Only one road provides access to the region: a long and winding track that becomes increasingly overgrown the further it stretches from Kintargo, the capital of Ravounel. The journey from Kintargo to Crooked Cove is 280 miles. As travelers round the final corner to take in the sight of the long-abandoned settlement, a partially collapsed sign proclaims the site to be “Crook Cove.” The town’s buildings have largely collapsed into rubble. Half-collapsed pilings of wood jut from the surf, all that remains of many of the structures that once graced the shoreline.
None can miss the lone surviving building that stands within a clearing atop an otherwise wooded bluff overlooking the town to the northeast. Surrounded by a rusty iron fence, this manor was built so many years ago by Ioseff Xarwin, and among the town’s buildings, it alone has stood the test of time. A short additional walk up the hill along a barely-discernible track leads to reach the front gates to the manor grounds.
Laurel cartwheels off the wagon!
"Ma yuh shure this'n the spot, yeh? Don'a lookin' much more'n jes' bust wood 'n rocks cept thet sign what seys "Crook Cove"" he throws a rock at it and it swivels with a creak at the impact - then leap-spins the other direction and that is when he sees it "Oh wait: Cept' fer that prolly don't wanna go in thar nosir" he squints to get a better look "Ma yuh think any'un be livin' in it? Caint say-so from the outside looks but reckon it'd be the sorta place comin' straight outta some bad dream think I wunce hed" scratches his head to assist in recalling the experience and shudders at the memory...
...not one to over-malinger on negative thoughts however, our young hero banishes it from his head with barely a morsel of effort "Looks like in any case we gotsa be beddin' down 'ere the night - give the ol' mules a water an' a nap - here, lemme help yuh down" he escorts a middle-aged Varisian woman with long greyish-white hair down off the vehicle, and the two of them get to setting up a campfire, chattering in Varisian and having a good laugh. "Hey you in th' back - wanna come 'n sit by the faer? Goss sum roast nuts acookin' ta share!" the lad jovially yells at the passenger(s) that had the pleasure of listening to the boy talk for the last 280 miles from Kintargo virtually non-stop...
Just then, a thunderstrike booms across landscape, and as if rending the cumulonimbus clouds right open, the first sprinkle of a rapidly developing rain covers everything in a light mist "Shucks - lookit aer luck, Ma!" he says as he throws a second rock straight into the sky as if to beat back the weather conditions to their former composition.
Zoi's one good wing flutters in the night as the lightning illuminates their desolate landscape. He listens quietly as the boy breaks through the silence, clutching at the small medallion to Pharasma around his neck and underneath his tattered cloak. He had traveled quite a ways with Pharasma's voice still in his head on unfinished fate. He would have thought it little more than a dream if he didn't still bear the scar and crippling condition that had killed him months ago.
He grabs a few of the roasted nuts and cracks them open with his beak. "Why here? It is abandoned." He looks at the house as dozens upon dozens of masked crows rest in the burned down and collapsed houses. He wondered if the others could see them as well, but continues to eat the nuts.
Down the road truds a heavy creature. The sound of his boots hitting the ground can be heard long before one can see him. A small but heavy figure with no hair on his head but plenty on his chin. His grey beard means that he is developed in age, or aged early in his age. He carries a half-plate armor, steel shield and a hammer covered with runes.
The dwarf, as he is one stands next to Zoi's and looks at the same crows as he is looking. "I have a bit of hard cheese that would go nicely with those roasted nuts. I don't have any wine, but we can heave a look." He spots the Pharasma medallion and chuckls "Ha, I could have expected that, did they send you as well here? One from the lady of graves?"
The dwarf rubs his head with a gauntlet and looks up the sky "At least the weather is nice..." his brown eyes are opened wide
Getting out of what is a rickety old carriage is a youngish looking gnome, bright red hair is neatly in place on both his head and his face. Black rimmed glasses sit snuggly on his nose. He smiles and with one hand brushes the dust of travel from his once bright blue frock coat that sits above his dirty yellow leather boots. In his other hand he holds a book, as though his very life depends upon it.
Opening the leather bound ledger, he adjusts his glasses and starts to study it's pages, oblivious to what's going on around him, the rutted road, the weak sun in the sky and the what is surely an abandoned town. His head jerks up as he looks up at the last mansion standing, then buries his head in the book again.
After a few moments, he starts to nod his head and look up triumphantly, "Yes, I'm sure, this it!" a finger points to place on the page. He smiles. "You can unload my luggage, I can take it for here." he says cheerfully before he takes an interest in "Crook Cove", when his jaw drops, "Oh......." his voice trails off in disappointment.
Seeing others on the road, he takes on a serious look, his brow furrows, "Pourrimenmots de Sibelius, your legal representative should you need one." He bows his head, "With the resources of Sibelius, Sibelius and Grieg, lawyers to the nobility of Egorian at your service. Competitive rates for all" As he says this he starts to hand out small white cards with a flaming frame at the edge. In the center his name is written in a fancy script that almost seems to move on the surface like a snake, with the address of the firm in bold block print.
"Hol' it" the boy grabs the gnome's luggage, hefting it over his wiry frame "Dunno be needin' no legel re-prez-in-tashun" barely spitting the word out "Some-at back are larger camps is we sit 'roun' serkle an' jus' talk it out - an' thereby furtherwits disputin' thet gets settled by the elders an' their wisdum" plopping the bags down "Pardon fer interduck-shins" the boy bows deeply "I be Laurel an' this'ere's me Ma" finally "Kin I calls ya Sib?"
With impressive and impulsive hunger, turning to the dwarven man, Laurel grabs a honk of cheese and stuffs it in his mouth - then manages to cram a bunch of nuts at each of crooks - only realizing his jaw is over-loaded in it's chewing duties when he struggles with the inertia of a first bite down - the enormity of the task dawning over his face at a crawling pace.
His mother just glares.
He looks at his feet, somewhat ashamed. After a spell - the whole of the portion finally swallowed with continuous and great effort - he answers Zoi's question "Thought this be whar' ya wan'ed to be landin' at!" looking surprised and confused.
"Squawk!" Zoi flutters. "Aye, they sent me, or at least I think so. I have been following them for awhile now. Not sure what it means, but it has to be something if we are all here." He hadn't paid a lot of attention to the weather as the wind whipped through his feathers.
Shocked at Laurel's forwardness and energy, de Sibelius looks on in surprise, "Umm, de Sibelius i..i.if you please." His eyes blink behind his glasses, as he shuts the book up tight. "L..L.Laurel and Mah Laurel, let me just say, that everyone needs legal representation in their lives, and sometimes after. As our Pharesmin, Mr Royok will know, when the Lady of Graves judges your life, sometimes it's best to have someone on your side to help explain the legal reason for your decisions. You know it might make a difference, we can present your arguments more professionally than many would in front of such an august judge and provide the evidence to let you move to a more comfortable plane of existence." he finishes with a flourish and a smile.
Feeling more comfortable in himself, he places the leather book back into his bags, as he retrieves a scroll, "And of course we can take care of all the worldly goods you leave behind after your adventuring, making sure that your wishes in life are upheld in death. Now both you and your Mah could well be interested in creating your Almost Last Will and Testimoney. Just leave your mark here and we at Sibelius, Sibelius and Grieg will ensure if you succumb to an unfortunate accident here, then anything you gained before your death is meted out to the right people. Just put your mark, here......and here.. and Mah Laurel ... just here. As you can see our charges are reasonable."
Looking around, a smiling de Sibelius, offers the same service to Mr Royok and Mr Goldenoak.
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Laurel's mom corrects Pourrimenmots de Sibelius in a thick Varisian accent, plucking the word from a half understood sentence the gnome blustered about, and allowing the clever lawyer to have a second opportunity with it's pronunciation across his slithery tongue.
Yes, she just stands there, with the look of expectation on her face, and even reaches her hands gently around his head, grabbing him by each cheek like he were a child, forcing him to focus entirely and singularly upon what is now right before him - her - and continues to wait expectantly.
Laurel turns his head the other way - a surprised but also mischievously gleeful look coming over his face, unmistakeably a look that simultaneously communicates sympathy for poor Sibelius's immediate plight but with a clear tone of remorseless "glad that's not me!" and decides to change the subject "Look! Swoar it mov'd, thet creepy buildin' o'er ther - didja sees et!?"
There is a momentary silence where only the licking crackle of flames from the campfire dances in the ear as if escaping the silence to freedom...
Just as it becomes likely Laurel's claim can be dismissed as nerves, a shadowy figure separates itself from the silhouette of the building. It stands motionless for a moment then comes lurching toward the group.
At first, you suspect the person is hurt. That would explain the staggering nature of his gait. But then, it just seems like he is learning to walk with each step and each step is being taken by a different person.
The voluminous cloak and deep hood he's wearing do little to reveal anything further about him as he approaches, but when he gets close enough, the firelight occasionally illuminates the pale skin and trimmed beard on his face. That same light makes a mockery of trying to determine the color of that hair or his eyes, though.
"Greetings. I am Galimus," he says, emphasizing every syllable of his name.
"I heard news of this place and came to investigate what happened here. Is that your purpose for being here, as well?"
The deafening roar of thunder rumbles through the area, although only a few scattered clouds can be found in the sky. The rumble disrupts a large swarm of sparrows, that takes flight from the nearby trees and circle around the manor in a clockwise direction (as viewed from above).
As they fly overhead, the group sees they are not simple birds, but some sort of avian creatures, each with a plague mask.
The overgrown road comes to an end at a pair of rusty wrought-iron gates flanked by two stone pillars. Beyond, the woodlands recede before a large clearing of tall, dry grass, at the center of which looms Xarwin Manor. The building’s roofline rises in the middle to a third level surrounded by a walkway, while the closed dome of what appears to be an observatory rises above. Slate shingles cover the steeply-slanted roofs below this central dome with more rusty ironwork adorning its eaves. The paint along the manor’s wooden walls has mostly peeled away, leaving behind a weathered building clad in creeping vines that looks like forgotten by the world. Even at a distance, the building’s facade seems unusually moist, as if it had just weathered torrential downpour despite the dryness of the surrounding grounds.
Zoi looks overhead as the ravens fly past. "Those are Nosoi psychopomps." He nods in their direction. "Messengers from the boneyard, likely here to witness our judgements here." He sighs deeply. "No point in waiting around for nothing." He tucks his mangles wing in close and begins to hobble towards the manor's front door.
Galimus watches the birds fly overhead then turns his gaze to the birdlike man in their midst.
With the explanation given, he gives a little involuntary shudder, feeling the figures are somehow familiar and wondering if he's met their kind before.
He hesitates only a moment before catching up to Zoi, though and following him toward the house. There is something here for him, he is sure of it.
Sibelius just about looks up from his book as the swarm of small birds begin to disappear. He shrugs his shoulder "The clerks, must of been behind with their work. Good to see they've finished." He takes in the vista of the mouldy mansion.
Scratching and pulling his red beard, the gnome pips up in a matter of fact voice "You know, I think my client and I should make an inventory of the exterior and grounds whilst there is still light. Shouldn't take long, after all it looks a wreck, most everything out here in the grounds will be broken with no valuables. Once done I'm sure the inside can wait, after all we have light don't we." The gnome places his leather tome in the bag and retrieves his implements to record the grounds details in readiness for any legal disputes.
"Well I suppose we should start up there now ..." he says looking up the pathway towards the iron gates, the entry to the grounds.
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When Galimus comes stumbling down the hill from , Laurel draws his "lucky" starknife and "side" dagger from his effects, and twirls them menacingly , yelling out "We be proteck-tid 'ere by Desna an' 'er army 'o one - thas ME - come any closer an' I'm'a give yuh a THIS an' a THAT!" he feigns deadly swings at the approaching... person? Stashing his blades, he changes tone "Sarry ther' - thot you was, wull, I dunno, maybe a 'speck-ter 'er summat" then adds stream-of-consciouss "You busted up as ol' Zoi 'ere - butcha got both legs werkin' so..." he looks over at the tengu's bent wing and changes his mind about finishing that sentence "I be Laurel, an' this is me Ma, thet Zoi, he be Sib but preferrin' yuh callin by 'is full name wich I arty fergot, and uh, thet be the dworf Fundin, and..." he spins two full circles pointing a finger looking for someone else it seems, but finding none, says "Mebe thess it..." a breath before "Yeah guess we goin' upin thet creepy buildin' o'er ther - not tah say iss a good idee, but don't nobody askin' Laurel whuts whut no sir on account my age s'poze..."
Laurel starts at the thunderclap - quickly diving behind Zoi, then coming back around announcing proudly "I'm not scairt - jus' thot ther be sumthin' behind ya Zoi but asit terns out thar ain't be" which is definitely not an excuse. Definitely not.
"Aw crikey!" he swears "Gess here we go" and makes his way with the group towards the manor...
A tall varisian man with a neatly trimmed goatee slowly descends from the wagon. "Are we there already? Why didn't anyone wake me?"
As he spots Galimus her turns to his solicitor. "De Sibelius. Who is this man and why is he hiding in my manor?"
He notices the 'birds' and frowns. Psychopomps? Those masks...I've seen something like that before."
Fundin was eating a piece of cheese when he saw it, more of an abomination than a man. He called himself Galimus, but Fundin only wondered if his soul was in a similar shape as his body. Maybe the reason that he came here was not the manor but others that were drawn here.
He looked at the gnome and human, they had business of their own. The lad with two knives seemed very eager and excited, he buried himself a couple of such lads. The tengu was a bit odd, he needs to keep an eye on him like he was not fully there.
He looked up and nodded. Psychopomp is doing their work, it is not a normal manor then.
Funding grabs his shield and straps it to his hand. Seeing looks from the others "Oh trust me, I walked through some old houses, when the wall is collapsing on you it is better to grab it with your shield than hands."
"Master De Sibelius, do you mind if I join you looking at the house?"
"...An' You!" Laurel finally finishes finger-counting all the people "Wudn't it... Laz?" truncating the two-syllable name down to one.
Galimus joins the group, walking along with them if invited, shadowing them, if not.
He simply nods in response to the introductions. Whether he is a man of few words or just holding his tongue around strangers is yet to be seen.
But he studies the area intently with the air of a man who is trying to remember something and is looking for clues.
Adjusting his specs, Sibelius takes a step holding a pencil in menacing manner threatening Galimus, "Yes, yes I don't recall you being mentioned as part of the inventory, Mr .... ummm" he looks about helplessly. "So what have you umm... I mean do you .... umm ... then finding a new found confidence in his legal background, he continues "Well are you part of the retinue in Xarwin Manor. I was told it is uninhabited and empty. My clients want to take possession when the legal papers have been filed, when we find the right documents in the house. " He lowers the pen, as the combined company accept the newcomer, but does insist on an answer as he retreats towards Lazlo.
"Well Mr Gorog, he seems to be here to help ..." his voice trails off, hoping that he isn't asked to enforce the letter of the law against the Galimus creature, not really sure that he could anyway.
In an effort to change the subject, Sibelius attempts to guide Lazlo away from Galimus, with the gentle hand in the small of the man's back. "Here, it seems Mr Goldenoak has some business in the mansion, I believe he is here to help protect the rightful inheritance from any malcontents. Am I right or am I right?" The quick tongued lawyer, quickly answers the question directed at Fundin, no allowing the dwarf to respond with any words of his own, "Yes, Yes of course I am. I would so welcome your company Mr Goldenoak, join with us for a survey of the grounds first. Good to get the lie of the land, before we go in and start our thorough searches inside. It would be a pleasure if you would join us, don't you think Mr Gorog." he bows to Lazlo with a forced smile on his face. As he watches some of Laurel's antics, Who knows what goes on in the minds of those so young. and lets out a sigh.
Swaths of moist green moss grow on the stone pillars that flank this rusty wrought iron gate. Tangles of blackberry vines weave through the gate’s bars. A rusty metal coat of arms comprised of a series of overlapping circles, rings, and stars adorns the front of the gate.
The front gate isn’t locked, but the thick growth of vines helps hold it closed. The gate and iron fence surrounding the manor grounds are 10 feet high.
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Zoi grabs ahold of some of the vines and stretches them taut. Using his beak he cuts through them enough to get one of the gates slightly open.
Pure f%#+ery!
Seeing the "birds" overhead our mischievous hero pulls his "trusty" slingshot, sticks his tongue out to aim at one and snaps a rock their direction!
It goes skidding past unnoticed, and he shrugs, then looks at Zoi, then feels bad, then stows the weapon, then races all the way from the back of the group to the front - strangely quiet! - and kicks open the gate...
... It would be a pleasure if you would join us, don't you think Mr Gorog."[/b] he bows to Lazlo with a forced smile on his face.
Staring intently at the psychopomps, Lazlo waves distractedly at the barrister. "What? Yes I'm sure that's fine."
Tearing his gaze from the odd birdlike beings he examines the coat of arms. "Oh! it's a map of Golarion’s solar system."
Fundin reaches under his armor and takes out the glasses that he puts on his nose. He looks at the coat of arms just to hear someone tossing a rock. He looks back to see the kiddo shooting at the psychopomps
"Hey Laddie! Leave them alone! Those are not some sparrows that you can hunt upon!" The dwarf gives a hard stare to the boy. He then turn back to the coat of arms
"Master Gorog, isn't it Coat of Arms of your family?" he looks at the man if he has any symbol of him representing his family.
He removes his gauntlet showing a ring of his own
"You see Goldenoak clan has a symbol of its own, a cask of beer made of oak. Oak casks are unique in the way how we make them..."
"But, why the star system?" Zoi looks back at Lazlo curiously.
Galimus recoils from de Sibelius' verbal assault, at first. His expression undergoes a strange change before the gnome is finished though. It shifts through a furious glare, a look of quiet menace and finally a gaze of simple superior disdain.
But what is truly strange is that the man's features actually change with each different expression. Each shift is accompanied by a faint but unmistakable alteration of his cheek bones, chin, nose, mouth and even the shape and color of his eyes.
It ends before de Sibelius does, returning to his meek expression. "I...I...honestly don't know why I am here, Sir. I have had...some troubles with my memory. There was an accident... I saw a notice about this place and... Well, it struck a chord, Sir. I won't get in your way and pretend no claims to the place. I am just hoping I might find some clues about my past. Something to jog my memory."
A rock flies out at the birds, missing wildly. A mischievious Laurel is putting a sling into his pocket when everyone turns their heads. He is quickly chastised by Fundin.
Zoiqoppour reaches over and snaps the vines with his beak. The rusty hinges shriek and squeal in protest as the gate is pushed open with some difficulty.
The overgrown path leading from the front gate splits into a crossroads. To the north, the path leads to the manor’s front door, while to the east, it curls around the manor’s side. To the west, the path leads toward a collapsed building and an algae-choked pond before winding around the manor as well. The rotting trunk of a fallen oak tree lies across the crossroads, almost as if forming a barrier to those who would approach the manor—or perhaps to keep something within from traveling out.
Zoi stops in his tracks, spreading his one good wing out wide to block the others from advancing. "Do you see that?" He points to the rotten trunk. "It is pulsing and throbbing like it is alive!" He shudders, not wanting to get close.
Noting down the symbols on the gate, Sibelius blinks and concentrates on the notebook "Solar System you say, Interesting, interesting ... " his brow furrows in thought. Looking up he sees Zoi entering and starting down the path./ When he suddenly stops, Sibelius looks up in surprise, "What! did you say that tree is moving. Most unusual, most unusual ..." He adjusts his glasses and looks at the 'moving tree'.
+5 Occultism
+9 Religion
+2 Wisdom based
+0 Intelligence based
Laurel recoils at the scolding with the easy dexterity of experience in such a situation - and kicks a rock next to him with his bare foot to "let out" a little of his extra energy, which goes skipping across the ground harmlessly.
When Zoi warns about the trunk, our young hero draws his "luck" starknife and "side" dagger once more "Tree be movin' is it? Stay yuh-selves back! I kin fight as all git out!" he wriggles his lithe body into a "pose" of sorts, twirling the blades with surprising skill, and looking ready to pounce!
"Master Gorog, isn't it Coat of Arms of your family?" he looks at the man if he has any symbol of him representing his family.
He removes his gauntlet showing a ring of his own
"You see Goldenoak clan has a symbol of its own, a cask of beer made of oak. Oak casks are unique in the way how we make them..."
"Yes, I imagine that crest represents the Xarwin line. Frankly I only learned of the family connection from de Sibelius a few weeks ago." Looking up he notices the throbbing tree and recoils. "Gods! What is that tree doing? Trees aren't supposed to do that."
Zoi looks at Laurel. "Young one, could you toss one of your stones at it to see if the trunk stirs." Zoi would rather see from afar than find out next to the living, breathing tree.
Laurel kicks a rock at the logs, which causes the throbbing to frenzy. There appears to be a swarm of insects that infest the logs.
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"I hete bugs" Laurel complains "Uh, I'll lead yuh all thet way goin' 'round an' such, ta uh, not go mussin' wit none them bugs" bravely volunteering to avoid the logs.
Leaving the logs behind, he goes up to the living trunk, and tosses a rock at it We be here ta..." the boy stops mid-sentence. Why are we here again? He spins to his party to clarify, looking at Lazlo Gorog "This yer creepy ol' house right?" that seems to satisfy him "...ta help this'n fine fellow git 'is house back, an..." he spins to Pourrimenmots de Sibelius "...this is the, uh, Liar (thes' whut ye callim', I say thet right?) - an' the Liar here ta prove an' such" he beams his chest at the tree tucking his fists at both hips with bent elbows to increase his height as he announces the party's presence "One more thing, Tree: yuh got a nem? I be Laurel, an' thet be..." he points around the group reciting each person's name before finally stopping.
Fundin hides his glasses and looks at the pointed tree "Maybe it is just an impression." The dwarf wonders and moves forwards
He moves towards the tree with his shield ready...
De Sibelius splutters and his red beard moves violently up and down, as he hears Laurel call him a 'Liar' ... Rocking backward and forward on his heels, dropping his book and pencils to the floor, [l]Whaaatttt!!!![/l] he says very loudly. Then as the stream that would be coming out of his ears cools, he looks nay, stares at Laurel, realising that she might not be the brightest spark in the fire, he lets out several gaffaws. "I think you mean Lawyer." he says pointedly.
Then bending over, he scrabbles with his hands on the floor retrieving his bits and pieces. The mud and damp cover Sibelius' fingers as he picks his pencils up. He looks around for someone's long coat to wipe his hands, he purses his lips annoyed, shrugging his shoulders, suddenly a yellow, orange and red flames leap from his hands, drying them and the mud. Before he throws it at the vegetation around the gate, hoping that it will burn it back a bit, to make travelling out easier. Then rubbing his hands together to get rid of the dried earth, he settles down again, takes a deep breath, book and pencils once more held firmly. He scribbles furiously...
Hearing Laurel's attempt to befriend the tree, "Now Laurel, don't go disturbing the 'tree', it's not right if it's moving. Trees grow slowly by the laws of nature. If it moves it is ... a tree out of sorts, would need cataloging later, it might not be friendly. Now Mr Goldenoak, if you'd like to sign this disclaimer, before you go marching...... " He watches the glassless dwarf start towards the tree. "Oh no, now .... oh look Mr Goldenoak ... " he stands watching a moment stunned by the turn of events. "I apologise Mr Golog, these people are a little bit ... impulsive..."
"Lie-yer" Laurel pronounces "gotit" then listening to the gnome's advice "Trees grow slowly by the laws of nature" he rephrases with reduced tempo "Hey..... Tree....." pointing to himself "I be..... Laurel....." then pointing to it "Yuh got..... a nem?"
"Let's circle around to the west of the house while we still have light." Zoi motions towards the small lake, thougha ll of those squirming bugs did look quite delectable.
Sibelius' shoulders sag as he lets out a sigh, Laurel.... oh it's no good! He shrugs once more, looks over to the tengu, "Good idea Zoi." resigned to having to follow Laurel, when she gets into trouble, he mumbles, "By Asmodeus, give a girl an starknife and a dagger and trouble follows!"
"Mr Gorog, don't get entranced by moving trees, it may not be part of the inheritance and therefore we must be careful. Are you sure you're alright?"
Lazlo seems unnerved by the pulsing trees but manages to tear his gaze from them to respond to the barrister. "What?" He shakes his head. "Oh yes I'm fine. Yes circle the manor. That sounds good."
Some members of the group start circling around to the west, but Fundin investigates further, and as he approaches, hundreds of centipedes swarm out of the rotten trees.
The barrister is the first to react.
--Round 1
de Sibelius
Red Centipede Swarm
Yellow Centipede Swarm
Blue Centipede Swarm
Laurel
Lazlo
Zoi
Galimus
Fundin (shield raised)
--Round 2
Fundin was walking towards the tree when Barrister called him. He managed to turn around and ask "What did you say? You want me to get closer?" He then in his eyes saw that something was wrong
Galimus lingers at the back of the group, hoping, perhaps that they will forget he is there. He's found that the less attention he attracts to himself the better things go.
When talk of the pulsing tree arises, he recoils even further, in no hurry to rush into trouble.
Then Fundin encroaches on their territory and Galimus releases a little cry of terror as the centipedes come billowing out in a wave of carapace and legs.
De Sibelius is horrified by the creatures swarming out of the logs, What the devil are they and so many of them? We must get rid of them ... oh horrible ... His first reaction is to make some sort of prayer and gestures that suddenly create a red and orange sphere of heat under the closest mass of swirling creatures.
Lazlo recoils as the insects pour from the trees. "Ugh! They're awful!"
"They're ... they're ... bug swarms!" yells de Sibelius, not knowing what else to say. Instead of speaking with eloquent words, he speaks with an eloquent rolling sphere of flames.
vs DC 19
Many of the bugs scatter out of the way, but the area is scorched.
The Red swarm reforms and charges at Lazlo and de Sibelius ◆◆, biting them ◆.
plus venom
Yellow calls dibs on Fundin, moving up ◆ and swarming him twice ◆◆.
plus venom
plus venom
Blue heads for poor Galimus ◆◆, just minding his own business when he gets swarmed ◆.
plus venom
--Round 1
Laurel
Lazlo (Reflex vs -7 hp, Fort vs poison)
Zoi
Galimus (Reflex vs -1 hp, Fort vs poison)
Fundin (Reflex vs -4 hp, Reflex vs -1 hp, Fort vs poison, Fort vs poison)
--Round 2
de Sibelius (Reflex vs -7 hp, Fort vs poison)
Red Centipede Swarm (-5 hp, -weakness)
Yellow Centipede Swarm
Blue Centipede Swarm
Laurel sticks his tongue out and crunches his face "I hete bugs!" his emnity seemingly whipping him up into a fury!
◆) Hunt Prey
◆) Twin Takedown w/ Precision Edge
◆) Feather Step (away)
He stabs his "lucky" starknife into the ground, then twirls his dagger sideways, chopping away as many of the disgusting critters as he can "Spred Out!" he yells "Nassy buggers slimey swarmin' ta no good!" exasperated and somersaulting backwards!
Zoi spreads out and lets out a loud squawk. Overhead a lot of the masked ravens begin a haunting chorus that only seems to fuel the magic within the psychopomps.
HP 30/30
AC 17 (18 w/ shield)
Hero Points 1/1
Spells Used:
Divine Font 4/4
Battle Medicine:
Lazlo screams and performs a macabre dance as he tries to brush the centipedes off of his body. "Ahh! Get them off! Get them off!"
"Everybody spread out!" Lazlo moves away from the swarm and pulls an alchemist's fire from a belt pouch.