The Dark is Rising - WotW Part I (COMPLETED) (Inactive)

Game Master Darkness Rising

Etna's spell has no dramatic effect - the leader winces slightly at a sound only he can hear; in reply, he gestures and another elemental appears, this time next to Etna. It strikes at her, but fails to connect with its watery arms. Neither Erevan nor Felrin is able to inflict sufficient damage to be rid of their watery assailants; in return, both of the elementals land a solid hit against them.

Ottakar's longspear plunges deeply into the dolphin. It screams in distress, bleeding profusely, but somehow manages to cling to life for a while longer. Both dolphins continue their attempts to crush Tkaara against the side of the Frosthamar. They continue to be foiled as she makes no attempt to engage with them and instead focuses entirely on her own survival.

Two of the merfolk bide their time, waiting to see what the ogre does. As Grumblejack heeds Tkaara's call, doing his best to smash one of the dolphins to pulp (and succeeding: the ocean is suddenly littered with chunks of cetaceous blubber), the merfolk discard their crossbows and charge into Grumblejack's flank, wielding their tridents. He swipes at one of them as they approach, cutting it almost in two. In return one of them jabs its weapon into his side, opening a gash. The ogre grunts in a mix of pain and annoyance.

The other two merfolk continue shooting, this time at Etna, who has drawn the leader's attention with her spellcasting. They both miss, distracted by her combat with the elemental. The leader himself continues his chanting.

MAP LINK Round 4 is GO!

Erevan groans as the elemental's watery "fist" slams into him. Dazed momentarily, his retaliatory attack does not find its target, causing the hooded man to sigh in mild frustration.

Can Tkaara reach Felrin from where she is? Or is the distance too far?

RETCON

Etna's spell does not daze the leader, but it does cause him to lose concentration enough that his spell fails; an Elemental appears briefly next to Etna, before wavering and vanishing again.

Replacement Map

Knowing that Tkaara cannot hope to stay afloat indefinitely in her heavy mail, and also cannot attempt to climb safely back aboard with the cantankerous cetacean ramming her, Ottakar steps up and attempts to skewer the remaining dolphin.

Two alternative actions here depending on whether the Doctor took out the dolphin.

If the dolphin is dead.
Seeing the second fish skewered by the doctor's long spear, Tkaara grabs the side of the boat and pulls herself back up out of the water and onto the deck of the boat. Once on the deck, her eyes take on their (un)usual starfilled appearance. A moment later, tiny sparkles of light rain down upon the members of the party, causing their vision to sharpen and making the enemy appear to move ever so slightly slower and with more clarity.

If the dolphin is not dead.
Tkaara carefully swims back 5 feet at which point her eyes take on their starry appearance with the above referenced effect (Cast Bless).

Once again, the ifrit uses one of her companions' wish to empower her spell, once gain letting out an inaudible shriek to stun the leader of the merfolks.

Felrin lashes out viciously at the elemental before him, the ferocity of his attack made somewhat comical by the long, pale blue feather hanging off his foppish hat. With the creature defeated, he turns to assist Tkaara up the side of the boat, calling out, "I sure wish someone would take care of their leader, so we don't have to keep fighting his watery pets!"

Etna's spell again disrupts the leader's spell. He glares in fury, but chants no further. Instead, he gestures and his minions again fire their crossbows at her - they fly with accuracy and force, striking her hard.

Erevan cannot land a solid strike on his foe; by contrast, Felrin dismisses his opponent back to wherever it came from. Erevan takes a glancing hit from the elemental.

Ottakar's longspear aim improves with practice: the doctor surgically thrusts it into the eye of the remaining dolphin, killing it instantly. With the threat gone, Tkaara is able - with Felrin's assistance - to clamber back aboard, finding a safe space away from the fighting. She casts a spell in her unknowing way.

Neither of the merfolk battling Grumblejack is able to penetrate his armour or his tough hide; in return, the ogre pulps one of his opponents and grins at the other "You's next, fishy!"

MAP LINK Round 5 is GO!

As he is struck again, albeit not that forcefully, Erevan switches from a more aggressive stance to a neutral one, wanting to rely more on accuracy than force and land a hit on his foe, one that hopefully send it back to where it came from.

Erevan's attack is enough to kill the elemental.

The closer enemies dealt with, Ottakar moves back toward the stern, watching carefully for incoming bolts. When he gets closer to his prey, he removes another vial from his bandolier and downs the contents.

Round 5
About to draw her crossbow, Tkaara is suddenly overcome with an urge to reach out to the big ogre slugging away in the water. As she reaches out, it is as though the stars are pulled from the night sky, swirling down and about her hand before shifting to Grumblejack where they zip about his form before sinking into his wounds causing them to pull shut with a slight burning hiss and the faint smell of cauterized flesh.

As she does this, she calls out to the strange aquatic creatures.
The strong shall rule this land. Clearly you are not among the strong.

Gravely injured (and seeing that her attacks were having minimal effect), Etna decides to fall back where the rest of the group was.
Opting not to waste all of her spells in less than a minute, the ifrit prepares to hurl an orb of acid against the merfolk blocking Grumblejack's way.
I must confess that I'm quite curious to see how the Cornugon Bile fares in an actual fight...
Drawing upon the powers of the unholy object, Etna infuses her spell with the component: a strong scent of sulfur fills the air, as the fire-haired woman throws the empowered orb at the enemy.

With Tkaara safely aboard, Felrin scoops his bow off the deck where he was on watch, then hurries aft, commenting quietly to Tkaara as he passes, ”The strong should learn how to swim.”

Bow in hand, he reaches the midsection of the ship, ready to put some holes in the leader of the group.

DMD – please note Felrin is now only down 9 hp.

Erevan kills off the last elemental on the ship, while Ottakar and Felrin reposition. Etna's acid blasts a huge hole in the flesh of the merfolk, who cries out in pain.

Seeing their companion cut to ribbons by the ogre, the other two drop their crossbows and charge in with their tridents, attempting to overpower their enemy before he can retreat to the boat. As they come within reach of Grumblejack's oversized greatsword, he swings at one of them, but misses, barely.

Grumblejack looks gleeful at the prospect of a huge scrap. He shrugs one enormous shoulder at Tkaara in acknowledgement of her healing powers, which restore him to full health. And not before time: their combined blows do some significant damage and he roars in anger as the seawater around him is churned red with his blood. In reply, he swings his huge sword at his foes, cutting apart the acid-damaged fishman into chunks.

The merfolk leader hangs back and casts another spell. In reply to Tkaara's jibe, he responds "True strenggggth comes in doingggg what is right! The shiningggg sun has seen the evil in your hearts. And it will be the son who bringgggs your doom..."

MAP LINK Round 6 is GO!

"Fair enough," Erevan retorts, though since he does not actually raise his voice, it is a wonder if the merfolk actually hear him.

Regardless, the hooded man turns to look at the leader, his longbow at the ready. Yet, he does not fire immediately, but instead takes a moment to focus his gaze on the aquatic humanoid, as if perhaps trying to get a better look or aim. What he does, however, is draw on something within him, doing so almost instinctively, so easily and effortlessly that he is perhaps even a little surprised. In that moment, his golden eyes, partially concealed by his hood, change, as shadow and darkness fill them till no white or gold is visible, but only black. Similar to Tkaara's during her spellcasting, yet different as there are no stars, just void. And unlike the pale woman, his consciousness does not change, instead becoming even more focused. It lasts but seconds, if even that, and then they are back to how they usually appear.

There is a thin crooked smile forming on his lips as he lets loose an arrow. 'So that is how it feels.'

Unimpressed, Ottakar retrieves a vial of acid from his bag and hurls it at the preachy creature.

Round 6
Without pause upon seeing her large companion once more poked by the swimming creatures, Tkaara reaches out to the darkness of space, once more causing the stars to coalesce into Grumblejack's wounds, binding them shut with a sizzle.

That is because the sun is blind to what happens in the dark. One cannot rule half the time and the sun knows naught of shadow. Only those capable of working with and controlling darkness can truly be said to be able to control all.

Although not as effective as before, many of the ogre's wounds stop bleeding and appear as mere lacerations rather than the deep gouges there were before.

Felrin has noted how effectively Etna's spells have disrupted the self-righteous leader's own magic, and tries to do the same with his bow. He lifts the weapon and nocks an arrow, drawing it back slightly, ready to loose if the leader begins casting again.

Like Felrin, Etna prepares a greenish orb of acid, ready to hurl it at the Merfolk leader as soon as he started casting again.

Erevan's strike hits the leader, piercing the protection of his spell. He winces at the force and malice behind the strike, and goes to heal himself, only to be hit by Felrin's arrow, which disrupts his spellcasting. Ottakar's acid flask then burns right through his flesh, exposing his innards to the salt water. He screams, shockingly loudly, before his lungs fill with water and he drowns. Somehow, he finds the strength to whisper, again, as he dies "It will be ... the son... who bringgggggs ... your ... doom-"

Seeing their leader dead, the other two flee - straight downwards, out of Grumblejack's reach; although not before one of them is injured by Etna's acid spell. The ogre roars in a mixture of triumph and annoyance that two of them got away.

Combat is over! Lasted over half a minute - longest yet, I think!

When the merfolks retreat, Etna stops for a moment to catch her breath.
"What were they talking about? And what this about this son that will bring our doo-Ugh!" stopped abruptly by a sudden fit of pain, the ifrit stops talking for a moment as she clutches her wounds.
"A-anyway. Am I the only one that think we're not important enough for them to directly target us? I guess that if they've been reading the papers of the last months, they could think we're the most dangerous thing to happen to Talingrade in the last two centuries." the fire-haired woman cracks a smile. "If only half of the things they wrote was true, that is."
And in the case of the Doctor, I'm glad they aren't. Contrary to what you find written around, I hope-I'm sure that the chopping up of cadavers was only for research.

Know.(Local): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6 :(

As the Triton leader collapses and the other two flee, the exhaustion of the fight suddenly hits Tkaara as the adrenaline recedes. As it does so, she collapses to the deck gasping for air, her stringy muscles sore and drained.

After a few moments, she beckons to Etna, Erevan, the Doctor and Grumblejack once he is back on the ship.

I . . . I think I may have figured this healing thing out. I don't know why, but I believe I felt what happened that time.

Starting with herself, she reaches her hands out toward the night sky calling forth from the darkness of the heavens. A moment later, the now less uncommon, mites of light appear swirling about her hands from where they move to swirl about her body before sinking into her injured flesh with a sizzle and the slight smell of burnt flesh.

When she gets to the Doctor and Erevan and attempts the healing, she gets no response. Anyone looking at her notices that her usually haggard and pale appearance became even more so with each casting of a healing spell. After several more attempts, she looks up to the Doctor.

I don't know. I can feel the stars. But, I just don't have the strength to reach to them any more. Perhaps I will regain the strength after some rest.

With than, she lays back down on the ground, breathing deeply without the energy to even sit back up.

"The world is full of curious things. I should be interested to know the source of these mysterious powers of yours, barrister. In my experience, few gifts are without a commensurate cost."

The Doctor sees to his own healing, then bends down and scoops up the frail woman. He grunts in surprise at how light she is, even clad in mail. "Let's get you to a more appropriate resting place. Frauleine Etna, perhaps you would like to aid her in removing her armor so that she might rest better?"

After depositing Tkaara in a spare hammock, he returns to the deck and sits in quiet contemplation, enjoying the pale moon, the smell of the sea breeze, and ignoring the sounds of Grumblejack happily munching on raw dolphin.

Tkaara feels herself being moved, and murmurs a thanks, not realizing until the end that it was the Doctor doing the moving. Once out of her armor, she lies under the stars staring blankly at the sky and hoping that she is able to sleep through the usually brutal sea bound day to come.

Erevan sighs as he looks at the others healing and getting healed, though his exasperation is not entirely genuine and perhaps more than a little threatrical. He is wounded, yes, but unless there is more trouble, that should be rectified once Tkaara is rested. And as for the potions he has on him, he would prefer to keep them for when they are truly needed. Besides, despite the pain -he is sure the water elemental's strikes must have cracked a rib or two- he is quite content with how things went. Their foes have been vanquished and with not all that much effort, truth be told, at least considering that the merfolk and elementals not only outnumbered them, but were in their element as well. And not only that, but he got to test himself after... after what had happened.

"I will hold you to that, Lady Fiakben," he says with a smile and if anything is hidden behind his words, it is perhaps a hint of camaraderie.

After nodding to the Doctor, the ifrit helps Tkaara out of her armor, before helping the barrister to her hammock: as she does so, Etna can't help but glance at the barrister's sickly frame.
That can't be healthy...is it just an impression, or she's getting worse?
"At least you've been able to cast the spells out of your own will, Tkaara." Etna says, kneeling near the silver-haired woman "Just watch out not to overstep your boundaries. If this powers isn't directly under your control, like a sorcerer uses his or her blood, tapping into it too much without understanding of it could take an heavy toll on your body. You can't overthrow nations if you're dead, you know." the ifrit finishes with a smile. Even if (still) not with affection, the ifrit was talking to Tkaara with much more warmth than the last months.

Tkaara looks up at Etna as she lays in the hammock.
Thank you. If there is that heavy blanket, the sun is going to keep me from getting any rest.

Also, save some of that dolphin for me. I will prepare it when I get up. It looks tasty. After all, I am not dead yet and have no intention of dying.

As Tkaara heals most of the others, Felrin lays a hand on his own wounds, causing a brief crimson glow each time he heals himself. Feeling much better, he approaches to the captain and says, in a nearly simpering tone, "Well, that was unpleasant. I do believe I've damaged the feather in my hat! How fortunate that you and your crew were able to stand by and watch as we dealt with the attackers..."

He then turns away and walks to his resting place, curious whether any of the crew saw a spoiled fop tear opponents to pieces with his bare hands, and what they made of the sight.

Moonday 10 Neth

The Captain grunts at Felrin. "Heard we had a little local trouble last night. Glad you were up to handling it - that's what you're here for, after all."

However, the sailors (who saw most of it but decided to stay wrapped in their blankets) do treat you all with marginally more respect. No one bumps into Felrin any more, for example.

The weather has changed: yesterday was sunny, but the clouds today look ominous. In particular, there is a large black cloudbank dead ahead: North. It hits you just before lunch time, a squalling spray of horizontal rain and sleet. Wherever you try to shelter, you find it lashing across your face and back, trickling down the insides of your clothes. The only upside is that there's no sun, which seems to make Tkaara more cheerful.

The rain continues pretty much incessantly overnight, as well. The blankets aren't much use, but the sailors arrange a tarpaulin over the stern half of the deck. It thrums in the wind like a drum, but it does keep the worst of the rain off you while you sleep.

Knowledge (Local): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5

Nope...

Toilday 11 Neth to Sunday 23 Neth

The weather continues much as before as you continue your journey Northwards. The sun becomes a distant memory; you haven't been dry for an age. The proportion of sleet:rain is increasing, with occasional hail added into the mix for good measure - when the wind drives it at your face, it's like being punched.

The Captain is concerned about the bilges overflowing, and puts you on bucket duty. The water is rank and the work is endless, but at least in here you're out of the rain.

Although the days are far less harsh, resulting in Tkaara indeed being in a far less unpleasant state of mind, the work leaves her drained at best. While the strength of her wasting body is still something that would compete with most men, her endurance is at best limited. Thus, she assists with carrying the heavy loads and short periods of harder work, but then must rest to recover every few minutes. During this time, she begins to envision various ways to eliminated the hideous excuse for a man that comprises the Captain. She also dwells more and more upon the meaty sweet taste of the dolphin that she had when she awoke following the fight with the mermen. Admittedly it was at best rare, but it still had a taste far superior to that of even the delicacies served by the Cardinal.

Because of the problems she had with the armor, she decides to forego it for the time being. The reduction in weight makes it easier to move about the slippery wet deck of the ship, but gives her concern should the ship be attacked again.

Even with Tkaara's spell and her own Prestidigitation, the next days are absolutely horrible for Etna: resigned to try to dry her clothes up, her hair the color of wet coal, the ifrit's mood is even worse than before.
First the rain, then the sleet, and now I have to lift buckets like...like a commoner! I need an hot bath...

Moonday 24 Neth

The rain and sleet have slackened off a little, but the temperature has dropped sharply; the water on the tarpaulin regularly freezes overnight.

The Captain approaches you some point mid-morning - the sun is completely obscured by cloud, so determining exact timings is difficult. "We're low on drinking water - one of the casks has split." He spits. "Explains all the water in the bilges; not just the rain. None of these useless whoresons-" he indicates the sailors around him - "spotted it. Thankfully, we're nearing Seal Isle, where there's a spring. I won't lie, it's a little out of our way, but the upside is that we get to do some seal-hunting while I send an expedition off to collect the water. Shouldn't add more than 2 days to our journey, 3 at the most."

He pauses briefly to let you take this in. "Anyway, you turned out to be pretty good in a fight - interested in hunting some fur seals?" He gives an evil grin.

"I'm not really interested, no." Etna shrugs "I understand that we won't make to the end of the journey without water, but I'd prefer if we didn't spend time chasing furry mammalians."
And I really don't know who are we going to sell the furs to, in any case. Not that we have time to waste on such trivial matters, anyway.

Tkaara also shakes her head and coughs several times, apparently her persistent cold has returned with the adverse weather:
Unless you plan on hunting at night, cough I will pass. In addition, I think I have spent enough time swimming on this on this voyage already.

Erevan shrugs at the captain's proposition. "I have little interest in hunting." He smiles then. "Well, hunting seals anyway..."

Felrin, in the guise of a foppish, spoiled brat, makes a disgusted face at the notion of seal hunting. "Sounds abominable," he says, turning away from the captain, and boring as well. Wake me when you've made me a nice seal-fur hat."

Although his reasons for it are not what he says, Felrin has little interest in the proposal. He has had to spend some time in the wilds during his many years, but his life has generally been a very urban one, and he is more accustomed to the seal on a letter than a seal on an ice floe.

Moonday 24 Neth & Toilday 25 Neth

Captain Odenkirk sneers at you. "Thought not. Not a real man among you."

The rest of the day is spent tacking further away from the mainland: where you previously have been going almost due North, you are now heading Northeast. You reach Seal Isle later that day. It is a large piece of dark, volcanic rock that juts out of the ocean, perhaps half a mile in width. It is covered with a living carpet of fur and blubber.

Captain Odenkirk dispatches several of his crew to the freshwater spring in the centre of the isle and spends the rest of Moonday and most of Toilday hunting. Amid the slaughter, he manages to obtain nearly a dozen full pelts, which he gleefully brings back to the Frosthamar. Stretching them on frames around the deck, he laughs to himself. "The rich fools of the mainland will pay 50 gold for one of these!" Not bad pickings for maybe a day's labour.

When the crew returns, the Captain grumbles slightly but the Frosthamar leaves shortly after. Odenkirk casts a brief, longing look back as you move further North. "Maybe come back on the return voyage, do a proper job of it..."

Wealday 26 Neth

The temperature has plummeted even further. Odenkirk orders torches to be lit and placed around the edges of the ship: the charcoal brazier alone simply is not enough any more. Between the reek of the pitch and the smell of the seal pelts as they tan in the salt air, the smell on deck is sickening. Odenkirk and his crew don't appear to notice.

Ice can now be seen on the surface of the ocean; the Captain growls and reefs the sail to slow you down. He puts two of his men at the front of the boat, with long poles to fend of any chunks of ice that might get too close. You crawl along at less than half the speed you have been making, but there is nothing to be done about it. The only upside is that with the torches, Odenkirk is prepared to continue the journey after sundown; so your mileage per day is essentially what it has been. The crew do not appreciate having to work the extra hours, but there's nothing they can do about it: Odenkirk's rule is absolute.

As you journey further, a large landmass appears off the starboard bow. Odenkirk looks anxiously out towards it and points out a number of kayaks that are speeding towards you. "Lands of the Yutak. Bunch of savages in fur canoes. Sometimes they trade, sometimes they fight. Can never tell which."

Thankfully, this tribe (led by a young warrior proudly known as White Tusk) wants to trade. He explains - with the assistance of his medicine man, Joseph Calls-Fire-From-Water - that he recently took on the name after slaying a great narwhal. He and his tribe are looking to trade that horn, with other ivory, for useful goods such as metal. In particular, spears and fishooks.

As it turns out, the late Sir Balin's masterwork plate, together with his masterwork longsword and dagger, are exactly the quality of material they are looking for - and they have no regard whatsoever for the Alerion knight markings that are engraved on each. For the suit of armour alone, White Tusk is prepared to give you the narwhal horn: eight feet of magnificent spiralled ivory. The sword and dagger fetch you a large quantity of lesser, but still valuable, pieces.