"Right, Chell," says Doran in an icy tone, "you grab your kit, we'll wait." He steps through the gate, running his eyes briefly over the vicious spikes that adorn its inner surface, then walks over to Wyn and says, "Anything afoot on the Promise? Plugg'll be wonderin' where we've gotten to by now."
"I see folks moving about, but nothing telling. You think maybe he's awaiting a signal from you, that you've got our weapons from us?"
Vanishing within his stockade for a few minutes, Aaron returns armed with a matching pair of well-crafted short swords and armored in an equally masterwork darkened chain shirt of fine links, fine enough to make almost no sound as he walks. His clothes, however, remain the same as before; plain and functional, even though they have certainly seen better days, and with remnants of what must once have been his naval uniform here and there.
"Shall we begin our little hunt then?" Now that he has found a purpose, especially one that promises to help him make the creatures pay somewhat for the last three years, and with his weapons in his hands again, the Chelaxian man seems more focused, more in control.
Well, now the Cheliaxian is well armed and armored. I feel so much better. "Let's."
Wyn rejoins the group as they all come outside. "This one had better take the front, he knows where's he's laid all his traps. I'm not volunteering to trip any more of them."
Aaron Ivey leads them back down the cliffside pathway, avoiding the traps that Doran earlier led them through. With Ivey leading the way, it takes them considerably less time to descend than it took them to ascend. The sun is dipping closer to the horizon; they only have a few hours left of sunlight at most. The group of sailors - now with one more - hits the bottom of the path and cut between the overgrown crops and the base of the cliff. They walk south, keeping an eye out for the vudu. Aaron explains that they are called 'incutilis,' and shares what he has learned about them in the last few years. He tells them that he has killed more of them than he can count, as they used the bodies of his crewmates and some of the larger local fauna.
The seven of them arrive on the southwest shore. Unlike the sandy beach that runs along the east side of the island, the entirety of the south is like the north and west - cliffs rising sharply out of the water. They stand in front of a natural cove formed in the shape of a semi-circle. The dark water below churns with the waves coming in from the sea to the south through the cliffside opening. The cliffs rise a good forty feet above the water, which is somewhere between low and high tide. At this time of day, the tide will only rise. Ivey leads them around the side of the cove, almost halfway down to the opening. Looking back, he points at a cavern entrance half-filled with water that leads back underneath the island. "That's where they come from. That's where your friends will be."
Ollivor looks down at the cliffs, and feels an odd urge to fly. To simply spread his wings and feel the sea spray and wind roil under them as he spirals gently down below.
But I don't have wings... He thinks to himself, I don't even have a spell that will help me with this. Still... The impulse is surprisingly strong, and Ollivor finds himself smiling.
"Ah well, who wants to live forever?" he asks, and aims to dive into the water without so much as a by your leave and swim the rest of the way.
The young man's enthusiasm does not equal grace as his dive loses form half way through and he smacks against the surface of the water too much to the side...which has got to sting.
Oh gods, my whole side is going to be as red as a lobster at the least... Ollivor rues his impulsiveness more than a little. He's pretty sure his face is red too. Still, he tries to orient himself and swim to the entrance.
Aching and distracted, Ollivor feels the instinct of his blood take over. Unfortunately, the dragons he calls kin can breathe under water, but the human Ollivor cannot. Lured by the depths, he actually swims the wrong way for a moment before realizing his mistake.
While his friends might see his submerged form, it's clear he's not rising to the surface like he should be.
Doran looks at the cliffside and studies the vegetation at the top, considering how he might make the descent safer for himself and his companions. "Think we could rig up a rope, or some vines, to make it a little safer to climb down there?"
Hearing a sort of smacking splash, followed by a cut-off cry, Doran scans the water and sees where Ollivor seems to have jumped into the cove. "Olli! Olli! Are you all right? Can anyone see him?"
Doran moves toward the nearest tree, hauling down the vines that grow from it, calling out as he does so, "John, Thorn, help Olli! I might be able to swim down there, but I won't be strong enough to get him out of the water! I'll try to rig up something to climb with. Wyn, Vrun, Ivey, help gather vines, please!"
The stress of the situation takes over and Doran steps into the command role he's gotten used to - and fails to note that he's just treated the despised Chell as one of them, part of the crew that must work together to save their crewmate.
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Before Doran's words are even out of his mouth, John springs into action. He watches the young man jump into the water, floundering in mid leap and smacking into the water with tremendous force. He doesn't see Ollivor rise to the surface and a shiver runs down his spine. A bad fall from that height could have knocked him unconscious The red haired marine thinks worriedly.
Scrambling to the edge of the cliffs the marine grabs the edge of the rocks and begins climbing down, seeking out handhold after handhold. His muscles burn from the added weight of his armor, but he had no idea what might be in the water beside the luckless cook and he didn't have time to take it off anyway. The marine shouts, as he is fifteen feet above the water. Below him another wave surges into the rocky cove. John scans the water and sees a dark shape floating with its back to the surface. Without thinking, John throws himself the last ten feet and turning in mid air pikes his hands together, diving gracefully into the surging waves below.
Finding his equilibrium in the warm tropical water, John opens his eyes. The salt water stings and a school of blue and bright green fish burst past him, scattering at the man's sudden appearance. He looks around searching for his friend, hoping that he will be in time to save him from drowning.
John reaches for Ollivor, who fortunately does not react poorly to being grabbed. Some swimmers, especially non-sailors, don't know how to react properly. In a panic, some even try to climb on their rescuer - oftentimes drowning both of them. John climbs back to the surface using his good leg for power, bursting out of the water with Ollivor. Both gasp for air, treading above the churning water. Surprisingly powerful eddies and currents press them in all directions, but they can get to the entrance of the semi-submerged cavern if they swim straight ahead.
"I will have to disobey that order, sir," Aaron says half-seriously and half-jokingly, remembering his own time in the Chelaxian Navy; this is probably not the first time he has uttered these exact words. Quickly making his way to the edge, he wastes no time trying to climb down the cliff, instead following Ollivor's example and jumping off, diving into the water, albeit with a little more grace than the other man.
Once in the water, he swims towards the two men struggling with the current, ready to support John in getting his friend to safety. "Need a hand?"
Trudging at the back of the party now, Wyn only just came up to the rest of the group in time to see Ollivor's tumble. She calls out his name, and sees as quickly John dive in to rescue him. All the events seem to happen as quickly as she can take a single breath, and she is only glad Ollivor seems alright.
Wyn looks about ready to push Ivey off the cliff when he opts to jump himself, and she just shakes her head and looks for a vine to hack with her scimitar. "Mind, Doran, I'd probably feel safer jumping than climbing myself, strange as it may sound." But having a vine to reach down there in case anyone else falls, jumping or climbing, would be a good idea.
"Vrun, can ya give me a hand yanking this one down? Want to be careful here, not shake anything loose."
Doran is not the least bit surprised to have Ivey go his own way - they've never sailed or fought together, the man has never served under Doran as first mate. But what does surprises Doran is the man throwing himself into the boiling surf to rescue Ollivor. So startled is Doran that he forgets his own self-appointed task for a moment and, holding a vine limply in his hand, he watches Rawkins and Ivey bring a stunned-looking Olli to the surface.
"Oh, thank the gods, I didn't lose another one to the sea," he says to himself. Looking to Wyn, he says, "What's that? You might rather jump than climb? Well, you're free to do either, but we won't be jumpin' back up from that cave, so I thought something to make the climb out a little surer would be a help. And if we can climb down safely, it saves swimmin' in that cove, where the water's none too gentle."
He returns to his work, collecting and knotting lengths of vine to form the best rope he can manage. As he works, he begins to whistle a low tune, with a dirge-like beginning that rises in tempo to reflect his great relief about Olli's rescue. He anchors it to a tree near the cliff-top, gives it a couple of firm tugs to ensure it's safe, and begins to climb down.
It happens so fast: Ollivor jumps as if he can fly, John climbs like a monkey down the cliff, Doran giving directions, and Aaron diving off the edge. He looks over the edge, knowing that he needs to get down quickly but also knowing that a little time spent in preparation can save more time if things go awry.
”Sure, Wyn,” he says wrapping the vine around his right hand to pull with a better grip. He slowly leans back using his mass to stretch the vine nearly to its breaking point. ”Vines are a good idea. Two or three should work for us, depending on the length.”
Ollivor hears the cry of his name, and John comes to his rescue, helping him up above the surface....he's grateful.
Then the Chel comes to his aid...and he's surprised!
He spews a bit of water, "Grateful to both of you... that was embarrassing. Believe it or not, back home, I was considered a good swimmer."
Indeed, he makes to the cave in solid strokes now, and when he can, clambers onto the solid part of the cave entrance to take a breather. While he's tempted to clutch at his side which still hurts like a devil slapped him, he resists the urge. Probably youthful pride at play
As Doran climbs down, Vrunyar ties his vine to around his torso while he watches the rescue of Ollivor below. He tugs on the knot, securing his vine to Wyn’s vine and looks satisfied.
”Ollivor's talking so I’m not needed down there immediately. You don't mind if I go first, right?”
He starts climbing down Doran's vine, but loses his grip about ten feet down the cliff. The vine between Vrunyar and Wyn goes taut then the knot slips free. Vrunyar falls into the water.
He comes to the surface, sputtering and cursing. "I'm alright! I'm alright!"
Wyn nearly dives after Vrunyar, then relaxes as she sees him surface safely.
She looks the vine, now questionable in its reliability, then looks down.
"F!~# it," she says, and takes a leap.
At first, it appears she is going to merely cannonball into the water, but, as memories of days swimming questionably safe watering holes in her childhood travels trigger some reflexive motor memory, she somersaults, straightens her body, dives, neatly sluicing into the water, before gracefully coming up for air.
Not one to bask in her successes, she mutters to the group, "Now what are the chances we come out of here covered in leeches?"
Thorn brings up the rear of the group once more as the party reaches the edge of the cove. Walking up to the edge of the cliff to look down and making a mental note of the caves entrance as Aaron points in its direction. Thorn scans the side of the rock face trying to find the easiest way of traversing the rock face to the cave's entrance. Suddenly from his peripheral vision Thorn makes out a darting Ollivor who haphazardly tosses himself over the edge and into the cove causing quite a splash. Belting out in uncontrolled laughter "HA!HA!HA!" Thorn slaps his leg and bends over hold his side from the pain of uncontrolled laughter. "Ollie, YOUR A MAD MAN! Best belly flop I have ever seen."
Thorn quickly tries to regain his composure once Ollivor is unresponsive and slow to resurface. Doran asks him and John to help Ollivor before he drowns in the rising tide. John rushes down the side of the cliff and Aaron gracefully leaps of the edge to help. Following Ollivor's lead Thorn runs towards the edge of the cliff griping his bow tightly in his left hand and out away from his body to keep from getting tangled in the bow string once striking the water.
Springing away from the cliff, Thorn gracefully tucked his body forward, keeping his legs perfectly straight and his arms out away from his body like a T. Completing a single rotation before piercing the cresting waves feet first hardly making a splash. After a few strong kicks of his legs, Thorn propels himself to the surface racing all the fresh tiny bubbles to the surface. Thorn quickly swims over to help John and Aaron aid Ollivor to the caves entrance. Thorn suddenly spots Vrunyar crash into the waves after his makeshift vine rope snapped causing him to fall unexpectedly into the water. Wyn followed closely behind to aid Vrunyar even though he did not want it. After seeing the cursing dwarf splash angrily in the water Thorn yelled out to Wyn and Vrunyar "What took ya'll so long and where's Doran?"
Doran pops up at the face of the cavern as the swimmers straggle in. The vine didn't reach nearly far enough down, but it got him close enough to simply use the crags in the rocks. The opening of the cavern is half-filled with water, leaving them all waist deep in saltwater. In about three hours, it will likely be completely full as the waters from the high tide rush in. The cavern quickly grows pitch black as the sunlight fails to carry far beyond the entrance. The narrow tunnel arches away sharply to the left. At the time between the tides, there will be a few feet of air for them to navigate with. The experienced sailors can tell that the tide won't come completely over the tunnel, giving them a pockets of air at points - but there is no guarantee that the air pockets won't be few and far between. Stalactites have formed over the years, cutting down the space above them at times. A carpet of seaweed floats lazily on the surface, but it isn't thick enough to truly impede their movement.
"That's what I like about this group, our enthusiastic nature," Ollivor comments as Wyn speaks on Leeches.
Springing away from the cliff, Thorn gracefully tucked his body forward, keeping his legs perfectly straight and his arms out away from his body like a T. Completing a single rotation before piercing the cresting waves feet first hardly making a splash. After a few strong kicks of his legs, Thorn propels himself to the surface racing all the fresh tiny bubbles to the surface. Thorn quickly swims over to help John and Aaron aid Ollivor to the caves entrance. Thorn suddenly spots Vrunyar crash into the waves after his makeshift vine rope snapped causing him to fall unexpectedly into the water. Wyn followed closely behind to aid Vrunyar even though he did not want it. After seeing the cursing dwarf splash angrily in the water Thorn yelled out to Wyn and Vrunyar "What took ya'll so long and where's Doran?"
"Madness is a tad over rated" Ollivor says as he recalls what was said. He looks about to see Doran has made it down and is relieved. Looks like the only one who had real trouble was me and maybe Vrunyar. Seeing what lays before them, he adds, "Gonna get dark down there... want me to cast a bit of light on something? If so, name it and I'll try."
Springing away from the cliff, Thorn gracefully tucked his body forward, keeping his legs perfectly straight and his arms out away from his body like a T. Completing a single rotation before piercing the cresting waves feet first hardly making a splash. After a few strong kicks of his legs, Thorn propels himself to the surface racing all the fresh tiny bubbles to the surface. Thorn quickly swims over to help John and Aaron aid Ollivor to the caves entrance. Thorn suddenly spots Vrunyar crash into the waves after his makeshift vine rope snapped causing him to fall unexpectedly into the water. Wyn followed closely behind to aid Vrunyar even though he did not want it. After seeing the cursing dwarf splash angrily in the water Thorn yelled out to Wyn and Vrunyar "What took ya'll so long and where's Doran?"
Wyn tilts her head toward Doran slowly making his way down off the rocks. "We were getting the vines together." She looks at Doran. "So much for having enough to climb back up. It was a good thought though."
She turns toward the cave entrance. "So they're in here..." Wyn points with one hand in between treading water. "Speaking of enthusiasm, as watery as this place looks, I sure as hell hope our crew aren't drowned. If I die in this for Quinn and she's already dead, I'm spending my afterlife throttling that cold-hearted b*&%&."
"Gonna get down there... want me to cast a bit of light on something? If so, name it and I'll try."
"Probably a good idea, though creatures may spot the light."
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At the head of the group, John peers into the darkness squinting. The water sloshed around John's waist and he had to step carefully from slipping on the algae encrusted stones below his peg. The water held a bit of buoyancy though and the warmness of it felt refreshing on the man's legs after the long hike through the island and its steep rocky paths. From ahead John could hear the dripping of water along the stalactites, but because of the way that the sound echoed in the enclosed cavern John wasn't sure where it was coming from, though he would have been willing to bet a silver eagle that it was from somewhere ahead of him.
Glancing back at Ollivor, John gave a wry smile. Personally I think you're the bravest of all of us Olli. First the spy in the Empty Lighthouse and now that crazy leap. You got some stones on you, no lie. Peering again into the depths of the shadowy cavern, John sighed. It's going to be real hard to keep the element of surprise here, with the way that sound is going to travel, besides I figure we have about three hours before this place is full of water and we are going to be stuck swimming from air pocket to air pocket thanks to the tides so our time is limited before it gets real uncomfortable in here. Sheathing his cutlass, John unlimbered his wickedly spiked boarding axe, flipping the grip around so he would swing with the sharp pointed end, before drawing one of the salvaged silver daggers from the companions tent and fixing it were the axe hung from his sash. How about I take point again. If you could put some light on my boarding axe, that would be useful since I would be at the front. Turning to the others, John raised the axe, gesturing towards the spike. I don't know if any of you have had to fight in the water before, but clubs and swords don't work for sh!t in the water. If you got daggers or something you can jab with, that's going to be your best bet.
As John spoke to the group, he had a sudden flashback.
::A spray of water filled the air as John clutched himself tightly to the masthead of the Righteous Eagle. His head felt woozy and there was a numb pain in his leg. He wanted to go to sleep. He felt so tired. He focused on the dagger in his hand and grinned manically. He hoped that gods-cursed shark lost his blasted eye for trying to trying to take his leg. His leg.. glancing down, John saw a mass of splintered bone and ragged flesh. The world swam around him. Oh.. oh gods.. John whispered, before passing out.::
Gulping reactively John's knuckles tightened themselves on the grip of his axe. Gods, any blood we spill here is going to draw sharks in. Maybe not not, but by the time this cavern fills up. Taking a deep breath, John breathed it out slowly. Yea, we want to be outta here before the tunnel fills up, so we should hurry.
"How about fists? Do fists work in water?"
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Looking towards Wyn, John shakes his head. Generally the water will slow your strikes and throw you off balance. A fist hitting water doesn't work so well. But.. John trails off rubbing his chin as he glances at the water. Right now we should be ok, but as the water rises that's when it's going to get tricky. Stoically, the wounded ex-marine calmly runs a hand along the side of the rough stone cavern wall. You can see the algae that runs parallel along the sides of the wall, there and there. The marine states pointing. That's a pretty safe indication of how high the water will rise during a normal flood. We are in slack tide right now. During the ebb the water would be lower. Anyway, that gives us an idea of how high the tide will rise in here. It depends on the moon phase as well, some floods will be higher and some lower, but I doubt anyone has bothered to make a tidal table for this island, ever so we will have to be careful. Also, as the tide rolls in there will be a current and that is going to affect us as well. It will feel a bit like pushing against a stream.
Running a thumb along the pommel of his dagger, John stares off into the cavern. There's no way of telling from here how far these caverns run. Turning towards their newest companion, Aaron, John studies the man quizzically. Aaron, do you have any idea of how many of these Incutilis we might be facing? Do they only latch onto humanoids or can they control other creatures too?
After both Wyn and John give their two cents, Ollivor obliges touching the boarding axe as directed and causing it to light up with a flicker that looks a touch more like lightning than flame. It now shines like a lantern, and that should serve them well.
As for the praise, Ollivor isn't sure what to say, "Well, I appreciate the praise, but I think mostly its stubborn pride. If it don't get me killed, it will serve me well enough I suppose."
If he can find a place to get some footing, on a ledge or something, he'll try the wand one more time on himself. After that splash, he's in no shape to get into another battle.
But as it doesn't want to work, he secures it carefully and puts it away, before nodding to John, "lead on."
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The boarding axe in John's hand flared with a soft glow, casting flickering shadows along the periphery of the cavern walls. The water below the groups waists glimmered and reflected the light, adding to the radiance of sun as it was lowering itself towards the horizon. John nods thankful as the axe now lights up the immediate vicinity of the cavernous tunnel pushing back the shadows.
With studying eyes, John looks at Ollivor as he shakes the wand, trying as before to get it to work. The group looked worse for wear, everyone having scratches and bruises to a greater or lesser degree and John couldn't blame the man for wanting a bit'o healing magic. Cocking his head to the right, John looked at the wand, then scrunched his face up in thought. Olli, you mind if I look at yer magic wand? The marine asks, before barking out a laugh. Gods.. let me see your magic wand. Sounds like something a pierside doxie would say. Guffawing to himself John shook his head as his face went as red as his hair. Ah, ha. John trailed off. But seriously, mate. I've only heard stories about em, never held something magical before. I know it's precious, but do you mind, for just a moment?
Doran chuckles as he makes his way into the cavern, scrambling into the opening and saying, "So much for my taking command, ordering a rope-making detail and telling most of us to climb down, eh? I'm the only one of us still dry, and it's clear I won't be for long."
He steps off rock he's standing on, ending in water up to his shoulders, and says, "Right, what do ye say we make our way in and see what's happened to our crewmates, maybe put an end to a few of those nasty shell-heads?"
With studying eyes, John looks at Ollivor as he shakes the wand, trying as before to get it to work. The group looked worse for wear, everyone having scratches and bruises to a greater or lesser degree and John couldn't blame the man for wanting a bit'o healing magic. Cocking his head to the right, John looked at the wand, then scrunched his face up in thought. Olli, you mind if I look at yer magic wand? The marine asks, before barking out a laugh. Gods.. let me see your magic wand. Sounds like something a pierside doxie would say. Guffawing to himself John shook his head as his face went as red as his hair. Ah, ha. John trailed off. But seriously, mate. I've only heard stories about em, never held something magical before. I know it's precious, but do you mind, for just a moment?
"Far as I'm concerned, the darn thing belongs to the group seeing as all of us will need it now or then," He hands it over without hesitation, "And I'm no wizard. Just got the right blood in me to make things happen now and then. So I go by instinct. Good luck to you if you can make a go of it"
Doran chuckles as he makes his way into the cavern, scrambling into the opening and saying, "So much for my taking command, ordering a rope-making detail and telling most of us to climb down, eh? I'm the only one of us still dry, and it's clear I won't be for long."
He steps off rock he's standing on, ending in water up to his shoulders, and says, "Right, what do ye say we make our way in and see what's happened to our crewmates, maybe put an end to a few of those nasty shell-heads?"
Ollivor actually blushes, "Didn't mean no disrespect to you by my leap there, Doran. I just got carried away..." I thought I could fly for a moment there. "...I'll try to let others take the lead for at least a day so ready when the rest of you are."
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Smiling softly to himself, John carefully takes hold of the carved driftwood wand. It felt smooth in his hands as old driftwood should. Knotted and knurled in parts. It was surprisingly light. Thanks Ollivor.. John states matter of factly. It.. it seems so odd that something so powerful should reside in such tiny frame. Holding the length of wood in his free hand, John glanced down at it. Wind and waves had been carved into the wood, but only when the light hit it just right. Letting his fingers run along the path of the sea smoothed wood, John frowned. As a boy his father had recited to him stories from memory. Some stories, his father had heard from his father. Others had been made up upon a whim. His favorite stories had been of Taborlin the Great with his key, coin, candle and a cloak of 'no particular colour'. Like many boys John had gone to the local bank on Sundays with his family, and like everyone else in Souston they would celebrate Taxfest with its grand feasts provide for by the clergy and he would watch amazed as they would call upon their miracles to heal the injured and provide for the weak. But despite seeing magic, both as a boy and now close up after having spent weeks near Ollivor, John didn't understand magic. But maybe that was the point. It was magic because it could not be understood.
Thinking back he remembered how in his father's stories Taborlin was able to call the name of stone to break himself out of a tower he had been trapped in, and the name of the wind to set him safely on the ground. It all seemed so wondrous. Holding the wand up, John closed his eyes. Heal! he stated, before opening them. But nothing happened. Sighing John shrugged his shoulders. He was no wizard, he knew no names of power. He was just a decent sailor that might have had a future once before he lost his leg. Now.. now he wasn't sure what he was. Three months ago he would have called himself a drunkard and a cripple if he was having a moment of honesty. A year ago he would have called himself a marine and a father. Now.. He was something else, but he wasn't sure what it was, maybe he was just a man trying to survive. As a boy I followed my family and spoke prayers to Abadar. As a marine I looked to Cayden for strength and bravery. Now.. now I cast treasure into the ocean as tribute and lay coins upon the eyes of companions in the name of Besmara. Who.. who am I any more? Father? Husband? Marine? Sailor? Warrior? Leader?
::You are the one that swore to settle your quarrels on shore. You who hold to a code. You who knew that a Truce Ends at the Horizon and planned a mutiny in the face of all odds. You who cursed and swore as you swung from a ships rigging. You who have bled your lifesblood on a ships deck, fighting with blade and fury for the prize. You who have a buccaneer's heart and mind and are never at rest upon land. You who desired freedom above all else. You know who you are and you knew my touch from the moment you set foot on your first ship. ::
Shuttering like a ragdoll caught in the wind, the waves that had for just a moment before lapped around John's waist suddenly swirled around him momentarily like a whirlpool as John snapped his eyes open. He felt his back arch and he stumbled to his good knee. The water rose to his chest and he felt a burning in the back of his throat like he had just taken a long swig of the worst grog ever known. The Black Lady, The Sea Banshee, The Pirate Queen,
As John's voice rang out, the water stilled. The tide slackened. Everything was quiet. And in his hand the wand glowed with an inner light. Stumbling backward, John nearly fell back into the water. As he did so he glanced around his eyes wide. He gripped the wand tightly. He wanted to let it go. He was afraid of this power he had suddenly woken inside of himself. Looking around at the others he seemed momentarily bashful. Uh.. I think its working mates. John croaked to himself, his eyes locked on the wand. Holding the end of the wand at arms length like it was the mouth of a sea snake. John pulled it close warily. It gave off a soft glow, far more dim than the light that Ollivor had conjured. The wand felt warm in his hand now, not cool and lifeless like it had when he had picked it up for the first time. Tentatively John touched the end of the wand to his still raw wounds from the earlier fight with the Vudu. Miraculously his wounds quickly knit together, the skin sucking back towards the ragged edges of the laceration. He felt amazing, warm and rejuvenated. Oh.. oh bloody fething hells, that's amazing. The marine said, before digging into his pouch and scattering a handful of silver into the water in thanks. Who wants a go? The ex-marine said with a grin on his face.
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Doran chuckles as he makes his way into the cavern, scrambling into the opening and saying, "So much for my taking command, ordering a rope-making detail and telling most of us to climb down, eh? I'm the only one of us still dry, and it's clear I won't be for long."
"It wasn't a bad idea. But as my grandpa used to say, practice and theory just decide to be two different things sometimes." She grows quiet. It was probably the first time she'd brought up her family in a long time.
There was more than enough to turn one's thoughts to, however. Wyn watches with interest as John examines the wand--interest that grows to wonder as he manages to get it to activate.
Who wants a go? The ex-marine said with a grin on his face.
Wyn shakes her head. "Pretty sure you need either the gods or magic on your side to get that thing to shine, and I sure as hells have got neither."
She tilts her head toward the cave. "It's great you've figured out how to use that John, but it's gettin' late in the day and Crimson and Quinn are still out there. We better get moving."
"Aye, unless you can give it another shot fast on me, we best get moving," He says as Wyn brings up Crimson and Quinn
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Sure Olli, let me see if I can manage it again. Closing his eyes John murmers to himself Not sure how this is supposed to work, or what I need to do, but I recognize your power Black Lady, you answered when I called. with his eyes still shut, John thinks of a ship adrift in stormy seas. That was the first place he had known the pirate queens touch and it seemed fitting to conjure the image. He visualize the storm blowin harder and harder. He felt that storm inside of himself. It was the same drive that screamed out for vengeance and freedom. It felt right. John couldn't explain it, but he knew it was what he had to do. Everything, everything felt like it was going to change. He dident know how, or why but he had the gaze of the Stormlashed Queen and he would take anything he could get right now.
Opening his eyes the wand had once again flared to life. He nodded, still wary before touching Olli with the end of it and then Thorn for good measure. The wounds same as before knitted together leaving nothing but faint scars to indicate there might have been much more grevious wounds. Right then, I'm ready to move.
Ollivor is startled as his wounds mend quickly, the bruise on his side as well as the earlier loss of blood from the bugs. Not sure how John is doing this, but I can't argue with results"In that case, I think the wand is better in your keeping than mine," Ollivor admits, "Just don't lose it while swimming about...and thanks."
"How many? I am not quite sure," Aaron admits as he answers John's question about the creatures they are about to face. "Truth be told, although I have killed many the last three years, there always seems to be more of them," he continues with a shrug. "And they do not just choose people as their... heh... mounts. Animals will also do in a pinch, as I have seen."
His answer finished, the Chelaxian seems to take a step back once the other man starts using Ollivor's wand, seeming in no particular hurry to either try using it himself or receiving its healing magic. "Onwards then?" The question is mostly rhetorical as Aaron takes another careful step towards the cave, his short swords already in his hands.
The water grows deeper as they delve farther into the flooded caverns, the result of a slightly downward slope of this part of the cave. Doran has to swim, paddling behind the others, to keep up; Vrunyar has to hop, barely keeping his head above the saltwater. The others slosh through the water, which goes up to their chests. Fortunately, the water is warm and not moving rapidly. John leads the way with his boarding axe enchanted by Ollivor's light spell, with the wand tucked away securely.
The group comes up to a fork in the caverns. They all stop to measure the best way forward. Water drips from above and echoes through the enclosed space as they quietly talk about where to go next. They grow quiet as they hear another sound of splashing and voices themselves. None of them - not even Ivey - have heard the incutilis or their meat puppets speak.
From the left fork, a trio of strange people swims towards them, cresting above the water as they come into view. The first of the men has long black hair and a smear of something white covering his face. He shouts at them in Aquan, "Meatia tenei hoki Rakono! Te patu i te takahi i!" The others shout in unison - also painted and wearing leather armor. They move forward smoothly, and it quickly becomes clear why: the three strange men are merfolk, with with chests of humans and the fins of fish. Their purplish scales shine at the magical light. It is clear through their tone and their rapid approach that they intend violence upon the cave delvers.
"Meatia tenei hoki Rakono! Te patu i te takahi i!"
Ollivor doesn't know what they're saying, but snaps back in the language of dragons
He takes no chances, his skin growing scaled for a moment, but not like a fish, for the bronzed overlay reflects for a moment the power in his blood.
Wyn wades a little closer to the left of Aaron, at the mouth of the tunnel, to protect the way to the men behind her.
She puts on as much a defensive stance as she can given she's chest-deep in water, and draws no weapons, but if the merfolk approach any further, she prepares to slap the ubiquitous seaweed at the cave's edges into the eyes of the first one that gets near.
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Casting light ahead of the group from his boarding axe, John trudged against the slowly deepening slope of the water filled cavern. The walls glinted with greens and reds from the encrustation of colorful barnacles and the water splashed with each step that the pressganged crew took. Leading along side the lone survivor of the Infernus, Aaron Ivey, John suddenly held up a hand as he heard splashing just ahead. Peering into the darkness of the left passage, John's hand tightened on his boarding axe.
Suddenly, the light revealed three shapes. At first glance they appeared to be men, but that was only at first glance. Cresting the water was strong powerful bodies, but behind them slapping the water were large flukes. John's eyes opened in shock. [i]Mermen![/b] John thought, recognizing the description. They approached rapidly and the one with long hair and his face painted white pointed to the group, speaking in some sort of harsh, slurring language. Hefting his axe, John nodded to himself. The sailor didn't know the words, but the intent was clear. The leader was shouting orders and the way the fish-men rushed towards the band of rescuers left no room for doubt, they meant to attack.
Pushing forward himself towards the narrowest part of the tunnel, John moved to block the passage while readying his axe in both hands. They would have to come through him first.
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Thorn could hear the subtle sounds of splashing coming from the left tunnel followed by unfamiliar voices. Stepping slightly to the left to get a better view with his low light vision Thorn could see the mermen surface from the water covered in what appeared to be some kind of war paint. Thorn called out "It does not appear they are here to help guide us through the tunnels" Thorn quickly removed an arrow from his quiver and nocked the arrow to his bow string. While raising his bow to take a shot at the Merman calling the out what appeared to be orders Thorn's line of sight is suddenly obstructed by Wyn moving to the left of Aaron and in front of Thorn. Moving to get a better vantage point Thorn lowers his aim with his bow still at the ready as he comes up on Aaron's right side.
Thorn raised the bow back even with his eye level and took his aim again. Targeting the white faced leader because the light reflected off the white paint giving him an easy target in the dark low light tunnel. Thorn let loose the arrow trying to avoid the advancing mermen and pierce the white face of their leader. The arrow begins to sail off target as the water logged fetching weigh down the back of the arrow causing it to hit the rock ceiling. The arrow head sparks briefly before reflecting down into the water below just before the white faced merman.
Quite more focused than before now that a battle is imminent, Aaron takes care not to charge the merfolk, especially considering the battlefield, but instead moves only a little, opting to allow them to come to him. A glance to his side shows him that John seems to have the same idea, eliciting a little smile from the man. It is rather nice to fight besides others after so much time alone. The smile still on his lips, he raises his blades, ready to attack the first foe that comes close enough.
"Okay, Vrun, let's stick together," says Doran as he strokes deftly forward, "see if we can't find a weak spot on one of the fish-men and poke a hole in him, 'fore he does the same to one of us."
hp 24/24 (16/24 nonlethal)/ AC 12/11/11 / F +4 R +3 W +3
AC temporarily at 12 due to failing swim check and losing Dex bonus to AC.
”I don’t know if our new tactics are going to work Doran. It’s hard to fight with any precision while swimming,” the dwarf whispers, cupping the water with his hands and paddling in the middle of the group. He groans wishing he could glide through the water like the halfling and not splash around more off-balance than buoyant. ”But I’m right behind you. Oh, I hate getting salt water on my axe.”
"Pouri te kingi o te moana, ārahi tatou tao ki te whakangaromanga o tatou hoariri!" The merfolk cleric raises his unholy symbol as he chants in his dark language. The symbol is a gold disk inscribed with the crude carving of a maw full of sharp teeth surrounded by tentacles. He raises a three-pronged trident seemingly made of coral as he unleashes the darkly divine magic.
Apparently inspired by the dark musings of the cleric, one of the merfolk warriors surges forward using his powerful fin. As he gets closer to the light, they can see that the blue markings on his face are tribal tattoos that cover most of his face. Aaron thrusts forward with one of his swords as he approaches, scoring a bloody cut on his side. The merfolk warrior, holding a sharp coral spear in both hands, thrusts forward at him - only to cringe in pain and force the spear down before it can pierce him.
The latter merfolk fighter gracefully swims forward in the shallow water, head and shoulders above the water. He carries the same sort of spear as the first, but he wields it with precision. The thrusts it forward, piercing John near the collarbone even as John brings the spike of his boarding axe down onto him. He pulls it slightly back and thrusts again, this time to his right. The second attack - unexpected and vicious - takes Aaron in the side just as he dodges the first merfolk's attack. Blood begins flowing freely from the combatants into the water, giving it a light pink tint before spreading.