Gripping his bow tightly with both hands, Alwin focuses intently on the weapon’s unique inscriptions. With a single word he releases a bolt of energy that strieks towards the zombie and catches it directly in the chest.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Torgald swung again. He focused on accuracy over power, seeking just to get in a decent hit.
Tore, Felos and John all turn to their magic abilities but miss the zombie. Alwin fires missiles of force at it and leaves a burn mark. Torgald smashes the zombie but seems to do no damage and misses with his next attack.
The zombie attacks Tore again and everyone hears him connect.
Round 3
Party Up
Zombie -6
Again, Felos flings acid.
Again, he flings it wide.
John also does his best to fling another glob of acid, with little hope that he can do better than Felos.
Using his magic to will his book to grow spikes, which lashed out as Torgald swung it, he tried again to hit the zombie. For all of his efforts though, all he could really do was curse as the pain nearly made him double over.
After watching the zombie absorb his arrow and magical bolt without flinching, Alwin decides his normal means of attack is insufficient. Calling once again on his arcane training, he recites a short phrase in elven, which causes his bow to tighten and creak as if under additional strain.
Tore takes aim and a ray of positive energy leaves his hand.
This time the ray hits the creature square in the chest.
Alphonso will grab a big stick (staff) the first round and then advance within 10 feet and then cast true strike the second round.
Felos and John attack the zombie and miss it. Torgald whacks him over the head but doesn't do as much damage as he thinks. Alwing casts a spell while Tore casts one of his own and kills the creature.
After allowing the spell to dissipate from his bow, Alwin walks over and stands beside the zombie. "Well that was a bit unpleasant. "
Tore walks over and kicks the body before bending down to search it.
"Carful. What ever that thing died from could be contagious."
sorry my magic was not of much use againat what we have faced so far Alphonso says with a shrug
Tore kicks the body and it falls apart some more. The group finds nothing of value on the creature and continues on to the witch's hut.
The sounds of the forest become suddenly distant as the trees part, opening into a small, almost perfectly circular glade. The nearest stands of pine, eyln, and darkwood—all typically sturdy woods—twist away from the clearing, as if bent by some impossibly strong wind or seemingly in an attempt to flee despite their paralyzed roots. At the glade’s center squats an ugly cottage, little more than a pile of twigs, shoots, and ivy stacked upon mud walls. From the thatched roof dangle bundles of gnarled roots, old dried beast carcasses, and knucklebone bangles, all clattering together like gruesome wind chimes. A dozen small thatched fetishes—each shaped like a tiny man, imp, or rearing serpent—stand propped in the yard, keeping guard before a rickety plank door.
Felos’ hair stands on end. ”Oh this place will be fine. Nothing bad could be here.”
”Do we dare risk walking through these straw creatures or should we try shouting for a peaceful conversation from here? Does anyone have any white fabric we could run up like a banner of peace?”
I say we try from here Alphonso says wanting as little risk as possible.
”Aye. One gave us this much trouble. Should there be more numbers then we be fooked.”
"I'm good with either. If you intend to shout, who's going to be doing the shouting and what do you intend to shout?" Alwin asks as he considers the group's current state. "If we get into another heavy scrape we will be in trouble. It might be a good idea to make note of this place, pull back, rest, and then come back at another time. That would allow for a bit of healing and the recoup of spent magics. Just a thought anyway."
I agree with alwin. safety in this case may be the best p[art of valor. Tore states simply
"If we find a good enough spot to camp, it might also allow us the opportunity to observe the place throughout the night. Of course this would be at the risk of something or someone randomly stumbling on us."
”However, everyday we wait means more people die in Falcon’s Hollow. If we keep stopping every time one of us gets a scrape there won’t be anyone left there to save. Perhaps I can negotiate with her and if no, perhaps give her a taste of her own charms.”
"Agreed Felos, every minute counts. That being said, if we fail in our mission more than a few will pay for that failure. The overall success of what we are attempting to do here, has to be a priority. That, of course, is nothing more than my opinion. Its an interesting balance of pressing time vs risk."
The mages stand at the edge of the forest clearing and discuss their plans. What will they do next?
Alwin leans on his bow and listens patiently as he waits to see what the group decides to do next.
Let's push on. We can Haloo the house as we come in. That way no one is surprised we are coming. The oread says.
”Very well, lead the way,” John answers being sure to leave enough room between the oread and himself that if the strawmen do come to life and attack he’ll be out of harm’s way.
Alwin retrieves his bow and prepares to follow the group.
Ready here we go. The oread says as he begins walking forward keeping his eyes on the hut ready call out.
Felos heads to the front.
”Hello? We mean no harm. We’ve come to trade. Please hear us out.”
As the group approaches the first straw figure the silence is deafening. The first is passed, then the second. Soon all are past and the mages arrive at the door to silence.
Alphonso walks to the door and looks it over and will use the makeshift staff he picked up to knock on the door
As he approaches the door Alphonso sees the moldering door has rotted off its hinges but still blocks the way within. His knock elicits no response from inside.
this door is barely on the hinges. Anyone with strength want to open it? There is no answer. and Alphonso backs off.
"Might want to check it for traps before attempting to enter."
The badly injured dwarf stomped forward, looked for any signs of traps upon the door, and then pushed it open.
Inside, the cottage is dank, reeking, and filled with shadows. Haphazardly hung shelves line the walls, covered in all manner of clay jugs, clouded bottles, strangely cut rocks, rotted bunches of herbs, and a museum of other crude curios and remnants of a bone grinder’s artifice. A rusted iron cauldron, with a mouth nearly 5 feet wide and a depth of at least 3 feet, dominates the hut’s single room, its ash-covered surface shaped with a relief of capering fiends and leering devils. Across from the door, against the far walls, stands a highbacked chair made of wicker, the gigantic curved tusks of some monstrous beast, and thousands of human teeth. In the chair sits what looks like a corpse wrapped in filthy burial linens, its form padded with pungent herbs and sprouting patches of thick white mold.
Felos will avoid the corpse and instead start searching the shelves for the roots they’re looking for.
”If that’s the witch, perhaps he won’t need to negotiate anything.”
Feeling the exertion of forcing the door, Torgald walked outside, slumped against the wall and slid down to a sitting position. ”Loot the hovel or talk to the corpse.” He said. ”Gonna sit here for a spell.”
Alwin knocks an arrow and then moves over next to Torgald. After giving the dwarf a slight nod in agreement with his choice to rest, Alwin posts up next to the door and provides cover for those searching the room. “I would suspect all kinds of magical mishaps in a witch’s hovel. Be swift and carful.”
Once in place he begins uttering a few magical words in elven, which cause his vision to shift slightly.
Felos begins moving things on the shelves and swears he hears a metal on stone sound but looks around and only sees the cauldron. He moves more things around and Alwin swears he saw the cauldron move. Then he is sure of it as the cauldron moves to Felos and tries to bite him but misses.
Round 1
Party Up
Felos steps clear of the cauldron and let’s more acid fly.
”Mwor!! Stupid pot!”
Torald pulled himself to his feet and muttered the arcane words needed for form ethereal armor on himself.
From outside the door, John begins assessing the visible component and materials. Not wanting to gain a reputation as the squeaky wheel, he refrains from warning the others not to touch anything. When the cauldron springs to life it only confirms in his mind how reckless his new companions are. For a moment he contemplates flinging more acid but, given how ineffective it proved last time, he instead reaches out and touches Torgald with a flash of white light.
After watching the blackened caldron move, Alwin draws back his bow and fires and arrow. “Carful the pot is animated,” he calls out just before firing his bow.
Tore, seeing the pot attack, takes a moment and focus's. His skin grows thicker and more stony.
Alphonso will back away from the attacking pot and look around for something useful to attack it with.