Your journey has lead you to Caliphas, the cosmopolitan capital city of the fog-shrouded nation of Ustalav. Having been summoned by Venture-Captain Evni Zongnoss, you make your way to the Vodavani Lodge, the headquarters of Pathfinder operations in Caliphas. The lodge, sometimes also known as Havenguard Asylum, doubles as an institution for treating mental health.
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Xun woke up covered in sweat, as soon as he reached Caliphas he was seeing the same visions. An empty land filled with hordes of the undead, at first his spirit moved among them but later on the undead begun to notice him. Xun sat on the bad and set the light to a candle, he takes a mouthful of water and begins inspecting his bed. He hanged there a number of charms and magic symbols to protect him during the sleep, but he must have screwed it up.
His dark skin has a small green tint in it, and his ears are a bit longer than those of humans. His yellow eyes shine in the darkness he begins to hum a melody as he replaces the charms to get some sleep before he shows up at the lodge in the morning.
"Don't be afraid of the dead little one, I will take care of your soul..." he hears horrible laughter in his head. Xun knows perfectly well the being speaking to him. He fought the devil and bound him back to his throne. All in all, it was no different than loas that he interacted in his own land.
Immortal and petty spirits interested in suffering and power.
Xun shakes his head and falls on the bed....
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The next morning Xun shows up under Havenguard Asylum, he took all of his belongings. His Mwanghi roots make him stand out on the streets but he tries to ignore all the looks.
Soon he will know why they send him here...
Greetings Pathfinder,
I hope this letter finds you well. The Pathfinder Society has found itself in dire need of agents in the Gravelands region, so I am requesting your help for a mission. My home lodge in Vigil is, shall we say, inaccessible at the present time, so please meet me in Caliphas at my temporary headquarters in the Vodavani Lodge and present this letter to me upon arival.
Destination: Goldenflame.Thank you for your assistance,
Venture-Captain Evni Zongnoss
The foggy streets of Caliphas are bustling with activity due to an influx of refugees from the former nation of Lastwall, now known as the Gravelands.
As you enter the Vodavani Lodge, you are met with a cacophony rising from dozens of fellow Pathfinders discussing missions, sharing documents, and gathering supplies for their various quests. A familiar chaos, no doubt.
You quickly spot Venture-Captain Zongnoss at the center of this bustle. Evni Zongnoss is a female gnome, most recognizable by her oversized turban, clad in matching blue robes, both decorated by golden crescent moon symbols. You catch her at a busy moment, as she's delegating tasks to various Pathfinders.
Once you've settled down in the lodge, Evni Zongnoss cordially thanks you for coming, and gestures you to gather around a nearby table.
"If you could please wait, I will address you shortly. Apologies for the delay," the small Venture-Captain says.
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A humanoid that might be identified as a monk, due to his loose clothing and handwraps, takes a seat at the table with the other Pathfinders. His identity and emotions are a mystery, initially, as he wears a wooden mask over his face that resembles the features of a shark. "Greetings everyone. I am the one they call the Shark of Abendego. I come from the swamp lands of Mwangi where I practice the ancient tradition of Magic Warriors. As part of my training, I have given up my name and my identity, so if you need my attention you can just refer to me as The Monk or The Shark. I am forbidden to show my face or reveal my name, so any attempts to gain such information will be an act of hostility. I hope we can work together and prosper under the guiding winds of Gozreh." The dark skinned male places his hands together and gives a small nod to each member of the team, paying his respects.
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A massively-tall human ducks through the door to lumber uncomfortably into the lodge. He’s got the long, powerful-looking limbs and sloped shoulders of a swimmer, but he moves with an uncomfortable, cautious gait. His snow-white skin and equally pale hair mark him as Ulfen. He wears a northern outdoorsman’s garb: a functional mix of heavy cloth, furs, and hides to protect him from animal and element. And his simple weapons — a longspear, club, and long-bladed dagger — are those of a fisherman … right down to the net folded carefully at his waist.
He pauses clumsily just inside the door, momentarily unaware that his bulk blocks it completely, and his dark eyes — set closely in his narrow face — scans the room.
He carries a harried look at all the surrounding chaos. A fish out of water. And when he’s ushered to the table, he sets down his pack and lowers himself slowly into a seat.
The chair groans alarmingly under his weight, but holds.
”Hello … um … the Shark,” he rumbles quietly. ”I’m Kló.” When it seems the others want more of an introduction, he clears his throat, the slow-witted man frantically searching for something else to provide them. ”I’m new at the Society.” He holds up one finger, ”First assignment.”
Exhausted from this great expenditure of words, he lapses once more into uncomfortable silence, his dark eyes giving the loud room furtive glances.
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The young looking Half-Elf walks at a rather rushed pace through the fog filled streets of the gloomy city of Caliphas, she isn't specially fond of Ustalav but as soon as she was told that there's a need of Pathfinders in the Gravelands she immediately volunteered, she can just imagine the pain and suffering of those who are still trapped there and is her self imposed duty to give succor to them before is too late... Her Goddess Sarenrae would never abandon anyone and neither will Sieglinde.
She soon meet with her fellow agents and once there proceed to introduce herself before doing anything else.
"Greetings friends, I'm Sieglinde from the Radiant Oath, some call me 'The Merciful' but it's not a big deal just a nickname... it's an honor to work alongside you." Introduced herself Sieglinde trying to not sound too pompous but formal enough, as she comes closer to her allies a the faint scent of blood and steel can be perceived as if she had just returned from the carnage of the battlefield yet her clothes and armor are clean and in good condition, this is an effect of her curse, an impossible to hide tell of her condition as an oracle.
"It's a pleasure Kló, The Shark... I can respect that, I'm also bound by my convictions to a certain extend." Added the Oracle.
Soon enough the blue-robed Venture-Captain has finished her other pressing matters, and has time to address your mission. He joins you at the table. The mission briefing is about to begin.
A parchment map, depicting the region, has been laid on the table, with one miniature flag sticking on it. The map still labels the region of the Gravelands as "Lastwall". "Apologies for the out-of-date cartography, but it's the best we can do at this time," Zongnoss says with a half-smile, perhaps to lighten the dire mood of what's about to follow.
"As you know, the re-emergence of Tar-Baphon dealt a devastating blow to the Society, so we've been scrambling to consolidate resources. The Society is focusing on missions into the Gravelands for two reasons: to track down the whereabouts of Pathfinder agents who went missing when the undead hordes struck, and to recover the fragments of history and culture that yet survive."
She points to the tiny flag sticking in the southeast portion of Lastwall on the map. "Our attention is now turning to the town of Goldenflame, which is not that far from here. Many of our missing-in-action agents have a high probability of being found in its vicinity. Goldenflame was an idyllic place surrounding a college sponsored and supported by the church of Iomedae. Fortunately, most of the town was able to evacuate swiftly, but we know that some residents stayed behind out of a sense of civic duty to defend their home against evil."
"Goldenflame College is known for its documentation of the history of both southeastern Lastwall and the activities of the church of Iomedae in the region, as well as its collection of invaluable local curiosities accrued over time. Those relics tell the story of Lastwall — if they can be recovered, then Lastwall can live on."
The Venture-Captain makes a hand signal to some secretarial agent, who then quickly brings a bundle of paperwork to the table.
"These dossiers contain information on all known Pathfinder agents in the region surrounding Goldenflame. Although we must hold out hope, I cannot truthfully say I am optimistic. Nevertheless, closure is important, and we can properly mourn for their loss and celebrate their lives if we know their fates. Perhaps these documents could be of some use to you in this quest."
Among the paperwork, Evni also explains, are signed travel documentation stating your reasons for being in the Gravelands, to be presented to at border. She also gives detailed instructions on the roads to Goldenflame.
Evni then leaves the table to walk over to a massive backpack, from which she pulls out a bundle of sacks. "Here. These are for you to transport any items... or..." she somberly bows her head, "...remains you might find. I know it is a sad and gruesome task, but retrieving those fallen Pathfinders would bring closure to their loved ones. You could think of this mission as a service to them."
All of a sudden, it gets much quieter in the Lodge building.
"To summarize, your mission is twofold: search for any signs of the 10 missing agents, whose details you can examine in the paperwork, and stay on the lookout for any relics from the town of Goldenflame or its college. I can now answer any questions, if you have any."
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A goblin stumbles into the lodge, with a (goblin) palm-sized die in his little left fist.
He quickly locates the VC and barks an impatient question at her. Arfsnarf here, what I slaying this time?
When she shuffles him (and seemingly a few others) to a nearby table he frowns and sighs before joining them. Just then the monk is introducing himself and Arfsnarf becomes curious.
Um, so... it all "sharky" under that mask then? From ocean accident? If that happen to Arfsnarf he also would come up with magic warrior story! Good thinking!
Not even noticing whatever frustrated, potentially derisive response comes out of this the energetic goblin turns to the rest of the group.
Arfsnarf is soon-to-be legendary sorcerer and fortune teller! The clacky rock never lies! Whatever it say always happens, and missions go good or bad. Let's see!
He drops it out of his fist onto the table between them.
He squints at the result and frowns. Thinking quickly, he conjures an explanation. Veeeeeery auspicious. A nice indivisible number! It stands alone. It's success is unique, as will ours be in whatever they ask us to slay today!
He looks around the table, beaming and proud.
Don't you worry Kló! Everybody nervous on first assignment. Rest of us reduce your likelihood of dying with our great experience! Good thing the clacky rock didn't give us bad news!
Just then Arfsnarf glances over at Sieglinde, noting the blood visible on her person.
Wow, you already take mission today? Be careful about overachieving! Even Pathfinders need rest!
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Arfsnarf listens as the briefing finally begins, a little disappointed there is nothing evident to slay.
So, these agents working together when they went missing? Or all separate?
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Klo nods to Sieglinde, but is saved the pain of further conversation by the VC.
He listens intently, a look of difficult focus on his long features as he scratches at a nasty scar on his cheek and neck. ”Find agents. Look for relics” He nods once, committing the job to memory. When the VC passes out the dossiers, he frowns before picking the first one up.
You see him quietly sounding out every single word with painful slowness, but he steadily works through every entry.
… only to be interrupted by the arrival of the boisterous goblin. Klo gives a small half-smile at the creature’s unending verbal onslaught. ”Good to be protected by one with such experience. I feel better already.”
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What appeared to be a small shrubbery suddenly stands up and opens its eyes, which are a little too large and round for its narrow head. The creature only stands about 3 feet in height, with leaf covered branches sprouting from his head that increase his height by another six inches or so. He is wearing a simple green robe, which he tugs at uncomfortably as he moves towards the group, extending a branchy arm in greetings.
"I....am...Roots...Drink...Rain," the creature says slowly, as if struggling with each syllable. "I want to help." The creature blinks slowly several times as he opens his mouth to speak, then shuts it quickly and just stares expectantly at the group with his wide, wet eyes.
"A pity that your first mission is this grim," Evni tells Kló. "While this may not be an uplifting adventure you might have been hoping for, it is an important mission all the same."
"So, these agents working together when they went missing? Or all separate?"
Evni frowns, mulling the question over. "Possibly, but it's impossible to tell. Much of our own internal records of mission activity were, of course, destroyed. Along with the rest of my former home lodge, Vigil. Quite frankly it's a small miracle we were able to collect the information on these ten."
"But do keep in mind that these agents did not exactly 'go' missing," she adds for clarity. "The underlying reason we haven't been able to contact these agents is clear: the Whispering Tyrant broke free from his prison and brought ruin to Lastwall. So, in a way, whatever they were doing before Lastwall's fall has little importance now."
The gnome Venture-Captain turns to the rest of the party. "Have you any other questions?"
"If not, please excuse me," she waddles to the sizable backpack, shoulders it, and adds, "I’m also heading into the Gravelands myself. May Desna guide us all on our journeys. Hopefully we can find what we seek."
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Xun follows the others to the briefing. He listens to the ones introducing themselves observing them with his yellow eyes.
"My name is Xun Saburo and I am a storyteller, I come from the deep jungles of Mwangi." On that he nods his head to The Shark.
He shakes his hand or nods with everyone.
As he shakes Sieglinde hand his hand twitch as he was electrocuted.
He looks at her for a moment wondering how is she handling her constant exposure to spirits.
As Kló says that this is his first mission Xun is worried. This does not sound easy and Pathfinder Society must be desperate to send their fresh recruits. But maybe there is more to Kló than meets the eye.
The half-orc smiles at the clacky rock and the fortune-telling done by Arfsnarf.
Before Venture-Captain leaves Xun asks:
"Will we get a cart? If we need to transport 10 bodies, which I hope we will not, there is no chance that we can carry them on our backs." Xun looks at Arfsnarf and Roots Drink Rain wondering if they could carry one human body between them.
"Are there any information what kind monsters are around Goldenflame? Are those undeads? Or some other monsters?"
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Kló goes back to painfully trying to read through the dossiers. And when the VC mentions leaving, he looks startled. He holds up the papers. ”Can we keep these?” he mutters.
"A pity that your first mission is this grim," Evni tells Kló. "While this may not be an uplifting adventure you might have been hoping for, it is an important mission all the same."
Kló shrugs, ”I know hard times.” He squares his massive shoulders, ”I will do my part.”
He notices the small plant creature and smiles. With surprisingly gentleness, the big man places a hand (which seems completely massive on Roots Drink Rain’s small frame) on what he hopes is the leshy’s shoulder, ”We WILL help.”
"Will we get a cart? If we need to transport 10 bodies, which I hope we will not, there is no chance that we can carry them on our backs." Xun looks at Arfsnarf and Roots Drink Rain wondering if they could carry one human body between them.
”I’m used to carrying things,” the big man rumbles with a shrug, ”if there is no cart.”
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Sky leaned back in his chair and nodded along with everyone else's questions, occasionally lifting up his waterskin and sticking it under the bottom of his wooden mask to drink some water while he waited for everyone to finish. He had no follow up questions himself and was merely waiting for the next direction that Gozreh intended to guide him.
"Will we get a cart? If we need to transport 10 bodies, which I hope we will not, there is no chance that we can carry them on our backs."
Evni shakes her head. "Unfortunately, the Society is stretched thin at this point in time, and we are unable to provide carts nor mounts for this journey. However, think back to the reason for this retrieval mission: it is to get closure. Should you find a dead body of a Pathfinder, the remains need not be returned home, er," she hesitates, "whole."
"Are there any information what kind monsters are around Goldenflame? Are those undeads? Or some other monsters?"
"The Gravelands as a whole is now a very dangerous place. Tar-Baphon's undead legions are constantly patrolling, and are mighty indeed. I recommend avoiding fights with those troops," the Venture-Captain instructs, and adjusts her turban.
"As for Goldenflame specifically, I can only make assumptions. Perhaps a small town and a college are beneath the lich lord's notice. Let's hope so."
Kló holds up the papers. "Can we keep these?" he mutters.
"Of course."
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As you leave the Lodge, Evni gives you one last piece of advice: that time is a crucial factor. Not only is each hour valuable for any struggling survivors in the Gravelands, but the awoken lich tyrant's forces are never so distant that they could be wholly ignored.
With that, she wishes you luck one more time, and embarks on her own journey.
You depart Caliphas early in the day, passing through a heavily fortified Ustalavic border crossing staffed by Knights of Lastwall, one of whom examines your travel documentation. Everything is in order, and you are soon on your way past the border and into the desolate Gravelands.
The day is clear and bright, and the Gravelands are eerily quiet, its hills devoid of activity.
Goldenflame, as the map given by Evni confirms, is a few hours' travel southwest of Caliphas by foot. Assuming all goes well, that is...
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You're approximately half an hour into the journey, and so far there have been little to no sightings of undead in the area — some single, wandering figures, perhaps walking corpses, long distances away. Ominous, certainly, but nothing that demands immediate attention.
You check your map. Evni's directions are indeed the fastest way to Goldenflame, but the way there looks to be much a bit more difficult than the traditional road would be.
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A large, steep hill blocks the most direct path through the area. Since the diverting road around it takes such a long detour, you are fairly certain that the fastest way through would be to go over the hill.
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"look for our comrades and relics I got it... If I remember correctly there was a ceremonial set of armor hidden somewhere in a warehouse in Goldenflame, I heard it from... Someone a long time ago, by the way besides the ever present undead that haunts the former Lastwall should we expect to others hostile encounters?" Asked Sieglinde as she search through her memories trying to find any other useful tidbit of information to no avail.
"And... Sorry if I smell a little, it's a curse of sorts, I was blessed with divine magic but the battlefield always follows me, so is just befitting of me to brave the Gravelands..." Commented The Oracle with melancholy in her eyes, apparently for her, going to the Gravelands somehow holds a personal stake.
After Evni's departure Siglinde starts to read the papers given to them.
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Kló slips the dossiers into his backpack and is more or less ready to travel immediately. He tries to be helpful but unobtrusive with any last-minute preparations the group has, and remains uncomfortably quiet the whole time.
As soon as they leave town, a slow change transforms Kló. Every step away from towns seems to enliven him … it’s more than just that the big Ulfen’s sense of discomfort fades, it’s like an animal returning to its native environment. He still doesn’t talk much, but he strides along with ease.
A low, menacing growl rises from Kló’s throat every time they see what seems to be something unnatural on the horizon, but he stays on point, always ranging just a touch ahead to make sure there are no dangers to the group.
At the hill, the big man pauses, hitches his pack and shrugs. ”I will look.”
Kló moves with the determined agility of an animal up and around the hill. He finds an efficient path up the hill: one that the others might follow.
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Sky nods to Klo when they mention the need to carry the corpses, "Shouldn't be a problem, we have a few strong pathfinders in this group." Sky is pretty built himself and should have no issue helping carry the remains back.
As they travel, Sky doesn't want to hinder the speed at which they move so he will maintain a regular Exploration mode, following the group and preparing for the trials ahead. As they reach the hill, he waits to see if there is anyone with proper knowledge on how to traverse this terrain, then begins marching, eager to get to their destination on time.
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As they leave the town Xun takes out his flute and plays a cheerful song to keep the morale up. He keeps doing it for the first 30 minutes, but when the landscape looks direr he hides the flute.
He catches up with Sieglinde and gives her a pouch.
"Hold this with you, if anyone will try to cast a spell or a dark loa will attempt to influence you it may help."
As they encounter the hill Xun takes a breather as Klo is looking for a way. As he finds one bard attempts to keep up.
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"Thanks Xun! I'll treasure it, I'm sure that if we keep working together and supporting each other like this our mission will be a glorious success." Said the Oracle as she expresses her gratitude, she can feel Xun's good intentions and wishes emanating from the talisman and protecting her from the dangers that lurks the Gravelands.
They are infused with negative energy; they are healed by negative energy and harmed by positive energy.
Due to their condition, fighting an undead is different than fighting a living thing: they can be hard to put down.
They are infused with negative energy; they are healed by negative energy and harmed by positive energy. Because of this, they are always Evil, with virtually no exceptions.
You recognize the most common types of undead: skeletons and zombies.
Due to their condition, fighting an undead is different than fighting a living thing: they can be hard to put down. For instance, one has a hard time stabbing a skeleton or a zombie: bludgeoning and slashing work better, respectively.
Following the hill path is not easy, even with Kló's guidance. Sky Shark, perhaps by underestimating the hill's steepness or in his eagerness, trips a little, losing valuable time. Sieglinde likewise makes slow progress.
Xun, on the other hand, powers up and over the hill.
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As they walk along, the goblin spouts some tidbits about undead.
"Undead, because they were supposed to dead! But instead they still walk around while not alive! Crazy right? Who here has positive energy?That stuff hurt them."
Once they arrive at the hill, Arfsnarf asks "So, who am I ridding up this hill on? I mean, c'mon, I'm small! I can be your backpack while you run!"
After waiting several moments with no response, he finally trudges up the hill on Kló's direction.
Smiling, the goblin exclaims "We have a good guide!"
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Roots answers Arfsnarf, "Leshy dies without water, just like animal creatures. But I use my feet to drink!" Roots effortlessly lifts his leg until his foot is well above his head, demonstrating to the goblin what his foot looks like. "But we don't need to drink food! We drink the light!"
Roots Drinks Rain is excited to join the party and follows along, managing to easily keep pace with his taller comrades despite his small size. He doesn't speak much but at one point says, "When I was listening I heard one of the animal people say that there is a place in the grove...no, town. The town that we are going to. They keep stories about their people on bundles of dead leaves, just like many of the animal people do. It sounded important. I think we should go there!"
When Sieglinde talks about the undead creatures they may face, Roots Drink Rain says, "I have branches that can punch. Pow!" He then pulls a dagger out of its sheath and proudly displaying it says, "My Venture Captain gave me this! I can use it to make holes and cut things!"
Roots replies excitedly when Arfsnarf mentions positive energy. "Ki flows in all things living! Animals eat plants and then they die and plants eat them. But the undying don't want to be eaten so they are...away...from the circle of life."
Roots Drink Rain eagerly climbs up the ridge, following closely behind Klo.
The goblin Pathfinder follows after the others, keeping up the pace. The leshy agent, somewhat understandably, struggles a little bit to maintain his speed in the rocky environment.
Though climbing the hill wasn't effortless, even with the best possible path, the Pathfinders support one another and make their way up and over the hill in a reasonable time.
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The journey in the Gravelands continues. According to the map, there shouldn't be any more hills or mountains to cross, assuming the most direct route to Goldenflame is taken.
The Pathfinders come to a sudden halt, alerted by the sight of movement nearby. Quietly and quickly, you hide yourselves behind rocks and within ruins of former Lastwall buildings. As you take a careful peek, you see a horde of figures, shambling their way along your planned route, away from your destination, and towards you.
A bit longer look reveals these to be, of course, walking corpses. Theirs is a massive patrol of undead troops. Common sense dictates that a direct fight with them would spell certain defeat. Luckily, it seems the legion has not noticed the interloping Pathfinder group. Yet.
They march somewhat slowly, and while the undead don't seem very perceptive, waiting them out could take a while, and would risk getting spotted. Much faster to bypass them, and perhaps safer too.
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Xun hides in the ruins of the old farm. He touches the ground with his hand opening to the nearby spirits. He expects this to be a rough experience. He extends his senses and the moans of dying nearly throw him to the ground. Xun grabs one of his orcish talismans and tries to focus on what he is searching, a loa willing to aid in what he plans, a trickster. After few moments he finds a spirit willing to aid him
Then Xun looks at the squad of undead and attempts to lead them the other way then his allies will be sneaking.
He throws a couple of rocks but is unsure of the outcome
Xun tosses a couple rocks in the other direction in an attempt to misdirect the undead troop. The rock goes largely unnoticed and ignored. Some of the corpses in the marching formation turn their heads toward the general direction of Xun's location, and the half-orc must lay low for a while.
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Sky gets a little worried seeing everyone trying to sneak past the undead, unsure of his own skill at being stealthy. Lucky for him he only wears loose robes that won't make any noise....
...and he sneaks around like a shark lurking in the depths, keeping an eye on his teammates in case they get any unwanted attention.
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A slow growl had begun building in Klós throat the moment the milling mass of undead approached. The big man’s eyes narrow, his hands flexing unwittingly on his longspear. When the group begins an attempt to skirt the group quietly, he follows. He can’t keep his hate-filled eyes off the horde, though, and he his large feet send some rocks skittering across the ground.
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Even the goblin gets nervous when the first rock is tossed.
"Oi, the clacky rock didn't mention this earlier! This be a tough spot."
He turns to the Leshy, asking Hey! If we get seen by them, how many do you think you can knock out with your positive thinking punches? We gots to have backup plan, right?"
Arfsnarf looks around at the team, hoping to hear some sure-fire, silver sling-bullet plan. When Roots and Shark simply move out, the goblin nervously grumbles and tries to stealthily follow.
Moving quietly is natural enough for the small goblin. Having no big metal armor or other equipment helps. As they sneak along, he begins to get genuinely afraid at the number of them on the road.
"Wow... they just never end! Some crusty necromancer animated the entire Shining Crusade graveyard!" He of course says all of this at choice points, behind fragments of ruined buildings, as the team skulks along.
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The monk known as Sky Shark, together with the athletic Kló, crawl and sneak past the marching undead without arousing any suspicion. Arfsnarf follows after, equally discreet, despite his initial above a whisper talking. (He's lucky that the enemy's ears were so decayed.)
Roots Drink Rain's unique stealth strategy, while innovative, leaves (leafs?) something to be desired in terms of speed.
Sieglinde, foregoing the nerve-wracking and slow-paced stealthy approach, simply dashes from one hiding spot to another. Before the undead can scrutinize any single area, she's already gone, and thus she avoids their notice. This, however, puts a serious strain on her stamina...
...but she goes through with it, barely out of breath.
The party manages to sneak past the undead troop. The walking corpses tirelessly continue their shambling march, away from the Pathfinders to who-knows-where, completely unaware that there was fresh flesh just a couple feet away from them just a moment ago.
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Goldenflame is not far. Motivated by the recent close encounter with the bypassing undead troop, the Pathfinders make steady progress in the Gravelands, whose general geography is becoming increasingly familiar.
Familiarity has its limits, however. Arfsnarf yelps in mild pain as he steps on something prickly and thorny, warning the others to come to a halt. The party notices that the grassy forest road ahead of them wasn't exactly made of grass, but instead a prickly undergrowth of thorny weeds and poison ivies.
Perhaps the Vodavani Lodge's information on the fastest route to Goldenflame was somewhat outdated: this road certainly hasn't been well-maintained in the last few years. Still, turning back would waste time. And it seems that it may be possible to carve a path, or to maneuver over the thorniest parts.
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Kló pauses at the yelp, looking around to make sure no other hordes or undead are around to hear it. Then he stoops closely to Arfsnarf's foot, then the ground where he stepped.
With a nod, he crouch-walks forward, using his fingers and nose to try to find the least dangerous or thorny path forward.
Perhaps some unhallow necromantic presence in the Gravelands has mutated the flora to strange forms, as even a druid has difficulty finding a path in the undergrowth.
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Sky tightens up his loose clothing a bit, tying down the baggy areas so they don't get caught on the thorny brush as he tries to hop and weave his way through it by doing flips and other impressive dexterous feats...
...and he almost feels guilty, showing off how easy it is to cartwheel through a thorny undergrowth.
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"Everybody knows what goblins like, right? "
Arfsnarf's juvenile-sounding voice intones a short series of incantations in Draconic before he thrusts his hands forward, sending bolts of flame at an isolated cluster of bramble vines. The path is just wide enough for him to tiptoe through easily, and relatively quickly.
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When Arfsnarf asks Roots Drink Water about how many undead he can knock out with his positive energy punches he thinks for a long time before finally holding up two fingers.
"Yay! Plant friends!" Roots squeals as he rushes towards the wall of brambles with his arms wide open as if he wants to hug them. The leshy leaps fearlessly head first into the thorny bushes.