The Docks of Absalom are bustling with activity as dockhands load and unload various crates full of cargo and passengers bustle to and fro, but even then one ship stands apart from the rest. The Gyrwood, a ship generously donated by the Primarch for the voyage to Azlant, stands in the harbor with her azure sails furled. The massive wooden dragon head that serves as the ship's figurehead stares out toward the Inner Sea, the mouth affixed into a permanent roar. While the dock workers load food and other supplies onto the ship, some of the undoubtedly many settlers have gathered and are preparing to board for the coming voyage. Most carry only a few bags or nothing at all, and it's clear that all of them have their unique reasons for leaving their previous lives behind.
As the sun begins to dip below its high point in the sky, the settlers and explorers see a man approach the docks with a retinue of sailors. He sweeps his dark hair away from his face as he plops a large, ostentatious hat onto his head. The sleeves of his loose-fitting maroon shirt flow in the breeze coming in off the sea, and his black cloak ripples behind him. One wrist sports a small, circular shield while his other hand rests calmly on the hilt of a falcata. He stops in front of the group of gathered men and women, and whistles loudly when he and his men stop. "Well now, quite a crowd we've gathered here today, isn't it? I assume you're here for our maiden voyage, aren't you?" The man gives a broad grin as he sweeps a hand toward the Gyrwood. "If you weren't intending to travel to the ruins of an ancient civilization, I would suggest you find the right ship before it sets sail without you on it, eh?" He waves the crew members behind him to head up onto the ship, moving through the huddled masses waiting to board. "My name is Captain Menas Gallifrey, and I will be sailing this beautiful vessel toward our collective new horizon. It is a pleasure to meet the lot of you, and I should hope sailing with you will prove to be just as pleasant. Come then, everyone aboard!" Gallifrey whips one hand up toward the boat as he shouts, stirring up a reaction from the crowd around you. The colonists quickly begin to head up the gangplank onto the ship, as the crew and captain show them to their bunks. All told, there are several hundred colonists now aboard the massive vessel, waiting to set sail.
As the last of the colonists step aboard, the crew escorts them below deck for a time to place their belongings and find their bunks. Once people have begun to get settled, the crew shepherds the voyagers back onto the upper deck. The captain stands up near the helm and shouts yet again for attention. As his crew draw up the anchor, he grins again and points his blade out toward the sea, toward the distant ruins of ancient Azlant. "Whether prince or pauper, all those on this expedition may find new life on distant shores." The sails unfurl as the ship begins to pull away from the relative safety of Absalom's harbor, and Gallifrey swirls his curved blade in the air. "Heave ho, for Azlant!"
Annika weaves her way through the crowd, picking her way around the crew members and settlers that are gathered on the docks. She's remarkably light on her feet, moving smoothly in and out of the smallest gaps in the swarm. She's a bit of an odd sight, though perhaps not so odd for Absalom. Her hair is a vibrant auburn and her eyes are wide and round, with large violet pupils that seem to shine slightly. Sharp, pointed ears clearly reveal her elven heritage. Her clothes are a bit stranger. They look somewhere between a robe and armor, with silk layered over an odd bronze layer that looks like it could be woven cloth or some sort of metallic fibers. A slim, curved blade sits at her hip, the bronzed hilt glinting against the crimson leather sheath. She only comes to a stop when the captain begins to speak, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet while she listens to the loud man directing the ship and rallying the colonists.
Though he may not be unusual in Absalom, Janus stands out in any group. He towers over even a large man and his hair, worn long and braided, seems almost to be aflame, particularly in the bright light of the sun. The traditional hides and homespun cloth of the far northern lands further mark him in the urban metropolis; though to a knowing eye, his clothes are of far lighter materials than they would be further north.
Unlike Annika, Janus does not fit through spaces in the throng, but rather he slowly forces his way through it as it parts on either side of his huge frame like flowing water before a stone. A massive club nearly as tall as Janus himself hangs down his back, and a beautifully wrought drum hangs at one hip where his hand occasionally taps a short rhythm.
Although he doesn't stand out with great size and foreign dress like Janus, Derrick also parts the crowd as he moves. The path around him is smaller, and usually separates only once he pushes into someone and they turn to see him. He's tall and has the bearing of a warrior, but that alone isn't the cause for the berth given him. It's more a feeling that creeps up when you look at the man, especially if he gets close. There's something offputting about him that goes beyond the weapons and armor he's wearing, and it's hard to put a finger on what... at least until he gets close. The hooded man's gaunt face is mostly obscured, but it's obvious that he has horrifying scarring from his jaw going up, and etched in an unnatural pattern.
Once he reaches the ship, Derrick pauses to hear the captain's speech, glancing over his shoulder from time to time. They can't have followed me. And they wouldn't attack in a crowd like this. Secrecy. More likely if they find out, they'll send someone with the next ship. Have to be ready by then. He takes a rare moment to breathe easy, but soon enough his hand on the sword hilt at his hip, and he's tense again. Let's get moving.
When the colonists are aboard, Derrick moves to one of the crew who's directing them and stops. After a moment too long, he taps the boarding axe on his belt. "I'm part of the crew. Where are the quarters?"
This is it. The chance of a lifetime! Something even my Uncle never did. This will be my mark on the Society and get me not the Chronicles I know it! Muses Donkor as he heads up the gangplank moving along with the mass of the colonists onto the ship.
The tall wiry youth has long dirty blonde hair and grey eyes. He sports rugged good looks without being very rugged! Still, he is able to move with the flow of the crowd easily enough.
As there is a break in the crowd, Donkor approaches the Captain, or tries to, "Captain Gallifrey, a moment of your time sir?"
Marcus was good at looking like a nobody. It had served him well over the yearsHe wasnt tall or short. He disn't have any scars or particular bearing that wold make people remember him much. He was just a guy in a crowd. The only distinguishing feature about him was the elven spear he leaned on.
That's the way it used to be, anyway. It was how he'd stayed a step ahead of the bounty hunters for so long. Now, he traveled with a tattooed elven aristocrat, an orcish shaman, and his floating beaverduck.
It was harder to stay forgetable in that company.
He tried to stay a few steps away from them in the crowd, hoping all the eyes they gathered wouldn't catch him too. He tugged his hood down a little lower and walked up the gangplank onto the ship. The three of them had paid damn good money for a private cabin, and he really wanted to be inside it with the door shut.
Tugging the hood down over his head and shuffling forward tiredly, back bent to lessen his height. Unfocused yellow eyes remain focused on the ground.
Even with never looking up the shuffling half orc never look up he easily avoids bumping into anyone. Silently moving with the crown and finding an empty bunk. Sitting down, dropping his backpack at his feet, and staring at the wooden floor with unfocused eyes.
A crew member spins around to talk to Derrick, starting to talk before he turns all the way around. "Right, the captain said we'd have some new—" The man does his best not to hide his uneasiness when he sees the grotesque scarring on the man's face. He stammers for a second, off-put by Derrick's lack of response to his pause. When he finally regains composure, he's noticeably staring past the man and not at him. "—blood. I'll let him know you're here. Crew quarters are starboard, just take whatever bunk you find. It, uh... there's no difference. Sleep where you like. Someone will get you your shift rotation soon."
Captain Gallifrey spins as Donkor approaches, a wide smile on his face. He breathes in deeply through his nose, then sighs contentedly. "Nothing quite like the smell of the sea, is there?" He takes Donkor's hand—whether the Pathfinder offers it or not—and shakes it vigorously. "What can I do for you, my young fellow?"
Gallidren brings his gear on board and silently surveys both the ship and the crew. Our lives will depend on this vessel and those whom will navigate it. I hope they are up to the task.
He then nods at Kahurangi and Marcus. "It's good to be out of the Stolen Lands, my friends. I am eager to begin our exploration of the ruins of Azlant."
He will introduce himself to the newcomers. "Greetings, I am Gallidren Aerenduill from Rostland. Who do I have the honor of serving with on this noble expedition?"
Donkor returns the shake of Captain Gallifrey just as vigorously and exclaims excitedly, "Well Captain, I am recently of the Pathfinder Society and this is my first trip and I believe a very important one! Is there a way that we could speak every few days so that I can capture your thoughts and feelings on the journey as we travel to and arrive at the island?"
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Garrick made his way to the boat with the others. In such a crowd a single souls would usually blend in easily.
That would have been the case with the tiefling, if he had decided to cover the multiple strange flasks he carried with his long cloak or his horns with the cloak's hood.
His tail waving around while he walked aboard sure wasn't discrete. The shiny oversized handcannon hanging from his belt almost passed unnoticed given the rest of details.
"Love the smell of salt and adventure." he commented to whoever wanted to pay attention to his words.
He stood tall by human standards, not as tall as the huge man and a half that carried an oversized drum and obviously less muscled than him.
Garrick was fit indeed, but he possesed the sort of fitness you see in large felines.
Garrick eyed the other new members of the crew as he breathed the fresh breeze deeply, paying special attention to the scarred man asking about the crew's quarters. The man had something that brought bad memories to Garrick, yet it was something that he couldn't quite point out. He spent the next couple minutes trying to put two and two until Gallidren spoke to the group.
Removing his fancy hat and faking a half-bow "I'm Garrick, no last name since those are expensive, but a pleasure nonetheless." he said with a wide smile.
Gallidren brings his gear on board and silently surveys both the ship and the crew. Our lives will depend on this vessel and those whom will navigate it. I hope they are up to the task.
He then nods at Kahurangi and Marcus. "It's good to be out of the Stolen Lands, my friends. I am eager to begin our exploration of the ruins of Azlant."
He will introduce himself to the newcomers. "Greetings, I am Gallidren Aerenduill from Rostland. Who do I have the honor of serving with on this noble expedition?"
Matching his huge frame rather well, Janus' voice is a profoundly deep rumble accompanied by a quiet and complex rhythm on his drum, "I am Janus Draugur. I come from far north. The Lands of the Linnorm Kings."
Annika catches sight of an unusual group gathering, including a rather flamboyant tiefling and someone who looks far to big to be fully human. She ducks past another pair of colonists bringing their things on board and goes to see what's going on. "Annika from Riddleport," she introduces herself.
Derrick stares blankly at the other crewman as he stammers and starts. At first the reactions toward him had been surprising, but by now they were old news. Derrick couldn't even find it in himself to be disappointed or angry about the way people responded to his appearance anymore. Instead, he simply nods, says, "Thanks," and turns to move on his way.
As he makes his way toward the lower deck, though, he can't help but notice the gathering of several strange passengers. A tiefling with all sorts of strange flasks and a gun on his hip, a mountain of a man with a massive drum, and a woman who looks to be a little more than half an elf... Strange company to have on a ship like this.
So while normally he'd just be about his business, Derrick lingers nearby, listening to the odd group. He feigns examining some rigging for the time, hoping they might not notice him... Fat chance, with that bloody sword on your back.
The captain gives Donkor a warm smile, and claps the man on the shoulder. "Of course, my dear boy! I'd be delighted to speak with you. This is an exciting journey for the lot of us, don't you think? Perhaps I can convince some of the crew to speak with you as well." As Gallifrey and Donkor talk, the ship slowly begins to pull away from the docks, and Absalom shrinks from view as you venture out to sea. "I'll be quite busy of course, but perhaps after meals every few days? That might be a good time to speak with you. If you've got a better time, I'd be happy to work with you."
To home.
That was Kahurangi's first thought as he stepped aboard the Gyrwood. It was true in a sense - the course before them would take him to what prophetically was to be the Riverfork's new home. In his heart, he needed to feel that reality coming into being. Yet it was the geography of the trip that spoke to him; he would be sailing by the isles of his youth. Internally sighing, he attempted to squelch the homesickness.
"It was a long road, but we're here." Marcus and Gallidren had made it through the Stolen Lands with the young shaman, yet there were sure to be troubles abundant ahead. "Now for the long wash."
Kahurangi felt at home on the water. His people had lived off it for years when he was young. Being so, he wasn't so impressed with the Gyrwood or the gaudiness of its captain, but more interested with the crew. They're well-mixed. The half-orc's vibrant green skin wouldn't be as much of a beacon here, nor would his familiar. Some began to introduce themselves.
"Kahurangi," he said plainly as an introduction, his plain linens and spear held as a walking stick indicative of no wealth in his heritage. A mammal with the bill of a duck and tail of a beaver adorned his shoulder. "This is my grandfather, Chief Rongo. We are of the Riverfork tribe." Kahurangi gave the patriarch a pat.
He did not push his way through the group, but his keen ears picked-up the conversations of the crew. He gazed upon the scarred face of a man talking to a deckhand. Perhaps he suffered as I did in my past...
Putting his budding pity away, he looked to the horizon. What fortune does the future hold for us?
Donkor beams, "No Captain, that schedule is perfect for me. I appreciate this access. Let's hope someday the Bard's will write tales of our journey!"
Aftre his successful interaction with the Captain, Donkor will seek out his quarters for the journey and look to see if there are any other colorful characters on board to interact with. While everyone has a story to tell, some are more interesting than others...
"Ah, I'm sure they will! How could they not tell the tale of our amazing exploits on this lost continent? With any luck, our stories will go down in legends for years to come." Gallifrey grins and ushers Donkor away so he might continue to steer the ship. "I'm sure we'll have more time to speak soon, but for now I fear I must tend to my crew and make sure the beginning of our voyage is as smooth as possible. I'll speak with you soon, my friend."
Kahurangi looks out over the waves and examines the horizon, trying to read the weather. It looks like, for the time being, tomorrow should quite literally be smooth sailing; he doesn't see any storms brewing in the future, at least not tomorrow.
While the first few days of the trip are smooth sailing, as the ship clears the mouth of the Inner Sea the weather slowly turns for the worse. The first day Kahurangi notices the clouds brewing on the horizon, and both he and the sailors seem wary when they notice the red sky the next morning. As the seas become choppier, eventually the clouds overhead turn to rain, and most of the passengers head below deck as the crew hurry around the deck to keep the ship sailing. A few of the passengers remain above deck as the storm grows worse, but for the most part the ship is empty of the colonists.
As the waves begin to crash up over the deck, a few of you spot a bit of movement from the edge of the ship; a crew member yells out as he's dragged overboard by the massive, scaly hand of a creature emerging onto the deck. The four-armed monstrosity carries one long trident in two of its arms with thick claws on the other two hands, and the monster is followed by several smaller creatures soon after. They skitter about the deck with their teeth bared, their eyes locking on those remaining on deck. Soon after, another group emerges toward the back of the boat as well. With Captain Gallifrey nowhere to be seen, the crew draw their blades and try to ward away the monsters. "Get back! If you can't fight, get below deck! Go!" The monsters step forward, headed toward the hatches that lead below to the colonists and the supplies. They stick close together as they move about, ready to fight. "They're going for the hold! Keep them away!"
Initiative!
Grandfather, give us some vision from above in case they keep coming!
Kahurangi only saw the boarding party in front of him, and he was pleased to see they were only in one section. This could be worse. Still, he was not thrilled by the prospect of putting his mettle to the test.
"Desna is with us! Take your blades to them!"
Perhaps a misnomer for him as he didn't carry a blade, the young shaman readied his spear and moved into position.
Gallidren raises the alarm as he draws his bow and casts mage armor on himself. "To arms, we are under attack!"
"Sahaugin! Strike down the four armed one first, they are the leaders", bellows Donkor.
"To arms, enemies on deck!" Calling an alarm, Janus moves forward to block the path from the poop deck to the holds. His greatclub held ready, he prepares to attack the first creature to come in range.
Keeping to himself at the start of the journey. Alternating between laying in his bunk or staring out at the wide ocean. Never actively seeking anyone out for conversation or company. The few that due get slow responses, soundly very much like he is half asleep.
Tilting his head to the side and listening to the crew yell. Shaking his head and looking around with a confusion, "What the hell is going on?"
Turning again as the yelling continues and the the scraping of strange looking creatures pulling their way on-board.
Rushing forward to the stairs the large group is not using. While moving the half orc tugs a dark wooden shield from his back and drawing a long sword from its place at his waist.
As the sahuagin board the ship, a few more of them crawl up over the side of the ship with spears in hand. Several of them give a shark-like grin as they open the hatch and move down below. "Stop them! They're going after the passengers!" The crew wave their blades toward the monsters, trying to ward them away as they prepare for an attack. One of the monsters lunges toward Conri as he runs forward, but the half-orc manages to interpose his shield between the trident and the monster's jaws. Several of them climb up over the railing toward the rest of the party, growling when they move with their leader.
The four-armed leader lunges at Marcus with his trident, his chain shirt whipping around with the wind. It's difficult, but Marcus dodges and weaves through the sahuagin's attacks, sliding the prongs of the trident away with his spear. Another of the sahuagin stabs at him as well, but the former bandit is quicker than them and manages to keep himself safe for the time being.
"Drive them away from the hatch! Don't let any more of them below deck!"
"Gods damn it," Annika mutters. She can't allow the monsters to get at innocent people. She rushes up to the upper hatch and leaps clear over the sahaugin's head, dropping down to the lower level with a clean flip.
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Moving without delay Garrick frantically looks for a clear line of fire on the four armed monstrosity that sits in the middle of the boat.
As soon as he is clear the tiefling raises his oversized gun and with a grin yells "Gobshite, meet gunfire!" almost getting interrupted byt the thunderous roar that precedes the bullet.
"Sonofab@!+@!" Marcus cursed as the monsters swarmed the deck right where he'd been just about to tuck his head into his cloak for a nap.
He quickstepped back away from them and leveled his spear, tossing a dagger at the four-armed leader.
The shaman did not want to bear the heavy burden of letting the people below deck perish under his protection, even unofficial as it was. Calling on the spirits of his ancestors, the air grew dark around the half-orc, light seemingly sucked into the black holes of his eyes. After a moment, he spoke a syllable and thrust his right hand forward. From it, myriad colors cascaded towards the leader and one of its subordinates in a cone.
It was then he took a step back and hefted his trident.
The platypus paddled through the air as fast as its plump little body could take it.
Grinning at the rush of adrenaline hit him and lashing out with his long sword.
Derrick had been working in the rigging when the shouts came, and he quickly looks down to spy the creatures coming aboard the ship. With a scowl and a curse, he drops to the deck and rolls to his feet, coming up beside some of the other crewhands with his boarding axe in hand--the sword has been hidden in his bunk for most of the voyage. He sprints toward the nearest of the enemy and hacks in heavily with the axe, carving a gash through its chest.
Annika runs and leaps past a pair of the seafolk and plummets down into the hold, where she quickly finds herself surrounded by the pair of sahuagin when they twitch their tails and lick their chops in anticipation. A pair of crew members start to run forward as she drops down, but she's still found herself in the thick of a fight. Up above, Garrick and Marcus both manage to strike the four-armed mutant. Garrick blasts it in the chest with his pistol and Marcus quickly spots the opportunity and chucks the the dagger into the wound, and the monster snarls at the both of them. However, its reaction is short-lived as Kahurangi's spell bedazzles it and it rubs at its eyes with its open hands. It's companion just drops to the ground, limbs twitching as it falls unconscious.
Derrick charges in with his axe, but the sahuagin's scaly hide deflects his axe blade. It retaliates and nearly stabs with him its trident, but he twists out of the way in the nick of time. However, as the second sahuagin crawls up the bannister behind him, he lets out a bloody gurgle as another trident spears him in the back. The massive four-armed sahuagin lunges forward as well, but even after being wounded Derrick manages to dodge the attack. A few more of the creatures crawl up over the side as a pair of them drop down into the hold.
The crew charge in to attempt to hold their own, largely to some degree of success. The crewman behind Derrick stabs his blade deep into the back of the creature that struck Derrick, and the other two move up as well. One strikes it through the railing of the steps, and the other holds his blade in a defensive posture. On the other side of the ship the crew move as a unit and attack the sahuagin, scoring a few hits and leaving them bleeding slightly on the deck. Down below, the crew move to attack the invading monsters and score a few hits, although for the most part their weapons are blocked by their scaled skin.
Janus pulls the huge club from his back with blurring speed while his other hand begins a heavy, thudding beat on his drum. The throbbing rhythm echoes around the ship, bolstering the courage of the defenders and guiding their motions into a frenzied state of heightened grace.
Janus pulls the huge club from his back with blurring speed while his other hand begins a heavy, thudding beat on his drum. The throbbing rhythm echoes around the ship, bolstering the courage of the defenders and guiding their motions into a frenzied state of heightened grace.
Gallidren takes a 5' step backwards and casts gravity bow.
Up on deck, Gallidren steps back and mutters arcane phrases under his breath as his bow seems to glow for a moment with magical energy. Meanwhile, beneath the deck Janus's song invigorates the crew members as they prepare to face off against the monsters that have gone below to raid their supplies and kill the colonists.
However, after being thoroughly beaten it seems the sahuagin are back on the attack. One of the creatures sidesteps next to Annika and stabs her thigh with his trident. However, she manages to avoid the monster's claws and the attack from its fellow, keeping herself relative free from harm. Up on deck two of the sahuagin gang up on one of the crewman, and between their trident and their vicious teeth, he collapses to the deck in a puddle of his own blood. Another crew member narrowly dodges the first strike of one of the sahuagin, but it screeches in anger as it sleeps forward and rips out the man's throat with its teeth. The monster yells into the night sky as blood drips from its fangs, and turns hungrily to face the other seaman next to it.
One of the monsters also attacks Conri, but again the half-orc manages to block it with his shield. Another of the sahuagin rushes at Garrick and jabs eagerly with its trident, but the tiefling sidesteps and the trident's prongs just bite into the deck.
Annika hisses as the creature stabs into her leg, but twists and retaliates with a swift slash, carving her slim blade across the creature's chest. "Begone sharp spawn."
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Quickly stepping backwards, the Grenadier rushes to reload the barrel he fired before.
His tail darts towards one of his bandoliers and slips inside the first loop drawing a little paper bag before moving it to Garrick's face so he can bite the top off.
Without delay the tiefling unloads the contents inside the open barrel and spins it, making a satisfying clinking sound that triggers a smile.
"You messed with the wrong devil, shark." he says to the sahuagin that accosted him before aiming the oversized gun and point-blank firing both barrels.
As his spell took effect, Kahurangi sought to make effective use of his time. Mainly used for skewering fish, he thrust his spear into the large, blinded creature. Back to where you came from, fiend!
"Always a party, wherever we go, eh Kahurangi" Marcus grinned as he thrust his own spear past the shaman toward the four armed fish man.
"At least this time we have some background music."
As two slay one crewman, Donkor sings a dirge in their direction striking a shriek at type last minute that releases a cone of musical shards at them slicing them.
Chord of Shards - Ref Negate DC 16
The half-orc took a moment to smile at Marcus's lightheartedness. "I'll be happy enough once the waves against the ship are the only things I can hear. Let's get rid of these snarling beasts!" Kahurangi jerked a slimy shaft from the creature's body.
He cast his eyes skyward. Anything to watch out for, Grandfather?
The platypus kept paddling, yet it emitted no reply of anxiety .
Derrick sidesteps back to avoid the first stab from the sahuagins, but then he feels a sharp pain and coughs a spray of fine blood as another trident pierces his back. He twists and wrenches free from the weapon, his axe clenched in hand, and then quickly ducks under yet another attack. Seeing the crew coming to his aid, and hearing Janus's emboldening drumming from belowdeck, Derrick brings his boarding axe about in a quick chop at the sahuagin between himself and the crew members.
Marcus drives his spear deep into the chest of the blinded leader, who roars with pain as it thrashes wildly, trying to hit him with its weapon despite being unable to see. Kahurangi turns and drives his own weapon into the chest of the unconscious sahuagin, and the body writhes as he pins it to the deck of the ship. He draws his spear back bloody, and the body lies still. Donkor strides across the ship and his voice bellows as it cuts through the flesh of the monsters on board, and one of them falls to the deck. Derrick's axe cuts down yet another of the monsters, even as he bleeds from his first wound. Conri whips his blade across the face of the sahuagin in front of him, its blood flying out into the sea as the half-orc faces down the monster. Garrick steps back and one of his shots nearly blows the creature's face in half, and the other barely misses as it hisses at him.
The sahuagin, however, fight back with a vengeance. The sahuagin in front of Derrick drives the trident into his thigh just before the leader catches him in the chest. While still standing, Derrick's breathing is ragged as his bloody hand comes away from his chest. Two more of the sahuagin run down below deck, coming up against Janus and the crew below. Janus wallops one of them with a club as it runs past and it falls to the deck, and a crew man cuts a gash across one of them as well. One of them tries to stab a crew member as he comes forward, but he misses by a hair. Down below, several of the monsters head down toward the hold with the bulk of the supplies. However, as one of them runs past it pauses and jabs Janus with its trident, and he feels the prongs rip at his flesh.
The crew stab their blades into the gut of two of the sahuagin, and the monsters fall to the deck. One of the men chases down the monsters toward the hold while the others hold their positions with the monsters they already face.
Janus steps past the monster that wounded him to better block its access to the hold. With a snarl of effort he staves off the pain of his wounds as he swings his huge club at the creature, continuing his drumming rhythm with barely a thought.
Gallidren fires on the nearest sahuagin with his gravity bow.