A ball of crackling electricity suddenly manifests a few yards away from the creature feeding on the fallen Ibrox. Drawn by Zove's illusion, the creature flutters away from the gnome giving Aterro an opening to safely heal his fallen comrade. The cleric channels the healing power of Thor into the gnome causing wounds to cauterize and fluids to drain back to their proper places and after a few seconds Ibrox coughs several times and spits a bunch of blood and ooze from his mouth as he regains his senses.
Moments later Vrindel conjures his magical stones only to misjudge the amount of natural energy coursing through the area after the electrical storm. The overcharged stone gives him a shock and throws off his aim as it just misses clipping Aterro in the ear.
Finnigan has better luck with his crossbow, landing another hit that rips a hole in the creatures wing.
The one still engaged moth hovers over Trevor seeking another way through the knights armor to the juicy flesh below. It probes with its sharp proboscis, but as it does so something unexpected happens. The combination of Trevor's drenched state, metallic chain armor, and the creatures own electrical charge seems to create a feedback loop that causes little harm to the knight but shorts out the moth's natural electrical charge in a loud series of pops, crackles, and snaps. Smoke drifts from the tips of the insect's wings and it suddenly drops to the ground stunned.
"Ahahah!" shouts Trevor as the moth stuns itself.
"Aw, cr4p!" he adds, as he is laughing so much he can't aim and misses.
Ibrox glimpses the lightning-filled wings of moths the size of himself and watches with wide eyes as they crash toward him and suck the life from him. Then, darkness.
The familiar smell of brimstone wakes him. Through squinting eyes, a horned shadow backlit by bright, fiery oranges and reds looms over him. He felt disappointment not fear. He failed, called to pay his debt before he successfully reversed the curse of his people.
Then, he feels a clawed foot booting him away at the same a time a familiar demonic voice reverberates in his mind,
Sharply inhaling the lack of brimstone, he coughs several times and spits a bunch of blood and ooze from his mouth as he regains his senses. This time, the looming shadow over him is Brother Aterro after blinking Hell from his eyes. His cheerful smile returns, "thanks for bringing me back. Hope to return the favor one day."
He jumps to his feet and attacks the moth that put him down.
Finnigan takes in the sight of Trevor laughing hysterically as he swings his axe at the moth on the ground like he's trying to chop firewood and the log keeps rolling...
"Here, let me help you with that..." he says grimly as he stabs his knife through a wing hoping to pin the creature. "Try now."
Confidant that Trevor will be able to finish it now, he keeps one hand driving the knife through the wing into the clay ground and with the other he readies his crossbow to fire on the fourth moth in case it is not led away by Zove's illusion.
With Thor's blessing, and a bit of additional encouragement from his patron, Ibrox returns to the land of the living. With a almost purely instinctual response, the gnome quickly blasts the moth sitting near Trevor.
Aterro follows up the gnome's eldritch bolt with the tried and true destroyer of insects, smashing it flat with a big hammer. The cleric's blow crushes the giant insects head and much of the main body, once again splattering himself, Trevor and Finnigan in copious amounts of sticky insect goo.
Just to make sure the flattened creature is truly dead, Finnigan rips his through the still twitching winds and into the only portion of its body that wasn't crushed by the previous blow. He then snaps off a shot with his crossbow which sinks deep into the creature drawn away by Zove's illusion.
Zove, having made a little room between the party and the last moth, strikes true with her shadow fire and the formerly threatening creatures wings sear and sizzle.
Vrindel takes a deep breath to steady himself after almost hitting one of his teammates, and releases his last enchanted pebble.
Throwing Magic Rock
Impact of said rock
But in his care not to hit one of his companions, he also misses the enemy.
"Drat! That was a bad batch. I'll have to enchant some more".
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Confident that the attention of the rest of his companions can slay the last moth, and one to hate letting a job go unfinished, Aterro stalks back to his first target, the moth that he hit once, then was thrust unto slumber.
Almost mournfully he intones, "Ignorance is a virtue."
Again the hammer rises.
Again...the hammer has fallen.
The one remaining moth releases a blast of energy similar to the one its companion unleashed earlier. But the instinctual response does little harm as the creature is two far away for the blast to affect anyone. It then flits off into the trees preferring to find easier prey.
Aterro steps up to put an end to the damaged and sleeping creature with another mighty hammer blow.
Ibrox kneels down and starts to examine the dead moths for potential useful material, while ignoring the escaping moth.
"Check his arse," Finnigan supplies helpfully. "I'm sure an electric moth should have a silk-spinning gland somewhere in his nether regions."
Trevor looks at Finnigan with questioning eyes, then quickly looks away, pretending not to have heard, in case he meant for him to do it.
"Mean insects... Ibrox, how are you? I mean, physically." he asks, then blushes.
The creature zigs to the left while Zove's bolt zags to the right and bursts against a sodden tree branch causing it to steam and hiss for a few seconds before the shadow fire extinguishes itself. The moth continues its weaving escape until it is nothing more than a distant sparkle in the deep forest.
Ibrox conducts a gooey and sticky examination of the two pulverized creatures. He finds little of use or value since Aterro's hammer did a very thorough job of ending their existence in Midgard. The only exception being one of the creatures wings are still slightly intact. The delicate, colorful appendages still flutter slightly in the soft breeze. With a bit of careful work, the gnome could gather a reasonably useful specimen.
Their wings are sometimes collected by wizards or other practitioners of the magical arts. It is believed that a slight increase in potency can be achieved by adding a bit of ground shockwing to certain electrically oriented spell components.
” let’s go on, till we find a good place to camp. I have some healing magic if anyone needs it”.
"Yes, if we could find a nice spot like last time? That was amazing! Dry, sheltered, comfy, with a good meal! And yes, some healing too, if possible..." says Trevor, beaming at the idea of the perfect campsite.
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As was his habit, after the combat Aterro moved off apace and knelt down on his hammer to give thanks to Thor for success in battle. Aterro reflected in the fullness of it all. He was not only able to slay two beasts, he was also able to keep a comrade from death's door. Surely he was on the path that Thor lead him to!
When he felt himself properly centered, he rose in time to hear Vrindel calling for again moving onward (and, thankfully, was spared thinking on Finnigan's new obsession with insect butts). "Aye, Trevor, you have the right of it! Let us be on. We have much to do and standing here will bring us no closer to it.
But by all means, let us keep an eye out for a good place to shelter. Something over the head and a spot dry enough for a good fire are never unwelcome."
Vrindel helps the ever useful Brother Aterro look for a campsite.
Examining the moth, Ibrox says, "This particular breed of giant moth is known as a Shockwing, and they are common among the forests and lands where there tend to be a higher number of electrical storms. Drawn by the charges generated by strong storms, the moths can be quite a menace if they happen to congregate in large enough groups. Their wings are sometimes collected by wizards or other practitioners of the magical arts. It is believed that a slight increase in potency can be achieved by adding a bit of ground shockwing to certain electrically oriented spell components."
It takes a couple of tries and one of the wings is ruined in the process, simply crumbling into powdery bits. But, Ibrox manages to carefully remove the remaining wing. A delicate, soft, lace-like fiber that he wraps and stores so that it will hopefully be able to survive the trip to Nargenthal.
After his surgery, Ibrox replies to his companions, "Thorson Aterro healed most of my injuries. I'm still a little wounded, but nothing a good night sleep cannot cure."
"I have never seen moths like that before. Makes you wonder what their purpose in nature is... I might study them to see if I can determine if they should continue their existance".
"Yes this camping spot looks good. Let me see to your wounds".
Cure wounds on Trevor
Cure wounds on Ibrox
"Now try not to do anything tomorrow to cause more wounds".
Trevor looks to Vrindel, first thankful, then somewhat resentful: "It's not like we attacked those moths, yes? I mean, I don't go looking for trouble. I mean, not most times. I mean, not THIS time... All right, I'll stay out of trouble tonight... Let's just hope trouble stays out of me as well... Wait! It's a conundrum, right?"
As soon as he can, Trevor removes his boots with a lot of drama, wincing from and commenting on their tight fit, then removes his socks and places them carefully, along with his boots, as close to the flames as he can: "Dry feet!" he explains, beaming widely.
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After Aterro has found a dry spot, he grasps a small tree and RIPS it out of the ground. He dumps it on the ground and then does this again. When three trees have made a nice pile, he points at them, growling, "Blessings of Loki." Unable to dodge the fire, the trees begin crackling in the Sacred Flame, warming Trevor and his feet.
The war cleric once again outshines Finnigan in woodcraft skills as Aterro finds a reasonably dry, sheltered, and defensible campsite for the evening. With a warm fire and peaceful evening and night the party wakes the next morning rested and ready for another day's march.
The morning dawns bright and sunny with a warm westerly breeze. The road continues the winding journey along the coastal cliffs offering spectacular views of the sea and the shore below. An occasional sail of some passing ship can be seen far out along the horizon, heading to some port of call far from this lonely stretch of Midgard.
The morning wears on and the road once again starts to drop into a small valley. The birdsong becomes distant and quiet, replaced by the sound of singing wafting along the breeze from the shoreline at the base of the lowering cliff. The beautiful, melodious, feminine sound drawing you forward toward the cliff's edge with fascination and curiosity to discover who could be behind such lovely music.
Trevor choses not to thank Loki for the firewood. He sleeps deeply and probably snores most of the night, starting a chorus echoed by distant owls.
The next morning, he is a new man. Fresh, smiling, staring at the horizon, feeling the fresh air heal his mind and body. He thanks Khors secretly and renews his vow to serve Him and, one day, restore Krakova to its former glory.
But then the road slowly grinds it all away, and all he can feel are his feet, enclosed toot tightly and screaming for space. He pays little attention to the signing.
Finnigan thinks he must be dreaming as the melodious and mellow tones of the female voice drift into his subconscious mind.
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Aterro sleeps deeply, dreaming of wielding a mighty hammer and slaying vampires, a dozen at a swing. He wakes refreshed and ready. He boils hot water for breakfast and eats mightily, consuming the tough salted pork and crunchy hard tack with gusto.
When they take to the road his eyes often raise to the skies, thinking what Thor has planned for him.
"Oh by Thor's belt Megingjord and the lovely necklace Brisingamen, what is that infernal sound?" Aterro declares, looking around for something to smash.
A steel-fisted hand comes down on Fin's shoulder. "The cliff is dangerous. Stay back a bit, brother."
Wisdom save
”I hear it. It sounds beautiful . I wonder if there is a safe way to get down? That cliff is too dangerous “
Around the campfire, the cheerful gnome apprises his companions. The fey has arcane knowledge of curses, which would be helpful. The disciple of Thor can kill and heal. Now, the trollkin druid can heal, too. The two male humans, on the other hand, would make fine set of maps and boots...
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Later the next day, "What's that beautiful, melodious, lovely music? Do we want to check it out? Or keep on going?"
The melody continues to fill the air. Aterro, seemingly immune from the siren call quickly grabs Finnigan who stumbles toward the cliff's edge only a few steps ahead of Zove. The rest of the party quickly shake off the entrancing effects of the mysterious song. All except Zove.
The distracted shadow fey shambles forward hardly noticing the croaked warning of her amphibious companion. With her strong slap and harsh words, the little creature's eyes narrow menacingly at Zove as its frog lips mutter various curses regarding her parentage and her resulting dry, slime-free skin. All of this as it prepares to leap to safety before the wizard tumbles over the edge of the cliff.
"Zove? What are you doing?" The cheerful gnome questions his fey friend, not realizing impending death.
"Zove, NO!" shouts Trevor as he lunges for the jumper.
Vrindel was busy musing at what creatures might make the sound, when he hears Trevor's shout. He quickly reacts by shoving his quarterstaff into the ground, pointing, and causing a mass of vines and roots to appear between Zove and the edge of the cliff.
Trevor just manages to grab Zove by her tunic as she leans out over the cliff. At the same time the grasses and nearby roots suddenly animate preventing the young shadow fae from instantly dropping over the side should she slip free of the knight's grip. Aterro tries to maintain his grip on a squirming Finnigan who, like Zove, is drawn to the music coming from the sea.
Both of the creatures down below watch the struggle on the cliff eagerly. The first creature still singing. The second, wets her lips and breathes deeply, perhaps readying to add her own song to the mix.
Trevor pulls Zove like he was but a butterfly and shoves him in the graspy grass, then walks up to him and slaps him like he saw him do with the frog: "That's how you cure it? Yes!? That's what you used to save your turtle!" he says, confident his knowledge of all things arcane is growing.
Ibrox approaches the group trying to see over the cliff and keep the protection of the entangle. "What's over the cliff?"
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"Bwha? Be still, brother," Aterro says as Fin struggles against him with all his might, seeming to try to get to the dangerous edge with fervent intensity.
Aterro drops his hammer and brings his other hand to bear, trying to use his Asgardian-inspired strength to keep his friend from a certain fate.
Aterro snakes both arms around in an iron-like full nelson grip. "Be...steady...Fin--what's gotten in to you?" he gasps out.
"I should have known! He's after my Mistress! You think she'll fancy you just because you've got me in a headlock Aterro! Think again! She sings for me! For me!"
Finnigan squirms against the restraint of Aterro's bicep.
"Wait, do I sound crazy right now? I feel crazy. That singing isn't even all that good to be honest. I've heard better round the pub. Zove, I wouldn't bother. Waste of time as far as I'm concerned. Do as you like though, it's a free world after all."
Trevor's harsh treatment simply invigorates Zove in her attempts to reach the source of the entrancing song. But the knight maintains his hold with the help of Vrindel's vines and the shadow fae doesn't leap from the cliff. Finnigan, wrestled to the ground by Aterro, manages to shake the lure off just in time for the second mermaid to begin her own siren call.
The musical notes waft up the cliff from the sea below, and once again everyone feels drawn toward this new source of enchanting song.
As Vrindel moves closer to the edge of the cliff... carefully, one can notice the grass grows visibly where he steps, and small plants and vines sprout in his footsteps, small butterflies and dragonflies zooming in on these areas.
"I hear the songs... but I feel them as well".
And just to be on the safe side Spirit Whispers
Will Save
Advantage