"Looks as if the Lady was elegant once. I wonder how long it's been wrecked here."
Though the lock is rusted and difficult, Jonagher deftly twists the mechanism and is rewarded with a loud "click" as the lock opens.
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"I've heard tale of the "Lady". Give me a moment to see what I can recollect of her dead undead Captain." Yuuwa looks at the rotted finery but even closer at the craftmanship of the cabin, steering clear of the chest until Jonagher opens it with his usual nonchalantness.
Yuuwa glances with professional curiousity as the contents of the chest are called out and laid out. She is inspecting and lifting the fallen table as well as using her trident to remove the mattress from its frame as she wonders aloud "What would create or drive the zombism and skeletal remains to animate." She pauses with her hand on the bulkhead feeling the surf striking the hull below, her body relaxes a bit, clearly she already misses shipboard life.
Done with her inspection of the decorum, she turns her attentions back to the crew examining the chests contents. "Find anything worth Bran's life?" Her tone and facial expression indicate an attempt at some gallows humor.
Remembering a few scraps of his Pathfinder training, Origen tries to gauge the age of the room.
"Oh! You meant me!"
"Well, Jonagher, I did pay attention to the stories that you told on the ship. What's inside?"
Muttering an incantation, Origen takes a look at the contents.
Isandril stays alert, keeping an eye on his surroundings for any unpleasant surprises, such as ones of the decaying, yet still walking variety. Short swords already in his hands, he affords a look at the chest, an expression of curiosity on his elven face.
"Anything of interest in there? After all, half of the point of being a daring adventurer is the treasure and interesting items one may find during one's adventures," he quips with a smile.
"What would create or drive the zombism and skeletal remains to animate."
"I suspect it was lingering malice towards a crew that mutinied against its captain," Jonagher offers as he peers inside the chest. "When we last came aboard, I had a vision accusing us of treason and betrayal. That's when the zombies and skeletons came from the hold."
"Anything of interest in there? After all, half of the point of being a daring adventurer is the treasure and interesting items one may find during one's adventures," he quips with a smile.
"...What's inside?"
"Find anything worth Bran's life?" Her tone and facial expression indicate an attempt at some gallows humor.
"Oh, there's plenty here, alright," Jonagher notes aloud. "Some coin. A dagger. And a bottle with a potion, perhaps?" He passes the latter items back to Origen. "Also this..." He holds up the oilskin-wrapped book. "It might be preserved enough to learn a bit more of this ship's fate if it's a logbook."
The rogue retrieves his file and dagger. Then, he gingerly opens the oilskin wrapping and examines the book.
Torden’s eyes flit around the room. He’s certain some sort of nasty undead sailor is just waiting for the right moment to pounce on them. His hands wring the handle of his warhammer.
“C’mon lads,” he whispers, afraid of disturbing whatever remains on the ship. “Quite fiddlin’ with what don’t belong to ya. There ain’t nothin’ to see in there anyhow. Let’s get moving.”
However, when Jonagher holds up the book, Torden’s pressing desire to vacate the ship evaporates.
“’Eh? What’s that? Hand that to me.”
The chest contained:
Isandril, content that the deck seems quiet enough and the undead gone, moves towards the saber-wielding skeleton they fought the previous day. Noticing the broken blade, the elven warrior turns to the dwarven bard.
"Torden," he calls out, "care to take a look at this sword here? I believe it can be repaired, but I could use a second opinion. Besides, I think you might be better-suited to judging such a thing as the forging or repairing of a blade."
"Ah yes, this log book reminds me now of the tail of the Tattooed Lady." Torden's eyes gloss over as he looks at the log book and recalls what little of the maritime history he can.
"The Lady's captain was a woman who appeared to all who saw her as the sun setting on the deep blue horizon. A beauty and an able captain. Alas her love, Captain Avret Kinkarrian, a brave man of the sea, was hunted by the Sargavan Navy and could not return to her. Nonetheless she sought him endlessly. Such matters of the heart rarely turn the sort of profit that a ship's crew desires, and soon they spoke of mutiny.
"Though few, if any, know how the Lady came to this end, I would guess that indeed her crew mutinied. And it would only serve as justice if the crew who revolted against their Captain--a woman chasing the treasure of her heart were cursed to rise again as tormented souls."
Torden hears his name.
"It seems the elf needs me for something on deck."
Jonagher slides the masterwork dagger into his other boot for the time being and scoops out the coins to place them in his pack.
"No telling when or if we'll get off this island," he calls over his shoulder to Origen, "But if anyone comes by with a ship, maybe this can help buy passage to Sargava..."
"Don't let the others wander too far," he adds, "We don't need to be chasing down another party of natives or stirring up the dead."
"Right, Jonagher, let's stir up trouble as a group." Origen follows his companions up to Isandril.
"How long do you think this ship has been here? Fifteen years?"
Torden studies the items Isandril gathered.
"Well, I can tell you that they are in less than optimal condition. Had we someone to work them, they might could be repaired. Had we a place to trade them there might be some value left in them.
Alas, for us now, I'm not so sure."
"Since our day is yet young, I suggest we return to the waterfall and seek some answers to who tried to make off with Bran and why."
"Yes, let's explore more of the island."
Origen looks at the bottle intently. "It's not magical, more's the pity." He pulls out the cork to sniff at the liquid inside. "Rum."
Origen hands the bottle back to Jonagher and takes a look at Isandril's salvage.
Following the trail left by both the attackers and the group yesterday proves easy enough. A broken branch here, trampled grass there. Gouges in the sand where the attackers would shift Bran back and forth to get leverage to move faster.
The group finds itself after awhile, cautisouly examining the small draw where they got Bran back.
Origen looks at the bottle intently. "It's not magical, more's the pity." He pulls out the cork to sniff at the liquid inside. "Rum." Origen hands the bottle back to Jonagher...
"Well then..." the half-elf adds with a sardonic, self-amused smile, "We've found useable treasure at last!" He tucks the bottle away in his pack and follows Origen to the deck above. While the sorcerer examines the rest of Isandril's discoveries, Jonagher keeps an eye on the shoreline.
Following the trail left by both the attackers and the group yesterday proves easy enough. A broken branch here, trampled grass there. Gouges in the sand where the attackers would shift Bran back and forth to get leverage to move faster....The group finds itself after awhile, cautiously examining the small draw where they got Bran back.
Jonagher squats down to half-conceal himself among the undergrowth.
"Well, we seem to be getting better at successfully navigating the island," he quips, "At least we didn't get lost. And...it appears we've found the trail again. I just wonder where our 'friends' wandered off to..."
"Isandril? Between the two of us, we ought to be able to lead the others along...but you're probably a better tracker than me. Still, I can keep an eye on your back while you do the honors. And we should be a sight more quiet than everyone else."
The half-elf draws an arrow and loosely nocks it in his shortbow for now, obviously intent on guarding the party as they move on.
"And you are better at making yourself both unseen and unheard than I am," Isandril returns with a smile. "Still, I will try my best."
With those words the elven warrior focuses on the business at hand, crouching down in order to get a better look of the various tracks left by their attackers and Bran's would-be kidnappers. The various broken branches and crashed grass make for tell-tale signs of passage and Isandril tries to be as quiet as he can while leading the rest of them along the trail.
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"Aye Aye I am about as subtle as a bleeding swimmer is to a shark. You go on ahead, just leave us enough clues to follow your path, come get us, or send up a signal to rush ahead. Torden and I will be tromping behind you by about 10-15 minutes. Singing. Loudly. Com'n on Torden lets practice, you should know this one." Yuuwa softly starts to to sing "Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho, Its off to work we go..."
She lifts her shield from where it hangs on her backpack and places it on her left forearm, and lightly twirls her trident, all the while humming/whispering that annoying little tune until a glare (strong enough to turn seawater to steam) from Torden shuts her up with a slight smirk.
Wheezing occasionally, Origen follows along behind Yuuwa. As the party forges into the unfamiliar jungle, he keeps looking around warily, careful of another ambush.
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Yuuwa snickers aloud,"That is an excellent point, Origen. Gozreh has provided me with three Endure Elements during this morning constitutional. I'll be happy to spread Gozreh's providence to any who ask."
She looks expectantly at Torden, then glances at Jonagher and Isandril as they make motions to disappear into the undergrowth.
Torden wipes the sweat from his brow.
"Respite from this heavy heat would be most welcome. I'm not sure how much further I might make it. My night was restless, and the poor rest combined with this heat is certainly weighing me down."
Torden accepts any and all help offered.
Jonagher and Isandril disappear into the jungle ahead. Isandril moving like a ghost, while Jonagher making just enough of a trail for the others to follow.
Origen points out the trail to the others as the elves move quietly and carefully through the underbrush.
As the group travels east by southeast, you come into a natural clearing that has a good vantage point nearly all the way around.
You see that the land that you are on is a pensula almost, thin like the blade of a sickle or crab claw. There is a large bay of water to your south, that opens to the west.
As you continue on to a gentle and overgrown saddle directly to the south of your encampment:
Origen stops for a moment in the clearing and looks out over the bay. He closes his eyes, enjoying the breeze after the jungle's dark heat.
But the respite is brief. Back under the tree canopy, Origen looks at the ground in barely concealed frustration.
"Do you see the trail, Yuuwa? What about you, Torden? I think that the sun's dazzled my eyes."
The glare off the water is too much for Torden to see much of anything, but he feels relieved to have the hat on his head relieving the pressure of the elements.
"I see the trail. But we should probably close the gap a bit."
Once the group reaches the clearing, Isandril takes advantage of the vantage point it provides and, after a good look, points to the sky. "Do you see over there? I know they are far off, but there are creatures flying. At first I thought they were birds, but they seem more like flying lizards to me. Perhaps they are what Sasha was looking for? I am fairly certain I can get us there if we want to do so."
After moving onward, having reached an overgrown saddle south of the encampment, the elf seems to frown momentarily before calling out to the rest of the companions in a soft and low voice. "There are tracks here, a trail. If I am not mistaken, there is a predator's den nearby."
As the group travels east by southeast, you come into a natural clearing that has a good vantage point nearly all the way around. You see that the land that you are on is a pensula almost, thin like the blade of a sickle or crab claw. There is a large bay of water to your south, that opens to the west.
"Well, now...ain't that a pretty sight," Jonagher quips, "Our home sweet home."
"Do you see over there? I know they are far off, but there are creatures flying. At first I thought they were birds, but they seem more like flying lizards to me. Perhaps they are what Sasha was looking for? I am fairly certain I can get us there if we want to do so."
At Isandril's words, he glances in the same direction as the elf.
"You sure? They just look like birds to me. I wonder if any of them would make a good meal? I've heard some jungle birds are quite tasty...about the same as a chicken."
As you continue on to a gentle and overgrown saddle directly to the south of your encampment...
"There are tracks here, a trail. If I am not mistaken, there is a predator's den nearby."
"What kind of predator do you think it is?" Jonagher asks his scouting partner. "I'll admit, I'd have probably walked right into its lair if it weren't for your sharp eyes."
Once the group reaches the clearing, Isandril takes advantage of the vantage point it provides and, after a good look, points to the sky. . . . . I am fairly certain I can get us there if we want to do so."
. . . before calling out to the rest of the companions in a soft and low voice. "There are tracks here, a trail. If I am not mistaken, there is a predator's den nearby."
Origen says softly to Torden and Yuuwa, "We'd better catch up to the scouts."
Once the three of them have closed the gap, Origen continues, "Do you know what it is, Isandril? I'm loathe to ignore something that may be a threat, but I'd rather not pick a fight when we can go around it."
"I am not sure," the warrior answers as he moves closer to the tracks in order to get a better look. "I suppose we could move closer to its lair, try to determine if it is a threat to the camp."
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"Origen, keep your hat allow me to Cast Endure Elements on Dwarven one."
Yuuwa enjoying the brief respite from the heat on the vantage point, casts Endure Elements upon Torden, followed closely with another one upon herself.
"I've another casting for any that may need it but only the wise dwarf requested. To change the subject just a bit, I agree to let sleeping predators lie. We've already the cannibals or perhaps Aggressively Friendly Natives who failed to properly introduce themselves and do do so again. Rather just stick to the known predator right now.
"Hold on a second, I think... Yuuwa drops her backpack, rummaging around with her hand, eyes closed briefly before bringing out her map tube. "Lessee here, AHAA! None too quiet in her excitement, she unrolls a map, glances again at the bay and points to her map. We are here, the encampment is about here, with the shipwreck here. Yuuwa rolls back unto her heels, quite satisfied with herself.
The signs of the den, pointed out by some of the group, seem to move more towards the coast, while the trail sets a more southerly course.
The sun is getting higher in the slightly cloudy sky. A light wind is coming in from the ocean, and it is relatively cool in comparison to previous days, though the mugginess still causes problems. With the magical support of Gozreh and the hat, most of the crew seems quite comfortable.
"Thanks, Yuuwa. For some reason, the heat's bothering me more today."
"Well, looks as if we have a choice. Shall we follow Bran's kidnappers, or look for the beast's den?"
"Well, looks as if we have a choice. Shall we follow Bran's kidnappers, or look for the beast's den?"
"Better to refrain from stirring up trouble where we don't have any and focus on where we do," Jonagher offers, "It was one thing to track down and slay that predator snake we discovered. Quite another to hunt a larger beast. Besides, I'm more worried about those with the ability to think and target us. We need to find Bran's would-be abductors and assess the threat they pose to our camp...and continued survival."
"I agree that the warrior's would-be kidnappers should be our priority now," Isandril nods. "I would hate to have them turn their sights on our little camp and perhaps start taking people."
"However," he adds, "we should at the very least determine that whatever animal or other creature dwells in that lair is not going to prove as much a threat to the campsite as the natives who almost took Bran."
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Yuuwa thinks for a moment, twirling the base of her trident idly into the ground. "If this truly a threat, why haven't our neighbors dealt with it by now? It is unlikely they are ignorant of it. So it is either a serious predator that deserves a wide berth, or perhaps is elusive enough to avoid the natives this long...." Yuuwa snaps her fingers. "That must've been a simple scouting or hunting party we encountered, large enough to avoid being prey themselves, small enough to have some stealth.
She looks at her map again, forehead wrinkled in thought trying to scry out the logical campsite of the natives.
Torden looks hesitantly around at the indications of the predator that his companions pointed out to him.
"I hate to leave whatever it is at our backs, but if we can avoid a fight and believe it might have no interest in our camp, then let's avoid it."
Torden continues to wring his hands nervously around the grip of his hammer.
"If we're gonna move on, let's get goin'. Pretty soon whatever it is will get a whiff of Mr. Witt. . . Though that might serve to repel it."
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"So we are in agreement?" She glances at each in turn. "Great. Lets continue hunting. Us noisy folk can be the bait, and you stealthly types can parrellel to ambush the inevitable ambushers or scout ahead, get ambushed and delay long enough for us to hit them like a Viking Galley."
She rolls up her map, rearranges her backpack and shield, and strikes a pose on the trail indicated by Isandril to lead to our friendly neighborhood islanders.
"I think so, Yuuwa."
"Using stealth makes sense to me too, Jonagher, but you and Isandril are a lot quieter than the rest of us. How much of a gap do you need so that our noise doesn't give you away?"
"If you signal us somehow when you see them, we'll stop moving so that we don't give away our position."
When they continue on the path to the kidnappers, Origen tries to move through the jungle as quietly as he can.
"Using stealth makes sense to me too, Jonagher, but you and Isandril are a lot quieter than the rest of us. How much of a gap do you need so that our noise doesn't give you away?"
"Oh...about a mile, maybe?" Jonagher jokes, "Or, even better...you could go that way, while Isandril and I go this way. Between you, Torden, and Yuuwa, you'll make a perfect distraction by drawing everyone's attention away from us." The half-elf can't help but laugh at his own good humor.
"If you signal us somehow when you see them, we'll stop moving so that we don't give away our position."
"I think we should keep moving together until we see some sign of the kidnappers' presence...a trail...a sentry...smoke from a cookfire...the sounds of someone going through the daily routine of a campsite...or even a tribal marker, maybe. Then, the rest of you stay put while Isandril and I venture ahead a bit to get a better sense of what we've found."
"Yeah, together, let's stick together." The unfamiliar environment, the signs of the predator and the possibility of cannibals or some such threat has shaken Torden. "But you stealthy folks, you take the lead."
Torden puts himself near the rear of the group, certain that something nasty will leap from the dense brush with little or no warning.
"Blast it, Origin," he curses at the sorcerer who found and stepped on the only dry twig on the island, "watch yourself."
"Yeah, together, let's stick together." The unfamiliar environment, the signs of the predator and the possibility of cannibals or some such threat has shaken Torden. "But you stealthy folks, you take the lead."
Torden puts himself near the rear of the group, certain that something nasty will leap from the dense brush with little or no warning.
"Blast it, Origin," he curses at the sorcerer who found and stepped on the only dry twig on the island, "watch yourself."
"Be calm Torden," Isandril says softly as he puts a hand on the dwarf's shoulder, his expression one of reassurance as he talks. "All will be well as long as we watch each other's backs."
"Now, shall we move along?" The elf moves ahead, but not too far, waiting for the rest of them to join him before starting to walk down the path leading to wherever the trail they have been following ends. 'Most probably the abductors' camp or village,' he thinks to himself.
"What is that expression humans use? We are wasting daylight?" His eyes are on the tracks left behind by their quarry as he attempts to move as quietly as he is can.
"What is that expression humans use? We are wasting daylight?"
"Oh, I don't know that we're wasting it so much as enjoying it," Jonagher quips as he stares around, peering into the jungle for any sign of others who may be aware of their presence. "I, for one, love a healthy stroll among the sunbeams streaming from a jungle canopy..."
"Indeed, you do make a fine point, Cousin," Isandril nods in agreement. "Were things but a little different I would certainly enjoy it a little more, because I am not blind to the beauty of the place despite our current predicament."
However, he adds with a wink, "Yet you cannot deny that adventure awaits and its call is something quite tempting."
"Blast it, Origin," he curses at the sorcerer who found and stepped on the only dry twig on the island, "watch yourself."
"Sorry, I thought I saw something in the brush." Origen looks all around for any sign of an ambush by Bran's kidnappers. Unfortunately, his dual focus doesn't help him much at keeping quiet, and he makes much more noise than his companions.
"Yet you cannot deny that adventure awaits and its call is something quite tempting."
"Calling like a sweet siren..." Jonagher agrees.
- Origen: Stealth: 3
- Torden: Stealth: 16
- Isandril: Stealth: 23
- Yuuwa: Stealth: 20
- Jonagher: Stealth: 18
- Origen: Perception: 10
- Torden: Perception: 18
- Isandril: Perception: 13
- Yuuwa: Perception: 14
- Jonagher: Perception: 24
- Isandril: Survival: 14
- Yuuwa: Survival: 21
Though Isandril and Yuuwa are distracted, Torden and Jonagher pick out individual tracks that would indicate the nearby predator den belongs to something with clawed feet like a bird, but are small.
All of the group members spot the continued trail, leading generally southward. It seems to be following a cliff face that disappears into the jungle.
As you continue on south, you travel another 2 hours, and perhaps another 4 miles and you come to another small clearing where the tracks pause for a moment. It is close if not exactly midday. There are two rivers that flow together here, and then both head east. A large grove of thorny vines grow on these river banks, presenting a seven-foot-tall wall of green leaves and intimidating six-inch red thorns.
There is also a broken mast sticking up, toward the east. From this distance, you can barely make out torn sails, but it is distinct.
- Is the snake home? : 1-50 = Away, 51-100 = Home
- Is the Giant Crab home? : 1-50 = Away, 51-100 = Home
"Let's hold up here a second, gentlemen..." Jonagher announces, then hastily adds, "...and ladies..." to include Yuuwa. The half-elf bends down to assess a variety of tracks for several moments. Finally, he calls Isandril over as well.
"See these?" he gestures, "An odd series of tracks. And those are some wide drag marks. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was a crab, pushing along with its front claws while its smaller legs scrabble forward. But if so, it's a really big one. Not those small things we've been hunting for the stewpot down by the beach."
"And over there..." He points northeast. "There's footprints. I'd say two individuals as they're not all the same. And they're coming from that direction, headed vaguely in same way as the larger ones. Maybe a couple of hunters stalking the beast? Could be our kidnapper friends trying to catch something for their own stewpot...or, stewpots if they've got a lot of mouths to feed."
"Either way, we're not alone out here. And both trails head off that way...west by southwest. The big ones are angled toward the beach. But I'm not really sure if the others are following it or just happened by here a lot earlier and this thing happened to cross their path just like we did."