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Cecic's more benign nature magic restores Zourn to fighting shape. The centaur isn't happy with this development, but takes his rage out on Martin in several powerful swings. "I control the storm! You will be washed away by my hand!" His voice echoes over the storm and far past the beach as he lands two hits on the ranger.
Another lightning bolt comes down to punctuate his call, this time at Clinker.
Round Five/Six:
Cecic -6
Martin -12
Zourn -7
Vengeant Thorn -32
Clinker -6
Marigold
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Vengeant Thorn looks ready to roar right back at the insult, but is preoccupied. Martin's first strike left him tottering, and while he desperately blocked two more blows, the last sent him toppling over. His last breath is an explosion of gale-force winds that quiets the storm! As he falls, so does the magic scale.
On his body is little of value. Two used-up scrolls, various components for unknown rituals, a journal, and a medallion. The latter item bears many swirling patterns that match some on the scale, now that you have a chance to look at it. The journal, in its few recent entries, raves about the 'Scale of the Spurned Tempest' and the writer's drive to acquire it.
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Martin wiped the sweat, rain, and blood from his face as he leaned on the downed centaur. "Whew! I was worried there for a minute. Between the wind and those vines, I just knew we were all going to end up as plant food. Zourn, you okay? You look a little beat up, friend. Help me get at this guy's effects and see if we can't figure out why he was here."
Rummaging through the centaur's things, the ranger found the journal, and after a few moments puzzlign out the cramped handwriting, pointed at the passage mentioning the Scale.
"Oh good, now we know what to call it. I say let's chain it back up in that box and hightail it for Absalom, and hope the Society has a deep, dark vault to throw it in. Preferably locking the door and throwing away the key while they are at it. Maybe even collapsing the tunnels leading to it?"
He took a few steps back towards the wagon, then stumbled, heavily favoring his right leg where the centaur had hit him.
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" Yeah! Doing fine now Martin. Thanks to 'ol Cecic. I had feared you would see me fall flat if another spark climbed down my armor, AHA!" Zourn says with a bow and heads over to pick up his other discarded shield. He frowns looking at the dents created by the staves.
[b]"Agreed. That thing was a pain in the arse! Gonna need to wrap it up tight.
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The scale offers no further resistance. You hear something akin to a scream or howl as it is replaced in the box, but that could have been just as easily produced by the wind.
The remainder of your journey back to Absalom only takes a bit more than the promised day. You are still subject to some environmental indignities, and aquatic creatures trail alongside the coastline your wagon rolls past. But both are more subdued than before, as if nature has admitted defeat.
Zarta Dralneen is waiting not far beyond the Grand Lodge's gates for you. She takes note of the shredded wagon top you likely haven't repaired fully, if at all. "Pathfinders. You all seem relatively whole and hale. What have you learned, and more importantly, brought back?"
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"Misery, bruises, and a damned enchanted scale that nearly blasted us all into the sea. This thing needs to get buried deep and never brought to the surface again. It's called the Scale of the Spurned Tempest, and it basically summoned a small hurricane down on our heads."
"That, combined with a bunch of crazed druids and a centaur looking to use its power to drive people from the forest and its bordering areas...yeah. Let's not ever let this thing get out of our hands again."
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Cecic hands back the scroll from Marigold, "I think I can handle this without the need for your scroll, I have some magic left and can deal with these wounds with this." he holds a pack containing healing items. "Gozreh, give your green and blue rejuvenation to those who protect your holy items." He holds his trident and lets the Gozreh's power fill his body, filling everyone with healing power. Cecic then heals whoever needs it, bandaging and providing poultices to heal their wounds.
He helps secure the scale and reads the journal, specifically looking for passages on Gozreh's aspects of the storm.
Cecic hands Zarta Dralneen the bill of items, "Here are all the items that we should have here. We have had some interesting challenges along the road, that all seem to have been instigated by a Vengeant Thorn, the centaur with an interest in the dragon's scale there, which maybe known as 'Scale of the Spurned Tempest'. Our experience leads us to believe that it should be stored securely, others may want to harness it's power. Martin has his journal written by Vengeant Thorn."
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Zarta listens intently. Once it becomes clear you've secured the relics, and that at least one is powerfully magical, she takes action. A Society wizard, some squat man in a golden mask, is summoned to bring your payload to a vault via ginger telekinesis.
"We'll study this scale, glean whatever secrets we can from its isolation, move it closer to Skyreach if we can be sure of safety," the former Paracountess says. "That should ensure none of the relics are used for ill, and only used by us if absolutely necessary.
"Why, it's a good thing these came to my attention first among our leadership! Can you image what might have happened if Eando Kline or one of his reckless followers had gotten their hands on this?" She levels a slightly condescending look at Clinker the goblin may not be able to see. "The scale probably would have been tossed into the sea or smashed to pieces. 'Vigilant,' indeed!"
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"Have you met dear Eando in person, or are you one of those who's stayed around for his lectures? Either way I'd be concerned if you hadn't noticed his problematic tendencies." Zarta's smirk intensifies at that, as if sensing someone ready to call her out for exactly the same thing. "His approach doesn't leave enough room for the best outcomes. Of course we're securing this priceless and powerful artifact. But if he got his way, we'd have a week to decipher all of its secrets, or poof! Into some pit on the Plane of Fire it goes."