Nightfall! That thing you’ve been dreading all day as you’ve made your way through the swamp. You’re on a raft crossing through the Mere of Dead Men, or Merdelain as it’s known in Elvish. It’s been a long journey from Waterhaven, where a local guildmaster had contracted you for some adventuring work. He promised a payout of 10,000 gold to track down a fugitive named Dervis. Normally this sort of business would be handled within the guild, but all he’d say is that this particular mission had to stay off the books, so he looked for outside help. Bring him in dead or alive and don't ask questions, and you get 10,000 GP. It seemed simple enough.
The last known sighting of Dervis was in the settlement of Leilon, which is where you began your investigation two days ago. You managed to track him down this morning, and he escaped into the swamp with a couple hours head start. You chartered a raft, piloted by a half-orc, and set off after him. Your contacts indicated that he’d arranged for transport on the other side of the Sword Mountains, just south of the swamp, and if he made it that far he’d disappear.
For the last several hours, you’ve made your way through the marshes. Things are quiet, almost too quiet. You’ve gone deeper into the swamp, hell-bent on catching the fugitive, despite warnings to not venture out after nightfall. You could have stopped for the night at the Weeping Willow Inn, but instead you all decided to keep going, lest your bounty escape for good. You’ve seen a couple crocodiles and a few flocks of birds, but even they have been absent the past couple hours. Now, as it gets darker and colder, under the light of a half moon you sit huddled together by torchlight and slowly keep floating into the void ahead. The water ahead is black and still, broken only by the slow motion of your raft.
A fog started rolling in several minutes ago, and has been getting more dense the further you go. Soon, you can’t even see the trees or reeds jutting out of the water. Just blackness. All you hear is your own breathing and heartbeat, and the same from your fellow companions. The blackness of the marsh turns to a pale grey, the light from your torches reflecting back at you off the wall of mist.
As quickly as it rolled in, the fog rolls back, but now the swamp looks different …
Miserable fog. Wet and clammy. What I wouldn't give to be back, sitting around a fire somewhere. Erial thinks to himself as his grip tightens around the worn leather grip of his longbow. His other hand strays to his collar, fingers rubbing the worn holy symbols hanging from a strip of battered leather. Closing his eyes against the reflected light, the memory of blood red lips set in ivory skin flooded his mind.
He begins murmuring to himself, under his breath, Evil quivers in my sights. Evil does not walk here. I do not suffer the undead. My arrow will fly true and my swords shall bite deep. Evil quivers in my sights. Evil does not walk here. I do not suffer the undead. My arrow will fly true and my swords shall bite deep. Slowly he rocks in slight time with the litany briefly before he stills himself. Drawing an arrow from his quiver, he nocks it against the string of his bow, eyes snapping open to stare into the fog, searching for the slightest hint of the vile taint of undead.
Why am I hunting this man? The question only enters the Wolf's mind once, as he's crouched in the boat with the others. He's just removed his armor, knowing its weight might quickly drag him down in the murk, and while the experience won't be his end, it would doubtlessly be a great inconvenience. The thought comes drifting in like their boat through the swamp, lazy and unexpected, though not truly surprising. He ruminates on it for but a moment before brushing it away.
Because sometimes, Man is the most terrible monster of all. So thinking, he leans forward and narrows his creased eyes, trying to peer ever further into the depths of this foggy, dingy place.
As the fog thickens, he glances at the nearby elf, muttering under his breath. A prayer, a chant. The ghost of a smile passes over the Old Wolf's lips, and one hand brushes the pendant around his neck. It's so worn with age, tarnished and battered and dirty, that he isn't even sure what god it's meant to petition, but that doesn't cause him discomfort. Either it still works, or it was never meant to. His other hand closes around the grip of his sword--equally worn, but a far more tangible defense against evil. His pike may have greater reach, but he has yet to face a foe that doesn't fall against a slab of raw iron with a wolf's-head pommel.
Still, though, a prayer can't hurt. The Old Wolf clears his throat, a guttural growl, and coughs once, a spat of phlegm falling to the boat's floor. "I am the sword against the darkness, the shield against the wicked. I do not lay my blade to rest, and neither am I laid to rest myself. Let this continue until my time is truly done, and let my time remain unfinished for many more nights." The litany is less rehearsed and more improvised, but the point is clear.
The sooner these meddling adventurers are out of my swamp the better. Ausk thinks to himself as he poles the raft forward.
Bleedin' landlubbers.
Otto thought, and sighed as he longed to be amongst his own. No sailor worth his salt would be spooked by a mistbank rolling by.
The silence however creeped him out too, he couldn't deny. There was something very wrong here.
These fools are getting nervous And he noted soon after that precisely that, was making him nervous.
'Shush!' He whispered loudly. 'Say your prayers in silence if you must. Water carries your mutterings further than you imagine.'
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Kara didn't realize she had drifted off, but now she stands up, yawning and stretching and gazing about. She catches the tail ends of the devout mutterings, and the solemn silence is rent by her omnipresent monologue reporting the latest news. "Ooooo! What's that? I've never seen a tree like that before! And look at that grass! It looks like a cat's tail but thicker! Like a dog? Is it a dog's tail? Otto, do you know why it's called a dog's tail?"
Silence reins again, but only long enough for Kara to sprint to the other side of the boat, the distance made shorter since she doesn't bother running around Otto but instead darts agily under his legs. "Oh hey! That tree is covered with moss! But the moss is all over? Why is it all over? Mr. Ausk, do you know why the moss is all over tree and not just on the North side? Maybe we've entered an alternative dimension where EVERY direction is North! Oh no! We'll have to come up with new words to describe where we're looking! Okay, that way isn't North anymore, it's "Norden". Opposite is Suden, and to the sides or Osten and Westen. Everybody got it? Just let me know if you need a refresher, and don't try to worry about the new alternative dimension we're in. I'll save you!"
That she simply named the current directions in their Orcish names doesn't seem to phase her.
Kara scurries about closer to the Warrior. "Are you the Sword in the Darkness then? So, do you have extra powers if it gets dark? Or do you need light to power your powers so you can do your super powers in the dark? Okay, I'll help."
The prow of the boat suddenly grows a small sphere of light, illuminating the gathering dark. "Okay, everyone, you don't need to panic anymore! I've helped power up Mr. Sword-in-the-Dark and now his super-powers work again!
Whew. That was a close one! Crises averted."
The halfling darts over to the other side of the boat near Erial. "You like things that fly true, huh? Sweet! I can do something that flies true! Hey, let's see if we can set one of these trees on fire! Yeah, yeah fire fire yeah!"
Kara starts throwing Fire Bolts at a nearby tree. The damp, moss-armored husk of the swamp-tree is little effected by the bolts, and at most it simply smokes a little at the barrage. Kara pouts, unhappy that the tree is not currently a flaming roman candle.
"Don't worry, Erial, we'll get that tree on fire yet! I think I brought some oil we can douse it with."
Kara starts rummaging in her backpack.
Otto slumped back a bit perturbed with an incredulous look on his face.
Think on the money Otto. He told himself quietly as he slowly exhaled.
"Y'know what, never mind. Pray to your gods lads.. I'm joining in." He said while he pulled out the pendant that hung around his neck on a string and kissed it.
Without even opening his eyes, the Old Wolf reaches out and grabs the back of Kara's shirt with one big hand, and easily lifts her into the air. "It's just a phrase, little one. An old saying. Don't take it literally." He opens his gaze, and the icy blue orbs stare into the halfling's own eyes. "Put out your light and stop trying to start a fire. We need quiet."
He looks around. "This is strange, though. You're right about that. You want to help, keep watch while I don my armor." The Wolf sets Kara back onto the boat's floorboards, grabs his mail, and begins to put it back on.
Selune, help me. Erial mutters as Kara launches into her giddy hyperactivity. I agree with him, we need some level of quiet. Armor wouldn't be a bad plan, without knowing what's going on. Keep those gouts of flame for the evil that walks out of the mist. With that, Erial sinks back into silent vigilance.
As the raft continues to float through the swamp you notice the trees are twisted and barren, claw like branches reaching out above you. You can’t help but wonder how long you were really passing through that fog. You notice a foul odor rising from the water that wasn’t there before.
The moonlight is brighter than before, and when you look up, the moon is full, where it was only a half moon mere minutes ago. The stars seem to be in a different position.
Erial stares up at the moon, now strangely full. Weren't we under a half-moon earlier, you lot? Seems it's full now -- and the stars don't look right.
Dice rolls:
Otto looked up and studied the sky a moment. "Really? Can't say I notice anything that strikes me odd myself." He looked at Erial. "You sure?"
Ausk looks around, but fails to notice the moon?
The Old Wolf looks up at the night sky after Erial comments on it, but the moon usually doesn't concern him greatly. He tries to keep track of full moons, since some monsters react to them, but was it a complete disc when they set out into the swamp? After a moment, he shakes his head. "Something's odd here, to be sure." He keeps tugging on his mail leggings, grunting but calmly adjusting when they catch on his worn woolen trousers.
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Kara's tiny feet keep running in the air for a full ten seconds before she realizes that Warrior-that-plays-with-his-Sword-in-the-Dark isn't letting her down.
At his insistence she nods at the light goes out. "Okay! Dark and put on armor. Got it!"
As soon as she's put down, her little hands immediately grab fistfuls of his pants, but can't seem to make any headway against their tight lacing. "Oooooh. You probably wear these WITH your armor, huh? That's weird but it takes all kinds."
At Erial's observation, she pauses long enough to look straight up.
"Well, duh! I said we were in an alternative dimension! We'll just keep heading West. Um, I mean, Westen! And then we'll be okay."
Kara has absolutely no idea what direction they're actually headed.
As the claw-like hands keep reaching out over the boot, she keeps jumping up, trying to catch one. "Oooh! I almost got it that time!"
As you continue through the swamp, you see a large patch of land to your left.
You also see dark clouds roll in, and within moments they completely obscure the moon and stars. It looks to be a very bad storm brewing.
Otto looked up at the sky, and turned to Ausk.
"Should we seek some shelter?" He asked, indicating the patch of land.
Ausk grunts back at the other half orc Yeh. Storm comin. Probably gonna be a blower.
Ausk poles the raft towards the promontory of dry land.
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"But we don't know what could be there! It could be anything! Okay, I'll scout. If there's anything there, it'll go after my cunning diversion."
A literally random point along the patch of land sprouts an orb of happy yellow light, its shininess mixing with the wan torches along the boat, illuminating any lurking beast.
The Wolf brushes away Kara's hands and finishes donning his armor: hauberk, leggings, and boot coverings, along with his thick leather gauntlets. As the storm clouds start blowing in, he nods at the suggestion of finding dry land and shelter. He grips his sword anew, along with his long pike, and throws his pack over his shoulder, ready to disembark but also ready to fight if necessary.
Following The Wolf's lead, Erial makes sure his pack is tight across his shoulders, but stays low, kneeling down in a stable position to fire his longbow from. His fingers play along the rugged gut strung across the bent wood. With the arrow aimed at the deck of the raft, he keeps his eyes drifting across the shadowed spot of land, ready to sight in on the slightest disturbance.
During the trip the old hunter had made every effort to become an enigma to those around him. He sat, draped in a heavy cloak that obscured his features, quiet and unmoving. Even when the trip through the swamp started to take an ominous turn, the hunter waited silently.
In the two days prior he had stayed away from the others as much as possible. Always finding an excuse to employ his skills as a tracker, and always alone. In those moments he would clutch his book, dreading to open it and find pages filled with omens and death.
When land appears, and with the storm brewing, Antonius rises from his seat. He was not unusually tall or short. Really, there was nothing exceptional about his appearance at all at first glance, though the cloak displayed nothing of his figure while he wore it. Antonius was only an old man, his weary gaze watching the land as it approached.
The group makes camp for the night. You brace yourselves anxiously for the storm to hit and it never does. The night passes without incident.
Eventually the blackness of the night gives way and the storm clouds recede. When day breaks the landscape is grey and dismal, the land blanketed by a thin mist. You don’t even see hints of sunlight amidst the clouds. The air is cold, damp and heavy.
After managing to trap and cook some small critters for breakfast, you pack up and resume your journey. You hope that perhaps the alien surroundings were just a result of fatigue and the storm clouds. You still have a fugitive to catch, and time is running out. In the back of your heads you know you’re in a strange place, far from home.
The raft continues forward in the miserable swamp. The water below the raft is several feet deep. To one side, black logs drift atop the stagnant water, threatening to impede your path. To the other, shadows slip through the trees and the underbrush, moving in time with the raft. The eyes of the swamp are upon you.
A large form moves among the logs, just below the water.
Antonius wordlessly points to the form in the water, indicating the presence to the rest of the raft.
As Antonius notices the form beneath the logs, it swims at the raft and suddenly a large crocodile leaps from the water and tries to grab the snack-sized Kara in it’s jaws.
While the crocodile fails to ensnare its prey, Kara is knocked off the raft and into the water. The crocodile swims towards her as she splashes about in the water.
Combat order: Old Wolf, Antonius, Otto, Kara, Ausk, Crocodile, Erial
Antonius reacts with surprising speed and maintains his balance easily while the raft shakes. With one fluid movement the heavy cloak that had been obscuring him is thrown away, revealing a lithe, but otherwise unremerkable frame clothed in simple garb. In one hand he has already drawn a long curved blade, likely in the same motion that he used to discard the coat.
He kneels down and grabs Kara by the collar and hauls her back towards the raft.
Rising to his feet smoothly, Erial draws the string of his bow back to his cheek, tracking the back of the crocodile through the water. Letting go of the gut, the arrow streaks out, splashing impotently in the murky water.
Selune damn it all. he forces out through clenched teeth.
Otto moved up beside Antonius and also reached out for Kara, wanting to help her up to the raft as fast as possible.
Damned scalies. This ain't time for them to want a snack. Ausk grunts as he pulls out his scimitar.
Ausk hops in the fetid water and heads towards the waterlogged Kara.
Hey! Scalie! This way! he barks, trying to get the croc's attention
The Old Wolf is the first to react, raising his sword and leaping into the water as Kara is knocked loose. He attempts to move toward the halfling while also swiping at the beast, a powerful overhand smash sending up a spray of murky water.
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As the morning dawned grey and cold, Kara realized that the morale of the party was in serious jeopardy, and had taken up the titanic task of keeping everyone's spirits up. And she knew (just as everybody knows) that nothing bouys a group's spirit like breaking a record. She tried the "Everybody spinning in a circle for four hours" record, and when that didn't work she suggested the "See Who Can Eat The Most Mud Record" and when that didn't go over, she decided everyone was already too depressed and she would need to lead the charge herself. She decided she'd need to do something special and break her -own- record. This meant singing Ten Thousand Bottles of Ale on The Wall.
Three times.
As Antonius pointed out the cool-log-that-moves Kara, naturally, of course, rushed over to the side to look at it, somehow mixing her song in with some badly-needed observations.
"Seven thousand four hundred ninety seven bottles of ale on the wall, Seven thousand four hundred ninety seven bottles of ale!
Hey that looks like a crocodile! Or is it an alligator? Or is it a landshark?
Take one down, pass it around, Seven thousand four hundred ninety six bottles of ale on the wall!
Hey! Hey everyone! Is this a crocodile or an alliAWXCGHGHHRRKK!!"
The moral-raising (probably) cacophony comes to an abrupt halt as a halfling-shaped form joins the mucky water.
Her small head goes under the water briefly, but she re-assures the party that's she not lost, and her first words when she can take breath are, "Oh no! Our record is ruined! Don't worry *HACK* everyone! *Glargh!* I'll...I'll get us out of this!"
Kara sees Antonius and Otto try and grab for her, but she doesn't want to inconvenience them too much, so she skillfully dodges out of the way of their grips. They'll surely thank her for it later.
She tries to grab the passing raft, vowing to throw fire at the croc-alli-landshark record-killing monster!
The Old Wolf jumps in after Kara and swipes at the crocodile with his sword, slashing it open. The beast bleeds into the water, but it undeterred in its quest for a halfling snack!
Antonius leans out and tries to snag Kara to pull her back onto the raft, but is unable to reach her.
Otto tries the same and is also unsuccessful.
Kara swims back toward the raft and just narrowly misses grabbing hold.
Meanwhile, Ausk jumps into the water, blade drawn, trying to distract the reptilian predator.
The crocodile returns to bite Kara as Erial's arrow whizzes by it.
The crocodile grabs Kara in its mighty jaws and clamps down, thrashing her around in the water! She falls unconscious from the pain. Blood flows heavily into the water around the raft.
Old Wolf, Antonius, Otto, Kara , Ausk, Crocodile, Erial
The Old Wolf grimaces as blood is shed, especially as more comes from the lively halfling. He brings his blade around with redoubled strength, trying to catch the crocodile as it comes out of the water.
Ausk tries to get the reptile's attention...in the most half orc way he can think of, he hits it with his sword!
Come at me you scaley git! he grumbles
Cursing the loss of one arrow, Erial whips a second out, nocking it quickly and letting it sail at the crocodile.
Selune take you, water devil! he cries out as the arrow leaps from the string.
Erial will drop his bow and attempt to retrieve Kara as best he can.
The Old Wolf stabs the crocodile again and manages to kill it. Kara is released into the water as it's jaws go limp.
As the crocodile's carcass sinks into the water, a second crocodile jumps up from the water, lured by all the blood!
Antonius
Otto
Kara
Ausk takes a swing at the second croc and misses!
The crocodile swims toward the felled halfling.
Erial reaches out and easily manages to snatch Kara from the water!
Antonius kneels down next to the soaked halfling and draws a vial from within his jacket. He sets about applying the contents, though the process is not simple.
Otto jumps into the water too, when he notices the second beast. He punches it straight in the nose and follows it up with a poke in its eye.
Attack 1:
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Attack 1:
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Edit: apologies! Damage should be +3, not +5
Otto jumps into the water and attempts to punch the crocodile, missing, then follows with a nasty poke in the eye!
Kara barely clings to life in the water.
Ausk takes a swing at the second croc and misses!
The crocodile swims toward the felled halfling.
Erial reaches out and easily manages to snatch Kara from the water!
Antonius prepares to perform blood ministration on Kara to heal her before she expires!
The crocodile still awaits. Two freshly killed crocodiles would make for a mighty feast!
Old Wolf, Antonius, Otto, Kara , Ausk, Crocodile, Erial
Ausk continues bellowing at the Crocodile Go on Scaley! Git! Git on outta here! and he beats the water with his sword
Otto starts cursing all nine hells together while he's trying to hold himself steady against the beast with one hand and punching with all his might with the other.
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