Calla fires another shot, frowning as her effort to make sure she doesn't hit a colleague ends up sending it wide.
"Go deal with the one on AB, Lef! I've got this one!"
"So be it, and may Gorum and Desna show me just a little favor ..."
The barbarian attacks the one on his goblin friend as instructed.
"Thank the gods!" He says promptly, as his weapon finally finds purchase
Round 5
Kel keeps smacking at the beast before her, even as Brue and Lefrik slaughter the others.
Anklebiter casts his spell on the notlion in front of him. His smug satisfaction evaporated when the thing continued to attack as if nothing had happened. He barely managed to skip aside from its bite before Lefrik's axe came down, beheading the creature. The barbarian's open back was too good a target for the notlion between him and Bruendor, and it occupied all of the thing's attention. At lease until Bruendor's rapier stabbed in from behind, piercing its brain and dropping it instantly.
Calla couldn't get a decent shot off at the remaining creature, and Samaritha had a bad angle on it as well. Kelendra, on the other hand, was well positioned, and her morning star cracked against the thing's snout. It reeled back in silent agony from the vicious strike, its maw bloody and its tentacles thrashing wildly about.
It didn't take much more to finish the thing off, and then the forest path was still once more. Both of the men that had rushed out onto the road were dead, and a half-dozen of the dark purple beasts lay on the ground, oozing a dark ichor from their wounds
Congratulations, that was a hard fight. Especially with your NPC cowering for half the time. Everyone gets 480 XP
Anklebiter falls to his butt, his skinny chest heaving with exhaustion.
"That was too close," he says, shaking his ears. "Ugh."
The next moment, his head rises in alarm. "Kelendra Healer-Girl, you need to look at Bruendor and Lefrik! I don't want them to shamble around, all tongues-a-lolling! Heal them, heal them, please!"
Lefrik tries not to shiver at the goblin's words. The idea of turning into a shambler terrifies him, but then, what is fear but a chain men put about themselves? His friends need him, and nothing to be sure of his fate can be done. So act as if the fear is meaningless, and go on. "I would not say no to healing..." He looks at his mangled legs.
While Kelendra tends to their comrades, Calla collects her unspent arrow and checks the two strangers to see if there's any clue as to who they may have been.
"Do we need to do something about these, to make sure they don't rise again?"
Calla checks the men over and nothing about them seems unusual for a dock worker or day laborer. Certainly, they have nothing on them like a badge or mark declaring who they might have been with. Of course, if the rumors you heard were true, it is very likely that the only group these men could have been with was the one Zincher led.
While she found no device or insignia, Calla did find the money pouches the two had. More coin than would normally be expected of such men were int he pouches, indicating a recent pay day with no chance to wine or wench it away.
Kel checks her companions wounds, hoping she can prevent whatever affliction is spread by the creatures.
As far as Kelendra can tell, the wounds look normal.
"I don't see any contamination or signs of poison, maybe these aren't the type of wounds that cause the affliction?" Not taking any chances with infection, Kel heals her companions.
"I hope you are right," He feels much better at Kelendra's comment, and better still as his legs improve under her healing magics.
Bruendor also exhales as Kelendra gives him a clean bill of health. "We take no chances. You check us for any signs of turning twice a day until we get back to land. That goes for anyone else we might find on this island. Last thing we need is a licker zombie surprising us in the middle of the night."
"A little gold here," Calla says, tossing the purses to her companions. "I'd say you've earned a share, Samaritha, for your help."
"Let's move on, now. Not going to find anything useful just standing here. 'Biter, do you want my salt water?"
"Yes, please," Anklebiter replies, nodding. "My spell didn't go through at all... Samaritha, did you use a special trick to make yours work?"
"No, but we did find that the creatures are immensely resistant to certain forms of magic. They show almost total immunity to fire spells, for instance. Also, it was postulated that since they make no sounds, they might be completely deaf, which would make them immune to sonic spells as well. Karl proposed an alternate hypothesis..." She broke off with a sab at the mention of her close companion, now lost to the creatures.
"Did you learn anything else?" Calla asks after a moment. "It would have been useful to know that before I wasted magic on it."
She hands her waterskin full of brine to the goblin.
Anklebiter hands back his empty waterskin, and nods thoughtfully.
"So they're immune to heat and sonics... I don't know any cold, electric or acid spells. How do those things do with magic missiles?"
Lefrik puts a comforting hand on Samaritha's shoulder "Answer your own time."
"I did say that they were resistant to some magics when you first showed up. Maybe you weren't paying attention." Samaritha snapped back at Calla.
"This is getting us nowhere," Bruendor says, interrupting the two women as they sniped at each other. "Arguing about who said what when isn't important right now - finding out what the indigos are up to is. Cast blame all you want when we get back to Riddleport proper, but this argument is tabled now."
"Agreed. We're all on the same boat here..well, same island."
"Hmph!"
"Fine!" Samaritha said as she grabbed her pack and hoisted onto her back. She started walking down the trail in the direction of the lighthouse, not waiting to see if any of you would join her.
"We still going there?" Anklebiter asks. "If there's more, we'd be better off running, or jumping into the sea. From a great height."
"Yes, we're still going there," Bruendor said with growing exasperation. "There might be survivors. Even if there aren't, we can get a better view of the surrounding area, and find out what damage the indigos have done to this place." Bruendor hastens after Samaritha, a scowl upon his face. He'd have to find a way to apologize to both her and Calla once they got back to land. Especially Calla. Between shaking hands with a notlion and pissing off a Calistrian, Bruendor favored his chances with a notlion.
Calla scowls and follows after the others, bow as always at the ready.
Kel stays on the heels on Lefrik and Bruendor, convinced the safest location on this island is near the axe and sword of her companions.
Anklebiter shrugs and scuttles after the others. He pauses for a moment to offer Lefrik his quarterstaff.
"Want this to lean on? What with your hurt leg, I mean. Might still be a bit sensitive, I was thinking."
The rest of the trip to the western lighthouse was fairly uneventful. The path leveled out as you got close, though no one could see the lighthouse through the jungle canopy. Finally, the trees opened up and the path continued up a rocky point to a crag jutting out above the sea.
What remained of the lighthouse was a sorry sight. A foundation wall about ten feet high was surrounded by rubble from the fallen lighthouse. More appeared to have fallen over the edge of the crag, as there was nowhere near enough rubble for a complete structure. The advances of time coupled with the jarring impact of the meteorite must have been too much for the old structure.
"We run back to shore?" Anklebiter suggests. "Maybe get out on other tower before sundown and notlions come to hunt again? Or go to Zilcher and watch him get eaten?"
"Want this to lean on? What with your hurt leg, I mean. Might still be a bit sensitive, I was thinking."
"Thank you but no, I can still move, and you'll need it more than I."
The rest of the trip to the western lighthouse was fairly uneventful. The path leveled out as you got close, though no one could see the lighthouse through the jungle canopy. Finally, the trees opened up and the path continued up a rocky point to a crag jutting out above the sea.
What remained of the lighthouse was a sorry sight. A foundation wall about ten feet high was surrounded by rubble from the fallen lighthouse. More appeared to have fallen over the edge of the crag, as there was nowhere near enough rubble for a complete structure. The advances of time coupled with the jarring impact of the meteorite must have been too much for the old structure.
Lefrik rubs his jaw as he considers.
"We run back to shore?" Anklebiter suggests. "Maybe get out on other tower before sundown and notlions come to hunt again? Or go to Zilcher and watch him get eaten?"
He smiles at the last, "Going to Zilcher to watch him get eatten has merit. Even if I died, at least my own last memory would have some good news mixed in."
Bruendor swears as he sees the state of the lighthouse. "I'm sorry, everyone," he says, running his hand through his sweat-slicked mop of hair. "I thought this place would be defensible. Now I've wasted our light on this errand." He clenched his fists in impotent rage. "Alright, alright, new plan. We're here, I'm not going to let this leg of the trek be in vain. We do a quick search of the ruins. There might be something salvageable there. If we've got light on our side, we make for Zincher's compound. If not, back to the beach. Alright?"
"You weren't the only one who thought so," Anklebiter says, reaching as high up Bruendor's back as he can and patting it in lieu of reaching his shoulder. "Sure, let's have a look."
Minky hops down from Anklebiter's shoulder and starts rooting around as well -- provided no other dangers manifest, in which case she hightails it back to the dubious safety of her Wizard's hood.
"We all thought it was a good choice, Beardless. Don't worry about it," Calla says as she begins looking around, starting first to see if there are any tracks in the area.
Lefrik nods, "Indeed, do not blame yourself Bruendor."
Samaritha spoke up to Calla's musings. "I don't know exactly where Zincher's camp is. I think it's probably about the same distance from Witchlight as this lighthouse was. We might be able to get there by nightfall, but I just don't know."
She glanced at Lefrik, who was standing somewhat crooked, favoring his wounded leg. "I just don't know" she muttered.
As she spoke, Bruendor and Calla approached the ruined lighthouse. The walls had enough rubble choked holes in them to allow easy access...and egress. They had no sooner stuck their heads in the lighthouse then they pulled back, running back to the group. Behind them boiled out hundreds, thousands of hand-sized centipedes, stirred to ravenous hunger by the presence of warm bodies.
Initiatives:
group
centipede swarm
"Let's not spend the night here!" Anklebiter yells at the others. "I'ma sneeze! Get behind me!"
As soon as Bruendor and Calla are safely behind him, Anklebiter casts the by now familiar spell -- "Exhalatio ignis ventique!" -- and unleashes the first gout of burning ectoplasma and scathing wind.
After casting, the Goblin lopes to get to the back of the party -- or indeed, to join the retreat, if the group decides to have one.
"I hate this island," Calla mutters, retreating.
"I'm with you!", Bruendor mutters back, pulling a flask from his backpack. He throws the vial towards the crawling carpet of centipedes, and it explodes in a fiery conflagration.
Pull one of my alchemist's fires, and throw it at the swarm! I'm prepared this time!!!
Lefrik backs up, "I can't axe all that!"
"So throw big rocks at them!" Anklebiter suggests.