The place you've landed may not live up to the lurid descriptions of earthly paradise you heard back in Absalom, but it is certainly a pleasant land. Inside the bay, the water is calm, and along the shore, sandy beaches give way to low scrub, with fingers of dense forest nearly reaching the water in places. The mouth of a small stream lies nearby, winding through a marsh, and less than a mile along the shore you see another stream.
Most of the passengers are desperate to be on land, and the sailors are rowing them over in the ship's boats. Though forest dominates the terrain in the area, it is broken by brackish ponds and salt marshes near the shore, and along the streams that cut between low ridges of higher ground. In the distance, rugged hills rise up under a thick blanket of trees.
Dot.
.
"the camp should be away from the swamps, who knows what diseases lurk within them."
"Yes, but we also need to be close to fresh water. One of the streams should work."
"agreed."
Cueta scans the bay and shoreline taking in as many details as possible; the ratio of deciduous trees to evergreens in the dense forest, the estimated height and density of the scrublands, the color of the sand, and the absence or presence of easily spotted wildlife. She strains her eyes especially looking for signs of birds, scanning the marshes and ponds to see if any cranes are fishing or bathing, and looking along the treeline for flocks. She licks a finger and holds in the air, judging air temperature and wind.
Gently setting Deeshka into a knotted pine rowboat, the Mwangi woman whistles for the dog Watcher and stands at the bow of the boat, both hands around her bill and watchful for dangers lurking in the water, while trying to observe the absence or presence of marine life, especially fish, crustaceans, coral and plant-life.
No matter where in the world, she thinks, inhaling the peculiar salty, brackish smell of this new world, and for the first time it seems in forever smiling, the best part of a voyage is the landing.
Gair steps from the boat slowly as it makes landfall, his son Bern somber beside him as they trudge onto the wet sand.
Touching the wolf's tooth pendant around his neck, the kellid closes his eyes breathes in the air of the new world, feeling the ground beneath his moccasins at long last. Exhaling he turns to the son at his side, "There will be time to make our offerings later for now there is work to be done. Many who have made it are southerners and farmers, they will need guidance."
He gestures to the gathering mass of settlers getting off the boats, "Do what you can to help make an accounting of those we have and what supplies have made it. Be patient with them, we are not alone in our loss..."
Adjusting the axe at his back, Gair makes his way to the more practical seeming few taking stock of the surrounding coastline. He nods at their conversation, "The far stream is not to far, once the landing is complete we will need to organize the strongest backs among our number to move the supplies."
Garrak begins to unload things from the boats, carefully moving crates marked with the seal of the Arcanamirium with the help of a raven haired half elven woman.
We also need to find an area we can safely set up camp. Something defensible. A few of us should scout the area.
Gair nods his head, "Agreed, a half dozen or so should be equal to the task. With no better knowledge the beach should serve for tonight."
He gestures to where the second stream empties into the bay a little less than a mile away, "I would set up there, away from this still water. We can set a group to fish the river."
As best Cueta is able to tell, the marshes are brackish. Though the bay is calm, it seems likely to have high tides, and fresh water won't be found for at least a mile or so upstream. There are plenty of waders (cranes, herons, etc) by the ponds and ducks that fly away as you come near.
To the best of your ability to judge, you're in the high 30s, lattitude-wise. Spring is well begun, and you expect a long, lush summer ahead.
Most of the other passengers have a spear or a crossbow for weapons, though the contingent of elves carry short bows and short swords, and Ingwe wears a massive falchion. The Taldan nobleman carries a bastard sword and has a suit of chainmail he carries in an ornate wooden chest, but he seems more interested in getting a shelter established than picking a fight. In fact, he has persuaded a couple of men to erect his rather lavish tent on the beach.
As Garrak looks around, he sees noble ordering the men to put of the tents.
"You there. Taldan. Move your tent, or it will be flooded. We need to move to higher ground or locate a more suitable site to camp. Then you can put up your tent.
Gair moves us beside the half-orc, talking to the nobleman, "You'll not want to set a tent yet anyway. Wait till the scouting party has found somewhere near fresh water. It shouldn't be too far from the beach. You'll not want to have to walk a dozen arrowflights or more to fetch fresh water. We don't yet know what lives in these forests."
He looks back at Garrack and Kal'Tos as others he's identified as capable, "We should send that party soon. These lands may hold the unknown but I have braved the dangers of the Mammoth Plains, I can survive this wilderness. Who will come with me?"
"I will go with you, give me a few moments to gather my kit."
Kal'Tos puts on his armour, straps on his shield and grabs his warhammer.
Cueta stops off near Ben's family, and puts up her tent. "Gwenydd, I need your help. Could you look after my friend Deeshka for a bit, and make sure that she is comfortable? I will be back shortly."
Commanding Watcher to "heel", Cueta makes her way over to the Kellid warrior that fought so valiantly on the Golden Pegasus, standing next to the two dwarven priests and the half-orc naturalist. "You all look as if you are up to something important. This is Watcher, and I'm Cueta. Can we help?"
"Nice tent!"
HP= 14/14
Status= Under effects of Ant Haul: Maximum carrying capacity 450lbs for 2 hours
0th - create water, light, purify food and drink
1st - animate rope(1), ant haul(1), ant haul (0)
Special Abilities-
Acid Dart(6)
Artificer’s Touch (6)
Channel Positive Energy (3)
Vallen looks down at the miniature pulley in his calloused hand, one of many he made for himself for this journey. He looks up as people around him, harrowed and eager to get to shore, pile into boats in a surprisingly ordered fashion.
It's time to get off this floating deathtrap and back to Torag's domain. His fingers gently close around the pulley as he mutters a prayer to Torag. "Grant me the strength to move so I may once again feel your earth beneath my feet." Shuddering as divine power sweeps through his muscles, he opens his hand to see the pulley gone, consumed in a holy white light.
The dwarf pushes himself off the deck with a great grunt, heaving as nearly three hundred pounds of gear, tools, and belongings clang about. He must have looked a mixture of impressive and ridiculous- his body was covered in a hemp rope harness; All of his belongings are tied to his form, including a boxy chest and iron pot, balanced out by an anvil tied directly to his stomach to evenly distribute the weight.
The look on the sailor's face as he stepped onto the boat would have been priceless, if he wasn't concentrating on not tripping and quickly setting the record for the fastest sinking dwarf on the new continent. Jarla and himself make their passing to the shore, causing him to eagerly hop out and proclaim with glee "Land! Thank you for this blessing Torag!" He takes a deep breath, exhales, and sees Kal'tos, a red-skinned man, the half-orc fellow he is still pretty sure is actually an orc, and the Talden nobleman all by a tent. "Though... it smells worse than Absalom here. Surely we're not setting camp."
Vallen trudges over to the gathering, his beard flipped over the top of the anvil, calling out. "Kal'tos!" He glances at Garrack and Gair, nodding. "...And others. What is going on here? I hope we're not staying on this beach, it smells like goblin piss. Salty goblin..." His gravely voice trials off as Cueta approaches, giving her a small bow of his head.
"Greetings Cueta. I am Vallen Silverclasp, a priest of Torag and sculptor of his earth." His arms fold over his chest, resting on his beard. "These fellows are up to some kind of plan, I see it in their eyes."
We are going to scout the immediate area, see if we can find a better place to camp for the night. Join us if you wish, but we should try to keep the party small.
Ben hops from the boat as its keel grinds on the sand of the beach. His brother Walton jumps down into the shallow water beside him. What do you think? he asks his older brother as they both stand looking at the forested hills of their new home.
It doesn't look too bad. A little soggy around here but I am sure there is dryer land somewhere. There is plenty of timber. We can build you a boat and get you back on the water fishing in no time. Ben says as he turns back to the boat and takes a bundle of his families belongings from his wife Gwenydd.
Neither of us know how to build a boat Ben. Walton replies as he also takes another bundle.
Details little brother! I will wager one of these bigguns knows something about it. Ben calls as he splashes off through the shallow water toward the beach. Besides all we have to do is keep trying until we get it right. It's not like we are short on timber.
Ben sets his bundle down on the dry sand and turns to go back to the boat for another load when Walton snaps at him. higher up you dunce! unless you want it all to wash away when the tide comes in. Walton trudges past with his load and deposits it on the sand above the high tide line. Ben picks up his own burden and puts it with his brothers. The two halflings return to the boat for another load. In a few moments all the families belongings are piled on the beach above the tide line and the brothers wives and children have been carried to dry land.
Jak and Jos Walton's twin boys immediately take off running down the beach with Walton in hot pursuit.
When Cuenta arrives with Deeshka, Ben helps her set up her tent and get the older halfing arranged comfortably inside. He leaves for a few moments to change in to dry breeches and gaiter, and by the time he comes back Walton gets back carrying his struggling twins.
Walton watch things here for a bit. He says to his brother I am going to go with Cuenta to find out what is going on. Ben slaps his brother on the back and embraces his wife and daughter before following Cuenta over to the small group of men and dwarves. Gair, Garrek, Kal'Tos, Vallen, whats going on?
Before joining the group Kal'Tos checks that his brother has made it to shore and has all their supplies stashed above the high water mark. He grabs his rope from his pack and throws it over his torso, so it is resting diagonally across his chest.
"You up for a bit of scouting work Ben? A small group of us is going to head out in a few minutes to look for a more permanent camp site."
Sounds like a good plan. Of course I will come along. Ben replies. He makes a quick check of his pouches to make sure everything is in its place.
Gair nods in greeting as Ceuta offers her assistance, "We mean to find a suitable location to lay our furs this night. Another pair of skilled keen eyes would be welcome."
He kneels down to Watcher, extending a hand for the hound to sniff before patting him on the shoulders.
Remaining he smiles faintly as Ben joins them, remaining on one knee, "Glad to see you and your clan have made it to shore safely Ben. This beach is no place for a camp, let us find a better one."
Edmund Thayer glares at Garrak and is about to say something unpleasant when Gair echoes the same information. He takes a deep breath and turns to the men who are setting up the tent.
"What's wrong with you idiots, did you want me to drown in the night? Over there!" He points to a higher spot atop a dune, well above the tide line.
"Thank you," a voice murmurs, too soft for Edmund to hear. It is Sandra, standing close beside you. "Your assistance will not be forgotten."
Gwenydd Sandlock uses a cloak and a bit of driftwood to shade Deeshka, the best that anyone can do for now, and sends Shalla to try to find safe water.
Horn'Tos nods to his brother, and begins arranging their things in the best way he can think.
Sorala Tharn, Garrak's half-elf wife, joins Shalla in her search for fresh water, and Jarla Silverclasp finds herself talking with the Thayers. Bern Hearthseeker frowns at being put to work counting beans when he'd rather be exploring and having adventures, but he obeys.
Standing, Gair inclines his head to Sandra, "You should tell your father to leave the tent until the scouts have found a proper site. This fetid marsh is no place for a camp..."
If we are all ready, then we should be off.
He gives his supplies to an assistant, but keeps his falchion, whip, shortbow, arrows, rope, waterskin, and a couple of rations. He kisses his wife good bye, then waits for the others to be ready for the trek.
HP= 14/14
Status= Under effects of Ant Haul: Maximum carrying capacity 450lbs for 2 hours
Ammunition- 20 crossbow bolts
Spells:
0th - create water, light, purify food and drink
1st - animate rope(1), ant haul(1), ant haul (0)
Special Abilities-
Acid Dart(6)
Artificer’s Touch (6)
Channel Positive Energy (3)
"Ah, we're going exploring? In that case I will come along, I want to see if the paradise they promised is somewhere in that forest." The dwarf waddles through the sand and mud, briefly interrupting Jarla to explain the situation. He discusses with her where they are going to put their belongings, and deposits them where instructed.
Vallen returns a bit later, carrying considerably less things. His crossbow rests next to his holy text at his hip, warhammer on the other side, with shield and backpack on his back. He claps Kal'tos on the shoulder when he re-joins the group. "Ready. We should follow the river upstream and see where it leads."
Before setting out, Gair finds Bern in the mass of people talking to a pair of settlers who have the look of men who know how to use the swords at their belts. He takes the boy aside for a moment, "I will be back soon. We're going to scout for dryer land to build our fires. Stay here for now. In a day or two I we will go hunting you and I, my oath on it."
Leaving the more than likely annoyed young man, Gair makes his way back to the others, unfastening the sling he made from a torn sail and nodding to his five companions, ready to depart.
** spoiler omitted **
** spoiler omitted **
"Ah, we're going exploring? In that case I will come along, I want to see if the paradise they promised is somewhere in that forest." The dwarf waddles through the sand and mud, briefly interrupting Jarla to explain the situation. He discusses with her where they are going to put their belongings, and deposits them where instructed.
Vallen returns a bit later, carrying considerably less things. His crossbow rests next to his holy text at his hip, warhammer on the other side, with shield and backpack on his back. He claps Kal'tos on the shoulder when he re-joins the group. "Ready. We should follow the river upstream and see where it leads."
"staying with the river is a good idea. We need to get to the point where it is fresh water. It will also reduce the chances of losing our bearings."
Once everyone looks ready Kal'Tos will start heading upriver.
Cueta turns to Ben and says, "Thank you for your and your family's assistance - in my childhood, I grew up in an area not too different than this, and it was necessary for all of us to work together to survive. People traded favors just like they did shell jewelry and fish. Please don't hesitate to ask if there is something I can do for you or yours.
We are going to scout the immediate area, see if we can find a better place to camp for the night. Join us if you wish, but we should try to keep the party small.
Of course, Mage! Luckily, I used to lead expeditions into the Mwangi jungle to collect fresh water and food for our ship. I think you'll find me worth the company!
"Greetings Cueta. I am Vallen Silverclasp, a priest of Torag and sculptor of his earth." His arms fold over his chest, resting on his beard. "These fellows are up to some kind of plan, I see it in their eyes."
It is nice to meet you, good priest Silverclasp. Cueta gives her best imitation of a Chelaxian curtsy. As they walk along the riverbank, she sticks close to the Dwarf, and noting that he is stuggling in the mud, does her best to point out good places to step. Vallen, I'm afraid I must ask your advice. My friend, she has a sickness, and I'm no healer. She sleeps fitfully most of the day, only waking on occasion in a delirium. She seems to be running a fever as well, perhaps from the injuries she suffered when the Pegasus went down. Could I ask for your assistance when we get back, to give her a look over?
Well we all seem ready to go now. Let's set off.
Garrak starts walking down the banks of the stream.
Cueta gives her best imitation of a Chelaxian curtsy. As they walk along the riverbank, she sticks close to the Dwarf, and noting that he is stuggling in the mud, does her best to point out good places to step. Could I ask for your assistance when we get back, to give her a look over?
The priest bows a little lower in response to her curtsy, appreciating the respect.
As they make their way along the riverbank, Vallen indeed struggles to cope with the unfamiliar terrain. Curses and oaths against the foul, sucking mud can be heard under his breath, his troubles expedited by attempting to not touch anything. Every bit of assistance from Cueta and the others are met with profuse thanks.
While intently listening to Cueta, he steps directly into a brackish puddle, his boot sinking into it. "For the love of... Ah.. Yes of course, I will tend to your friend at once when we return to shore. I will think on her plight and we will come up with a remedy. Failing that, I will beseech Torag to reveal the disease to us. Hrrrgh! Pulling with his foot wasn't working, causing him to wrap fingers around the boot flaps and jerk it out with a pop. "Ugh.. disgusting."
As they are getting ready to leave Ben looks back towards his family and sees Gwenydd and Walton busily building a better shelter for Deeshka and themselves in a hollow between some dunes.
Don't worry about your friend Cuenta. Gwenydd and Walton will take good care of her. he says to the dark skinned woman. Ben turns and starts after Garrak.
Hey wait up! My legs aren`t as long as yours are.
Kal'Tos moves with surprising speed for a dwarf. While he is walking he is assessing the area for edible plants or animal tracks.
Survival
Gair takes point as they walk, moving with the ease of a practiced hunter, taking care to note sign of any recognizable game he might encounter and watching for threats or anything of note.
As the group moves farther up the riverbank, Cueta slides into place behind Gair, crouched into a wary posture, her bill held in front of her as her she twists her torso back and forth to slowly and surely gain a maximum field of vision, keeping her eyes open for danger, but also for game trails and tracks. Surely, if there is game to be hunted in these lands it makes its way to the river.
"I've been thinking about the Harpy," she says, in a loud whisper. "Once the storm hit, I'm pretty sure that the ship was lost on the rocks where the bay meets the open sea. By longboat, in good weather, she should be reachable pretty easily, in a day or so. Perhaps if we find put our heads together we can plot out how far the trip would be."
Gair takes his eyes from the trees as Ceuta's words, a pained expression on his face, "My mind has been on the voyage as well. I am loath to think on it more but you are correct, the wreckage of the Harpy would prove a great boon to us..."
Had adds what he remembers of the night she struck the rocks and anything he remembers of the shore they might have seen near where she went down.
Garrak stays near the rear, watching out for danger. On his shoulder, his weasel familar stands watch.
It would be a boon, if any of its supplies survived the rocks. They are no good to us at the bottom of an ocean.
Ben watches along the stream for edible plants like Watercress, water pepper, water chesnuts, cattails,and Bulrushes.
My brother is a fisherman, if the Harpy's long boat survived the wreck I am sure he could use it to catch something out on the bay. Fish could go a long way towards keeping us fed while we wait for crops to grow. He says to the others when they mention the Harpy.
Cueta and Kal'tos are able to find plenty of food as you explore the area nearest the landing site. There are edible leaves and flowers, a few early nuts, and wild roots in plenty. You notice a few likely fishing spots, and in the muddy spots near the stream you see tracks of a variety of small animals and birds. There is no shortage of food to be had, though feeding 100 people will strip the land quickly enough.
Several spots present themselves as potentially good campsites. The land rolls gently, but generally slopes up from the shoreline, so the salty ponds and marshes have disappeared completely by the time you've moved a mile or so inland. The streams here flow fresh and clear over rocky beds, and in many places, the trees are so ancient that there is very little undergrowth.
One place in particular is within a bowshot of the bay, roughly a mile downshore from your current landing. A shoulder of high land pushes between marshes on either side, and has a fresh spring that bubbles up and flows quickly down to shore. The only potential downside you see is the fresh carcass of a huge elk by the spring. Though the water flow is strong enough you don't fear disease, something killed it, something that opened its belly in a ragged wound that smells of toxins, and something has cut off its hind legs, sawing through the muscle and bone, and dragging them away to the north.
Aside from the dead animal in the spring, this is a nice spot. Ben says when arrive at the shoulder. Not to far from the bay, plenty of fresh water, and we don't have to carry everything too far. . . Do you think we can salvage any of that elk?
Ben approaches the carcass to see if any of it can be salvaged. He lays his hand on the carcass.
This is still warm! He says to the others. It couldn't have been killed more than a few hours ago.
He looks around at the nearby trees evaluating how quickly he can reach one and go up it. If I brought Gwenydd, and Sira here just to get eaten Gwenydd is going to kill me.
Gair studies the corpse carefully, sniffing the wounds tentatively, "This seems much the way an ant harvests their prey but obviously far large. I have heard stories of great hills where the insects grow as large as a man. This does not bode well. We should track the creature to ensure there is not a hive nearby."
Standing, Gair fishes a sling bullet from the pouch at his waist, "Lets move quickly, the trail seems easy enough to follow."
Kal'Tos double checks his gear before following the others along the trail.
Garrak speaks a few words in Draconic and gestures with his hand. A translucent force barrier appears around him.
Yes, this is a giant ant kill. Best be careful. When there is one, there are bound to be a multitude of others.
HP= 14/14
Status= Normal
Ammunition- 20 crossbow bolts
Spells-
0th - create water, light, purify food and drink
1st - animate rope(1), ant haul(1), ant haul (0)
Special Abilities-
Acid Dart(6)
Artificer’s Touch (6)
Channel Positive Energy (3)
Vallen is incredibly relieved as the land slopes upward out of the marsh, and he sticks to the solid ground. He stops for a moment to admire the rocky streams, considering he may inspect the local rocks for alluvial deposits or pan for gold later.
The dwarf spots in his tracks when he sees the dead elk, hesitating as the others go forward.
"Aye Ben... the blood has barely had a chance to dry. Whatever killed this will likely be back for a second helping."
He cautiously approaches the dead beast, listening to Gair. "An ant?! It takes a pack of wolves to kill an elk like this where I'm from, and you're telling me ants did this?" The priest shifts nervously about, looking at the forest bed.
"I don't like this. What if there is a hive, and we're walking right into it? We'd just be bringing two servings of dwarf and human and orc with a halfling appetizer! Why, we'd be throwing them a veritable banquet." Flustered, he huffs and crosses his arms. A moment passes before he realizes he's being unreasonable, given the circumstances. Vallen clears his throat sheepishly. "Sorry, Ben, you'd definitely make a whole meal, I didn't mean that."
"come Vallen, let it not be said that the dwarven priest was the one who held back. Just think of it as a wolf hunt. No matter where we camp around here these unnatural beasts will be a threat. Better to purge them now then after they have attacked others."
Gair gives a small shake of his, "Like any ant colony, there are often scouts sent far from the hive. If there is a hive nearby, we need to know. Our camp would need to be moved far away from their territory."
Cueta kneels at the elk's corpse to examine it, and suddenly closes her eyes and mutters, "Umama ka izilo, asinikeze amandla sinqobe izinsongo kuleli zwe eziyinqaba, njengoba supplicants, sinikeza wena ngokuphila lokhu kwesilo ukwenza lokho ofisa, emazweni zakho phansi ngezansi. Umama ka izilo, asivikele!"
"If time weren't so important, I'd say we lay an ambush for the beast here by the corpse, but we only have so much time before the Lillend leaves us. I think we should track this beast to its layer and deal with it there. Hopefully it will be fat and happy from its feast on this elk!"
You set off along the trail of the ants. It is a zigzag trail that seems to have no respect whatsoever for the landscape, often pushing through thick brush or other obstacles within a few steps of much easier terrain. This makes it easier to catch up, and within a half an hour, you hear rustling ahead. A moment later, you glimpse two of them. They are the size of ponies, thickly armored, and it is clear that their mandibles are more than capable of cutting the elk. They drag the legs along, awkwardly, and you see that they are both injured. One has two legs that are twisted and dragging behind it, and the other's head has been partially crushed, it's antennae snapped off.
When you first spot them, they are 50 feet away. The forest provides partial concealment (20% miss chance) at this range. They show no signs of having spotted you.