Saersha nodded and said, "On the undead you are correct, though I am not entirely sure on the more intelligent ones...I believe there are ways around the problem but not that I can access at this..." Saersha hesitated and then said, "Actually there might be a way around that after all. I need to see if I can find a particular metamagic rod that bypasses that issue. It would be of limited use on any given day but could be extremely useful."
Does it look like this? Ulfr pulls out one of his smaller iron-bound clubs with a smile. I hear a spell called Unadulterated Violence works on just about anything!
"Yeah, hopefully we don't find ourselves making enemies of any self-willed undead," suggests Azura. "Our usual enticements and enchantments will be unlikely to affect them, so it'll just be bang-pow."
"Speaking of usual enchantments, maybe since the Runelord of Greed had a focus on transmutation, perhaps while we are there we can find some magic to help Embyr with those fuzzy features, if that's wanted?" Azura suggests.
Ulfr thinks for a moment. You know, that could be a pretty good way to be in the city without arousing too much attention. It's be a whole lot better than walking in and starting to ask everyone loudly about where a massively powerful ancient artifact is.
One of Embyr's hands reaches up to touch one of her cat ears. "...I suppose that'd be a good cover story."
"And who knows--we might find something like that rod where we're going."
Saersha nodded and said, "On the undead you are correct, though I am not entirely sure on the more intelligent ones...I believe there are ways around the problem but not that I can access at this..." Saersha hesitated and then said, "Actually there might be a way around that after all. I need to see if I can find a particular metamagic rod that bypasses that issue. It would be of limited use on any given day but could be extremely useful."
With the team reassembled, it seems as good a time as any to talk to your Pathfinder contact-and-romantic-interest about the next step, and Sheila Heidmarch does have something to say on that matter. Seated in her comfortable sitting room, with tea or other beverages brought in for the early afternoon, you enjoy the seasonable warmth of the day while the veteran Pathfinder eagerly listens to your plans.
Saersha presents Sheila with a fairly vague explanation of the impulse toward Kaer Maga, to which the venture-captain says, "You're in luck! There's another Pathfinder—well, former Pathfinder, thanks to politics—in Kaer Maga. His name is Eando Kline, so if you can make contact, he might be able to help you navigate the city. Kaer Maga is, after all, a seething cauldron of various competing interests and people living in total anarchy. Asking random inquiries is unlikely to acquire much except trouble, and we can't just wait for the shards that you currently have to send another vision; we don't know when that might happen or how clear it will be."
"I'd like to get this trip on the road sooner rather than later. The more shards we collect, the more that it will attract the attention of other people. Someone else will stumble across one and there'll eventually be a confrontation. The more we have, the stronger our chances of completing this!"
Sheila takes a sip of tea, then brushes back an errant strand of hair and says, "I can use my connections to help arrange travel. Usually, people going from Magnimar to Kaer Maga go up the Yondabakari River, taking donkey-drawn barges, then go under the Halflight Path and finally to the top of the Storval Rise. This is a journey of at least two months, and it's not without hazards, so if you need to stock up on food and traveling supplies, now's the time. I can probably arrange something a bit quicker and more discreet with my Pathfinder connections."
Now, it's up to you all to decide how you want to handle this—do you have final tasks in the city that might take a few days, or are you ready to head out as soon as Sheila can make the traveling arrangements?
"I think a day or so should be enough for any gear or preparations we'll need before setting off. Since speed is key here, I think we'll all be ready to set off with whatever options are available that would get us there the soonest." Ryn replies as they all consider any last minute needs.
How much gold do we have again? I might be able to get our gear enchanted for half price. I know a guy who owes me a favor. Ulfr purposes.
Saersha was pleased at how things were going. They had a new contact in Kaer Maga who could help them deal with things there, travel had already been arranged, now it was just time for the final preparations. She looked at Ryn and Ulfr as they spoke of getting things enchanted and said, "Don't forget that I can help with that some, at least with various wonderous items anyway. The only possible problem is anything necromancy or transmutation related I would need someone to cast the spells for me to craft anything with those properties.
"I know a lot of merchants back when i was well still in favor with my family. If you all need something, let me know, I still have contacts with a lot of the merchants in the city."
He smiled and nodded to the others glad ot be of help. It wouldnt take long to pack for the trip. As little as he knew what was going on.
Azura says, "I'm sitting on some cash but I still can't afford the things that I could really use. I'll just keep collecting coins in the meantime!"
Sheila says, "We can spare a few days for you to take care of additional business. Once you're ready to go, let me know and I'll introduce you to your transportation."
At the appointed date, Sheila tells you, "I've arranged for a trip upriver with a somewhat unusual contrivance. A halfling riverboat pilot named Othlo Janke is willing to take you upriver on his boat, the Lucky Jenny. It's a magically-propelled paddleboat, so much faster than the donkey-drawn barges that normally go upriver. He tells me that his boat can go up to 30 miles in a day, and since it's magical, it never tires and there's no worries about donkeys on shore being suddenly eaten by monsters while they're pulling the boat. Captain Othlo is ready to take you whenever you're ready to go. If his boat is as fast as he says it is, you should be able to reach the outskirts of Kaer Maga in two weeks. Any questions?"
"Well that's certainly an exciting start, setting off on a magic powered boat." Ryn says with a genuine glimmer of excitement.
Once packed and ready to go, you head to the riverfront and, with Sheila's help, eventually find the dock with the Lucky Jenny. The boat is a 60-foot-long flat-bottomed barge, blunt-nosed and blocky, with a hefty forecastle boasting several rooms and a low-slung cabin aft.
The ship's captain, Othlo Janke, is a scruffy, weathered, middle-aged halfling man. He wears a wide-brimmed hat and a collared shirt but still has the apple-red cheeks that one acquires from windblown exposure to the constant reflected sun on the river. Accompanying him are three halfling riverboat sailors, who occasionally chatter to one another in the halfling language and mostly stay out of your way as you move your luggage onto the boat.
Othlo proves to be garrulous. "Welcome aboard the Lucky Jenny," he says, "glad to have y'all. She's named for my favorite donkey who used to pull her upriver, afore I had the paddlewheel enchanted and installed. The Pathfinder society's paid yer fee, an' I understand we'll be goin' all the way to Kaer Maga. Since Jenny c'n make fifty miles in a day, we don't bother trying to pilot at night—dangerous anyway, you'll hit snags and sandbars—but I like to pull up to shore and set up camp on land when we stop. You'll still get there faster than a donkey-pulled barge!"
He points to the large forecastle and says, "There are cabins in the fore, so pick yourself out a room for your luggage. You're free to stay aboard, or camp ashore when we pull up for the night. Usually I transport cargo or halflings, though, so uh... you may be a little tall for the layout. Mind your head!"
The halfling stewards help to stow your luggage and you take up spots on the boat, mostly just lounging amidships as the ceilings on the cabins are so low (being halfling-sized) that the only thing you can do in them is lie down.
"Weigh anchor and engage the wheel!" shouts Othlo to his boaters, who scramble about to push the boat off. With a lurch the Lucky Jenny pushes away from the dock as the paddlewheel engages, and starts making good time up the sluggish Yondabakari river.
With a strand of grass in the side of his mouth, Othlo meanders over to the team and says, "First major stop will be the town of Wartle. It's a swamp town, all built on stilt. Not much to see unless you really like a good pot of crawfish. First week or so will mostly be in the Mushfens. Can't recommend the climate, and you fancy ladies probably will want to stay aboard as it's mostly muddy ground, but it's a safe enough trip, for the most part."
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He was mostly quiet on the way to the docks, in truth he had been quiet since that fiasco in the arena. The idea he needed to be tested was absolutely absurd. The accomodations of the riverboat were apalling. He frowned at the sound of camping on the shore. Were they not taking this contraption to avoid those dangers.
with a sigh he nodded to his Manservent Neville. He had told the old man he wouldnt be coming along with on this trip. The old fool had been moping ever since. The truth was, He wasnt sure if he would be back. He had arranged for a letter and some coin to come the old fool's way if he didnt send the appropriate message to the courier company in 2 months time. He looked at the group and shook his head slightly. He had hoped for a different reception when he had shown back up.
Ryn treated him like he was still the diseased lecher.... though in her defense the twins had both disapeared when he did and she had been getting close with Marinah. But he though Ulfr would have been in a little better of a mood when he arrived.... then again he glanced at the mans muscles that had muscles and looked at his sleek frame sleek frame and he sighed. At least the others were fun to look at, though no doubt just as dangerous.... no no he would keep his eyes and his hands to himself and just focus on his mission.
When the halfling owner mentioned Wartle his nose scrunched up. The very name of the swamp town made his nose wrinkle in a premature distaste. It was going to be a smelly town, he just knew it.
Ryn smiles as she watches the efficiency and obvious camaraderie of the halfling crew, assured that at least the sailing part of the trip wouldn't be a problem.
Thought the rooms were definitely not built to accommodate them, there would definitely be times where it was to their benefit to sleep on the boat, but she anticipated many nights spent under the stars on this trip.
She chuckles at the captain's comment about fancy ladies avoiding the mud. The were after all Pathfinders, and while she had no doubt Searsha would prefer not to get dirty...not with actual dirt anyway...Azura would, if necessary, though she might have a few choice quips about it, and she knew that Embyr could be just as comfortable wading through a muddy pit, or muck filled streets as she was, whatever it took to get the job done.
She was willing to bet that Trendon would be a lot more displeased about the swampland, than the "fancy ladies."
Looking over at him she sighed. He was actually a pretty decent person, she almost felt bad about not going a bit easier on him in the pit, skilled with magic and music, much like Azura was, but spoiled as all nine hells. He kind of reminded her of some of the young nobles she'd seen among the crowd 'slumming' it during her early pit fights. All liquored up and thrilled to see some violence, until one of them got blood splashed on their expensive clothes, and either had a meltdown, or fainted.
Though Trendon was clearly made of sterner stuff than that. As far as she was concerned, if you could take a broken nose like a warrior, then you were worth drinking with at the very least, and he'd proven himself well beyond that.
"So...hot and humid?" she asks the captain as he describes the atmosphere of Wartle.
Othlo pulls a piece of straw out of his mouth and drawls, "Ehh... it's not always really hot. Usually humid, though. Mostly stilt-builtings for trappers and peat-farmers. There are a few brothels, if you're in for that, and one precarious tavern called th' Lean-To. Really not much to see. But at least it's safe harbor."
"Speakin' of safe harbor. Occasionally there are gar of unusual size in the river. Lucky Jenny is too big for them to knock her over, but you might feel the occasional bump. There are other things along the riverbanks, sometimes lizardfolk, boggards, that sorta thing. Obviously don't follow bobbing lights out into the swamps. When we break for the night I rec'mend staying close to the campfire on shore."
The river is placid at this stretch, but the endlessly-spinning paddlewheel moves with a slight squeaking sound as it pushes through the water. Magnimar slowly fades into the distance while the banks at this stretch are covered in small docks and farms, though these start to become smaller and sparser as the distance widens. Occasionally a farmer or child will gawk for a few moments at the passing magical boat, but this close to Magnimar, such sights are not as uncommon as they might be in a more remote area of the continent.
Othlo returns to managing his ship, helping with steering and directing his boaters to secure various lines and check for sandbars. All of the crew's communication is in the halfling language. The little stout riverboaters seem mostly interested in staying out of the party's way.
Saersha was intrigued with the boat when they reached it. She'd never actually been on it's like and the concept intrigued her. The places they would be traveling and the way the captain wanted to handle stopping at night made sense to her though Saersha had to agree that she was not going to sleep in the muck. She felt certain a large enough patch of floor could be found to lay out a bedroll.
Once they were on their way Saersha began to study the boat, particularly the enchantments involved in making the whole thing function. She would occasionally joy down notes of her observations, and at one point she caught the captain when he had time and asked, "So how did you get the idea for a boat like this and how does it all work?"
Ulfr takes one look at the cabins and just knows that they aren't going to work. Not even close. In fact, the scale of the boat in general makes him look even larger than normal. It takes a while to find a good spot for him to settle down without getting in anyone's way, or causing the boat to list slightly in one direction or another due to his weight. In the end he's told (by a rather huffy halfling crewman) to just "plant yerself in d'midships dere an dunna move too much".
Ulfr obeys... mostly, but one can only sit amidships and think for so long. He wanders the ship, slowly and carefully for a few minutes before being chased back by the steerage hands. The shallow bottom boat doesn't exactly have a lot of draw and therefore not a lot of ballast, after all, so any time he spends too far to one side tends to rock the boat. Literally.
Eventually he finds a happy medium where he can wander the central area of the ship and for or aft, as long as he doesn't go too far to the sides. In exchange for this more minor inconvenience, the deck hands negotiate travel songs from the Skald. And so, for several hours after lunch, the slow trip upstream is accompanied by Ulfr and his drums.
Azura takes a seat in the middle of the boat and lays down a blanket there, then sets up her pack and uses it to hold up a parasol so that she can sit in some shade. "Anyone bring a deck of cards?" she asks with a chuckle. Once Ulfr settles down and starts drumming, she rocks slightly back and forth and simply enjoys the relaxation of the slow river and the rhythm.
I have a deck of cards,some dice, and some dominoes. If you get bored later."
He answered Azura as he watched Ulfr amusing back and forths on the ship. He paid attention mostly to crew working and he watched the side of the river.
I have a deck of cards,some dice, and some dominoes. If you get bored later."
He answered Azura as he watched Ulfr amusing back and forths on the ship. He paid attention mostly to crew working and he watched the side of the river.
"Oh! I've never learned dominoes. I would love to learn if you can be patient with me. I've seen the game but never played and I don't know how it works," says Azura to Trendon eagerly.
To Saersha, the halfling captain says, "Been tradin' on the river for near on twenty years now. Back in th' day my barge was drawn upriver by donkeys—the current name Lucky Jenny comes from my favorite donkey, the gods keep her soul. It's a slow and tedious process, an' you have to carry food for the donkeys and rest them now and again. The magic paddlewheel? That was in trade for passage for a magician in a hurry. Fellah needed to get somewhere fast, so he used magic to bind some kind of power to the gearwheel to make it spin. All we have to do is throw the shift lever to engage the gear an' the paddlewheel goes and goes and goes... and by switchin' gears we can go backward, too, if we need to pull off a sandbar or somethin'. Anyway, the fellah used his magic to make the paddlewheel run for his whole trip, an' he was so thankful about making it to his destination quickly that he came back and enchanted th' mechanism for me later. I don't rightly know how long it'll work, maybe forever!" Othlo chuckles and rubs his stubble-strewn chin. "Gotta say, it's a huge time saver, plus no more trouble with takin' care of donkeys."
Meanwhile, Ulfr finds that thanks to its great size, the barge is fairly resilient against capsizing. It's sixty feet long, after all. Still, his bulk does make it shift notably when he leans at one of the edges. He can probably lean up against the railing around the sides without risking actually flipping the boat, but for anyone who doesn't have their "sea legs" the sensation of vertigo is noticeable as the boat lists ever so slightly.
The boat moves constantly, at a placid rate but much faster than a typical pulled barge. The day passes to noon and a casual luncheon, then to a languid afternoon. You occasionally see other boats going up or down river, and a few casual travelers along the riverbanks. As a change of pace from the hectic and uncertain life of adventuring, this quiet trip is a sedate journey, one that gives lots of time for reflection and relaxation... and perhaps boredom, if one is not otherwise prepared to stay occupied.
In the midafternoon one of the halfling boaters retrieves a set of fishing tackle and then, hanging his tiny legs over the edge of the boat, starts dragging a line for fish in the river. This proves to be quite successful, as a great many colorful and sleek fish live in the depths of the river, and soon the halfling is tossing fish into a bucket, while occasionally throwing back ones that are too small or of types that aren't good to eat.
As the afternoon turns to evening the sun sets in a blaze of glory and Othlo looks for a likely spot to park the boat overnight. The halfling seems to know the river very well indeed. He barks a few words to his crew and they start moving the barge toward the shore on your right side. Soon as the barge comes around a twist in the river, you see a berm on the right with a sliding slope on the edge nearest you, a large tree in the middle with some roots sticking out of the side of the berm over the river, and a large patch of dry ground with a small circle of low bushes surrounding it.
"Been up and down long enough to know th' best places to pull aside," Othlo says. "I've camped here many a night. We just push the ship up onto the slope there and then we can camp atop the berm. There's enough flat ground under the tree for tents and the like and for a little campfire. If it rains, the water just drains down the side of the berm into the river."
He adjusts his hat and says, "Plenty of good spaces along the river if you know it well enough. A bit harder once we get into the mire, though. Usually pretty muddy."
Once you set up your tents and bedrolls, the berm essentially becomes a tiny village. A circle of stones becomes a merry campfire, and the ring of bushes give you a little cover from outside. You don't have to drag the barge onto shore as the paddlewheel simply pushes it up onto the riverbank and then Othlo throws the lever to disengage the gear and stop its motion, with the intention of backing it out on the following day. The halflings tie it to some of the local bushes to keep it from sliding off in the event of heavy rain or mudslides. The halflings then set up their own small tents and one of them climbs up into the tree to place some canvas between the branches, giving cover in case of rain overnight. Sure enough, about an hour after sunset, when you are all enjoying some hot food—and Othlo keeps his larder well-stocked with sausages, cheeses, nuts, and fresh fruits, as well as a large pot of flour that he uses to make fresh biscuits over the fire—a light rain picks up. With the tree cover your camp stays dry and a small stream of water trickles down into the river, running off the side of the berm. The cool night air and warm food at the end of a relaxing day leaves a feeling of fulfilment and a much more casual sense of cozy travel that leads into peaceful, restful sleep.
As the sun rises the next morning you feel quite refreshed. Passing around a broad wooden bowl of rainwater, you wash the night's dust from your faces and Othlo and his crew pull the boat back onto the river, then steer it back into the main river and on to continue your journey.
Once breakfast and morning clean-up is complete, the Lucky Jenny sets out once more. Soon the riverbanks become overgrown with riotous wild plant life and the air becomes a bit more humid. Tangled roots and leaves choke parts of the river, and Othlo and his boaters have their hands full steering the barge around mossy rocks and chunks of plant debris. Clouds of annoying insects become more common. The terrain gives way to the Mushfens, the swampy lowlands of the river.
The Mushfens proves to be singularly unpleasant, but at least survivable. Othlo's boaters place small censers of burning incense around the barge, which helps to keep the insects at bay. The Lucky Jenny continues implacably, and since you don't have to do any work for the trip, it's just a matter of keeping shaded so that you don't burn due to reflected sunlight off the water's surface. Leaves and branches swirl through the muddy depths of the river, and occasionally tributaries join it. Othlo knows the area well and always seems to know where to avoid logjams and muddy traps.
As the Fens become more overgrown, you see more signs of lizards, birds, and amphibians. You hear the noise of frogs and toads, and a few times see a giant frog hopping away in the distance. It wouldn't surprise you to see an alligator. Small, drab bird flourish in the reeds, feeding on the plentiful insects and building mud homes along the riverbanks.
Eventually the ship stops for another night, with Othlo pulling up onto a tangle of tree roots that are elevated above the river. The mass of mangrove-like roots retain moss-covered soil that makes for comfortable ground, and there's even a cleared circle in the middle that shows that Othlo's camped here before—he has a regular firepit already circumscribed with small stones.
After a few more stories and a reasonable supper you drift off to sleep, with the censers still providing a smoke that keeps the insects at bay.
It is late in the night, some time after midnight, when the rushes rustle in the wind and the frogs croak quietly. Ulfr is on watch, warmed by the tiny campfire, keeping an eye out for interlopers, and indeed he spots some... a group of creeping frog-like humanoids, just at the edge of the shadowy firelight.
Round 1
Ulfr stands and growls. It's a rumbling, threatening noise like distant thunder. He slowly walks towards the little creature, interposing himself between it and the camp. Don't you try it, little froggie.
The "little froggie" seems alarmed by Ulfr's advance and almost falls over backward in its scramble to get away from him.
Azura stirs from her sleep and sits up with a "Hmm? What's that?"
[Dice=perception] 1d20+3
Trendon wakes up to catch the sound of Ulfr bellowing something, and glancing around, he can easily spot these medium-sized frog-humanoids approaching the encampment with apparently hostile intent. They're armed (spears), though the one that Ulfr growled at is backing up now.
"What in the nine hells are those things!"
He called out right after quickly casting an enchantment a burst of glittering light popping over the two closest frogmen.
A burst of golden glitter flares out over two of the frog-people, one of which stumbles about blindly. The other seems quite demoralized by this, in addition to the intimidation from Ulfr.
Saersha found the idea behind the way the paddle worked to be intriguing and studied the effect off and on during their travels to see if it was something she could duplicate. She suspected it wasn't, likely there was magic involved she couldn't cast herself, but that didn't mean it was impossible.
While their camp was crude and had little privacy Saersha and Embyr could still be heard in the mornings having a good time and neither commented on any of the looks they received from those around them. By now her friends knew this was a regular thing between the two so it likely meant little to them.
When the night of the frog men came Saersha and Embyr were sound asleep in their shared tent.
But Saersha, at least, was completely oblivious to what was going on, sound asleep while wrapped around her maids body inside their bedroll.
Azura shakes Ryn awake.
The demoralized frog-person hops away! On land it's not very fast, but it goes as quickly as it can.
The blinded one rubs its eyes and blinks hard several times and finally seems to regain its bearings.
The two other creatures breathe in and then let out terrifying, incredibly loud croaks that echo through the swamps! The halflings flee up onto the boat at the noise.
A frog-person in a dripping leather aptron, holding a bony morningstar and wearing a reedy crown and a silver-clasped belt, joins the fray from the bushes to the east. This one makes a series of strange burping inhalation sounds and a glowing whip appears adjacent to Ulfr. It lashes out at the warrior immediately.
The whip catches Ulfr by surprise and he barely manages to duck losing an eye as it snaps in his face!
At the same time, a tremendous dragonfly, easily almost six feet long and with correspondingly massive wings, comes buzzing out of the swamp with the toad-people and darts up to bite Ulfr with incredible speed and maneuverability.
This attack, Ulfr manages to ward off.
But he's unable to land a blow on the dragonfly as it flies back away at great speed.
Round 2
Party's up! The sounds of fighting are close enough that Saersha's prior perception roll causes her to wake up now, as does Embyr. Everyone should be awake; Ulfr is standing up.
Ulfr has taken 16 damage from the spiritual weapon.
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[dice=Will]1d20+3
[dice=Will]1d20+3[dice=Shaken for]1d4
"Wha... hey love...I.." Ryn trails off as everything filters in through the fog of sleep. She quickly grabs her boots, pulling them on as she runs through the situation.
The croaking roar that washes over them all is an absolute assault on the senses, the sound utterly terrifying, though she manages to shake off the worst of it. "Damn it! I'm gonna go help Ulfr, try to hang back if you can, we can really use your voice to counter that awful roar!" she says, quickly jumping up, a look of intense focus crossing her face as she sets into a stance, ready to dash into battle in just a sift, with only her shield for protection.
Staying low he low crawled to Ulfr and reached out casting a spell of shielding other and reaching out to touch Ulfr.
[dice=knowledge local dc 12] 1d20+5
"Boggards! Frog folk! Excellent swimmers. created by a demon god, go figure."
Saersha stayed sound asleep through the fighting right up until the boggarts croaked.
The sound tore Saersha from her pleasant, lust filled, dreams and back into cold reality. She sat up in a hurry and unwrapped herself from Embyr before rising to her feat. Saersha reached a hand down to Embyr to help her up so they could join the fight as she said, "I think we're having frog legs form the next few days." She didn't know they were boggarts bnly that they sounded like frogs.
Azura crawls out of her bedroll, touches a fallen branch, and hums a low, simple note. The branch gives off light for those who don't have darkvision.
Ulfr takes a deep breath and lets out an angry bellow of his own, enough to match the deep-throated ripping croaks of the toad-people. He pounds his chest with his fist as he sets into an angry sea-battle shanty and hefts up his club, then he ignores the spiritual weapon and moves to engage the foes!
The spiritual whip follows Ulfr and lashes out at him again.
The whip snaps at his back, but Ulfr continues on, heedless!
The boggard priest casts another spell, croaking and calling down a malevolent sensation of an angry god watching the battle.
Boggards move to surround Ulfr, hoping to bring down the raging skald with a barrage of uncoordinated attacks.
Even with his guard somewhat down, Ulfr is untouchable to these peons—for the moment.
The dragonfly makes a fast line and then swoops sideways to take a bite at Ryn as she gets up from putting her boots on.
Luck is still with the party, though!
Round 3
"Ouch! that stung a bit forgot how that works that way."
He growled out as he arched his back where the phantom pain erupted as part of the damage magically shifted from Ulfr to him. Feeling the wave of dark magic roll over him he grinned. His god was still with him and he would make that foul frog pay for trying to channel the divine powers against him. With an aggressive and almost comical yell he charged at the boggard cleric withdrawing his sword from the cane in his hand and slashing hard at the monster.
The slim hidden blade crackled with electric energy as he struck at the frog cleric.
Ryn explodes into action, launching a devastating barrage on the giant dragonfly, smashing it with her shield, then a vicious uppercut, before using the rising momentum to launch herself into a spectacular backflip that kicks the insect out of the air.
Ulfr grunts as he is hit, but his rage is in full swing and be barely feels his wounds. He targets the one on his left and brings his club down with terrible purpose and gruesome results.
Ulfr's greatclub comes down and smashes the skull of the boggard to his left, leaving it reeling. It staggers away and then collapses in a heap, unconscious. Trendon's strike forces the boggard-priest to parry quickly and it is pushed back in the mud by the force of the blow. Ryn manages to bash the giant dragonfly in the face and it buzzes angrily.
Embyr scrambles out of the tent and loads her hand crossbow.
[ooc]Saersha is up still!{/ooc]