Zeetri considers climbing a tree, then decides that would look cowardly, and he wasn't sure that he could actually get up one of these trees. Instead, he moved behind a fallen tree to use it for cover, and lined up a shot.
"Alright everyone, places! I'll just let the time run out on the pit so that I can fire off a spell as soon as it ends. I'll count it down for everyone."
Moira moves around the pit so she and Ivar can flank the beast.
"Wish these owlbears weren't so aggressive!" Selja moves with Moira, getting ready to fight once the owlbear suddenly returned out of the magical pit.
;
"Oh, and I'll start singing once he starts coming up!"
Here's the spell I'll cast once they pit is done with the owl bear.
The elf princess gets her mage armor up and takes up an aggressive position, ready to strike with her blade when the owlbear suddenly arrives at ground level again.
The team has literally 24 seconds to prepare for the reemergence of the second owlbear. Everyone moves into position and readies to attack.
First, Zeetri lobs an arc of fire over the fallen tree.
Selja has her Blaine ready and swings into the strange creature, cutting a swath through feather and fur.
Ivar lays the poor beast to rest.
Moira lets her song trail off in an admiring decrescendo. "Ivar, you hit hard! I like that. Nice sparks, Zeetri! Phew, what a rush. Anyone know if owlbear feathers are worth anything? Maybe we can introduce them as an alternative currency in town."
"I truly don't know what to do with 'em."
"Go fer it--I think we'll take a rest when we get there."
Magical knack (+2 caster lvl, up to current HD)
Varisian tattoo (+1 caster lvl evocation)
Spell specialization (Burning arc casts two levels higher)
As a wizard, I am only 4th lvl, I 4d6. Magical knack gets it back to 5d6. Varisia tattoo gets it to 6d6 (since it's evocation). And finally, spell specialization bumps burning arc up two, to 8d6.
With that said, if I were to fall into thee pit, I was dead as a doornail!
Zeetri frowns at the aftermath of his spell, expecting it to have done more. After Ivar swings his axe into a bloody arc, he lets loose a low whistle. "Ivar! That was positively barbaric!"
After the discussion of feathers, "I don't see why we can't take the time to get our trophies!"
Plenty of time left in the day, and Ivar butchers the owlbears in the field.
Selja starts a fire, figuring to try cooking some of the meat.
Turns out owlbear's trickier to cook than she realized!
The temple ruins are a half days journey east of Belhaim. Let's say you're about half way there. Since you left Belhaim in the morning, you ha e plenty of time to get there and rest in the relatively safe comfort of Thaena's lair.
Moira says, "We might as well keep going, I think. We, uh, made friends with a lunar naga. Had we mentioned that? Her place is over the mummy's lair and, despite that, is a nice place to sleep."
She discusses the future encouragingly, trying to bolster the party's morale, as a bard will.
"It'll be fun to see if we can beat that mummy, right?"
Zeetri looks to the hide tossed to the side and realizes that Ivar does not know how to work leather.
I'm sure the big guy had people do that stuff for him. He does the killing and others do the crafting and cooking.
"It's out here, away from our people that we really start to grow as an individual, isn't it Ivar? We learn who we are, who we ain't, and who we want to be. Ivar, I think you've found a skill lacking in your arsenal. We should find someone to teach you to make trophies out of our kills. Or we get a camp follower. Heh."
As Moira opens up about the naga, Zeetri's mind is a bit blown.
"Not only do we get to destroy a mummy, but we get to meet a lunar naga? This is getting more and more interesting."
"The only craft I know is... calligraphy. Think that'll help at all? Maybe if we make some owlbear skins into parchment first? Cut some quills? OH wow now that's an idea."
Moira harvests a few quills for, well, quills.
"Heh, you should be limited to only writing angry monosyllabic statements with those quills"
Yup. I think I might stick around with this lot for a bit. They seem alright.
Selja sighs. "Yeah, the owlbear needs salt. And a lot more besides." She was rather disappointed with her work. "But maybe we'll get a bit o' the owlbear's strength by eating it. That's what my orc tribe would've believed, anyway."
She considers the battle ahead. "There's real evil down in the temple. Would be good to cleanse it. Maybe even reclaim it in Shelyn's name."
Moira gathers some quills for her legerdomain practice while Selja roasts some newly acquired owlbear meat. Waste not, want not, so they say. The group sits down for a well deserved lunch and take the opportunity to get to know each h other better and discuss the business at hand. Perhaps there is some mixed feelings amongst the camp regarding the mummy lord, fear mixed with worry mixed with excitement, even purpose. One thing is sure, salt is a hard to acquire seasoning in the deep inland forest.
Once tummies are well sated, they pack up and move on, reaching the nondescript hill in the midst of the woods well before sundown. Perhaps they pause to admire the ruined remains of what once was surely a marvel of prehistoric engineering from a long lost civilisation of serpentfolk, likely well established or perhaps already in decline by time Azlanti settlers reached these shores. Now simply a pile of rubble marks the pinnacle of a pyramidal structure now buried beneath the forest floor.
Eventually they crawl down through what looks like no more than an animal burrow and emerge into Thaena's lair. For the uninitiated, a large circular stone slab lies in the center of a crumbling chamber, being invaded by roots and soil from the forest above on all sides. It still being daylight outside, Thaena, a lunar Naga, lies coiled atop the stone altar. Her eyes are wide open, but those familiar with the abomination can advise that she is, indeed, asleep.
Zeetri looks at Thaena wondrously for a few moments before he decides that staring at the sleeping figure was creepy. Especially with her eyes wide open like that. What if she could see him staring at her while she was sleeping?
"Well, I don't know much about our esteemed host, but I don't suppose I would be too keen on being woken up. Also, once we descend into the tomb, or whatever it is, daytime/night time loses it's meaning. I say we rest here so that we can confer with Thaena before tackling the mummy."
Tearing his eyes away from the Lunar Naga, he begins to look around at his surroundings and his fellow companions.
Lizard is busy sniffing around the edges of the lair, periodically thrusting forward, shoving his snout into a recess.
Moira grins. "I was hoping someone would suggest writing a note!"
She whips out her writing kit and, wielding a comically large quill, starts filling a sheet of parchment with a flowing, trained hand.
She looks a little disappointed with herself. "Gotta get used to these big quills, I guess."
But the note itself isn't entirely inelegant. In it, she explains that the party has returned with reinforcements to take on the mummy lord.
"Shall I leave it? I am ready to keep going myself, but then, I haven't used any spells today. Except for the one, but we don't need to talk about it."
Is that an impish glance cast in Zeetri's direction?
Zeetri finds the chamber is littered with the bones of vermin. On the walls, through the clutter of eons of dirt and moss, are visible carvings depicting strange and alien constellations. Thaena had explained that this temple served as an observatory of sorts, and the stars looked quite different in the sky when the Serpentfolk ruled Golarion.
Moira pens a note for Thaena. The owlbear quill feels unnatural in her hand, but in the end, the letter is clear and straight forward, the prose dry and objective, and the penmenship is average. Not a bard's finest, but it gets the point across.
The group descends the stairs in pursuit of Lord Soma the Mummy Lord. On the way down, they encounter trouble.
Zeetri smiles somewhat awkwardly and nods along with Moira.
What spell is she talking about? What am I missing? It's something good, I can tell.
Seeing that Zeetri doesn't seem to get the gist, Moira nudges him and whispers, [b] "We won't talk about how the only spell I've cast all day is the one that kept you from falling into your own owlbear pit..." [b]
"Oh yeah, the owl bear pit. That was pretty good."
Gah! That was stupid. She wasn't flirting, she was teasing. And did she cast a spell to pull me away from the pit? It felt like I just scrambled back in my own.
"sigh"
"It would have been a tricky thing, but I have a trick up my sleeve too: a spell that gives people a second chance. I just have to stop singing/playing drums/what-have-you. Trading inspiration for security. *Sighs* Too many artists make that trade too often, but I'll always be willing to trade a song for a chance to pull one of you back from the brink. Even if you're the one who walked up to the edge."
She is ready to go--pack on, Light cast on her hat's buckle and casting her face in deep shadow (but illuminating the way ahead), sword and buckler at the ready.
"How 'bout Ivar in front, supported by Turante and Selja? You look like you can take a punch or two, big guy. Zeetz in the middle, where I can keep an eye on you. I'll take rearguard. Or do you want back, Selj?"
Leaving Thaena's lair, the group continues to descend down into the buried temple through a spiral stone staircase. First, they pass through a chamber which has been collapsed in on all sides, earth and roots nearly clogging the space. The floor below is a square room, still a tight space, with alcoves on each wall containing small stone altars. Bas relief carvings in the masonry behind each altar depict images related to the mythos and prophecy of Serpent God Ydersius. The northern altar depicts Ydersius at the height of his power and glory, with head still attached he reigns over the continents of the world. The western altar depicts his fall, the moment the Azlanti champion Savith cast his decapitated head into a lake of fire. The southern altar depicts Ydersius’ headless body enthroned in the darkness of the underworld. The eastern altar depicts his prophesied ascension, the moment his head is reunited with body.
As they pass through this chamber, a hissing noise is heard in the shadows as two spider-like creatures drop from the ceiling onto the unexpecting party! Eight-legged monstrosities stare ravenously at our heroes through three beady eyes, green venom dripping from gaping maws.
These creatures are known as Shriezyx, horrific spider-like aberrations created by ancient wizards. They are known to lurk in the deep, dark, recesses of the world.
"WHAT THE HELLS ARE THOSE?!? Aww hecks there's one behind us."
Moira collects herself and starts singing her favorite anti-spider song, her voice dropping into a terrifying roar.
"Look, he's crawling up my wall
Black and hairy, very small
Now he's up above my head
Hanging by a little thread
Boris the spider!
Boris the spider!"
She raises her buckler and waits for the beast's attack...
ooh, just enough room.
Zeetri touches his thumbs together, spreads his fingers out, and leans just past Moira as frigid ice leaps out from his hands!
+ entangle for 1 round (no save)
Whew! I think that is it. Welcome to Wizardry 101. I'm still early in my coursework.
The spiderish creature avoids some of the icey blast, but ends up entangled in frost.
I'm sure Selja will want to conserve her spells for the mummy lord, so she backs away from one of the creatures and slashes with her glaive.
Her swing lacks the force to carry through.
Túrante swings for the same one.
Chitinous carapace blocks both blades!
Túrante takes a step back.
The first monster bites and scratches at Moira!
The frost saves Moira from a poisonous bite, but here come the claws!
The full attack is ineffectual.
The second monster goes after .
Only one claw gets through to Ivar!
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As her fearsome new allies strike fiercely at the spider foes, Selja goes after one of the nasty arachnids once more!
;
Fangs ping off her buckler, and somehow her chainmail fouls up the rest of the beast's claws.
Moira shivers a little--whether at the cold of Zeet's zap or in amazement that she's unscathed after that attack, she's not sure. But she sure as hecks doesn't stop singing.
"BOOORRISSS!"
She swings her sword down at the beast:
Gore flies across the room to splat onto Zeetri's back from the other side of the room. "Hey! I thought you guys had edged weapons, not hammers!"
Having already burned through three spells today, and knowing there is a mummy coming up yet, Zeetri falls back into his Cantrips. He fires a blast of cold at the same Spider .
"I'm sure these things are about dead anyway."