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Mr Peppers continues the drudging trip north and upon learning they near the destination he makes the uncomfortable decision to change up his comfort spells for those more worthy for fighting. He walks on the last day and keeps his cloak bound close. "Stay vigilant, the forests seem quieter than they should be, am I right? They are usually so loud and distracting. I usually shut my window back in the city to block out the birds so I can concentrate."
"Undead! It begins!"
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The impact from D's sand bullet causes the red necrograft to explode into a pile of mush! Get your napkins out.
Mr. Peppers recalls that the three (now two) undead creatures are scrambler necrografts. They're generally weak and clumsy, lacking any resistances at all.
He's more familiar with the blue dessicated corpse, which is a Ragewight. It's hardy against spells requiring a will-save, but has no DR. It does have rage powers similar to a class barbarian and can also create spawn.
Mr. Peppers, Uesugi & Longjing, Sir D, Green, Gallix, Sirettis, Cup, Blue, Yellow
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Mr Peppers calmly throws back the cloak from his face and pulls another wad of stinky bat poo from his inner pocket, rolling it between his fingers and releasing it, sending it towards the group.
"This should be very effective." Not as much as I'd like..
He also calmly recites what he knows of the creatures as he wipes his hand clean of the poo. Such a nasty component..
Longjing rides on the Samurai's shoulder as his faithful steed rides Yurei into battle. It is a mighty dragon indeed that has a mount which also has a mount of its own!
"Rawwwwwwwk! Behold foul undead, the wrath of a dragon and his mighty steeds!"
Flying defensively, dodging and dancing and weaving, the mighty dragon attacks!
... and misses, for he does not have Cup's bonus to hit!
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The necrocrafts have weak saves, no SLAs, and no special abilities. Sucks to be them!
The ragewight, however, has high will saves, especially against spells and SLAs. More importantly, it has the Energy Drain ability, which can inflict negative levels.
The three undead shamble forward towards you, the yellow necrocraft floating up to the same height as the other, while the blue ragewight double moves ahead.
Mr. Peppers, Uesugi & Longjing, Sir D, Green (-21), Gallix, Sirettis, Cup, Blue (-21), Yellow (-21)
"Let us slay these foul monstrosities, noble steed!" When Uesugi attacks, Longjing does as well, dashing and darting as he flies towards the eyes of the horrid monstrosities!
But, put off by the undead's horrid appearance, the little parrot fails to aid! This triggers an attack of opportunity.
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Despite his vigor, D's sand blast is off target this time.
Luckily for Longjing, the ragewight fails to trim his wings! Uesugi and Yurei double team the wight, slashing and chomping at its frail body.
Mr. Peppers, Uesugi & Longjing, Sir D, Green (-21), Gallix, Sirettis, Cup, Blue (-58), Yellow (-21)
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Mr Peppers clambers over some dead, burned out logs and debris, careful to lift up his robes and cloak to avoid any pulls in the stitches, sends a blast of energy missiles at the Rage Wight, knowing full well it is the more dangerous target "Pile on that thing!"
They dance and weave around Uesugi and Yurei, striking the Wight as if it was the broad side of a barn.
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Longjing takes a powerful chop to his tiny body, but then the ragewight's flesh melts off its bones as the positive energy envelops it, and Gallix steps up and delivers a knockout punch. Luckily, the creature doesn't get another attack off before it's killed!
The yellow necrocraft floats down to ground level and rushes Uesugi..
.. Missing him again!
Mr. Peppers, Uesugi & Longjing (-16), Sir D, Green (-21), Gallix, Sirettis, Cup, Yellow (-21)
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"Rawwwwk! Do you think that a mere swipe like that can keep down a mighty DRAGON?" As the Rage Wight falls, Longjing notes, "EXACTLY what you had coming, you sniveling undead! Good work, Sir Gallix and Lady Sirettis!"
The little parrot is flying haphazardly, obviously wounded and hurt.
Undaunted, he flies in to attack the Yellow Necrocraft to aid Uesugi's second attack!
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With the defeat of the undead, a group of Kellid warriors charges forward. "That was awesome. I hope the bird is okay! The undead have been pouring from a portal at the stone circle since nightfall, and we need your help to hold them back and find a way to close that portal. Please, join us back at the encampment. We have much to discuss."
A burlier Kellid warrior decked head to toe in furs clears his throat. "We've got a bigger problem than that. Some of our leaders are questioning whether its worth even defending these ancestral lands. The lot of them are thinking about moving somewhere safer! Nonsense, I say! We will not give in to the undead plague!" He shouts. "Come, help us convince them that leaving these lands is not an option."
Longjing shakes his feathers, eyeing his wings critically before landing on their guide's shoulder. "As you can see, I am a MIGHTY dragon. It's hard to keep one of my kind down for long. Lead the way, Squire!"
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Really? A group of barbaric warriors are about to run away scared?
These westerners....ugh.
D. lifts up the head of the ragewight, and has it float along.
When they arrive at the worrying kellid warriors, , D. steps forward.
"Westerners!"
He sternly looks across the crowd.
"I come from the east, joining the pathfinder society, to explore and discover the west. Yet what do my ears reach, after traveling up to your ancestral lands?"
"Words of forsaking your family's lands to undead, to hide away elsewhere? In the east, we value family and our heritage most highly.
Your actions do not match the description of your people. I have heard telling of stout warriors, not of dogs running with the tail between their legs."
"If you abandon your lands, the undead will not stop, they would advance still. In worst case, they might even raise your ancestors as monsters, because you were not there to defend them."
At the 1st sign of objection, D. looks with a glare as sharp and cold as the vacuum of space.
D. swats the ragewight's head into the crowd.
"-THIS- is what you should do. Kill the walking dead, and bring honor to your family. These are -your lands-, not of the dead."
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The thick hide walls of the large tent muffle the sounds from outside. Iron spikes pin down an enormous map in the center of the tent. Wooden carvings of warriors and monsters lie strewn about the map, marking the location of fighting warriors and the encroaching undead.
As you enter, you hear Medda’s voice. “You’re asking us to leave behind everything we know and care about!”
“Indeed,” rumbles Anok the phantom’s deep and booming voice, “You would have us abandon our sacred pledge to Ivvora.”
“Aye, I’d have us abandon this lunacy!” Another man proclaims as you enter. He is a towering man, broad-shouldered and sturdily built, wearing the cloak of dire polar bear. Covered in scars and with a proud bearing, his presence fills this tent as he paces back and forth. “Surely we can find better winter hunting grounds, where we don’t have to compete for game with bloodthirsty orcs and cursed undead! As for leaving behind what we care about... What I care about is my warriors, many of whom we’ve left behind on this battlefield!”
“Who are we as a people if we abandon our oaths? I demand,” declares Medda, “that we stay and fight for our homes and our traditions!”
In addition to Medda, Anok the phantom, and the towering man, there is a fourth person in this room. An old woman with plenty of scars of her own, is calmly listening to the arguments while she fletches arrows. She has to bring the arrows close to her face as she fletches, but her ears are turned towards the conversation. With tanned and wrinkled skin, white hair cut short, and a weathered longbow by her side, there is an intense focus about the old woman, and the other three leaders keep darting glances her way, as if waiting for her to weigh in.
Then the old woman looks up with clouded eyes at the tent flap opening where you are gathered. Squinting at the sun in her face, she asks with a quavering voice, “Are you the warriors that Medda told us about? If so, I am pleased to meet you, and hear your wisdom. I am Jala the Patient. This bear in human form is Kragr Bloodhand. You already know Medda and Anok.” She pauses, grabbing a drink from a leather water skin and licking her lips. “Speak. We are at a decision point.”
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Sir D steps up to Kragr, the towering man decked out in the dire polar bear cloak, and delivers an inspiring speech. Kragr stands and shouts back at D. "I'm no dog at all! Do you see this cloak? I punched this polar bear right in the face with my FIST!" He shows D his hand. "And then I wrestled it to its death! And you're insinuating that I'm scared! Impossible!"
Sir D (Influenced Kragr)
Mr. Peppers
Sirettis
Uesugi
Gallix
Cup
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"I don't know about the rest of you, but this sounds like an important decision. I think best over a nice cup of tea." She pulls out her tea pot, heats it up with a wave of her hand and a muttered spell, and starts brewing cups of tea. This gives her plenty of time to study Kragr, the guy pacing in the Dire Polar Bear Cloak.
She passes out tea cups with steaming hot tea while watching Kragr closely. "Do you take sugar? If so, one lump or two?"
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"Jala the Patient, may I sit with you?" Sirettis watches her hone the arrows to a sharpened point. "From the wolves, who howl into the night, to the birds who soar overhead, and even to the fish that fight survival... every living creature possesses the power of fight or flight. When danger rears its head, an animal will either flee and hide, or they will stay and fight to protect their home."
"But some animals will work together to become stronger than an individual. The hyena, for example will travel in packs to surround, corner and hunt their prey. Bees and hornets will sacrifice themselves to save the queen and their hive. Civilizations live and die because individuals are willing to put their lives on the line to preserve it. What say you? How have you perceived the natural worlds?"
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"Tea, you say? All we ever drink around here is boar blood and filthy water. Let me try some of this tea." He takes a cup and sips on it, a curious look washing over his face.
The tea makes Kragr insightful, and he begins to tell you about his history. As the primary hunter of the Twinhorns, Kragr is most comfortable outdoors. He has had experience in skirmishes with other followings and orcs from the south, but he usually fights his foes directly. He has wanted to abandon the traditions of Vildeis and Ivvora for years, feeling there are better places to spend winters with more game and fewer orcs. He sees no value in remaining.
Kragr admires physically powerful creatures but looks down on the weak. Insinuating that he's afraid motivates him to look strong, but calling him a coward will likely make him angry.
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Jala listens with her head crooked sideways as Sirettis speaks. She squints her eyes, struggling to see the sylph, her vision failing in her old age. "There's no need for metaphors, dear. I get it. The survival of a tribe is no different than the survival of mere packs of wolves. It's just that..."
Sirettis gleans the following from Jala: She was once the hero of the following, able to bring down a stag at 500 feet in a gale. Now much older, she relies on her hunter's instincts to guide her words instead of her arrows.
Jala prefers to hear reasoned arguments rather than impassioned pleas. She's often silent, waiting for the right moment to speak, and when she does, her words are direct and to the point.
Discoveries made: 2 (Kragr, Jala)
Kragr 1 / ?
Medda 0 / ?
Jala 0 / ?
Sir D (Influenced Kragr)
Mr. Peppers
Sirettis (Discovery, Jala)
Uesugi
Gallix
Cup (Discovery, Kragr)
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Once the warriors approach Mr Peppers quickly cleans his hands and straightens his robe and cloak, ready to meet with the Kellids to hopefully resolve this latest mission quickly. As much as I enjoy practicing my fireball aim, all this travel and sleeping on the ground really is messing up my back.
He stands upright along the wall listening to the others as they plead their cases and ask their questions, taking tea when offered by Miss Cup after helping to super heat the pot. I like how this Jala carries herself, listening and speaking sparingly. This places so much more weight in words.
He redirects his attention towards Medda, whom they've traveled with for days now. "Medda, these undead that come forth, are they so powerful they can't be stopped? Between myself and the others here, I'm sure we can devise a proper strategy to help these warriors protect themselves from their attacks while we close this portal. Magical Portals are something I'm familiar with..."
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Uesugi nods at D.'s reasoning and then looks at Kragr directly in the eyes. "None here will call you anything but great warrior of the North. You have likely never swayed and taken on all challenges that were set before you even to this day. You fear not for your own safety. No you fear for the safety of those that trust in you.
Yet to lead your people away will not bring them the safety you desire to provide them. No taking them away will lead them to a place of dishonour where the pact that was sworn to Ivvora so long ago will cause them shame. On your ancestor's blood this pact was made and it must be honoured. Shall the next generations speak your name with praise or curse it for what you take away from them. The right to die honourably defending what their wise ancestors fought to hold back so long ago? It is your choice but your name was likely not born from running away."
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Gallix enters the tent and takes a seat at the table next to Medda. He pulls a pouch from his side, reaches in, and begins pulling various small phials from inside. Each contains powders and salts of all sorts of colors and textures. Finally, he brings out a small mortar and pestle. He flattens the pouch out on the table, rests the mortar on it, and begins adding small amounts of some of the phials' contents. As he works, he speaks to Medda, never taking his eyes off of his work. "You know, Medda, I've been really fascinated by your connection with Anok since we met. It reminds me of a dream I had once. It was about this teacher I had. Man who taught me how to fight. Well, he was an old bastard, and he ended up dying a little while after I left to see the world and make all my own mistakes. But here he was in my dream like he was alive and well. Hah! I could swear I woke up with a bruise from where he walloped me in my dream! Anyway, point is, you and I know how important it is to carry the spirits of those before us. It makes us strong. Teaches us how to stand up when we feel like running off." Gallix pauses for a moment as he pulls a slip of thin paper from a hidden compartment on his sleeve. He sets the paper down, pours the mixture of reagents he had combined in, and rolls the paper into a perfect tube, which he seals at one end with a reddish liquid he pours from another phial. He holds the cigarette up for Medda to see, and says, "For me, this is how I carry my teacher with me. It gives me strength and takes away my fear. Anok does that for you too, I think. And for your people, it's their devotion to Ivvora. Don't let them forget that." He tucks the cigarette into his chest pocket, packs up his supplies, and leans back in his seat, crossing his legs as he looks up at the brave warriors standing around him.
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Medda sighs in frustration, gripping the handle on her longspear tightly. "These undead are unlike anything we've ever fought before... But perhaps you may have a strategy that we just aren't aware of. I only seek the peace of my tribe, and it sounds like that might mean our movement abroad. Regardless ..."
Medda opens up to Mr. Peppers, inspired by his earlier use of magic. He learns that when she was 11 years old, Medda accepted the responsibility of sheltering Anok’s phantom, as had her mother before her. She had been presumed to be a boy up until that point, and accepting the heavy family burden helped her find the inner strength to acknowledge her true self. Her revelation pleased the elder council, for "evening’s daughters" - daughters who revealed themselves later than most - were presumed in Kellid culture to posses incredible willpower and tenacity. Once bound to Ivvora’s hilt and Anok, Medda developed considerable psychic magic, which she honed through many adventures and spiritual trials in the 15 years since. Medda is a wise councilor, resourceful healer, and time-tested leader for the Twinhorn following.
Medda has a lithe build, especially by Kellid standards, and wears her auburn hair tied in a tight braid. She wears a breastplate over her furs and carries a longspear into battle. As a devout follower of Vildeis, she wears a bloody bandage as a symbol of her own sacrifice, giving some of her own life force to sustain the phantom of Anok. Small scars featuring celestial runes peak from beneath her clothing.
She has a bias towards outward followers of good-aligned deities, but is against those who are violent for glory or personal gain.
Medda watches on curiously as Gallix so meticulously prepares the cigarette while speaking profoundly. "You and I are not that different. We may get our strength from difference sources - different things, but Anok has been with me my whole life, and my mother before me. To my people, the paladin Ivvora shows them the truth, even in her death. It is why I think leaving these lands may not be the correct path forward."
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"Running away is the LAST thing I'd do! If I can handle a bear, why can't I handle one of those puny, weak zombies? Why, I can probably wrestle two of them to submission at the same time," Kragr shouts, raising his fists up high. "It's not so much the threat of the undead. I just think there must be a better place to spend our winter, somewhere with fewer orcs. I see no value in the annual visit to this place!"
Discoveries made: All 3
Kragr 2 / ?
Medda 1 / ?
Jala 0 / ?
Sir D
Mr. Peppers
Sirettis
Uesugi
Gallix
Cup
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Sirettis stays with Jala. "My apologies, I tend to ramble on when I find those aligned with the natural world. You should say hello to Isa, my nightingale." She chirps.
"This isn't her climate. It isn't her habitat. Yet she stays with me and endures. The tribe must stay and defend their home, even if it's not their home."
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Cup sings to Medda and whomever's listening:
♫ In days of old
The stories often told
Of the group known as the Following
They held tradition true
Knew what they had to do
It was Ivorra's path they were Following
Evil's on the rise
Portents in the skies
Who'll hold them back? The Following!
There's a crisis and it's no fable
The fight is real, and you're still able!
Together we'll save the world
Our banners fly unfurled
Do you hear the call?
They'll need us all
Yes, come together for the Following! ♫
Cup walks up to Kragr. "I may be small and you may be huge and fierce, but I know what's at stake here. Do you? How do you want to be remembered? In song? In story? Do you want to be remembered as Kragr the Cautious, or as Kragr the Conqueror, the man who chased back the darkness and held it at bay? Now's the time to stand and fight! You have powerful allies and spirited warriors! We can do this, but we have to act now!"