The Golden Pegasus

Game Master Sai Ling

"the gash from that blow may scare Zik, but no matter ladies love scars, especially when there is a great story to go with it. "

My roll for convincing people to build a farm, pretend it's at the end of my speech

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19

Also a note that when the serious discussion is finished, Vallen is going to bring up that their new town should have a name, and will suggest Newspring.

Vallen should go ahead. At this point there's nobody else left who wants to speak.

Sandra sees Vallen looking as if he has more to say, and after holding the stick up for anyone else, she hands it to him.

@ Cueta. Definitely male, once you look under the hides. Other than the scars on his body, many of which seem like ritual scars rather than battle scars, there is nothing to identify him.

Salvagers:

You have one stone dagger, two stone throwing axes, a hide shirt of questionable taste, and a necklace of what appear to be fingerbones on a leather cord.

Vallen takes the speaking stick, clearing his throat once more."There is one more matter that everyone needs to decide. If we are going to live in this place, what are we to call it? When we make our first map of the surrounding area, what will the dot at the center of our world be? I propose we call this place Newspring- for just as the season spring surrounds us with new life and the spring water keeps our life going, we too begin a new life here and will continue it here."

He pauses for a moment, holding the speaking stick out. "Who else would suggest a name for our new beginning and future?" The soft orange light dances off of his gleaming eyes. No matter what this place is called, it's home for now.

Ben stabs his rapier through one of the creatures eyes into its brain to make sure it is dead before following Kal'Tos back to the camp fire. He helps get Zik calmed down while kal'tos works his healing magic. Grumbling about how Gwenydd is going to kill him for ruining his shirt he gathers up his belongings.

I am going to go sleep in the boat. He declares and marches off to the longboat.

In the morning he helps hide the signs of their presence on the beach and load the corpse of the shark toothed thing on the boat.
Zik you should keep that stone dagger. It is a bit big for your hands, and it isn't as durable as a steel one but it is plenty sharp.

profession(sailor)aid Cueta: 1d20 ⇒ 19

Gair offers no further suggestions, throwing in his vote for the name Newspring.

Diplomacy roll, Inspired :
Diplomacy - Foragers 1: 1d20 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 1 + 2 = 16
Diplomacy - Foragers 2: 1d20 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 1 + 2 = 20

Newspring:

A long time passes before it is clear that nobody will object to the name Newspring. Just when the moment seems right to declare victory, Hassan stands, holding his hand out for the speaking stick. Taking it from Vallen, he stands before the gathering and looks a bit embarrassed. He frowns for a moment before he speaks.

"I think Newspring is a fine name," he says. "I think we all do. I guess someone would have said something if they didn't...."

"I like having this meeting, asking the blessing of the gods and spirits, talking things through like this," he says, and then takes a deep breath. "But if something happens, if more ants come, we can't have a meeting to decide what to do. If we're attacked, there won't be time for this." He holds up the speaking stick.

"We need a plan for what to do if things go bad, and if it comes to a fight, I'd want to know who's in command." He shuffles his feet, nervously. "If this place isn't safe for any reason, I'd suggest we try to regroup where we spent that first night, where the ship's anchored now. We all know where it is, it's close enough to reach but not too close."

"As for a leader," he says. "There's a few of us we know are good in a fight already, they fought the ants. I'd take any one of them, except for one thing. We need someone who will be here, not out there, foraging and exploring and such. I think we need them out there, finding the dangers before it reaches us."

"I've fought in a couple of battles, and I know which end of a sword to hold." He shrugs. "I don't know if I'm the best man for the job, or if anyone else even wants it, but I do know is battles that should be won get lost when there's no one in command."

Salvage:

The rest of the night passes uneventfully. Dawn comes early, the skies bloodred, clouds piling up high.

Gair nods repeatedly as Hassan speaks, he raises an eyebrow in Vallen's direction, inquiring as to his position.

The dwarf is rather surprised when no one objects to the name he made up, and after such a long pause is a little startled when Hassan gestures for the speaking stick. Sheepishly, he hands the stick to Hassan, sitting back down.

Listening to the man's speech with his hands crossed in his lap, the dwarf turns his head to Gair. Giving a bit of a shrug and a nod to the Kellid, he offers no objections. Better than no one, that's for sure. Better than me!

Red sky in morning, sailor take warning!

Gair nods to Vallen and then to Hassan, if no one has come forward after a few moments, he risks a few words, "Hassan has been organizing our more able bodied already, I can think of no one better for the position."

Kal'Tos will aid Cueta in getting to the wreck.

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12

"We should take the axes too, they may not be awesome, but tools are tools right now."

Anything else to add to the meeting, or are the Newspringer's ready to jump into day 4?

Salvagers:

Starting early, and rowing into the red, rising sun, the rowers make good time reaching the wreck. Zik is silent, constantly scanning the horizon, and his hand frequently goes to check the stone dagger at his belt.

Playing it safe (taking 10 with Ben and Kal'Tos aiding) Cueta brings the boat up against the wreck. Much of the hull is intact, though in two sections. The keel is snapped in half, and though many of the stores in the hold are waterlogged, there are a few sacks of seed that can be saved, and a great deal of wood and metal could be salvaged, given time. (Anyone generating goods here will get a +5 on their rolls until 10 goods have been salvaged from the wreck. Of course, then you have to move it)

A hopeful sign is that only one dead body can be found, a sailor whose leg is hopelessly pinned between the rocks and the ship's hull. He has been partially eaten, but the gulls and the crabs were thick on him when you arrived.

Can I get TWO perception rolls from my salvagers, please?

perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17
perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

Cueta surveys the wreck and turns to Kal'Tos and Ben. "Any idea if this ship is stable? I think we're going to have to come back and break much of this up, a long-term project for sure. I'm not wild about the idea of camping on shore."

I'm a little confused about generating goods - so I can make a craft (carpentry) check for example, spending a day to earn goods? Do I have to pay gold to do so? So, we'll need to come back and spend some time working the site and can get 10 goods from it.

Sorry for confusion ... You have in right, though, this would be another case where the goods would be earned without a gp charge. They'd have to be moved, which will present challenges, naturally. Unless you use them to build a lighthouse on these rocks....

perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20
perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21

Ben specifically looks to see if there are any tents on board and then check the sail locker for the extra sails.

Perception 1 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18

Perception 2 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9

As soon as they get on the first section Kal'Tos will cast ant haul on himself and Cueta. He will focus on seed and food first. followed by checking the captain's cabin for anything of value (charts, logs, bags of money, etc). Once he is done in the captain's cabin he will focus on tools, then sails, then other metal in that order.

With all who wish having been given the chance to speak and the settlers have more or less backed one idea or another, Gair urges them all to gather in their respective groups and organize themselves for tomorrow.

Meeting with Bern, Kyle and the others interested in foraging, the kellid warrior sets the twenty men and women into a number of small groups, each with at least one decently armed member amongst each. The arrangements settled, he bids them a good night, "Sleep soundly, dawn will come all to quickly, I assure you."

Once everyone has departed, Gair goes with Bern to their furs and offering a prayer to the Wold Pack, he crawls within and is soon fast asleep.

I'm all set, the morning awaits!

Kal'Tos - might hold off on the spell, the boat will limit what you can carry more than yorselves.

Aside from a locker with six cutlasses, there is little left in the captain's cabin. The sailcloth, too, seems to have been taken away. It's Ben who looks towards shore and sees, in a cove not too different from the one where you spent the night, two longboats similar to yours pulled up on the beach.

He also is the one who sees two long outrigger canoes gliding through teh water near shore, a half-dozen humanoids paddling hard on each, heading east.

I will hold off then.

Assuming Ben tells us about both things.

"we can hold off checking the boats on shore until after we have gotten what we need from the ship."

where are the guys rowing in relation to us?

Vallen breathes a sigh of relief as the meeting is finished, both for the fact it is over and the fact they accomplished so much. Walking back to their makeshift camp, he speaks to Jarla. "I'm surprised at how much we accomplished at that meeting. Grundinnar must have been watching over that meeting..."

He outlines his plans to his sister- In the morning he will make rounds treating the injured and sick, with his first stop giving Deeshka and that sailor some herbal tea to help with the malaria. He asks her help in recruit a team of carpenters to assist with all the woodworking in Newspring, if she could spend the day asking around and getting some organization going.

After thoroughly cleaning his hands (that speaking stick was questionable...) he turns in for the night.

Ready for day 5 in Newspring!

Is it really day 5?

Canoes between you and the shore, but heading east, away from you, the cove with the longboats, and the entrance to your bay. Assuming Ben tells you.

Blast and avast! It seems as if there were survivors, and they left the ship. Now we'll have to search the coastline looking for them!

Cueta will search the ship, up and down, taking a note of everything we can get before beginning to load up the ship. She'll also search the sailor's body, and she'll keep an eye out for loose salvage materials like wood planks or beams - anything that can be easily loaded into the boat if we don't find enough else to fill it. She's also keen to find some writing materials, so she'll linger in the captain's cabin and anywhere else she thinks there might be some. So far we have:

perception, ship searching: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21

A little food, a few seeds, 6 cutlasses.

After checking the sail locker and finding it empty Ben returns to the deck of the ship and looks toward the shore. someone took the sails. that means someone made it off the ship, but where did they go? He thinks to himself as he squints at he shore. Scanning the coastline for some sign of where the survivors went. He sees two longboats beached in a small cove. As he opens his mouth to shout to the others a flicker of movement catches his eye and he sees the canoes. Realizing that the canoes are headed away from them Ben marks which direction they were headed and then hurries to tell the others.

There are two longboats beached in a cove not far from here. Someone made it safely off the ship and I will bet they are the ones that took everything. He says excitedly to the others. I also saw two small boats with about a dozen of some sort of natives in them heading east.

"we can hold off checking the boats on shore until after we have gotten what we need from the ship."

There's nothing on the ship but a couple bags of seeds and a few cutlasses. The survivors took everything else. We agreed that survivors were the priority we should go check on them. there maybe some hurt in need of your help Kal'Tos.

kowledge engineering: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22 to determine if the wreck is stable.

The wreck is stable enough for the moment, though it's hard to guess what the storm will do. When the waves lift it up, it'll bash itself to pieces, eventually, but your guess is it'll last out another storm like the one that put it here. If the waves get high enough to lift it off the rocks, it'll be at the mercy of the storm.

You load the sacks of seeds and the weapons onto the longboat. Before long, the canoes are out of sight, up the coast. That puts us at around 8am. Four more hours til the storm hits. The cove with the longboats is closer than last night's, maybe 15 minutes rowing.

"Good eyes, Ben! I was worried we'd be wending our way up and down this blasted coast. There is, however, always the chance that the people in the canoes aren't our people. We should use caution in our approach, or perhaps make our way to the top of the cliffs surrounding that beach and survey the situation."

I doubt they made a couple of canoes in 4 days. Were there canoes on the Lillend? Cueta, having worked on the Pegasus, would probably know if there were canoes on that ship.

What I wouldn't do for a spyglass!

Newspring:

Everyone settles in for the night, Edmund's guards and the elves arrange watches among them. As the sun comes up in a crimson sky, people rise and slowly stir themselves to start their day with a bite of ship's biscuit saved from the night before, or a drink from the spring. What little remains of morning routines is broken early by a frightened scream.

Gwenydd Sandlock had risen to fetch water for her sick charges. When she returned, she found the sailor dead. The sickness had not been enough to kill him, though. His throat has been cut.

Definitely no canoes of this kind anywhere in the fleet that set out from Absalom. Once Ben points them out, Cueta recognizes them as similar to the kinds used by primitive tribes in the fever sea.

Cueta squints into the shoreline, watching the canoes recede to the east. "Those canoes could not be built since we landed four days back, and no canoes were in the fleet to my knowledge. I suggest we take the longboat to the west, make our way a mile or so down the coast, and then, under the cover of the storm, get close and see what is going on. Those longobats, and the Harpy's supplies and people, could now be kept by the shark-tooths."

If the others agree, Cueta will take 10 on her profession check.

Gwenydd Sandlock had risen to fetch water for her sick charges. When she returned, she found the sailor dead. The sickness had not been enough to kill him, though. His throat has been cut.

Oh crap!

Turning away from the foraging parties he was in the middle of organizing, Gair head whips around as the scream rips through the camp. Ripping the large axe from his back, Gair sets out running in the direction of the scream, calling behind him, "Bern, to me!"

Finding the distraught halfling surrounded by a small but quickly growing crowd, he raises his voice to be heard, "Move back, move back. Give her some space. He is on his way to her when he notices the pool of blood around the dead sailor. Staring for a moment he whips his attention back to Gwenydd, his face full of concern and a measure of anger, [b]"What has happened here? Did you find him like this? Who was attending them this evening?"

"I saw him last night at midnight, he was sick, but alive," Gwenydd says, a hair defensively. "I woke to bring them water and when I returned, he was like this. I was barely twenty feet away the whole night." Her shelter is, as she said, barely 20 feet away, and Deeshka, who spent the night beside the man, is too lost in her fever to be intelligible.

Once they are back in the boat Kal'Tos will assist Cueta in getting to the location as soon is safe.

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13

Gair searches among the faces of those gathered for any of those who stood watch during the period in question, "Did you see anyone moving around the camp in the dead of night? What about you Gwenydd, nothing?"

He addresses Vallen once the dwarf arrives on the scene, or Ingwe if he is first, "Can you tell how long ago this was done?"

I think skulking around is a waste of time, but I will go along with your plan. lets move quickly though. Ben says as they load the boat with the items they found. I looked around the wreck and as far as I can tell it's stable enough that we can come back and get more salvage later. Of course this storm Cueta is talking about could change that.

Carefully, Cueta steers the boat to the west away from the camp and canoes, keeping her eye to the shoreline for a good place to beach that won't be noticable to the camp. "Look at the land as we go - if we can pick out a route to scout the camp before we're on land, the better."

perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19

perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10

I can't see any from here.

Assuming that the salvagers make it to land safely, we'll try and hide the boat from view from the water if possible. I'll ask Watcher to stay by the boat, and try to find Zik a good spot to hide, leaving him with some rations and water.

"Zik, we need you to stay here and watch the boat and shore for us. It is very important that you keep your eyes open and observant for everything. If anyone comes through, do not make yourself known. Try to take notes in your head - how many come through, what they do, what they look like, and if they carry weapons. Oh, and most importantly, where they head off to."

stealth aid Zik: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24
stealth aid Kal'Tos: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24
stealth roll for Cueata: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25
perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

Doubling back to the boat, Cueta strips the creature in the boat of its skins, and puts them on, gagging a little during the process, and looks to the sky. Storms back in the Shackles were usually short and powerful, but the rainy season here seems to be a bit different, with longer, more sustained gales.

survival storm assessment: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22

Perception after landing

1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9

stealth

1d20 - 6 ⇒ (15) - 6 = 9 Dwarves in armour are super stealthly

"Hopefully we don't have to fight for our stuff"

"Hopefully we don't have to fight for our stuff"

"If there are many of those creatures, I don't think it is a fight we can win. In such a case I think we should wait for the storm and try to surreptitiously free who we can and get the hells back to Newspring."

Vallen was making preparations for the morning service to Torag when he hears the scream. Startled, he looks to the source and peers towards it. Swallowing down the knot that had formed in his throat, he grabs his warhammer and rushes over. Thudding his way up to Gair, he says between pants.. "Gair.. what... oh Droskar's Balls what happpened?! No!" The dwarf exclaims, dropping to the ground to see if there was any life left in the man, but he lets out a ferocious growl of frustration at the sign of his slit throat. "I was going to finish preparing the herbs today! I was going to save him! Who did this?!" Irate, he stands up, snarling at the dead man and white-knuckling his warhammer.

His mind races. Ingwe? Did he notice the man had malaria and offed him to prevent its spread? Then why is Deeshka here? A ritual? Why would anyone want this sailor dead? Who did he know? Did Cueta know him? She said nothing.

Glancing at Deeshka, the dwarf swears. "I was going to beseech Torag today for a spell that would suppress their conditions, so I could have them drink a proper dose of medicine, but I did not want them to be calm for 10 minutes and then know they were going to slip back into the fevers! It was too cruel! But now... Perhaps Deeshka could help us... I have not prayed yet today." He swallows, exhaling loudly and trying to calm himself.

His head swivels to the dead sailor so quickly his beard nearly whips Gair in the chest, before kneeling down and looking him over to determine the cause of death, time of death or anything suspicious.

Heal: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

Salvage:

You land about a mile west of the other longboats. The beach here is wide, and instead of being surrounded by cliffs, a small river empties into the ocean here. A valley roughly a half mile across cuts the relatively high plateau, but the sides slope gently up away, making for easier walking.

The river is too narrow to navigate the longboat up, but a smaller, one man craft could manage what you can see of it as you drag the boat up on the beach. Once over the first row of dunes, the boat is hidden from the water, and Cueta looks hideous in her new armor.

Zik hides himself in some bushes by the banks of the stream, eyes wide and frightened. He nods at your instructions and hunkers down. Watcher stays by the boat, in sight of the gnome, tense from the energy of the gathering storm.

zik stealth: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21

"If you find my parents, will you warn them about this, before they see me?" Zik asks, pointing to the ragged scar bisecting his face.

Cueta, let me get a handle animal roll for Watcher to stay put during the storm, in case you don't make it back before it starts.

At a 20' move through difficult terrain, which this definitely is, it'll take you an hour if you walk to the other boats, half an hour if you hustle, two hours if you try to sneak the whole way.... And you'll need a DC 16 survival roll to not get lost, doubling your travel time.

Newspring:

"Don't you think I'd have said something if I had seen anything?" Gwenydd snaps at Gair. The people on watch look shocked and ashamed, but they just shake their heads. They saw nothing.

When Vallen arrives a moment later, she turns to him. "No, I didn't see anything, so don't ask!" she says, scowling viciously, and then walks off. Shalla is beside her a moment later, an arm around her shoulders, whispering calming words.

Vallen determines the man died of a slit throat. The cut was deep, nearly to the bone, and clean, as from a swift, sure slice. To the best of his ability to tell, it happened sometime after midnight, but not within the past hour or two. It would have been nearly instantaneous, and from the blood around his lips, but nowhere else on his face, you'd guess his mouth was covered when it happened.

"What the devil's going on?" shouts Edmund Thayer, fully armored with his bastard sword in hand. When he sees the sailor, his eyes open wide, and he spins around, as though expecting an attack at any moment.

Kal'Tos will aid Cueta on her survival check to navigate.

1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24

"I say we go stealthy when we are much closer. Or at least as stealthy as I can be."

To Zik:

"Of course, Zik, we will let them know if we find them. Remember, stay hidden and safe, and we will see you soon."

To Kal'Tos:

"Fine with me. If we plot our course correctly, we should start moving stealthily a little over a half-hour from now."

About the skins - basically, all Cueta is hoping is that if someone were to see her in a rainstorm from a distance, they may not think twice about her not being a shark-tooth. She's not actually looking to pick up new armor, but rather a really, really flimsy disguise that she realizes would take a fortuitous set of circumstances to fool anyone with. If there is going to be mechanical issues (like her move going down to 20'), she's going to forgo this entirely.

handle animal: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23
survival: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9

Ha! Good thing Ben's got survival too...

Vallen stands up from his inspection, swiveling his head towards Edmund. His face is a mixture of anger and confusion, as if he had been betrayed by someone or something. "This man was murdered last night, Edmund. He was murdered by someone who knew how to cut a throat, too." He licks his lips nervously, beginning to pace. "I cannot believe this... why would someone do this, I was going to save... him.." The dwarf's face lights up, his brows furrowing. Did he know something that the rest of us were not meant to know?

Turning, the dwarf sighs. "Did anyone know who this man was, or any who knew him? Anyone? I was going to ask him myself when he got better..."

Diplomacy: 1d20 ⇒ 5

Might need some magical Gair diplomacy backup here

If he doesn't get an answer, he turns to Gair, speaking low. "Gair... friend.. please find out what you can about this sailor before I return. I must go pray and prepare the remedy for Deeshka." Storming off, Vallen starts to steep the herbs and quickly answers Jarla's questions. He throws himself in front of his anvil-altar with his head down, and fervently prays to Torag for a way to suppress Deeshka's sickness so order can be restored to their community.

This will take at least an hour.

Gair leans down to confer with Vallen, "I will see what I can learn, go see what you can do for Deeshka. Even fevered as she is, she may be our most valuable source of information."

He turns to Edmund, the worry plain acros his face and raises his voice loud enough to be heard by all, "We have a saber cat amongst the mammoth herd it seems. This man was a sailor on the Lillend, incoherent in fever. I know not why anyone would do such a thing but we will get to the bottom of it."

He pauses for a moment, considering his next words, "Troublesome as it is, this is only one more danger to add to those that assail us. The need to hunt, build and keep watch is as strong as ever. I urge you all to return to your duties. But ensure that no one goes anywhere alone and that every member of your group is accounted for at all times. We will hold a meeting about this tonight."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4 Another +2 if the bonus from the feast or the meeting last night still holds?

Seeing people are unwilling to move from the crowd, Gair steps closer to Edmund, "This is foul work, what do you make of it? I can what, if anything the others knew of this man, perhaps I can uncover a feud that might explain it."

He glances at the crowd, "Can you or Sandra speak to the crowd? We cannot afford to lose a day to this..."

survival: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8
stealth: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11
perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13

and the dice gods hate us. I think Kal'Tos survival roll is the only thing that keeps us from getting lost

Before leaving Zik and the boat. Ben retrieves his dagger from the young gnome. Remember! Stay out of sight. We will be back in a few hours if everything goes well.

Salvagers:

Pity Kal'Tos was only aiding.... But we'll use his roll.

Cueta. The skins are a hide shirt, so they do bump your AC up by one.

After tramping through the woods for an hour, you stand on the cliffs surrounding the beach where you saw the longboats. From here, you can see that each of them has had a hole broken in it. You can also see drag marks where the canoes that you spotted earlier could have been pulled off the beach.

There is a spot where the cliff has collapsed on itself, where bushes and even small trees are growing, making a scramble over the rocks possible (climb DC 0), rather than climbing the vertical cliff walls (DC 15) that otherwise surround the cove.

There are a few tracks in the sand below, between the drag marks and the longboats, and that's about all you can see, looking down from the top of a 40' tall cliff.

Newspring:

+2 bonus from feast still holds, the bonus from the meeting was just for that specific check. So, a 6 from Gair and a 7 from Vallen. Just barely enough to not cause a riot.

1d20 ⇒ 19

At first, the crowd seems mutinous, unwilling to follow Gair's instructions. Fists are clenched, faces are angry. Nobody seems to know what's happened, but the stress has pushed everyone nearly to the breaking point.

At which point, a voice starts to sing. The voice is clear and gentle, and people turn to look. Sandra Thayer is standing close to her brother, looking as though she just woke up, wrapped in a rich silk robe. It's a Taldan hymn of mourning, and famously long, but after singing the refrain, she stops.

"Hearthseeker is right," she says. "I know you are afraid. We are all afraid, and with good reason. If we don't have food, we will starve. If we don't have shelter, we will freeze when winter comes. If we are to be safe, we must defend ourselves. We all chose tasks last night. Let us stick to those tasks, and let Hassan take charge of this."

She turns to the Qadiran, who looks shocked by her suggestion. "I only meant to put myself forward in case we are attacked," he stammers.

"We are attacked," Edmund says, pointing impatiently at the body. "Take who you need to find the one who did this, and I'll have his head off myself."

Hassan looks around, still pale. He points at Gair, and then a moment later at Vallen.

"Where's the half-orc?" a voice shouts. It is Septimus, a Chelish man with a prisoner's brand on his forehead.

"Garrak?" Sorala Tharn says, her eyes suddenly fearful as she scans the crowd for her husband.

Gwenydd Sandlock sighs as she sees Gair and Vallen put in charge. She comes towards them with the look of someone determined to get something unpleasant over with quickly.

"His name was Dremon," she says. "He was a sailor from the ship. They would know him, if anyone does. When he was lucid yesterday, I also saw him watching the children. I thought nothing of it at the time, but now that he's dead...."

Kal'Tos will check for tracks leading away from the landing site. He will take 20 if necessary to pick up a trail.

"Cueta, how easy will it be to repair these boats?"

Prior to walking off to pray: Vallen is relieved when Sandra appears and calms the crowd. There were far too many angry faces staring at him for his liking. He waves a hand at Hassan as he's pointed to for being put in charge- the dwarf was already going to handle his end of the matter anyway. Vallen is only momentarily puzzled by the disappearance of Garrak, for Gwenydd approaches Gair and Vallen.

Listening to the halfing, he nods slowly. "Dremon. Thank you Gwenydd. Gair, if it will not take too much time from your duties, you could visit the ship, or look for Garrak. I will trust your instinct on this one. I am going to speak to Deeshka after I have prayed." The dwarf turns back to Gwen, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you for telling us Gwenydd. We will get to the bottom of this. Please- do not take your eyes off of Deeshka. I will return in an hour."

Vallen motions to Hassan and tells him his plan to speak to Deeshka. "If you're going to be a part of this, talk to Gair and do as he says. The man is wise and will not lead you astray."

Before he leaves, he seeks out Sorala Tharn if she is still here, and asks her where Garrak is. If she is not in immediate sight he leaves to pray/prepare the treatment.

Nerk you are going to spend the rest of the voyage swabbing the deck

Ben scrambles down the colapsed portion of the cliff and begins searching the area for any signs of what happened to the survivors from the Harpy and where they may have gone.

taking 10 on survival and perception checks perception 10+7=17
survival 10+5=15