Quara's song turns into a roar of pain -- and then into a roar of bloodlust! Golden eyes blazing with fury, the tiefling lashes out at the abomination trying to feast on her. "Foul, reeking freak!" she howls as she chops at the ghoul as if it were a piece of wood for the fire.
Penta drops her bow and goes to her hips. She races closer while her two whips unfurl, coming to life with fluid movements like snakes dancing. “Concentrate on one at a time! Destroy the weakest one, first!” She yells over the din of battle. The war priests eyes roll in the back of her head as a quick prayer strengthens her resolve. With a flick of her wrist, she aims for the legs of the least damaged ghoul in her range.
The undead tearing strips of flesh from Arven's body is almost more than I can stand. Knowing that another weakening ray will not affect the undead filth, I fall back to one of my preferred offensive spells. From my outstretched hand, a ray of glittering motes of ice leaps towards one of the monsters.
Batango surveys the scene, feeling at a loss; he does not often find himself in predicaments to which he has to answer or response to. The sudden arrival of the whip-wielding woman was certainly strange - fortuitous and convenient...interesting. The witch throws his crossbow into the mud, realizing that it is about as useless as his spells. He draws his knife and ponders for a moment on what to do. Quara is being attacked, but Arven looks worse off. Not that his knife would do much, nor did he have much strength to put behind it. Still, he reasons that Quara, like himself, can heal to some degree, so logic decides his actions.
He moves, cutting a wide circle around Quara and the ghoul, coming up behind the undead fiend in attempts to slash it.
AttacK;
Damage:
Confirm:
Damage:
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Round 3 continued
Seeing Arven at the ghouls' mercy, A'vandira summons an offensive spell. She hurls it at one of the ghouls, transforming it into a ray of frost. It hits the woman with the torn dress, coating her chest and face in a thick sheen of frost. The ghoul stops dead, and keels over like a stone. A frozen stone.
Batango changes tactics and draws his knife. Rounding on the ghoul attacking Quara, he plunges his dagger into the woman's back, causing the ghoul to shriek and spit and convulse as it tries to clutch at the knife. Then it goes down, and lies still.
Atajay moves to hurl an ear-piercing scream at the ghoul attacking Quara, but when it suddenly drops to the ground the sorcerer changes his target to the last ghoul standing. Activating the spell, the ghoul arches her back as the spell hits. It seems to shrug off the worst of the spell's effects though.
Quara howls in rage as she chops away at the ghoul, moving closer to help Arven. The once beautiful woman brushes aside the attacks, and threatens to attack with her own claws.
Penta moves closer, drawing two wicked looking whips. They flick out and wrap around the ghoul's legs. She is knocked prone but immediately tries to stand up.
Initiative
22 - ghouls
14 - Arven
14 - A'vandira
11 - Batango
10 - Atajay
9 - Quara
8 - Penta
------
Fort save
Quara growls, her face twisted and bestial with her feelings of pain and something foul seeping through her veins. Her blade flashes and twists, catching the sunlight as she cuts at the ghoul again and again.
", you abomination!" the tiefling howls.
Suddenly the threat posed by the three undead harlots is reduced by two-thirds of their force and I let out a sigh of relief. However, I do realize there's still one more and with quick flick of my wrist and a few arcane syllables, yet another ray of glistening ice crystals speeds towards its target, striking the ghoul with great precision and force.
Atajay again attempts to shock the undead with his tiny bolt of lightning.
Ranged touch
Damage for Jolt cantrip
Penta broadly smiles as the undead begin to drop. She was certain that the group had this situation handled, but couldn't help in adding insult to injury. The two whips move in unison while both use alternating waveforms. "Tis a good day for the dead to stay dead.
The warpriest lashes out with her left wrist, then her right. Penta laughs with glee, as the whips let loose her bloodlust.
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Round 4
The ghoul tries to pick itself up, ragged hair hanging limp. Taking advantage of the ghoul's distraction, Quara growls and darts in with her blade, biting deep into the undead.
The ghoul responds with a swipe of claws, opening new gashes along Quara's chest.
The ghoul lunges, striking for the tiefling's face. Before the undead woman can claw out her eyes though, A'vandira blasts her with another
ray of frost and the ghoul goes down, frozen to its core.
The threat abated, you are able to look inside the tent. Inside you find more rotting human remains, some pieces tattooed with Chelish military sigils. Scattered around are piles of filthy clothes, and a vast bed of mouldering cushions lies at the base of the tree. Clouds of flies dance above the decay.
Among the piles of revealing clothing inside the tent you find a very fine leather hip flask depicting a crocodile, filled with some type of potion. You also find three very sharp, oft-used daggers (one of which is masterwork), a chest containing six flasks of alchemist’s fire, two barrels of very cheap perfume, a wedding dress inlaid with pearls and set with three tiny rubies, a whalebone corset set with mother-of-pearl inlays a dozen silver hatpins set with tiny obsidians. You also scrape together a small pile of scattered gems.
-------
ghoul attack
damage
Penta rolls up her whips, and place them both back on her voluptuous hips. Her thick thighs along with her tight athletic torso...Her fluid movements along with her pinpoint accuracy...All gives the impression of a very dangerous cat.
The warpriest retrieves her bow. "What a you day are having."Smiling broadly at Arvin.
She moves close to him and softly strokes his arm. "My poor Undine baby."
She whispers a prayer into his ear. A wash of positive energy flows over the barbarian, healing some of his wounds. Penta crinkles her nose. "Feel better?" She smiles and gently grasps his nipple. She twists it...hard. "I'm so happy for you." she says in a dismissive tone.
Whirling on the group she says. "Penta Slaughter. I accept you to join with me to get off this accursed isle."
"Nice to meet you, Penta. I'm Atajay. Problem is we can't leave this island just yet. We are looking for a friend. And some water, I assume."
"With the blessings of Calistra, I can quench the thirst of a town. As far as a friend, You've met one. Can I assume you have a ship?" Her head tilts and her eyes widen with expectation.
When the last of the ghouls falls, I rush over to Arven. As the newcomer moves towards the Undine, I look at her expectantly. A look of relief washes over my face when I see her spell heal a modicum of Arven's wounds. My face turns red however when I see Penta touch him rather inappropriately. Energy crackles around my hands as I warn her in a hissing tone "Hands off! He's mine! I appreciate your healing him, but that's the only touching you'll do, understood?"
"Calistria, was it?" Quara asks as she painfully rotates her shoulder, wincing. "I don't feel right. That... thing clawed me a couple of times. I'll accept her nibs' healing, rather than go rotty, so if you don't mind making with the good magic, I'll be happy to shake your hand, Madam Slaughter. I... I... Uh-oh... Hrk!"
Slowly, Quara slumps to the ground, where her limbs stiffen unnaturally.
After pulling the dagger from the ghoul's back, Batango looks down at the blade awkwardly, as if he had not expected the knife to be effective at all. Turning to the final enemy, he only makes it half a step before it is done in, so he thrusts his knife back into its sheathe and walks over to the group, eying the newcomer suspiciously, curiously...
"Hm, fortuitous, it is being, you showing up when do did. Strange also, I am tinking." He walks up to Arven as he speaks, a grey-blue light sparking to life on his hand. He places it on the Undine's back, imparting him with the rejuvenation of the sea. "How did you come to be here?" Upon hearing Quara succumbing to her wounds, Batango wheels around and steps to her fallen form. Kneeling down, he looks her over. "A grim affliction from de undead, I tink. I can do nothing for de stiffness, but de sea washes wounds..." His hand glowing again, he places it on Quara's forehead.
Hex of Healing Arven:
Hex of Healing Quara:
What felt like minutes, but was several tens of seconds after the fight ends and Penta touches the large undine, he suddenly jerks and starts to move. Immediately he falls to the floor as though the strength has been drained from him. His bare chest and back sweats and his wild bloodshot eyes slowly regain their normal colour. He face contorted by exhaustion and confusion, his voice loosing some of his natural confidence, he almost stutters, as he looks from 'Raven' to the newcomer and back, several times. His gaze settles on the new fighter with healing powers, "T-thank you, these wounds have gone deep." he says as he fingers a raw gash slicing through his flesh to the bones of his shoulder, wincing as he does so. He turns back to 'Raven' smiling weakly, "She...Penta.. has made the bleeding stop, I'll be alright in a few days. I'm sorry I couldn't stop them, they held some power I've never seen before." He gets up unsteadily, "Well done Quara, you are brave and saved my life, I am indebted to you." his face, showing the shame he feels for failing in his quest to protect his shipmates, looks to the ground. Sheepishly he asks of Penta, "My life is weak, should you be able to let more of your gods fortune bind my wounds I would be very grateful."
After he has regained some of his strength back he starts towards the tent, he moves towards 'Raven', walking by her side, but keeps glancing towards the new healer, unsure of his feelings, for this is a warrior like him, so surely wouldn't need him. Yet she touched him with more than a healer's touch, but then 'Raven', she needs him and he can protect her. His mind races, conflicting emotions course through his body.
Penta aims a chastising finger at Raven. If he is your property, then you should have branded him. she said as a mother scolding a child. How was a girl to know
Penta turns to Quara a says a quick prayer. She delivers the healing energy with a slap to her ass.
Penta relates that the beach not far from here, was safe enough for the group to rest. She discusses her being shipwrecked at length.
Spellcraft potion
"Now ladies, nor reason for hissy fittin', we still have to find Sandara. We aren't leaving this place until the pretty young cleric is back safely with us.and between toads and undead, this island don't seem too hospitable, so I'd suggest we all work together."
Arven, hearing Penta's words to Raven can't help but say with some anger, "Arven is no one's property but his own. He will never be branded a slave." His face is a dark shade of blue as he glares at Penta. "Some might succumb and be slaves, buy that is not my way."
Later after Arven has calmed down, at the invitation to rest on a beach, Arven looks pleased and turns to Penta, "A safe beach by the sea, indeed it would make a fortunate changes from traipsing through this isle. Lead on and tell your tales of how you found your way here."
Arven hears Atajay words, " I would not be able to help you much if we get into trouble searching for Sandara, Atajay. These wounds of mine are weakening me." continues the blue man. "We can continue the search in the morning, unless you think we must go on now?"
Glaring at Penta, I snarl: "My property? He's a free man, but he's mine nevertheless." Then I see how Penta heals Quarra and it starts to dawn on me that the priest might just have a very peculiar way of delivering her spells. With a shrug I turn away from the scene, resolving to speak to Arven about the situation in private at a later moment.
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Once things calm down, you decide to head for the beach rather than attempt to reach the heights in your bedraggled state. You find the beach without too much trouble, a vast strip of white sand sheltered by coconut palms. Nearby is a wildly growing crop of corn, as if someone had planted it but had neglected to come back and tend their crop. It is a large crop, covering perhaps just over a square mile. Dotted here and there are stumps with the heads of dead sailors placed carefully on top. Dark clouds of flies swarm around each head.
The beach does indeed provide a safe haven for you to spend the night. You are wary of any further attacks by undead such as the ones you encountered earlier, but the only creatures to take an interest in you are the crabs. You find you have to watch your feet, as the opportunistic crabs try to claw at you. Some indeed have grown quite large.
Mosquitoes are a problem as well, great swarms of them. You need to make some sort of a shelter, or you feel they'll eat you completely.
Fort
Despite Arven's moaning about the hurt of his wounds as he walks slowly and painfully to the beach, keeping close to the rest of the party.
Once Arven reaches the beach, he immediately removes his weapons and swims in the warm waters, after the initial stinging, his wounds seem to repair themselves a little bit. Once he feels a little better, he starts on the job of making a shelter for the party, to protect them from the insects that continually fly around the beach. "We should bury those heads, or return them to the sea so they may rest peacefully, as is the wont of sailors. Though why they have been placed so worries me, do you think Sandara could be one of them? Let us rest tonight, we will have more time to worry about that in the morning and maybe catch some crabs and eat fresh meat?"
As the days activities come to an end, Arven turns to 'Raven', "Please, would you mind helping tend my wounds, I'm sure you hands would soothe the pain?" before his eyes shut.
HPs before sleep = 11HPs.
Penta sits down "Nice shelter, All we need is a ship to go around it." she smirks. "Tell me of Sandara, and the adventures you have encountered"
The Warpriest isn't skilled in administering the sick. She never had the time to learn such things. Tomorrow she would have more blessings from Calistra to heal the wounded.
"If I remember we found some of those magical curing drinks, I think its my time to try one." says Arven smiling and taking the potion. He takes a little sip first, "You sure about this, it tastes of .... something, and its not nice." As the others nods for him to continue, he holds his nose in one hand, throws back his head, openning his mouth and gulping down the liquid. . "Oh that was .... disgusting and hardly helped at all, was that really one of those good potions."
Once the potion has worked its tricks and Arven is able, he engages Penta in conversation, saying how they came to be on the island and his fights with the untrustworthy pirate crew.
HPs 18
Atajay fills the new Priestess in on their adventures. Frogs, sharks, evil sailors, and all the other maladies that had hit the crew. He brightens up taking about the pretty red haired cleric, and darkened again when talking about her suspected abduction.
Penta listens to all the information, and does her best to organize it. "It sounds like my only opportunity to get off this island is to help you achieve your goals. Her hand flips in a non committal gesture. "Which I'm fine with. However, given all the dangers you discussed, we will need to hone this group into a fighting unit. I am very skilled in such things. I would like to make recommendations in that regard.
Penta begins to rummage through the groups pack of loot. The first thing she does is to toss another potion of healing to Arven. "You are the front line fighter. There is no benefit to the group for you to go into battle wounded. Drink it>"
She grabs another potion, invisibility this time. "Those heads on stumps, do you know what they tell me?" she pauses for effect. "They say stay out or die. In this situation what we need is a scout. Whoever is the groups best scout should use this potion to gather intelligence for the forbidden area ahead. They can come back and we can plan an appropriate offensive
Penta picks up the amulet and says "And for the love of all that is holy, will someone please use this. Preferably a frontliner."
"Now lets go find your friend"
Arven stands somewhat shocked at the outspoken woman, "We're all seamen and women together here, not soldiers. We all try and help one another, I have my strength and use it to protect the others as much as I can. But frontliner, we're all frontliners in the fight for our survival." a rather indignant blue sailor speaks out. "That may be the way you carry on in whatever army you are a member. We are sailors of the highest repute, survivors of the seven seas." he throws his head back, taking his bandanna off and letting his blue hair catch in the wind.
Taking a drink, he calms a little, "Anything to help stop me being hit would help." he continues and takes up the amulet that Penta has gathered in her pile of treasure. It glistens against his blue tinged skin in the sunlight, as he puts it on. "Nice..pretty thing. I'll wear it." He beats himself on the chest with his fist, trying to notice if he feels more protected with this new thing, but nothing seems to change, as he frowns, but he keeps it on anyway, Perhaps 'Raven' or Penta might like me more with this shiny thing. But Penta is strange, I've heard army's can be very rigid in the way they do fight. Not like us pirat..... fighting sailors, we respond to the sea and her foibles in battle.
AS Penta looks around and organises the 'troops', Arven gives 'Raven' the potion that Penta gave him. He whispers to her, "I didn't like the taste of the last one, give this to me if I'm hurt badly in a fight, if I am laid out and flattened. It won't happen," he continues with bravado, "but fortunes may not be with me always."
Penta shrugs at Arven's comments. "In the middle of battle, a bite of an axe or the claw of some abomination care little of a name. Seaman, sailor, or soldier. I am simply suggesting tactics that will put the odds of battle in our favor." Penta smiles girlishly at the Undine. "Besides you're just too sexy a man to be hidden away in the rear with the gear."
"Before we go any further," Quara says while giving Penta a cool look, "one thing. You got your little spank in when I was paralyzed. Fair go. That was the only free one you get. I've no problem with your goddess doing her thing - it keeps the population up - but I'm not a doxie. Next time, you can touch my shoulder. Arright?"
The tiefling's tail lashes once, then settles down again.
"Anyhoo... I've got a little bit of stealth, but my eyes aren't so great. I'm best in a supporting role; my music and my spells are best for battlefield control."
"My Word, I have never seen a group complain so much about being healed. With that attitude, who says there will be a next time?" Penta waves her hand in a dismissive gesture. I thought I was dealing with bawdy sailors, not prudish teetotalers. My mistake. Penta fingers her holy symbol of Calistra. "My god teaches that pleasure and pain are inextricably linked. You cannot have one without the other, sometimes its hard to distinguish between them."
"Your goddess needs to learn to drink in moderation, then," Quara says, snickering. "I can have a very jolly time without suffering a drop of pain. Maybe I should try to touch the Starstone, me, and become goddess of pleasure enhanced by self-control?"
Quara nudges Arven, grinning like a tigress.
"What do you think? Would priests look good in striped robes?"
Penta bites at the bait. "Ah, but without pain, pleasure has nothing to define it. Even the finishing act of copulation, is simply the exquisite release from tortured need."
Penta laughs at the idea of striped robes. "You're acolytes will look slimmer with all those vertical lines."
"They'll be better able to hide in the long grass to ambush donors, too, when it comes to collection time," Quara chuckles. "Your goddess is too extreme about things. She needs to chill out with a cup of chamomile tea and enjoy some quiet time with a good book, sounds like."
Throughout the rest of the day and into the night, Batango keeps to himself, far to the rear of the group. He spends his time observing, formulating, calculating...he finds these new developments curious. Studying the exchanges between Penta and the others, he contemplates the friction. That the addition of one castaway could do so much to rouse the conflict of the rest of his makeshift crew...though, in his experience, such things were natural. Though he had spent much of the past several years in seclusion, his time on ships and serving in crews had shown him that all members of a crew were very rarely a copacetic unit. They were more prone to grudges and plots, rivalries and fights. Granted, the situation of Batango and his crew was somewhat different. Press ganged as they were, their camaraderie was of a different sort. He did not particularly find Penta offensive; perhaps he even shared some of her notions towards the others in a certain sense, but he was simply quiet about it. Quick tongues often were targets of quick razors.
Of their arguments, Batango has naught to add. He only watches and listens. Their talk of pleasure and gods are of little interest to him, but he makes note of their discourse regardless. Batango offered nods to Besmara in his youth, and perhaps he could not deny that She had gifted him to some degree, but now gods meant little to him. There is only He, the Deep One, the Darkness Beneath, the Grim Patron, the Fathomless Benefactor. That is the true power for him, and He has no philosophies to incite dispute or discussion. The creed of the Deep One is simple - the sea is all. The sea gives life and removes it; the sea creates world and erodes them away. The sea is both power and peace, both wrath and calm, lawful in its chaos. Batango needed no other, needed no gods. Gods could rise and fall, gods could be made and unmade, but the sea is eternal.
He does speak to Tabook at random intervals, muttering quietly in different languages. When fatigue takes him, he moves to a secluded spot of from the others to rest his bones, though when he passes them he sweeps an eye across their gathering, as if to read one final observation.
Arven face turns a darker blue at Penta's words to him, "Cute!" he says sheepishly before looking around to see if 'Raven' heard.... An embarrassed smile takes hold of Arven's face, "Well I do my best to protect them, don't want nothing nasty to get to them, specially the girls. And I'll look after you too Penta." he says as the last words of the sentence descend to a whisper.
When Quara enters the conversation, Arven keeps a quiet, timid sort of silence, one of having been caught with his hands in the sweet jar, (or cookie jar for those across the pond). At the talk of the pleasure of pain, Arven looks suddenly concerned, under his breath saying audibly "Not good, not good.... it always hurts when someone tries to kill you, not good not good!" He truly has no comprehension of the ways of pleasure and pain as being described by the two ladies. He turns and nodding to the two ladies, quietly retreat towards 'Raven'.
Atajay sat mostly in silence as the ladies had their most interesting debate. He wasn't sure what to add without saying the wrong thing and maybe getting a slap for his words. The sorcerer was much more interested in saving Sandara. He had missed her terribly since she was taken, more than he originally suspected.
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Arven ably directs the building of a suitable shelter for the group for the night. As you become better acquainted with the new arrival, you set about tending your wounds and preparing for a hike up the ridge in the morning. The flies around here bite something terrible, and you'll be glad to be away.
The next morning, you head out for the ridge. It's steep, but more a steady incline than straight out rock climbing. Fortunately it is still jungle, and there are lots of trees and vines you can use to help pull you up.
Quara, as you march along you begin to feel a bit feverish. And hungry. You suspect it may be related to the wounds you took from the ghoul, you never did feel you had gotten the wounds cleaned enough. Oddly enough, Atajay and Penta both exhibit similar symptoms, though they were never touched by the ghouls.
Along the crest of the ridge, you find a well-built timber stockade surrounding a small lodge in a jungle clearing. Vines wrap and strangle a great tree that rises next to the lodge, blocking light from above. Beside it is a bubbling spring.
------
Quara Con and Dex
Atajay Con and Dex
Penta Con and Dex
Unwilling to create dissension in the group, I decide to keep out of Penta's way for now. When Arven asks me to join him and take care of his wounds, I gladly follow the big Undine to where his bedroll lies on the ground. As he lowers himself onto his bedroll, I look over his wounds and do my best to treat them as best as I can. However, with the urgency of battle gone, it seems like my healing touch is also gone.
Looking at Arven, I shrug apologetically: "Sorry dear. But it seems there's not much I can do about those. I'll just cover them with some clean cloth and pray it'll do."
Once the shelter is completed, I spread my bedroll next to Arven's and lie down on it, staring at the night sky, wondering if I ever will get back to Skullport and continue the search for my father. When Arven lies down next to me, I turn towards him, but my eyes fail to penetrate the darkness as he preparea for the night.
My thoughts a chaotic jumble, I find it hard to sleep, made even more difficult by the numerous flies buzzing around. .
Picking up my bedroll, I move it closer to Arven and lie down on it again. Not sure what it is about the Undine, but as I lie close to him, I find the flies seem to be keeping their distance and I finally am able to sleep, my arm lying across Arven's broad chest.
Fort save
Atajay follows the group, as they close in on the stockade. "Looks like a good spot to hole up a prisoner inside, I think. I bet they've got it well guarded though, best be careful."
Fort:
Penta fells sluggish. She is obviously sick, and others are falling under the same pall. "Atajay has the right idea. And sickness lingers on most of us. It is the perfect time for a scout to get us information to plan our assault effectively. I beg you listen, and use the potion of disappearance here. Identify, friend or foe. Locate defenses and opposition strength. Report back so we may prepare with strategy and spells."
Quara Sher are you up for such a task?
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Stockade
A bit unsure about the plan, Quara nonetheless quaffs the invisibility potion. She fades from view, your last vision of the tiefling her feline grin.
With silent steps, Quara steals towards the stockade entrance. The walls of the palisade are made of seven-foot-tall sharpened wooden stakes, but the gate itself is ajar. You spy a roughly built lodge inside, next to a large tree choked with vines.
Standing by entrance, Quara uses her senses to check that the coast is clear. She doesn't see anything, and she doesn't hear anything. She tests the air with a quick sniff, nothing but there are more botflies buzzing around here. She looks around as best she can, then returns to the group, reporting what she saw.
------
Stealth
perception
Arven sleeps deeply, dreaming of the clean sea water and his fun fishing in its clear blue saltiness. As he turns he feels a net try and trap him across his chest, but he is too strong for that and easily escapes its grasp. Rested he wakes, gently putting "Raven"'s arm on the ground as he refreshes his body once more in the clean water of the sea.
After he has taken breakfast Arven mutters "We could stay here another night, give me a chance to recover my health you know." But he is easily persuaded that with the flies that swarm here, staying is a bad option.
He leads the way and waits for Quara to return after scouting the fort. Impatiently he looks for signs of other creatures that might be using the fort, seeking their tracks whilst tying to remain hidden from prying eyes in the fort. He skirts the land around the fort.
"It all looks and sounds clear," Quara sees -- and then leans heavily against a handy tree. "Ughhh... I feel sick," she complains. "Anyone have a spell against disease?"
Penta smiles and follows after Arven. "Don't worry big boy. I have you rear covered. Penta readies her weapons.