Brett grunts after Hermia's prayer.
"Amen to that, I guess..."he mutters.
Through the night the party keeps inside the cavern, the "courtyard" (this refers to the stone area that the temple rests in... the "walls" of the courtyard seem to be made out of the heavy trees and bushes, as if the wild itself protects people from any invasion, or if the trees and bushes are like a wall or natural defense). Outside the altar is icy cold that night. There is no moon, and the stars are full and twinkling.
The median temprature would probably be about 36 Farenheit, or roughly 3 degrees Celsius (if my math is correct). You are cold and chilled, but if you remain in the cave with the fire and torches you feel drier and somewhat warmer.
You think posting a gaurd may be safer, but no one really feels interested in doing so, mainly because the temple itself feels safe enough.
In the dawn, the party gets their gear together and begins to pack their things, and prepare breakfest, even as everyone who needs to begin their daily prayers and meditations does so.
By 8:00 AM the camp is broken and the party is free to leave the temple. Despite the dangers you faced the other day when you dealt with the enemy the night before, and despite the fact that you have only been here a day, you feel a sense of sorrow as you leave, as if you are leaving a friend's home.
Taking your horses you begin your quest to the west. Everyone seems interested in exploring the mysterious statue that is marked to Erestil. Yet you keep your eyes open, looking at the surrounding terrain, Brett keeping his eyes open and confirming what you are hoping to be true; that the map of the villian is accurate. This means you will be able to move fairly quickly, and you finish moving through the rest of the grid, and continue to move west.
By noon you are half way through the next hex on the way to the statue to Erestil. As you move, you are glad now for the icy and damp winds (as long as you are wearing clothes for Cold Weather, if not you will need to take appropriate penalties. It is now an early cold patch... and if you don't have the ability to resist the elements, you will suffer) for they seem to keep the swarm of insects and other vermin that would infest low-lying waters which your horses are trecking through. Indeed, the cold keeps things relatively still and quiet; there is no sign of trouble, animals, or anything to vex or harrass you on your travels.
After a few hours, as you move to a good place to check your horses and get a quick meal, Brett looks down at the map. His words are muffled through his scarf, which he has wrapped over his face.
"I don't be understanding this... there be a way we can take, it a little south, but it looks like it is over some nasty stone work... maybe a small village or ruin out there... but there seems to be some markings on the map... I can't make the damn things out... looks like whatever is in the stone structure; it be noted fer some reason."
He rubs his hands together and looks at you all.
"I know we be exploring and all, but if ye want to go a straight jog to the statue, then we keep on this route, and it be taking us a mile or so north of these stone works or village, if village it be... but if ye want to explore, then mayhap we explore it... Heading to the statue takes us a mile north the stones... heading right through the stone works... it be taking us a little off course, maybe by an hour or so, at least, and it could take us longer, for there looks like a bit of choppy water down that way a piece; maybe thicker swamplands or such. Ah hell, I don't know what way to go myself... Well, what say ye all?"
"We invoked Erastil's favor, and received an audience. I would like to visit with these people, and ensure that they are safe. If that villain has been traveling through here, he may have molested them as he passed."
"We invoked Erastil's favor, and received an audience. I would like to visit with these people, and ensure that they are safe. If that villain has been traveling through here, he may have molested them as he passed."
"Well, it may not be a village. Could be just ruins... or ruins of a village... then again... but either way; it sounds like that be one vote fer the village... Just remember; it be going out of our way a piece, that's all,"Brett says, frowning at the map, trying puzzle out what the markings may mean.
If you don't have propper clothing, you suffer the usual penalties for not wearing the propper clothing.
"I don't be understanding this... there be a way we can take, it a little south, but it looks like it is over some nasty stone work... maybe a small village or ruin out there... but there seems to be some markings on the map... I can't make the damn things out... looks like whatever is in the stone structure; it be noted fer some reason."
He rubs his hands together and looks at you all.
"I know we be exploring and all, but if ye want to go a straight jog to the statue, then we keep on this route, and it be taking us a mile or so north of these stone works or village, if village it be... but if ye want to explore, then mayhap we explore it... Heading to the statue takes us a mile north the stones... heading right through the stone works... it be taking us a little off course, maybe by an hour or so, at least, and it could take us longer, for there looks like a bit of choppy water down that way a piece; maybe thicker swamplands or such. Ah hell, I don't know what way to go myself... Well, what say ye all?"
Ariarh spends some time considering the options carefully before she speaks.
"My vote is to ride straight to the Statue of Erastil so we may give our thanks and pay our respects as swiftly as possible. The idea of moving/riding through thick, uncertain swampland in this weather to explore a possible abandoned village or ruin sounds too risky to me."
NOTE: That's one vote for going around the village/ruins, and one vote for going THROUGH the village/ruins... I still need to hear from three other players at some point. Hopefully soon...
"I know we be exploring and all, but if ye want to go a straight jog to the statue, then we keep on this route, and it be taking us a mile or so north of these stone works or village, if village it be... but if ye want to explore, then mayhap we explore it... Heading to the statue takes us a mile north the stones... heading right through the stone works... it be taking us a little off course, maybe by an hour or so, at least, and it could take us longer, for there looks like a bit of choppy water down that way a piece; maybe thicker swamplands or such. Ah hell, I don't know what way to go myself... Well, what say ye all?"
--- basically, if you head straight to Erestil's statue it would not take any more time then usual. If you deviated, according Brett's conjecture, it could probably take you an hour or so. This presumes, however, that whatever is there will be a simple pass through. It could take much longer if there is a full village, or much less time if there is just a few ruins... But to get there, and back, would probably take you about an extra hour out of your way.
Thank you Alaric. I do recall that, I was just trying to figure out who in the party has the clothes for cold weather, and who does not.
I believe everyone has the clothing, except Gan, but I am not sure.
Since Brett thinks it would only be an extra hour out of our way, I would say we swing by and at least see what we can see from a quick pass through.
Two for the village/ruins, one for going north. Waiting on either Gan or Smendor. Either a tie, or a tie breaker... as soon as they post, we all know more.
Craft Armor:
Int:
Knowledge Engineering:
We need to take a look, but if we find danger we must stop to re-think our plan
"Agreed, Master Smendor," Hermia replies promptly, and smiles. "And thank you. I had not the mind to expose us unduly to danger," she continues for the benefit of the others, "only that we should discover if others might be subjected to it in our ignorance. I will abide by your decisions if we are to desist if the way is too difficult to continue Master Brett, and Ariarh."
Very well; with three votes for going south, and one vote for going north, and two votes for abstaining, south it is...
To all...
Your party moves it horses south, then. As you continue to ride, it is now a little after 2:00 PM when you begin to formally tack your horse’s course to the southlands. To the north the land is stiff and firm, as if it may have frozen in the night; but whatever water you see, there is currently no trouble with soggy marsh lands. That is, until you start pushing south.
However, even here you have a feeling the weather is (for once) on your side. This area may have otherwise been crawling with disease filled insects, as well other natural traveling issues, such as noxious swamp gases, quicksand, or other various problems, such as natural creatures who may have decided to stay underground for warmth. You are not entirely sure, though, on if you would encounter such creatures. However, the ground seems damp and muddy at worst, and though your horses are moving slowly through it, there is nothing to really prevent you from your journey.
You continue to travel onwards, though, and as you do so you occasionally see a few roaming elk moving through the trees several miles off. Though hunting the beasts for meat may seem like a good idea, all of you are eager to get to this village, and hopefully find a place to saddle your horses and maybe get a hot meal. So, tightening your belts, you push on.
By about 5:30 PM you see a clearing in the distance. You suspect that if you hadn't tacked yoru course south then you would have reached the next “hex” on the map at least by this time. But if you turn and make a straight ride to that same “hex” you will not get there now until after dark. And that will be a dangerous journey; moving through a swamp or forest, at night, with no moon.
But according to the map, this clearing is in fact where the village should be. Spreading out a piece, you advance cautiously. You are hoping for a warm welcome, but the natives may be hostile, especially after those western “Wyvern” riders have moved through here.
You pause to listen for a moment, but hear nothing untoward, so you urge your horses forward. Your mounts are forced to make a narrow entrance to what you presume to be the north of the village. This is largely due to bisecting rivers and stream beds. These streams and rivers are far too treacherous to ride up, down, and back and forth in. They’ve been cut deep into the banks of the land, and you would have to scramble at least up the banks, and are worried that if you took your horses down the abrupt stream beds they could break a leg.
Only the narrow strip of land is a safe place to enter, it is about ten feet wide; wide enough to take two horses through it. You can see that you are immediately north of the village, and are looking down over it.
Yet what you see is hardly a village.
It is, in fact, something far more mundane; stone buildings, ruined by weather and other things. The entire place stinks of a foulness that is not unlike living in a swamp, yet somehow more… vile.
Brett hops off his horse and tosses the reins to Alaric. His musket is loose in his hands, and he glances from right to left in the buildings.
”Something ain’t right here…”he whispers to the rest of you, his eyes on the stone buildings. There is no noise, of animals, just the constant slurge of oozing water sliding through the muddy inlets that flank the buildings.
His eyes narrow suddenly.
”Listen… can you smell that?”he asks.
Brett’s roll –
PS: Consult your email, a map will be joining this post soon
Ry's perception roll:
To all those who got above a 15...
You can hear something that sounds like a toad, or a frog, gar-rumping in the stones somewhere. It is muted, and sounds very quiet, as if something is attempting to stifle its breathing. It sounds like it is coming from the first stone building, and from this same building there is a foul smell, more potent then swamp water, emanating.
Dior tunrs and looks up at Ariarh, and takes his wing and wraps it over his beak. He is clearly not pleased by the smell, either.
NOTE: To be clear, this noise is comming from the building in the south east corner. Accurately, the sound is comming from directly under the broken logs.
Hermia Perception
Hermia considers the smell, and the situation the group found themselves in recently, and who has come through here in the past.
"Master Brett," Hermia whispers softly, so as not to alarm anything. "Might it please you if I am proactive and cast a spell that will allow me to determine if there are anything especially odious, or evil afoot?"
Ariarh looks at Brett a little ways before her on the narrow strip of road. Holding onto Dior with one hand, Ariarh slides off her horse and walks her horse by the clump of trees to her right and secures him. It's best the horses stay as far out from this place as possible, Ariarh thinks. The stench is certainly quite potent and Ariarh lifts her scarf up over her nose and mouth.
Ariarh starts walking cautiously down toward Brett. By her side is Alaric.
"I don't like how quiet it is except for that frog/toad sound." Ariarh says in lowered voice to Alaric, just in case there is something nasty, here, waiting for passing travellers.
"And this smell is vile. It can't be natural. I mean I have come across some swampy grounds in my travels but this smell ... and this quietness is something else."
Hermia Perception 1d20+4
Hermia considers the smell, and the situation the group found themselves in recently, and who has come through here in the past.
"Master Brett," Hermia whispers softly, so as not to alarm anything. "Might it please you if I am proactive and cast a spell that will allow me to determine if there are anything especially odious, or evil afoot?"
Puck CAN interact... he is close to understanding parts of the texts... if you pay attention to him in his sleep he will mutter dark and dreadful things... as if it is a nightmare. He is showing signs of obsession with the work that are spillingo over into his daily life.
Consider:
Since he has found the texts he devotes 80% of his waking time studying the texts.
He has not made any happy songs or dances since he found the texts, they are becomming an obsession for him.
He is having trouble sleeping and focusing, and whe you try to distract him from this, he seems upset.
His attempts to read the ruins using magical means in the caves on hallowed grounds failed. The magic couldn't work there for some reason... though other magic could. Almost as if the runes he were studdying were off limits on that place.
Brettt's response...
"Huh? Shh.... "he says in a whisper. "Yeah, do your magic if ye can... but watch yer step; something don't feel right, though I can't hear or sense nothing amiss... And go look to yer horse; if there be a fight, then there could be trouble... don't want him running off and breaking a leg, likely as not..."
Hermia would have attended Puck as oft she could after she was raised.Now she knows something is wrong with Puck.
Hermia's Sense Motive
In REAL time
Hermia dutifully obeys Brett, taking the reins of her horse firmly in one hand, and lets her pendulum swing freely in the other. She , and focuses her attention on the buildings.
Again, in lowered voice, Ariarh speaks,
"From the point where we entered this area, there was another road, leading south. Perhaps, our group should split up and have some of us go down this path and some down the southern path. That way if there is something there waiting by or beneath those logs, we will have it flanked. I'd rather have prepared backup. What say you?"
Hermia would have attended Puck as oft she could after she was raised.Now she knows something is wrong with Puck.
Hermia's Sense Motive 1d20+8
In REAL time
Hermia dutifully obeys Brett, taking the reins of her horse firmly in one hand, and lets her pendulum swing freely in the other. She , and focuses her attention on the buildings.
Question: What are you using the Sense Motive on, or for? I need to know, so I can phrase an answer.
You detect no Evil at this time...
Again, in lowered voice, Ariarh speaks,
"From the point where we entered this area, there was another road, leading south. Perhaps, our group should split up and have some of us go down this path and some down the southern path. That way if there is something there waiting by or beneath those logs, we will have it flanked. I'd rather have prepared backup. What say you?"
Brett glances back at the others.
"I can't be hearing nothing... hmm... what's all the hub-bub ye're talking on... But yeah, maybe we should try splitting up... I guess I'll tack south down that path there,"he says gesturing to the path to the south. You can see tha tthe path leads down about fifty or sixty feet, and then comes around the south side of the building.
You can make out the buildings through the trees, but they offer some cover. If Brett's idea is correct then half the party can move to the north side of the building, where the loggy mass is, and where YOU (though not Brett) hear the sounds of the grunting-panting-slurping noise.
The other half of the party can move south and come from the other side. And Smendor and Gan can stay with the horses, if no one else will.
Hermia keeps concentrating on holding the spell. It lasts 10 min. per level, so... if others move up, she will be joining them, to get closer to the buildings.
edit:
Hermia, slightly upset that a pair has wandered off on their own, looks to her remaining companions. "I do not like the way of this. Might someone escort me to the south?
Hermia keeps concentrating on holding the spell. It lasts 10 min. per level, so... if others move up, she will be joining them, to get closer to the buildings.
edit:
Hermia, slightly upset that a pair has wandered off on their own, looks to her remaining companions. "I do not like the way of this. Might someone escort me to the south?
I am very confused...
Brett suggested moving to the south. But he has not yet moved, he is suggesting it.
Also, no pair has moved off on their own. The closest to that is Gan and Smendor, but they are "off by the horses" becaue they haven't been posting.
If you go to the south at all, you would probably be going with Brett, as he is the only one who has suggested going south, but has not gone there yet.
So... Question:
What pair wandered off on their own that you are upset with? Remember, you are all pretty much in a 30 feet radius of the X right now.
You, Brett, Ariarh, and Alaric have moved 15 feet to the left of the X to examine the building through the treeline. However, if you want to move south with Brett, he will oblige you, as it was his suggestion earlier. I am just a bit confused is all.
And yes, currently you detect no evil... at least, NOT YET!
Re: Puck
Remember, you don't have to make a roll unless asked for it. I kind of figured the clues I was leaving about Puck would lead you to believ that he was not himself, and was not feeling right. But don't worry about the dice roller. A good point of fun play by posting is solving the mystery by using good writing, not necessarily good dice rolls. But, for opposed rolls, or when I need rolls, I will give you a heads up.
But yes, Puck is strangely upset, and growing more "warped" whenever he reads the text.
"If you will have me, Master Brett, I may come south with you. My magics will be able to penetrate the walls, and should it be required to sneak against something evil, I can protect you against it, as well." Hermia offers.
Brett gives Hermia an up and down, then nods, and beckons her, suggesting that if she comes, to do so with stealth. He uses signs and signals to indicate that if you would stay back about ten feet it would be better, so that you can mask your advance.
He moves forward slightly. You can see by his gestures he will be moving down to the place on the map where the south eastern path leads around, right up to where the water is on the east side of the house. Once he is there, and takes up a position of cover, he will indicate that you follow him.
Brett's Stealth
Upon hearing Hermia's decision to move down the south path with Brett, Ariarh offers quietly,
"If Alaric is amiable, then he can accompany me and Dior and we can take this north road down toward the building where I heard that croaking sound earlier."
Hermia's stealth
Hermia is, oddly, fully confident with her ability to move gracefully and silently through the wood. She keeps her eyes trained on the buildings, and her mind keen to detect any signs of danger before they appear. She maintains the distance Brett has set in front of her, not wishing to disappoint and shirk the gesture of trust he has afforded her by allowing her to accompany him.
Alaric and Ariarh, when you two decide to move down the north path, you may either elect to move with stealth, or simply anounce yourself. If you are Stealthy, you may use Stealth.
Ariarh and Alaric gesture to each other and establish stealth would be prudent at this time.
Alaric rubs his jaw tentatively, then moves boldy down the path.
Stealth Roll...
As Alaric struts down the path with a carefree abandon, the sound of the gurgling noises get more desperate, then cease altogether. Pushing somewhat past Ariarh and Dior, they motion to him desperately to be quiet. He turns and flashes them a charming, devil-may-care smile, he says in a relaxed voice.
”What? Hey, it’s me,”he says, even as he suddenly stumbles over a rock.
Ariarh turns over her shoulder and looks to Gan and Smendor, wondering where exactly Brett and Hermia actually went. Only Dior raises his wing and covers his head, snarfing in disgust at Alaric’s grace… or lack of it.
Even as this transpires a sudden noise from the broken down brambles shocks you all.
A creature has rushed forward; Bulbous eyes glare atop this creature's decidedly toad-like head. A multitude of warts and bumps decorate its greenish skin. The smell is near overpowering. It looks enraged, and violent, and charges forward to you, even though you see no weapon in its hand.
Brett’s Initiative.
Hermia's initiative
if she can see the creature
Knowledge (nature)
Both Hermia and Ariarh recognize the creature as a Boggard... Here are some tasty details...
Environment temperate marshes
Organization solitary, pair, or army (3–12)
Treasure NPC gear (leather armor, morningstar, other treasure)
Boggards resemble anthropomorphic frogs or toads, complete with webbed hands and feet, large eyes, and overly wide mouths. These creatures make their homes near large rivers or deep in marshes. There they make small villages composed of mud mounds on the banks. Boggards start out life as tadpoles in breeding ponds, eventually growing to a length of 3 feet before sprouting arms and legs and becoming capable of terrestrial living. Acceptance into the clan then depends on the young boggard's successful hunt to kill a sentient humanoid. Those who fail are exiled from the clan. As boggards age, they continue to grow and lose their coloration. Exceptionally old boggards bear completely white skin covering massive corpulent bodies. Some of these boggards rank among the caste of priest-kings and enjoy a life of grotesque pleasures ruling their clans.
Though often hunched over, boggards stand 5 feet tall and weigh close to 200 pounds. These creatures live for 50 years, though the harsh swamps and infighting usually cut these years short.
Ecology of the Boggard
Lairing on the fringes of civilized lands, dwelling in impenetrable swamps, diseased marshlands, and the inundated ruins left in the wake of greater civilizations, boggards embody the brutishness and superstition of primitive life. Existing in far greater variety than the races who merely consider them barbaric and uncouth “toadfolk,” the contempt most civilized races hold for them is far from unfounded. In their marshy realms boggards raise croaking prayers to merciless priest-kings, ravenous idiot demigods, and their fecund demon goddess Gogunta. Yet for all their overtures of piety and culture, among boggards the strongest rules and the weakest become slaves or, worse, meals for their bestial kin. Few know much of the mysterious and murderous ways of boggards, but those who have survived their encounters tell of violent hunts, cannibalistic feasts, ancient things sleeping amid the muck, and much, much worse.
Boggard Ecology
Just as humans possess different races, boggards exhibit different regional subtypes as well, oftentimes bordering on being distinct subspecies, arising through adaptation to different semi-aquatic habitats. For instance, boggards native to the Mushfens of southern Varisia possess various shades of green and brown, with a toad-like appearance. Those native to the River Kingdoms appear more froglike, with a greasy green hue to their skin, while in the Sodden Lands and Mwangi Expanse boggard clans possess large levels of variation amid the more tropical environment. These latter boggards segregate themselves into different warring tribes, each with unique traits and colors, including those with the vibrant colors of tree frogs and strange abilities similar to the diverse frogs native to the same region.
Despite displaying a wide range of regional attributes, boggards in general begin their lives in a manner little different from normal toads. Boggards produce anywhere from four to 12 eggs in a single spawning, each roughly the size of a ripe orange. The eggs retain the thick layer of mucus and the transparent, gelatinous form of frogs’ eggs, but with a much tougher consistency, firm enough that they can be easily transported for their parents’ convenience. Boggard gestation takes 1 month on average. Largely colorless and translucent for their first week, boggard tadpoles eat their way out of their eggs, then rapidly develop immature versions of their adult pigmentation and color patterns upon exposure to sunlight. For 6 months they compete within their pools against one another and smaller swamp denizens, then progress to an intermediate form with arms and legs, maturing for another 3 months until they emerge from the water in mostly adult forms. These young still retain a number of immature features for their first year: a stubby, vestigial tail as a relic of the tadpole stage, a series of hard cartilage ridges rather than true teeth, and stubby limbs that quickly elongate once they begin to walk.
Life of a Boggard
Life within boggard society is, above all else, pragmatic. Lairing in swamps or alongside forested rivers, they live among a multitude of rival races and natural predators. Faced with such perpetual dangers, their society, rather than rewarding strength, simply expects it. The weak and sick receive little sympathy, and any young with visible or even perceived defects never progress past the tadpole stage—being culled and left to dry for use in religious ceremonies or other rites. Those that do survive begin their training as members of boggard society, and finally go through a series of trials to reach the ritualized passage into true adulthood.
For their first 9 months of life, most immature boggards are largely sheltered from harm, kept within the confines of their spawning pool and within the clan’s village. After they emerge, however, they immediately begin their rapid ascent to adult responsibilities and expectations. Roughly a year after emergence, they develop adult teeth and receive a blessing from the tribe’s priest-king, as well as a ritual meal to mark their visible ascent to adulthood. This feast tends to be cannibalistic, when possible, being prepared from the flesh of those among the current year’s newborns judged too flawed or weak to survive. The rite serves to cull the clan of its weakest members, their meager lives going to join and increase the strength of their greater brethren.
For 2 years after their emergence from the spawning pools, boggard young live in gangs overseen by more experienced warriors, where they actively learn to hunt beyond the sheltered confines of the village periphery, gaining the practical skills and physical prowess needed for their and the clan’s survival. Regardless of gender or bloodline, all boggards receive virtually identical training, the only exception being those rare individuals with an inborn talent for sorcery.
Already considered adults, boggards’ final rite of passage confers membership within the clan, but the task is far from easy, with failure resulting in dire consequences. Each potential clan member is provided 1 month to find and single-handedly kill a sentient humanoid, be it a boggard from a rival clan, a lizardfolk, or any other humanoid traveling through their domain. At the end of that month—and not before—all hunters must return. Those who bring a corpse back to their village are welcomed as true warriors. Those who return empty-handed furnish the feast of those who succeeded with their flesh, being cannibalized to nourish the heroes of the tribe. Many simply never return, but due more to the dangers of the swamp than out of fear of failure’s fatal price—though a rare and exceptional few do use this opportunity to flee their brutish culture. Boggard society enforces reliance on the community and the whims of the priest-king so thoroughly that thoughts of abandoning the tribe or disobeying the will of the group rarely enters the minds of individuals—often to fatal effect.
The life of a common adult boggard is simple, with males serving as expendable warriors and hunters— boggards making no distinction between the two—and females serving as domestic defenders of the village and young. Any more specialized task is decided wholly at the whim of the priest-king. Life varies little from day to day for the common boggard, as he fulfills the duties the tribe demands of him and participates in daily worship.
This cycle continues until life ends, typically as a result of violence brought about by the attack of an enemy, strife within the community, or when age and infirmity prevents a boggard from defending himself from the greed and impatience of his children and neighbors. The dead, like most flesh left for the community to dispose of, is either cast into the swamp or made part of an offering to boggards’ foul goddess.
Following details for Hermia exclusively!
Boggards prove quick to adapt, both culturally and physiologically, to the challenges of their wetland environments. In many areas this has led to boggards developing distinct regional characteristics, some proving wholly cosmetic, others granting whole tribes significant advantages. Noted here are just a few variations documented among boggards. Except where noted, this additional abilities do not increase a boggard’s Challenge Rating.
Camouflage (Ex)
The boggard’s coloration grants it a +4 racial bonus on Stealth checks, increasing to a +8 bonus in forest, jungles, or swamps.
Leap Attack (Ex)
As a standard action, a boggard may make a single attack during a jump. It can make this attack at any point along the course of the leap—the start, the end, or while in mid-air. While jumping, a boggard does not provoke attacks of opportunity for leaving a threatened square.
Poison Skin (Ex)
The boggard secretes poison through its skin. Any creature that comes in contact with the boggard— as part of an unarmed strike or to attempt a grapple—or that is struck by the boggard tongue attack must make a Fortitude save or be poisoned. The save DC is Constitution-based. The following save DCs apply to a standard boggard. Poison skin increases a boggard’s CR by 1.
Boggard Poison
Tongue or touch—contact; save Fort DC 22, frequency 1/round for 6 rounds, effect 1 Dexterity, cure 1 save.
Sticky Limbs (Ex)
The boggard produces a viscous film along the pads of its hands and thighs. The boggard gains a climb speed of 10 and a +4 bonus on CMB checks made to grapple.
Alaric's Initiative...
Alaric calls out... "Villian! What ARE you... and what have you done with these fine people of this land?"
Recognizing the Boggard, Alaric holds up a hand and tries to talk to it in the Sylvan tongue We mean you no harm good Boggard!
Remember, Hermia... you have still detected NO EVIl from this thing, though you can see him from your position now... He is standing near Alaric, waving his arms about, and letting out deep grunting "gar-rumps'
Recognizing the Boggard, Alaric holds up a hand and tries to talk to it in the Sylvan tongue We mean you no harm good Boggard!
I need your Sense Motive Alaric... something feels... off...
For one thing, you don't recall Boggards speaking Sylvan... but that' another matter. But up with Sense Motive!
If the creature does not respond in sylvan I will switch to common and say the same thing.
Listening to Alaric speak to the Boggard in Sylvan, Ariarh warily awaits to hear the response, if any is forthcoming from the creature.