from the instructional book as she overhears Gatherine and Iolana discuss the moldy nature of the zombie to remark offhandedly, "Oh, that's a yellow musk zombie. Probably a yellow musk creeper plant nearby."
She ponders the map for a moment, then continues, "Looks like there are caves about two miles east of here with access to fresh water. I'm guessing that she didn't make it when they finally broke camp for the caves, though...."
"I've had enough already of this camp,and we need fresh water.We could give it a try."
Iolana tries to look for Cap.Kovak and Ieana's tracks.
"Before we go anywhere,however,we should find again Kovak's trails"
"So...Keep pressing onward, then? Or look for the caves this map points to? We left the captain's tracks back to the south of the beach a few hundred feet," she adds, pointing southward when Iolana starts looking for tracks.
"Those caves have waited this long, they can wait a bit longer. We should follow Kovack while we can."
Syndlara nods and starts to walk back toward the south, to where they left their quarry's trail. As she does so, she keeps a wary eye on the plantlife--obviously, she still expects the yellow musk creeper to be nearby.
"We still need fresh water, but i agree with mr.Cherthand.We'll come back here later"
Mugambi follow his companions lost in though reflecting on the nature of the strange undead.
While walking:
"I hope i'm not being too curious,but i would like to know something about you Syndlara.It is very uncommon to find a solitary elf over here,and you don't have to look of a sailor...and speaking of ships,were you sailing on your own?"
Syndlara shakes her head. "I'm not a sailor. I was just a passenger on a ship bound for Eleder. I was knocked overboard during a storm, and woke up on a beach not far from where I led you to your fallen friend."
Gatherine snorted to herself.I was a stowaway for a good four months before I tasted the cook's so-called culinary skills and got myself discovered after I barfed all over Mugambi's feet. Then it turns out the ship's captain was some lovesick loon who purposely crashed his own ship and kidnapped one of our fellow passengers to start a new life here on lovely Smuggler's Shiv.
Tol pays no attention to the conversation.
"I hope the rest of the crew of the ship you were on is safe.I was born onboard and always lived on ships.Being forced on this cursed island is really getting on my nerves,i apologize if i'm being inopportune."
:
Syndlara smiles, her gaze vigilantly outward as she follows the trail of their missing captain. "The story of how I got here isn't nearly so exciting. But perhaps I can put your tales to song when we get off of this island."
"Let me know when you'll be ready to write mine,so i'm sure to tell you something that makes me appear corageous and heroic,and gorgeously beautiful of course"
You have heard of yellow musk creeper. You don't know exactly how it works, but they somehow regenerate dead flesh without negative energy.Considering that, there is a good chance they are not adversely affected by positive energy.
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For whatever reason, you get the feeling Tol is trying to give the impression he is not paying attention. It could be nothing, you have seen similar behavior from men that were interested in you.
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The trail jogs south a bit and then west. You cross a muddy shallow rut ... a dried riverbed it appears. On the far side of the riverbed is another cliff; this one is about 40 feet high, and appears to be depicted accurately on Alton's map.
Syndlara stops and kneels next to the trail, her eyes warily scanning her surroundings.
Iolana gestures to the others to stop and points with her right index finger toward the ground.
There are clear humanoid bare footprints that go along this riverbed and appear to merge with the tracks the party is following.
Tol reins Gorra in and looks up and down the rut. "Looks like this is the local highway. Hmmph. Can you still follow Kovack and Miss Ieana, Miss, uh, Syn?"
Syndlara smiles wryly at the dwarf. "Of course."
Maybe captain got some company...
"Company, perhaps. But allies or enemies? Or, merely a coincidence? Miss... Syndarela... does it look like these other tracks were laid down before or after Captain Kovack and Ieana's? Or at the same time? Is there any sign of an altercation? I admit I can't make heads or tails of it myself, there's so many tracks."
Syndlara gives Tol a nonplussed look, one eyebrow arched, and then returns to studying the tracks. "It doesn't look like there was a fight. Here, anyway. They might have been joined by another group, or this group might have been ahead of the captain's party, or they may have followed after the captain's party had already gone past...."
Huh.I dunno,ya'll. What if Kovack had this planned out before hand and picked this island specifically besides it being convenient? Like he had a group of folk waiting around to help him out once the ship was smashed and the crew dead? Mebbie the thing they're carrying is payment or something for whoever's footprints belong to!
"So far,the only inhabitants we met that walk bare feet are the cannibals,so i'll attack the captain and whoever he'll be with except Ieana.Then i'll make questions."
Gatherine stroked her chubby chin thoughtfully with long-nailed stubby fingers.Hmmm.I gotta idea I'd like to suggest in case we come across more cannibals. It's safe to assume they've never encountered gunpowder given that lots reaction when I spooked outta the bush,right?
"Right....?" Syndlara replies, looking up at the dwarven woman from her vantage-point on the jungle floor.
"Could be right Gatherine,but how many bullets do you have? We need to count on the fact your ammo won't run out the moment we need it the most"
Most of the barefoot tracks are faded, apart from tracks of three going east (the other direction) which are fairly recent. You notice the tracks of both parties go around an area, and see what looks like a snare trap a few feet ahead.
After studying the tracks for a while, Syndlara stands. She points out a snare trap by walking up to and around it, pointing and saying, "Watch your step." She then begins leading the group westward, following what she believes to be the captain's tracks. "Keep an eye behind us. There were three pairs of footprints that recently made their way east, but I think your captain continued westward still."
Gatherine, if da captain had dis planned out before maybe he has second boat. One can only hope...
I can use rocks if it comes to that.All we need is a bit of gunpowder--wrap it in a bit of parchment or cloth,toss it into an open FLAME--BOOM.Cannibal bits everywhere or enough of an explosion to catch several in one blow.
"Three pairs of footprints, headed east, you say?" Tol grunts, and speaks stoically, "Ahem. I believe I know the location of three pairs of bare feet. Off to the east, in fact, if I've got my bearings right." He gestures meaningfully back in the direction the party had just come from. "I don't expect we've got much to worry about them at this point, though." He thinks for a moment, his heavy eyebrows furrowing, "On this island, though... Hmmph. One never knows." He gives a little shudder.
Iolana walks around the snare trap then says to Syndlara "Thanks,but usually where there are traps in a jungle there are also the ones who set them hiding nearby.Better watch out for ambushes."
The varisian girl turns to the dwarven explosive freak
"Just let me know, i don't want to be covered from head to toe in a mess of cannibals' entrails,my hair are dirty enough already"
The dwarven girl gave a sly smirk.I'm just using farmer tactics.Before I ran off to Janderhoff,I was living on me da's farmstead with me sister.Our situation is like this--we're trespassing on other predators turf because we have no choice.We happen to be docile predators who can take out other predators but choose not to because we are civil.Like a pack of me da's best war dogs patrolling the boundaries of the farm that happens to cross into the territory of,let's say,worgs.Worgs try to prey on the dogs.Dogs slay the aggressors and send a message: Wrong ones to prey on! We're the war dogs and these cannibals are the worgs.
Gatherine calmly checked her gun,making sure it was loaded.With her other hand,she held up the flask of oil with a wick running out of it.Smirking,she pulled out the tindertwig she'd salvaged from the supplies.
And as you already pointed out,whoever set this snare is probably lurking real close to see what they caught,watching us ever so closely.Why not give em some flare along with a good scare?
Pretending she wasn't actively searching,Gatherine scanned their surroundings.
"Then why not trigger the trap on purpose ?"
Iolana too search the surroundings
"Something like a trunk or an animal,just not one of us" she smirks in return.
The ammo thing is kind of nebulous. You have what you need to make more ammo in your gunsmithing kit (knowing how uncommon firearms are, you are well stocked on the rare ingredients). It takes one hour to make ammo and clean your pistol. In this environment, if you go a day without cleaning your gun - your misfire chance will increase.
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The snare has been here a while, it is unlikely that someone is staking it out (or that it was meant for you). More likely, someone comes by to check the traps.
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Where you have been walking, the treeline has been around a dozen feet from you, but an upcoming change in direction takes the path under the canopy of trees.
The path ahead curves a little further south then continues west; butting against the cliff face... The path turns into just a lack of underbrush. The dense foliage runs from the cliffside path to the thickening wall of green to the north.
Syndlara waves off the concern about the snare, remarking, "It's been here a while. It's more likely that whoever set it comes by to check it periodically." The bard keeps a wary eye on the cliff-face as she starts westward on the trail.
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Tol gets a little misty eyed as he rides along. "Oh, aye, I remember that battle against the worgs. It was a glorious day, the sun glinting off the fallen snow like silver, old Torgill's war-dogs baying like thunder, the worgs put to cowardly rout. It will be many a year before the worgs think to come that way again, I can tell you. Aye, a day to remember..." The old dwarf smiles wistfully, but soon becomes stern once more. "But, let it be said, worgs are mighty beasts. We had them outnumbered, and still, more than one of the war-dogs fell in the battle, and Koril Hammerhame was sorely wounded. At the end of the day, there was no silvery new fallen snow, just muddy pink slush. We're not here to stake out and defend a territory, we're just here until we can find a way to leave, and get back to civilized lands. We shouldn't go looking for trouble, lest we find it."
"I agree with both Syndlara and Mr. Cherthand,it is just that i don't like to be ambushed from the rear.Let's move on."
A'ight...but tell when you think its safe to stop for a half a wick. I'll need to clean me pistol and craft some more bullets aforesaid it decides to explode in me face when I need it most.
Almost disappointed,she tucked the flask of oil into her sash and stuck the end of the tindertwig in her teeth for easy reach.
She started to trail after the others as the group started to continue their steady march.
To Tol,she nodded.Aye,it was a surprise to be woken up by dwarves and worgs all over the yard that day. Me da sicced his best hounds on them and lost four of his favorites.But those hounds took nearly two worgs with em apiece and savages several more.Even the mules,donkeys,and bulls jumped the fence to engage those gob-wolves.The look on that lead worgs' face when that cow gored him and stamped him flat was something to remember.
She shook her head with a laugh.I remember how me sister saved our idiot highborn cousin from one of the worgs that tried to drag him off to eat him.She got an axe stuck in the spine of one so she actually had to beat it ioff him with her favorite iron frying pan!Its teeth went scattering in the air so all it could do was gum at her. Me da's dire badger dragged her back to the house after me da realized she was out there fighting with you all. She's the one who healed Koril after he lost most of fingers to one worgs teeth.
Iolana has been listening to the dwarves' tale for awhile,and she seems like she is going to tell something of her past,but she always hesitates in the end.
Finally she begins,her tone like as she is uncertain on what to say.
“I have a tale of a battle too,but i'm always hesitant is telling it.I was still 16 and my dad's ship were going to battle with a rival pirate vessel,didn't i tell you ? Da was a pirate,this is why his daughter had to grow on a ship,we rarely could enter a port.
Anyway i have been training with sword and magic and as a crewmember for all my life and was eager to help in a real clash too,like a teenager can be,but of course da didn't want me to risk my life and had me locked up.
To put it in short, i escaped the cabin i was locked in only to end prisoner of the other ship's captain,i was so scared,and even thought that crew was rough on me they didn't really hurt or....well you understand;their boss told i was a valuable hostage so he didn't want me to be raped.
My da managed to come to my rescue but in the ensuing naval battle both ships sank and i never saw my dad again.Mum died a couple of years before that.Using some plank as an improvised raft i managed to get to Port Peril and found the job on the Jenivere.The rest you know.
Another tale of mine involves a romance ended in the wrong way and me running naked for the streets of a port the name of which i'm
going to tell.”
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Ah,that's why you hate bein' naked,eh? But the daughter of a pirate who survived an epic naval battle that resulted in you floating into port on a plank? Pretty lucky---and Hardy of you.
Gatherine gave the sailor a wink,thumbing her nose mischievously.Can't say I got such a harrowing start.Except maybe Tol and Gorra--me da was patrolling his borders with his dogs when he saw Tol and Gorra running from a gryphon dead on eating itself a horse.Me da has always had trouble with them from time to time going after the mules and donkeys.Well,let Tol tell ya how me da brought him back home---and becoming my so called nanny. She cast the mounted dwarf an exasperated look as they walked.
She glanced over at the oddly morose Mugambi,peering at the squinting tusked mask curiously.What about you,Mugambi? How'd you come to be on the Jenivere? And what's with the mask?
"Thanks Gatherine,but not really that epic,life at sea is rough.What you think may be exciting and fun it is just everyday life....when you are not starving for months of inactivity."
Syndlara seems to be half-paying attention to the dwarves' and Iolana's tales, but far more interested in keeping an eye on her surroundings and the tracks she's following. "Quite the tales," she remarks offhandedly, but she does not offer up any of her own.
You follow the trail as it leads to, and runs along the side of the striated limestone cliff face to your left. The ground is less silty here; the green groundcover comes right to the edge of the path. Several dozen feet further, you enter where the trees grow right on the edge of the path to your right. The bottom leaves of the canopy above your heads is still wet, as Tol soon learns.
The jungle to your right is as thick as you have seen. It is dark, and your own voices seem louder - you can even hear your own foot falls. The sound of the wind and the surf muted, the sounds of the indigenous life that you have come to label as harmless are quieted....