Toki stage whispers to the others, Let us move, they are still out there. Move quickly and under as much cover as we can...
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Gauis looked around at Toki's urging. He couldn't see anything, but the ways of skullduggery were not his ways. However it was no great leap that the stealthy enemy that surrounded them would continue to be stealthy and surround them, so he largely accepted the statement, even though he couldn't verify it.
"I'm not sure that's a very good--" is all the de-hemleted artificer has to get out before the designs of the tree-swamp again contrive to make Toki's steps as loud as a sultry woman in high heels walking down a hallway with all-wood floors and good acoustics.
"I merely think an attack plan that does not heavily rely on each and every one of us being able walk with the grace of a dancer across these unfamiliar grounds might be more efficacious. Still, as I have no other plan to put forth I shall try."
Unfortunately the scholar walking in the woods in heavy armor goes about as well as a scholar walking in the woods in heavy armor.
Wisely, Toki and Gaius lead the way from the scene of the fight. Unfortunately, neither is able to do so without leaving a fairly clear trail and additional noise. With the worst of his wounds healed Toki still drips blood from several other punctures. While within the confines of his heavy armor, Gaius manages to break more limbs than a Zobeck gangster as he marches through the jungle undergrowth. Of course, all of this makes it much easier for their companions to follow along the cleared and marked trail.
Beordt slinks along.
"You all are louder than me."
Dacknar shakes his head as his noisy companions stomp around loud enough to wake the dead. Staying in the jungle Dacknar slides through the plants.
But his attention keeps getting drawn to the others and he stumbles over a root.
"Blast this land lubber mess! That why there aren't any trees on ships.
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"Oh confound, Toki, I didn't know you were hurt so dreadfully. Here, let me see to that." The Artificer draws close and channels a warm, yellow light into the bard's wounds. "I regret that I never did get the focus tight enough for the combat-applicable version of this, but with a chance at leisure I can prove a fair enough hand."
"Do you think we can get out the way all of you came in?"
Moving through an ancient overgrown jungle is hard. Doing so quietly and without leaving a clear path is apparently impossible. Even with the pounding of the drums adding some cover, there is little hope of someone not being able to track your trail. Finally, Telos gives up on subterfuge as even the usually sneaky Dacknar stumbles and crashes over several roots to generate a cacophony of sound that would make a pack of Nurian Screeching Monkeys proud. So instead of circling in a sneaky arc for the area where the great reptilian beasts are held, he sets a more direct path in hopes of outrunning whatever pursuit might be coming.
The idea seems to work. Soon enough you can hear, and smell, the beasts. Their deep, guttural calls echoing through the night over the pounding of the drums. Moving quickly you come to the edge of a clearing in the thick jungle. A half dozen reptilian beasts rest in a big, stone walled pen. Each dinosaur is easily the size of a large cargo wagon. Broad backed and covered in thick, spiked hides with long thick tails. The beasts barely notice your presence as they passively crop at the leaves and grasses tossed in the pens by their handlers.
You are about to break cover when Gaius hisses a warning. A flash of white in the canopy along your trail catches the artificer's eye in enough time to prevent the attack from being a total surprise. Three more of the trollkin have caught up and are out for blood.
The first arrow comes streaking out of the jungle and slams into Gaius punching through armor, clothing and skin. But the artificer's warning does it's work as Beordt moves just in time to duck away from another feathered shaft that hits the ground just where he was standing. A third arrow, makeing a poor wobbling flight lands harmlessly ten feet away from Rilkus.
The attacks reveal the creatures to you. They are each thirty feet back in the jungle and running along the limbs twenty to thirty feet above.
Beordt moves toward a trunk to take some cover and takes a shot with his short bow.
Rilkus strode over to Gaius, intoning prayers that caused the man’s wounds to close. With the enemies utilizing cowardly tactics, there was little else he could do.
Dacknar takes aim and lets an arrow loose.
Then he tries to find a place to duck out of site.
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Long had Gauis spent in the FalconGuard tower, poring over design schematics drawn by masters long dead, searching for the most minute detail that would allow him to draw an iota of more power from the mana-capaciters that give motivation to his arcane creations. Such diligence had made him more Observant, and he found that such attention to detail had translated well to situations outside of mere scroll-searching. That this can help the group now avoid certain death was but gravy on the goose, as they say.
"Gratitude, Rilkus," Gauis says, looking up disdainfully as another volley of arrows rains down at them. "Aye, surely we are thinning their ranks, would you not think? I wonder if it is bravery or something baser, or perhaps more sinister, that drives them to spend their own worthless lives in a vain attempt to harass us?" That he hadn't bothered to reclaim his helmet yet is itself a statement of how he disdains their attackers.
"But surely this emphasizes that they have no value over their own lives? Surely any civilized people would have fled from us, realizes the impotence of such stands?
Ah well who can understand the minds of such lesser creatures?
Anyway, Rilkus, you might want to keep an eye on good Dacknar there--wait, where did he go? Anyway, he looked none too hale and hearty, and might could use a touch of thy grace."
Gauis punctuates his words by picking out the same target Beordt is shooting at and unleashing a tongue of flame at it.
This is followed by putting up his own Defensive field and preparing for incoming fire.
Rilkus almost responded, but stopped himself. Now was not the time or place, and his own doubts would only serve to hurt morale. The stubborn delaying tactics reminded him of how a dwarf might fight and die to hold a seemingly unimportant tunnel, for the good of the larger hold. Were these mere beasts, or was there something larger at play here? Regardless, it was a fight for survival. Without a word the gearforged began to search for Dacknar, so that he might be of use.
Many thanks, friend Gaius, Toki says quietly, It seems that it will be needed.
Toki puts his hand on Rilkus' shoulder again, The gods watch us, Rilkus!
Beordt! Send them an arrow for me!
Beordt and Gaius send fire and feathered steel to assault the closest attacker. The attack sends the creature ducking back into the canopy. Dacknar tries to snap off a quick shot at the retreating foe, but it manages to duck aside as it slips into cover. Lingering smoke and dripping blood provide everyone enough information that the creature doesn't escape the party's notice.
Unable to locate the suddenly vanished Dacknar, Rilkus moves closer to one of the nearer and larger trees. Judging the ancient sentinel of the jungle sturdy enough he looks for the closest hand and footholds.
Two arrows fly out and slam into the gearforged paladin, just missing Toki as the skald quickly grants the blessings of Thor upon Rilkus. Although they strike dangerously true, they cause relatively minor and mostly cosmetic damage to Rilkus' metal frame.
The final enemy turns to fire at Dacknar, but looses sight of the elf in the thick jungle. Unable to find its intended target, it moves back toward the others in the party.
Trollkin 1: 10/20
Trollkin 2: 20/20
Trollkin 3: 20/20
Was that supposed to hit me? Toki taunts as he moves to cover behind a tree. psychic damage, disadvantage on next attack on a fail.
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"Our target is proving a craven, Beordt. He's over there, 60 feet away. Ignore him for now," Gauis declares, his scroll-hardened eyes taking in the movement that denotes retreat. "I suppose we can't really fault him, he's only proving to be true to his race. In the same vein that, if you lay down a fine roast of mutton unattended, you can't trust a dog. But you can trust a dog to be a dog. So too, you can only trust trollkin to be trollkin.
Let us shift away from the good Rilkus' target, and give him The Right."
Gauis turns to fire at the one that has not run, and is not in the tree Rilkus is now climbing.
Feeling the need to expound, Gauis expounds, "Of course when I say 'The Right' I mean 'The Right of Retribution'. This is sacred, dating back into legend. The Scrolls of Skelios say that when the Stone Men of the Emerald Rune, under Battle-Captain Rusku, were beset by the IronFist, who were in the pay of merchants from the Bloody Spider, and led by Alydif Underworld, the 'Fist struck first in the Hardwheat Woods. They battled for four days until a unit of heavy infantry of Grey Reapers, who were allied to the Rune, came and forced the IronFist unto the defensive.
On the next day, the leader of the Reapers, one Danar Nightwrath, bade Rusku to join in an attack together. But so incensed were the Stone Men at the audacity of the Bloody Spider forces that they insisted on taking the field alone, which, they said, was their right so they could enact retribution.
The Stone Men wiped out the IronFist to a man, which lead to Rusku's ascendancy.
Or so they say. Still, it's considered a high honor to strike back to those who hath wronged you."
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As the hunted becomes the hunter. Dacknar creeps forward to get closer to the trollkin. Then springs out, an arrow launches into the air at it's intended target.
"Two can play the hit and run game."
Before the arrows hits it's mark. Dacknar ties to slip back into the jungle once more.
And it's like he drank a potion of invisibility, that not even the jungle knows where Dacknar has gone too.
Toki and Gaius harass one of the trollkin in the trees with fire and insults. Although they cause little actual harm to the creature, they distract it well enough that it doesn't see Dacknar slip from cover and fire. The arrow slams into the trollkin's pelvis with vicious force. The creature lurches sideways, stumbles, and slips over the edge of the big branch.
He lands hard and with a distinctive *crack* that leaves his neck at a severe and unnatural angle that is completely unable to sustain the creatures life.
If Rilkus could have sighed, he would have. Instead there was just the whirring of gears as he went over to the tree and began the process of climbing up...
"A climber eh."
Beordt shakes his head with a sound like a whorling chuckle. He takes aim at one of the Trollkin in the tree.
With surprising speed and grace, Rilkus climbs the tree whose branches hold the remaining threat. Beordt draws the creatures attention by hitting it with an arrow. The trollkin replies with two shots of its own. One hits the bearkin in the leg, the other passes overhead as Beordt ducks for cover, cursing as he plucks another arrow from his body.
Trollkin 1: 10/20
Trollkin 2: 0/20
Trollkin 3: 14/20
Beordt runs to near the spot where the trollkin is above him in the tree. "Toki, take the high road." The bear spreads his legs and drops his hands interlocking his fingers. Ready to boost the man up to the tree far above. The bearkin sees Gaius nearby and looks from Toki to his hands to the trollkin in the tree. His nod offering to let the man join him for the boost.
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Toki sprints toward his ursine friend stepping on the basket of his interlaced fingers and leaps up at the branch!
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Toki leaps through the air, and just as you think he is about to make it, his fingertips brush the tree limb and he crashes to the ground, face first!
There is a moment before the trollkin laughs when you swear you hear, Loki's frozen stones!
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"Shoulda told him a girl was watching."
Rilkus reached the trollkin and regarded the creature with a blank expression. Not that he had any choice in the matter, given his lack of facial features. The gearforged regarded his options as he pulled out his hammer. The enemy was above him, perched on a branch...and he noticed that the trollkin's legs were spread apart. He remembered how much this would hurt from when he had a physical body. The gearforged reached back and swung his hammer hard...right into the trollkin's family jewels. He didn't know if it would be a fatal blow, but he hoped so, as even he felt sympathy for the wound that he had just caused.
Dacknar stands still with a shocked look on his face watching the antics of Toki and Rikus.
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The initial maneuver is executed with solid competence and precision. Beordt and Gaius link hands and heave just as Toki's boot hits their linked palms. The bard's aim is spot on. His trajectory right on target to make a grab for the limb and easily swing himself upward into the trollkin whose curious gaze was now locked on the flying northerner.
No, the disaster actually occurred three years earlier. It was a fine summer evening in Vidim. A warm breeze flowing off eastern steppes and Popovich's spiced vodka was flowing freely at the The Randy Rusalka that evening. Natalya was looking as ravishing as ever. Her voice a sultry, sensuous delight that had every heart in the tavern pounding with desire as she sang and danced in those elegant, elaborate costumes usually left so very little to the imagination.
It was another packed to bursting house that night. Smoke filled the room like a Zobeck fog as everyone joined the boisterous chorus of The Dance of the Huginn. Caught up in the moment and more than a few of Popovich's famous tall ones warming his blood, Toki hops up on the table and joins a handful of others dancing to the wild tune. His legs kick out and he hops and squats and spins. Cheers erupt and big laughing Beordt pounds the table with his meaty fist. More cheers erupt when Natalya herself waves at Toki and blows the young bard a kiss from the stage.
What happens next is something that is still debated to this very day. Beordt claims he was shoved by a burly miner with a twinned serpent tattoo on his cheek trying to slide through the crowd. Toki claims the bearkin knocked the table on purpose in order to keep him from winning their bet about who could get an invitation from Natalya first. What isn't debated is that the table slid just as Toki tried to execute double leg kick and spin. The sliding of the table throws everything off. (The copious amount of vodka percolating in his system also did not help.) Toki goes flying and crashes across a table of a half dozen Khazzaki traders. A pitcher of vodka launches itself into the air from the opposite end of the collapsing table like it was shot from a catapult. Chaos erupts. The traders cascade away from the flailing bard in a flurry of curses, insults, and swinging fists. A brawl breaks out. Bodies go flying.
In the far corner of the tavern, hidden in shadows sits an elegant, well dressed traveler in typical northern garb. Not a youth, but a man of age. A patch covers one eye and a pair of ravens perch on the posts of his chair watching the crowd. As the cascade of catastrophe tumbles through the entire tavern, the northern stranger scowls in consternation. He'd been enjoying the performance and the dancer was a true beauty. It is truly unfortunate that the pitcher of vodka came flying in from the man's left side. Had it not been from that direction, perhaps he'd have seen it coming and much could have been avoided. Alas, the patched eye was of no help and the pitcher slams into the man shattering upon impact and soaking him and his raven companions in vodka. Taking immediate offense to such an assault, the old man places a curse upon the young fool whose antics appeared to have initiated the entire incident. A curse to steal his luck and his dignity. A curse that shall last until...whenever he decided to remove it. He then disappears with a flourish of his cloak and a flurry of raven feathers.
And so it is as Toki flies through the air ready to grab the tree, he finds the limb suddenly slick with some kind of natural oil secreted by the god cursed tree. His hand slips off the surface unable to maintain any kind of grip. All the hapless bard can do is swear as he plummets back down toward the ground.
Yet, despite the painful failure of Toki's attempted assault upon the enemy. It is the perfect distraction for Rilkus, who, it should be noted, has never danced upon a pub table. The iron man's strike shatters the unsuspecting trollkin's pelvis. A high pitched scream burst's from its lungs even as its eyes roll into the back of its head and it tumbles from the tree. Although the trollkin's fall is broken by Toki's softer body, the foe is already quite dead by the time he lands.
Moments later Telos emerges from the jungle after chasing after the fleeing trollkin. Wiping blood from a small throwing axe, he nods that the other creature is dead as well.
Beordt looks shocked for a moment. But when the trollkin drops dead from the tree anyway. He let's out a whorring woop of a belly laugh.
The gods hate me, Toki says, shaking his head and holding his bloody nose. But I will catch their notice. Wait and see.
"With as many scored lovers, bitter matrons and embarrassed rival suitors lay in your wake . . . the gods might have to get in line to curse you." Beordt holds up his hand with his middle and index finger of his paw split but bent at the knuckle. "Come here let's straighten that thing out." The bearkin steps forward to if memory is correct very painfully reset Toki's nose.
With a grunt of pain, Toki nods, Thanks, Beordt. Let's move...
Beordt (gently?) grabs Toki's nose like an uncle about to steal a nephew's nose. With a pinch and a sudden tug down a moist crunch can be heard. Beordt makes a face "Ahh your all good." He turns away silently motioning for the others not to draw attention to it.
Beordt nods at the idea of quietly moving on.
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"Bwa-hah! Ah well all's well that ends well what?" Gauis declares chortling.
As Beordt attends to Toki's nose in a quick yet painful manner, Gauis again does his due diligence in examining the two trollkin corpses. He doesn't expect anything to come of it but he'd feel the fool if he left useable material behind for want of the most cursory searches.
Once that is done he offers, "Toki, instead of me continuing to fail at stealth, what say I play the stalking horse? I will draw their fire while all who can pass unnoticed make better attacks unawares.
It seems impossible for us to try to avoid conflict, so we must needs turn the tide to advantage as we can."
That said Gaius marches onward.
Toki looks to Dacknar and back at Gaius, nodding assent.
Gaius searches the two bodies while Beordt sees to Toki's bent nose and Rilkus scrambles back down from he perch. The artificer's effort is rewarded with a pair of seax length obsidian blades and a dozen usable arrows in total. One of the bows broke in the final creature's fall from the tree, but the other shortbow still appears whole enough. Beyond those few weapons and some shabby leathers, there is little of use or value. Each do carry a pouch of foul smelling, spicy dried meat strips and a small leather flask of some kind of reeking, thick, fermented liquid.
Once all are ready, you set out again. It doesn't take more than a few dozen paces to back track your initial trail and reach the site of the pens and their still mostly docile beasts. The half dozen big dinosaurs busy themselves cropping at the grass, shrubs, or any leafy foliage that is within the reach of their long necks. A few catch the scent of the blood still clinging to clothing and unwashed faces, but this only elicits a curious gaze and low soft crooning to rumble from one or two reptilian throats.
Toki scans the area for prisoner pits, We can possibly create a stampede to provide distraction... Where to they keep the prisoners?
The young skald reaches out to the herbivores in the pen...
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Telos thinks for a few moments and then smiles a feral grin as he nods agreement with Gauis and Toki. "Aye, it'd be good to hand these beast a bit of their own." He says running a thumb along the edge of his axe blade.
"Navigator's blessing, our luck might have changed a bit as well. I spotted a large band leaving the ruins early today. They were headed to the southeast although I'm not sure why. Nothing but jungle and swamp in that direction." A quick, puzzled shrug to that last. "Regardless of their reasons, there are fewer of them left in the city. Might be a chance to slip past their sentries and find Nantel or figure out what they are up to."
He starts to scratch out a very rough map in the dirt pointing out key locations as he goes. "This is where their main camp is set up best as I can tell. Here at the base of some broken ziggurat that was once dedicated to some amphibious god or horrible creature judging by the remnants of sculpture and other carvings in the stones. This is where the drums are based and their priests conduct their blood ceremonies." He scratches out some more markings. "Not far is another set of fairly intact structures. A palace or some other large bit of infrastructure. This is where I saw them herding a few prisoners or slaves they'd brought with them. And finally over here, north of the temple, they've cleared a swath of land and are using it to picket the big lizards they use as pack animals or cavalry"
He leans back with a sigh. "My guess is, if they have Nantel, that he's somewhere in the slave pens. Unfortunately, they're all underground and from what I remember of that area, it's a rat's maze of crumbling, narrow tunnels and dead ends."
He looks around the smoldering fire to see if there are any questions or suggested places to start before he begins gathering a few things to prepare for the long night ahead.
"Excellent!" Gauis exclaims, examining the setting. "I recall our plan was to start a fire here to panic the otherwise docile animals, and then use that cover to head south to where they were seen herding prisoners to try and find the entrance to the underground labyrinth they use as a prisoners warren."
As Toki examines the animals, he selects an appropriately thick tree and begins gathering dry wood about it in great heaps. He has confidence his art can get the fire started, and wants to make sure the fire is large enough to deter efforts to put it out quickly.