"I can make holy water if we need it. I mean, it's expensive no matter what, and takes forever, but we could use a couple days off and maybe can buy some from church to spread it around."
"Hi! Drinks, food, general care-taking. I also sing and play. A bit."
Alisanne walks over with wine and lute in hand.
She places her drink down next to Bimz and gives him a stroke, making sure to brush against Julie's hand.
Sing and play, eh? Let's!
She pulls Julie around onto the stage proper and starts playing, encouraging Julie to join her.
Alisanne: Julie smiles kindly and taps her fingers on the stage as she looks at you. Getting a closer look at her you can see that she's very slight of build and she has lots of piercings--a stud in her nose, a hoop in her lip and another in her eyebrow and lots in each ear. She also wears a simple cord with a ring dangling from it as a necklace.
She nods and smirks at you, and joins you in a song.
Belwick turns his attention to the music, the tension slowly releasing from him as the performance goes on.
Baghotir makes a 100gp worth of holy water anyway - just in case. It's an extravagance, he agrees, but he can always sell it later if he comes to that sort of need.
He's ready to go the next day, since the Baron is in such a hurry!
Belwick turns his attention to the music, the tension slowly releasing from him as the performance goes on.
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"We can certainly clear the island." Caelius says. "Do the pirates or dark clerics still lay claim to any of it?"
"We can certainly clear the island." Caelius says. "Do the pirates or dark clerics still lay claim to any of it?"
"At the moment... No... That's why we have this opportunity. The Mariner's guild has staked claim for Saltmarsh. Now they just need exterminators."
Alisanne plays throughout the night, enjoying Julie's company on stage as much as she's able. She makes sure her wine glass in never empty for long.
As the night winds down, she joins the others. With talk of the Abbey Island at the fore, Alisanne throws in her vote to take the job.
Sounds like fun!
Caelius nods as he understands. "Sounds good then. Wasn't looking to make enemies of any pirate pacts or cultists organizations."
In the morning the group finds Belwick sitting at a corner table in The Adventurers Guildhouse, surrounded by an array of mystical components. His spellbook rests open before him as he meticulously arranges a brass brazier, filling it with coal, fragrant incense, and an assortment of rare herbs.
Seeing his friends, the nobleman pauses briefly. "My apologies, but I have a bit of spellcraft I wanted to perform before we left. It won't take long."
Taking a deep breath, Belwick begins the incantation, his voice resonating with arcane power. He taps his fingertips on the table rhythmically, channeling the energy within him. The herbs release their aromatic essence, creating a sweet-smelling haze that envelops the room.
As the incantation reaches its crescendo, the coal in the brazier ignites, sending sparks dancing in the air. A faint, otherworldly aura forms above the brazier, swirling and twisting like a miniature tempest. Belwick's face flushes as he focuses his intent on the familiar he seeks—an owl.
Within the swirling mist, a form begins to take shape. Feathery brown wings materialize first, followed by a pair of luminous eyes that peer about the room.
With unwavering concentration, Belwick reaches out his hand, and the apparition glides toward him. It perches gracefully on his outstretched arm, its presence warm and comforting. The owl's eyes lock with Belwick's, a silent connection formed between mage and familiar.
Anyone watching the spectacle see Belwick and the owl somehow form an unspoken understanding. The bond between them solidifies, and Belwick knows that this wise creature will be his trusted companion on his daring adventures ahead.
The owl, now his familiar, hoots softly. Belwick sags back into his chair, eyes brimming with tears. He wipes at them absently, then says, "Thank you, wise one. I appreciate you joining me."
The owl hops about and regards you. It starts to groom itself, seemingly unconcerned with being in the midst of a crowded room.
"Nice owl there Baron, I'm very impressed." Baghotir marvels at the summons, nay creation really.
Belwick stares at the owl as it grooms itself. He smiles.
He then looks to Baghotir. "No less impressive than the divine wonders you've shown us through your own god, Master Nightthane."
The owl tweaks their head to and fro.
On the day of departure, the party makes their way back to the docks, and finds a small boat that takes you all six hours up the coast to a simple weathered island, little more than a slab of rock in the surf. There's a simple dock and a couple of shacks on the rock, as well as a lighthouse. There you all are greeted by an enormous, barrel chested man with a friggin' huge red beard and a circlet of greying-redish hair on his balding head. He wears splint mail, and a gaudy red and gold kilt. A warhammer and dagger hang from his wide leather belt.
"Are ye the crew from The Adventurers' Guild? Issac sent ye? Let's get ye settled. We have a two-hour row in the morning to get to Abbey Isle."
"That we are! Nice to know there's a little hospitality on this trip. It's unexpected - I guess I wasn't paying attention at the briefing again!" Baghotir chuckles and follows the man onto the island.
Though he can swim now, he still prefers solid land under his feet.
Belwick steps onto the dock after Baghotir, also happy to be on firm footing. He holds out his arm and a second or two later the owl familiar swoops down and lands on in.
"I am Baron Belwick Donnamoor," he says, politely inclining his head. "I am looking forward to seeing the accommodations, and appreciate that this was set up in advance. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"
" Well met, masters, well met Baron Donnamoor. Major Ursa, at your service. Formerly of the Keoland Navy... Such as it is... More recently of The Mariners' Guild. I keep this here lighthouse over yonder these days. I'm to set you up on one o' The Guest houses there, and answer any questions you may have about Abbey Isle. Issac seems a good sort, but he doesn't have the knowledge to share. I do. This way, Lads and Lasses."
The Major leads you up the rock towards the lighthouse and the shacks at her base.
"We can go when you're ready. I assumed you'd want to stay the night here before making the journey and get a fresh start in the morning, but if you'd rather start now, it's nothing to me. We're about two hours by jollyboat to Skull Beach, the only suitable place to make landfall on Abbey Isle."
Inside one of the shacks, there is a simple stove and a number of very basic, but clean and serviceable pallets and some random furniture. The shack is a little chilly, but dry and clean. He pulls over a wooden chair to sit by the stove and he takes out a pipe, preparing to smoke it.
"Thank you Major. It's appreciated."
Baghotir will make himself comfortable, more than willing to leave with daybreak. Might as well leave themselves as much daylight as they can - especially if they're facing undead for whom darkness isn't a difficulty but a blessing.
"Let's rest for the night. No point in twisting an ankle in the dark." Caelius mentions as he motions for Major Ursa to lead the way to the guest house. "How big is the island Major. Any strong points of contention we should focus on or just the lighthouse?"
Belwick is content to let the warriors discuss terrain, tactics, and other plans with the major. But there is one thing that he asks. "What can you tell us of the dead who wander the place?"
"No lighthouse yet. We're hoping to build a new one once things are safe. There was only The Abbey, and I don't know much.
I can tell ye this: The Abbey stood on a reef-ringed rocky little island. The Isle is nearly two miles long and just under half that at the widest point if my numbers are correct. There is but one safe approach, and that is The Skull Dunes. The Clerics of The Abbey raised a friggin' army of walking skeletons to guard the beach. The Skellies lie under the sands, and attack anyone who comes near.
The Pirates got ashore--somehow. I take that to mean there's some path through the undead, but finding it is the problem. The Pirates sacked the Abbey and fled, but they'd taken as good as they gave. And that is when we hit them. The few pirates that escaped, we attacked and routed. Only one pirate vessel escaped, the others we sank. No survivors--the sea and the sharks took them all, so we have nothing first-hand. Mores the pity.
Beyond The Skull Dunes, in the center of the Isle was the Abbey, but we never got anywhere near. Smoke rose from the island for days after the attack, and the Abbey was no longer visible from sea. Maybe the island is abandoned. Maybe some of the clerics survived and are there, waiting to rebuild. I don't know. That, is why you've been hired."
"Fortune is with us, I'd say. We've got a ranger with us. If anyone can find a safe path through the dead, it's Venn," Belwick says, gesturing to their resident courser.
"Friends, I think I'll turn in for the night. Wake me when my turn for watch comes."
Baghotir rests comfortably. He hasn't had time to grow accustomed to a fancy feather bed as yet, and rather suspects he may pull that mattress off and snooze on a blanked and the wood planks.
Maybe a little straw too. Clean straw smells nice, and is easy to have changed regularly.
He rises early and prays for his daily power. He prays fervently for the success of the guild and guild mates. And for his fellows here readying to face the undead hoards.
"How big is this Abbey? Sounds much bigger than the lighthouse we were told about." Caelius continues to talk as he takes the first shift.
To Caelius: "Ah. Methinks Issac got some of his information crossed, or something got lost in the telling. No matter, I'll lay it out for ye: The Abbey is no longer standing. What was previously visible from off-shore is no longer there, and only a pillar of smoke remains. The smoke has died over the last few days, of course. There may have been bits of it that survived, but we don't know. And there are rumors of underground catacombs but that's all we have--rumors. The Lighthouse you've heard about is our plan for the island. If you and your band are successful, we'll build a new one here--the location is ideal."
You all have the benefits of a long rest, no watch needed, though you are free to set one. The night is quiet, the temperature mild--not too hot or too cold, but the humidity is high and sometime in the early morning rain starts to pour! The heavy water pelts the shack roof and makes an ungodly noise, waking everyone up earlier than you intended, but adequate for a night's sleep.
Major Ursa comes to you early wearing oiled skins to keep the weather off. He prepares a cold cereal for you all by placing what looks to be bricks of oats and grains in a bowl and pouring milk over the top. It's hearty and sustaining but not delicious.
Offering you each an oiled-skin cape and hat, he leads you to the boat and takes you to The Isle of The Abbey. Though the rain is heavy and obscures vision, he deeps the passage safe due to the lack of any real wind. Indeed the rain comes straight down in sheets.
Major Ursa rows you all to the southern tip of the island. Before you are The Skull Dunes. The beach is desolate--nothing but sand dunes and small, sickly patches of grass here and there. There is no sign of life. The dunes go on, north, for what you guess to be 150 yards.
"I'll drop you at the southern most tip of the isle. I'll not venture forth from there--now you go to work. I'll wait here and any time you need a rest or a ride back, I'll see to it. Unless you bring any skellies my way. I'll not tustle with The Dead."
Once he lands, he sets up a sort of small camp, flipping the boat and using it for shelter.
The Skull Dunes stretch out before you. The rain pelts you all without mercy.
"Thanks Major" Baghotir growls, displeased by the weather. He holds his shield over his head for a while, but it just runs down one side and into his collar at one point drenching him anyway. "Damn."
He takes out his hammer and readies his shield the right way. "They said undead on the beach. Shall we see what we can find?"
When the others are ready, he'll start up the beach.
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"A moment please," Belwick says, adjusting the oiled-skin hat atop his head. "I'd like to see if we can some eyes on the area first."
The wizard raises his arm and the the owl resting on it flaps its wings and takes flight.
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As per skack... Roll Hobarts Perception at +3. No advantage or disadvantage.
Hobart is a born hunter. He takes off, heedless of the heavy rain and circles the beach.
At one point, he dives down towards the sea, levelling off and snatching something out of the surf. He circles again and returns to you, dropping a fish with enormous, oversized jaws at Belwick's feet. It twitches and flips.
Hobart makes a futile attempt to shake himself dry and telepathically tells Belwick that several large schools of these fish circle the coast. He sees no other living or undead creatures on the beach. He has noticed bone markers left, some kind of trail. The placement of the bones looks like Humans did it. Hobart can lead if you tell him to.
Baghotir will wait for the scouting report before heading in, trying for the trail.
His weapons are out, and he's keeping his eyes open for skeletons to rise up out of the sand.
or
Belwick shares what he learned from Hobart. When Baghotir volunteers to lead he spares a quick glance at Venn before shrugging. "Lead on, Master Baghotir. I'll be right behind you."
, .
Baghotir leads the party through the dunes. Hobart the owl is right--there are makers left, intentional ones, that direct you along a trail that winds along, down and around dunes.
About halfway across the dunes, Baghotir and Hobart lose the trail.
Doing his best, Baghotir leads the party east and into the aftermath of a slaughter. The rain pummels the sands around the half-decayed corpses of 13 pirates--13! An unlucky numb---!
The sands erupt all around you. Hobart takes off, startled by something. A moment later, Belwick feels sickness in the pit of his stomach as necromantic magic surges, bringing him to his knees. The pirate bodies start pulling themselves out of the sands, shambling towards you. From the sands about, six skeletons emerge. They are armed with rusty blades or bows and encrusted with sand.
A battle begins...
Map updated in Roll 20. No terrain to speak of. Sight Perception checks are at disadvantage and terrain is difficult unless you're flying. LOTS of Targets on the field.
1. Embers GO
2. Venn GO
3. Alisanne GO
4. Hobart GO
5. Baghotir GO
6. Bimz GO
7. Belwick GO
8. Caelius Go
9. Zombies
10. Skeletons
Taciturn as always, Venn is quick to take action when it's time though. He's frustrated at the tactical situation, "This is fireball work. Anyone got one?"
He quickly cuts an angle to a close foe and tries to sweep his blade through the undead's midsection:
for
Venn scores a hit, but not a lethal one. Or a RE-lethal one...
The owl descends on one of the nearby zombies, wings flapping wildly. A split second later they take back to the sky, getting a safe distance away from undead hands.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Belwick conjures a flaming bolt. With an outstretched finger aimed at the same zombie he releases the magic.
OR
Alisanne plays a short cacophony of music, conjuring forth...
The smell of apple pie fills the air, and each creature in the cube must succeed on a Wis14 saving throw or become charmed by you until the start of your next turn.
Condition: None
- - -
"We should all tighten up!" Baghotir cries out as he moves to join the others. With his bonus action he'll cast Spiritual Weapon to at least start taking something out. He'll attack the one Venn wounded to try and finish it off.
"Damn. Gotta get the kinks out of this thing. Look, I'm gonna bring down the almighty power of God when they close in! Some will stay, some will flee for a minute. That way we can at least face them in waves, yeah?"
- - -
"Pick a corner and watch each others backs!" Caeliues heads off the northern group, trying to make sure he doesn't stray too far.
HP 40/40
AC 17 (+2 (19) w/ Shield) (14 w/o armor)
Short Rest Die 4/4
Action Surge 1/1
Superiority Die (D8; Disarming Attack, Sweeping Attack, Menacing Attack): 4/4
,
The Smell of fresh made, delicious apple pie wafts over the entire beach, though it is concentrated just SW of Alisanne as she uses song to summon the mischief of The Fairy Dragon King. Both zombies stop their shuffle and start searching for the source of the smell. The zombies yearn for something they can no longer have... And are Charmed by Alisanne.
Hobart aids his master, guiding his spell. (HIT)
Baghotir summons Clangeddin's Axes and takes a defensive position.
1. Embers GO
2. Venn HIT
3. Alisanne NATHAIR'S MISCHIEF
4. Hobart HELP
5. Baghotir READY, SPIRITUAL WEAPON
6. Bimz GO
7. Belwick FIRE BOLT, HIT
8. Caelius HIT
9. Zombies TBD
10. Skeletons TBD
Bimz stays close to Alisanne for the moment, waiting for her moment.
The undead pirates shamble and crawl, hampered by the dunes but driven by an insatiable hunger for the flesh of the living... Though two of them, charmed by the smell of warm apple pie merely search in vain for the source of the heavenly smell that echoes in their last remaining memory of life.
All but two zombies move and dash. Two of them are able to move and attack.
HIT for , the creature's unholy strength hitting Venn like a mace!
Baghotir's readied attack scores a brutal hit, carving dead flesh out of a bloated, rancid body.
The Skeletons all chatter, their jaws and bones clacking against rusty metal and petrified bone. They nock arrows and fire at the closest targets.
MISS
HIT
HIT
CRIT
MISS
MISS
Venn takes 17 Points of Piercing damage as he does his best to avoid the shots, and engage his targets in melee.
ROUND 2, Party up!
1. Embers GO
2. Venn GO
3. Alisanne GO
4. Hobart GO
5. Baghotir GO
6. Bimz GO
7. Belwick GO
8. Caelius GO
9. Zombies TBD
10. Skeletons TBD
Venn grits his teeth. His wound goes deeper than flesh as chastises himself for not noticing that the undead are armed with bows. He takes a swing at the same foe, hoping to drop it thus giving him an opening to regroup:
for
HIT and... The Zombie, "dies", a second death.
Drops of molasses hover in the cube, making it difficult terrain until the start of your next turn.
Alisanne carefully removes herself from the immediate reach of the undead, and calls out to Venn, Stand firm, Venn! We'll best these beasties yet.
Condition: Spiritual Axe (2/10r)
- - -
Baghotir worries about Venn, but figures the best way to help is to get there. "Bloody archers!" he bellows as he swings on the critter next to him.
He'll then use his bonus action to have the spiritual axe swing on the same. If it's down, the axe attacks a wounded or fresh one on Venn, in order of preference.
Caelius continues to hack at the undead, sweeping at the legs to try and slow them down. [ooc]Oh, to be a positive energy channel cleric in this fight."[/b]
HP 40/40
AC 17 (+2 (19) w/ Shield) (14 w/o armor)
Short Rest Die 4/4
Action Surge 1/1
Superiority Die (D8; Disarming Attack, Sweeping Attack, Menacing Attack): 4/4