"Well then," He addresses the two talkative ones. "If we are to cooperate against fell beastie, Perhaps introductions are in order?"He performs an elegant mockery of a formal bow, one ankle behind the other, straight legged, bowing stiffly at the waist with his arms outspread.
"I am, Fazaam."
With the light quickly fading Fudrick helps Roman light the torches around the camp. As he is working he speaks quickly with Fazaam, "Well meet Fazaam. I am Fudrick, the big guy is Yrar, the one helping him with defences is Roman, and the one laying down over there" He points at the other Gnome still badly hurt, "is Shulim. We came bringing supplies for my cousin Zatari when we came upon all this. Since you are not with my cousin and his team what are you and your companions doing out here?" Fudrick looks at Fazaam with a raised eyebrow.
"Well met all, well met indeed. Hrm. Here, let me help you with that!" Fazaam says as he abandons his pose and jumps to help Roman and Fudrick light torches and gather useful items for defense into the center of the camp. What ever else he may be, it is clear that he is used to, or at least unafraid of, hard work. He is also clearly stalling having to answer Fudrick's question.
He even goes so far as to send Hasan on top of the tent/shack, where the monkey acts as if he were a lookout, peering at the jungle all around before returning to the safety of Fazaam's shoulder and chattering nervously.
Fazaam surveys the hasty defensive handiwork as if he were the captain of a ship. Feet apart, hands on hips, clearly another pose. Until his gaze meets Fudrick's still-upraised eyebrow. He sighs, and gives a self depreciating smile.
"Well, you seem decent enough folk. And seeing as how we all seem to be in a bit of pickle barrel here together, and Garyn is gone, and that fool Yorall is dead," the last is said with a barely suppressed hatred, no, iron-coated glee. "I guess it won't hurt to tell you the truth of the matter."
At this Hasan begins chattering in Fazaam's ear, but Fazaam reaches up without looking and covers the monkey's mouth with an obviously well-practiced motion.
"Hasan believes 'Silence is Golden', I think he should practice what he preaches." Fazaam says with a stern glare at Hasan, followed by a bit of food.
"Please remember that truth is stranger than any story-teller's fiction, and that this tale is not as sinister as it may first sound. The what we were doing here is simple enough. We were sent to spy on the gnome Zatari's camp and report back what we saw. I don't know what information she was looking for! Only that we were to report back everything we saw at the camp!" He hastily adds. Holding up his hands against the outburst to come.
"The why is somewhat more complicated. We, that is, Garyn and I, are currently UNwilling 'Corsairs' sailing on the Sea Harem under command of the Sea Witch, Zerea. UNwilling mind you! The only reason we stay there is because she is holding Garyn's sister as a 'guest' onboard to ensure our 'cooperation'. Though she is seriously pushing her luck this last week," he mutters darkly. The moment is gone as quickly as it came, and he continues.
"She sent us to the island with one of her favorite boot-lickers, Yoraal, to spy on the camp, as I said. With instructions to return in no longer than a week, or Temusa, that's Garyn's sister, would take a turn for the worst, health-wise." He explains, concern on his brow belying his light hearted tone.
Fazaam shrugs, "I'm not sure what happened here." He says, indicating the camp. "The last I saw, it sounded as if they had found something in what they called the 'Chamber of Urns'. At the dig up the hill. It looked like a large silver urn best I could tell. Zatari and one of his men, Mokarin I think? were arguing over whether or not to open the urn here or wait. Zatari put his foot down and I thought that was it. But early this morning Zatari and his servants left unusually early. We don't know why, But they left so early we couldn't follow without being spotted. So we waited. It was Yoraal's turn to watch."
Fazaam's perpetually cheerful countenance assumed a grim look. "All Yoraal would say was that some servants returned, running, and bearing a body. They were grabbing stuff to run when they were attacked. Yoraal wouldn't say by what, he only called it an 'evil one'. And he was a dark-hearted bilge rat that didn't scare easily." Fazaam spat at the ground to emphasize his dislike for the man, followed by the sign commonly used to ward off the evil spirits that were attracted to those who speak ill of the dead. "He would only tell us that one was attacked and sliced it with a Jambiyah, and another was dragged into the forest."
"We all heard the screaming, and when it stopped. Yoraal insisted that we run for the rowboat and try to make the Sea Harem before dark. He stopped about halfway there to relieve himself,... and here we are!" Fazaam finished with a flourish and a smile.
He faces Fudrick. "You said that Zatari was your cousin?" He asks, he then places one elegant hand over his heart, and says solemnly, "I swear to you now, that I had nothing to do with whatever happened here. And that in return for your allowing me into your camp in my time of need, I will do my best to help you discover what has happened to your cousin."
"Besides", He continues in his regular, lighthearted tone, "I admit that my curiosity is kindled! I wish to see for myself what they have discovered here, what fell beast they may have unleashed, and what in the Splintered Isles is Zerea's interest in all this?" He asks, his fine elvish eyebrows furrowed in contemplation.
The Half-Orc nods to the Elf while keeping his focus on the jungle. Tense and standing ready with his Maul, he just says, “I am Yrar,” as an introduction while ignoring all of the pompous jestures.
Once it seems that the imminent danger has passed, Yrar looks to work with Roman to secure the camp. “Better wake Shulim and get him away from the edge. Maybe get that fire pit going also.”
Yrar moves around doing what he can until he hears the Elf speak of the enslavement of a woman, “Somebody in need?” His voice rises and a growl comes forth and it seems he is about to enter a rage-like state, like the one when fighting the boar. After some heavy breathing and pacing, he snarls through his thick beard, “Whatever evil is on this island, I will fight through it. Then we will get to this woman and rescue her.” He turns to the jungle and starts roaring, “HEAR ME BEAST? COME TO ME NOW, AND WE WILL FINISH THIS.” Breathing heavy, Yrar holds his maul ready for an impending attack.
As Roman works with Yrak, he says quitely but not hiddingly with a smile.
"Where I come from we have a word for that sort of creature," gesturing towards the elf or his monkey, it being hard to tell which, looking Yrak in the eyes he says "Translated I think it would be Liar?..."
Watching Yraks later beconing of danger he shakes his head " Above or below the waves, nature plods along at her own pace, and to attempt to change it otherwise is to invite ruin"
“Whatever evil is on this island, I will fight through it. Then we will get to this woman and rescue her.” He turns to the jungle and starts roaring, “HEAR ME BEAST? COME TO ME NOW, AND WE WILL FINISH THIS.” Breathing heavy, Yrar holds his maul ready for an impending attack.
Fazaam looks at Fudrick, wide-eyed, and indicates Yrar with a thumb.
"And they call ME melodramatic?" He says with a grin to disarm any hostile feelings.
"Besides, since she is not only Garyn's sister, but my girlfriend, I think that's MY line!" He grins.
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Fudrick finds that the table has Zartari's papers in a typical mess. He always a bit like that. On top of three old scrolls of scribbled notes is an unfinished letter to Fudrick, beside which is a large pot of ink and a pen.
Zartari’s Letter
Well look who is laughing now. I told you before that it was important. Well while I await confirmation from the city, I have continued to dig. You should see it. The diggers have worked hard and we found a special chamber. In it are things that will make my name and shock the Isles.
You’re good with people. What should I do about a servant that thinks he knows it all? I have one, Mokarin, he always makes jokes about my size and tries to make the orders, like he is someone special. The Badasah have used him before, but I wouldn’t use him again. He smells too like he slept in the rotten corner of a bazaar.
It’s all a big secret but I know you will keep your lips still. It’s about the dwarves. Here on Shelitan. Anyway must dash I’ll finish this another time, when I’m less busy.
Zartari’s Notes
The notes are a mish mash of scribbles and writings filling three old scrolls. These are all rough comments and idle doodles that make reading near impossible. They aren’t coded but they do refer to Zartari’s notebook, which must contain his documentary. Unfortunately the notebook isn’t here.
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The nailed crates contain pieces of pottery , small shards which have been chalked with numbers, numbers up to about 200.
The covered box contains what is left of their supplies. It includes several containers of fruit, and the usual imperishables, salt, strong spices and the like.
There are also 2 chests in the camp which as yet are untouched...
Fudrick looks at the group and says, "Here's what we need to decide. Do we finish preparing the camp for defense and wait for whatever is out there or head up to the dig site?" He points at the body on the table. "Whatever made those sucker like marks on him is out there. If it knows we are waiting for it then it may decide to go after the ones at the dig, if it hasn't already. I for one do not want to know we lost my cousin and his workers because we waited until daylight." He pauses for a moment in thought. "Yrar can you toss that body into the fire? I don't know what happened to the other corpse but if it started to walk again then this one will to. Let's burn it and then decide what we will be doing." As he turns to inspect the chests in the camp he calls back, "Make sure you search it good. He may have a clue or something we can use on whatever is out there."
Fudrick examines the chests as best as he can without opening them.
Roman Speaks Up, "Getting out of here does not rely on some miraculous combination of events happening or being observed, simply that some common sense is observed. Tactically moving in the evening, especially in the jungle is fool hardy at best, and it only gets worse the darker it gets, aside from Yrak, I don't think any of us can see in the pitch darkness, while I wouldn't doubt that it could. Also notice that it has been attacking people while isolated, alone. That suggests two things first that its smart of at least lucky, at least as smart as an animal, and probably smarter if it can think to follow, these guys," roman says Pointing at the monkey and elf " and strike only when someone sets foot into the scrum, even a little. the second thing it suggests is that the beast is not so strong as to be able to get the better of several armed men at once, or else it would of , and our little monkey friend wouldn't be here..." A flash of resignation crosses the half elfs face.
Looking at the Gnome somewhat compassionately, Roman continues "Furthermore, I think you all really abandoned the victims when you decided that the camp was more important to investigate than the scream no? No use crying over the winds or the currents, I say we start afresh in the morning after securing the camp. Althought of course I will defer to Yraks judgement, if nothing else his courage and ability have been proven. " a somewhat derisive look at the fallen gnome underscores my points about the very real issues that we all committed to when we came here as apposed to finding the source of the screams in the jungle.
Int/Decipher Script check: (1d20 4=17)
"Hm." Fazaam glances at Fudrick. "No offense to your cousin, but these notes are a mess. I don't think the scrolls themselves were blank before they were used. There are several references here to a hag or witch, the Chamber of Urns and some kind of language in silver. Sorry, That's all I can make of it." He says sincerely, handing the papers back to Fudrick.
He listens to the sea elf's unexpected speech, raising an eyebrow at his comments about screaming in the jungle.
"Well, I dare say I can probably see as well in the dark as your large friend here. The question is, do you know how far away the dig is from the camp? If we know we can get there and back in two hours, or even there before dark and encamp ourselves there, then is it worth the risk to save any others?"
He strokes his chin, "Of course, Yorall saw the men running back FROM the dig, carrying a body. Logic dictates that they are already well aware of the creature. And if they are still alive, and not here, then in it is because they are already holding a defensible position. THEN the question becomes, do we hole up here, or bravely race to try and join up with survivors? And as our seaweed loving friend here pointed out, even the creature seems to be aware that there is safety in numbers."
Fazaam grins. "And on THAT note, I have no intention of getting separated from anyone else on this accursed island! I'll stay with you lot, no matter your choice. But I always have been the 'Rush Forward' type!"
raising a arched eyebrow and a slightly angry and slightly amused expresion at "seaweed loving", Roman turns to Yrak and says "looks like it is up to you then, it appears as if the children need guidence to reason and survival" with a heavy eye towards the little folk and their new aquantance.
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Fudrick, the chest in the hut is of strong dark wood, mahogany, and it is bound with iron. It is only 1 foot high, 2 foot wide and about the length of a longsword. It has a deep lock and no key.
The chest under the shelter nearby is closed and padlocked, but it isn't a big only being about a two foot box.
Shulim isn't asleep, "If you two cannot decide, I could use the dagger?" He comes to his feet.
Roman spoiler
While Yrar is preparing the defenses he makes a point to walk close to Fazaam, “So, that monkey,” pointing to Hasan, “you talk to it? In all my time in the jungle, never talked to a monkey,” he says with a grunt as he looks over at Hasan and smiles, “Ate one or two … but never talked to one.” His smile disappears quickly and he gazes back at the Elf as his tone become more serious, “You mentioned the girl has a week. How long has it been already?”
"Yrar can you toss that body into the fire? I don't know what happened to the other corpse but if it started to walk again then this one will to. Let's burn it and then decide what we will be doing." As he turns to inspect the chests in the camp he calls back, "Make sure you search it good. He may have a clue or something we can use on whatever is out there."
Yrar nods and moves back into the shed. He vision falls over the body and a chill runs down his spine. He looks back momentarily to see if his companions notice this second of weakness. ’I really hate the dead’, Yrar thinks to himself as he remembers the incident in his past. He sticks his head outside, takes a deep breath, then reenters. Staying as far away as he can, he uses his maul to uncover the body and looks over the man. He does his best to follow Fudrick’s instructions while still keeping a distance.
Using his maul, he covers the body. To the best of his ability, he wraps the corpse up tight while attempting to not lay a hand on the body. Touching only the cover, Yrar starts dragging the body outside and toward the fire pit for disposal. When depositing the body into the fire, he makes every attempt to save the cover.
Looking at the Gnome somewhat compassionately, Roman continues "Furthermore, I think you all really abandoned the victims when you decided that the camp was more important to investigate than the scream no? No use crying over the winds or the currents, I say we start afresh in the morning after securing the camp. Althought of course I will defer to Yraks judgement, if nothing else his courage and ability have been proven. "
Yrar spins with momentary anger but lets it go and just grumbles, “You are right. Maybe we could have done something.” The Half-Orc pauses momentarily before restarting, “But then again, you and I seem acquainted with nature. We may have been able to do something, but this is not the land for our Gnome companions, and this jungle is unknown to us both.” Yrar shakes his head, “I am no leader, and my judgment is not worldly. If we are to survive, we need to work and think together. I have fought a solitary battle most of my life. Never a true victory.” His eyes go distant for a moment as if remembering, but they snap back quickly, “Roman, I appreciate your confidence in my abilities, but as you pointed out already, my judgment is not always best. You seem full of wisdom, so what you say, I listen to as well.”
Yrar puts his hands on his hips and scans his companions, his gaze eventually falling on Fazaam, “So you have been here. You have watched Zatari. With the daylight fading, do we have time to reach the dig sight before nightfall? If we do, I say we go. If not, we should stay, work to defend, and plan for a long night.”
“So, that monkey,” pointing to Hasan, “you talk to it? In all my time in the jungle, never talked to a monkey,” he says with a grunt as he looks over at Hasan and smiles, “Ate one or two … but never talked to one.” His smile disappears quickly and he gazes back at the Elf as his tone become more serious, “You mentioned the girl has a week. How long has it been already?”
Hasan squeaks and his eyes go wide as he sinks behind Fazaam. Fazaam laughs with Yrar, pretty sure that he is joking. He face betrays true emotion before he hides it once more behind his cavalier grin.
"Two days," He says grimly, "Plenty enough time to help your friends family, and return to rescue her!" HE forces a grin, "And I will! With or without Garyn." He finishes solemnly.
Fazaam watches Yrar as he disposes of the body, and contemplates the Sea-elf's words once more as Yrar talks to him.
“So you have been here. You have watched Zatari. With the daylight fading, do we have time to reach the dig sight before nightfall? If we do, I say we go. If not, we should stay, work to defend, and plan for a long night.”
Fazaam chews his lip for a moment, seeming to weigh options. Then he grins once more. "Well, it seems that Yoraal had been here before. The first day he took us to the dig site in case we needed to watch there. It took us at least an hour to get there. And it's a good hike. But we might make better time taking the trail. But it looks like we should have JUST enough time to get there and back before full dark. Or get there and dig in you'd rather.
"So, shall we go? I say taking the fight to the enemy beats waiting for the enemy to find us! Let us go to see if we can aid any survivors!" He cries, flourishing his rapier with an eager grin.
"If it takes us an hour, then there is still time to reach the site and help. I say we go."
Roman smiles at the half orc's modesty before clapping him on the back and saying "The true test of wisdom is knowing its limits, My Good Man Gnome and Elf see to the injured one and the chests, a sling or perhaps a stretcher could be jury rigged for either.
speaking to the half orc, Roman says " lets find anything useful and handy in the camp, and then make a plan how we are going to defend an injured gnome, and a fool while marching, That hammer of yours is impressive, but perhaps a ranged solution is possible" Looking at the fading light and the dense jungle foilage, roman sighs "or not, I swear its like the deep one made this place to the fit and measure of the maze forgetting only the solution..."
Fazaam pouts at Roman's words.
"Here now! I am many things, but I am NOT a fool! Well, most of the time anyway, everyone has an off day. However, While I do enjoy the challenge of combat mano-a-mano, I agree that keeping the beastie at bay is a good idea! And I happen to have my bow with me, so I can help in that at least." Fazaam proclaims happily, returning his rapier to his belt and unlimbering his short bow from where it is tied to his pack.
"SO,?" He asks, fitting an arrow to the string and testing the draw, "A quick check of the Chest and box to see if there is anything useful, and then a brisk hike?" He glances at the fading sunlight.
"Time, Tide, and it seems the sun, wait for no one." He grins, apparently impressed with his own cleverness.
Annoyed and injured, Shulim starts eating some rations.
"Look, I don't need a stretcher. But that dagger would be good," he comments.
Yrar looks to the sky seeing the dark flames float overhead before dissipating in the wind. “If it was unaware that we were here, it probably knows now. When we do find it, I hope it tastes good … second thought, seeing that explosion and that black blood, I‘m not eatin‘ it.”
Looking over at Shulim when he speaks while having a discussion with Roman, Yrar smiles, “Well, you heard the Gnome. He’s fit to walk. And someone give him that damn dagger already.” Looking back to Roman, “And no worries, if need be I can hit from a distance. I just like the sound my hammer makes.” Yrar then turns to everyone, “As the Elves both said in their own way, the sun leaves whether we like it or not. Let’s go.”
“In case we do not return, I’ll hold on to this coverlet. The stink of the dead did not ruin it, and it’s to valuable to leave.” Yrar folds it up and puts it in his pack. The Half-Orc walks over to the supply box and pulls out a few select pieces of fruit and bites deep into one with a crunch. Its sugary juices drip through his beard adding a glistening shine to the otherwise coarse hair. “Grab .. some … fruit … for … the … trip,” Yrar mumbles between bites of the tasty fruity. Once he swallows with an exaggerated movement of his head he continues, “who knows when we’ll eat next. If we run out of food we might have to eat the monkey. And trust me, they’re all bone,” he says with a smile and a glance at Hasan as he uses his gauntleted hand to pick at his teeth. Removing his hand, his smile disappears as he grumbles, “No matter how much potential food I kill.” Finished stuffing the fruit in his pack along with the coverlet, he closes his pack and puts it back on his back, “So we ready? Fazaam, lead the way.”
Fazaam watches the body suddenly combust, and the thick smoke rise into the evening air.
"Well," He comments to no one in particular, unless he is talking to the monkey. "That was,... unusual." His cavalier attitude and flippant smile failing to hide the keen focus of his gaze, which doesn't seem to miss a singe detail.
While Yrar claims the 'golden blanket' and stuffs his pockets, and face, with fruit, Fazaam wanders over to the Chest and wooden box/crate.
"Well Fudrick, with your permission, perhaps we should see if there is anything val, er, useful in these before we go?" Fazaam smiles engagingly. "I have no talent for locks, and no weapons large enough to do damage to such a heavy chest, but I bet I can get the lid off of this crate,..."
And he suits actions to words, using his Jambiyah to pry the lid off of the crate. Unlike his rapier, the curved dagger is plain, heavy and worn. The condition of the blade indicating it is used far more often for its current purpose than for battle.
“So we ready? Fazaam, lead the way.”
Fazaam nods, grins flippantly, and nocking an arrow to his shortbow, takes the lead. His tread is steady and elfish-ly light, but as he approaches the wall of wilderness, close observers might notice a flicker of uncertainty cross his fine-boned features. His monkey rides atop his pack, peering over his head like some strange hat.
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The heavy mahogany chest is left for now.
The other box in the shelter next to the hut, Fazaam tries to open it, but his dagger isn't strong enough to free the hasp and padlock. The box itself isn't that heavy and something is rolling around inside.
Every one and then it thuds against the flimsy wood.
Fazaam spoiler
Shulim takes the dagger from Roman or Fudrick, unless they kick up a fuss.
Then he goes over to the box, that Fazaam is having problems with and bends down. A few seconds later he gets up with the padlock in his hands.
Then he moves into the hut and the chest.
Seconds later there is a yelp from inside and Shulim staggers out with a black tipped dart in his throat.
"It was trapped!" he croaks.
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A log falls down the side of the fire and rolls out onto the camp ground.
Then the whole burning corpse dislodges more wood as it stands up and staggers out of the fire pit. One arm waves across the face of Shulim with a trail of oily flames following its progress.
Shulim ducks and weaves away towards the box and Fazaam.
The monster roars at the fleeing gnome,"OOwwwraaaa!"
Fazaam smiles his thanks to Shulim for opening the lock, and starts to cautiously open the crate as Shulim enters the Hut. He is startled as Shulim staggers back out, clutching his neck and muttering 'Trapped". He gets up to assist, when the burning body decides that it isn't comfortable on this pyre, and gets up.
Fazaam, glancing wistfully at his bow lying next to the crate, looks at the flaming, mobile, corpse and begins to grin. He takes a step to place himself ahead of the injured gnome, and cries, "My friend, you look like your burning up, here, let me help you cool down!"
Fazaam makes a simple gesture with his right hand, and a coating of frost seems to form on his hand, leaving a wisp of steam in the warm humid island air. He snaps his finger towards the flaming corpse, and cries "Thyrori!" as a pale, thin beam reaches from his outstretched finger towards the shuffling abomination.
Fazaam to hit:(1d20+3=16) and Dmg:(1d3=2)
Fazaam then whips his rapier from his waist, and holds it defensively before him. "Um, guys?" He calls, "I think I just annoyed it!"
Elvish:
Thyrori = 'Frostbite'
"I knew I should've smashed it," Yrar growls as he bounds up to the flaming undead corpse. "Man, I really hate the undead. I wish they would just die," he screams as he swings his maul.
Fudrick snaps his head around at the sound of the log tumbling out of the pit. He points and shouts, "IT'S COME ALIVE." As the others attack it with weapons and magic he readies his sling and let's loose a bullet. The bullet whistles through the air and strikes the undead menace square in the chest. Little bits of skin break off from the impact and black stinking blood oozes out of the small wound. Fudrick wringles his nose in disgust and readies another bullet.
Attack: Burning Undead Servant (1d20+2=17)
Damage: Burning Undead Servant (1d3=3)
Mr. Wolf:
Do you want me to do a timewarp post to cover the conversation up to this point? I did not realize this weekend would prove to be a popular choice to post. :) If not then we can move on from this point. Other than being a part of the conversation there was nothing major going on to be involved in. In which case Shulim can take the dagger as he said earlier. I had a really nice post of Fudrick getting mad at Roman for thinking we gave up on Zatari and the others.
Thanks for the great game so far.
Almost collapsing from pain, Shulim staggers away from the burning creature, his movements unsteady. The pain washing through his small frame making it hard to think, Shulim belated realizes he should be trying to help, but for some reason, he can't make that thought transform into action.
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Fudrick snaps his head around at the sound of the log tumbling out of the pit. He points and shouts, "IT'S COME ALIVE." As the others attack it with weapons and magic he readies his sling and let's loose a bullet. The bullet whistles through the air and strikes the undead menace square in the chest. Little bits of skin break off from the impact and black stinking blood oozes out of the small wound. Fudrick wringles his nose in disgust and readies another bullet.
Attack: Burning Undead Servant (1d20+2=17)
Damage: Burning Undead Servant (1d3=3)
Mr. Wolf:
** spoiler omitted **
Fudrick Spoiler
Fudrick bullet lands on the ground at the creature's fight, the attack going unnoticed.
The angry Roman smashes at the flame corpse hitting it solidly but again the creature seems intent on Yrar.
Seeing the injured gnome stagger for the edge of the clearing, Fazaam calls out,
"I wouldn't go too far friend, our mystery beast may be awaiting us. Here now you overgrown campfire!" He hollers, returning his full attention to the battle at hand.
Fazaam quickly reaches into his vest pocket and throws a powder into the air over his head. He quickly sketches another pattern in the air, ending with his hand facing palm out, and intones "Teiros Eisys!"
The powder instantly begins to sparkle, and instead of falling begins to spin around Fazaam like a whirlwind. In an instant it has whirled tighter and tighter until it has settled, completely covering both Fazaam and Hasan in a translucent second skin which glimmers faintly in the dimming light.
"Come on Hot Stuff, Let's see how you fare 'gainst an Elvish warrior!" He crows, moving sideways to line himself up opposite from Yrar across the flaming monstrosity. He bounces on his toes, grinning as he anticipates the attack to come.
Elvish Translation:
"Teiros Eisys!"= 'Mystic Armor'
Yrar's frustration grows after a few more swings and misses. Breathing heavy with spittle splattering out his mouth, the Half-Orc winds up ready to put all of his might into the next blow. "Lights out Fire Man!"
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"Weeeecaarrrrsss" shouts the creature at the blow.
The burning monster lifts one leg and kicks up between Yrar's, smacking into his nether regions a fiery foot.
Yrar, surprised that the fiery menace is still standing, momentarily doubles over from a blazing foot to his place of pride. He tries to bounce away, but his swing is too heavy. His movement carries him into the creature, setting the, already scarred, Half-Orc on fire. Yrar howls through the pain.
Fudrick gets a sick feeling in his stomach as he sees Yrar take a fiery blow below his belt. He quickly wonders, Can Half-Orcs have childern? As he shakes the thought from his head he spots something in the jungle. Yelling to his compratiots, "WATCH YOUR BACKS! I SAW A SHADOW OF MAN IN THE JUNGLE TO THE SOUTH. LETS DEAL WITH THIS BURNING PILE OF TRASH QUICKLY! Fazaam, Shulim keep clear of tall grass and jungle." As Fudrick finishes speaking he pulls his scimitar and shield out and moves to the burning undeads other side opposite of Roman.
Seeing Fudrick close in with the flaming creature, and Roman batter at it with his staff, Fazaam cannot control his eagerness any longer.
With a sudden burst of speed Fazaam lunges forward, racing on his toes. Hasan screaming with either delight or fright hanging onto Fazaam's ponytail for dear life.
As he reaches the creature, he lunges forward and lands in a perfect fencing pose, grinning, his rapier tip aimed for the creature's chest,...
Fazaam Rapier attack:(+3 weapon finesse, +2 flank, +2 charge): (ATT:1d20+7=16, DMG:1d6=3)