Nme'an takes one final swing at the departing creature...
for
...then swims for the surface.
...and draw Elixir of Swiming for use next round.
A mammoth hand flings the dagger cum short sword at the retreating figure, but the weapon merely tumbles into the darkness below. Gripping his greatsword with both free hands, the mighty Urlghain swings as the behemoth darts away!
With fury in his eyes the beast of a man stretches his arms out and tries to swim after the creature!
His massive shape speeds through the water until he can see the beast is no more than ten feet further, once more the Casns fighter grips his ancestral blade and swings with all his might!
--
The elemental immediately gives chase after the giant squid-like creature, crashing into the monster as it flees.
With a series of clicking and squeaking noises, the three dolphins also follow suit and pursue their common foe.
--
”We aren’t moving fast enough.” Beorae's hand dives into her pack and she pulls out the bundle of silken rope. She tosses an end to Themp and says, ”Secure this to the boat!” before tying the other end around her waist.
The Knight Lieutenant fights against the weight of his protective armor, and manages to propel himself fifteen feet closer to the surface.
Punished with wallops as it flees, the blinded creature flails downward, deeper into the lake. But the oversized Casns warrior gives chase, leading a bubbly charge with a water elemental and dolphins in tow! His shining greatsword powers though the water and slices a wide gash into the tentacled sea monster. Black blood gushes out and clouds around the Highlander and his adversary! Through the red in his eyes and the murk in the water, the berserker catches glimpses of tentacles, floating slowly, limp and no longer trying to propel the monster away.
The summoned creatures close in and do their best to hammer the foe through the dark billowing cloud of bodily fluids.
The water spirit crashes against the gravely wounded creature, and one of the dolphins jabs the listless side of the one-eyed, slimy green monster.
Surrounded by the darkened water that hampers their vision, those that pursued the creature can see an obscured outline of its free floating. It drifts like the dead in water.
Mot swings his blade blindly into the murky water, headless of whether or not he can even hit the beast.
"Huh?!" exclaims Themp, taken aback by the sudden request and obvious plan. "What about your plan?"
Still, the loyal scoundrel complies, while also preparing his own rope around the boat's sturdiest beam.
Nme'an pumps his arms and legs, fighting the weight of his armor to ascend another five feet towards the surface. He tries a different method of kicks and strokes, in hopes of swimming a bit quicker, but the new method offers no progress.
The hairy berserker's shining blade cuts through the cloud, but Mot does not feel it connect with anything.
”Plan?! I plan to not have them die down there!” Beorae takes a deep breath and dives into the water on the south side of the boat where Nme’an went under, hoping to take a the rope line to the paladin and help him to the surface.
--
Two of the dolphins continue to attack the monster, and one races toward Nme’an to assist the flailing paladin.
The water swirls as the dolphins jab at the limply floating tentacles, and the cloud of black blood clears well enough to no longer obscure the green monstrosity. It can be difficult to know for certain, such is the chaos of battle, but some of the black and brown bruises and cuts on the sea creature seem to be slowly closing...
The third dolphin swims with incredible speed to the armored knight. Bumping and prodding the half-elf, the sea mammal seems to slowly swim alongside Nme’an, trying to nuzzle underneath his arms. Whether he is aware of it or not, the holy warrior gets pushed upward with the help of the dolphin ally. His head breaks the surface of the water just as the other half-elf plunges in, wreathed in bubbles. Not a second later, the dolphins break company and swim away into the murk of the water.
Beorae is surprised by Nme'an's sudden resurfacing and has to adjust her entry so as to not clock him on the head as she dives in. She sputters for a moment on the surface, pulling hair out of her eyes, "Where's Mot? That thing can regenerate underwater, we need to get to the shore!"
As the water clears Mot again spots the hated foe drifting in the deep. Using his legs to propel himself into an attack, the blood-thirsty Urlghain swings for the beast once again!
"Come on, paladin, take me hand!" shouts Themp overboard, extending his hand towards Nme'an. "Let's get this boat out of here!"
"No, the boat stays where it is. Mot is still down there. Get another rope in the water. Tie it to something heavy if you have to so it reach down to us."
As he speaks, the Knight Lieutenant retrieves the Elixir of Swimming he got from the forest gnomes.
"Shall we?" he says to Beorae as he downs the slippery liquid and prepares to dive.
"You're all insane..." mumbles Themp under his breath, as he turns to yet another sturdy beam, tying his own rope to it.
"Your shield will do nicely. Mind if I use that as a weight?" Themp asks the knight, half-joking, half-serious.
"The tower shield? Go head. But do not lose it..." Nme'an answers.
The Casns blade cleaves the thrice-pupiled eye, parting a couple tentacles from the body as well. Any doubts about the green monster's deadness is sliced from Mot's mind as the swing leaves a trail gushing more black blood into the water.
Themp carefully ties the other end of his rope around Nme'an's tower shield, tugging hard to check it won't slip. Satisfied with his work, he throws drops the shield overboard.
"Hope you know what you're doing, shiny fish. Tug the ropes when you're ready to be pulled. Good luck."
Beorae gives Themp a quick acknowledging gesture and dives below the surface to find Mot.
Nme'an follows, swiming downward beside Themp's rope.
Mot watches the life fade from the creatures eyes, but the Highland berserker feels no release from his clans curse. Bubbles of air form as the Casns fighter growls and reaches for the beast. Grabbing hold of the tentacled thing he kicks for the surface, massive limbs propelling him through the water.
Mot kicks himself up twenty feet closer to the surface, and the two half-elves propel themselves fifteen feet down. Through the lake water, they can see the big hairy Casns warrior surging towards them, twice his normal size and dragging a limp and bleeding tentacled mass behind him in one hand, and his enormous shining family sword in the other!
Beorae swims toward Mot, but the Ulgharian's unnatural size startles her and she makes slow progress.
"Olp, help me keep watch of the ropes. If you see them tugging, warn me. I'll keep watch for any other threats."
Rippling muscles strain against the pull of the water as the Casns warrior swims, trophy still in tow.
Nme'an continues downward and is, as rarely happens, delighted to see Mot swiming to the surface... and pulling the creature behind him. Changing his orientation to point skyward, Nme'an prepares to help the big man with his odd task...
Beorae swims downward, and Mot flounders in his ascent. His enormous arms still manage to claw himself and his prize ten feet higher. It is just far enough for the paladin to reach the mass of limp tentacles and pull with tremendous strength. As Nme’an kicks for the surface, the highlander can feel the dead monster, and himself, be towed closer to the dappled shimmering ceiling! The three adventures amass, the surface just a few strokes within reach!
Olp nods and leaves his oars to clamber to the rope. He grips it with tense muscles, ready to pull when the order is given.
Meanwhile, Themp scans the surface of the lake, the nearby island, and even the skies and distant shore. His watchful eye catches no incoming danger.
Still confused by Mot's enormous size, but seeing that Nme'an has the warrior in-tow, Beorae grips the rope and swims upward. Breaking the surface, she clears the water from her eyes, “They're right behind me. And Mot's carrying the creature…” Still using the rope for leverage, the druidess pulls herself up and onto the boat.
Nme'an continues towards the surface, monster and Quons’Maki in tow.
"Mot's what?!" exclaims Themp, helping Beorae with the rope. "Does that man know no bounds?"
Straining against the pull of the deep, Mot slowly paddles in the waves.
Not three seconds after Themp's comment, the surface all around the boat churns and splashes as three shapes come thrashing to the surface: Nme'an, his gleaming armor made buoyant by the magic potion; Mot, his already great size doubled and teeth bared; and a heap of slimy green and brown tentacles, limp and oozing black blood.
Olp moves to help the two warriors aboard.
"Oh, hey, at least the monster is tiny now" Themp happily remarks.
"It would be a damn hassle to handle that huge thing on this tiny boa..." Words trail off as realization dawns on Themp. It's not the monster that is tiny. Mot is actually enormous.
"What. The. เพศ."
As Mot bursts through to the above world his massive lungs inflate like bellows, bringing in a roar of fresh clean air. A few moments later the effects of the spell wear off, and the abnormally huge highlander reverts to his typical form. The red is gone from his eyes and he clings to the side of the boat like a drowned puppy. Wild hair, typically in a self-sustained halo around his head lies soaking and matted to his skull as the Casns fighter strains with visible effort to roll himself into the little vessel.
Nearly a minute transpires before Mot recovers enough to find his voice. The barbarian begins to tie the monstrous lake creature to the boat, allowing it to be towed behind. "Ah followed tha creetoor doon to tha briny deeps! Et woos there Ah smot 'es rooin!" Task completed he turns back to Themp, Big tired grin on his face he continues with a flourish of his hands. "As foor mea size, Ah toold yoo, Ah'm magec noow!" A brief flash of amber energy forms in his outstretched hand and a little figure of, well, Mot appears. Crudely formed and not much to look at, it is still obvious that the figurine of the Casns warrior has the lake monster lifted above it's head, as if rending it in two.
"Good work, everyone. Each of your quick thinking or skill turned disaster into not. Not as easy an crossing as I would have liked, but also not entirely unexpected of those who choose to man a strange tower in the middle of a lake..." Nme'an says to the others after he is aboard. "Let us get out of this water for something else happens."
He resumes his place and begins rowing again.
Nme'an begins rowing towards the shore and finds his oar pushes the boat along with unusual effectiveness.
"So we're all just going to ignore the monster we're tugging along?", Themp asks in slight disbelief as Nme'an grabs his oar.
When the oar hits the water for the second time, Themp just shrugs, aware of how pointless a discussion would be and slightly worried there might be other such monsters lurking around.
"Sounds about right."
Beorae rolls her eyes slightly at Mot's boasts, but grabs and oar and helps the others paddle. "Come on, let's get this thing to land..." As they approach, she keeps a wary eye on the shore.
"Themp, I think you're holding the paddle wrong..."
Once all are aboard, the champions of Thaleniel row together to the pebbled shore of the island. The water of the lake washes up to overgrown grass, matted down by wind and rain. Although distant, the Stillwater Lake carries the sounds of the jungle to the sharp ears of the travelers. The island itself appears to be circular, a ring of thick grass around dark stone walls that tower immensely over the heads of those at its base. The stone is clearly masoned, but with such precision and sheer angle that makes climbing an impossibility. The side of the building the five approach shows no door, but presumably, there is a conventional way to enter Ithalgol's Keep.
A single, solid clunk resonates, sounding very much like a heavy door latch that was muffled.
Mot hops out of the small vessel with a heavy splash in the shallows. Wading waist deep back into the lake the Highlander unties the massive unholy beast and begins dragging it to shore, muscles heaving with the effort.
Once the majority of the creature is on dry ground only then does he look upon their destination, finally attained through trial and tribulation. "Et es beggar than Ah thooght." He notes, somewhat absently. Reaching for the dagger on his belt the Casns is momentarily confused at the absence of the small blade.
Big blue eyes widen with realization and a meaty hand slaps itself on his hairy forehead. The tool had probably sunk far into the fresh water depths by now. A quite sound halfway between a chuckle and a grown escapes the warriors throat as he draws his great sword and attempts to butcher the beast there on the beach.
The great, glowing blade is rather unwieldy for the job, and this abominable sea creature is so different in anatomy from the typical game dressed by the Highlander, Mot Casns' progress is a little haphazard and wasteful in his task.
The big hairy man is able to separate meat and the slimy, tough rubbery hide easy enough. In the doing, he notices an odd thin black line of squiggles down each tentacle. Sticky and stretchy, Mot suspects that tanning the skin of the sea monster might shrink it significantly. Also, it seems to the Casns that there is not a single bone the creature's body, save for circular rows of sharp teeth under its ruptured single eye. But given the size of the tool he uses, cutting out the teeth might be a little difficult.
As the Highlander works with his prize, Olp clambers out of the boat, eager to be back on land. Casually, he unshoulders his round wood shield and ventures into the thick, overgrown grass. His shortspear idly prods the matted foliage as he surveys the wall and surrounding land.
"I hatched from southerly nest. I was born into southerly duties. Only heard stories of this tower. Never expected to see it in my..." he pauses, searching for the word in Common, "time of life." He says matter-of-factly.
Nme'an exits the boat and takes in the new surroundings.
"The idea of magic towers is familiar to most children where we come from," the knight lieutenant muses in reply to to the dragon kin. "We use them in stories and lessons. Of hero acts or tales of great wizards or warnings against doing more evil than one ever should," he says as he approaches the tower and reaches out one hand to feel its stone. "I had no knowledge of this tower until a pair of weeks ago."
Failing to conceal his relief of being away from the water, Themp quickly hops off the boat into firm land. He immediately notices the wall facing the group is completely impervious to climbing.
He whistles in amazement. "Boy, they sure did a good job with these stones, huh? You guys want to look for a door or do we just blow a hole into it?" *devilish grin* "I'm sure if Mot can turn into a giant again, he'd have no trouble shaking this tower up."
"Ha!" Mot laughs from where he is carefully trying to butcher a tentacle. "Tha' Ah might!" He glances back up at the tower where Themp examines it. His big blue eyes squint as the Highlander assess the construction. Unable to spot a joint or seem in the edifice, an uncertain gleam forms on his normally resolved features. His tone almost sounds unsure when he says again "Ah might..."
Banishing thoughts of demolition from his mind, Mot again tends to the task at hand. As carefully as he can, the big warrior attempts to flay the skin off of the beasts form.
He's about to try and harvest the teeth, when he notices the full on mess that has been made of the beasts mouth orifice. Shrugging, the berserker begins wrapping the meat for storage.
Nme'an feels cold stone, no different than the walls of the Thaleniel fortress where he trained. Though this structure may be significantly older.
The Casns manages a sizable span of stretchy, sticky green hide. Not big enough to fashion a full-length cloak, but perhaps a vest, a shawl, or a couple of rubbery hats.
"I have heard of 'great wizards'," replies Olp. "In our stories, they were dragon-botherers. Nothing more peaceful than a bed of gold and jewels, but great wizards would not leave our most powerful ancestors alone."
He frowns up the smooth stone walls, peering up to the top. "We found black dragon tracks in the jungle. Do you think it lives in this tower?" The kobold's tone sounds more hopeful than fearful.
Mot shrugs at the kobolds inquiry. "Ah suppoose et es poosible? Ah dinnae knoo much aboot drahgons, but ae bed oof goold an jewals soonds nice!" He flashes a smile as he tugs on the skin of the great beast.
Running a hand over the length of hide Mot ensures that there is no appreciable amount of hair on the water-dwellers skin. He carries his prize back to the lakes edge before dunking it and allowing it to soak, carefully removing any bits of fat and flesh that still cling to it's underside.
Once satisfied that the grisly token had soaked through, the Highlander removes it and starts rubbing it down with a solution of water and the creatures own brain, thoroughly mixed while he waited.