"It be here, in trees, stalking us, to right.
Often have good hearing, might pounce now."
Given Garborn's warning, Vladimir pulls and readies his blade.
With Garborn's whispered warning, no one is surprised when a disgusting throaty noise breaks the forest's relative quiet- not quite a roar, more like a very loud throat clearing.
Vladimir moves in closer to the roaring creature, beginning a rousing oratory detailing the stories of gallant warriors of the past striking down evil dragons.
Garborn claps his hands together and begins to pull his favorite trick early in combat, that is, beginning to summon some help.
With blade already in hand, Marisol makes her way around some of the trees in the direction of the rather notable sound.
The drake spat a head-sized gob of sizzling mucus at the humanoid approaching with a sword in her hand and slipped in between the trees to circle around her and Nico.
Whipping past Marisol, the blob of burning spittle hit a tree in between her and Nico and exploded into a cloud of choking, burning acid. The stinging mist is thick and hangs in the air, obscuring sight beyond arm's length.
Marisol hears the guttural hacking noise just in time and manages to back out of the way of the acid spittle.
Nico jumps back just in time to, narrowly, avoid getting coated by the acidic spray. He Darts back towards the group, pulling shavings of licorice root out as he works a spell.
Vladimir rushes forward, aided by Nico's spell, while continuing his story of the evils of certain types of dragons.
Once in position, he challenges the beast and strikes.
(haste, inspire)
(precise strike, Challenge, inspire)
"Hehe, sic 'im lads!"
The four vaguely humanoid gusts of wind whoosh forward, to engage the drake.
Garborn then immediately begins to cast the same spell once more.
A storm of human shapes stream to swarm the drake, picking up rocks and debris as they go and smashing and ripping into the creature's body as they swirl around and around the monster.
Vlad cuts a deep furrow in the draconic beast's neck, making the huge monster flinch and refocus on the little stinging human in front of it.
Marisol rushes to aid her companion. Without the haste spell she just reaches the fray, trying to chill her sword as she goes.
She fumbles the spell, of course.
And misses.
Nico concentrates on his ring briefly, then gestures with his right hand. He sends three bolts of energy flying into the drake.
Nico's magic slams into the drake's flank, making it roar in pain and anger. It snaps at Vlad, the most immediate threat.
But its huge jaws snap shut on nothing but air. Frustrated and hurt, the monster bunches its leg muscles and makes a leap for the relative safety of the treetops.
(haste, inspire)
(precise strike, Challenge, inspire)
The storm of debris punishes the drake as it makes its leap. Even with Nico's magical enhancement Vlad can't connect. The degenerate dragonkin races up the tree trunks and into the branches, roaring a wordless threat at the dangerous humanoids.
The elementals, joined by two more, charge after the drake, swarming and attacking it.
Garborn himself decides to rest on his laurels for a moment.
Vladimir curses under his breath while continuing his oratory as he shoves his swords into the ground and pulls his bow, taking a shot.
(inspire, haste)
(inspire)
Nico unstraps his crossbow and loads a bolt.
Faced with surprisingly powerful enemies, the forest drake tries to fly off into the safety of the treetops. Unfortunately for the would-be ambusher, Garborn's storm of elementals rip at the branches and tree trunks, pelting it with debris and smashing it with invisible fists of air.
From the ground, Vlad takes careful aim and brings down the battered, bleeding, and badly hurt drake with a well placed arrow. The monster's corpse crashes down out of the trees, falling to earth with a sickening thud that shakes dust off nearby tree trunks.
As the Drake falls, Garborn raises his arm high into the air.
In response, the six elementals whirl down and dance around him for a moment, sending his cloak and beard whipping in the wind while he laughs uproariously.
Then he dismisses them back to the plane of air.
"Prey, hunted."
Rubbing his hands, he grins and then retrieves his skinning knife.
"Wyvern was tasty, yes? Let us try drake now!"
Vladimir shrugs, conceding the point. "The wyvern was surprisingly good. Do what you have to do, Garborn. After that, we should see what we can do about finding this creature's lair."
As Garborn works, blood up to his elbows, he whistles merrily, clearly not bothered in the least.
"Garborn wonder, maybe one day, fight proper dragon? Of course, would eat dragon as well if so.
Compare dragon, drake and wyvern in memoirs, GYAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Marisol takes the opportunity to clear a space for a campfire. Her mithral cutlass can stand up to a little brush-clearing, and she knows that roasting a carcass of this size probably means a pit fire.
"I have my cooking tools in my saddlebags, but I don't have a shovel," she says. "Garborn, were you thinking pit fire like roasting a whole boar? Or are you going to butcher it into slices or chunks for spit-roasting or stew?"
"Little bit steak, little bit stew. Better that way.
Garborn not think spit roasting fun unless for big crowd, and good friends you be, but too few."
Cutting off a particularly tasty looking morsel, Garborn chuckles a little.
"Besides, we eat our fill, leave the rest to forest animals, they prefer meat raw."
It takes a while but Garborn is able to dress the enormous drake and harvest more than enough meat to make a meal. The meat is hard and takes a long time to cook, but eventually comes out tasting like a cross between chicken and fish and with an extremely firm texture that takes some effort to chew. It's not bad, necessarily, but it's not going to replace domestic meat in anybody's personal list of Top 5 Meats.
Garborn chews a piece of meat slowly and contemplates the texture as he does.
"Hmm, need tenderizing, next time fight drake, maybe kill using clubs yes? Gyahahahaha!"
"Garborn thinks Wyvern better, still not know about dragon obviously.
Meat with texture like drake, need slow cooking Garborn thinks, overnight, in beer!
Yes, chop in large chunks, fry with cream and butter, slow cook in beer, serve with currant jelly and mash made from sprouts, potatoes and onions."
Scratching his beard for a moment, he considers further.
"But not likely find drake again easily, still want to cook.
Hmm, need good replacement meat to try. Boar maybe? Yes, commission hunters to bring in whole board when get back to town.
Make meal for whole council."
The night passes quietly and the group wakes in the morning without anything trying to eat them or steal their stuff. It's easy enough for Garborn the follow the drake's back trail- it had been sneaky when it was hunting them but made a show of marking what it considered its territory.
It's late morning when the group comes to the base of an enormous tree. A space has been hollowed out in between some of the roots, some nearly waist height to Vlad (thigh height to the enormous Garborn), with a tangled thicket of thorny bushes covering the entrance. It's the smell that really pinpoints the spot, that of rotting meat combined with the lingering acrid sting of acidic breath.
The stinking hollow is littered with the rotting remains of hunted creatures, including an unfortunate elf who looks like he's only a few days dead. Most of the things in the lair have been chewed on to one extent or another, including the elf's gear, but some is recoverable.
MW chain shirt
gnawed but still serviceable MW darkwood composite longbow +3
MW kukri (x2)
Potion of Pass Without Trace
Potion of Detect Evil
tattered and bloodstained Cloak of Elvenkind
"Hmm, interesting. Drake had victims already.
Looks like some need little care, but still function.
Well, we done good work again.
Guess time to continue mapping then?"
"Definitely good work." Vladimir says, agreeing with Garborn. "Let's gather what is salvageable, lay our Elven friend to rest, and then continue on our way."
"In time, with apex predator gone, other animals return, balance of life restored.
Or, maybe we turn land into farmland? Also circle of life.
Probably farmland, close enough to city, easier to protect.
Garborn also think, much fishing, seafood become staple of local diet.
Should make some good recipes for that."
The group lays the dead elf scout to rest, taking anything useful with them, and returns to their troll-trail. Garborn expertly guides the group southwest for hours, following a well-worn path that's been trod by giant feet many times in recent months.
It's late afternoon, nearly evening, when the group finds the body of an enormous owlbear arranged in a standing position with its paws outstretched as it stands eternal guard over a stone monolith carved in three languages. The monster is huge, even for an owlbear, at nearly 15 feet tall and probably weighing in around a ton.
The inscriptions are giant-sized and fresh, probably only etched in the last few months. Everyone can read the Taldane and Sylvan, and Vlad can see that the Giant runes read the same as the other two inscriptions. "You enter Xanthuun. Those who submit to the Skull Throne may enter in peace. Those who seek war shall die."
"Xa...Xan....Xan....thuun?"
Garborns brows furrows as he struggles to read the name for a moment, then she shrugs, not recognizing it one bit.
"No, Garborn never heard name before, also not remembering statue. Strange, hard to miss, almost as hard as Garborn himself."
[dice=Knowledge (History) DC 25]1d20 + 7