Markus and Jillia both rush in towards the minotaur. Janira's body is disturbingly still where it lies, but the pool of blood beneath her seems to be drying up. The minotaur meanwhile lets out a mighty (not a "moo", despite Brob's assertions to the contrary).
Jillia's arrow grazes the minotaur's thigh. While the wound seeps blood, it just seems to make it angrier.
Once more, the minotaur is confused, but not in the right way... and Varus surprises himself by not falling in to the river (yet).
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Glancing at all the action that's happening at the other side of the river, Brob takes a deep breath and runs up to the river edge, trying to hop across.
Unable to both Inspire Courage and cast a spell at the same time, Brob opts to cast Grease on the minotaur's axe
Since you won't leave in peace
Let's see how you handle Grease
It's 'The Way' I'm told to make things hard to hold
I hope the rest the group draws near
'Cause things will soon hurt I fear
For our heroes, quite the beauties, brave and, bold
The minotaur notices its axe beginning to slip from its grasp. It grasps it again and again, but cannot fathom how to manage it without any friction. In a very awkward fashion, the massive greataxe clatters to the ground. A mighty snort escapes the creatures nostrils and it turns its angry gaze upon Brobdingnagian, freshly arrived from over the river.
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Boris begins to run, and attempt jump across the river! "Shelyn to be giving love dance to Boris stupid cow-man! Boris no fear minotor, Shelyn is giving the Love to Boris!"
Landing on the other side, he starts canting:
"Torden og stein , belysning gjennom bein!"
Boris charges up his weapon and hands, ready to deliver a magically charged attack upon the minotaur.
Armed with only its horns now, the minotaur lashes out with its horns against who it perceives to be the greatest threat: the armor-clad halfling calling out a challenge. Knowing it will need to be accurate to get past the metal shell, it doesn't go all out like it did against Janira.
Some kind of animal cunning within the minotaur tells it to back off a little.
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Jillia reels from the gore, the pain from the wound centralized for only the briefest of moments before it echoes throughout her body. Her head lolls a bit, and out of the corners of her eyes she noticed the rest of the group converging. Just like Chaldira, she thinks, her smile returning. Before she can think any further, Rin's speaking tongues nearby and Jillia's feeling significantly better.
When she starts speaking Taldane again, I'll have to thank her.
She over-dramatically stretches her neck, head-fakes the minotaur and tries to get in close without it getting a bead on her.
And once she's close enough, she thrusts her short sword towards the lumbering beast's ankles.
"It'll take more than that to knock me down." But not much more, she adds silently.
The minotaur grunts as Jillia's blade pierces its lower thigh. His clumsy horns cannot get close enough to return the favor - this time. The other Pathfinders rush in to provide aid, closing in on the massive beast as fast as their legs can carry them.
The minotaur twitches as the electricity courses through its veins. The smell of singed bull-hide is both foul and distinctive. In light of its new pain, it ignores Jillia and tries to skewer a northerner on its horns. This time, seeing the more lightly armored man - and a bigger target to boot - it goes all out, trying to drop him in one hit.
In its exuberance, the minotaur goes wide and its horns pass harmlessly inches beneath its target's face. Boris is left to wonder what could have happened had those sharp things entered his body with that much force behind them.
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Brob lets loose a shortbow shot of his own to try and distract the minotaur as he triumphantly, Inspiringly sings
"By my furry feet, this bull we'll soon defeat
And Confirm the faith the Masters have placed in all of us
We've shown our halfing fight, Sheyln's dance, Milani's might
Now let's carry on to victory with this chorus!"
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Markus plants his feet firmly on the ground and takes a moment to catch his breath. He points both hands downwards, and the dirt below him seems to dry up.
"Příroda vás prozrazuje, nepřirozené zvíře!" he calls, and a thin film of slippery sap emerges from the plants beneath the minotaur's feet.
Still breathing hard from his run, Markus then draws his morningstar in case the minotaur gets a bit too close.
Jillia cuts into the minotaur's thigh again, using the same placement as last time. Her blow cuts to the bone and the massive mythical creature howls in pain. Boris follows the minotaur's example and puts his all into a two-handed blow with his scimitar and hacks a chunk out of the thing's side. The wound gushes blood onto the forest floor. Half dead, the minotaur looks up to see an arrow streaking towards its left eye. The missile buries itself in ichor right up to the fletching.
Swaying, the minotaur seems uncertain about whether to die or not... then a quick spell from Markus helps it along. With a thunderous crash, the beast falls backwards and showers everyone with magically conjured butter. Seconds later, Varus rushes up to the scene.
The fighting seems to have driven all forest creatures from this place as silence reigns - briefly - in the moonlit forest clearing.
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"Who's taller now?" Jillia taunts as she climbs atop the Minotaur to finish it off. A quick slice of a short sword is followed by a skyward victory salute. "Didn't you know halflings are lucky?"
Janira wasn't so lucky.
Sudden realization is instantaneous, but Jillia's rush to get to the other halfling isn't much slower. A cursory examination finds that she's not bleeding at least. "Could use a little help, here," she calls out, as the battle high starts wearing off.
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"You defeated it?" asks Janira as soon as she is revived, "Wahoo! Well done Pathfinders. Thank you so much for coming to save me when you did. I would not have been able to hold out against that thing much longer. Phew. What a run! You will, of course, receive a glowing recommendation from me for bravery shown in the field - and for having the skills needed to pull off my rescue!"
When everyone is ready, Janira accompanies the Pathfinders back into the caves to allow them to fully map the system out. She stays back from the action, though, allowing the initiates to undertake their confirmation in their own way. Aside from a nasty run in with a gelatinous cube and some vicious little mites (and their pet giant centipede), the Pathfinders find nothing else of note. They stay in the caves, and - as promised - help Uori take his deceased fellows back to the sea for a proper funeral. The journey back to Absalom is a most pleasant one, and before sun-down the following day, the group is once again safe and warm within the confines of the grand lodge.
Kreighton Shaine summons them to his room, where they find the elven Master of Scrolls apparently conversing with a capuchin monkey, "... well, yes, I do understand how it must be frustrating that man of all the primates became the dominant species - but I am an elf and don't believe I have anything to apologize for.
"Ah, Pathfinders!" he calls, as he spies the group, "Please sit down. Gilligan here was just leaving..." the monkey blows a sour raspberry at Kreighton Shaine before hopping off, "... excitable little fellow and a good drinking buddy, but his political views are outrageous! Anyway, please, tell me, how did your expedition go? I want to hear all of your ideas, observations and don't spare the details on your notes!"
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"Minotaur get really angry when you stab them in the ankles. They're a lot like everything else, in that regard," Jillia happily states, unconsciously running a hand along the puncture in her armor. She hands the Master of Scrolls a poorly drawn sketch of herself standing victorious in front of a dead stick-figure minotaur, sword raised skyward.
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The minotaur slips to the ground with a crash, and Markus drops his morningstar, and drops to his knees breathing heavily. The run over the stream had cost him more energy than he thought, and it takes some time to steady himself.
Gozreh's beard, that was terrifying. Is this what Pathfindering is like?[/b] he muses. [i]I hope so, what a fantastic job this is!
The comforts of the Grand Lodge, sparse as they are, are a welcome reward. The summons from Master Shaine gives Markus pause, and he makes sure to collect his thoughts before making his report.
The journey to the was relatively uneventful. We encountered some wounded creatures being chased by a pair of wolves. I believe they were hippogriffs. We saw off the wolves, but left them alive to maintain the natural order.
Markus begins to make their report, and looks around at his colleagues for them to continue.
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Boris pants and stabs the minotaur twice for good measure. "Is dead now. How is Jani?" He looks about at his companions, a look of genuine worry plain on his face. "Is can to anyone heal? Is she dead?"
Boris takes abundant notes of any striking features, muttering to himself in a pidgin of Skald and Dwarven.
Boris tries to discreetly slip a small stack of papers onto the Master of Scrolls' desk. "Is all in here, Masterofscrollskreightonshane. The not-fishpeople that is low Azlanti come to cave because it to have pool of water that is the pure water. Big cave also used to be temple of Aroden who is maybe dead. It fading away like tide, but still have some of the power. Is old, have many old carvings, most be close to the original text before people make the translation mistake. Or copy mistake. Boris not make mistake and note all dimensions in report. Also in middle of pool of the pure water in the big cave is small small Absalom made in the rock. Possibly is old altar. If is all good, Boris to go and take the other Pathfinders of group before to die of old being."
"Fascinating!" exclaims Kreighton Shaine, "Thank you for such a wonderful report! Do you other three have anything to say on the matter? I would love to hear more about the carvings... which survived, and anything you can say about the more faded ones? I think we shall have to go there and see if we can't restore them. Aroden can be quite the bore on humanity, but he has left behind some wonderful mysteries."
The Master of Scrolls leans forwards, smiling all the while, waiting for any more tidbits the Pathfinders have for him.
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Brob thumbs through his mental notes a moment and replies, "We were able to find parables of the Farmer, the Fisherman, the Hunter, and the scholar. There were rituals to Aroden there... but none of us wanted to disturb the gillman's own ritual to see what they did."
Brob snaps his fingers. "Speaking of rituals, we destroyed what remained of a necromancer's plot to raise gillman undead. Hopefully those lost souls will have peace now."
"Oh, and finally, minotaurs really don't go 'Moo', and appear oblivious to verbal insults"
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"Sir, we also offered to aid the gillmen on their dangerous journey to the caves, but they believed that would lessen the importance of the pilgrimage. However, they did not seem opposed to a relationship with the Society in general. Perhaps we should send an envoy to them to discuss detials." Varus reports, proud of the hard work he and the team did. "Also, Janira's bravery should be noted. She was willing to give her life to protect ours. Fortunately, it was not required."
"A fine job, Pathfinders! A fine job indeed," Kreighton Shaine beams at the assembled crew, "Well, with a success like this and so many new agents coming in, we may have to make these 'group Confirmations' a more regular thing... after all, it's hard to show an ability to Cooperate without it! Well done again."
A few days later, the Pathfinders are all summoned to Kreighton Shaine's office again. This time, Markos Farabellus (the Master of Swords) and Aram Zey (the Master of Spells) and Janira Gavix are also present.
"Congratulations Pathfinders!" beams Kreighton Shaine, hardly able to contain himself, "You have all been accepted as full field agents in the Pathfinder Society. Please stand up one by one and allow Janira to present you with your new Wayfinders as befits agents of your station. A marvellous effort all 'round! Now, as the current foremost authorities on those carvings, I think it only fitting that you get to name the cave! What would you like to call it?"
The other Masters say little to begin with, but do offer their personal congratulations to each of the Pathfinders - especially those who follow their particular field of study. "We will expect great things," notes Aram Zey to each, and Markos Farabellus cannot help but give everyone a friendly punch on the shoulder with a, "That minotaur would be no match for me! I'd be happy to spar with you any time!"
Finally, Janira gather's everyone together, "I'm so proud of you! Thank you for continuing my work. It turns out, we may end up with a Pathfinder Chronicle from this after all... the most recent copy of Aroden's original work! Ooh! I'm so excited!
"Now, who's up for a drink at the Wounded Wisp? Race you there..."
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Boris beams as he passes by the Masters, and replies back to Master of Blades Farabellus: "Is to watch out balded man, Boris one day beat you at own game!" He chuckles then roars with laughter as he extends his hand to the Master of Blades, to shake upon it in a boorish, martial fashion.
As he steps away from the Masters, he forgets the wayfinder he so recently acquired. Doubtless he will have to ask for a favor, to get someone to sneak into the office later on to capture back the forgotten wayfinder.
"Maybe cave should to be named Janira's Race! Janira found caves and ran all around them. Was good jogging yes?"