Chum peers in through the door. His eyes handle the gloom better, but he still mutters an incantation on the magical dagger, which he holds up like a torch to illuminate the room.
Eleuterio also looks into the room, though he is scanning with the sight gifted to him by Heaven.
"Stop," Eleuterio hissed, throwing an arm up against Chum as the druid attempts to enter the room. He concentrates for a few moments longer, and frowns. "Something unclean is in that body, Captain. Something just evil enough for Heaven to see. I suggest we open fire on it."
Chum does not have to be told twice and all-too-willingly steps behind the paladin. Sure that the others can handle what they see, he turns to watch their backs.
Quite right, fellows. Let's bring our arrows to bear on this. I hated the thought of wasting more of my shots before we even reached the grindylows. As it was, I was going to have to be sparing regardless. I only had five more shots before I was stuck with just my rapier. Or to have to retreat back to the ship to refill my powder horn. I will definitely have to look into getting myself a backup horn in case I am away from the ship for similar escapades.
Instead, I scooped up a heavy enough stone to do some damage, then flung it at the corpse as hard as I could as everyone else let loose with their arrows.
"NOW we're going to be cautious?"
Quite right, Mr. Cooper! Better to deal with this thing at range, rather than to risk another messy scrap! I agreed with Evril. I wasn't quite sure why he seemed so surprised at this rather sound tactic.
"Here, cap'n. With all due respect, I think I might have something more effective than a rock."
Artevious' rock hits with substantial force, and Chum's lightning arcs in right behind it, scorching flesh. As soon as the rock hits, the body animates with sudden fury, yellow eyes opening and arms - tipped with vicious-looking claws - alternately slashing futilely toward you and trying desperately to free itself from whatever is holding it above the floor around its neck. (The interior gloom makes it hard to tell, but it looks like a metal collar of some kind.) A wash of horrid stench suddenly rolls out of the cabin, making your eyes water.
And on the heels of the smell comes a more physical wave, a swarm of tiny, angry flies rising off the body and swarming toward you like locusts about to descend on a cornfield.
Wishing to get this rescue mission over with before I need rescuing, I lob one of Crimson's fire jars at the swarm.
A burst of flame roars up in the midst of the botflies, engulfing them.
Conchobhar sees the wisdom in Evril's approach and snatches one of the flasks himself, hurling right behind Evril's.
More flames sear the flies, and tiny burning bugs fall like shooting stars out of the air.
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Eleuterio struggles to retrieve one of the flasks of alchemical fire as the midge swarm buzzes angrily towards him.
The burning bugs swarm toward and over your group, and you feel the their thousands of tiny mouths biting and stinging your flesh.
This. Was. Intolerable. Everything on this bloody island was out to get us, chewing us up, and we weren't any closer to finding Sandara and Crimson. Despite the stinging and biting, I snatched up one of the flasks of alchemist's fire, and stepped out of the cloud.
Owlbear also jumps away from the stinging flies, crying and shouting in pain. He grabs one of the flasks and throws it almost blindly.
His throw is not as accurate as the others have been, and only a few of the flies are singed.
"Son of a b***h!", Eleuterio cries as the insects find their way beneath his armor and bite him. "Burn them, burn them quick!" He drops his blade, as it was useless in this fight, and pulls an alchemist's fire from his pack as well, tossing it at the midge swarm as well.
I take a step back, calling on my inner reserve to regain my strength.
"Morsus evanescant"
The botflies, still burning, cannot withstand Eluterio's assault and the continued effects of Evril's flask, and they finally disperse. Horribly, though, their bites keep bleeding, sapping the strength of those that were bitten.
The gnome rushes forward, dodging between the burning insects as they fall out of the sky, and tries to bind his captain's wounds. His efforts are not much help, though, and the blood continues to flow.
Chum moves to aid the captain, as well.
"Nuts, Conchobhar, I got in your way. Go ahead, I will see to Owlbear."
We had managed to disperse the biting flies, but my wounds from the swarm left me even weaker. I needed to try to bandage my wounds, or at least help those who were lending a hand.
Right lads, I don't suppose leaches would help with this?
Ultimately, I don't think I helped matters.
Chum moves to Owlbear and tries to bind his wounds long enough to allow his natural healing to take over.
"Hold still a moment, Captain."
"How about you, Master Reis?"
"The bites," Eleuterio says as he begins to remove his armor. "Something in them keeping the blood flowing..." He strips off his vambraces to reveal several trickles of blood from further up his armor. "Damn! Can't quite reach it..."
With the botflies taken care of, ending the struggles of the hanging but unquiet corpse in the middle of the room is a simple matter. In the ensuing calm, the group quickly explores the cabin. It is is a single chamber, crowded with a large amount of furniture that must have been looted from some shipwreck, whether it was the one that brought the unfortunate man here or some other. The items include a comfortable bed, a small writing desk, cooking gear, and several barrels of rotting food. The stench of rot is overpowering and flies swarm within the room, particularly around the now-still corpse hanging from a chain off a beam in the middle of the room. A stool lies on the floor nearby where it was kicked.
Searching in more detail - and with generous use of fabrics to cover your noses and mouths - you find a suit of leather armor, six spears, and eight finely tailored courtier’s outfits. In addition, the lodge contains a spice cabinet holding 5 pounds of pepper in waxed bags, a silver tankard, and a silver locket depicting a beautiful, buxom young elven woman. You recognize her as one of the ghouls you slew yesterday.
As you finish your search of the cabin, you discover that Conchobhar is not with you. Even as this registers, though, he reappears, dropping out of the branches of the massive tree outside. With a flourish, he wordlessly presents his justification for briefly departing: a potion bottle, a trio of silver shoe buckles, a gold wedding ring, and a silver hatpin, all salvaged from the "nest" of the vine chokers in the tree's upper branches.
Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (19) + 10 = 29
I pull the ring out from it's hiding place, and present it to the others.
"A fitting present for our Besmaran friend to celebrate her rescue, don't you think?"
Looking over all the items we've uncovered, I call upon my second sight to see if any of them are extra special.
"Magica es?" - detect magic
"Either of you know what this does?" I ask Chum and Leu, offering the ring to them.
The holy warrior shrugs his shoulders. "It lets you speak with dolphins, as far as I know."
Really? That's quite the powerful item, then! I responded. I wonder, does it simply translate their clicks, or does it allow you to click right along with them?
That would be quite the singular ability, I mused. Though I wondered how it would rate in a tale of epic buccaneering. Maybe not something for the captain, but one of his staunch allies. I glanced about, appraising who might be best suited to use such an ability.
Chum looks at the ring for any inscriptions that might yield a clue, but he didn't pray for the magical sight to interpret auras today. A little embarassed, he hands the ring back to the Andoran. "I might tell something of it after praying for the gift from the Wind and the Waves, but not today." With a shrug and a slight smile, he offers, "It might aid someone's swimming or prevent them from sinking, but I like his suggestion better."
"Shall we see what the spyglass is gazing at? It appears to be fixed on something in particular."
Chum's examination of the ring turns up no new information about its function or use.
His turn to the spyglass, though, is far more illuminating. The glass is fixed to point in a south-southeast direction, looking toward something on the southern edge of the island. It is a deep, cauldron-like sinkhole in the rocks above the southern cliff; it looks to be at least twenty or so feet deep, and potentially much deeper, since the bottom can't be seen at this angle. What catches Chum's eye as he peers through the lens, though, is the pair of grindylows cavorting on the rocks just below the edge of the depression.
It's them! erm. Well, not them. I mean, it's the vermin that kidnapped Sandara. And Cogsworth," I add, noticing my omission.
Chum takes a sniff at the potion and swirls it in the flask to see if the color reminds him of anything.
Chum is likewise unable to determine just what the potion might be.
Chum tries to determine the best route from their current position to where the grindylows are.
Chum estimates that the trip will likely take a couple of hours; not because of distance, but because of the extremely uneven and rocky terrain. The group will have to follow the ridge line of the island's rocky western cliffs to reach the grindylows' location, and it will be an awkward, slow and probably palm-scraping scramble for most of a mile and a half.
Frowning, the druid looks for a less direct but safter route.
As the druid looks around for an alternate route, Eleuterio leans heavily against the hut wall, and calls upon the Inheritor's favor to close his wounds.