Desmond moves forward while drawing his sword, and slashes at the controller.
He saves his parry for the crocodile's attack.
Croc have CMD 36 so
-
-
Desmond suffers a major injury, but Escapes the Croc fangs and kills the intended goblin.
"Retreat! That is not something easily killed!" Vendrick calls out the order for a retreat before drawing a circle in the air before it disappears.
Moryn uses Hypnotic Stare as a swift action and Misfortune Hex as a standard action on... Whatever enemy is closest to him, I suppose.
@ Vendrick and Moryn
It doesn't take too much for Vendrick to convince the goblins to withdraw.
Moryn's ability saves a couple of goblins from being smashed by an angry demonic (medium) gorilla. And most goblin can get outside the range of the monkey-goblin tribe.
From afar the second Bar-Lgura observe the situation. Though primal looking, the cruelty that burns in its rheumy red eyes signals a hateful intelligence. Bar-Lgura 2 then magically gets invisible.
Vendrick thrusts a hand out and a burst of sparkling light pops around the Bar-Lgura that is still visible.
- The spell harmlessly fizzles in the air around the Bar-Lgura.
- The spell harmlessly fizzles in the air around the Bar-Lgura.
Sven grunts as the croc hits him, and draws on the power of nature to grow yet more plants to fill in the wounds in his currently plant-like body.
Then he fires off another, weaker blast at the crocodile. This one doe snot crackle with living energy, but remains a razor sharp exploding shaft of wood.
- Blinded.
=================
The crocodile dies and with it all the resistance from the goblin tribe. The only thing that prevents the complete annihilation of the goblin tribe is the water, since some local goblins can escape underwater. But other than that, it's a massacre. Tuskkeep goblins gloat in the blood of their enemies, with some tortures and cannibalism here and there.
In a primitive construction you find an altar made of bones dedicated to some kind of crocodile god or perhaps demon lord. The place radiates unholiness. Maybe you don't mind the almost total slaughtering of a tribe if you know they were little evil bastards.
Desmond winces and clutches his shoulder where the crocodile bit him.
"Sven, I'll be honest...I'm not sure I like your new fighting style. I'm glad you're at peace with nature and all that, and you certainly needed to lose some weight...but if you're hanging back to shoot wooden spikes at range, that means I'll be taking the hits that used to be aimed at the big angry boar-man next to me."
"But I know you didn't have much choice in how you were reincarnated. Guess I'll just need to get used to being the center of attention."
Sven grunts.
"Not very fun, is it?"
@ Moryn and Vendrick
The visible Bar-Lgura is heavily debuffed and the goblins can escape safely, but how do you kill it?
Moryn's turn.
"Nothing else to do here."
Moryn turns into a bird and flies away.
The blinded gorilla is very screwed and can't do anything to avoid your retreat.
=============
You all reunite and have the chance to plan your next move while the mosquitoes gorge on everybody's blood.
The big crocodile (and the croc totem) and the Demonic gorillas point to fiendish intervention. It's not clear to you, though, if it is common that the marsh tribes have constant access to these powerful boons or if you just stumbled on the wrong tribes.
"So...demons. That is rather peculiar."
Sven pokes a goblin.
"These guys usually use demons?"
A random goblin is of no use to answer that question, but eventually you find one from the wolfriders and he says
Sir!, Usually only the strongest tribes, the favored by Lamasthu have access to her blessings. Sometimes, a minor demon tries to steal lamasthu's followers, but those tribes don't last long as they are despised hunted by the others.
So, the obvious options now are Leaving the monkey-Goblin alone and investigate deeper into the swamp or return and make sure to finish off the tribe. Other options include not sending a party against the tribe, but doing some scouting first to avoid any surprises.
"We should stick together from now on. I suggest we set up a rearguard and move deeper into the swamp. Demons being called without abandon pose a serious problem. These goblins likely do not fathom the long-term repercussions that it could have for decades or centuries unchecked."
You still have half-day of light.
So, goblins scout ahead and report the following (more info can be given if you help the goblin somehow):
1) The first group met some wandering lizardfolk. The lizardfolk attacked them without warning. Two goblins died. The scouts think the Lizardfolk lair is nearby.
2) Deeper in the swam there is a place of deep waters. The scouts saw the top of a metal structure protrude from the dark water. The structure is probably much bigger below the surface. There were too much water to gather more info. The metal seems to be Mittrahl.
3) There is a portion of the swamp that normal creatures, and even normal monsters avoid. Inside the threes are warped in strange ways, the water shines green and the fauna are deformed. Strange, twisted goblins live there. The scouts returned sickened and with a serious urticaria. You have heard about that place.
Adventurers generally avoid that part of the swamp; however, it is said that, that was the center of a holy place of the ancient Druids of the vale. It's rumored that the treasures and knowledge of the Druids is still unearthed.
"Man, this is getting complicated. I need a drink."
Desmond takes a swig from his flask, then stumbles backwards.
"Whoa, that tasted...weird..."
Suddenly feeling very lightheaded, he falls into the shin-deep swamp water with a loud splash. He lies motionless for a few seconds, completely submerged by the opaque liquid...
Desmond opens his eyes. He finds himself sitting at the bar in the Riverside Inn. The place is completely deserted...save for one person, standing in front of one of the windows.
The sun is shining through the window with unnatural brightness, illuminating the person from behind and silhouetting their figure. Desmond can't make out their face, but as his eyes adjust to the light, he starts to make out a slender yet masculine build. Then he sees the silhouette is holding a tankard, and has a sheathed rapier.
Desmond's eyes widen. "Cayden Cailean...i-is that you?!"
Then he hears a deep but friendly voice speaking in his mind.
Yes, it is. I've been watching you, Desmond Alfonio. Sorry for the sudden intrusion, but-
The voice is interrupted as Desmond quickly leaps out of his barstool and drops to his knees. The voice laughs heartily, ringing in Desmond's mind like a church bell.
Oh, stand up, Desmond. You should know I'm not the type of god who likes seeing people grovel at my feet.
Desmond stands back up, looking sheepish. "Yeah, well...I didn't want to make assumptions. So, uh...what can I do for you?"
You have done well in serving my cause, but you have not been true to yourself. It is time for you to stop hiding from your true nature.
"Huh? I don't know what you mean."
Oh, but I think you do. When you were a young lad, you were quite strong for your age. You liked getting in fistfights with other boys. But then, once you started worshiping me, you also started to emulate me. You neglected your muscles in favor of agility, and your fighting style became more defensive. You even started using that katana of yours to parry and riposte, like a rapier.
"I always thought you'd want your followers to fight that way!"
No. I want my followers to choose their own path. To do what feels right without worry or shame! The silhouette of Cayden holds up his tankard. That's why ale is part of my portfolio, Desmond. It fills the soul with courage and frees it of inhibitions. So I'm asking you to shed the inhibitions that you have placed upon yourself!
"I think I understand. But..." Desmond looks down at his skinny arms and chest. "...how can I follow my own path now, when I've strayed so far from it?"
I'll take care of that. Your body will be born anew, as if you had been keeping up with your strength training through adulthood. Consider it a one-time favor. All I ask in exchange is that you keep fighting for good and freedom. Strike down corruption and tyranny wherever you find it. And above all, do it YOUR way, not my way or anyone else's!
Desmond smiles. "I will. Thank you, Cayden."
Excellent. I'd love to chat longer, but I need to be going. I've got a date with Calistra! From the jovial tone of that statement, Desmond can't quite tell whether or not the drunken god is joking. He decides not to probe into his diety's personal life.
But before I go... A tankard suddenly appears in Desmond's hand, while Cayden raises his own. A toast, to your rebirth!
Desmond nods, raises his tankard - "Cheers!" - and takes a hearty swig. Then he starts feeling lightheaded again, and collapses on the bar...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
...and then he sits up, gasping for air. He looks confused for a moment, as if he had forgotten where he was. Once he stands up, everyone can immediately see that he has changed. His face is the same as always, but his body is much more muscular. He looks down at himself, flexes his arms a few times, and chuckles.
"Gentlemen, you won't believe this, but I just had a chat with my deity. I'm going to be doing things a little differently from now on, but rest assured that I'm still me. Actually, I'm even more 'me' than I've been in quite some time..."
He wades back toward the group. "But never mind all that! Why don't we help our goblin friends scout some more? I'm just itching to kill some demons."
Goblins will have a lot of weird stories to tell back in tuskkeep. In any case, which of the options above you advocate for?
"Clearing out the lizardfolk lair would be a good test run for this new body!"
"But first...this chain shirt doesn't really fit anymore. Sven, you wouldn't happen to still have that black iron armor on ya? I think that would fit me now."
Sven unstraps the Black iron armor from his pack and tosses it to Desmond.
" Welcome to the club. It's good armor, but too restrictive for how I need to fight now. Seems to sap a little of the Green's energy, and makes it hard to aim."
"I want to check out all of it, but the lizardfolk lair seems a good place to start."
While Desmond is putting on the black iron breastplate, he is surprised to note that his hands flash with holy light a few times. Then he notices that his wound from the crocodile's bite seems to be healing very quickly.
He looks pleased. "Well, well. I seem to be gaining more of Cayden's divine favor already."
"So, we're all agreed? Lizardfolk lair first?"
Ac +8
DR 1/Adamantine
Max dex +3
ACP -5
Fire and Acid resistance +5
You scout in the Lizardfork direction, walking through the mud and the vegetation. You detect a lizardfolk hiding at the distance (60 ft). His Scales are black and he is almost totally submerged in the water below the roots of a big three (cover). Considerer everywhere difficult terrain and for sure there are place where the water is deep.
His unusual color reminds Vendrick he has heard about this particular tribe.
These are the remains of the once proud Blackwing tribe. they were once the servants of a black dragon of some power, the Blackwing tribes sunk into decline and obscurity since the dragon was killed 3 years ago. the tribe dwells amid the splintered bones of their fallen lord under a muddy island surrounded by a crocodile infested lake.
The dragon was killed by the bonecrushers. You know, the most badass adventuring party in Ambervale. You once meet the Halfling. Normally Lizardfolk, though aggressive and territorial, are neutral. These ones are corrupted and are actively evil.
The bonecrushers could not retrieve the Dragon remainings. So, the bones, fangs and horns are still around and they are a nice ingredient for magic item creation.
Vendrick prods at Desmond with his staff and looks at him skeptically. He detects magic on the water and takes a small sample of the water in a vial.
"I'm fairly certain you may have hit your head on a rock under the water but you appear to be okay so we can table a more thorough physical until time allows."
I don't know what water are you analyzing but it's not magical.
I don't know what water are you analyzing but it's not magical.
Desmond chuckles snidely. "Think what you want, Ven, but I know what happened. It was divine intervention, plain and simple."
"Anyway, two questions: Do Lizardfolk speak Common, and does that one there know we can see him?"
"Lizardfolk are generally xenophobic and insular so the likelihood of any one lizardfolk knowing the Common tongue is unlikely."
"In any event, that tribe appears to be followers of a long dead black dragon. I do not think it will be willing to chat."
"Hmph. Leave it to the Bonecrushers to only do half a job and leave the rangers to clean it up."
Sven just points at the lizardperson.
"Hey. You. We can see you. Let's talk."
The lizardfolk submerges completely and get out of sight.
Gotcha. They'll work as the troop subtype.
So, the Lizardfolk went underwater, probably to report your presence to the rest of the tribe. The goblin might be stealthy, but it's not a good Idea to scout with some many of them . So, what do you do?
"Sven, master of diplomacy. I'll fly overhead and see if I can spot their tribal grounds." Vendrick then clicks his staff against the ground and pulls his cloak around him. It covers him completely and then pulls inward until there is a quiet rustle and feathered wings emerge.
A small owl takes his place and flies off into the sky.
"I guess the Green doesn't help you commune with lizard men."
Desmond trudges to the front of the party, keeping Vendrick in sight.
Vendricks enjoys the freedom of flight. The Lizardfolk's lair is In a long and low Hill, located the middle of a muddy, crocodile infested lake. Vendrick can see the entrances of what surely is a rambling half-sunken networks of caves and passages.
Vendrick can see the movement of a war band of Lizardfolk that direct toward the group. They try to use the water as a cover, only leaving water in the places where water is not deep enough.
The wizard information gathering gets interrupted when Vendricks spots a black, winged crocodile that fly in his direction.
- Luckily Vendrick can react when the crocodile is still 80 ft away from him.
I would think a dragon would be more discerning of it's partners.
Vendrick flies back down to his allies and reverts back to humanoid form.
"There appears to be a half-dragon crocodile flying in this direction along with a warband moving along the water. Their lair is also ahead, a half-sunken complex of caves."
I would think a dragon would be more discerning of it's partners.
"Did you see how many there were?"
- No clue, but more than 10 for sure.
"A flying dragon-croc, huh? I've gotta see this for myself."
With a self satisfied grin, Desmond starts hovering above the water.
"Here's my thought: Everyone who can fly, gang up on the croc. That thing is probably the biggest threat to our troops, so we should engage it before it gets close to the ground."
"Everyone else will have to make do against the lizardfolk, but we seem to have the numbers advantage. Maybe. If not, the flyers can provide reinforcements after the croc is dead, and showing the enemy how easily we killed such a strong monster might scare 'em off!"
"I cannot fight and fly effectively so I will remain with the army. The spells I prepared today are more well-suited to mass combat than greater foes as well."
