Creon nods to his companions raising no further statements or objections. He instead scans the area in case something comes upon them, he does not wish the group to be caught unawares.
"You alright, Jericho?" Marcus asked seeing how shaken their new ally was after the fight.
Moving his hands to look over his own wounds and glancing around to see if anyone else seems in need. Muttering to himself and letting his hand glow again.
Turing to Jericho when he hears Marcus question, "The Dawn brings new light as always and no one was gravely injured. What is troubling you Jericho?"
As he shakes off the wobbly feeling, Jericho gives a smile to his new companions, his confidence returning as the truth of their words sinks in, "Yes, I am fine, thank you both. It is just a new experience for me, being manhandled so very thoroughly by a monster that wants to eat me. It is not a thing you can mentally prepare for without having been in the situation before; one of those things you cannot really understand until you have been there. But by the Dawnflower's grace, and I suspect that of Erastil as well, we did indeed triumph. Grateful I am to have such formidable allies."
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"Statement. Agreed Jericho Dask, unnerving is the word that comes to mind. Dying is not nearly as interesting as living".
Grinning and walking over towards Jericho. That was almost funny.
"If you would like I can try to fix at least some of your injury's Jericho."
"I have little doubt that we'll face more challenges like this one, or perhaps worse. It may be difficult, but we'll adapt and survive. We have the skills we need, now we just need to experience to grow stronger."
Grinning and walking over towards Jericho. That was almost funny.
"If you would like I can try to fix at least some of your injury's Jericho."
[dice=Lay on Hands]1d6
Jericho sighs in relief, easing his bruised ribs, "Blessed is the Healing Light. Thank you, Theo. Can I call you Theo?"
Nodding, "I have no issue with it Jericho."
While Marcus takes the time to skin the tatzlwyrms, some of the others look about in the area for both items of interest and the entrance to the lair. The group doesn't find any other immediate danger, and does manage to find the entrance to the lair; as their earlier glance suggested, the lair's entrance is burrowed in beneath the dam. A mound of dirt rises out from the water and heads down below into the earth. Down below is a dank, earthen cave filled with the meager horde the wyrms had managed to scrounge up. Several mounds of coins lie strewn about on the ground, as well as a small jade statue and a finely crafted pewter drinking glass. A small scroll tube also lies amongst the loot, clasped shut with a now-rusted metal clasp. The skeleton caught in the dam wears a set of immaculately crafted chain mail and carries a finely crafted sword. Upon examining the blade, Prophet immediately it's forged of cold iron much like his own greatsword. On one bony finger a silver ring miraculously remains, not swept away by the currents.
Gallidren will detect magic on everything within the lair.
While nothing within the lair is magical, Gallidren does detect a magical presence on the corpse. Examining it in greater depth reveals his armor, while old and worn, appears to have been magically enhanced.
"Not a large horde, but dragons will be dragons it seems. I suggest we collect everything of use. Anything that we can use to our advantage is useful all the way out here." She picks up the scroll case to see if anything inside has survived the torrent.
As Kahurangi picked the items off the ground to gather them, he couldn't help but wonder why the dragons had them in the first place. What good are the coins to them? Yet they would not tarry long here, and neither would his thoughts.
The perceptive youth noticed Theodore was still quite wounded and approached him. "You seem to be adept at mending the wounds of others. Not yourself though?"
Gallidren offers the magical armor up to the fighters of the group. "Can anyone use this?"
Raising an eyebrow at Kahurangi, "I can heal myself and I did so in the fight but I am well enough to travel and Jericho was injured. It is not my way to let someone else suffer when I can take away that pain."
Glancing down at his partially healed wound and then looking up at Kahurangi with a grin, "I have heard that scars can be rather fetching and perhaps I will have better luck then I have managed in the past."
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"That's a most noble outlook, Theodore. I wish I could help you with that wound but I was too stubborn to learn that blessing from my Pa... always favored the Father's most practical blessings." says the hunter as he scratches the back of his head with an awkward smile.
"Ya think this is all of them? They did look like 'river monsters' t'me, but maybe there are other nests..."
"Too heavy for me." Marcus said regarding the scale mail. "Theo? Prophet? Want fancy magic armor?"
Raising an eyebrow at Kahurangi, "I can heal myself and I did so in the fight but I am well enough to travel and Jericho was injured. It is not my way to let someone else suffer when I can take away that pain."
Glancing down at his partially healed wound and then looking up at Kahurangi with a grin, "I have heard that scars can be rather fetching and perhaps I will have better luck then I have managed in the past."
Kahurangi looked a bit torn as Theodore voiced his selfless reliance and was lauded by Jonathan. These are good folk. They deserve the plank of my trust.
Chief Rongo propelled through the air and hovered in front of Theodore, looking into the man's eyes with his black, primitive pupils. "My grandfather is always cautious of new people around me. Sorry, but I've had quite a few run-ins on my journey here." Kahurangi approrached the paladin. "But they are not because I am dangerous. My grandfather gives me a special connection to the heavens. Not Erastil," Kahurangi specified as he looked towards the archer, "or any god in particular. Just the power of the outer reaches. Some think I'm cursed or a witch, but the connection allows me to help cure your injuries. Please allow me to try."
The platypus gave a snort and returned to his grandson's shoulder, Kahurangi's green hand setting upon Theodore's wounds. As he concentrated, a small spectral light could be seen at the connection between the two men. Simultaneously, the light in the area dimmed briefly as did the shaman's eyes. When he pulled his hand away, the wound was healed, the paladin feeling energized.
"I can only call that connection to each person once per day. Maybe that's the heavens' way of keeping the flow in check? Either way, I'm glad I could help."
Looking over at Jonathan, "I am not going to begrudge you your gifts and do not worry. You have been plenty helpful already."
Twisting and wincing when Marcus calls out to him, "I certainly would not mind but if it would help Prophet more then by all means he is welcome to it. Though that kind of armor does slow a body down."
Turning and focusing on the floating Platypus. It is odd that is is not the strangest thing I have seen recently.
Looking over Chief Rongo at Kahurangi and nodding, "By all means go right ahead."
Standing quietly and sighing in relief when the ache of his wounds fades, "Thank you Kahurangi." Glancing back over at Chief Rongo, "You keep referring to him as grandfather. May I ask why?"
A saddened look came over Kahurangi's face. "My people did not have good lives back in Cheliax, so they fled to the islands off the Western coast. They were uninhabited at the time, but the devils tracked us down eventually. Chief Rongo, my grandfather, was killed. They left the islands shortly afterwards, and one of the seers reincarnated him. I was taken as a slave South to Garund, and our paths crossed there."
The youth paused a moment before continuing. "I'm hoping I can reconnect the pieces of my tribe that were taken South and the ones that fled the islands to return to them later in the North, bringing them here. That is, if we remove enough of the threats. They've been through a lot." So have I, but I don't get the luxury of doing nothing.
The platypus glanced at Theodore as he asked his question, but it seemed to be less concerned after Kahurangi began explaining, going back to resting his bill by his neck.
"..what the hell is the duck-beaver and why is it floating?" Marcus said, taking a good look at Kahurangi's strange pet for the first time?
Well now I feel like a arse. Frowning at the given answer and without turning from Kahurangi but correcting Marcus, "Platypus not a beaver-duck."
Making sure to look Kahurangi in the eyes, "My sincerest apologizes for asking such a sensitive question, you certainly did not have to answer honestly. Though I thank you for doing so. And I truly hope you achieve your goal."
"It's an unusual choice of an animal companion," Annika comments. "Regardless of what his species is called. Or is he a familiar?"
Creon watches the interactions in his detached manner. His focus on observing the woods to ensure that nothing approaches without him seeing it approach.
Jericho looks on with interest as his allies go about the business of checking on each other and securing what valuables there are. He feels at a loss for a way to contribute to the activity, and finds himself standing near Creon, half watching the surrounding wilderness, and half watching his companions.
Gallidren prepares to move out. "Let's see if we can explore some new territory on the way to the hermit's hut. I suggest we swing south around the Thorn River bandit camp."
Well now I feel like a arse. Frowning at the given answer and without turning from Kahurangi but correcting Marcus, "Platypus not a beaver-duck."
Making sure to look Kahurangi in the eyes, "My sincerest apologizes for asking such a sensitive question, you certainly did not have to answer honestly. Though I thank you for doing so. And I truly hope you achieve your goal."
Kahurangi repeated the story about his grandfather he'd told to Theodore to Marcus. "In the Mwangi expanse, this animal is called a platypus. They live in the muddy riverbanks, and the males are venomous. Because of that, not much hunts them; they're not usually dangerous." He gave his familiar a pat as he sat on the shaman's shoulder. "Unless you're a child or sick, their sting will just hurt - a lot - for a long time."
Chuckling at Annika's addition, the half-orc clarified: "I don't think Chief Rongo or the seer who brought him back decided on the body. He is my grandfather, though I suppose he acts as a familiar in the ways he connects me to magic. Because it's a strange link, many people are put-off by it and would push us out. I hope you see I mean you no ill will." Especially after helping-out there with Annika's movement and healing Theodore.
The shaman's youth was clear in the emotional connection he had with his elder relative, and given his history, the man-beast acted as a guide and a friend as well. "South sounds fine. I'm not stepping into any dragon-traps first this time though!"
Jericho chuckled quietly at Kahurangi's declaration, smiling in a friendly manner to show that he was laughing in good humor, "But you did a fantastic job of it the first time around, Kahu!"
Marcus shrugged. "This group is pretty accepting. We keep Prophet around. He's way scarier than grandpa beaver-duck."
Annika nods in understanding. "It's a bit odd to see one of your family in a platypus," she says. "But I think it shows how strong your bond is that he would return to aid you. And it will be a pleasure to continue to work with both of you." She nods. "We'll need to clear all of the bandit camps eventually, but for now exploring sounds like a good idea."
As the group treks eastward to head around the now-cleared bandit camp, the sun begins to yet again sink below the treeline, with the several hours spent skinning the tatzlwyrms having carried over into the afternoon. Just at the group seems about ready to begin searching for a place to make camp, they happen upon some crumbling ruins sunken someone beneath the ankle-high water. The ground is thick and muddy, and before long you notice what look like the footprints of a pair of very large frogs. Before the group can remark upon them, though, they hear a coraking voice cry out the words "Truce, truce!" From the farther ruined building comes a vageuly humanoid-looking frog creature, clad in crude leathers with a roughly-fashioned spear in his hand. Behind him comes a larger, purple-skinned monster on all fours with a pair of large tusks jutting from its mouth, covered in a coating of slime. "You go! Truce!" he calls again, his voice something of a gurgle as he raises his hands in front of him; his left hand, the one not holding the spear, is mangled and poorly healed. "Go!" He calls once more, looking at the party expectantly.
"Uh, go where?" Marcus asked.
Creon draws his bow but does not draw an arrow after all, they did call for a truce from the onset of the encounter.
While Kahurangi felt the unknown frog-man was probably not here of his own will, the lack of hostility on his part gave him pause. He let Marcus do the talking.
"Uh... we mean you no harm?" Annika tries, raising her hands to show that she holds no weapon. "Might we speak in peace?" Given it's tone, it may not even speak Common well, but it's worth trying to be diplomatic.
Jericho also raises his hands, palms out, to show peaceful intentions, "Truce, indeed, my friend. My name is Jericho. Have you a name? We are seeking knowledge of this area and those who live in it, have you lived here long?"
The frog creature just stomps his feet a few times when Creon draws his bow, gesturing to it with his mangled hand. "Die!" he bellows, but doesn't move to carry out what seems to be a threat. He stares blankly at the party but seems somewhat reassured by the raised hands and more or less lack of drawn weapons; even Creon with his bow drawn seems to be less of an issue when he doesn't reach for an arrow. When Jericho says the word 'truce', the little frog pauses. While he doesn't seem to understand most of Jericho's words, the tone of voice seems to calm him. "Truce!" he replies simply, before pointing out the ground at his feet, then at the building next to the party and the one he just came out of. "Me! Boggard! Slurk!" he says in quick succession, gesturing to the buildings and ground again, this time with a bit more fervor. "Truce! You go!" he calls again, pointing away from the buildings and back the way you came. While the little creature doesn't seem overly violent, he also doesn't seem to understand any more words of Common than he's spoken.
"I don't suppose that anyone speaks... boggard I guess?" Annika sighs. "He doesn't seem particularly violent, but I don't think we'll get anything out of him without someone who can speak to him properly. Maybe we should give him some space. I'm sure we can find another way."
"Great. Now we get to play charades with a couple of weird frogs." Marcus said rolling his eyes.
Holding his hands up as well. "I agree that we should just leave him be."
Jericho edges his mount back, turning slightly to face the others, "Yeah, I am at a loss as well."
Gallidren approaches with curiosity. "The larger, purple-skinned creature is known as a Slurk. Originally the result of dwarves attempting to breed an underground pack animal, these frog-like creatures often become steeds or beasts of burden for other species. Slurks are carnivores and have a particularly vicious bite, but also secrete strange slime from their bodies; the nodules on the slurk's back produce a sticky and quickly hardening substance while those on its stomach produce a very slippery one. Slurks are also capable of climbing walls or ceilings thanks to their suctioned feet, although this isn't of much use in the forests of the Greenbelt."
Gallidren offers the creature some food. "Can someone try to heal his hand? He may be a valuable ally if we can help him."
When Gallidren starts to approach any further, the frog man gasps and grips his spear in both hands again. "Die, die!" he chants again, motioning with the spear toward the party. The slurk behind him grumbles and huffs, pawing at the ground. "Truce?" the frog man says with a saddening tone, his shoulders drooped. "Truce? Go!"[/b] He shouts again, gesturing away from his home. "You go! Go!" He hollers, now on-guard since Gallidren's attempt at an approach. He doesn't seem ready to attack, but he seems disheartened and confused by your actions. While he doesn't seem to understand Common, he's used gestures to try and communicate, so it's a fair bet he might understand them if you try as well.
Marcus pulls out a potion and mimes drinking it, then tosses it gently to the ground in front of the frog man.
Creon places his bow over his back once more, it is clear these creatures want no battle and Creon is not apt to bring one to someone who does not deserve one.
When Marcus tosses the potion toward the frog man, it almost seems to float through the air before it lands and rolls to the creature's feet. He picks it up with his mangled hand, handling it clumsily as he pulls the cork from the top of the flask. He sniffs it once, then narrows his eyes at the group when he raises it to his lips. He drinks the potion slowly and gasps with alarm when the flesh of his mangled hand warps and mends itself before his eyes. He starts to cry out with terror, but immediately seems to notice that his hand is no longer as damaged as it was, and he begins to hop up and down a few times, water splashing at his feet.
"No go!" the frog man says, waving the group toward him. "Truce!" he shouts again, ecstatic to both have his hand mended and, you can only assume from his actions, to have made new friends. He beckons you into the building he came from, hopping all the while.
Sighing and mumbling, "Now we get to play charades with a couple of weird frogs Marcus. Though that was a kind thing you did."
Gesturing to the group towards the building, "Shall we?"
"That was well done, Marcus." Jericho follows the others toward the building.