With nearly everyone being between him and the scrag, Charles' nerves calm down and he is able to think clearly. "Ah, a scrag! Roger, grab an acid flask from the pack!"
Roger dutifully darts over to where Charles discarded his bag before jumping in the water and slips through the flap on the top and pulls a small flask of acid from its compartment.
Charles stands his ground, safely behind a wall of a defenders mind you, and begins casting. Ti si bulestan! He wipes his hand across his forehead with a dramatic gesture, gathering sweat from their effort at pushing the boat, and flings it towards the monstrous creature as he finishes his spell.
"Ow." Sledge mutters to himself. He desperately wished that he had learned Truestrike. Next time he was in town he'd have to pick it up.
Stepping forward, he tries to grab onto the scrag, so that he might haul it onto the land.
Not his best work.
"Just because you wrestled Asar doesn't mean you can wrestle everything!"
Sledge had studied some grappling techniques, but is unfortunately unable to manage to gain any good hold of the scrag in the rain as he steps into the water-laden edge of the sandbar. Charles' sickening ray sails past the green monster, while Garen jumps back onto the sand with a thud.
The scrag focuses its ire on the little man that just tried to grapple it, raising its claws and snarling jaws to rip and tear.
Sledge ducks under the scrag's jaws, but the aquatic troll digs both of its claws into the magus and rends him There is too much blood to see what the nature of that last injury was, but it can't have been good. Sledge falls into the surf, and some of the electrical burns dappling the scrag's skin begin to mend.
Ewem roars in response, his song continuing as lightning flashes overhead, and swings his hammer. If the skald could only eke past the scrag's defenses, it would have been a palpable hit, as good or better than the troll's. Unfortunately his hammer does little more than kick up sand as he rages against the beast before him.
Garen: 47/47
Charles: 35/35
Roger: 17/17
Sledge: -2/37, dying
Scrag: -4, regeneration active
Ewem: inspired rage rd 3
Silvio: 36/36
Winter: 34/36, inspired rage
Walren: aggressive thundercloud rd 1
Map
Active Effects: Bless
"Sledge, no!" Silvio fears for his fallen frenemy.
With determination, he draws his dagger, steps forward, and strikes the scrag, backed by the power of Erastil.
;
Winter enters a rage as his packmate falls! He bounds forward (probably drawing an AOO) and bites with all his fury!
;
The halfling's dagger strikes true in the scrag's leg. Winter dives protectively over Sledge, avoiding a claw swipe but failing to deliver his own toothy justice. The crackling cloud around the scrag gives off some new bolts, but these fail to strike the troll as it twists away. But then, on the deck of the Black Mist, Captain Walren reaches his hands out towards the sea itself. Tendrils of seaweed and algae fronds surge up and begin to wrap around the scrag.
Garen: 47/47 (3 NL), bless, smite
Charles: 35/35, bull's strength, bless
Roger: 17/17, holding acid flask, bless
Sledge: -2/37, dying (make a stabilize check)
Scrag: -12, regeneration active, entangled
Ewem: inspired rage rd 3, bless
Silvio: 36/36, bless, divine favor, overprotective
Winter: 36/36 (2 NL), inspired rage, bless
Walren: aggressive thundercloud rd 2, bless
Map
Seeing Sledge go down, Charles quickly tells Roger to "Wait!" and steps forward, grabbing sledge by his shoulders and pulling him up to dry land. He quickly removes his own fabric belt and uses it to apply pressure to the worst of the wounds from the scrag.
Charles pulls the bleeding magus out from the water, seeing the young man's shoulder nearly separated from the rest of his torso, and ties the wound so that the blood stops seeping out. Then the paladin, paragon of goodness and light, delivers a powerful blow to the troll. Even as his blade carves in, the scrag's flesh begins to knit back together.
For its part, now wrapped in seaweed, the scrag shows no sign that it is ready to back down or retreat. It reaches out to try to attack the paladin so intent on slaying it, but Garen dodges out of the way of both claws, glowing with his goddess' light. But before Garen can get too far away, the scrag snaps its jaws down and clenches around the paladin.
Ewem tries to take that distracting moment to swing his hammer at the scrag, but the troll knocks the blow aside, its fangs dripping blood. The cloud surrounding the scrag lets loose another bolt, giving the air a small of rank, burnt flesh. As his spells continue to wreak havoc on the scrag, Captain Walren hops on a ballista on the side of the ship and begins winching up an enormous bolt. "Keep going, men! We'll take 'im down come hell or highwater!"
Silvio: 36/36, bless, divine favor, overprotective
Winter: 36/36 (2 NL), inspired rage, bless
Garen: 37/47 (3 NL), bless, smite (AC 19)
Charles: 35/35, bull's strength, bless
Roger: 17/17, holding acid flask, bless
Sledge: -3/37, stable
Scrag: -25, regeneration active, entangled
Ewem: inspired rage rd 4, bless
Walren: aggressive thundercloud rd 3, bless, loading bolt rd 1
Map
Silvio is heartened as Walren appears to be preparing a ballista! He lets rage take over, striking alongside Winter.
;
;
Garen and Silvio both offer palpable injuries to the scrag, though Winter's bite is unable to get through the tangled seaweed to trollflesh.
Silvio: 36/36, bless, divine favor, overprotective
Winter: 36/36 (2 NL), inspired rage, bless
Garen: 37/47 (3 NL), bless, smite (AC 19)
Charles: 35/35, bull's strength, bless
Roger: 17/17, holding acid flask, bless
Sledge: -3/37, stable
Scrag: -49, regeneration active, entangled
Ewem: inspired rage rd 4, bless
Walren: aggressive thundercloud rd 3, bless, loading bolt rd 1
Map
Seeing that the young man is out of immediate danger, he turns and calls out, "Roger! Drop the flask and go get another just like it!" Charles makes a move to catch the dropped flask of acid then turns and hurls it towards the scrag.
The weasel lifts the flask of acid and drops it into Charles' waiting hand. The wizard then lobs the flask through the air. The scrag sees it coming, seeming to understand what is about to happen, and strains against the seaweed. But the flask crashes into his face, shattering and sending the burning contents all over his skin. He roars, now in a pain altogether different than that of mere blades. His flailing claw, trying to stop the wizard from throwing the flask at close range, fails to make any impact.
Seeing the paladin as his greatest threat, the scrag continues his efforts to kill the holy warrior. Garen manages to deflect one oversized claw but catches the other square in his chest. The scrag follows that up off with a nasty bite . Ewem surges in with a bellow and finally cracks his warhammer into the scrag's chest, nearly caving it in with the effort . And the aggressive thundercloud rumbles once more, letting out a its largest bolt yet , which courses through the scrag's skull. It shudders for a moment at the massive amount of pain it has experienced over the last few seconds, and collapses into the surf as the seaweed claims it. The thundercloud dissipates with one last crack.
Peeking over the ballista, Captain Walren finishes winching the large bolt in place and swings it down to aim. "Is it dead?" he shouts over the rain.
Silvio: 36/36, inspired rage, bless, divine favor, overprotective
Winter: 36/36 (2 NL), inspired rage, bless
Garen: 14/47 (3 NL), inspired rage, bless, smite (AC 18)
Charles: 35/35, animal aspect (otter), bull's strength, bless
Roger: 17/17, bless
Sledge: -3/37, stable
Scrag: -85, regeneration inactive, entangled, unconscious
Ewem: inspired rage rd 5, bless
Walren: ballista ready to fire
Map
Roger goes and grabs a second acid flask from the same compartment of Charles' backpack. This time though, Charles stretches up the side of the boat a bit, placing his foot on a solid section, and is able to focus a bit more on the descending flask.
"Stay up there for now, Roger," Charles orders as he drops a couple of feet back to the sand with the flask in hand. With another thought he adds, "Actually, go grab one of the pints of oil!"
To the captain he adds, "That one may be a bit too big for him, but may come in handy down here. Roger will show you the right one."
Silvio quickly helps Garen drag the troll creature onto dry land.
Winter tears relentlessly at the limb of the fallen troll.
Garen calls on his goddess to heal his wounds while he, Charles, and Silvio drag the scrag out of the water. Winter jumps on the scrag and rips its throat out. Surely that must have killed it. But a moment later, all of the men standing around the giant watch as its neck begins to knit itself back together. Its eyes open right before the ballista bolt skewers its chest. Ewem steps up and brings his hammer down on the scrag's already-unsightly face. Once he is done, there is little face left, and most of it is scattered around on the sand.
To be on the safe side, Captain Walren follows Charles' recommendation and brings a pot of oil around. Shielding the body from the rainwater to ensure that it might still be set ablaze, the wizard renders the troll's body to ash.
Given the benefit of time, it doesn't take much for all of you (especially once Sledge is revived) to muster up the coordination to move the Black Mist off the sand bar. The damage is minimal, and Ewem is able to patch it up with no difficulty. Before long the ship is ready to continue sailing. There is admittedly extra wariness as they journey continues, with the Captain moving even further away from the shore.
As soon as the scrag is on dry land, ready to be slain, Silvio heals Sledge.
Then helps him up to his feet. "You see, Sledge, it's a lot harder when you have to fight something bigger than yourself!"
He also favors Garen with some healing.
Or at least he tried.
He offers some long term care to help Garen and Sledge with their recovery.
"Ugh. 5 more minutes," Sledge says as Silvo magically siphons the blood back into his body. Then he looks around. "Oh. Oh." He cracks his fingers and then winces at the result. "Haven't been downed that badly since that skeleton shot me right after Asar. He eyes Garen, then looks at himself.
[b]"Me," he says, seemingly deciding something, and then Sledge does something rather remarkable; his hand glowing with a light not unlike the energy Silvo and Garen use, he casts CLW on himself.
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Silvio and Garen call on Erastil and Iomedae respectively to mend the wounds of the two heavily injured members of their party. And then Sledge calls on something to heal himself.
This is notable in the eyes of both of Sledge's long(ish)-time companions/frenemies/acquaintances, along with the elder newcomer wizard. To all of their knowledge, Sledge was a practitioner of the arcane arts--one of study, specifically. It didn't take mastery of magical knowledge to understand what was odd about Sledge's actions, merely a modicum of facility with spellcasting. The work of channeling positive energy was typically understood to be most feasible in the hands of a divine conduit. Wizards could work wonders, but for reasons debated across arcane colleges across Golarion, their connection to the Plane of Positive Energy was almost universally insufficient to affect magical healing. (At least without killing the recipient in the process, their body rent asunder by the sheer influx of raw energy.) The Negative Energy Plane seemed to open its shadowy arms more readily for necromancers, but that was of little benefit to practitioners traveling with living companions.
Certain famous wizards of the storied pages of history (Arazni, Geb, Nex, and even Tar-Baphon himself before his descendancy into lichdom) had certainly figured out workarounds to this bump on the road to regional domination. Some of their methods were still taught at schools of arcane knowledge. The most common among these still involved some sort of divine conduit: namely the blood of celestials or fiends, to open the targeted link to the Positive Energy Plane. And yet these were a far cry from the direct links demonstrated by Garen and Silvio. Both required obvious ingredients and left clear signs of their use, detectable as metaphysical energy associated with the home planes of their ingredients' original possessors.
The newer science of alchemy had provided a way to mend wounds in a pseudo-magical way--healing in a bottle!--but this yet again had clear ingredients. A dubious salesman could peddle his wares as the work of the gods. But even peasants seemed to understand that alchemy was just different than divine healing magic. They even felt different, as those who had benefited from both could attest.
There were primal means of healing as well. Scholars believed that druidic magic--a true secret maintained by those odd tree-huggers out in the forest--could reach the Positive Energy Plane using the First World as a buffer, given their strong associations with the fey. Witches, ever mysterious, had patrons not entirely unlike deities, and very few people (including the witches themselves) necessarily understood exactly how their magic worked. Even the more occult magic of bards enabled healing magic, possibly through some resonance difficult for a wizard to replicate without serious cross-training.
But that was the problem with Sledge's actions. He was a wizard. He had brandished no holy symbol, produced no material component, exhibited no affinity for the fey, communed with no patron, and sung no songs. And yet...his wounds healed.
How?
Charles hadn't really been paying a great deal of attention to getting the healing process since he had contributed about all he could to that with some simple woodsman knowledge he had picked up over the years. But seeing Sledge's hand glow out of the corner of his eye had him raising his eyebrow and coming over to investigate. "Now that is extremely interesting, Master Sledge, and highly remarkable. Holgast never mentioned that you had found a talent for healing!"
Sensing a possible conspiracy in place, he adds excitedly, "Or is this something that even old Holgast doesn't now yet?" He rubs his hands together eager for more information.
"It is... a recent development." Sledge admits. "I don't believe that Holgast is aware." Sledge smiles grimly. "I hope to be able to use it as 'proof' that I have been blessed by Razmir." Dusting off his shoulder he continues to speak to the wizard, "You're welcome to look at the equations I've written for it in my book, and I'll even provide the cipher to decode them, but I make no guarantee about replicability."
He sighs heavily. "Perhaps this is why I have yet to achieve magic of the second circle. Something about my magical signature allows for unique effects like this, and yet I cannot master even a simple spell like see invisibility!" At this he stops. "Wait a second. Charles, Hideous Laughter is a second tier spell for a wizard, isn't it? But I can cast that even though I can't use blur. Any thoughts on the matter?"
"You sly fellow," Silvio manages to add in response to Sledge. "You sure you aren't already working for Razmir?" Silvio is joking of course. Mostly. At least he's still treating Sledge's wounds.
.
Pontifications on the nature of magic go as far as the individual members of the party are willing to take them as the Black Mist gets underway once more. After the troll trouble, the rest of the day is blessedly uneventful, giving ample time to read and see to the remaining wounds. Dinner is, for better or worse, goldpebble stew. Ewem in particular seems to relish scarfing down bits of the creature that had nearly eaten him days before. The taste, however, leaves something to be desired, especially after some of the more sumptuous meals in Crowstump.
The second day on Lake Encarthan proper, and the fifth day of six on the journey from Kassen to Tamran, is just as gray as the day before. The crew has settled into a good rhythm of knowing what needs to be done and when, and eyes are well-peeled for further signs of danger.
The crew is preparing to sit down for dinner when Charles spots a curious sight on a part of the shore that juts out into the Lake. There are half a dozen turtle-like creatures hunched over in a near-frozen tableau on the shore, complete with beaked mouths, back shells and webbed hands and feet. The greatest difference visible between these creatures and a typical turtle is the depression atop each of their heads.
In the evening, Silvio gives thanks to Erastil for enduring another trial, even as he eats some goldpebble stew. The river journey had been an adventure, but each trial survived seemed to make them stronger. Though he still looks at Sledge askance given his newfound power of wizardly healing.
Sometime during the day, Silvio manages to read his book once more.
In the afternoon, Silvio spots the creatures, but certainly can't recognize their sub-species. "Look, turtles!" he says simply. He seems content to admire them for the moment.
Other than reading the book in the mornings and helping out on the ship, Charles aims to do a bit of crafting. He and Roger sit down in their quarters and he pulls out his portable kit and begins mixing together some of his ingredients. Thankfully, the materials needed to create more acid don't need to be heated. The mixing actually creates a small amount of heat, but nothing he is uncomfortable with doing on the wooden ship.
Spotting the strange turtle creatures, Charles calls out and let's everyone know something is up ahead.
Charles let's everyone know what is up ahead and what, if any, danger they may expect.
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When Silvio had last picked up The Dark and the Light, Kelinahat and her Burleev companion had just stumbled into the bedchamber of Erecura, Queen of Dis (the second layer of Hell) and wife of the archdevil Dispater. How would they reach the Library of Oaths three more layers beyond in Stygia if they were stopped here?!
As Kelinahat and her companion swiftly discover, Erecura is a manipulator on par with all of the brightest devils of Hell, and yet she carries her own agenda often at odds with The Pit. She has, at this point in the eons, had rare visitors apart from her husband and her trio of Norn handmaidens, and has therefore grown bored and seeks a new scheme. After the Burleev demonstrates personal knowledge of one of her husband Dispater's sons, the recently ascended empyreal lord Ragathiel, Erecura reveals that she had facilitated her son-in-law's destruction of Typhon, at the behest of Asmodeus himself. And while she has no designs to see Geryon punished, there was a book that she had been waiting on for a thousand years. Sneaking an archon of Heaven and a Nethysian servitor of the Maelstrom into one of the most closely guarded places in all of Hell sounds like fun to her.
She summons one of her handmaidens, Rowane, to accompany Kelinahat and the Burleev, and they uncover a winding staircase bypassing both Erebus and Phlegethon to allow the now-trio to get directly into Stygia. They have not breached Geryon's realm by more than a few steps when they are confronted by an bone devil who asks them their business while raising an enormous stinger...
---
Father Prasst had promised that reading the book might reveal some lessons that Silvio might be able to use during the upcoming infiltration mission, and that some things might not be immediately apparent, but he is also aware that this is no pleasure cruise. He looks up from the book when Charles points out the creatures on the shore, but Charles corrects the halfling that they are in fact Kappas: puckish turtle-like, amphibious humanoids.
They are known to play harmless pranks on passersby, such as peeking under robes, stealing a bathers’ clothing, or pretending to be an aquatic predator. They can become dangerous when made angry, however, and more degenerate or malicious kappas might drown people and eat them.
Those wise to the ways of kappas know the creatures have a few weaknesses. First of all, kappas love cucumbers and horseflesh. If plied with such treats, a kappa is likely to not bother intruders, and might even be convinced to offer aid. Further, despite a kappa’s penchant for pranks, it is unfailingly polite to courteous visitors. A kappa confronted with a verbal rebuke rather than combat quickly and almost shamefully apologizes for its pranks, begging for forgiveness.
If its head bowl is emptied, a kappa usually remains stationary and pleads for help, continuing to fight only if forced to. An opponent who refills the kappa’s head bowl after spilling it receives the kappa’s deepest gratitude. Only the wisest and smartest of kappa carry flasks of water with them when they are forced to travel far from their homes--most kappas don’t think this far ahead.
Kappas can see in the dark. They are resistant to the effects of both acid and cold. They are capable wrestlers, able to grapple creatures larger than them, and if pressed to attack can rake with their deadly claws. They are also surprisingly dexterous, and excellent swimmers. If Sledge was looking for a wrestling partner, a kappa might be an easier start than a scrag.
A group of kappas such as this is typically called a Bale.
"It may do us well to err on the side of courtesy here to avoid anything untoward," he says to those on the boat. "This should hopefully be a peaceful group if we all mind our manners."
He calls out to the Bale on the land with a low bow once he has their attention. "Greetings and salutations, master kappas! I've never seen such a fine Bale out this way. Is all well or are you in need of assistance?"
At Charles' call, there is a flurry of hushed whispers from the shore. Then one of the kappas speaks up in a strong, slow voice. "Greetings, landers. We have had our water spilt. A little help would be very kind, please."
They do indeed seem to be immobile: not paralyzed, but clearly struggling to make useful motions to rectify their unfortunate situations.
Silvio turns to Charles, puzzled. "They look rather troubled, don't they? What does it mean that they have their water spilt?"
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"Strange but interesting creatures. I'm glad we have you with us Charles, else I would have had no idea what they were. Does having their water spilt mean they have been injured in some way?" Garen asks while looking across the water to try and determine exactly what the injury or problem may be. In the end he just shakes his head not really knowing what the creatures are nor having a clue as to what having their water spilt may refer to and how or why it is a problem.
"Water spilt, you ask? Each kappa has a small divot on its head that contains water. When that water is spilt, the poor creatures are in an awful shape. The closest comparison I can think of is a young man I knew several years ago who developed a nasty infection in his ears. Poor Stanley could hardly stand up on his own. Fortunately, this condition on a kappa should be much easier to treat." He pauses for a moment to reflect upon their situation. "To have so many spill their water at once, is certainly an oddity. I wonder..."
He turns to the captain, "Captain Walren, I believe we should certainly help them. While it is odd, I do believe they are in need. It almost appears as if they stopped to glance at their reflection in that pool and all stooped down too low. There's no telling how long they've been in such a state."
He calls to the shore, "We can certainly help you! Let me find a pitcher and I can bring some water to you. We have fresh water from the ship or water from the river if you have a preference?"
To the side he adds with a wink, "Master Garen, while I do not think there will be an issue, would you mind getting a better... sense of these fine kappas, if you understand my meaning?"
"Aye, that we can do," says Captain Walren as he begins steering the Black Mist towards shore. He pauses at around 60 feet out to allow Garen a moment to scan the shore. As the paladin does so, he detects no aura of malice from the kappas.
"Lake water, please," the kappa who originally spoke replies. "But I'll take what we can get."
Silvio obliges by searching the Black Mist for an appropriate water receptacle like a clean bucket. "I don't think I'd ever go onto dry land if I could lose my wits just by tilting my head the wrong way."
He looks to the captain. "Is there a safe spot to beach ourselves, or should we just swim?" Either way, he's ready to help!
The dwarven captain peers out and shakes his head. "Best not to take chances. If ye can swim out, that'll be better for us all. Ewem and I will stay here."
Silvio also finds a decent bucket on board. Whether it's clean or not is a matter of perspective, but it has a good enough seal.
Closer up, it seems that four of the kappas have been tipped over. The remaining two, even though they are upright on their feet, have their necks in contorted positions, suggestive of some level of physical trauma. One, presumably the leader, even has what looks like bite marks on him. He is one of the two still standing, his fists upraised in a defiant position. True to what he said, his head bowl--and those of all of the others--are empty.
"I can only cast it on ye before ye go ashore, lad. But it'll last most of an hour. Do ye want it?"
"Last time we stopped to help strangers, some of you nearly drowned. Yell loudly if you need me." Sledge responds, opting to stay on the ship with the captain.
"Some of us nearly drowned just yesterday," Silvio retorts, referring to their encounter with the Scrag.
Silvio hands Garen the Ring of Swimming. "Maybe you should hang on to it--could be handy in the future." He then rolls up his sleeves and pant legs, and then he and shaggy Winter jump into the water.
Charles leaves tucks Roger into his shirt pocket and begins prepping himself to swim for a bit with his spell. He grabs the empty skin that contained the oil used on the scrag and dives down into the water. While in the water, he begins thoroughly rinsing it out to make sure it is as clean as possible before filling it with a pint of the river's water.
Upon approaching the shore, he asks for the kappas, "It looks like you've seen a bit of trouble here? Is there anything I can do to assist in addition to helping with your water?"
The kappa's leader creaks a little bit as he turns to see Charles, Silvio, and Winter approaching. The leader is slightly taller than Silvio, but Silvio is taller than the other five (especially with four of them on their backs). Then he speaks, his voice still slow and measured.
"Trouble we've seen, all right. We was just minding our business when this tusked beastie swum up and attacked us. Loudest thing I've ever heard roaring. Lakitu, Ghido, and Michelle fell over just with the roar. Knocked the rest of us over with its tail, bit me, then flew away. Real mean like. I thought we was all gonna die, but I've got a good hard shell and I gave it what for!" The kappa leader sluggishly balls up his fists and slowly raises them in defiance.
He cranes his neck to receive the promised water.