As the hours go by Antal's wounds heal some what.
Thinking that the boat owner might be in a bad mood. Antal goes shopping for a gallon of ale (2sp). And not knowing how many nights they might be in the wilds He looks to purchase a hooded lantern (5gp), and 6 flasks of oil (6sp). He checks over his tools of the trade, and thinks he has everything that is needed, but perhaps a grappling hook (2gp) could come into use. So he look to get one of those as well. So Antal goes shopping and tries to spend 7gp and 8sp.
Shopping taken care of you head to the docks.
Snorri is what Antal expected and anticipated. He is dirty, smelly, fat and bearded. He is arrogant and puffed up, well pleased with his position of "power" over these outlander adventurers.
Me n' mine ha' been fishin' these waters for four generations... and until now ALL of us ha' th' sense to steer well clear of tha' thrice cursed place! We'll do it my way or we twaint doin' ut at all! Wha' ha' ye t' say?, he growls at you, accent thick and his language verging on being a dialect all of its own.
"What do you mean, my way?"
Ill be a dropin' Ye off on th' island. Twice a day... an hour past dawn, n' an hour afore sunset I'll swing by near th' drop off. 'Fin' Ye need I's an th' boat? Ye signal. I'm good for a week then th' compact wit' th' Captain is fufilled. Next? Any funny bus'ness'? Anything I's not happy wit' like unexplainable extra people wit' tentacles an' such? I baint be pickin' yor sorry selfs up.
"Ah captain, I am very sorry for all the trouble that we may have caused. Please take this jug of ale to help pass the time when you are waiting for our arrival back to the boat. And perhaps we might find say a nice pair of boots for you, so you can step out on the the with once all this nasty business is done. What do you think?"
Antal hands over the gallon of ale to the captain.
"Now can we take a look at this great water craft of yours?"
"Understood, captain."
"I don't really see any of us growing tentacles or anything like that. As long as if we show up injured you don't try and knife us to take our stuff, I think we can keep things peacible."
Varis found himself struggling to understand the captains words.
Varis pulled out his notebook pretending to write down a note and loudly uttering "No new passengers with tentacles." Closing the book Varis continued "Ok if there are no other rules I guess we can get under way."
The 'Captain' Picks you up before the sun rises and you head out onto the sluggish dark waters towards the dark mass that is The Hill.
The journey, only punctuated by occasional grumbles from the boatman and his son, takes maybe 30 minutes or so, with the Captain then steers the ship to the left and along the coast, ostensibly looking for a landing spot. The sound of Cicadas and other insects chirp, buzz and click pulses across the water.
The predawn paints terrain in shades of grey before Snorri grunts in satisfaction.
This'll do... this be yor pickup point, he says, steering into a shore that seems to allow him to put you off the boat without him having to beach the craft. There's nothing to do but slide over the side into thigh high water.
The water is surprisingly NOT cold... it's tepid in fact.
Mind wha' I said - Twice a day... an hour past dawn, n' an hour afore sunset I'll swing by near th' drop off, he says while you struggle up the river bank.
"Duly noted, Captain.", replies Iocundius with a quick turn of his head towards the boat.
He faces the shore once again, and continues wading, wary of trouble.
"We have quite the day ahead of us. Let us not waste it."
Kalia sinks in the water up to near her shoulders, but shoves her way through the water and onto the shore.
"Aye, let's go start a war."
"Are you sure captain that you can't get a little closer? Some of us will have to swim ashore. Over there right next to the beach looks to be a good spot."
Antal looking at the very deep water and not wanting to have to swim for the shore.
With help the Halfling is able to get ashore.
As the sun continues to rise the lush scenery comes into clearer view. The trees here would all be prime lumber, being 40 or 50 feet tall... prime lumber if not for the fact the trees twist, bend and warp oddly, as if the trees were trying to grow away from the earth itself, and cared not for symmetry or nature in their efforts. Much of the grass is spindly and harsh, almost like spines, though covered sporadically by fallen leaves shed by the distressed trees.
The sunlight is dimmed by the canopy of wild branches as you move inland. There is no path here and the ground is treacherous with stones, divots and deadwood that threaten to turn the unwary heel. Throughout the atypically the warm air is the constant thrum of insects... indeed within minutes you are slapping at various midges and mosquitoes, each piercing any available flesh in search of a meal...
Iocundius tries his best to ignore the irritations of the local insect life.
"Does anyone see a route through this befouled land, besides just moving in the direction of the hill?"
The priest of the Order of Law thinks he spies a winding route that is more conducive to moving around the side of this shoreline rather than a difficult climbing march up the slope of The Hill...
"This way. Around the shore.", adds Iocundius, realising what is front of his eyes.
"you lead we will fallow."Antal replies ad he slaps one of the blood suckes on his arm.
"What do these thing eat when they can't have halfling?" he says out loud.
"Probably Gnome." Kalia said in reply to Antal's comment.
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"Well done Iocundius, this route looks much more promising. We should be wary of trouble, who knows what we will find out here."
Looking at the mangled woods and surrounding lands Varis sighs dishearteningly. "Something troubling has been transpiring here unchecked for quite some time."
The way leads you around the coast of The Hill... if not for the water of The River you feel you could get easily lost, indeed there is a feeling here that puts your teeth on edge, as if your emotions were being slowly rubbed with sandpaper, to say nothing of the confusion of plants and terrain.
You come out on a river bank that has been cleared of trees, probably in the last few weeks. Green logs make poor rafts but if you're going to guess, going by the stumps and wood chips, this is where the forces from The Hill obtained the timber. Strangely the drag marks go down to the water rather than inland. There is evidence, albeit faded by the passage of time, that there were many people working here.
There is a small trail moving inland through the twisted verdant landscape but again like many things here, inconsistently, it looks under used or perhaps unused for a time for the number of boot and foot depressions in the earth.
Iocundius looks about him with distrust.
"The more I see of this island, the less I like it.", he states.
"The trail is old but it is superior to traipsing through the rest of that wretched excuse for a forest. The trail it is."
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Antal takes in account of all the strange plant life. And tries to remember what types of trees they were taking.
"Well that's odd. I did not know that Bamboo trees were native in these parts. I wounder why they were cutting so many?"
Kalia seems unfazed by the island. It's clear that whatever is going on, it doesn't rise above her tolerance for annoying things.
There is a change, subtle at first then unmistakable... the woods change, the trees straighter, the foliage less harsh. The trail opens into a shady glen, covered in wildflowers some the like you haven't seen before.
There is a strange low buzzing in the air.
Iocundius continues to look about with deep suspicion.
"I like this even less. It feels like a deception, to lull us into complacency. Do any see what creature is causing that buzzing sound?"
"Agreed." growls Kalia, who then storms out into the middle of the clearing and shouts "Greenskins, get your a@#es out here so you can die!"
Nothing appears and the buzzing does not stop... moving carefully onwards you can see the source of the noise. Bees, LARGE bees. Bees the size of the dwarfs thick thumb... they buzz and hum throughout the grove. You can see what may be hives... staked hobgoblins, that have been hollowed out. One of the figures, a moody rotten green, it's features all but rotted off, still weakly flails an arm in small circles, even while bees crawl in and out of its cut open stomach and chest, the cavity dripping a viscous pale fluid.
"We need fire. Lots and lots of fire."
Iocundius glares in disgust at the sight.
"I shall end that remaining goblinoid. Do any have oil to set these ablaze? ", Iocundius says as he raises his holy symbol.
The sound of a bell reverberates.
The hobgoblin falls still as there is a loud deep ominous peal of an iron bell... which reverberates over and over again, as if the sound is caught in a cave, slowly dispersing...
"Once we were done with these foul mockeries of beehives, we should see if there is indeed a cave over yonder."
The sound was all around you, as if YOU were in a cave... despite the open sky through the foliage.
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Gaelden looked as nauseated as he felt. He was happy to fight just about anything, but the sheet amount of *magic* was leaving him feeling helpless. "Yes, fire. We need fire." He said, his voice somewhat distant, as his senses were assaulted by the unnaturalness of their situation.
"Would fire attract the creatures I wonder?"
Antal being a little unnerved by being out in these strange wilds and not the familiar sights of a city.
"Hopefully it does. This nonsense is making me angry." Kalia starts looking around for something she can burn.
"What sorcery is this?!?!" Varis checks his surroundings looking for traces of some type of deceptive magic.
Varis is VERY sure this whole area is Eldritch AF!
He is reasonably sure it's NOT an illusion but maybe a pocket of magical influence, or even an overlapping of planes of existence.
"Antal, kindly throw your flasks of oil on those....things. The alternative is that we advance with those corpse-hives still buzzing around us."
"Antal, kindly throw your flasks of oil on those....things. The alternative is that we advance with those corpse-hives still buzzing around us."
Almost in response to Iocundius' the bees become far more agitated, grouping into a few rolling clouds that shift, move, disperse and then reforming, the buzzing taking on an uncanny threatening note...
"AAA, that might be a bad idea." looking over at the bees "How about this. Pardon me bees, could we pass please. I have some food and a candle you can use the wax to make more hives?" Antal gets a days worth of rations and a candle. He takes a few steps forward and places the items on the ground, then steps back.
Is it the candle? Is it the food? Is it the concept of tribute or mollifying words? Who knows? What is evident is that the bees seem to go back to their earlier flower focused state, and the overall feel (if such could be put into words) is that they are calmer.
"This is a bad idea." Kalia grumbles to herself, but starts making her way across the clearing, skirting the "beehives" as best she can.
You move on past the impaled hobgoblin figures, the moldering one being different from the other, which is more like the common variety dead and rotted.
Within a few minutes the fields now easier to traverse, with any trees only on its distant fringes. The feel of the landscape changes as well... while beautiful, it's almost too verdant, too flower filled... too perfect, and the area starts to feel alien.
A feeling that is validated by the rapid approach of half a dozen ants, that are the size of a sheepdog! They approach mandibles clicking and antennas waving.
It doesn't seem they are as friendly as those "bees".
-Party has initiative
"Leaving those intact at our rear seems dangerous in itself. But we march on then.", says Iocundius.
Once past the bees, his irritation diminishes. Then the ants emerge.
"Now, we have no choice. To arms!", he calls.
”This we can fight.” Gaelden said with relief. He was glad to have an enemy that could be punched to death.