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The wolf-in-sheep's-clothing's hide appears to be too tough for Darius's blade, which rips against it and is unable to deliver the spell.
Luckily, the lion and the wolf fare better in their attempts to damage the strange creature, whose tentacles now wiggle in pain and desperation!
It retaliates by lashing at Kirrah, which caused the most damage to it.
Initiative - round 2 - bold may act
1. Julian, Jarlgur, Ace, Osric, Darius, Fendahl
2. Wolf-in-sheep's-clothing
Grimtooth presses the attack!
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Darius delivers the finishing blow! The wiggling tentacles become limp and fall to the ground. The gnome also doesn't move anymore, and a closer inspection reveals that the wolf-in-sheep's clothing used it as a puppet of sorts...
Searching the area proves very lucrative. The tentacled creature had settled over a stone trapdoor that leads to a hidden storage area. Inside lies a large supply of cold iron, about 440 lbs of ingots. There are also six flasks of deepsheen, a paste that looks like silversheen but grants the properties of cold iron to a weapon instead of silver.
The path leads out of Kethalia and into Tanglebriar and its vicissitudes again.
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Osric heals Grim.
"Well, at least the abomination was destroyed. That one won't be trapping any more unwary travelers."
-Posted with Wayfinder
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"I finish my duties, not whine and leave because of a few insect bites.. Do you need to be carried? We can make a little stretcher or something if you need it." He says with a sarcastic tone. He then pulls a potion from his pack and tosses it to Ace.. "Drink that.. It should help your tummy ache.." He also pulls a pair of vials from his pack and hands them to him. "These should help for the future."
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Woah, insect bites can leave scars and this... Ace gestures to his face. is the money-maker. A little palanquin does sound nice... I must insist that you carry me on it however. Ace states after Darius suggests it.
Darius likely rolls his eyes and taps Ace with his wand, healing most of the Strength damage.
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A clearing meant for mystical rites interrupts the ongoing riot of disfigured flora and fauna. Under the shadow of a mighty oak, eleven large stones engraved with runes form a circle around untainted grass. One stone is far larger than the rest. The green blades are young and weak, but nonetheless natural. Suddenly, a sharp and witty voice can be heard among the trees, confounded with the strangely untainted vegetation that surrounds you.
"Have you heard the one about what would happen if you despoil Tanglebriar’s only unmolested grass? It would leave you in stitches!"
Chuckling heartily, the voice turns into a face that slowly emerges from a nearby tree.
"I'm Vinst, entertainer to the court of tainted trees, seducer of succubi who lived to tell the tale, and grand preserver of this grove. Who are you, travelers, and are you really as stern as you look? Please, don't bore me with mundane words... sing it!"
Ace chuckles, glad to have someone of a similar mind around. Stern is putting it lightly. Most of these fellows are quite jovial with the proper social lubricant, but this guy... Ace rolls his eyes at Darius. He's always like that...
Ace whispers to the woodsman.
Ace leans back. If a song is what you desire, then you have found the right person.
Ace strums his guitar before summoning a satin red curtain in the air, obscuring the party from the fellow musician.
Ace belts out a loud chord as the curtain slowly opens, revealing Ace in full gear including black and white face paint. As soon as the curtain opens, it slowly shimmers away.
Ace belts out his most famous solo.
He deviates from the normal lyrics by showcasing the glory of the Flesh Puppets and briefly mentioning the Pathfinders.
He ends his performance by disappearing into thin air as the music stops abruptly.
He appears at the foot of the beastman jamming out the finale, ala Marty McFly at the Enchantment Under the Sea dance.
The Pathfinders look a bit odd at Ace. I guess you guys aren't ready for that yet. But your kids are gonna love it.
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Fendahl recognizes Vinst as a fey known as a satyr. Most of these are famous for their raunchy jokes and light-headed flirting.
Ace's enchanting performance echoes through the trees, meeting a sound success. "Bravo! Encore! A most famous performance, that won't leave a nymph insensitive, I can tell you. You're one to keep their sieve flowing, aren't you? Even Brouce appreciates it, though he's a tough critique at most times."
At the satyr's words, a huge bear springs forth from the tree and sits on the grass, observing you with the keenest curiosity.
"So you're archaeologists, eh? What are you doing here. You're surely not there for the lush lands or the fantastic view. Unless you've come for the succubi?"
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"Most boring elves indeed! They never stop by old Vinst and share tales. Grim faces, though they are about to see what dust to dust means!" The satyr chuckles with a somber tone, much unlike the light-headed tone that he was using until not so long ago.
"They are further, and if you have the courtesy of entertaining me a while longer, I will show you the way to them... provided they don't already serve as fertilizer for the gnarled thorns of Tanglebriar!"
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"I would love that, traveler. Let us drink!"
After much revelling and drinking, Vinst has regained a much lighter mood than previously.
"A duel! Let us spar with flutes, you and I! If you win, I'll let you be on your way with my blessing. If you lose, you drink till you drop!"
The satyr starts, playing a melodious tune on his flute, then it changes to entrancing, yet darker in tones.
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Ace listens to the satyr's melody, smiling widely from both finding a fellow musician and, more likely, the wine. Ace throws up his hands. I don't know... I dabble. I dabble.
After some prodding, Ace slides his flute out his sleeve and begins to play some soft, slow jam music. This is baby-making music. Belting out vibrant beats on the flute while slamming his foot on the ground in tempo, Ace begins to pick up the melody moving it faster.
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"Well done Master Ace. Well done to both of you. Sounds like Ace was slightly better, so Master Vinst if you will just provide us the information on the elves, we will leave you to enjoy your afternoon.
Fendahl admittedly may have a slight bias on which sounded better, and he wants to keep moving, still not wanting to tarry here.
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When the last note escapes Ace's flute, there is a silence full of uncertainty. Then Vinst laughs heartily, and claps to applaud the rock star. "Well played, my friend! Let's have a last toast to that, and then I'll let you be on your way."
Vinst is very helpful indeed, for he gives you ways and shortcuts to Fihralaz's lair, cutting through groves and avoiding large concentrations of demons. He also share rumors he has heard about the hezrou’s lair, such as its swampy nature and the prevalence of leeches.
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Well fought, Vinst! We'll have to work out a contract to get you in on some gigs if you'll come to Absalom. Ace says with a wink.
Either way, we appreciate the aid to get out of this place as soon as possible... The air just doesn't seem to agree with me. Ace bemoans.
The jungle's poisons and filth slowly drains Ace down to a husk over the next two hours. By the end of the trek, he collapses on the ground. His ratling familiar, Hanspur, tumbles out of his pack, unconscious as well.