"Yeah, we plan on moving out tomorrow morning... Heading to an ancient archeology site. Anything you can tell us to make the passage safer would be appreciated."
RA:
Here let me help you falko he says helping him to bring the mules into the stable
Diplomacy Gather Information DC 15
the broad details of Xambria’s story. It was the talk of the town that a bunch of city folks got themselves killed in the High Bayou, and that the only survivor was a young woman. But that was nearly two months ago. However, no one remembers any tiefling group
"Pole Boats, huh? Alright, thanks." Asher says, and makes casual conversation with the bar patrons for an hour or two without learning anything else much of substance.
He'll have a few drinks and unwind before heading to the Inn and seeing what accommodations Cretien was able to find, assuming nothing of note happens before then.
Where Asher's gruff formality fails, Johnathan intercedes with earnest care about the people's problems and struggles, connecting and relating to them with surprising charismatic magnetism. The kid has quite a force of personality when he's not a million leagues away in his own head--or wherever he goes.
Johnathan
ago another group of outsiders came through in the night, equipped for
monster hunting. They returned a few days later and placed an object in
the back of a wagon for transport. It was wrapped in cloth, about as large
as a dinner table top, but much heavier than wood.
Voice of Rot appeasement Knowledge Religion check DC 15
"And are meals included with the fee?"
Cretien hands over the silver and takes the key(s) to their room(s) and goes to inspect them.
MG
The one room has two beds and the other has three. The beds are made of straw and there are chamber pots for each guest.
Fall Day 6
The next day
Dr. Xambria Meredith provided a detailed map and directions. In the town of Agate you acquire pole-boats and set out into the High Bayou, a landscape unlike anywhere else in the world.
Though trees and other plant-life poke out of the slow waters, the land beneath is not coastline but rolling hills. Streams from the Anthras Mountains snake down to the bayou, but instead of flowing freely they are trapped by berms of massive spider webs. The giant ground spiders of the High Bayou have coated huge swaths of terrain with their nests, made of silk much like beavers craft dams
of wood.
You have to travel slowly to avoid the dangers of the swamp. Swarms of biting insects flock to the scent of blood, and pale crocodiles blend into the white, silkcoated hillocks that peek out of the waters. Cypress trees shelter you from the sun, but you have to navigate carefully to avoid drifting into titanic walls of web, as large as a hundred feet across, stretched between trees.
And the rain. Always the rain. It cuts visibility, soaks everything, and dulls your ears to the movements of predators. Sometimes, through the calls of birds and croaks of toads, you imagine you can hear a slithering whisper, indecipherable beneath the drone of the rain.
The next morning Asher complains to the others about being unable to find a guide, but discovers the need for pole boats. He'd recommend getting enough boats to carry the mules, so if they run across more than they can carry, they aren't forced to leave whatever they find behind.
Without a guide, they're left with Meredith's directions. Asher volunteers himself to try and navigate, having spent some time in inhospitable wilds during his time fighting for the archipelago, though he isn't by any means a specialist at it.
Rain is slamming down into Agate the next morning, hitting the metal rooves of the hovels like a hammer on nails, and flooding the mucky main street. Your pole-boats are ready and you set out into the High Bayou, a landscape unlike anywhere else in the world, just as the sun is rising. Adarun recalls the way and Tiran is supremely confident (and possibly still drunk) that everything will go swimmingly.
After about twenty minutes you realise you are going to need to bail out the boats full time due to the unrelenting rain. You are all completely soaked and all your food supplies are ruined. And the rain just keeps pouring.
You paddle and pole around trees and other plants that poke up out from the slow water of the Bayou. Instead of being near the coast, this bayou is raised up on a plateau, flanked to the south by the mountains and to the north by rolling hills. The streams that gush down from the Anthras range should snake out towards the coast normally, but instead of flowing freely they are trapped by berms of massive spider webs. The giant ground spiders of the High Bayou have coated huge swaths of terrain with their nests, made of silk much like beavers craft dams of wood.
You have to travel slowly to avoid the dangers of the swamp. Swarms of biting insects flock to the scent of blood, and pale crocodiles blend into the white, silkcoated hillocks that peek out of the waters. Cypress trees shelter you from the heaviest downpours, and the hot sun in the gaps, but you have to navigate carefully to avoid drifting into titanic walls of web, as large as a hundred feet across, stretched between trees.
GM Rolls
2nd 4 hours:Chretien , Johnathan , Asher , Falko , Angus
3rd 4 hours
1st 4 hours:Chretien , Johnathan , Asher , Falko , Angus
Angus take non lethal damage due to mosquitoes
Asher, can you give me 3 more Survival checks
.
.
Johnathan has a miserable time with the mosquitos--though not as bad as some. "Uhg, does anyone know a smell that repels them?" He hugs himself and starts trying different smells with prestidigitation, seeing if anything keeps the bugs off. He pinches his nose shut, "I dot thik the dead livestahk is helpeen."
Survival:
Survival:
Survival:
GM Rolls
5th 4 hours:Chretien , Johnathan , Asher , Falko , Angus
Chretien takes , John , Asher , Falko , Angus non lethal damage.
Asher after 20 hours of trial and error finally gets you to the dig site, the sacrifice to the voice of rot must have prevented monster attacks or something because at a few points you thought giant spiders would attack you but then they turned away.
Even though it is dark:A golden strip of fabric flutters in the rainy breeze. Woven around the trunk of a tree, it marks the first clear sign you’re getting close to Xambria’s dig site. Beyond in the distance you spy another golden marker, and far past it, hidden in the drizzle, perhaps a third.
A patch of land cleared of webs near the tree also sports a hitching post of sorts for your boats. You tie them up, then follow the trail a few hundred feet up a slight grade. The sparse trees of the swamp thicken to a tangle of greenery, studded with golden markers to show that civilization was once here.
You decide that it is best to set up camp for the night before proceeding forward.
Asher approves of Cretien's idea to use the boats as shelter if none other presents himself, and after walking the mules onto the shore and securing them by rope and tethers to some kind of stable object (a tree?), checks the firewood to find it soaked.
"F@&$ing hells below!!" he starts mildly. "I don't know if this heavy b@&~#$!@ will light now! Any of you have some kind of magic to dry it out?! It's been far too long since I've been in a hellhole like this! Why weren't there any f@$%ing guides willing to show us around the gods-damned-webs!" he torrents out in a quiet mutter, trying to not let his anger alert every creature for a mile to their presence.
Johnathan flinches from the bugs and weather. "I don't like spiders."
"Given some time, I could patch up the boats. Not as long as it would normally take, but still. Or I could put my inventing to other use. I have a few inventions that I can cannibalize, that I realize aren't really useful in the wilds."
"And yes, Falko, I do believe some kind of guard should be posted. Normally on expeditions, hired guards are used, but I suppose we do not have that luxury."
Johnathan, despite looking miserable himself, comes over and smiles warmly to Asher. "It'll be fine, here..."
He crouches by the firewood and concentrates a moment. The wood gradually dries up, water seeping into the dirt. Then he touches the wood and a bright spark ignites it. His shoulders relax a bit from the concentration, and he rubs his hands together over the fire.
"Nice work, Johnathan. With all this moisture, we also probably don't have to worry about the fire spreading. The one good thing about this moisture, anyway."
He beams, "Thanks Professor."