You have been hired to investigate the fate of Fort Walmor. Originally a small depot for traders and treasure hunters travelling Sargava and the Mwangi Expanse, Fort Walmor now houses only the dead. Worse, the stones and timber of the fortress -- already permeated with the pain, anger, and sorrow of a slave camp -- came to house the concentrated rage and vengeful fury of the last fateful night of its inhabitants. The first unwary travelers that attempted to dock all met with terrible, violent ends. Fort Walmor is known locally as The Slavers’ End and is widely regarded as a cursed place, haunted by the souls of angry dead.
You are on the beach next to a wrecked slaver barge on the beach below the fort itself. An eerie drumming comes from inside the barge.
Gideon Hawke doesn't look like he should have a name like that, a Taldan or maybe Andoren name. The loose browns and grays of his clothing and the veil and head wrapping suggests Qadira but his almond shaped eyes betray Tian heritage. Whoever he is, he moves up the beach with an easy grace, scimitar already out. He cocks his head and listens to the eerie drumming for a moment.
He turns towards the other adventurers hired to investigate Slavers' End. "That looks like our first stop!" His right leg twitches restlessly, his foot beating a soft tattoo on the sand. He is clearly impatient and ready to get into some trouble.
A bald blue armored humanoid takes a leisurely stroll along the beach, letting the sea lap over his lower leg, a smile of contentment with each wave that cools him. A smile crosses his face, his mind takes him back to his time in Karvasser Harbour, his home. The reveries are interrupted by Gideon's words, he shakes his head and brings himself to a state of readiness, unsheathing his friend, the longsword, and shaking the shield on his arm into place, "Ready." a deep gravelly voice replies. The shield shines in the daylight, a sun with white wiggling flares surround the round fiery centre, the same motifs are painted on his armor's left shoulder.
His green and white eyes blink at the barge in front, as he listens to the sounds from within, his forehead frowns with each drumming. "Time to see if the stories are true."
The tall lanky man pulled his hood back mindlessly, revealing his bone white complexion. His strange sapphire blue eyes scanned the wreckage carefully as the other two mercenaries idlely bemused the situation. Calmly drawing his rune-etched longsword, he began to muttered aloud in draconic. Obviously words of arcane might, as the words were accompanied by a soft white glow eminating from the runes of his sword, before washing over the iradesently robed man. "We should take care not to follow in the same steps as those explorers who came before us. And never left..."
A dark wooden shield on his left arm, Tudan brings his horse to a halt and dismounts easily, despite a full backpack and a clearly twisted leg. The 6'-tall humanoid's metallic gold hair flashes in the sunlight as he looks his horse in the eye and smiles. "Horse, guard."
After winding the reins loosely around the saddle's pommel to keep them out of Horse's way, Tudan picks up a few rocks from the beach, holding them in his left hand while he sing-talks briefly and gestures with his right hand. He turns to the others, pulling out his halfling sling staff and dropping a stone into it with careless grace. "I'm ready now."
Gideon's eyes sparkle and you can sense the smile behind his veil, eagerly anticipating the danger ahead. He darts forward on the balls of his feet looking for access to the interior or deck of the ship.
The interior of the Merrow's Scowl is dim and rank with the sickly-sweet smell of rot. Foodstuffs piled high against the walls of the ship have long since spoiled and become fertilizer for strange and unpleasant looking molds and fungi. The bottom of the ship has dissolved into the damp, silty mud of the Lower Korir River. Your first steps into the hold cause you to sink into muck; this provides the mixed blessing of allowing you to walk upright, but impedes your movements at the same time. Four support struts hang tenuously from the crossbeams above, connected by a corroded metal shaft that runs through them, anchored to the stern and aft. Rusted manacles hang from the rod, dangling into the muddy riverbank. Wedged awkwardly into the stern is a crumbling makeshift altar.
The drumming noise seems to be coming from the altar.
Surveen strides with purpose into the beached wreck of a ship. He stands in the muddy water, that sloshes around his boots. His eyes blink as he spies the altar, as he tries to identify any religious symbols there. Using his longsword, he flicks some weed floating in the water away, as he moves forward.
Tudan walks into the distasteful ruins of a despicable ship with a measured pace, as slowly as Surveen (but without the heavy armor). Though he can still see just fine, the color bleaches slightly from his vision. Well-aware of his human companions' limitations, Tudan holds his sling staff briefly with his left hand, reaches into his belt pouch, draws out a burned-out ioun stone that burns with a continual flame, and tosses it up to orbit his head.
Gideon moves inside the darkened ship's hold (E13). He mutters a few quick words and his scimitar glows with a warm yellow white light. By the light shed he examines the interior for something dangerous.
Sharadon grimaced as he stepped into the mud. He fought hard to resist the urge to hike up his robes to avoid getting muck on them. "If it isn't blood thirsty monsters, it's hideous conditions!" Despite himself, he tried to keep pace with the rest.
The damp river mud sucks eagerly at your boots. Ahead of you on the altar you see the ghostly form of a primitive idol, in the shape of a grinning demonic monkey. It is the source of the eerie drumming.
You know, I didn't get into this business to avoid dan
ger but even I'm not crazy enough to just walk up to that thing. What is it?
Surveen stops, ready to press on, he uses his training to discover more about the idol.
Taking a deep breath, Sharadon tredged forward more, reaching a spot along the sunken vessel he deemed appropriate. Stopping in his tracks, Sharadon ran his hand along the face of his sword, causing it's runes to once more flare to life. Muttering draconic incantations, the wizard's eyes shimmered with energy as he examined the altar from a distance.
Surveen stops momentarily, ready to press on, he uses his training to discover more about the idol, but he continues forward, behind his shield.
The altar and grinning devil monkey are magical, with an aura of moderate necromancy. The entire boat reeks of evil. The idol itself is somehow... not quite there. It has the feel of a reflection or an echo. A closer examination is required to tell more. The rythmic tribal drumming noise is definitely coming from the altar.
"This is disturbing. As it happens, I have just the thing for that!" Tudan reaches into his belt pouch and pulls out a scroll. As he reads it, the words fly off the page and spiral up into the ether; when he finishes, a feeling of confidence descends from where the words went, bolstering the group's aim and morale.
"Why didn't you say so before. Time to go pick up something dangerous!
Newly bolstered, Hawke trudges through the muck towards the idol.
As Gideon slogs forward, Tudan remarks, "You know, I really don't like the sound of those drums. Fortunately, I have something for that too." He reaches into his belt pouch for a third time; however, instead of reading a scroll of silence, Tudan pulls out a pair of earplugs and inserts it in his pair of ears. The easygoing aasimar smiles and relaxes, but it doesn't help you at all.
Sharadon continued along with Gideon, making sure to stay close enough to lend assistance if things should go badly. "Take care not to fall through the deck. This whole thing is a rotted coffin." Once he reaches a position he's comfortable with, he begins another draconic incantation.
"I say we destroy this altar to evil and stop it's malignant curse on this place, send the idol back to its home." as the paladin strides up to the altar striking it with his longsword.
If nothing happens to Gideon at E7, he will continue and strike the idol when Walsh hits the altar.
As Gideon reaches the altar the idol disappears. The sound of brutal, bloody battle erupts from all around, punctuated by shrieks and maddened ululations. A wave of furious - unnatural - rage rolls over Gideon.
At the same time, as if summoned by the sound of battle, bloody bones heave themselves out of the deep mud. Three skeletons leer and rattle their mud-coated scimitars.
The mage sneered as the trap was sprung. Things like this were never easy, but he absolutely loathed the undead. Quickly a spell of burnig power lept to mind as the skeletal attackers pulled themselves from their muddy graves and made ready for war.
Although expecting trouble, the well-prepared aasimar wasn't expecting bloody skeletons in the muck. Still, he's already armed and blessed, ready to rumble with the restless dead.
Tudan knows a lot about undead and he knows all about these guys. "Use bludgeoning weapons, and concentrate your attacks due to fast healing!"
The undead rattle their bones into combat, wielding their scimitars with an empty grin.
BS1 attacks Surveen: ;
BS2 attacks Tudan: ;
BS3 attacks Gideon: ;
Tudan cries out in pain as the bloody skeleton's scimitar strikes true, finding a spot unprotected by his enchanted chain shirt. Putting his light darkwood shield forward and waving his magical halfling sling staff around, the resourceful aasimar begins plotting how to deal with this undead ambush.
Surveen grimace as the skeleton's strikes past his shield and slices his neck, crimson blood starts to flow from the wound, mixing in streaks of red with the muddy water below. Surveen turns and smiles at the evil creature, his londsword headed for the creature neck, "tit for tat you bunch o' bones."
Lightly tapping the face of his blade, the inscribed runes began flaring to life. Tiny tendrals of flame lept from them as Sharadon began chanting in a heavy draconic tongue. As his voice pitched louder, he outstretched his arm and allowed a bolt of pure magical fire to blast forward, towards the skeleton attacking Gideon.
Surveen's longsword very narrowly misses the grinning skeleton, which continues to leer at him from sightless mud filled eyes. Likewise, Sharadon's bolt of flame spends itself scorching the rotting wall of the ship.
The shrieks and clamor of demented battle still fill the air.
You give the target a mental urge to kill its nearest ally, which it obeys to the best of its ability. The target attacks its nearest ally on its next turn with a melee weapon or natural weapon. If necessary, it moves to or charges to the nearest ally in order to make this attack. If it is unable to reach its closest ally on its next turn, the target uses its turn to get as close as possible to the ally.
The bone-white mage prepared yet another arcane spell when he noticed a strange gleam in Gideon's eyes. He couldn't pin-point it, but he felt something was seriously wrong.
Gideon looks at Sharadon as though he's never seen such a vile insect before. His eyes narrow as he tilts his head to the side. Flowing over the muddy floor like furious water, he slashes out at Sharadon.
Oh no. Tudan sees Gideon slice deeply into Surveen with his magical scimitar, and knows what he has to do. This is going to hurt... He does his best to keep up his defenses while pulling his only remaining scroll out of his pockets, but it isn't the same as using both hands, and he knows he might leave an opening for the bloody skeleton to strike -- but he does it anyway.
As Tudan reads the scroll, the written words spiral off of the page and ascend into the ether as before -- but this time, they descend from above the battle-mad magus, the strings of glyphs of intangible ink surrounding him, and then tightening their circles until they all absorb into his skin at once.
The skeleton takes the opportunity to slash at Tudan with its scimitar.
The visions fade and Gideon sees Sharadon's blood on his blade.
The skeletons attack.
The skeleton's strike clatters against Surveen shining armor, the stocky Undine laughs as he sweeps his blade forward once more, feeling the touch of the gods propel his blade towards his enemy.
Surveen's blade crunches through clavicle, vertebra, and rib. Though perhaps not as effective as a club, the long sword strike suffices. A heap of bones collapses into the mud at Surveen's feet and is swallowed into darkness.
"Oops. Terribly sorry about that, Sharadon. You looked like someone else for a moment. I'll make it up to you."
With a quick smile at his hurt companion, Hawke charges his sword with arcane power causing it to glow lightly and crackle with electricity and steps toward the nearest skeleton and attacks.
The slippery mud causes Hawke to stumble and his attack misses the mark but his sword still spits sparks, ready to be used again.
Quickly backpeddling away from Gideon, Sharadon clutches at the wound in his side. Not sure what to make of the situation, he quickly decides to try and dispatch the undead, and deal with his murderous companion afterwards. "Everyone watch out, I think that drumming has driven Gideon mad!"
Quickly weaving another acrane incantation, the mage lets loose another volley of magical fire at the offending skeletal abomination.
With mage reels from the blow, desperately clutching at the wound on his side. "Gods man, watch where your swinging that meat cleaver. I've not the blood to spare for any more of that!"
Seeing the skeletal creature bound forward and attack Gideon, Sharadon swallows hard and follows his companion's attempt up with his own. Reaching out toward the creature, he begins to once again chant in draconic tongue. This time, his hand begins to crackle with lightning, arcs of elecrticity leaping back and forth between his outstretched digits. Grasping and the skeleton's armor, he tries desperately to find just the slightly touch of metal.