"You'll have to kill me then," the oracle says, snapping the ropes binding her. She brings her nails down one of the columns inside the building, tearing grooves into it. "You could have walked away."
Grabbing a torch off the wall, Skaar takes a mighty swing.
"You had your chance. I'm gunna kill you, save Zahira, and then go to my friends."
"You won't save anything. What makes you think that she'll want anything to do with her or her son? You left her like you left her friends. Now you're cavorting around with this slut," the oracle cackles, her golden eyes piercing. "Rando's done more for her than you ever will. If Rukkus hadn't tied his arm behind his back for that wrestling match, perhaps he could have survived Jahlrem's attack. Do you think she hasn't thought of that?"
She rakes her nails across Skaar's skin.
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With a flick of her head, Corda's hair became very long, and with another flick sent it flying towards the Oracle.
Skaar grunts in pain as the claws rake his thick hide again. He’s so focused on his opponent, he barely notices Corda’s hair become some sort of living weapon and swing at the monstrous woman.
He growls in anger when she begins ranting about Corda.
”The girl’s none of your business. Your business with me isn’t it? I’m the one the one that’s going to bring your whole kingdom crumblin’ down!”
With single-minded fury, the hulking greenskin continues to bludgeon his opponent with his scavenged weapon.
”Rukkus was a good man. Don’t you dare speak his name!”
"What do you know of 'good'? You rut like a wild animal, you spread death and despair wherever you go. You really believed that seer? You're a fool on top of it all."
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Skaar growls like an animal, so enraged that he barely even registers the blood flowing freely down his tree-trunk thighs now.
”It’s not the seer I’ve got to believe in’”, he says as he continues to brutally smash the hag with his improvised club. ”It’s a tomorrow!” he finishes with a roar.
Corda seeing her love bleeding badly, abandoned attacking the enemy. She pulled off her pack, opened it and pulled out a wand. Sling the pack over her shoulder, she moved in behind Skaar, her hair flowing around as if she were underwater, and raised the wand when he delivered his strikes.
The oracle collapses in a heap, her beautiful dark skin now mottled and green. She looks up at the orc. "You accomplished nothing, but earned my ire. I curse you, Skaar. Only death shall provide you with relief."
A silver chain appears around Skaar's neck and clasps tight. It loosens to accommodate the girth of the orc's neck, but remains firmly attached. The attendants begin to fade away, phantoms of a bygone era. It seems as if time is catching up to this place. The building begins to crumble, turning to dust as the ground erodes away.
You hear screams coming from outside. You rush to see most of the people turning to dust before your eyes, some of them merely age several decades. Young men and women turn to elders in a span of seconds. The few children on the island turn into adults.
The island sinks into the vast depths of the ocean and you are left flailing in the water along with twenty or so of the islanders.
Skaar stands defiantly as the dying hag issues her threat only having a moment to notice with surprise the choker that’s appeared around his neck.
Grabbing a hold of Corda as the island vanishes before their eyes, Skaar looks around in disbelief, ”Was it all a trick?”
After paddling over to the boat and helping the young witch up, the hulking Orc begins helping anyone struggling up onto the deck as well.
Skaar manages to rescue eleven of the villagers, the rest swept away by the tide or too infirm to swim. Screams continue for a moment, abating into an uncomfortable silence. The raft sinks a little into the water, it wasn't meant to carry so many people.
Skaar looks around at the survivors and then to Corva.
"Can you get us ta land?"
Skaar evaluates the survivors.
"What's yer names? Do you know what just happened?"
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The five females and six males of various ages (mostly middle-aged and elderly) look to Skaar. One of the elder men speak up. "We remember nothing. I sought out an oracle to find my lost daughter just a couple of months ago and I had set out to sea, but I remember nothing more."
The others voice similar stories, but the two young adults cannot tell you anything, not even their names.
Skaar gives the confused group a sad shake of his head.
"You were caught by a sorceress and trapped here for... I dunno how long. She's dead now and you have yer life back. Do you remember anything from yer lives before?"
The survivors tell of lives before as farmers, adventurers or scholars in search of answers to their questions. They don't have any idea of how much time has passed.
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"Is there a city nearby, even a small one?"
"You two, what's yer names?" Skaar asks of the two young adults.
The people don't know where they are or what they are near. The two young adults don't know their names.
-Posted with Wayfinder
-Posted with Wayfinder
Corda just stood there as the Oracle muttered her curse and the choker appeared around Skaar's neck. When the buildings began to crumble, she managed to get the wand tucked away in her belt before the island sank into oblivion. By the time the Orc helped her reach the boat, her hair had returned to its normal length. Once back on it she put her gear with the other supplies and helped bring the survivors on the board. The young Witch then checked on the fruit she had stowed away earlier, it was gone. So much for fresh fruit. She thought. When Skaar asked if there was a city nearby, she thought for a minute, then answered, "I have no idea. Our best bet is to head Northeast, like she said." She took hold of the wheel and headed Northeast as best she could.
The day passes without further incident. You all try to situate yourselves comfortably on the raft, but that turns out to be an exercise in futility. Thafford, an elderly male half-elf, takes over the sailing for part of the night. When you awake in the morning, soaked from a western rain storm, you find yourselves facing a large trading ship, which has pulled up beside your raft.
"When did it arrive?" he asks Thafford.
The old half-elf snorts and opens his eyes. "Oh, just now...I believe."
You hear a call from the larger ship. "Ahoy! Are you in need of help?"
"Yea", Skaar grunts. "We have more bodies than our ship can support. Can you lend a hand?"
"Pull alongside the ship," the voice calls. "We'll lower a ladder."
Thafford guides the boat into position and a rope ladder is thrown from the side.
Skaar is the first up the ladder gesturing for Corda to follow him.
"The rest of you wait here", he grunts.
The big orc ascends the ladder to find himself face-to-face with a short human with narrow eyes. He is dressed in a green-and-white robe. "Greetings, orc. Would you like for my men to bring up the rest of your passengers?"
Skaar studies the man's body language for ill intent.
"Yea, that'd be gud. I freed 'em from an enchantress. Some of 'em are messed up and have no memories. Can you take'em somewhere safe?"
The man seems to be at ease and quite nonthreatening.
"Of course. I am headed back to Jin Zhao," the man says. "Do you want me take them all?"
They don't wanna go where we're goin'.
"Yea. All of 'em."
"What'cha got on you now?"
"Simply money from our transactions in the Rogue Islands. We left there two days ago. Where are you headed, stranger?" the man asks as if it were a formality.
"North", Skaar answers plainly.
"These people going to be okay there? They got nothin'."
"They will be fine," the man rambles. "If they recall where their homes are, we can take them back. Perhaps we will find some new trading partners. The world gets smaller everyday, orc. Are you sure your vessel will make it to your destination?"
He glances at the passengers as his men bring the older and infirm ones up. "Forgive me, I am Hattori Yakamoto. I often forget my manners during unexpected encounters."
"Skaar", he grunts as he offers a massive paw for a handshake.
In regards to the question, Skaar looks down at his own tiny vessel.
"I dunno. The girl here is skilled and knows how to handle it, but something bigger might be good for where we're headed. Is there a yard the way we're goin'?"
Hattori returns the gesture with a firm grasp. "Brannum has made it difficult to get in. We would have been further ahead, but Horace has set up blockades. There are no shipwrights that don't owe allegiance to him. I might be able to do something for you, but it'd take you out of the way."
Skaar considers the suggestion.
"How far?"
"A day," Hattori says bluntly. "Even if you decide not to go along with my idea, at least, let me offer you some food and some wine. You look a little peckish."
A day...
"Okay. If you can get me someplace the girl and I can get a solid ship under us, I'd owe ya. I can give you some coin for your troubles."
The big Orc puts a hand against his own muscular midsection to quell the rumbling, "Food would be good too."
"If you're headed north, I figure you might do something to help me," Hattori says, leading you and Corda into the captain's quarters. He speaks a quick word to a passing crewman and opens the door for you. "I can't say that I act out of the goodness of my heart, but you have an air about you that says you are capable and I need a capable person."
Skaar quickly finds himself much more at ease. The captain wanted something afterall.
"What do ya need?"
"Let's eat first," Hattori says, pulling a chair out for Corda. "Business can wait."
Skaar remains at least a little leery but grunts his approval.
"Bring on the grub."
Corda followed and stayed close to Skaar while on the vessel. She was in complete awe, as she had never seen a ship of this size. Her stomach rumbled, "Yes I agree, let's eat."
Steaming bowls of rice and variety of fish prepared in various ways are brought into the cabin. Generous helpings of stout rice wine is served along with different vegetables. Once you have eaten your fill, Hattori leans back in his seat.
"My request is simple. Horace has run off or killed many of the clerics in Brannum, those that remain stay in the Rogue Islands, but they are at a disadvantage. The area is inhospitable to healing herbs and other materials to make potions.
"I want you to deliver a package for me. It's a couple of medicinal potions and some fresh herbs. There is a man named Renwick Sloane in a town called Brassport. He is a healer who needs these items for his clinic and he will be able to produce his own. If he is satisfied, he may do long-term business with me. That's my reason for doing this.
"If you doubt that I'm being honest, I will supply one of the potions as well as some of the herbs. Your lady companion, Skaar, looks capable enough to tell what they are. In return for this task, my brother will sail you to the Rogue Isles and it should be a safer trip for all involved. So what say you?"
Skaar eats heartily of the food provided. He craved some good red meat but fish would do for now. With a belch of satisfaction, the big Orc leans back when business resumes.
"Why's Horace care about these clerics? Are they a threat to him? Does Horace got a hold of Brassport?"
At the mention of Corda, Skaar sends the beautiful young woman a glance. "Do ya mind?"