Sunset paints the river shades of ochre and crimson as the group returns to the Drop Gator Tavern.
The Drop Gator is a rollicking bar with many rangers, immigrants, rivermen, and adventurers all packed into a large warehouse-type building with tables and booths and sawdust on the floor. The group manages to snag a booth out of the main areas and the noise is a bit muted. As they get settled and order their drinks a fight breaks out in the farther corner. there is a splash of blood then several burly employees are tossing men out the doorway.
As they get settled and order their drinks a fight breaks out in the farther corner. there is a splash of blood then several burly employees are tossing men out the doorway.[/i]
"Hee hee hee..."
To the assembled team, San says, "We should get as early a start as possible. Preferably, we should be leaving just at daybreak in order to maximize our travel time. We may need to take a break of several hours at mid-day, if the day is hot, so the earlier the start, the more ground we can cover. What do you think, Egan?"
Ten Foot agrees that an early start is preferred, possibly very early before too many people are awake and decide to follow where a heavily armed group are heading.
That said, he will spend a large portion of the night in the bar "praying".
The group discusses their plans at the Drop Gator and enjoy their last night in civilization. The bar doesn't shut down until well past midnight. The group awakes at dawn with dry mouths and a urge to travel on. They gather their gear and animals and set off on the Uplands Trail towards the distant cloud-wrapped shapes of the Blue Mountains.
The Uplands Trail is well maintained the forst day they travel, being wide enough for two standard wagons to travel. At first the group sees plenty of traffic, plantationmen going to and fro with their goods, Zapatec and Ssliss'pok travelling on their errands, groups of adventurers tromping along.
After the morning's travel, the traffic dwindles as the jungle closes into the trail. Plantations are rarer, and ruder, out this far. There is still the occasional goods convoy travelling from the Blue Mountains, but they are only occasional, and often well-guarded by Uplands Rangers or private caravan guards.
The Opal River also has traffic upon it, more goods and small boats than what the group had seen downriver. There are more sightings of snakeheads and Direcudas in the waters. Winged dinosaurs of many kinds haunt the turbulent green river, hunting and being hunted in turn.
As noon approaches the temperature reaches a horrible level. The sun beats through the trees like a lance of fire. As the group starts to get tired they see a side road following a small tributary of the Opal. A faded wood sign reads Tanglewood Plantation. The road looks recently used, with lumperdung and wagon ruts in it.
Ten Foot trudges along, drinking conjured water like it is going out of fashion, beads of sweat run down his face, turning his loose tunic top a dark colour and sticking it to his chest. He offers his mug around regularly, or fills the others drinking skins as required. He watches the trees hawkish, wary of any spider that may be lurking there, at least half the sweat could be attributed to fear of scurrying things with 8 legs.
The sign for the plantation comes at an opportune time, "Never look a gift horse in the mouth, shall we pop in for tea?" He looks around for a general consensus, the adds with a grin, "hopefully this isn't the plantation trying to turn people into zombies."
"Not a bad idea Ten-Foot. We can check and see if they know of anything we may need to be on the lookout for that we did not hear about at the fort." Izkrael replies.
San nods in agreement. "Yes, we should take a break from the mid-day sun." As we travel, San keeps an eye out for trouble.
sight-based Perception (1d20+9=15, 1d20+9=17, 1d20+9=16, 1d20+9=20, 1d20+9=15)
He watches the trees hawkish, wary of any spider that may be lurking there, at least half the sweat could be attributed to fear of scurrying things with 8 legs.
Vilya contemplates letting her hand *crawl* up Ten's spine, just to mess with his mind. She decides against it, but vows to use his little phobia to her advantage in the future.
San nods in agreement. "Yes, we should take a break from the mid-day sun." As we travel, San keeps an eye out for trouble.
sight-based Perception (1d20+9=15, 1d20+9=17, 1d20+9=16, 1d20+9=20, 1d20+9=15)
The group goes down the rutted trail. The false mallorn, mahogany, ironwood, purplewood and elvenstar trees form an almost solid canopy above them. The jungle is alive with small chirps and squeaks as various small arboreal creatures, reptile and mammal, scurry about.
After about a half mile of walking along the 20 ft wide tributary stream the jungle begins to thin, raw stumps appearing in cleared meadows. Fields soon appear, as well as rice paddies near the water. Stacked tools and handcarts lay at hand, but there seems to be no one around.
As the group travels on, it comes to a small pallisade. There is an open gate and a small complex of buildings with a large wooden keep on a built up hill. The entire structure is surrounded by a moat supplied by the nearby tributary. Keep diagram. A set of sleepy looking guards snap up when the party approaches, shifting long spears. A sign over the gate reads:
Tanglewood
One guard speaks up
"Who be ye, an' what's yer business in Tanglewood?"
Tobias steps forward.
"Forgive us, good sirs. We are but humble travellers, looking for a place to stay away from the noon-day sun. May we please stay here for a few short hours?"
Ten Foot gives a cheery grin and a wave from over Tobi's shoulder, before offering the guards a mug of cool ale, "Thirsty work all this guarding?" he comments as he shows them the mugs.
Aid other diplomacy check for Tobias's diplomacy check. (1d20+5=18)
The guard relaxes a bit, then smiles when Ten offers him a magically appearing mug of ale.
"Aye, that it is. You folks coming out of Opal? Always good to see one of Cayden's men on the road."
The guard touches a silver mug on a chain that hangs around his neck. He drinks down the proferred ale and licks his lips
"Ahh, lovely. If ye be wanting to get out of the sun, most folks are either home gettin' some shut eye or down at the Hutch. That's our local temple/inn. If ye be on good behavior Tanglewood is open to yeh."
The guard allows them to enter.
Tanglewood is essentialy a small hamlet. The few people outside at this hour look to be Dragoran in descent, some looking like fairly recent arrivals with their pale skins still reddening with the sun. The whole complex has a raw feel to it. These folks aren't established enough to have a lot of frills. A large building with a sign over it with two rabbits face-to-face on it is near the base of the hill the small keep rests on. The sign says in Concordant:
The Hutch
"That is mighty kind of you, we will be no trouble, just looking for some where to get out of the sun and get a lie of the land around here," Ten answers the guard. "Ten Foot is the name and I am delighted to meet a fellow faithful," he pulls his sweaty shirt open to reveal a birthmark on his chest in the shape of a tankard.
"After you, I'll catch up in a moment," Ten Foot sweeps his arm in a grand gesture to let the others pass by while he converses with the guards making idle chit for a few minutes before heading after the others.
Egan enjoys the trip through the jungle despite the heat. He really feels at home in this environment. Instead of resting at the plantation like everyone else he decides to look around the place for anything unusual.
"I'm going to take a quick walk around the area if anyone wants to join me" He states.
He will then begin his stroll.
Perception Sight; Perception Hearing (1d20+18=24, 1d20+18=29)
Izkrael decides to check out the surroundings with Egan.
Perception rolls11(sight-based), (sound-based)
"That is mighty kind of you, we will be no trouble, just looking for some where to get out of the sun and get a lie of the land around here," Ten answers the guard. "Ten Foot is the name and I am delighted to meet a fellow faithful," he pulls his sweaty shirt open to reveal a birthmark on his chest in the shape of a tankard.
"After you, I'll catch up in a moment," Ten Foot sweeps his arm in a grand gesture to let the others pass by while he converses with the guards making idle chit for a few minutes before heading after the others.
The two guards, Cleon and Raffi, are both long-term immigrant settlers, escaping from the Bright Empire over 15 years ago. They enjoy living in Tanglewood, and although the place is dangerous they are able to work their own fields without the crushing taxes the Bright Empire would affix to them. There have been lots of undead and dinosaur sightings lately, but the moat helps ward off the most mindless of them, as water confuses both types of monster and makes them easy targets. The lord of Tanglewood is Sir Franco Kossani, who is actually a former plantationman himself who made good with his original steading and started this plantation with his savings and some financial help from an Opaline noble house. The plantation isn't very rich, but the distance from Opal and civilization gives the residents breathing room.
Egan enjoys the trip through the jungle despite the heat. He really feels at home in this environment. Instead of resting at the plantation like everyone else he decides to look around the place for anything unusual.
"I'm going to take a quick walk around the area if anyone wants to join me" He states.
He will then begin his stroll.
Perception Sight; Perception Hearing (1d20+18=24, 1d20+18=29)
Iz and Egan decide to check out the local jungle. The midday heat is oppressive, and the two are soon covered in sweat.
The fields surrounding Tanglewood are in the process of change. The wet season crops are being harvested while the dry season crops are being planted. Egan and Iz have seen this all before, and head out to the wilder jungle margins.
The massive trees begin to close in as soon as the two leave the last partially-cleared field. During the midday heat there are few animals moving. The forest canopy echoes with the calls of arboeal creatures.
Suddenly, there is a sound of movement in the underbrush. The two companions pause, and the leaves 60 feet in front of them part as a nightmarish sight emerges from the brush.
Three corpses walk out of the underbrush, their features Dragoran, but the heat and rot have sloughed much of their flesh away. Stinking green gobbets cling to bones, and the abominations have obsidian slivers worked into their flesh at bizarre angles. The smell that rolls off them is sickening in the still heat. Each corpse has its own obscene halo of blowflies buzzing about it. They stumble towards Iz and Egan, their dull leaden eyes boring into them.
Initiative 1d20+4=19
Egan will try to get off an arrow before the creatures close on him. If he can he will do so and move 30' away from the creatures after every shot.
If the terrain makes it impossible for him to stay away from the creatures, he will look for something he can climb easily and shoot from above. If neither of these is possible, he will drop his bow, and draw his Battleaxe.
Izkrael will draw his curveblade, and move towards one of the undead on the ends of the trio, say the one on his left. If he can do a single move and still attack one, he will, otherwise, he moves toward 30 feet and readies an attack for the first one to step into reach.
Egan will try to get off an arrow before the creatures close on him. If he can he will do so and move 30' away from the creatures after every shot.
Egan's arrow slices into the zombie with a wet squelching sound. The zombie turns to him and begins advancing, a burbbly sound like an underwater moan coming from its ruined voicebox
Iz steps forward and engages another that shambles up to him. His blow cuts deep, a slice that opens it up to the spine, rotting entrails sliding from its gassy body cavity and swinging in a grotesque tangle of rotting sausage.
"Disgusting..."
Vilya edges off to to the side of the rotting undead, setting herself up to flank them, or attack from the rear.
Whoops!
After Egan's shot, he retreats, but an unseen vine coils around his ankle and he falls prone. His persuer moans and shambles through the brush, but fails to fall on the hapless ranger.
The two zombies on Iz close in to him, the hum of the jungle insects heightening as their rotting carcasses approach. The slash at him with the jagged obsidian shards pushed through their arms.
Iz easly dodges the clumsy dead.
Joleesa spends the time on the trail in the saddle, letting "Wheezy" loose for the first time in a while. He relishes the freedom to run and he speeds up and down the road around the others. Joleesa takes off her hat and lets the breeze catch her hair, making it look like a flame billowing out from the top of her head.
At Tanglewood, she slows him down and calmly strokes his neck, speaking to him in Greenspeak. Lumien lands back on her shoulder and gives her a nip for making him fly for so long. She lets Tobias and Ten deal with the guards, taking the time to get an idea of the area. She watches Egan and Izkrael go, cautioning to be careful and shaking her head as she notices Vilya following them at a discreet distance.
Once at The Hutch she dismounts and tethers "Wheezy", entering to escape the heat. Finding a table, she calls the barmaid over and orders a coconut milk, turning to the others for them to give their order.
The Hutch is a well-built building, the only one made of stone in the entire compound. Inside there is a common room and a bar/altar where a porty gent polishes clay mugs. The common room is packed, as folks take their leisure during the brutal midday heat. These are plantation workers, mostly male, mostly single. They are a mixed bag of Dragoran, Sansarrati and Zapatec descent. A few sport elongated ears hinting at Elvish ancestry. Everyone is muddy, and they all sport some sort of weapon and protective armor, mostly cured leather.
When Joleesa and the others enter, the room falls silent, the residents giving the newcomers the once over. The portly man at the bar pipes up:
"Welcome to the Hutch my friends! May the Four Hundred bring you luck in your ventures! How may I help you this fine day?"
"A rest from this insipid heat and a drink is all that we require my good man. I'll have a coconut milk and just quietly an dash of rum in there would not go astray."
The portly man smiles and fufills Joleesa's order. A quick slice of a coconut with a well-used machete and a dash of liquid from a large stoneware jug and the drink is on the bar.
"That'll be five pennies, or do you wish to run a tab for the moment?"
The bartender gives Joleesa an appreciative once over.
"So what brings you and your friends to our humble house?"
She smiles at the bartender, maybe a little too flirtily. "We'll run a tab, my friend here has quite the appetite for drink."
We're just travellers on the way through. We saw the sign on the road and decided to get out of the midday sun. I can't believe I never knew this place existed. It's such a busy little outpost"
The portly man grins at the flirty Opaline
"Busy? Well, it's the season to be busy, gotta harvest then plant! The growing cycle here is so different from my homeland. Back there we had but one growing season, and folks got to rest a bit in the cold months. Other than planting crops, clearing trees and whacking things what would scare Rovagug we don't do much here. You up from the city? Looking for adventure?"
"That we are my good man. I grew up on a plantation, so I know how busy they can be. Anything you can tell me about the area?"
The portly bartender/priest thinks
"Well, we're kind of isolated out here, and we do get a lot of bad lizards out this way. We have drop gators in the trees near the Tangle and there is a pack of raptors that lurk about looking for livestock to snatch. We get a few undead, but not too many this close to Fort Trevins. Spiders are plentiful, and there are a few Xipe Totec cultists in the deeper jungle."
Ten Foot leaves the guards to their post, but not before promising to leave them a drink behind the bar when their shift finishes. He then heads to the Hutch to see what is on the menu, "thirsty and hungry work this marching, what is for lunch?".
He eats well, but restricts himself to only a few drinks, I will also leave a couple of gold with the barkeep to buy the gate guards, Cleon and Raffi, a drink or two.
Egan crawls away from the beast as fast as he can, then attempts to stand up. If the thing still gets an opportunity he takes it, then draws his battleaxe.
Before Iz leaves with Egan, he mentions to his friend, "Try not exert yourself too much, my friend. As you know, heat stroke is the last thing we need to be dealing with." With that, he claps him on the back and says, "See you in Tanglewood in a few hours."
San enters the Hutch with the others. Frowning a bit at the overly-chatty Joleesa and bartender, he thinks sarcastically to himself, Why not just write up flyers with our origin and destination on them? We could just pass them out to everyone we meet ... He tells the bartender, "Just water, please" and heads to an out-of-way table, if available.
Actually Villa, you can sneak attack undead in Pathfinder.
Whoops!
Vilya creeps silently for a few steps, taking time to draw her handaxe and mace, then springs like a jungle cat.
"SNEAK ATTACK!!"
The handaxe in Vilya's right hand misses the leftmost zombie by inches, but the light mace in her left impacts the creature's cranium, bursting it like a ripe melon.
Initiatives:
Round 2:
Egan 19 [scrambling to feet/attacking]
Iz 19 [pending]
Vilya 18 [sneak attack]
Zombies: 10 [attacking]
AoO on Egan: 1d20+2=17, 1d6+1=5, ATK on Egan: 1d20+2=8 ATK on IZ: 1d20+2=4, 2nd ATK on IZ 1d20+2=7
Egan struggles to rise to his feet as the fetid undead lashes out at him. One of the obsidian shards pushed through its hand sinks into his flesh. Another hand swipes by his face, the serrated stone shards barely missing him.
Vilya leaps at her foe. The handaxe just misses her target, but the mace strikes home, causing a gout of foul-smelling liquified flesh to come squirting from the rotted head of the zombie in a brown spray.
Vilya leaps at her foe. The handaxe just misses her target, but the mace strikes home, causing a gout of foul-smelling liquified flesh to come squirting from the rotted head of the zombie in a brown spray.[/i]
"EEEURGHH!"
"EEEURGHH!"
Vilya's mace bounces back from the rotting corpse, its head slicked with foul substances.
The zombie's head has partially imploded, leaving a ripped concavity along its decayed cheek. Bits of jawbone and yellow teeth dribble out of the gash onto the jungle floor. Maggots squirm in the newly-exposed tongue.
The undead turns to Vilya, its head skewed at an unnatural angle. It bares what teeth remain in its crushed skull and advances towards her.
"EEEURGHH!"
Vilya's mace bounces back from the rotting corpse, its head slicked with foul substances.
The zombie's head has partially imploded, leaving a ripped concavity along its decayed cheek. Bits of jawbone and yellow teeth dribble out of the gash onto the jungle floor. Maggots squirm in the newly-exposed tongue.
The undead turns to Vilya, its head skewed at an unnatural angle. It bares what teeth remain in its crushed skull and advances towards her.
"Everyone has the right to be ugly, but I'm afraid you've abused the privilege."
Vilya likewise bares her teeth and prepares to pounce again.
Initiative 22
Izkrael swings at the zombie he just disembowled again.
attack 28( rolled 26, but forgot to add favored enemy bonus to hit) damage 11