Sledge enjoys sleeping. Sleep is good. Nice songs for resting better are nice too. What a restful night.
"Cunning I have but a beast I am not," Quinby sings as the scale around Garen's neck cracks.
"Though your friends still seem to be by my song caught."
She flashes her teeth in a wicked grin as she floats at the surface, treading water and beckoning Charles and Silvio to jump in.
DC 17
There is a commotion in the cabin as both Ewem and Walren startle awake. Quickly recognizing what is happening, Ewem begins his own, low, growling song. A consummate musician in his own right, the skald cannot help but fall into the same rhythmic and harmonic structures that Quinby has started. His gruff baritone drifts up from the cabin, stirring battle-readiness in the blood of his allies. Walren emerges from the cabin near the captivated Silvio.
Charles embraces the new baritone harmony as his face begins turning red with fury. He moves towards the edge of the boat and dives in to the water.
Roger's small head begins turning and twitching at the sound of the two songs blending together, his head matching the rhythms as his tiny fur on the back of his neck sticks up in fury.
Hearing the splash of water and feeling his master's emotions, Roger scurries up the stairs to join him for a swim.
The deck of the Black Mists is quickly becoming a scene from a horror show, with Charles and Roger both jumping into the water. Silvio manages to shake himself free from the captivation moments before he tips over the side of the boat. Ewem emerges from the cabin after hearing the splash, continues his singing and dives after the wizard and his familiar to make sure that they don't sink into the flowing river. Hearing Garen call on Iomedae, Captain Walren trods up the stairs and lays a hand on the paladin. "Be swift as a coursing river."
As Garen begins to run, water burbles up beneath his feet, speeding his strides and cresting up into the air to dive at the wicked fey creature in the water with savage speed. Iomedae and Gozreh's combined might guide Garen in a majestic, moonlit arc that ends as the paladin plunges his sword through the chest of the fey, whose song ends with a shriek before she falls silent beneath the surface of the river, washing away into the night.
It doesn't take long for Ewem to wrestle Charles and Roger back onto the boat, and Garen is able to return by gliding along the surface of the water on the same wave that carried him down. With some post-battle conferring over what had happened, the group is able to identify Quinby as having been a particularly nasty fey called a bog nixie, alluring aquatic creatures that seek to drown their prey.
Although Quinby was not a real gnome, the bag that she left behind appears to have been plenty real. Within is a small-sized masterwork light crossbow with 20 bolts, a small-sized masterwork short sword, and 153 gp worth of gold and precious gems. Whether these belonged to Quinby or one of her victims is unclear, but her ill-gotten gains are now the property of those who survived her dastardly drowning attempts.
"What did I say?" Walren says, shaking his head as he hands Charles a towel. "Mischievous, wicked fey. She seemed so nice, though, and I'm not one to leave a poor lass marooned."
Somehow, Sledge and Winter (and Garen's donkey) managed to sleep through the entire encounter, to be informed only when awoken for their respective watches later. Those watches are, blissfully, without incident. And so the night passes, and the sun rises on a new day without cunning fey aboard.
For his part, Ewem seems to be feeling better come the morning. It's easy for Silvio to determine that he's still suffering from some of the effects of the pebblefang poison and might need at least one more day to fully shake it.
Captain Walren confirms that the party will reach Crowstump by evening, with an opportunity to resupply and rest in proper beds instead of hammocks. He and Ewem seem to be on edge today, with extra care being taken to keep constant watches.
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”That’ll teach me not to detect evil.” he says to everyone after all are on board. ”Forgive me Charles, my oversight nearly got you killed.”
”That was an impressive spell Captain, thank you. I don’t think I would have made the jump without it.”
Garen stands the rest of his watch and then turns in. In the morning he goes through his standard prep. ”Gentlemen, we are in a race against unknown adversaries and we know not how far behind them. I think we need to press on.”
Silvio wakes up just in time to step away from the edge of the boat and see Garen's sword plunge into the evil fey. "I think you more than redeemed yourself, Garen. Good thing you were the one keeping watch with Quinby--or whatever her real name was." Silvio shakes his head. "She was so nice to Winter, too. I let my guard down. And that old doggy's still asleep!" As the excitement winds down, Silvio stumbles back to his slumber knowing that his shift would be up soon enough.
* * *
In the morning, Silvio tends to Ewem, letting the Captain know of the diagnosis so he can properly translate. Hopefully the recovery will be swift thanks to Charles's antivenom, and Silvio will continue to offer whatever assistance he can with the healing process.
"The trail we're following isn't that fresh, Garen. We should enjoy the town! Oh, not to mention someone in town might want to know about the shipwreck we passed, just in case it was someone they knew." This last part Silvio adds as an afterthought, as the halfling tries to appeal to Garen's strong sense of duty. Being trapped on the boat for so long has made Silvio a bit stir crazy.
Given the chance, Silvio will continue reading the book in the afternoon. It was a lot more exciting than the dry reading he had expected.
Silvio is far too engrossed in the plot of the book to glean anything further from its pages this day. Kelinahat and the Burleev have just stumbled into the bedchamber of Erecura, the Queen of Dis and wife of the archdevil Dispater, and the three are engaging in a battle of wits.
Silvio seems to convince Garen that stopping in Crowstump could be a worthwhile diversion.
Charles showers his appreciation upon Sir Garen and Sir Ewem for their valiant efforts at saving him and Roger from the bog nixie. "Turns out she could swim and sing at the same time!"
***
In terms of stopping at Crowstump, Charles has no particular opinion one way or the other. He's fine stopping by as it may give him a chance to pick up a few assorted alchemical items since it seems he may need to keep some antivenom on hand.
The Black Mist exits the mouth of the Tourondel River into Lake Encarthan proper, and Captain Walren quickly turns the ship's wheel hard to the right to begin maneuvering the ship south. The sun is low in the sky, and so it's difficult to see much, but it takes almost no time for the passengers to see the lights of Crowstump.
Crowstump is easily four times larger than Kassen and then some, being the northernmost lakeside town in all of Nirmathas and therefore being an open hub of trading. The town is a hub for Nirmathi trade far away from the risks of warfare faced by Tamran closer to the Molthuni border, and so on a market day the population likely swells even greater. There are multiple docks, and ample evidence of Lastwall or Mendevian Crusaders on some of the larger docked ships, their holy symbols and noble crests dotting the shields and breastplates of people from young to old, hopeful to battle-scarred. There are even a few saucy tarts or brazen strumpets hiking their skirts up for sailors making land, trying to lure them back to more comfortable climes for the evening.
Ewem looks at Walren and says a few words in a language none of the rest of you understand (but have begun to learn is Hallit). The dwarf laughs and sends Ewem on his merry way, which seems to be straight into a crowd of skirts. Walren looks at the rest of his crew. "I've some business to tend to in town. Tamran has more money, but Crowstump is safer by far. The best taverns in town are the Gilded Orc n' the Thirsty Owlbear. If'n I don' see ye t'rest o' the night, don' get in too much trouble. Don' get me worried er nothin' n' have to come lookin' fer ye, hear?"
With that, the captain walks over to a scrawny looking dock worker with a shaggy mess of hair, who can't even be a teenager yet by the looks of them and drops a small coin purse in the child's hands, leaving the party to their own devices.
Winter bounds off the boat in delight, clearly missing stable land. He quickly finds a post and decides to mark his new territory.
As Silvio steps off the boat, he seems to be in awe of the town. "Didn't expect this place to be so big," he mumbles, and suddenly he seems to have a little doubt about his earlier eagerness to come here. It felt like a foreign land to him. "Sure, let's find a tavern and sit down," he says, wanting to just follow Garen's lead.
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Garen wants to track down the local weaponsmiths to see who created the weapons they got off the fey or to see if any weapon smith recognizes them. "After we get a room, I'm going to seek out some weapon smiths to see if I can get these items identified. Perhaps the former owner had family." Garen says as they walk off the boat.
If the same dock boy is still present he aks, "Boy, where is the Thirsty Owlbear?" If the fellow is not there he will ask one of the sellers near the dock.
After checking in and getting a room Garen heads out on his errand hoping to catch the smiths before they close.
Charles follows the group in search of the tavern, hoping to get his bearings before trying to find the market and gathering some alchemical supplies.
The call of "Boy" seems to not register any recognition as Garen stares at the dockworker, before they get a curious look and point a finger at themselves. "I'm not a boy," the child says quietly, before shrugging. "But that's okay. Here!"
The dockworker produces a map of Crowstump with a few places marked on it. "We're here," she says, pointing to one of the northernmost docks. "If you walk up her towards Willow Keep, you'll be on Willow Way. Just follow that road straight and the Thirsty Owlbear will be on your right. If you get to the town square, you've gone too far."
The dockworker looks expectantly at Garen with an outstretched hand, smiling at her (hopefully) job-well-done.
---
There are several rooms available at the Thirsty Owlbear. It isn't the cheapest option in Crowstump, nor is it as ritzy as one might find in a larger city. But the young woman who greets you in the common area, her voice monotone and her expression a clear demonstration of wishing-she-were-elsewhere, informs you that most rooms go for 5 silver pieces per person, with meals included for an additional 3 silver pieces. An additional 2 silver per person gets the chef's special and paired drinks. The nice rooms are 2 gold a head, but a small suite of connected rooms can be had for 4 gold total. More specific food, drink, and other services (like the aforementioned baths) can be purchased separately.
The Thirsty Owlbear itself has a stuffed owlbear head prominently displayed above the bar along with its foreclaws. A halfling sits at a piano in the corner, tickling the ivories in a jaunty tune that mostly disappears into the din of the patrons clinking glasses, clattering wooden utensils on ceramic plates, and chattering over a haze of pipesmoke. The people in the bar seem to be a mix of some of the same that were seen at the docks: merchants, soldiers, and locals enjoying their favorite haunt.
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Garen flips her a gold piece before heading out.
When Garen goes looking about town he is trying to get the weapons identified to see if they were made by a local smith (masterwork weapons are not common). If he can find that smith he is hoping to identify the buyer and if they are local the location of their home. He intends to return the weapons to the man/woman's family, if they are here.
The dock girl's eyes glitter. She bites the gold piece lightly before adding it to the bag given by Walren, and then scampers off.
It takes Garen little time as he goes into the market district to home in on the telltale sounds of metal clanging against metal. The first blacksmith he stops in to see is a half-orc with one eye and a broken tusk. It is clear looking at the quality of his wares that he is a journeyman, and probably not the person that the paladin is seeking. But the smith asks to examine the crossbow and the short sword. After a few moments of admiration, he points to a small maker's mark on the stock of the bow and the hilt of the sword: a three-eyed crow. "That there's the mark of Tilmundigod. Three streets over; you'll see the same mark on his sign out front."
Garen follows the instructions to a shop practically shrouded in steam. There is a crowd around the store, which has an open display so that interested parties can observe the smith at work. Even from a block away, the oohs and aahs of the crowd thrum along as the master inside works. Sparks billow and fling as one of the onlookers faints, but they are swiftly revived and propped up to watch the finale. There is one last burst of pyrotechnics before a plume of smoke belches forth and envelops the whole block. Garen peers through the thick castoff to see what sort of the person this smith is and sees the burliest gnome he has ever laid eyes on swinging a hammer easily as large as he is. With a grin, the orange-headed gnome holds up his hands and bows to the applause of the crowd.
"That's all for today, kind Crowstumpers. Tilmundigod will return tomorrow. But feel free to come into the store and browse Tilmundigod's wares. Yes, yes, we're having a sale! Come one, come all!"
The crowd begins to disperse. Not many, unfortunately, seem keen to remain, aside from a few children who rush into the store and begin making a commotion. Now that the crowd is lifting, Garen can see the sign out front clearly. This is apparently who he was looking for.
Inside the store, the gnome has several racks of fine-looking weapons and suits of armor waiting to be browsed. Seeing Garen enter, he throws a switch and a series of whirring gears raises him and his counter up to be nearly eye-level with the paladin. "A customer!" he exclaims with a booming voice belying his small stature. "How can Tilmundigod be of service, mmm?"
Delighting in the thought of the chef's special, Charles' stomach growls in anticipation. "Everyone is at their best with good food," he proclaims as he pays up front for the good meals. He also tips a little extra for some fresh fish with each meal.
Charles heads out, with Roger snuggled up warmly in his shirt's side pocket, in search of alchemical supplies. Upon finding a good supplier, he purchases enough to make 3 potions of antivenom. Deciding they probably won't run into any more goldpebbles, he gets supplies to cover a wide range of venomous snakes and spiders. "Not as beneficial as a specially prepared drought," he informs the alchemist shopkeeper. "But always a good thing to have on hand when heading into the unknown."
He grabs a variety of other items as well, eager to restock his supplies as he left most of his preserved ingredients back in Kassen.
On the way back to the Thirsty Owlbear, Roger perks up at the smell of fresh fish as they pass by the market and eagerly peers out of the pocket at all of stalls they pass. Charles picks up a small, fresh fish from an older gentlemen. The man scowls a bit as Roger climbs out of Charles' pocket and grabs the fish and begins munching on it as he climbs back in the pocket. "Oh no you don't," Charles begins to scold. "I didn't bring enough changes of clothes to have you get this smelling like that." So he holds Roger in the crook of his arm as he walks the rest of the way back to the tavern, much to the delight of the few children they pass.
Silvio and Winter agree to reunite with the rest of the group at the Thirsty Owlbear. Unsure of what else to do, Silvio decides to go in search of a place to pray. Perhaps there was a shrine to Erastil in town? Or some other suitably aligned deity? It hadn't been part of his original plan, but perhaps he could make a mini-pilgrimage out of this visit.
The gnome pulls out a pair of bottle-thick spectacles that magnify his eyes to enormous proportions and looks over the weapons that Garen presents to him. "Yes, yes, Tilmundigod made these. Practically still new, they are! Might have fired the crossbow once did the owner, and the blade has barely left its scabbard! Oh, what a shame. One moment, please." He hops off from his elevated contraption and shuffles over to a bookshelf, from which he pulls out a large leather-bound book. Garen can see that the label on the spine, hand-written in ink, has a date about seven years ago on the upper side, but not on the lower side. Tilmundigod ambles back over and hops back up with the book, thudding it onto the counter and flipping through pages filled with ledgers until he arrives at a mostly blank page. He scans his finger along the dried ink until he finds the line he's looking for. "Not everyone tells Tilmundigod their name or their business, of course, but the record of sales always tells a tale. This was about three months past. A funny fellow--a halfling wearing white robes and an iron mask comes in with a large bag of gold and purchases these two items. Tilmundigod can't tell you more than that, though. It's too bad he came to harm without much use."
The gnome nods solemnly. "It's good of you to try to track the fellow down, though! Tilmundigod will buy the items back from you if you like. They're still practically new and deserve to be backc in good hands. They're a bit too small for you, sir knight, buuuut--" Tilmundigod smiles and lets a small flurry of sparks dance from his hands, "--there are plenty of other wares just your size, sir knight!"
---
The young, dour-faced woman blandly informs Charles that the chef's special for the evening will be a creamy wild mushroom risotto topped with a seared chicken thigh and paired with a viognier. The only time that the young woman's expression changes is when Charles asks what fresh fish will best pair with the dinner. The blood seems to rush out of her face and she excuses herself for a moment before returning with a woman that looks just like her but with a few more worry lines, stray gray hair, and a faux-cheerful service disposition to supplant her daughter's irritating apathy. "Halibut," she says with a smile. "Pan roasted in the same viognier with fresh thyme. For the discerning customer!"
The proprietor of the apothecary where Charles finds good alchemical supplies is a wizened elf with skin vaguely the appearance of the cobblestones surrounding the streets. She arches a long gray eyebrow before disappearing to the back of her store. She returns with a few vials to Charles' specifications, helping him navigate the shelves of her store while engaging in pleasant, clearly-informed conversation about magical supplies. Were it not for the extra bag that she provides too facilitate the carrying, Charles might leave the store with his arms fully laden.
---
Silvio and Winter don't have to travel far from the ship to find the local temple of Erastil, Willow Keep. As with most churches to Old Deadeye, it is a simple wooden building near the tree line. Upon entering, Silvio sees a tall human woman in a modest green dress currently walking around the sanctuary and checking on a few of the parishioners who are currently praying. She sees Silvio walk in with his dog and strides over to them. "Welcome, brother," she says, extending a hand down (and bending her knees ever so slightly). "I am Sister Gorma Narrin. Welcome to Willow Keep. I have a pot of potato soup cooking if your belly needs filling."
Silvio takes in the sanctuary as he and Winter walk in. As the human woman approaches and offers a hand, Silvio reaches up and returns the handshake. "Thank you, Sister Gorma. I'm Silvio, and this is Winter. I guess I might pass as a Brother back in Kassen?" He muses on the thought, the name felt right.
"I'm guess I'm supposed to meet my traveling companions at the Thirsty Owlbear," he begins as he is offered food, but Silvio's stomach growls in protest. "Maybe just a bite after I pray?"
Concluding any small talk, Silvio finds a spot to set his things down and take off his shoes (he does, in fact, wear shoes). He tells Winter to stay and enters the sanctuary to join the parishioners in prayer. Following the rites and routines he learned as just a young boy helps relieve his anxiety, as he feels centered and more oriented in this foreign town. He concludes his prayers to Erastil with more personal requests for blessing on his shaken town and the party's journeys.
He reunites with Winter and sits down for some food and fellowship with Sister Gorma. "Do you know Father Prasst? He's new to Kassen, but it's nice to have someone young lead the church." Being young himself, he could relate better to Prasst.
"Kassen has been through some hardship," he notes, as he recounts a little of the misfortune that has befallen the town. "Father Prasst has been a pillar for Kassen, but it might be good for the church to check on him when there's an opportunity."
After recounting the needs of his town, he offers some help of his own. "Is there anything you or this Sanctuary needs? We're continuing our travels tomorrow, but I hope to return this way before heading home."
"All are welcome in Erastil's home, and all are part of the Elk Father's flock," Sister Gorma responds. "Welcome to you and Winter both."
When Silvio joins the parishioners for a bite to eat, he notices that many of the people in here are in worn-out clothing, full of holes, and have otherwise unkempt appearances. If he's not mistaken, the people may not have permanent residences. They gobble the soup up hungrily, but the hall is filled too with the sounds of conversation and chuckles.
When Silvio asks Sister Gorma a few questions, she responds, her demeanor gentle.
"I don't know a Prasst, I'm afraid, at least not by name. But our nation's capital has a larger church than we do here, so someone there may know him. Or at least, I hope so. I have heard that even they are struggling in light of the new church taking root in Tamran."
She also listens to Silvio's tale of Kassen's difficulty. "These are dark times for us all," she concurs. "It is difficult for me to leave my flock untended. I would lend Kassen and Father Prasst my aid if I could."
As the halfling offers aid, Sister Gorma nods and smiles, showing the slightest wrinkles around her eyes. "If Erastil has blessed you with anything that you care to pass on to my flock, your gifts are welcome here," she acknowledges.
Silvio realizes that this particular sanctuary is dedicated to doing Erastil's work in strengthening the community. "It's an honor to do so," he responds, collecting some coins of value (amounting to 10gp) and placing them in the offering box. "Is there anyone who needs healing? I'd be glad to help before going on my way."
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"Hmmm, ahmmm, well you seem a good fellow. Tilmundigod thinks that would be reasonable. How about...we call it 400 gold even for the both?"
---
Silvio finds a few people with scrapes and bruises, whose aches are duly soothed. As he leaves the temple door, he feels the swell of community within his very bones.
Silvio and Winter make their way to the Thirsty Owlbear. Feeling the glow from his time in the Sanctuary of Erastil, Silvio finds that the town doesn't seem as disorienting as before. He enters and looks around for his companions.
The evening in Crowstump passes by in calm safety as the young Kassenites sleep in soft beds. They awaken to the smells of a kitchen at work. When they make their way to the common area, they are ushered to a corner where a few other battle-hardened looking folks are seated: mostly Nirmathi rangers and Lastwall crusaders by the look of them, with a handful of stereotypical adventurers. The corner is filled with the sounds of vambraces scraping and clacking against the wooden tables as armored men and women eat their breakfasts, discussing the events of the previous night and their plans for the day. None of it is tactical--who knows where Molthuni spies might be hiding--but it's easy to figure out that the military types are, almost down to a one, preparing for another deployment. With the recent events in Kassen at the front of mind, it might be easy to forget the conflicts going on elsewhere in the world, much less in the same country.
And yet these soldiers also appear to be some of the better-paying customers. Whereas outside of the corner is a common area where people are mostly getting pieces of fresh bread for their breakfast, the extra meal also includes smoked salmon, a sample of three different cheeses (two hard and one soft, all pairing effectively with the salmon and herbs in different ways), poached eggs, fresh figs, and a glass of lightly chilled white wine. Even Winter and Roger are provided with a version of this meal more apt for animal consumption in bowls of appropriate size. As the party had also paid for lunches, they receive a sandwich piled with cured meats, topped with provolone, and spread with a diced paste of pickled vegetables. Winter is sent on his way with a sturdy bone, and Roger a couple of chicken feet that the chef hadn't used.
The party finds their way back to the dock with no difficulty and see Ewem already at work hauling a few boxes from the dock to the boat's storage. He seems to have made a full recovery by this morning, thanks in no small part to the party's actions. He smiles when he sees you and gives a thumbs up. Captain Walren is doing some stretches on the upper deck when he sees the group approach. "Mornin'! Looks like no trouble found ye in Crowstump. Ready to shove off? It's three more days to Tamran sailin' 'long the coast of Lake Encarthan."
Both men decline the offer of extra gold when Garen brings bags around (although Ewem only declines after Walren indicates his own lack of interest). "Kind of ye, but consider it yer reward fer a job well done with the fey girl. I won' pay ye otherwise except'n bad cookin'."
Charles is anxious to pick back up on his reading of The Dark and The Light that morning and greets Captain Walren and Ewem enthusiastically when they get to the boat. The delectable food will have him in a good mood for days. Roger, for his part, seems far more energetic than normal as well, perched up on Charles' shoulder taking in the sights, sounds, and smells.
Silvio and Winter are grateful for a fine meal, even if Silvio feels a little bit guilty about such luxury given what he'd just seen at the Sanctuary. He also appreciates sleeping in a bed rather than a swinging hammock!
* * *
"Glad you're feeling better, Ewem. It's been a rough few days for sure." Silvio offers what help he can in moving boxes aboard, though he's not nearly as strong. Otherwise, it's back to the routine, followed by some afternoon reading.
Ewem nods to Silvio at hearing his name. He seems to search the halfling's face for a moment as he recognizes some sort of sympathy and gladness, and once again gives a thumbs up. At one point while working together moving the boxes, Ewem gets a grin on his face and tries to catch Silvio's attention. He points at him, raises his eyebrows, and then makes a backwards motion with his thumb, accompanying his motions with narration that Silvio cannot understand. Then he engages in a ridiculous sounding falsetto mimicry of the nixie's song that had entranced Silvio two nights previous, after which he tries to take on a mimicry of Silvio's countenance in the moment: a dumbfounded, vacant expression. He laughs and gives a genteel clap to Silvio's shoulder. Even though they might not be able to verbally understand each other, it seems like Ewem has taken a shine to the party after being saved and saving each other respectively.
---
Having left the Toroundel River and entered Lake Encarthan, Captain Walren keeps the Black Mist to within about a mile of shore. Now and then, he or Ewem spot sandbars or rock outcroppings along the way and navigate around them. As the day goes on, the skies darken and it begins to rain. Sometime in the afternoon (or you assume it is the afternoon given the lack of the sun in the sky to give a better indication of the time), the boat sudden lurches. Ewem and Walren immediately begin chattering, and quickly realize that, with the limited visibility they had missed a sandbar.
The dwarven captain looks over the side of his boat and clicks his tongue against his teeth. Given the flotsam floating around, the Black Mist is likely not the only vessel to have made this mistake here. "Run aground. Well, we'll need a few good hands to push us off'n check for hull damage. The Black Mist is strong, but no ship is impervious. Help us out, eh, lads?"
Ewem has already leapt off the ship and is busy assessing the hull for visible damage. He waves the rest of you down.
"Erastil will help us, as long as we work together."
Silvio prays and hands out Erastil's blessing to himself, Charles, Walden, and Ewem.
And then he pushes!
"No point in going in unprepared this time!" Charles says as he strips off his outer shirt and sets Roger and his items aside. He then begins casting. "Plivati kao vidra!" he declares as he sprinkles some brown fur upon his arms in a sweeping motion as his finger begin to elongate and grow some webbing between them.
Next he begins chanting, "Virtute in virtutem, ut te opprimere adversarius!" and he sprinkles black hair onto his arms, then dives over the side of the boat into the water. He carefully swims over to the sandbar and comes up to assist with a mighty shove.
As the men begin to push, Ewem raises his voice to stir everyone's muscles.
It's overall not the most inspiring push from everyone, and the wizard of all people ends up looking the strongest but a sizable margin. Everyone is sufficiently busy with the rigor that they don't notice the danger lying in wait. One of the pieces of flotsam, which looks like a capsized boat, suddenly launches into the air accompanied by a mighty roar. Under ordinary circumstancs, Silvio might feel stunned by the sudden appearance of an enemy, but he feels somehow emboldened as he stands next to the paladin. Charles and Sledge, however, feel the curdling of fear shake them. Turning around, they see the source of the racket: an enormous green creature with clawed hands and a hideous, tusked underbite surging forth from the water.
Garen: 47/47, inspired rage
Sledge 37/37, shaken 2 rd, inspired rage
Charles: 35/35, shaken 1 rd, inspired rage
Roger: 17/17
Ewem: inspired rage
Enemy
Silvio: 36/36, inspired rage
Winter: 36/36
Walren
Map
Rain reduces visibility ranges by half, resulting in a –4 penalty on Perception checks. It has the same effect on flames, ranged weapon attacks, and Perception checks as severe wind.
In addition to automatically extinguishing any unprotected flames, winds of this magnitude cause protected flames (such as those of lanterns) to dance wildly and have a 50% chance of extinguishing these lights. Ranged weapon attacks and Perception checks are at a –4 penalty. This is the velocity of wind produced by a gust of wind spell.
Affected allies gain a +2 morale bonus to Strength and Constitution and a +1 morale bonus on Will saving throws, but also take a –1 penalty to AC. While under the effects of inspired rage, allies other than the skald cannot use any Charisma-, Dexterity-, or Intelligence-based skills (except Acrobatics, Fly, Intimidate, and Ride) or any ability that requires patience or concentration.
Charles feels his anger flare much more quicly than normal and forces himself to shake off the effects of Ewem's song to clear his head despite the adrenalin flooding his system in terror at the sight of the creature. He tries analyzing the situation to calm himself down. What in the world is that thing?
Squaring himself up, Charles faces the creature even as his nerves jitter and his hands shake from the scare. He pulls back his right hand and throws a punch that extends beyond himself as a translucent blue fist flies from his hand towards the green creature.
Ranged touch
Bludgeoning damage
Charles feels like, were it not for the fear prickling at his heart, he might recognize what this creature was.
As Garen scrambles up onto the boat, Charles draws first blood on the watery giant. His translucent blue fist cascades through the rain and smacks into the creature's face. It roars once again in response as it starts moving towards the wizard.
Sledge turns around and sees the creature surging out of the water.
"A scrag," he says. "Like an underwater troll. It'll regenerate unless we burn it with acid or fire. I'll try to knock it out when it comes close."
Sledge prepares to cast color spray when the scrag comes within range of the party, not as far out as possible, but before it has a chance to injure anyone, preferably where they can all attack it while it is incapacitated.
Hearing the plan, Captain Walren shouts something at Ewem, who turns around and waits.
The scrag hurls itself forward, half swimming and half charging, its claws ready to rend flesh. As its claws wrench from the water, Charles notices that the bruised area where his telekinetic fist impacted smooths out, no doubt because of the regeneration that Sledge had mentioned. But before the scrag can carve into the magus, Sledge unleashes a con of clashing colors to encompass the troll.
With a roar, the scrag completes its charge and Sledge barely gets out "Oh f-" before a claw rakes across his chest .
Seeing that the opening gambit had failed, Ewem roars and charges across the sand, drawing his warhammer and preparing to swing. The scrag's other claw swipes out as the skald swings into range. Ewem brings his hammer up in both hands and blocks the claw, though this prevents him from getting in a solid blow of his own. The group gets the distinct impression of just how tall Ewem is as he stands in the scrag's face. The scrag is still nearly twice his size, even hunched, but the Kellid man stands defiant.
Garen: 47/47
Charles: 35/35
Roger: 17/17
Sledge: 26/37, shaken 1 rd
Scrag
Ewem: inspired rage rd 2, charge (AC -3)
Silvio: 36/36, inspired rage?
Winter: 36/36
Walren
Map
Silvio keeps his light armor, dagger, and sling-staff with him ever since the first misadventure with the goldpebble. He's not exactly sure how to get to the beast, which clearly has a long reach. So he pops out a wand and Blesses the party in Erastil's name, then moves forward.
Winter boldly attempts to leap downward.
He fails and falls, injuring himself. .
He spends some time getting back on his feet.
From the upper deck, Captain Walren waves his hands while reaching out to the clouds above. A facsimile of one of those storm clouds crackles into existence near the scrag and sends visible arcs towards the aquatic troll. The scrag has no hope of escaping the bolt. It roars as the metallic smell of ozone joins with the earthy brine of the lakewater, .
Garen: 47/47
Charles: 35/35
Roger: 17/17
Sledge: 26/37, shaken 1 rd
Scrag: -9
Ewem: inspired rage rd 2, charge (AC -3)
Silvio: 36/36
Winter: 34/36, inspired rage
Walren: aggressive thundercloud rd 1
Map