Quiet for a few moments with the shock of the mayor's disappearance and while she digests everything she's seen and heard, when the Doctor speaks her voice is confidant yet still tinged with sorrow and concern "I do not think the mayor is dead Daisy, at least not yet. If whoever has been attacking us just wanted him dead, they could have done so without taking him. Our foe seems to be both intelligent and resourceful, yet I do not get the impression that they merely want us all dead. No, there is another agenda going on here. Further, I am quite sure that Orin is right and that it is a druid, or possibly a group of them that oppose us. From my vantage on the tower I had a good view of the fire that struck the ship. It was a column of flame that appeared out of nowhere and struck straight down, exactly hitting the oil reserves. It was very much like a description of a divine spell called flamestrike. A spell which I understand higher level druids have access to. Correct Orin? Further, I noticed something else curious. Just before the flame struck, the nearby birds all scattered, all that is except for one bird with an unusual black marking on it's head. This bird remained in place, very near the origin point of the flame. I am quite sure that this was in fact the druid which cast the spell disguised in avian form."
Waiting a moment for her words to sink in, she then concludes her speech "Finally, I have noticed something else passing strange. For other than the aforementioned birds there seems to be a complete absence of animal life in the area. This would tend to indicate a further connection with the presence of druids on the island, yet what that connection might be, I have not as yet determined." after speaking, she looks around to gauge the impressions of the others.
Leralt listened, thinking for a moment.
"Could the lack of animal life in the area be the druids warning them. They could be planning more attacks or even some sort of plan, one they do not want to get the local animal life in the crossfire. Could they not create a sort of plague or mass attack. It may even be the same thing that got rid of the former settlers. From the state of the place I would say a mass enchantment of some kind could explain all this."
He takes another moment.
"We should at least explore this area in more detail. Even if we don't find the druids we may need to find a fall back point. This settlement may be to great a target no matter the defenses. Having somewhere else, ideally a hidden location could be very helpful. Any thoughts?"
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Songan listens to the good Detective's story with interest, digesting everything that she said. "If these truly are druids, I am...confused. There goal cannot be to simply destroy us. If they are as accomplished as it seems, they could be rid of us with ease. They have to have some other purpose in keeping us alive and in immediately targeting the colonial leadership."
"Regardless, I do not know how helpful a hidden location would be. There are still nearly 100 colonists, the eight of us, and a number of sailors. It would be very difficult to find a place they could be undetected. We could try, I suppose, but they may not be undetected for long. However, I do agree we should explore the area with greater scrutiny. There must be something that will help us know where to go from here. Whatever we do, we must act soon, else our enemies will continue harassing us at their leisure."
Orin confirms Catila's assertion regarding Flamestrike.
Songan listens to the good Detective's story with interest, digesting everything that she said. "If these truly are druids, I am...confused. There goal cannot be to simply destroy us. If they are as accomplished as it seems, they could be rid of us with ease. They have to have some other purpose in keeping us alive and in immediately targeting the colonial leadership."
"They destroyed our means of escape and then abducted the most informed individual in the group, probably to find out if any more ships are coming. Seems like pretty standard battle tactics to me. For all we know there could be 1000 orcs, or goblins, or what have you, out there ready to attack at a moments notice, or this all could be the work of one reasonably powerful druid. The problem is we just don't know.
What's the most distressing is that within a days time, they were able to identify the mayor, isolate him and abduct him right from under our noses."
Catila nods along with Songan adding |Yes, as I said, it seems clear there is some other agenda here other than simply killing us all."
Then after Orin, her tone interested, curious and a little excited "Yes! You bring up a good point my dwarven friend! How did they identify the Mayor so quickly?" after a moment of thought, her hand on her chin as she gazes at the sky she looks back and the others and continues "I suppose while in bird from one of the druids could have been on or around the ship for some time, and could therefore have quite easily identified the mayor. This also would seem to indicate that they speak our language, although it would still have been possible to identify the man in charge of the expedition even without us sharing a language."
Still intending to be one of the ones to scout the surrounding area, and still waiting to hear if Orin and Daisy are willing to go with her, she begins checking through her things and making herself ready as he says "I suggest we scout the area, look for clues as to who may be behind this and/or what they want. The better informed we are, the better prepared we can be after all".
Mevakh pulls a half-dozen sailors to shore, one by one, letting the colonists care for them. His healing magic can binds cuts and mend broken bones, but does nothing to help with drowned victims. The salty brine clings to his skin after he returns for the final time, unable to find more people to save. Exhausted, he stands upon the shore and looks out to the small pieces fiery flotsam washing ashore. To no one but himself, he mourns for the sailors and the captain. "Honorable men, may you find a reward. I pledge to protect this colony with my life, following your example."
Slowly, as his strength returns to him, he straps on his armor over his wet clothes. Sand from the beach coats the inside and outside of the armor, but the discomfort doesn't bother Mevakh. He picks his shield and axe out of the sand and shakes them off, then trudges back to the colony. On his way back, one of the colonists let him know of the mayor's disappearance at the temple. He arrives at the temple in time to hear much of the discussion.
"Should we go out to investigate, the colonists will be undefended and further calamity may befall them. Our numbers are great enough that we can both fulfil our duty to protect the colonists and determine what happened to the mayor." His words are tinged with grief from seeing so much suffering and death and being unable to do anything about it.
Between the tender ministrations of Dr Krupt and the paladin's holy touch, the wounded sailors are stabilized and healed of the worst of their wounds. They're mobile now, and the rest of the wounds will simply require time.
Now that recovery of the living has ended, an effort is made to recover bodies and any easily accessible sunken tools. A plow and a few rake heads are found, but the rest is still in the sunken vessel and will require diving. As the sun sets, Sister Mara, the Abadarian nun, gathers the colonists and orders them back to the compound. Watches are set and the gates are sealed.
Once everyone is inside and accounted for, she approaches the group. "I know I have not spoken much with you. My name is Mara, and I will assume leadership of the colony until the Mayor is recovered. I understand the Mayor was to utilize you as consultants with a certain skill set. What do you propose to do now?" Mara is a middle aged woman, with hair set into a severe bun and a plain manner about her. She carries a heavy mace, wears a utilitarian breastplate and seems matter of fact about her new duties.
Dr. Krupt still wears a bloody apron and smells faintly of antiseptic.
Wonderful, thinks the good doctor, my chance at freedom, and with the first mishap another Abadarian is in charge...
"I do believe my companions spoke of a scouting mission. Leaving at first light and all that, I don't doubt."
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Songan steps forward, giving Sister Mara a respectful bow before speaking. "Sister Mara, we believe we have some idea of the kind of threat that is responsible for the sinking of our ship as well as for the disappearance of the Mayor. As such, I think I speak for the group when I say our plan is as follows:"
"Since there are eight of us, we feel that we are safe in splitting into two groups. One group will remain here with the colonists to protect them should further attackers emerge. The second group will search the surrounding area to see if any clues as to the location of the mayor or those who attacked us can be found. As for who will be in which group...the warriors should remain here to protect the colonists, while those of us who are of good eye and ear should scout out the area. Are we agreed?" he asks, turning his attention back to the others.
"If this is an acceptable plan, we should go ahead and decide now who will be in which group so the scouts can depart at first light."
In her eagerness to solve the mystery Catila had not kept good track of the time, and so was somewhat suprised as night began to descend. Yet she finds herself nodding, first in acknowledgement to the nun, and then once again in agreement with Songan "Nice to speak with you again Mara. I only wish it were under better circumstances. And yes, that is an excellent division of our group Songan. So it seems that Orin, Daisy, Songan and myself will scout for clues while you others remian behind to protect the colonists. Further, I believe I am correct in saying that the coming darkness will not affect us as quite as much as it would some of you others? If this is so, then I believe we can do some preliminary scouting now, while the trail should still be fresh"
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"If this division is satisfactory to the others, I am content with it. I believe doing some scouting now is a good idea. As long as there is moon or starlight to provide some form of illumination, I can see as well at night as I can in day. And I would not want to send you out without someone to watch your back, Detective."
"If you do not mind I would like to join the scouting group."
As discussion continues as to the division of labor between scouting and defense, a series of shouts and sounds of fear erupt from outside.
Leralt groans.
"Oh these guys are really starting to get on my nerves."
He heads outside to see what is going on.
Outside, other colonists have gathered and stare in fear at the sight they behold. Near the wall stands a thirty foot tall...thing. It resembles a jaguar that has been shaped into the form of a humanoid (much like a catfolk, but somehow more animalistic). It wears a loincloth made of woven skins that look human as well as a headdress made of giant burning feathers and bits of obsidian. Its eyes are made of green flame, which burn brightly as it surveys the crowd. It carries in its right hand a long wooden bar, studded with near man-sized chunks of jagged obsidian. In its left hand, perhaps most strange, it carries a tiny bird cage, inside of which sits the head of a dead gnome, its eyes and mouth stitched shut with leather. Yet it is from the dead gnome's head that speech emerges. The cat-fiend, for you know no other name for it, makes a deep breathing sound, but no other sounds.
"אתה הסגת גבול על הארץ הזאת, פולשים. אתה לא נעלב את רוחם של הארץ, של השמים, של הים. נוכחותך מזהמת את המקום הזה. Tezcatlipoca לא מרוצה. ראשית אתה בא אל הארץ הזאת עם גברים רבים, אשר נתנו לאלים. עכשיו אתה מביא יותר, אנו נותנים לאלים. להתפלל לרחמים, אבל אף אחד עוד יגיע."
The language does not resemble any you are familiar with. The gnome stops and the jaguar fiend seems to be awaiting a response.
Leralt studies everything about the being.
Knowledge (Arcana)
Knowledge (History)
Knowledge (Nature)
Knowledge (Planes)
Linguistics
Spellcraft
"I do not think the mayor is dead Daisy, at least not yet..."
Daisy appreciated Catila's words but didn't share her optimism. In her imagination she saw the mayor being dragged into the suffocating darkness of the hole and the picture made her shudder. She'd been called on before to venture below ground but she never was comfortable doing so. She was always acutely aware of the weight of the rock and soil pressing down above her and, no matter how large the cavern, she felt trapped. Give me the forest anytime. I don't know how the Dwarves do it. The prospect of being dragged into a tunnel of collapsing earth made her feel queasy again.
The others were discussing what might have happened when Castila suggested scouting the area. Yes, that's what she needed to get out and do something instead of standing about dwelling on what had happened.
Mevakh came in looking weary and discourged and when he spoke she could hear the pain in voice. She took his hand and just held it.
"So it seems that Orin, Daisy, Songan and myself will scout for clues while you others remian behind to protect the colonists."
Without looking up, she murmured, "Well then, duty calls."
She was slipping on her pack when she heard cries of fright from outside. Drawing her sword, she rushed outside and stared at the fearsome being.
Mevakh strides forward, his voice booming at the foul creature. "You will not take these people! We do not fear you!" The half-orc stands an impressive height for a man, but is dwarfed by the beast. Still, he is unafraid. He fears neither death nor this emissary. His fearless retort, filled with conviction rather than bluster, bolsters his allies and the colonists.
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Hearing the colonists' shouts, Songan rushes outside , his eyes widening at the sight of the huge jaguar-thing, somehow resembling himself, though more...primal. He draws in a deep breath, looking to the others. "This thing, whatever it may be, has attempted communication. To refuse reply would only court disaster. How shall we answer?"
The jaguar simply stares at all of you, seemingly oblivious to your resistance. The crowd, however, notices Mevakh's bravery and seems to calm slightly, apparently emboldened by your appearance.
Language-wise, you sense a similarity in the tongue to Sylvan, the language of the fey, though you are unable to translate it. However in the inflection you recognize the name Tezcatlipoca. Searching your memory you recognize the name from an account of a Pathfinder in a dusty volume in your master's library. He dismissed the book as hokum, but the tale was of a Pathfinder who emerged from the Darklands to discover a land of gold and blood, where the natives worshiped a terrible god called Tezcatlipoca, who demanded blood and fire daily.
"This thing, whatever it may be, has attempted communication. To refuse reply would only court disaster. How shall we answer?"
"'Bite me on my lily-white arse' would be my suggestion," she murmured in reply before putting away her sword and drawing her bow. With a practiced hand she readied an arrow, aiming at the abomination that the beast was speaking through, but held her shot; she was waiting for a cue from the others.
Leralt gives a cold smile. He whispers what he has learned into his more level headed comrades. Adding to Mevakh the need not to tip their hand just yet.
"So now we know its a fake, what do we do. Also could it be another trick to keep us looking one way while it does something else the other way. We should make sure everyone and everything is accounted for. I think we may be dealing with dark fey."
These tricks were starting to show a pattern. They played on people's expected reactions and nature.
"We do not fear you!"
"Speak for yourself..." mutters Krupt. Hearing nothing but gibberish being uttered, the doctor quickly pulls a few things out of his satchels and creates an emulsion which he downs in a single gulp. Then, steeling his nerve, he steps forward from the group to try and get the attention of the thing, pantomiming by putting his hands up to his ears, then a beckoning gesture to the creature. "I don't think anyone caught that. Perhaps you can give us your proclamation of doom one more time."
The creature repeats itself, once again waiting for an answer.
1) Orin is more than happy to do any scouting.
2) He accepts Sister Mara's self appointment, but suggests that she might want to keep a low profile, lest she be taken next.
3) On Leralt's revelation that the thing is an illusion:
"We could attack it, if nothing else it will help with morale, or I could send out Grimfang to try to find the source of the illusion, or I could call out to it in the secret language of the druids and call its bluff."
"It says, and this is a direct quotation, mind you: 'You trespass upon this land, intruders. You have offended the spirits of the land, of the sky, of the sea. Your presence pollutes this place. Tezcatlipoca is displeased. First you comes to this land with many men, whom we have given to the gods. Now you bring more, which we will give to the gods. Pray for mercy, but none will come.' Not exactly a hopeful theme. If any of you feel it necessary to respond with righteous Abadarian fury, I'll understand."
"I'm afraid I'm able to understand but not converse. If anyone has an apt reply, I suggest proffering it in as many languages as you can, starting with ones that nature-worshippers are inclined to know, until we're certain the reply is understood."
The dead gnome speaks again in its strange tongue: "אני יכול להבין את לשון השטן שלך. אני שומע את התוכניות שלך ועלילות. זה לא משנה. Tezcatlipoca יטענו לך. לבבכם תינתן מי מכרסם. הדם שלך יהיה לאגד את הפתח. נפשותיכם יבקש מנוחה לא תמצא אותו. ליפול לעבוד Tezcatlipoca והסבל שלך יהיה קצר."
Still the statue stares out at the crowd, as if sizing them up. There is no fear, no threat save that of its words. It is as if it regards you as mere annoyances.
Daisy still held her bow on the creature though she now knew it to be an illusion. "If it's magic, how close can its controller be? I'll take Orin's offer and seek out the caster with Grimfang."
Leralt thinks for a moment.
"The spellcaster is at least as powerful as myself, they may be more so. The spells range should be fairly close due to the combination, a good radius would be 50 ft. centered from the illusion. I can speak the language of fey. I may be able to keep it talking if I can understand it. Also it may well be invisible, that ability is common among fey."
As long as he kept it talking the spell would force it's caster to stay close or lose the ability to speak thru its illusion.
Lena bows to Sister Mara "We will do all we can to assist you and the colony"
As far as scouting goes, Lena is stealthy enough and has a sharp eye but if warriors are required to guard the town she will stay behind. Before the scout party leaves however, Lena will hand Daisy her Footprint Book
"It was compiled by one of the best trackers in Absalom, it might help you identify any strange tracks you find out there"
When the cries from outside filter in to the town, Lena rushes outside and unlimbers her crossbow. Seeing the huge Jaguar-thing towering over her, Lena's first instinct was to turn and run but Mevakh's bold resilience stayed her feet. She stood next to the big Paladin and whispered "I am with you, Brother".
Krupt dutifully translates the thing's speech word for word. Then he leans toward Leralt and mutters "Mad'k kaa yv yd ror 'rjankdorj dryk 'jarym dyrk'a,' ar?" A slight smile touches his lips.
Leralt speaks back to Gellius.
I dare say sense it appears to be a spellcaster that it is using the same spell you are. Regardless of the language it will likely understand. Yet considering it knows of our "plots" you think it would know that its been seen thru and its trick does not impress us. A bit sad really.
"Yn yd kyzkmi 'rjankdorjk dra Ryzzyr dyrk'a kanvardmi 'amm orj yk kkaogyrk kyzadryrk amka dy ryrv'ka orj vnykrdar 'k. Kanrokk yd yk dyza dy romm ydk cm'vv. Yv Orin orj ryk 'ymv ror kryvv y'd y'n dnyrgkdan 'a kry'mj k'kr o ryrvnyrdodyyr, kyrra jykmyzori kaazk kyyrdmakk," Krupt says as he fingers the hilt of a slender, slightly curved knife in the pocket of his apron.
Knowing of the plan by the others, Mevakh offers himself as an impediment for the false giant, and by extension its creator, to focus upon. "Hear me, worshiper of a false god! You shall not claim these people as sacrifice, nor my allies, nor ME." With the last word, he clangs his axe against his shield. For a moment, his orcish heritage has never seemed more apparent. He holds his shield and axe at the ready, an obvious challenge and invitation.
Smiling as agreements are made about the scouting party and eager to be off, Catila is already at the door when the shouting begins. Rushing outside with the others, her short legs make her one of the last to arrive.
As she sees the demonic monstrosity before she stops in shocked surprise, not expecting anything of the sort, she also shivers a shudder of revulsion at the site of the Gnome head. But her gaze almost instantly turns to one of intrigued speculation, as she goes through many of the same actions and mental acrobatics as Leralt, coming to many of the same conclusions.
Whispering back to her companions she says "Do any of you possess any magics which might permit us to converse more circumspectly? And Mevakh, I have heard those with your training can detect the emanations of evil beings, perhaps that might aid us in locating our foe? I think though that our best chance is indeed with Grimfang, and I have a spell which will make him invisible to the sight for several seconds, hopefully enough time to track our enemy down. In the meantime let's keep our foe occupied & distracted."
Turning to face the beast, her face a mask of fear and trepidation, she calls out "Oh great spirit! Please do not punish us for the brave yet foolish words of some of our warriors, for they do not understand the full scope of your awful power and terrible wrath! Please, I beg you, tell us of what you would have us do to stem the tide of your all-consuming fury?"
While she speaks in sing song, the detective also casts a simple cantrip that makes her eyesight and other senses sharper, and she looks around carefully, trying to see anything which seems out of place.
Bluff:
Diplomacy:
Perception:
Actions:
Casts 'Sign of Discovery' cantrip
MAYBE casts Vanish
Leralt whispers to Catila before she heads towards the being.
"I can cast a simple spell that allows whispered words to be heard and received from a distance of 130 ft. apart."
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Songan backs away from the jaguar-thing slowly, until he is in whispering range of the others, before he offers his own view. "Leralt, which of the fey are able to cast illusions? I do not recall the answer myself. Regardless, I will remain here...I will surely be seen slipping off if I were to abandon you now for the search."
Regarding their current foe, he draws his shortbow, nocking an arrow on the bowstring and pulling it taut, though he keeps the weapon pointed toward the ground, ready to raise it at a moment's notice, before he speaks, waiting for Dr. Eyesquint to finish, figuring that anything that can be done to keep it talking will aid their plan. "Please, tell us how we have so offended you? We wish no harm to any of the peoples that call this place home! We have only come to try and find a new home for ourselves!"
He thinks for a moment on the catfolk's question.
"Most fey have natural magical abilities, they also tend to have a talent for sorcererous magic. My best guess should it be a fey, would be a nymph. But it could just as easily be another fey or even just something with connections to the fey."
Catila indeed wants the message cantrip cast and nods in appreciation. Her choice for the third is Orin, who will hopefully in touch with Grimfang should the wolf be sent to search.
At Songan's question the small Gnome cocks an eyebrow whispering with a smile smile "You mean other than me?"
Try as Lena might, she can fathom no memory that reveals anything of use about the figure or its grisly oracle.
While Gellius and Leralt confer, Mevahk issues his challenge. The thing does not respond; it merely stands, and watches, at least until Songan addresses it.
"אתה לא הוזמנו. אתה לא ביקש רשות. אתה פלשו הארץ הזאת ולכרות עצים שלה והרג החיות שלה לאוכל. אתה התעורר מי מכרסם ועכשיו כלאו יש לחזק בדמם של הפולשים. ראו הוזהרתם: המוות יבוא לך בקרוב."
With this pronunciation, the thing vanishes, the ground at its feet appearing to turn to smoking water, which it slips into and is gone.
With a gruff grunt, Mevakh looks in all directions for the creature - or illusion, as it were - when it disappears, but sees nothing. He maintains his hold of the shield, still unsure if they will find themselves under attack again. He straps his axe back to his back and turns back to the colonists.
He attempts to settle their nerves with a few words of comfort. "Friends, we will not die here. I am not afraid of whatever is out there." While his words are the truth, they are of limited value to the colonists who have seen their ship destroyed and their mayor taken in the previous few moments, while living amongst the ruins of their disappeared predecessors.
"Well that was a lot of bark and no bite. We'd best see about getting the colonists settled and a perimeter set up before we try to get to the bottom of this. Last thing we need to do is go mucking about the forest only to come back to find more people missing."
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The things response leaves Songan a little befuddled. Obviously they thought the island was uninhabited, else this little excursion would never have happened. His eyes go wide, though, as the illusion fades, his vision trained on the wall behind where the entity stood. He quickly turns to the others, calling them all over to whisper quietly what he had just seen.
"I saw...someone. Whoever cast the illusion, probably. It was humanoid. Small, pale. About twenty feet behind where the illusion was, just at the base of the wall." he tells the group, gesturing at the spot he saw the entity with a nod of his head.
When Songan mentions seeing someone Catila says with urgency "Then quickly! Orin! Grimfang! Those who can track! Follow me!" And without further ado, the emotional Gnome dashes excitedly out on the hunt.
Catila shoots forward to find the interloper Songan saw, when suddenly time seems to stop. A gnome, with bright green hair and eyes to match, wearing a simple kilt of animal skins and nothing else, stands in front of you. His hand is on your arm and he holds a hand up as if to forestall the questions he knows will come. You note that all around you both is forest and jungle, as if no buildings have ever been erected here. He speaks in a fluid and lilting Sylvan, quickly and low. "Peace, sister. You must not rush or you will bring its wrath down upon us. It seeks to feed and it knows this land better than we. The First World is closed to us now, so we must deal with here and now. Hold fast and the beast shall not win. Hark! I hear it coming!" He releases your arm and disappears as the world thunders back to normal. You're still running forward and no time has passed. In fact, it feels remarkably like a dream to you.
Orin follows Catila, bringing Grimfang along.
"What did you see??"
"Well, looks like I'll stay here and mind the fort. Have fun chasing the giant jaguar-man."
Mere moments after taking off Catila stops as if she'd hit a wall. A slightly stunned and curious expression on her she says quietly "Well, that was interesting. I believe I just had a...vision? Or otherwordly visit of some kind. I just saw a Gnome, dressed in tribal fashion, who said to me, and I quote 'Peace, sister. You must not rush or you will bring its wrath down upon us. It seeks to feed and it knows this land better than we. The First World is closed to us now, so we must deal with here and now. Hold fast and the beast shall not win. Hark! I hear it coming!' before he disappeared and I found myself here again." looking around at all her companions she asks almost rhetorically "I take it none of you saw any of that?"