And with two more stab Urbar takes out the grappled man.
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As Urbar lifts his head and looks around he looks disappointed.
"This all? After those nightmare creatures from before these guys are... i don't even have words for it."
He spits on the deck and starts stripping the men, the captain after he binds him with some rope.
"Now shall we wake him so it spares us the search?"
Urbar kicks the captain hard in the ribs and follows by lifting him to look him in the eyes. He growls the following words in his face.
"Tell us now."
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"Have fun you two. and I mean that in the most suggestive of ways. Imma go ahead and have a chat with the captain."
The elf slid up to the captain's location a soft smile washing over his face as he placed a hand on the bound man's shoulder.
"So. Your dancing needs work. Do we need to continue to play the game or can we just talk?"
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Before he is woken up Tereze grabs any visible weapons off of the Pirate Captain and tosses them out of reach.
Then she stands back up and checks on the two other pirates to see if either of them can be stabilized.
As she does so she looks at Locke and says: Better zey go to Prison for any of zere crimes and we risk zem going free, zen we kill an innocent who was just in ze wrong place. Life is far too valuable to just zrow it away.
Du Moire's unaffected by Fiona's charm hex, but decides to talk anyway. "Your tablets are stored below decks, in the cargo hold."
You find the following on Du Moire: oil of invisibility, potion of cure light wounds (2), chain shirt, masterwork longsword, dagger, signet ring, and a tarnished, nondescript bronze key.
There's nothing else of interest on the deck, and so you head below decks.
Below decks, the dimly-lit hold has taken on a foot of brackish bilge water, and clammy air laps against your skin. The sole light emanates from a small whale-oil lamp mounted on the lower mast. The cavernous hollow contains dozens of water-damaged crates roped in neat stacks secured tightly to the sidewalls. The remaining portion of the hold is set up like a common room with hammocks, an open larder, and a small kitchen where food is prepared. The accommodations appear radically stripped down, presumably to make room for contraband or increased speed. Toward the bow, loud banging echoes from a wooden door, sodden and swelled shut and held fast with thick black chains.
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Slightly surprised of Du Moire talking without the need of full force, Locke casually follows the others down.
Upon hearing the slamming on the door, combined with the sight of chains;
"No yelling of setting one free, however, lest it be a mute.
He might have locked up some exotic beast for profit? Then again, even a beast would make vocal sounds accompanying the slamming."
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Gwen looks at the door with interest when the slam sound begins. She looks over at Locke with a smile. "Let's go ask him." Without another word, she turns around and heads back above deck to confront the pirate about what my be inside the hold.
"What do you have locked up inside the hold? You know, the one lashed shut with chains?"
At first Du Moire looks reluctant to reply, but due to his tied up state he decides to just answer.
"I put slaves in there a while ago... but I think they've drowned by now..."
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having decided to lollygag down after the group, as watching the pirate became tedious, The elf slid by Vicard down the stairs whilst the former sleuth went up. Giving a nod and thinking nothing of it, Ery meandered to the chained door, curiously considering the possibility of there being a tea monster behind the door.
"I have a theory."
He spoke up, turning to the rest, his back against the chained door...
"I think...due to the water... What ever creature that is still lingers has turned into a a tea aberration!"
Ery placed his knuckles to his hips in triumph of his conclusion.
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Tweeze makes her way down into the hold and stands quietly in the back as the group threatenes Du Moire. Although she does not object to the treatment she also does not raise a hand to stop it.
This on at least if he is killed , I know we will be saving other lives
She quietly plays with her morningstar watching Vicard struggle for a bit. After a time she grows bored and starts to look around to see if anything is hidden in the common room or hold.
But her attention is quickly drawn back to the rattling door.
The door opens and three undead immediately jump at Du Moire, who yells at the top of his lungs as his flesh is torn of his helpless body. Before you can even act, Du Moire stops shouting. His lifeless, torn body lies unmoving on the floor in front of you.
Round 1:
Blue
Green
Red
Eryzule
Fiona
Gwendallyn
Locke
Tereze
Urbar
Vicard
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Gwen gasps as the zombies break loose of their prison and immediately set upon Du Moire. His screams drown out her remorseful mutterings... "I thought he would have warned us..." She flinches back from Locke's explosion and follows her companions' attacks with a kick of her own directed at the nearest undead!
Locke lobs a bomb at red and blasts the undead into many tiny bits.
Urbar tries to slice the enemy in front of him in many tiny ribbons. His first attack almost takes out the undead. His other sword hits the ceiling when he swings it overhead.
With his initial target gone, Eryzule aims at the only undead he has a clear view on: the one in front of Urbar. Due to Urbar being in melee with the undead, Eryzule has a hard time aiming and misses.
Vicard raises his morningstar and bashes the head of the nearest undead in, thus dropping it.
Fiona reaches for Gwendallyn's back and gives her some magical protection.
Gwendallyn steps forward and attacks the remaining undead, but her kick hits the door frame instead.
Round 1:
Blue
Eryzule
Fiona
Gwendallyn
Locke
Tereze
Urbar
Vicard
Tereze has to swings her weapon around the door frame, but still manages to whack the undead with her morningstar.
The undead tries to bite Gwendallyn and swings its claws at her, but it's far to slow to even touch the swift brawler.
Round 2:
Blue -7HP
Eryzule
Fiona
Gwendallyn
Locke
Tereze
Urbar
Vicard
Locke drinks an extract, using a straw to prevent anyone from seeing his face.
Gwendallyn attacks the remaining undead twice, but misses with both of her attacks.
Eryzule sends a ray at the undead, but hits the door frame again.
Tereze takes a swing at the undead, hits it, and steps away.
Round 2:
Blue -12HP
Eryzule
Fiona
Gwendallyn
Locke
Tereze
Urbar
Vicard
Urbar steps in and hits the door frame with his first attack. He tries again and decapitates the undead from a funny angle.
Along with the ghoulish passengers, the hold contains a small padlocked chest of wood and hardened leather. Inside, wrapped in moldering velvet, rest four tablets each crafted from a different material— copper, gold, lead, and black slate. The crudely fashioned tablets are incredibly ancient forgeries of the original tablets marking the royal seals of four of the Old Azlant’s noble houses. Regardless of their non-authenticity, their uncanny detail provides great insight into lost languages and historical data associated with the four houses.
By defeating the Hydra’s Fang and providing positive evidence of Du Moire’s defeat, you receive the rewards and blessings of the Chelish and Andoren embassies for saving their home countries from entering into what was sure to be a bloody war. Regardless of their public display, the two countries remain at brutal odds. Not that any such politicking matters much to the Pathfinder Society, which is simply pleased that you succeed in getting the tablets.
"One of our number has fallen." Venture-Captain Adril Hestram lets the grave words hang in the air before continuing. It's difficult to imagine a large man like Adril defeated, but in light of this grim news his shoulders slump; he is a man who suffered a loss.
"Targos Min-Katheer, esteemed venture-captain, is dead. His last wishes are simple: he wants his mortal remains to take one last trip along the Silken Way to his home city of Katheer, there to rest with his ancestors. He was one of our finest and we aim to honor his request. It is for this reason I’ve called you all together."
Adril points one sausage-thick finger at the map on the table, tracing a line from Absalom to the mouth of the Pashman River, then snaking up the river to the oasis city of Lopul. "Here is where you can gather up his remains and join the silken caravan, one of the only caravans daring the harsh journey across the desert from Lopul to Katheer. This mission is simple, joyride really, but we insist you give it the attention it deserves. A few weeks in the sun, seeing the sights of the desert. A dream assignment."
Adril has a way of making every assignment sound like a sweet deal, but the last few weeks traveling by boat up the Pashman River and then hiking the short distance to the oasis city have been grueling to the extreme. A poisonous river snake claimed one of your guides; you remember his last gasps well, and how his face bloated to twice its usual size within seconds of the bite.
Before you now lies Lopul, the great caravan city, erected around the crystal life-giving waters of the Pool of Sihbon, the largest oasis for over one hundred miles. Mud brick houses baking in the sun and great canvas tents crowd the central copse of palm and date trees.
Lopul is a caravan-city ruled by the Sheikh Samraf Al-Hadari, humble servant to the padishah emperor of Kelesh. The settlement's population fluctuates wildly with the comings and goings of trade caravans, but usually has at least a thousand locals and travelers in residence at any one time. Most of the city is comprised of tents and temporary dwellings erected by merchants and caravan masters, with only about a quarter of the city's structures being permanently built around the Pool of Sihbon itself. Among these permanent structures are a half-dozen caravanserai, the fortress of the sheikh, and twoscore domed dwellings constructed of mud brick. One such dwelling is the former residence of Targos Min-Katheer. All that remains is to collect his body and join the silken caravan.
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After the whole two weeks of sun and fun...
"Well, Glad that's over. Thank the gods for tea and sunlight and heat. Oh, and your all welcome for not smelling like grime and rot. Magic is wonderful, is it not?"
The elf stretched, gathering his tea stuff and hoisted the ceremonial set over his shoulder to latch it down. Using his bow as a walking stick, the elf made his way into the large caravan-ridden shanty in hopes to find a book stand of sorts.
"Ah, one second. I gotta check for something while we're here."
Not seeing much of what he wanted, He then decided to use suave instead... Shouting into the potential mass of sellers.
"Anyone know where a fool could find a knowledge repository? Perhaps a caravan of books? Sand script? Anything with words on it in which I may purchase?
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After the past few missions, Gwen was looking forward to a cakewalk mission; fun in the sun, experiencing a part of the world she had never seen, a dream assignment... When she got back to Absalom, Gwen was going to punch Venture-Captain Adril between the legs... She squints against the glaring light of the sun reflecting off the sands as they finally reach their destination of Lopul and absently wipes away the rivulets of sweat streaming down her cheeks.
She looks after Ery while he searches about for these books he was chattering about nonstop during their journey; however, she couldn't be too angry with the elf. His cantrip kept them all from smelling like that horrible sewer they once had the joy of exploring while helping a madman. She shakes her head at the things that she has done for the Society and, not for the first time in weeks, wonders why she had ever decided to join them in the first place. Oh yeah, to get away from that tiny isolated island of Trunau.
She glances back over her shoulder to Tereze and Fiona with a smile. At least she had her two friends with her. The three of them had become quite close over the past few weeks of extremely close contact. That's not to say they had not bickered a time or two, but such was life. Gwen felt that Tereze was especially incensed with her over the fate of the pirate, Du Moire. But how was Gwen supposed to know there was actually undead in the cargo hold?! Sure she had threatened to let whatever was in there to eat him, but... it was supposed to be a threat to weaken his will and tell them what truly lay behind the door.
She suddenly winces at Ery's shouting and hisses at him from behind her veil. "Ery! Perhaps you could learn the concept of tact!"
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Gwen stinks at Ery, giving him one of her cheeky grins. "Wouldn't you like to you know." His constant attempts at getting her behind closed doors had wanted for a time and allowed her to relax her aggressive stance toward Ery. Urbar was Urbar... Gwen still was not quite sure what to make of the ranger... And Locke was... An enigma that tickled Gwen's fancy and ideal curiosity; despite half-hearted jokes at pinning him or her down and taking it off by force, Gwen never pushed the issue. Everyone had their secrets and Locke would reveal them when Locke was ready.
She then turns and grins at Fiona's suggestion. "That sounds like a fantastic idea, Fi! Soaking in some cool, clean water sounds amazing right about now. Gods only know when we will be able to do that again once the caravan starts rolling..."
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Prior to the departure some time ago, Locke had written a letter, addressed to Liberty's Edge 'head honcho'. Locke's mask had cracks, most likely an experimental bomb gone awry.
To Major Colson Maldris,
It is an interesting group, you've sentenced sent me to.
They are an example of what would happen if Liberty's Edge's goals were personified. Freedom in speech, rowdy and healthy suspicion.
The latter, i will add, came in no surprise. That matters not, it'll turn out fine in the long run.
I know i've still to serve a long time before you consider a debt paid....for accidentally blowing up your summer house's balcony....and your doggy. It came out of nowhere, i swear for the 25th time.
Yet...was this most recent acquisition my masquerade really mandatory, was the shopkeeper out of the plain model i've become accustomed to?
I'm not into high class fashion.
:/
Sincerely,
Firebug.
Nowadays, Locke wore a, by Locke's words, 'temporary until they get me a new one. Taken from the collection of some festival committee.'.
This mask was more refined from the plain featureless mask worn earlier.
Ivory white with yellow adornments.
What happened to the other one, Ery knows all too well.
One morning, the plain mask was lying seperate from Locke's head. Ery, too curious as, 'if you're a woman i win', picked it up.
Turning to check for features within, he found a little scribble that said.
"Boom,
Love,
Locke" :3
A small engineered powder charge triggered a small cloud of smoke into his face, resulting in him looking very rosey colored in the face.
"Hehehe....", a collection of voices produced, as Locke sat a mere 15 feet away. But...was one type of voice just then louder than the others? Maybe it was his imagination.
With arms crossed, Locke waved a finger in a playful manner left to right and back.
"Early bird, ser Ery, early bird."
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Gwen's attempts at the new mask caused Locke to be wary...only to be relieved and hence repeated. She might do it one day?
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[Slight chuckle]
"Maybe the magical cleansings are getting too personal?"
Locke had bought some mundane items to wash in private.
I'll not name them all, but they'll come on the sheet.
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After all the events on the Hydra's Fang, Tereze is strangely silent for much of the trip back to Absalom. She responds as required to other's inquiries but does not participate in the usual banter. Instead she spends much of the voyage staring out over the sea, seeming to be far away.
In contrast to her outward appearance her mind is a whirl of confusion.
It seemed right at the time, but was it truly the right course? Civilization requires that we each surrender the ability to use force to the state, and follow the basic laws embedded in each of our hearts. Yet, for a second time I am responsible for the loss of one of the Gods' miracles. That doing so most likely saved pain and suffering to others, is that really an justification? I have been punished for my first failing, is it not just that I should also be punished for my second?
That it was not by my hand, does that alleviate responsibility? I stood by when I could have prevented this, that makes it my fault does it not? I just don't know... Maybe I need to ask... On and on her thoughts run in circles.
As they sit in the Venture-Captain's briefing, She seems to perk up, but again remains quiet.
Maybe the death rituals of another land hold the keys to my quest? Could it be that by honoring this request, I can find the answers I seek? Could it be that the Gods have given me this mission at this time to answer my prayers? If that is the case, I must succeed in this trip no matter what.
The trip up the Pashman River seems to weigh heavily on her companions, but Tereze embraces the hardship as simply the physical manifestation of her trial that she justly deserves. She endures the trip with a quiet stoicism that the rest of you feel is out of place. Even the death of your guide while she tried in vain to save him was meet with a far quieter acceptance then most of you would normally expect.
Even as she arrives at the city of Lopul, she does not speak to the others of her troubled thoughts. It is enough that they are forced to endure my physical test with me, without me burdening them with my worries as well. An who knows, if they knew I was the cause of this trial, would they still want to associate themselves with me?
Her internal debate is only broken as Gwen and Fiona begin discussion of getting clean. With a serious expression Tereze looks over at her two women she realizes have become her friends. Gwen knows of my punishment and she still has not shunned me, perhaps spending time with them will be...
Zank you Fiona, I could use some time soaking to prepare myself for ze journey ahead.
She continues tentatively Might it also make sense for us to pick up a few supplies for ze trip as well? We are in a quite large market after all, and I could really use a cotton dress rather zen my heavy wool skirt. As she says this the first hint of a smile that you have seen in weeks comes on to her face.
As the three of them begin to walk away Tereze looks at Gwen:
Ze holder that you use to keep zat "stick" of yours seems very interesting. Do you zink you could help me find one?