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Lore enjoys her hot meal, something she doesn't get very often. and when she's done and isn't allowed to help clean up, she does pout a little... "But I LIKE cleaning up after myself... " and she goes off to the deck to pout... It doesn't take long though for the sites and sounds and smells of the giant lake to overcome her little pout and she becomes fascinated watching the water flow past the vessel...
After Eadie appears in her full regalia, Lore grins and circles her a few times. "Oh, Eadie... it's all marvelous... I love it! It's... so....YOU!"
As far as marching order is concerned... Lore offers to go somewhere in the middle-ish - not in the front because she has no stealth, nor in rear-most, as she is probably one of the slowest in the party and doesn't want to get left behind. "Someone sharp with good stealth skills should maybe go first? Do we have a ranger?"
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"But I LIKE cleaning up after myself... "
Eadie is having none of it.
With an imperceptible smile, she says “You can take your little pouty face back up on deck, thank-you Madam.”
Regardless of their location on the Black Mist, everyone may hear a gorgon-like bellow that VC Marcos Farabellus would be proud of.
♞♞♞♞
Eadie lifts her visor, sets her feet about shoulder width apart, striking a pose with a handful of cape held on her left hip. She looks coyly over her right shoulder and *winks* as Lore moves into view.
“Thank-you so much, Lore!” Before giving her friend a hug.
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Roland was checking for tracks or any signs of who buried the fallen or where they went.
The ranger silently studies the soil and vegetation in the area for different angles.
"Eadie, I can scout ahead for trouble. I may not have zhe most keen eyes in zhe group, but zhey may suffice . "
He grabs his longbow and nods he is ready when others are.
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Iggy takes note of Eadie's armor, "Very nice. I myself stumble about terribly when I try wearing full plate - just don't have quite the knack for it, I guess."
Stepping off the boat, Iggy's inner ear finds it's equilibrium, and his stomach settles down. "Ah, that's better..."
Once at the cultist's firepit, Iggy shakes his head at the two graves, "Tsk, tsk...I suppose we shouldn't take a place called Terror Island so lightly, eh?"
He leans down, trying to help Roland any way he can.
Before the party sets off on the trail of the cultists, Ignatius takes a moment to address the party. "Now, Roland looks to be our best scout. However, if you'll allow me, I've studied some of Iomedae's tactical guides, and I'd be happy to help out one of you should trouble arises."
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Eadie smiles at the Inquisitor's compliment. "Thank-you, Ignatius."
“My older brother was accepted into the order of Iomedae's Paladins. My parents were so proud...”
“Oh, you’re so lucky having a brother, Iggy! Growing up, it was just my Aunt Alix and me.”
Eadie senses she may be in the presence kindred spirit. “My biological mother was a paladin. Although I never knew her, she was always put on a pedestal at home.”
“All I know is she would have had to have been pretty special to be a better person than her older sister – my Aunt Alix, who was a bookkeeper by trade.”
Indeed, the graves seem to be those of two Razmiri cultists wrapped in their own cloaks and wearing their telltale iron masks. Examining their bodies, you can easily determine that they were probably killed by an animal, judging by the teeth and claw marks.
(trapspotter)
While examining the graves and firepit, August and Roland seem oblivious to the growling of four approaching wolves!
Lore takes down one of the wolves before it has a chance to charge! One of the wolves moves to Niko while the other pair surrounds Ignatius!
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“Who’s afraid of the …”
Eadie drops her polearm in fright. “Oh no, wolves!”
Then the black knight watches Lore calmly drop the first one with her x-box x-bow, providing some much-needed inspiration to the young Pathfinder.
I can do this.
Eadie charges forward 25’ drawing her enchanted falchion and attacks the blue wolf harassing Ignatius.
Eadie and Ignatious each take down a wolf! Lore then brings one to the brink and the party quickly finishes it off!
Eadie and Roland are able to follow the tracks easily enough.
The cultists, whose trail leads into the Lingerlost Swamp to the east, follow a relatively straight course over fairly dry ground and travel as though they aren’t expecting anyone to follow them—no doubling back, no false trails, and no attempts to cover their tracks. Their path leads due east into the swamp, heading into the interior on an unerring course toward the southern shores of the poisonous Whispering Lake.
Emerging from the nearby brush with his arms raised high and bearing no obvious weapons is a human man, about six feet tall, with a tangle of long, dirty red hair and a long red beard, wearing tattered, hole-ridden clothes soaked through with mud and stained black in many places. Even before he gets close, his stench precedes him—it’s not only as though he hasn’t bathed in years, but that he seems to have actually gone out of his way to cover himself in the most horrible smells the Isle of Terror has to offer: a blend of rotten eggs, human waste, and decaying organic matter. An arrow is lodged in the back of his right leg, but seems to cause him no pain as he sloshes through the waters of the swamp. Suddenly he stops. His eyes go wide and he loudly exclaims, “I found you!”
For a while, he simply stares at you, dumbfounded, and then erupts into a loud, blubbering fit of equal part tears and rage. He tugs at his hair, pulling out fistfuls of it and shaking them at you as if the sudden loss of hair is your fault.
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Lore steps forward, her caregiving nature taking hold. "Hello there, poor fellow My name is Lorelendral, but you may call me Lore. What's your name?... You look like you've been through a lot. And yes, you've found us... why were you looking for us? Are you here alone?" SHe tries very hard not to wrinkle her nose at the stench as she reaches up and pats him gently on the arm as she speaks...
“Venture-Captain Tree Roots said we should come to… island to island and then we left the city and swam north, keeping abreast of each other to fend off fish and then we swam and swam and we swam for years and came here to the island and we went inside the island and saw its heart and it was black and we knew it was black and we came out and we were black and then the blackness consumed them, ate them alive, ate me alive, and then we were all dead all dead all dead and I was dead and they were dead, and they were dead and I wasn’t dead—do you see? I was alive! I was alive and they were dead and then I lived here and I lived in a tree and a cave and in the ruins and I saw, I saw, I saw things, and then the men in masks came and they fought the lizards and many died on both sides, many died, oh yes, many died and they did not get back up they were not dead like me and they headed to the doors, to the many doors by the river, the many doors where I slept once when the storms reached down and grabbed me. They are there now, they try to open the doors come with me, yes, come come come with me. I can show you where they are.”
He then suddenly stops and smiles, revealing only a handful of yellowed teeth.
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Lore frowns slightly, thinking the man mad, but having no cure for such. "Venture-Captain Tree Roots? I don't think I've heard of him... You can show us where these men went? That would be good, thank you."
She turns to look at the others with a questioning look and shrugs, as if to ask them if they agree...
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Eadie reassures the well-groomed dwarf with a smile. “We’re OK, August. This poor man was lost.”
Is he mad or something more sinister ..?
“I have heard Kreighton Shaine called ‘Flower Pointer’ and I once overheard a middle-aged ranger call Aram Zey … um … perhaps I’d best not say.” Eadie’s cheeks flush pink in memory.
From her backpack, Eadie pulls a pound of plain soft tack biscuits/cookies that she stole from stores and made up in the Black Mist’s galley while Lore was on deck. “Huh? I wonder how these got in my bag?”
“Would you like one, Mister?” Eadie then asks the man quite openly. “So are you leading us into a trap?”
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Lore turns and flashes Eadie a smile. "Thanks for offering him something to eat... I'm afraid I have little to spare in that regard myself or I would have thought to do so." She turns to the fellow who has yet to give his name and says with a smile, " i'd take one if I were you, sir, she's not one to offend. Besides they look yummy..."
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“Oh, where I my manners? Aunt Alix would show me the wooden spoon if she were here.” Eadie offers the bag to Lore and the rest of her companions.
“Oh, and I wasn’t going to keep ALL of them for myself, Lore.”
“Uh uh. I thought if we got stuck for supplies we could crumble them up, mix them with a bit of created water and make gruel.”
Eadie then realizes the discovery of the biscuits is supposed to be a surprise to her. “Isn’t it nice weather we’re having on the Isle of Terror today?”
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August started to listen the the crazy man but quickly lost track of all the dead people and got bored. The dwarf is distracted by the baked goods and happily takes one when they are offered. OK, umm... so now we done found this fella here, we aregonna let him show us them doors? Sounds fine by me, I guess. Right, Eadie?
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Lore nods to August in reply to his question to Eadie... and takes a cookie, trying it. She keeps her face totally impassive and nods to Eadie... "These are quite good for a first effort... maybe a little more butter, a little less flour and they would've been perfect. How about we make a batch together when we get back? In the meantime, these will be awesome crumbled up and added to some oatmeal! Just like a streusel topping."
She turns back to the strange man and blinks at him as if surprised he's still there and smiles. "Shall we go find these men and the doors? Please take us to them, good sir, after you've had your fill of cookies, that is. Please, too, will you give us your name so we know what to call you."
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Eadie beams at the gnome chef’s comments as she readies to move off, polearm slung over shoulder. “Oh, doing a batch together would be fab, Lore! I’m so glad you like them.”
“I’m especially pleased with the initiative I showed. Like, when I couldn't find enough sugar aboard the Black Mist, I simply made up the difference with salt instead! Clever, eh?”
*Puppy dog eyes* “Niko, Iggy, have you tried them yet? What about you, Roland?”
Ignatius listens to the man's raving.
"Alright friend...so - you are a Pathfinder?" Ignatius gives a careful glance to the others, unsure of whether to believe the man.
"We can follow you, but what should we call you sir?"
The man nods at the word Pathfinder but has to think a bit longer about what his name is. "Dusan Dremlock. . . I think."
He hungrily takes the offered food and gobbles it down. Eadie is pretty certain that he has no ill intent, but has rather just been driven out of his mind by the things he has seen spending years alone on this island.
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he first guides them to a cave deep in the darkest, most overgrown part of the swamp. Inside are all of his earthly possessions: a couple of ratty backpacks, a broken short sword, a moldy blanket, a waterskin, and a heavy wooden shield missing half its circumference. A barrel stands at the back of the cave, in which he’s piled an assortment of tubers, leaves, and dried meat of indeterminate origin. He stuffs both backpacks full of food, straps the broken shield on his back and the broken short sword at his waist, and grabs the waterskin. "Long way to go," he explains. "Many miles. Are you ready?"
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After a quick look around the cave, the young warrior nods that she’s ready while thinking out loud. “I’ve got no clue what these doors he’s talking about may be …”
In a friendly but urgent tone, Eadie tries to attract the hermit’s attention. “Dusan. Hey, Dusan! Can I walk with you for a while? You know those lizards that the masked men fought? How big were they and where do they live? Do the lizards walk on two legs like we do?”
Dusan constantly mumbles to himself as he walks along but seems to snap out of it whenever you address him directly. "Two legs. Lizards of Unusual Size, they've got big nasty clubs and big nasty teeth. We go east through the Whispering Lake. The lizards live there."
Sure enough, after a long 14 mile trek during the first day you come across a campsite on the swampy southern shore of Whispering Lake that appears to have become a scene of battle. You find the bodies of nine Razmiri cultists left out in the open and clearly gnawed open by scavengers.
Scattered about the cultists are the corpses of at least three dozen black-sclaed, reptilian humanoids with morningstars and heavy wooden shields.
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Eadie pinches her nose at the stench. She pokes around the carnage for a lizardfolk shield and morningstar in good condition. She hangs the shield from the back of her pack, while slipping the primitive weapon inside it.
“Bentsha-Captun Fluxseed might aprechiate some pimutuv artarhfax to dispray in thu lodje.”
“Gis is Tahr-Gaphun’s Islund, right?” Eadie unpinches her nose to make herself easier to understand.
She nearly gags at the smell before saying. “I think we should gather the bodies and burn them, so they cannot rise as undead. The smell will be incredible, so I think we need to put some distance between ourselves and this spot after that. Hopefully when they see the smoke, the lizardfolk and Razmirans will both think the other group did it.”
“What does everyone think?”
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"Zhat seems reasonable, Eadie. I can help with zhe bodies. I can tie a rope to each and drag zhem into a pile for zhe pyre. "
Roland's eyes are watering but helps with the effort.
this is unclean work. I wish I would have brought an extra set of work gloves. Ew, and maybe a new rope.
He looks at a few of the bodies.
"Lore, Zhese lizard men have zhe markings unlike any of zhe lizard folk I have seen in any part of zhe world. Very strange . "