Looking at the pile of filthy clothing,Quinaweniel forces herself to search among them,grimacing in disgust.
They are all too large for her,so first she rips in two a large man's shirt and ties it in a rudimentary loincloth and bra.Then she takes a brown skirt and shirt both with lace running all over them,maybe a mountebank's clothing.
They are a still a bit large for her,so she ties the sleeves over her wrists.
Finally she takes a large heavy cape,intending to wear it over the rest.
"For now these'll do,but surely a good washing in seawater tomorrow morning won't harm."
Quinaweniel also takes a pair of boots like Gwendalyn's, but she has to stuff them with a bit of strips from the cape to make them fit her feet.
"I'll keep an eye out then, both for the gob's friends, and I'll keep the fire from going out," Sajeek says as he tightens his rope belt. "I'll wake up..," the young beastlord looks around the cave. "Maruusk, in about around four or so hours."
The young vah shir, dressed in his ill fitting, heavily stained clothes made from rough sail cloth, looks at the gloves, cloak, longcoat and boots he has yet to put. Although, as the goblin burns brighter, Sajeek gets a better look at the floor and quickly sticks his clawed feet in the boots.
"I am a bit more concerned about the smell of cooked meat drawing some predator or pack of scavenger. On the bright side, the entrance is very narrow," Sajeek smiles briefly.
"Quinaweniel, would you be up for magicing a loaf of bread for me to gnaw on while I keep watch?" Sajeek asks of the magic user, trying to pretend that his stomach didn't just gurgle loudly at the mention of bread.
Revery thanks Sajeek for offering to watch. "My night vision is poorer than yours, so I will take my turn in the early hours of the morning."
He's about to try to sleep when he hears Sajeek asking for bread. And though he does try to get to sleep, he can't help but listen with interest for Quinawniel's answer.
Too many things circle through his mind. Boots, clothes. Feces. Goblins, and worse. "Oh, I just realized what that soot is from. Some fire spell, I figure. There was a wizard or a magical beast in here, not all that long ago."
Then he remembers the books. Unable to sleep at the moment, he crawls over to get the still unburnt books and brings them back to his spot by the fire, taking care not to put them too close. Then he looks through them to see what they are. If there was a wizard in here, he might have had spellbooks. Or perhaps the goblin was a wizard, or spellcaster of some sort? Hmm, something to think about.
As Revery looks through the books, his mind naturally makes a to-do list for tomorrow:
- Get boots, shoes, or other foot coverings (though the others have already got the best ones, he supposes).
- Get clothes, wash them in seawater if possible, dry them near the fire if possible.
- Someone will need to gather more firewood.
- Think about getting food other than blandbread. Perhaps some seafood?
- Look over rock shards and other cave debris to see if there is something, anything (both in terms of tools and materials), that could be used to craft a miniature dagger.
- Inspect the surroundings to see if there is any clue as to the group's whereabouts. (Knowledge Check can wait for that..)
- Based on the previous item, determine what to do. Is there possibly a settlement nearby?
Maruusk stands over the stinking pile of clothing, only slightly less odoriferous than the pile of goblin crap. He pulls out the most serviceable and warm clothing available, and a pair of soiled boots. After donning a stained sailcloth shirt (probably from another lost sailor), he pulls on a brocade jacket of a virulent yellow hue (probably from the same crate as that Syn wears), weather-worn leather pants follow as do hard-used, knee-height riding boots. Last, he pulls a weather-beaten leather coat and peaked felt hat. Gloves are hard to come by, but the coat has deep pockets...
Maruusk stays near the front of the cave, as close to the entrance as he can manage, since the smell of cooking goblin is, if possible, worse than the pile of their crap. "Gods Khae, do you have to cook that in here?" He isn't sure if the dwarf can understand him, but the smell causes his stomach to flip-flop a few times.
He fingers one of the rusty daggers he picked up from the pile, at least he wasn't helpless any longer...
"Aye Sajeek, I'll take the next watch. We have to make sure that the arcanists here can get enough rest." Maruusk moves to a spot near the fire and settles in to get some meager rest, though the absence of absolute cold and the weather, with their meager fire, make it more than bearable. Almost as good as his bed back home - so far away from here...
Revery finds a garish purple shirt made for an oversized sailor, and a faded green pair of pants, although it's difficult to be sure what color they really are, or were. Finally, he finds the cleanest piece of cloth he can, which turns out to be a large undergarment of some kind.
He drapes the less dirty sides over him, with the undergarment scrunched up as a pillow, lies on the floor near the fire, and tries to sleep.
Strange arcane symbols twist and crawl across the pages of both the mouldering tomes. One cannot hold onto the writing for more than a heartbeat without feeling their mind slip into the ragged depths of madness. These are spellbooks full of spells far beyond your meagre abilities.
There are sufficient foot coverings amongst the clothes, whether one was to don the traditional footwear or simply wrap clothes around their feet. It is crude at the best of times, but it is far better than walking around barefoot.
Seeing Revery looking through the mushroom-festooned books, Gwendalyn approaches. "I need to meditate in case that thing's friends return. Tell me later if you find anything interesting?" She pulls part of a pile of clothing into a spot she likes -- making a nest not that different from the goblins' -- and sits down for about half an hour.
Quinaweniel empities her remaining mana producing bread, but they'll need clean buckets or similar means to contain the water for her to summon drinks either.
She produces six loaves of bread.
"This is all i can afford for the moment,need to meditate myself now."
The elven girl never stopped staring toward the erudite and the spellbooks he was viewing,but in the end she was much too weary.
"I would like to take a look at those books too mr.Revery.But non need to hurry,i need to rest now.And i too can take watch during the darkest hours of night due to my ability to see in absence of light."
But for now she just sits down on a pile of cloths alongside Gwendalyn,taking a few bites off a loaf of bread.
Morning (full health/mana) is more of a concept than a change in the weather, or lighting conditions, and truth be told the group has slept deep into the afternoon. If anything the storm has gotten worse, perhaps raging harder as part of a meteorological tantrum since you found a way to escape its clutches.
Gwendalyn and Quinaweniel lay in the filthy pile of clothing, and it does not take long for the duo to make a size comparison. The one Gwen lies in fits her just fine, while the other two are much smaller, about the size suited for a large child, making it hard for Quin to find a proper perch without combining them into one larger one.
Your stomachs are overflowing with magically summoned bread thanks to Quinaweniel's magic.
With cupped hands you can partake of the fine whiskey, but you find your travails make you a lightweight (-5 to alcohol tolerance checks, half normal drinks before inebriation sets in). Eating snow is the best way to slake your thirst since you have no worry about hypothermia due to the presence of the fire. Luckily the storm is providing you with enough snow to fill a thousand thousand waterskins.
The whiskey barrel has a jaunty snow cap, with matching snow skirt, but the rest of the barrel stands out against the backdrop of the mountain the cave resides within. Between this, the contrail of smoke that is drifting up the chimney, and the fire within the mouth of the cave your presence will be easy to detect.
Footprints can be seen in the snow not far from the cave entrance. Your sentries had reported nothing in the night (failed spot/listen checks), but it appears that more had transpired than they had perceived.
The spells in the books are far beyond all spell casters present. To the right buyer they would likely fetch a decent price.
Without the proper tradeskill it is likely inconceivable that Revery can produce a dagger, tiny or otherwise. He has never seen the spell cast using a stone weapon, but perhaps if he finds a way to melt down all of the party's available coins (21gp, 9cp) he could make one. Another option would be to relieve Maruusk of the dagger he holds and try to work out a way to cut it down to size. Of course that would be destroying one of the few weapons the group has at their disposal, so that might not be embraced as readily as he might like.
Khae is doing a little impromptu dance fueled by drinking far too much whiskey out of the charred goblin's skull he fished out of the fire. The dwarf is enjoying the freedom of the dress perhaps a bit too much.
Syn is sitting up and looking lucid, though his hair is suggestive of madness. He rubs his leg a great deal, and it is obviously hurting him, but he is far beyond what magic can help him with.
Sajeek returns from gathering a few handfuls of snow to drink. The vah shir had noticed what he thought might have been footprints in the snow. That suggest something had investigate during the night. Not that he could really tell much with the storm raging.
"Someone or something knows that we are in here," the young beastlord says calmly as he drops back in. Brushing some snow that still clung to his flithy and sooted covered clothing, Sajeek sits back down next to the coat and cloak he had left.
With a slight frown, Sajeek moves his new necklace, so that is isn't poking him. During his watch, the vah shir had found a small tooth from one of the sharks that had attacked the raft. At least he hoped it was a small tooth, it was almost as large as his palm. The beastlord had found while restocking their meager fire with a bit of broken raft. Using a length of twine from a bit of unraveled rope, he had fashioned a crude necklace.
"As much as I would like to get really drunk, it would be a better idea to keep our wits about us," Sajeek glances at the dancing dwarf and smiles at the sight. Also, it might not be a bad idea to soak some strips of sailcloth, or clothing, in the whiskey and make a some torches." Sajeek pauses for a few moments, wiping some melting snow off of his whiskers. "We can use the goblin's skull as a bowl to let the strips soak in, and either some wood or a few long bones would due the trick.
Sajeeks stops and blinks a few times. Turning his head he looks at Syn. He nods and smiles at the wounded elf.
"Glad to see that you have recovered Syn," Sajeek nods and smiles. "I'm Sajeek, these are..," the vah shir trails off and looks at the elf sheepishly. "Sorry, your name is Syn, correct?" Sajeek asks. "Khae wrote in the snow, and that was very shortly after our raft crashed, so I might have misread it in the rush to find shelter," he says in way of an explaination.
Revery hands the books off to Quinaweniel after he discovers they give him a headache. "I believe these are powerful spells. If you can understand them I will be suitably impressed. I cannot." He smiles at her.
After Sajeek comes in and reports on observers, Revery is worried. As he puts on the mismatched clothing he found, he says "This respite has been a wonderful change from our shipwrecked condition, but I fear it is little better in terms of long-term survival."
He goes to find some boots or shoes that fit, and finds a pair that may have fit a large-footed goblin or a small human; or himself. He puts them on.
"We need to gather firewood, and to determine our surroundings. Food would also be nice. We can rely on Quinawenial's bread, but we'll have better odds if we can find unconjured food because she'll be better able to cast other spells. And as much as the thought of others spying us disturbs me, there is a chance they could be friendly, humans even. Or Elves or Vah Shir or Dwarves or whatever. So who would like to step outside with me for a quick survey? The fire is life, and we'll need wood too."
He then goes to look for another set of clothing, and finds only a pair of holey shorts, and a ragged tunic, both extremely soiled. He collects them anyways.
(hella dirty)
Maruusk, upon hearing of the prints outside, goes to see them. Shaking his head, he turns to the others, "My apologies, apparently I was more tired than I realized and I dozed off and I missed our observers."
He turns to him companions and guests. "I am Maruusk, Vah Shir of the Panther Clan. I must have done something to offend the Spirits and the Ancestors to end up here."
He looks somewhat embarrassed at that, and says, "I believe my luck has changed as I am here with you all. Together, perhaps we can manage to live through this and get back to our lives."
He looks over to the fire and food, "Is there some bread left? I would like to try that before I try my handle on fishing in the cold waters out there."
Gwendalyn looks concerned at the report of footprints. "I can look at the tracks, but I doubt that they'd tell me more than my bed. One nest fit me comfortably, while Quina had to put the other two together, small as she is. We may have defeated a child, with an adult and another child still out there. If you consider the height of the ceiling, and a proportionally larger pick..." She trails off and grabs the tiny pick that the little goblin had, then holds it up with her arm at full extension. "And that little one was very strong, or so my scalp tells me. I think that we need to plan carefully before even doing anything as simple as fishing or gathering firewood."
Revery looks sideways at Maruusk. "We all must have offended the Spirits and the Ancestors, then, for we all ended up here. But I don't know, I tend to attribute these things to more earthly causes, such as pirates trying to make slaves out of free people. And we don't know if our visitors came during your watch, or mine, or someone else's. I would bet your ears are better than mine..."
Revery is not really trying to make Maruusk feel better; he is merely interested in uncovering confusion as much as possible.
(Taking a look at the spellbooks)
"Thanks mr.Revery,but as expected i cannot understand them as well. We'll keep them until we both can learn the spells these book hold."
(For the nightwatch)
"I wasn't able to hear or see a thing,so no point in apologize.We are all weary; we can only stay vigilant as much as possible,and stay togheter."
(For Khae and Syn)
Quina introduces herself politely,but it is obvious she is uncomfortable with these two;there is something odd about them.
Having gathered as much mana as she can, Gwendalyn gently relieves Quinaweniel of the spellbooks. "Here, let me give it a try." Forewarned by the other two spellcasters, Gwendalyn doesn't try to really comprehend the spells, just get the general gist -- enough to identify them, no more.
Spellbook #1:
1st spell
2nd spell
3rd spell
Spellbook #2:
1st spell
2nd spell
3rd spell
Revery's assessment is correct that the group's supplies of wood was depleting at a rapid rate. The ship's decking burns for a long time, which makes it ideal for the purpose, but there was a forest just outside the 50' clearing beyond the cave entrance.
Foraging far from the entrance carried many risks, not the least of which was getting lost in the storm, or meeting up with the denizens of the lands beyond.
Syn, pronounced in a manner that rhymes with gin, extends a greeting with an impromptu bow that looks like he is dodging a thrown shoe due to the bound nature of his walking appendage. Khae had brought him one of the oars, to use as a crutch, but he had yet to stand and was instead using it to probe the inner sanctum of the fire logs.
The wood elf would normally be considered handsome, but right now he is pale and taking on the qualities of a drowned rat, "Hail, and well met. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Sajeek, Maruusk and Quinaweniel. I hold no illusions that I continue to draw breath due to your efforts and I will ever be in your debt for that."
No new information is gleaned about the spells within the book other than that they are not legible to any caster present and are far beyond any of you.
Stomachs growl.
Sajeek watches the moldy books get passed around. He chuckles to himself, and looks away. He didn't understand peoples fascination with books. 'To each there own, I suppose,' Sajeek thinks to himself.
Pushing off the wall, the beastlord scratches the healed wounds on his back. Leaning back against the wall, the vah shir scratches his back using the stone wall.
Sajeek's ears flicker at the thought of everyone sticking together. While he understood the safety in numbers, that same grouping would make it simple for any predators to spot the easiest one of them to take down. Whether or not the predators would be on four legs or two was another question.
"The storm is raging worse then yesterday," Sajeek says. "Scouting might be better once the storm has passed, or at least lessened." The young beastlord thinks for a few moments. "I could stay in the crawl way to keep a better eye out on anything attempting to get in. Until we can get more firewood, we should conserve the wood for the fire."
Gwendalyn smiles with pleasure at Syn's clear speech. "So you can remember things now! Good. Once again, I'm Gwendalyn of Halas. I'm a fighter, healer, alchemist, tailor, and drinker, in no particular order. Well, usually in that order, since it doesn't work so well reversed -- I mean, no particular priority. How about you?" Her smile is interrupted by her tummy rumbling like a small avalanche, and she grows pensive.
"We will have to get more firewood eventually, storm or no -- and I don't want to abandon such a safe place. If we split up to gather some wood and maybe even some meat, then I'm thinking that about half should stay here and half go. I'll go since I'm used to the cold." She looks at the wood elf's crutch and splint significantly. "Syn can't go, so Khae should stay to keep an eye on him, and also so that there's a healer here in case the other goblins come back while we're gone."
The young Halasite taps her chin and continues. "Maybe we should divide the rest like that too: Quinaweniel and Revery in different groups so that each has someone who can cast damaging spells, and Sajeek and Maruusk split up in the same way. Sajeek, you seem to know quite a lot about getting by in the wild; want to come with?"
Gwen pauses to think. "If we get attacked out there, then our best plan is to run back here; but if you get attacked here, then you need to hold out until we come back. So between Quina and Revery, I think that the one who should stay is the one who can cast the most spells. Whichever one that is." She shrugs. "But it's not like either of you is the sturdiest bough on the tree, so maybe you should both stay here. Just in case."
"So just me and one or two others going out. Does that all make sense? I'm just making a suggestion so that we have something to start with. If any of you have a reason for doing it otherwise, then please give it." The big shaman quotes her mentor with a wink, "'I'd rather be wrong and alive than right and dead.'"
"I would like to go out, personally, and I think Quinaweniel is more valuable back here because she can create food. If something happens to her, we may be forced to take additional undue risks to acquire more food. We both have spells that can help us outside." Says Revery.
"Syn, how are you feeling? I'm Revery. I hope you are recovering well. Don't worry about Khae, I think he's communing or something... But he's been taking care of you very well."
Gwendalyn looks at Revery, eyelids narrowed. "Really? Your reason is that you're more expendable? If something happens to you, then 'we may be forced to take additional undue risks' to dig a hole deep enough to bury you in. I think that you were telling the truth when you said that you would like to go outside, and that you should've stopped there. But I'll go with you anyway." She grins slightly and her left cheek rises in a half-wink.
"Oh, you'll let me go will you? Listen, it's not just about the risk of dying, but also of becoming incapacitated, or even if she is weak from casting and can cast no more. She is simply more valuable right now because her skills are more relevant to our situation," says Revery.
Maruusk listens to his companions planning. "Priorities are warmth and food at this point. With the storm, we should try to stay close. I think the forest is close enough to gather some kindling and some smaller logs. Any farther, and we could get lost in the storm. Not to mention the cold - we're clothed, but there's not that much to what we have. There's little enough to keep us warm."
Gwendalyn looks hurt at Revery's words. "Hey now! I made a point of not putting it like that. You can come and go as you please; it's only my place whether or not I go with you. I thought I was being respectful, and I'm sorry that it sounded like I was giving you permission; I meant the opposite."
She adds, "And besides, your skills are plenty relevant to our situation. No doubt that little goblin will not be the last thing that needs choking, and you can make yourself stronger to carry more wood."
Then she turns to Maruusk. "I hear what you're saying, so I'll lower my ambitions. We can at least survive on Quina's bread and water, so for now, I'll just get fuel for the fire and stay close. Right." She nods.
"So, it's me and Revery so far. Anyone who goes, I'll toughen up with Inner Fire in case we get ambushed. We'll see what we can get in ten minutes; if we don't have much yet and it seems safe, then we can stay out until we get what we need. Sound good?"
"Respectful, I see... And I had thought you were questioning my motives, again. Well, we are all still new to each other and we are perhaps not always understanding each other fully. But let me reassure you that my words are always said in earnest and for a reason. I'm not one for idle chit-chat, nor am I one who criticizes or praises easily. I have been known to lecture excessively on occasion; please realize I do it to educate and nothing more."
Revery realizes he has been talking, perhaps too much, and so he casts around for something he might use as a club, in self defense.
"Ah. I see." Gwendalyn realizes both that Revery really didn't get the emotional nuances in her face, and that he was absolutely serious about his tendency to lecture. She smiles. "Friends, then, and comrades-in-arms." She holds out her hand for him to shake, planning to pull him into a surprise tent hug (like an upside-down V) with a complimentary back pat.
"Gwendalyn and Revery, of course." Syn snaps his fingers, as if suddenly remembering her introduction, though it is blatantly obvious that he remembers nothing from his period of contra-lucidity. He extends his invitation to enwrap the barbarian and erudite it the warmth of the shared community.
"I am well." The fact that he winces every time he rubs his leg, it is obvious that he is a poor liar. "I...I..." The bard chews on his bottom lip after starting to speak with confidence. There is confusion in his eyes as his mouth works separate form his brain, producing only a few incomprehensible utterances. "I...do not remember."
Khae, dizzy from his inebriated jig, stops his ungainly dance and moves over to examine the wood elf's skull for signs of head trauma.
Clubs abound amongst the decking boards, railing and oars that the party fished out of the Timorous Deep.
Deadfall wood for several days worth of shameless burning is gathered from the closest trees and returned to the cave without incident. The wood will last much longer if the group cuts the size of the fire down significantly. It will be uncomfortable, and force them to sleep huddled together, but they will survive it (no fortitude rolls required).
During one of the last forays out of the cave you become aware of a large skittish deer huddled behind a copse of trees not 20' from your position. The storm steals the fine edge of its senses and it appears not to have noticed you yet.
Spotting the deer, Sajeek's focus instantly narrows and the deer is all that he is aware off. Creeping a little closer, the Beastlord stops. The snow would slow him down if he had to run after the deer, and he didn't have any from of ranged attack.
Calming his hunting instincts, Sajeek thinks for a few seconds as to how best it would be to hunt. Making a quick choice, the vah shir opens his muzzle and makes a bleating deer call.
All the young beastlord had to do was get within claw reach of the deer... Pushing the thought out of his head, he calls out to the deer again, giving the animal the deer equivalent to "Hey, I'm not out to eat you, everything's cool, no need to be scared."
Sajeek slowly makes up the ground between himself and the deer until he stands a mere 5' from the creature (half speed due to slippery/snow covered ground over tree stumps). He starts the process of allaying the beast's fears (takes 1 minute for animal empathy to be realized).
The deer sniffs the air, it's black nostrils huffing as it tries to draw in its surroundings.
Spot/Scent:
The deer is oblivious (critical failure on spot/scent) to the movements/actions of the rest of the party.
Revery sees the deer within his spell range, and decides it's best if he does not move. He is ready with his spell though, and will cast it as soon as a physical attack occurs. His mouth waters in anticipation of venison steak. And his mind looks at the deer's markings, and tries to figure if the deer and its surroundings (including the weather and the visible topography) give him clues as to where on Norrath they are.
Readied Action: Quickened Shallow Breath on deer.
Damage: , -2 STR and DEX
DC 19 Fort save for half and no ability loss
(mana: 12/16)
Knowledge/nature:
Knowledge/geography:
Revery is confident that they remain within the grips of the Timorous Deep and have either landed on the lost continent of Kunark, the continent of Faydwer, or one of the thousand islands that dot the sea.
Sajeek brazenly approaches the deer openly from upwind. While he keeps its attention focused in that direction, Gwendalyn circles around and sneaks up behind it from downwind, hoping to get close enough to swing her club at it.
Attack with club:
...for damage.
Maruusk watches from the cave entrance as he restocked the wood. "I hope that we get that deer..."
He looks back to the pile of kindling he was making with the rusty dagger. "We'll need to cut down on the fire size if we're going to survive any length of time here." He says this in a low voice, to the others in the cave.
I wonder how many deer there are around here, he thinks. Might mean there's something else around here.
Sajeek continues to calm the deer, stopping a few paces from the animal. It was quite a bit larger then the deer he had hunted on the plains. A soft purr rumbles out of the his throat, as the vah shir soothes the deer's instinct to run.
The young Beastlord is patient, not wanting to spook the animal. Out of the corner of his eye, he spies the giantess sneaking up from behind the deer.
When Sajeek is able to get with a good claw he will go for the throat. He doesn't want the deer to suffer. It was insulting enough to the spirit of the deer that Sajeek wouldn't be able to hunt the animal down.
Once Sajeek is within reach, he suddenly strikes, still purring.
Sajeek is afforded the time to ply his skill set (successful animal empathy check). It is difficult to define exactly what he is doing as it is a mixture of speed of approach, angle, permitting one's scent to be perceived, posture and subvocal verbalizations, but none can argue with his results. The deer stands straight up and even nuzzles (amiable attitude) against the beastlord as he closes the distance. He can feel the creature's fear as it shakes under his caress. The deer is nearly frozen to death.
The deer is oblivious to Gwendalyn closing in, or the movements of the rest of the party (no DEX bonus to AC, +2 circumstance bonus to attack rolls on the first attack only).
Betrayal is the order of the day and the first blow is Sajeek's to launch with tooth and claw. A split second after the vah shir finds purchase in the creature's flesh it is Gwendalyn slamming her impromptu club into the deer's side in tandem with the enchanter's spell.
Fort Save:
Flood flows, an expansive bruise runs along its flank, but the spell did not appear to find much in the way of purchase in the powerful animal.
The deer looks ready to bolt (incurring AoO from Gwend and Sajeek, please add these in your next post).
Initiative
- Party
- Deer
Heart heavy within his chest, Sajeek lashes out as the deer realizes the betrayal that the vah shir had intended. Sajeek had stopped his hypnotic purring, more concerned with ending the animal's fear and suffering.
As the mighty deer turns to bolt, Sajeek claws at the deer once again. Even if the animal doesn't drop, he should be able to track it from the blood it was losing.
Revery sees that his spell did not have its intended effect, at least not fully, and the physical attacks, though effective, were not enough. He tries the spell again, hoping it works better this time...
Shallow Breath (Recast: instant) on deer.
Damage: , -2 STR and DEX
DC 19 Fort save for half and no ability loss
(mana: 11/16)
Gwendalyn suppresses her panic at the thought of her venison steaks running away, and does what she should've done to start with. Keeping a wary eye on the deer's hooves, Gwendalyn incants mystical words in unison with gestures of deep symbolic meaning, and a small light briefly flashes into being, right in front of the deer's eyes.
.
.
Channeling to cast defensively vs. DC 16: Success
Mana 0/8 due to casting Inner Fire on all three of us before we went out the first time, though I assume it's expired.
As the deer leaps away, Gwendalyn takes one last hurried swing at her steak dinner. Desperation lends her strength, and she practically bats the deer out of the air.
In order to get the second claw swipe in as the deer fled, Sajeek had to get in closer, flanking the deer.
Taking full advantage of the tactical position (flanking, +2 to strike), claws dig into the deer's side, releasing another torrent of blood. The coppery bouquet finding its way to the beastlord's nostrils in spite of the storm's dedication to keep the olfactory lovers apart.
Revery bypasses the powerful creature's defences as if thy were nothing. Its huffs turn laboured as it tries to understand why it cannot take a deep breath anymore.
Fort Save vs. Shallow Breath:
Gwendalyn is able to protect herself from opening up her defences and permitting an errant hoof from caving in her skull (successful defensive casting), but her spell is foiled as the deer shakes off its effects with ease.
Fort Save vs. Flash of Light:
Fear pervades the soft doe eyes of the deer as it is assailed from all angles at once. It's muscles grow taut as it seeks a pathway away from the killing fields. It springs (incur attack of opportunity) and is in full sprint in a heartbeat, but in doing so it had left itself wide open to the predatory group thirsty for its flesh.
Sajeek is completely taken by surprise (critical failure) by the power of the creature. He turns left when he should go right, and in trying to right himself he finds himself falling (knocked prone).
Gwendalyn could not be more tuned into the creatures movements (critical success) if a bard had penned the tale. Not only does she find the mark, she also finds a lung, which collapses under her heavy blow.
The deer continues to run, but it is only in its mind for the last fleeting second of its life before its oxygen starved tissues falter and fall.
(end of combat)
500 pounds of deer lies dead at your feet.
Rolling over and pushing off the ground, Sajeek gets up. Looking at the deer, the beastlord walks over to it and kneels down infront of the doe. Holding the deer's head in his lap, Sajeek strokes the animals forhead. Leaning down he touches his forehead to the deers.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Sajeek says softly, comforting the deer in it's last few moments. Watching as the spirit leaves and the deer's eyes relax. "What a cheap way to hunt prey," he complains to himself as he stands back up.
Licking blood from his claws, his green eyes move over the deer corpse as he thinks. Such a large part of him wanted to dig into the fresh kill. That wouldn't do the others any good if he just gourged himself though. Fighting with his instinct for a few moments, he kneels down and begins to dress their kill. There was enough offal in the cave with out adding the deer guts to the stench.
Gwendalyn is moved by Sajeek's empathy for the deer, and then blanches when he begins to tear into it with his claws. That can't be sanitary. "Wait a sec, I'll get the dagger. And sterilize it. Be right back!" She runs to the cave, wiggles in, grabs the pick, and then goes to Maruusk. "Trade ya!" She pokes the dagger in the base of the fire until it gets hot enough to hurt; then she races back out, cools it in the snow, and hands it to Sajeek. "Be fast. Only remove what you have to. We need to get back in our den before other predators smell our kill."
Revery trots after the others as they approach the fallen prey. But when he sees Sajeek hold its head in his lap, and speak to it, he wonders what is going on.
"It's dying. We killed it. Why are you sorry? I don't understand; You're not even of the same order." Revery understands plenty about animals, but apparently there is more to them than is written in the books. He recalls the fear in the creature's eyes, and experiences a short pang of guilt, but he shrugs it off and instead watches the hunter carve up his prey. Their prey.
It is a little confusing, as one might expect a hunter, of a race of hunters, to be more callous and less empathic toward prey than, say, one such as Revery, who had never hunted and had eaten only meat butchered by others. Apparently that is not the case. Still, he does recall stories of barbaric peoples living close to the animals, befriending even wild ones, and even taking on aspects of them in magic and ritual. Perhaps their shared commonalities made them closer, and hunters were thus brought closer to their animal nature?
His mouth waters as he sees all the flesh they had acquired, while at the same time his stomach turns somewhat at the process being demonstrated before him. Small chunks of meat, skewered on a stick and held over the fire, was all they would need to sate their need for a healthy, meaty meal.
Intestines and stomach pulled a bit away from the deer's corpse, Sajeek waits for Gwendalyn to return with the knife. After thinking about for a few moments he waits for the giantess. Sajeek would rather avoid getting that mess on his claws if he could avoid it. Licking the blood off of his retractable claws, Sajeek looks up at Revery.
"I was apologizing to the spirit of the deer. We cheapened it's death. The spirit of the deer knows it's role within nature. At the end of hunt it will fall, not before," Sajeek says, his soft green eyes looking at the deer. "And I used the training I received from great Beastlord teachers to befriend and betray the doe in the manner of a few minutes." The young vah shir says softly. "It makes me feel unclean."
"I didn't want the deer's final moments to be filled betrayal and fear. Nothing should die that way," Sajeek says, his eyes looking off into the distance.
Taking the offered knife, Sajeek completes dressing out their kill. Thanking Gwendalyn for getting the knife he hads it back to the giantess.
The vah shir's eyes move over the surround area for a place to put the guts of the deer, since burying them was out of the question. He would have to settle for walking them a bit further away.
"Hold the deer up so more of the blood can drain out. We will have to carry it back, dragging the deer would leave a scent trail," Sajeek says. "I'm going to get rid of the entails."
Revery does not respond to Sajeek's explanation. It is something beyond his understanding, as mystical talk tends to be. Perhaps the deer has a spirit, or had one. Revery knows not.
When Sajeek mentions final moments with betrayal and fear, Revery stiffens, and his skin pales. He says nothing. After a close approximation of forever, Gwendalyn returns with a knife and Sajeek cuts up the deer. Revery tries to help, but is mostly in the way.
"We could use the entrails for fishing... If we bury them deeply enough in snow, perhaps they will not be smelled by scavengers?" He is guessing, of course.
"Before we bring it back, should we not cut it up more? It will be easier to carry, and will fit through the hole more easily."
Gwendalyn cleans off the rusty dagger in the snow and tucks it away, intending to apologize to Maruusk later for taking his preferred weapon. "We could keep a little of the entrails to use right away, but anything that lives here and isn't a castaway is probably used to sniffing out what's under the snow. Most likely if it isn't frozen too hard to use, then it won't stay where we put it." She taps her chin.
"But that's a good point, it has to be smaller than the whisky barrel or it won't fit. We may have to skin and butcher it right here. Revery, please ask the others to gather at the entrance in case we're attacked -- this won't take long, but we'll be vulnerable -- and maybe bring back the pick. Once it's skinned, one of us could be separating the legs while another cuts the meat off the trunk." The young tailor pulls out the dagger, intending to skin the deer herself, although she's more accustomed to skinning wolves.
Maruusk looks up as Gwen forces herself into the cave. He looks up a hands her the knife and takes the pick. "Did you get the deer?" He watches as she heats the knife, and then moves to the entrance to watch.
He hefts the pick and hoes nothing comes out of the trees...