"So it might be two hunters after this crab--or the crab hunting them. Shall we try to track them, or keep following Bran's attackers?"
Origen looks warily at the vines from a distance, trying to remember if they look like any of the poisonous--or animate--Mwangi plants that he's seen in books. "What do you make of those, Torden?"
"What do you make of those, Torden?"
Torden listens in on the conversation regarding giant crabs and the possibility of men being the hunted. The heat becomes a little more intense and he pulls his leather armor away from his neck.
"What do you make of those, Torden?"
He continues to wring his hands around his warhammer, tightening his grip as he considers both the tracks and the dense jungle.
"What do you make of those, Torden?"
"Huh? Oh, yes, uh, the vines, well . . ."
"So it might be two hunters after this crab--or the crab hunting them. Shall we try to track them, or keep following Bran's attackers?"
"I think it's better to follow these hunters," Jonagher offers, "We outnumber them. And, if they're from the camp or village of Bran's attackers, we might be able to overpower and interrogate them for more information so we know what we're getting into..."
"Also," he adds, "If we move beyond this point and leave the hunters behind us, they could cut off our retreat or cause us problems. I'd rather deal with this one small problem now and see what more it gives us in terms of our decision-making."
|
"I agree with Mr. Witt. Lets cast our net on these two fish first. We can return the favor of Press Gang tactics. That is if the larger party is not heading towards our camp. Regardless, they did take Bran alive, so if they do strike at our camp odds are they'll try the same tactic. Hopefully." Yuuwa wiping the sweat from her brow, thankful of her Endure Elements spell, but not sure which is more stressful. the heat or figuring out which prey/predator role they are in.
"I also concur," Isandril offers as well. "It is better to deal with this now rather than leave it for later and have it get in our way when the situation is less advantageous."
As he makes ready to move down the path the large crab and the pair of hunters seem to have taken, he does notice the dwarven bard examining the thorny vines by the river bank.
"What do you make of those, Torden? Anything of interest? I seem to recall Aerys mentioning some plants that might be of use to her."
Studying the tracks of the two "hunters" heading in the same direction as the giant crab, you note that the tracks are older, and that they were wearing shoes or boots. These are not tracks left behind by somone barefoot. The set of three tracks you have been following so far have been of barefoot bipedal individuals.
Also, these other tracks seem older...perhaps 4 or 5 days. They are solid, but also aged.
"Ahh, the vines," Torden replies after studying them for a long time.
"Those are the viper nettles that Aerys spoke of. They contain a berry that she's been looking for. Let me see if I can gather some for her."
"That's a stroke of luck, Torden. I was expecting that they were Sargavan strangler vines or something even nastier."
Origen keeps a close eye on his friend in case that a snake is hidden in the vines.
"Not only are they older tracks," Isandril voices his thoughts as he looks at the trail left by the crab and the two 'hunters', "but the pair who made them seem at least more civilized than Bran's kidnappers, if the fact that they seem to be wearing shoes or boots is any indication."
"We might as well find out if they are potential allies before we continue on our pursuit of the savages," he offers, before adding with a thin smile. "And if they are foes as well, it will mean one more loose end taken care of."
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"Ah yes, Torden, I do believe these berries match Aerys description. I wouldn't have given this a second glance but for your scrutiny. Let us grab some wide palm fronds and wrap a bunch within. I volunteer placing these in your backpack." [wink and sly grin] Yuuwa goes about looking for several palm fronds to wrap the viper berry bounty, whilst the others debate course of action. If asked she'll respond that she would much prefer the fresher barefoot tracks for purely emotional vendatta reason. As an afterthought, the booted hunters imply resources, perhaps enough to get off this isle.
Yuuwa breaks out the map yet again, as says there is a lighthouse, purportedly haunted, in this area, we are approx here. Two trails crossing, perhaps this island is not so desolate as one might think.
Yuuwa puzzles over this.
Torden begins to gingerly pick his way through the thorny nettle vines towards the center of the large grove. The ground is covered, and the going is more difficult than originally perceived. It takes him roughly a minute to crawl and grunt his way through. Three times, some 6 inch long bright red thorns manage to find purchase on his skin, causing some minor bleeding. He takes about 10 minutes to harvest the berries, being poked twice more, gathering about a dozen handfuls of the berries. He then crawls his way back, being poked three more times. When he exits, he has a sack full of berries, and 10 angry welts about him that begin to itch and ooze almost immediately. He trembles a little as he exits the patch, and vomits, turning away from the group at the last possible moment to spray the vines with his stomach contents.
Reflex 1: vs. DC 12
Reflex 2: vs. DC 12
Reflex 3: vs. DC 12
Reflex 4: vs. DC 12
Reflex 5: vs. DC 12
Reflex 6: vs. DC 12
Fortitude for Reflex 2: vs. DC 14
Fortitude for Reflex 5: vs. DC 14
Fortitude for Reflex 6: vs. DC 14
Reflex 7: vs. DC 12
Reflex 8: vs. DC 12
Reflex 9: vs. DC 12
Reflex 10: vs. DC 12
Fortitude for Reflex 9: vs. DC 14
Fortitude for Reflex 10: vs. DC 14
Reflex 11: vs. DC 12
Reflex 12: vs. DC 12
Reflex 13: vs. DC 12
Reflex 14: vs. DC 12
Reflex 15: vs. DC 12
Reflex 16: vs. DC 12
Fortitude for Reflex 11: vs. DC 14
Fortitude for Reflex 12: vs. DC 14
Fortitude for Reflex 16: vs. DC 14
Total:
- -10 HP
- Sickened for 24 Hours
- 12x handfuls of Viper Nettle Berries, Bright Red
"Torden!" Origen rushes over to his friend. "Yuuwa, can we treat this poison somehow?"
Origen assists any way that he can, though he realizes that he's too ignorant of leechcraft to treat Torden by himself.
Unfortunately, he's little help.
Origen wipes his forehead and looks down at the tracks. "Isandril, do the tracks split off toward that river? And those small ones that you pointed out look a little funny to me . . . ."
"Well that was considerably more difficult and painful than I'd first thought. Those thorns are nasty. Cursed vines."
Jonagher sits back and cleans his nails with the dagger they took from the earlier shipwreck. Upon seeing Torden crawl back out of the thorny patch of nettles, he makes a sour face. "Ooooh, that looks painful..."
Unfortunately, there's little else he can do for their poor dwarven friend, so he goes back to cleaning his nails...and staying away from the nettles.
* * *
Later, upon following the tracks, Jonagher frowns and shades his eyes against the sun to look along the banks of the tributary. "This is an awful lot of trouble to go looking for these two. One seems a bit bigger than the other. Kind of an odd pairing. Could the smaller tracks be a child? Or just some small-footed creature, perhaps? Regardless, we should be prepared that they may not be like us. And that could...complicate things...depending on how well they receive us."
Torden fights against the cramp in his stomach, and curses the fact that even in the oppressive heat of the jungle he still feels chilled.
"Why might they not like us, Mr. Witt? It might only be that they don't know us yet."
With that, Torden turns and retches again.
"Because the stories the crew of the Jenivere shared about this place had nothing but bad things to say about anyone who ever came here...or anything that ever lived here. So far, in all our experiences here, we've found no one I'd consider a friend or an ally. I think it's unlikely we'll find any other than our fellow survivors. But I'd be happy to be proven wrong."
Origen looks worriedly at Torden. If he gets any worse, we'll have to get him back to camp.
"Let us know if you need to rest--or to drink some antitoxin, Torden. No sense in making yourself suffer for nothing."
". . . I think it's unlikely we'll find any other than our fellow survivors. But I'd be happy to be proven wrong."
"Look on the bright side, Jonagher. We're meeting new, interesting creatures undreamt of in Absalom." Origen slaps at an orange mosquito-like bug almost an inch long that had settled on his neck. "And if we're surrounded by nothing but hostile natives, think of how many opportunities that you'll have to impress Sasha with your derring-do."
"But seriously, I think that you're right on both counts. Still, I'd rather try to find a small, possibly hostile group than a big, probably hostile one."
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"Goodness Gracious Gozreh Almighty! I should have a talk with your Mother about your bull-headedness. It looks like you went swimming in those thorns instead of picking berries. You... Ah nevermind.... Let me cast cure light wounds on you, although, if its poison let me see about cleaning your wounds of any residual poisons first. Really. UGH! Vomit AWAY from me."
Yuuwa cleans the scratches and removes bits of thorns under Torden skin.
Heal
"Almighty Gozreh, please reduce the suffering of BriarPatchDwarf to just mildly annoying"
Channel Heal 1 of 6
Yuuwa cleanses the wounds for Torden, then summons the healing prayers of Gozreh. Though the pain from the wounds is lessened, the poison still sickens inside.
The group follows after the set of booted tracks, following after the giant crab track left in the sand. They move away from the convergence of the two rivers, and head toward the beach. The tracks move away from the crab tracks and head southwest by south once again. The group follows it for another mile along the river, heading upstream. The river is relatively narrow (20 ft) but deep (approximate average of 15 feet) As the sun nears the horizon once again, signaling the end of another day, the group finds themselves looking out on the island from atop what appears to be a mesa. There are ridges all the way around, dropping a decent bow shot down to the ground below. If you had to hazard a guess, you would put it roughly at a hundred feet to the island lowland areas.
To the west, near the base of the ridge you can see a fifty-foot-diameter clearing in the jungle that allows the sun to beat down upon a field of wilted-looking plants, their leaves a sickly, diseased yellow.
Further west of that, near the shore, you can spot a rather pathetic collection of shelters poorly made from driftwood.
To the east you can see a ninety-foot-long shipwreck that leans against the cliff side and several jagged reefs, encrusted with salt and moss. Its masts remain intact, but the sails have long since rotted away. From this distance, it is hard to make out much more in this failing light.
You can see that you have perhaps but a hour or two left of daylight. Not enough to return to camp while it remains light out for sure.
"Quite the view from up here," Jonagher notes aloud as he notes the various landmarks in the distance, "I daresay we could find as much adventure on this godsforsaken isle as the Mwangi Jungle itself."
He pauses for a moment and scratches his chin while squinting at the evening sun. "So, I suppose we're camping for the night. We'd better secure some high ground in case that pair of explorers we've been tracking come back this way...or Bran's abductors follow our own trail here."
"And I hope the others stay safe by the shore..."
"Ahh Miss Majid, I thank you," Torden says after she has called on the power of Gozreh to aid him. He pushes back the urge to chastise her for her commentary.
Then Torden eyes the berries. He knows he should take them all back to Aerys, but he eats some anyway, to see if they will cure him from his sickness.
-------
"Perhaps those folks down in the shelters would put us up for the night?" Torden offers hopefully.
"Quite the view from up here," Jonagher notes aloud as he notes the various landmarks in the distance, "I daresay we could find as much adventure on this godsforsaken isle as the Mwangi Jungle itself."
He pauses for a moment and scratches his chin while squinting at the evening sun. "So, I suppose we're camping for the night. We'd better secure some high ground in case that pair of explorers we've been tracking come back this way...or Bran's abductors follow our own trail here."
"And I hope the others stay safe by the shore..."
"Well, as far as adventure goes," Isandril quips, "we have certainly gotten off to a good start. A shipwreck, a mystery and castaways of unknown pasts and uncertain futures. Certainly the stuff great tales are made of."
"As for our camp, I would not worry too much. Between Bran and Leofrik, not to mention the fact that some of the passengers seem rather capable of taking care of themselves, things should go well enough."
"Perhaps those folks down in the shelters would put us up for the night?" Torden offers hopefully.
"I am not so sure of going down there at night and without a little reconnaissance first," the warrior says after a moment's thought. "Perhaps in the morning, but for tonight I think I would prefer the high ground, even if it does sound a little less comfortable." The last few words are accompanied by a wink aimed at Torden.
Origen looks at the shipwreck a little regretfully. "I suppose that it does make sense to camp while it's still light. Have we lost the tracks? Which direction do they go?"
"Well, Torden, we'll have a chance to talk to them tomorrow. Let's hope that they're not the people who attacked Bran."
Origen helps Isandril and his companions try to get ready for the night.
"No fire, I suppose? On a high place like this, I expect it'd be like a beacon."
"No fire," Jonagher agrees, "I'll take the early evening watch. Torden should probably take the darkest hours. And Isandril the early morning. Between the three of us, our eyes will stand the better chance of spotting anything."
The half-elf then lowers his pack and makes sure his bow and quiver remain nearby...
“Uh,” Torden again looks worried as he rubs at the welts on his forearms, “you think those folks might have been the ones who tried to tote off Bran?
“Yeah, let’s rest here—no fire. I can take middle watch.”
Glancing down the slope the whole time Torden unslings his drum, his warhammer, and takes off his armor and shield. Prior to resting during the first watch, he chants out a spell, invoking the name of Grundinnar-the Peacekeeper.
Origen looks at the shipwreck a little regretfully.
Noticing the man's expression, Isandril smiles and places a hand on Origen's shoulder. "I am sure we will get round to visiting that ship, if for no other reason than curiosity and the call of adventure. Besides, we have been asked to look for a couple of specific shipwrecks or three if I recall correctly. I would hate to disappoint the others."
"Although I would somewhat prefer it if no undead haunted this one," the elf adds as an afterthought.
He then turns to Jonagher. "That sounds like a plan. I might as well get some rest then and be ready for my turn." With those words, the warrior starts helping with setting up their campsite before turning in for the night.
"I'll share first with you, Jonagher. If something lairing nearby wakes up at sundown, we'll want a second pair of eyes."
Origen stays up for the first watch, chatting with Jonagher occasionally and looking back toward the rest of the island to look for any lights.
The campsite was well chosen, as there is no interruption throughout the night. The slight sea breeze keeps the mosquitos away, and the moon and stars are brilliant. You can hear the howler monkey's off in the distance, and the beating of large wings off and on throughout the night.
The tracks are easy to regain in the morning, the campsite you found wasn't far off the trail. These tracks swing around the headwaters, and head back east by northeast to come off this ridge.
The wrecked ship is still visible through the morning mists.
The town seems to have some sort of morning fog coming in from the bay.
The yellow flowers look somewhat more so in the morning light.
For a change, Origen sleeps soundly, though Torden and Isandril notice that he occasionally tosses and turns when the monkeys howl.
The next morning, he reclaims his hat from Torden and sits down next to the dwarf. "You know, I can make this hardtack taste like roast beef with magic, but I can't do anything about the texture. Torden, you should put that in your chronicle to inspire some academic to research one."
Origen hands some rations to his friend. Those viper nettle stings look as if they still hurt. A lot. "How are you feeling, Torden?"
"I'd say that we should follow the tracks before they're washed away by more rain. But the shipwreck and huts are both things that we'll have to investigate too. What do you think should be our next step, everyone?"
FYI:
For DM:
You wake, feeling somewhat nauseous.
"I'd say that we should follow the tracks before they're washed away by more rain. But the shipwreck and huts are both things that we'll have to investigate too. What do you think should be our next step, everyone?"
"We should continue following the tracks before the rain comes," Jonagher suggests. "The shipwreck and huts aren't going anywhere, so we can explore them anytime. Maybe more safely too, once we know who else is out here."
He pauses for moment and frowns at some discomfort in his stomach. "I might also add we should start boiling our water. There's no telling what kind of parasites are living in these creeks and streams. Either that...or something's just not sitting well with me from all these trail rations."
Torden scribbles in his journal as the group breaks camp, though he often looks distracted, glancing to the underbrush and rubbing his ankles. His eyes look tired and his skin is still irritated from the viper nettles.
"You know, I can make this hardtack taste like roast beef with magic, but I can't do anything about the texture. Torden, you should put that in your chronicle to inspire some academic to research one."
Origen hands some rations to his friend. Those viper nettle stings look as if they still hurt. A lot. "How are you feeling, Torden?"
"Huh?" He doesn't look at Origen, but takes the hardtack from him. His eyes remain fixed on the underbrush, pen poised above the page. "Yes. . .academic research on vipers . . . yeah, that would be good."
"Boiling the water? If you say so, Jonagher. I was helping Frik with that back at camp, though I've never understood how temporarily increasing the phlogiston in water helps prevent disease."
"Huh?" He doesn't look at Origen, but takes the hardtack from him. His eyes remain fixed on the underbrush, pen poised above the page. "Yes. . .academic research on vipers . . . yeah, that would be good."
"We still have some time to rest before we head out. That might help."
He's worse than I thought. I wish that I'd brought to bring some medicine from the camp, but maybe Yuuwa can help.
Origen keeps an eye on Torden as the companions get ready for the day's march.
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Yuuwa rubs the sleep from her eyes, having apparently lived in a mental fog today.
DM Berwick
Yuuwa wakes with consternation that Torden has not yet thrown off the effects of the nettle poison. She casts in the following order (if feasible)
1) Cantrip "Detect Poison"
2) Cantrip "Guidance"
Yuuwa Attempts another Healing Check Mumbling to herself that Torden's Dwarven constitution does not make him a briar rabbit. She checks for infection which she can treat with a channeling. Otherwise, once she is done she'll cast Endure Elements and maintain a close vigilance on Torden.
"Well, decision time. The civilized campsite or our friendly neighborhood cannibals?" Yuuwa pauses for a moment, "We can try the campsite, perhaps Gozreh's blessings will provide a more receptive audience in Torden's time of need?"
Through the light banter in the morning, Yuuwa tends to Torden, and manages to assist him in feeling better. His rashes clear up, and the itchiness goes away. The swelling reduces to something more akin to normal, and for all intents and purposes, seems healed.
The group looks out over the ridge, down to the campsite below near the bay. Two routes seem to present themselves: along with the tracks they were following to the bottom of this ridge to the east, and then back around; or straight down the ridge, traversing a 100 ft. drop to the island lowlands below with an option to check out that huge patch of yellow flowers near the base of the ridge, or skirt that and come down a little closer to where the adventurer's slept.
Origen looks down the steep drop. "We have some ropes, but that's a long way down. Maybe we should leave the flowers for another day."
"Unless one of you can see that the flowers are special somehow. Torden? Isandril?"
"Oh, much better, thank you Ms. Majid," Torden stretches and dons his armor. "Though I must say my rest was fretful, full of snake-filled dreams."
"Bah, that climb doesn't look too difficult."
"Now those flowers, they look interesting," he continues.
Jonagher fearlessly leans out over the drop, gauging the distance to the bottom.
"Anyone have any rope?" he asks, "I've a length of around 50 feet, but that wouldn't be enough to make it down. Not sure we should bother with it, though. Looks like that other route will take us down the ridge, too. We'll just be a bit foot sore for our trouble, I imagine. The tracks already go that way. So, it looks like our friends preferred the easier, less dangerous route to this one."
"Now those flowers, they look interesting," he continues.
"Haven't you had enough brushes with the local flora on this island already, master dwarf?" Jonagher returns with an amused smile.
"I tend to agree with Jonagher," Isandril offers. "There is little reason to scale this cliff when a safer, albeit longer, way presents itself. Although I am a fairly good climber and would not mind the exercise, I think that it would be better if we all made it to our destination in one piece."
"As for the flowers," the elf says as he tries to take a better look at the yellow plants in the distance, "I am not really willing to consider them that much of a priority, at least for the time being."
"I have about that much rope too, Jonagher."
The grim look that Origen has had for most of the morning softens, and he smiles at Jonagher's quip.
Torden must be feeling better if he's willing to run the risk of a lethal fall to look at a jungle flower.
"The slope, then. Don't worry, Torden, I'm sure that you'll have another chance to write about one of us falling off a rope."
As you look down up the plants, there seems to be some larger bumps in the middle of this field of flowers.
Breaking camp in the morning, the weather seems fair and calm.
The trackers in the group find the trail again, as it winds its way back to the north, on the other side of the deeper river.
As you come off the ridge, you spot a few more wrecks up and down the coast, as well as a strange rock formation to the south, jutting up out of the jungle.
As you come off the ridge, following the tracks into a natural saddle terrain feature...
As you near a natural bay, the sunken ship you saw earlier stands firm against the rocky shore.
You continue on your trek, hugging the ridge, and following the tracks through the jungle. You have covered roughly 6 miles since your started trekking, and suddenly come across a trail. It has been 12 hours since this morning. Hacking your way through this jungle.
The trail perhaps once was a game trail, but has been deliberately expanded, and the ground has been beaten smooth and hard by frequent use. It is much easier to move on than bushwhacking through the jungle. The trail runs north, past the ridge to the huts you saw earlier, and south toward another cliff and some more trees...at least from this vantage.
As you come to a spot in the trail where it T's with another heading for the huts you saw earlier...
- Attack [13] vs. your CMD.
- If succeeds: You gain the grappled condition, and are yanked 10 feet in the air to slam against a set of sharpened stakes.
- If fails: Snare snaps shut and launches upward into the air. A tree branch straightening and pulling it quickly out of sight.
Origen stops for a moment to rest, staring again at the closest shipwreck. "Torden, Yuuwa, do you think we should at least see what the name is? It may be a ship that we're looking for."
Origen calls out suddenly, "Look out! There's a snare in the path!"
Noting the various places of interest, such as more shipwrecks and an odd-looking rock formation to the south, Isandril makes it a point to remember them. "Quite a few places to visit, yes? It almost makes me feel like a tourist," he quips with a chuckle. "We should make sure to visit the sights, I think."
As the adventurers make their way off the ridge and into a natural saddle terrain feature, the elf pauses for a moment. "More crab tracks, but they seem a little different and older than the ones we were following earlier. As far as I can tell, there are no recent signs of this new creature's presence. Something to keep in mind?"
Moving in relative silence along the tracks and then the widened trail they find, Isandril keeps his eyes on the path, occasionally scanning the surroundings for any surprises. Sure enough, he manages to spot one such surprise. "Hold!"
Crouching down, he calls to Jonagher. "I believe this is somewhat more up your alley, as I believe the phrase goes?" He points to a part of the path, a snare hidden there under dirt and leaves.
"I believe you're right," Jonagher replies once Isandril points out the trap ahead. "It's interesting that someone set this here. Even more evidence that we're not alone. Maybe there are other castaways here? Or maybe all those rumors about the dangers of Smuggler's Shiv result from whoever lives here?"
"Either way..." he notes, "Let's see if we can't overcome this obstacle and outsmart them, eh?"
Just as Isandril and Jonagher are continuing foward, scouting out the route, Isandril notices the trap, and Jonagher sets it off safely, using a branch to set off the trap.
The branch is yanked up into the noose, and pulled into the air about ten feet, before slamming into a double set of spikes in the side of a tree. Sharpened and deadly, this trap would have spelled certain doom had it not been for the keen eyes of the scouts.
The walk further into the campsite is quiet, with no more traps detected.
The campsite consists of several small shelters made from driftwood, though all have mostly collapsed.
Standing in the center of the camp, an unmoving figure stands rocking slightly, and staring out to sea. It appears to be slender in stature, but is covered by a thick greenish cloak that covers it from head to toe.
The serf is constant in the background, through quiet. There is a low moaning on the breeze.
Standing in the center of the camp, an unmoving figure stands rocking slightly, and staring out to sea. It appears to be slender in stature, but is covered by a thick greenish cloak that covers it from head to toe.
Jonagher quietly readies an arrow in his shortbow and motions to the others to fan out while the figure seems distracted by the waves in the distance. He then continues moving toward the edge of their half-circle approach to get a better look at the individual from the side.
Following the rogue's example, Isandril starts moving into the camp as quietly as he can. Be it bad luck or lack of skill and training, however, the elf steps on a twig, snapping it and making enough noise for the lone figure to hear and turn towards him.
As he takes a good look at what at first seemed to him like a green-cloaked person, the elf's eyes widen. "That is no man! A zombie," he calls out, "and a green one at that. And is that... vegetation on it?"
Remembering his last encounter with such a creature, the warrior opts to draw two of his daggers, wielding one in each hand as he moves towards the enemy in order to draw its attention away from the rest.
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Yuuwa's eyes widen with the effectiveness and thoroughness of the snare. She hangs back to inspect it briefly, casting detect poison on the spikes just out of morbid curiousity. Glancing around, noticing she has once again fallen last in line, she resumes the trek to the beach.
Observing Jonagher and Isandril drawing weapons and getting sneaky, she opts to hang back, making minimal movement as opposed to ruining any attempt they have at surprise.
"Torden, what goes on within this castaway village?" She grips her shield and holds her trident ready, while kneeling behind a decripit shelter. While she looks for what holds Jonagher's focus, her eyes are constantly drawn to the horizon, scanning the shipwrecks for other signs of life.