"Lets not take any chances on werewolf bites, alright? We need to either kill him now or make sure that if he turns furry in the night, he ain't just going for the nearest throat." Marcus said worried.
"I'll help with the first watch then. And I would suggest that we make sure that none of our more... blood thirsty companions are on watch alone. And unless I'm mistaken, tonight is not the full moon, so his first transformation won't occur immediately if he has been given the curse."
"No, the next full moon should be tomorrow night, if I'm remembering it right." Kilarra kneels by the man, assessing his vitals. "He wouldn't turn tonight, but even if he did a few ropes wouldn't do much more than anger him. You'd need heavy chain to keep him held down. Still, we can tie him up if you'd rather; the chance of him hurting himself is admittedly slim."
"Tie him up if you're squeamish about killing him. Personally, I bet that's the better idea." Prophet slides his sword back into its scabbard and flops down on the ground, clasping his hands behind his head. "And don't worry about watch. I get some sleep, my friend calms down a bit. Besides," he adds, picking at his fingernails. "I don't like killing men who've already given up. No honor in that. No fun either."
"Wake me for the last watch if no one has an issue with that." If there are no issues then Theodore would pull out his bed roll and soon fall asleep.
First watch.
Marcus shrugs and ties the wounded man's hands in front of him. Then he laid his bedroll out near the fire. "Wake me whenever."
As the moon slowly rises over the tree-line in the clearing, those on the first watch eventually retire for the night and send for those staying up through the middle of the night. Kilarra keeps her bow at the ready with Creon, both of them closer to the fire while Prophet patrols the campsite. At one point, around two in the morning, Creon visibly tenses and pulls an arrow from his quiver, placing it on the string. "Warning: We are not alone." Soon enough, Prophet notices something as well; the quiet noise of paws closing in around their campsite.
"Sounds like we've got company," she remarks, gesturing for the others to arm themselves. "I'd guess the scent of blood is what drew them. We'd better get ready." As she says that, Prophet catches a singular pair of yellow eyes through the trees, some sixty feet out. They're not big enough to be a werewolf, but they're certainly lupine in nature.
Theo grabs his sword and peers into the woods.
"Those look like wolves. Could we not chase them off? I would rather not battle mundane beasts looking to feed their young."
Prophet stares back at the eyes and tightens the grip on his sword. After a few seconds, he brings the weapon up, narrows his own amber gaze, and lets out his own predatory growl. He isn't simply not flinching--he's establishing his own dominance in this situation.
Marcus sat up, blinking and clearing his head. Bestial eyes in the firelight set adrenaline surging. Suddenly he was hyper aware and ready to bolt, but his conscious mind knew that was a death sentence. He looked quickly back over his shoulder and spoke with exaggerated calm that he certainly didn't feel. "Pull back to that stone. Archers in the rear, back to the rock. "
He reached down to cut the ropes on the feet of their prisoners and pointed to their severely wounded friend. "Grab his bed roll, drag it that way. Move."
While he talked he grabbed his spear and his pack and stood up slowly.
Annika rolls over and half climbs to her feet, groping around for a moment to find one of her daggers. "Wonderful. I was hoping we'd get a full night sleep too..."
Gallidren springs to his feet and grabs his bow. "Don't take any chances. Fire if you have a target."
Prophet raises his sword and growls menacingly into the darkness, the half-orc's gutteral call leaving nothing but the silence of the forest, hanging still as the group stands and arms themselves. A few moments later, Prophet hears a snarl not far from his position, with a few more sets of eyes glowing in the moonlight. Somewhere to his left, a howl breaks out and the snarling grows louder. A few of the wolves step free of the treeline while the rest stand farther back, now surrounding the party and their captive bandits. "Looks like they don't think you're the stop of the food chain," Kilarra says, her blade at the ready. "Guess we'll have to teach them what's what, huh?"
Initiative!
Gallidren takes a 5' step backwards towards the fire and then fires upon the nearest wolf that steps forward.
Letting go of the hilt of his sword and pulling out his longbow as he steps to the side. Aiming for the wolf on the far left.
One wolf falls to the ground bleeding from two arrows wounds as Gallidren and Theo both fire into the beast's chest. The first rushes forward towards Gallidren and snaps its jaws viciously, but the elf ducks away from the bite in the nick of time. The second comes up upon Theo's flank and closes its teeth around his shin; however, the Paladin's armor protects his flesh and the wolf's jaws come away clean of blood. The two beasts snarl and drop their bodies low to the ground as they divide Theo's attention, waiting for another opening in order to strike.
Still growling, Prophet just steps forward and slashes at the closest wolf, his voice growing to a shout as he strikes.
With a mighty roar, the half-orc cleaves deep into the neck of one of the wolves, and as he rips his blade away, the beast drops to the ground with a muted thud. Kilarra, blade already in hand, moves forward and draws her blade as the wolves surround Theo. Her sword bites deep into the animal's flesh and it yelps with pain, now limping heavily as it turns to face her. Creon's bow is leveled with an arrow drawn, and the android sends it whistling into the throat of one of the wolves nearest Prophet in an attempt to keep him from being overrun. The wolf grunts and falls to the ground, clearly dead.
-----
Three more wolves emerge from the treeline, one of them making a rush at Marcus while the other two growl and lope towards Creon. Marcus dodges backwards with ease and avoids the wolf's attack, but Creon isn't so lucky; the first wolf snaps at nothing but air as the archer ducks to the side, but the second sinks its teeth into his leg and attempts to drag him to the ground. Creon, however, manages to keep his feet and shake the beast off, leaving him facing the two wolves head on.
Annika steps around Markus to take position to attack the wolf. She lashes out with her dagger, aiming to bring it down on the beast's throat and end it quickly.
Annika's blade flashes in the firelight as it wounds another of the animals, cutting the wolf's snout as it steps backwards from its failed attack on Marcus. The wolf yelps, but again bares its teeth in a snarl as Annika brings her sword back up into a guard.
-----
Two more wolves rush towards Prophet, both leaping for his legs with their maws agape. One misses, slinking backwards from the half-orc, but another's teeth pierce deep into his flesh as it tries to drag him to the ground. Prophet plants his feet and wrenches himself from the wolf's clutches, a fresh bite mark on his calf.
"Sonofa!" Marcus yelped as a wolf's jaws clicked far too close to him for his comfort.
He dove past the wolf, throwing himself into a roll to clear distance and brought his spear around to strike after Annika.
Marcus's spear slips past the wolf's jaws and slices along his neck; the beast is still standing, but it bleeds heavily from its two wounds. The heavily wounded wolf near Theo and Kilarra is faring much the same, and it backs away from the two of them, its teeth still bared. The wolf lets out a high-pitched yelp, and limps backwards further still, favoring its wounded side as it does so.
Straightening up, "They will leave if we let them. I have no desire to slaughter these wolves."
Gallidren will hold his attack. "Let them leave then."
As Gallidren and Theo hold their attack, the wolves nearest them take another few steps backward before turning tail and fleeing into the woods. Moments later, the remainder of the pack does so as well; within seconds, the corpses of the dead animals and the trail of blood from the injured members of the pack are all that remain of their battle. While sleep may be somewhat fitful for the party after that, the rest of the night passes without event as they all eventually rise in the morning. As Kilarra wakes up and checks on your captives, she looks out into the forest. "Should we head back the way we came, then? Follow the river up to the clearing, then head after the wolf?" While the captives have been silent throughout the morning, their eyes go wide at the mention of the river.
"No! Don't go by the river. There's some sort of--there's a--we were attacked by some kinda monster in the river, killed one of us before we got away. That's part of the reason he looks the way he does," the bandit says, jerking his thumb towards their heavily wounded companion. "I don't know what it was, but it's bad news."
Marcus breathed out slowly as the wolves vanished back into the night. He looked at the dead dogs laying still in the firelight and started dragging one over nearer to the fire.
He planted the wide back-spike of his spear in the ground and drew a curved knife.
As he stripped the wolves' coats off their bodies with practiced cuts and pulls, he eyed the bandits. "Didn't want to mention the river monster before now, eh?"
"So there's something else out here that like to maul people," Annika says as she sheaths her dagger. "That would have been nice to know when we questioned you earlier. I suppose you didn't get a good look at it either."
Garavel sighs, "We are chartered to explore the greenbelt and clear it for eventual settlement. Though I would prefer to focus on removing the bandits, we can't very well tolerate river monsters either. So, we may as well deal with it now."
"Well, I wasn't expectin' you to head back by the river. I didn't know that's the way you lot came, now did I?" The bandit looks afraid, his eyes wide even at the mention. "I didn't get a great look, but they were huge. They looked like snakes, sort of, but with arms and fins. One of 'em dragged another of our number into the water, and... did that." He gestures to the dead bandit as he looks up at Marcus skinning the wolves with expert strokes. "Look, if you all wanna go on a monster hunt, that's your business. You're already crazed enough to hunt down a werewolf. But I'm not gonna die when one of those things drags me into the water while your back is turned."
"Y'know, he's got a point. Its one thing fer us t' be going' after a bunch of monsters, but we shouldn't be draggin' folks into it against their will. Especially when they're tied up an' we have to keep an eye on 'em."
"If we have someone who's willing to drag them back to town where we can lock them up, or even off to the Trading Post with the rest of the prisoners, then that might not be a bad idea. We can decide where we're going monster hunting after they're taken care of."
"I am inclined to agree. We can go hunting for river monsters later. We need to focus on the werewolves."
"Suggestion: I could escort the three of them back to Corran's Pass, and if possible rejoin you before confronting the werewolf." Creon looks down to the still unconscious bandit, moving him slightly with his foot. "Assertion: One of you two will carry him; I will escort you to Father Kriss. He will care for your remaining wounds." He gestures for one of the two to pick up their comrade, and holds his bow in his hand as he ushers them forward. He looks back at the group before he heads off into the woods, and cocks his head slightly to the side.
"Opinion: I still believe we should kill them. Resignation: I will escort them unharmed regardless."
Without the three bandits, you're left alone in the clearing. The river remains as the only known path back towards the werewolf den, but other paths could be serviceable if you can find them.
Gallidren rubs his chin. "Its probably best if we follow the river to avoid getting lost."
"We got tracks, remember?" Marcus said, pointing to the ground near the edge of the clearing. "Besides, there's another monster in the river."
"We are going to have to kill the river monster later, but let's save that for after we have a werewolf pelt for our wall."
Nodding to Creon, "Thank you for taking them and not killing them."
What wall? "I also prefer to leave the river monster for later."
Prophet shakes out the stiffness of a night's rest and gathers his things to get moving. "Leaving monsters around usually doesn't go over well in the long run, but taking things one at a time is a good plan. You don't sack--" He cuts off before finishing the bandit proverb and coughs. "Ehm. You don't carry two sacks if all you need is one." It doesn't really have the ring of a proverb about it, but it also doesn't suggest committing crimes, so it balances out.
With Marcus taking the lead, the group manages to forge a path up and around the riverbank. While it takes them much longer--they trek for nearly the whole day before arriving back at the site of the dead bandits, with only a few hours of daylight to spare in order to reach the forgotten temple. With the stark reminder that tonight brings with it a full moon, the group presses forward towards the temple, hoping to kill the beast before it causes further damage. Marcus and Kilarra again find the werewolf tracks that lead back to the creature's den, and just as the moon emerges past the treeline, they stumble upon what only be the temple ruins. A placid lake sits in the shadow of the massive stone edifice, the head of an elk hewn from the stony outcropping above it. The temple's remains feel dark and oppressive, the shadows clinging to every crack in the stone. Still, the full moon provides just enough to light to make out the area; unless someone has some kind of light source, those with normal vision will have a hard time fighting in this light.
Gallidren thinks back to the trapped stag. Disciple of Deadeye, beneath the stag you will find your answers. Purge the corruption from our veins, and the Greenbelt will follow. The disease may seep from beneath his helm, but its heart lies beneath our gaze. You are the light in the dark.
He then casts light on the tip of his bow and then casts mage armor on himself. When they are ready to move forward he will cast gravity bow.
"This is the temple that the stag told us about. It is Erastil's will that we cleanse this place."
Having communed with his spirit during the trip, Prophet growls at the site and shifts his sword on his shoulder, easily swung if trouble starts. "Guess we oughta move on in, then?"
"Indeed," Annika says, drawing her blade in one hand and her holy symbol in the other. "Let us finish this beast off once and for all." She prepares to cast divine favor and shield of faith once they move in so she can bring her full might against the werewolf.
As the group prepares their assault on the temple, the placid waters of the lake begin to stir. A rotting hand clasps one of the rocks at the edge and hauls its body up onto land as four ghouls clamber towards the party. As they first emerge their bodies seem to shift and twist in the darkness, but they shriek angrily as the light from Gallidren's bow illuminates them and the clinging shadows are burned away. They hiss as they approach Prophet at the front of the group, snarling as their paralyzing saliva drips from their mouths. Gallidren recognizes one of the ghouls as one of the men left behind when he and Creon once stumbled across this temple, now a rotting corpse seeking to devour his flesh.
Initiative!
Nodding along with the other and moving to take a step before monstrosity crawl out of the water. Take a few steps forward to swing at the closest one.
"Great. There's more than just the wolf..." She slides her sword away and draws a dagger, then calls on her holy strength to defeat the foul undead before her.
Gallidren moves and fires on the rear most ghoul. "Foul undead - we meet again."
Marcus moved in next to Theo and brought his flamberge spear to bear against the ghoul.
With barely a moment's hesitation, Prophet charges the nearest of the undead, the battle song ringing in his heart as the Kordator screams for blood.