The ship rose gently on a swell of glistening blue-green water capped with white foam as the brilliant tropical sun overhead baked the deck of the Peregrine. A stiff wind blew the ship at a brisk speed and a pod of dolphins raced alongside the ship and leaped from the water with joyous chittering.
After six long weeks, this morning the crew of the Peregrine sighted land to the west. A few hours later, the Peregrine sails into a natural bay with a sandy beach within rowing distance for the ship’s boats. As the crew begins to untie one of the smaller boats to lower it into the water, the sailors pass a spyglass among themselves and finally hand it back to the captain.
Captain Jacob Markosi peers at the island for a moment before grunting and handing the spyglass to expedition leader Ramona Avandth. “You should see this,” he says quietly. Ramona accepts the spyglass and peers toward the shore. When she lowers the scope, she is clearly distressed but trying to hide her worry.
She approaches and motions toward the far side of the deck, away from where most of the other colonists have congregated. “Can I have a word with you?” she asks.
By no means has Britta's brilliance diminished. There were times where her exhuberance was tested, and what started as a very lively companion, turned to utter boredom on the long ride. Over the past days, she's renewed herself with sparring, experimenting with cooking, learning new skills from the crew, and playing games that spark the imagination.
Before crewing on the Peregrine, she had taken a ship to the port from Absalom. Such a distance has left her once beautiful luscious curls and bright red hair to seem flat or dead. Her skin constantly bears a sheen of sweat on it which makes her seem all the more pasty white or ill, and her clothes, once multilayered have now all been stripped down to light, mostly white garments to promote air movement. Still, of most of the crew aboard, she is clearly very beautiful and has kept morale quite high despite the danger of discontentment.
As Ramona looks out with the spyglass, Britta's wary eyes curiously wonder what the woman is seeing. When motioned to, the duelist approaches quietly and secretly.
Aleranna approaches Ramona with a steady attitude. The Chelaxian half-elf carried some beauty on her - something rustic, tomboy, from someone raised in a humble environment. After the many weeks sailing, her pitch black hair wasn't nicely brushed anymore, and her skin showed a healthy tanning; she still made an effort to somewhat keep herself and her clothes clean, but in truth she was more practical than vain.
At that morning she isn't using her breastplate, and is only carrying her small, sheathed leafblade. Arms crossed behind the back, the one true object calling attention is the crystal-shaped wooden holy symbol of the elven goddess Yuelral, the Wise, that the paladin showed about her grey linen shirt.
The Eagle Knights recruit does a quick nod with her head, looking the expedition leader in her eyes, but doesn't say a word. She waits for Ramona to speak; instead, she blinks an eye towards Britta, breaking the ice, greeting her fellow expeditioner with a fast, quick smile.
Extracts Prepared: cure light wounds, monkey fish
Life at sea was by now eminently familiar to Dolgrin, who had prepared both for the ship and the island. Decades baking under the hot sun, less a few years more or less cooped up in Professor Tobblemouth's laboratory, had left him with a permanent leathery tan. Over the weeks, he had taken to producing batches of lotion to protect him and his fellow sailors from the worst of the sun's rays. The heat, however, was a different story. His usually well-coifed beard was now a frizzy bush in the tropical heat. He isn't exactly handsome, but most peoples' standards, but is at least sufficiently affable (moreso than the average dwarf).
The dwarf swings down from the Peregrine's mast, his cotton shirt completely unbuttoned and off his chest, more wrapped and tucked into his pants. His barrel chest is covered with hair, which passively wicks away the sweat. As he lands on the deck with a thud, he scratches uncomfortably at his beard. He didn't want to shave, gods forbid, but maybe he could find some way to keep a bit cooler without divine into the salty brine.
He watches as Ramona waves over Britta, Aleranna, and Teacher, and he ambles over to join them, adjusting his glasses to reduce the sun's glare.
"For you Ramona, you can have three words with us," Dolgrin responds, chuckling jovially as he tries to defuse the tension.
Teacher Corvoril approaches the expedition leader and stands at something resembling attention. By the start of the expidition, Teacher was already a veteran sailor and fisherman. He is used to ship life. Unlike many of the passengers, he was not beset with seasickness at the start of the journey and he eagerly inserted himself into duty rotations. Despite being topless, his dark blue-gray skin shows no change in pigment from sun exposure and his shoulder-length hair is already white. Likewise, he already had calluses from scrubbing decks and working rigging, so no new calluses had been formed. He looks as he always does: calm, collected, confident.
Teacher Corvoril greets the others assembled with a curt nod.
Dolgrin raises his bushy eyebrows at his (all much taller) traveling companions and shakes his head. "Quiet today, mmm? Has the sea dried out your throats, mmm? I can whip up some lozenges what'll wet your whistles for more conversatin. But I suppose it's more important to keep your ears clear. Anywhat, go on Ramona, and have as many words as you care for."
"Shush, Dolgrin Briskalberd!" the bonnie redhead cheerily replies, using his full name. He'd know her too well to ever think she'd be silent after such a trip on the sea. Why, on their first day on the ship, she got up on the railing and announced herself to everyone with flair. Every meal she helped the cook serve on the ship was handed out with laughter and charm. Now, she is attempting to be silent for the secrecy that Ramona seemed to think necessary by beckoning them all over privately. Even her eyebrows indicate the up-and-down movement usually accompanied with a wink toward the dwarf as if he should "read the room".
Dolgrin chuckles and nods his head appreciatively at Britta, humming a bit as he awaits whatever was so urgent.
A tall ulfen with luxurious black hair that fell past his shoulders and a thick black beard that touched his chest stepped from the shadow of the mast and followed after the others he had gotten to know along the journey. As always he clutched a thick book in his ink stained hands, a book the rest of the group knew he would constantly be jotting down ideas and observations into about anything and everything that he deemed important. Despite his obvious lineage he was a lean specimen of the Ulfen people, being of middling height and pale of skin that never seemed to tan despite the harsh tropical sun. Another unusual aspect were his black and blue eyes. Whereas humans had white sclera some event in Torik's past had cursed him with pitch black sclera and the only break in the inky darkness was his piercing blue iris that was common to the northern humans.
Not one for small talk he stepped up close to Ramona and the others. "What is it?"
"We have a problem," Ramona says bluntly, once the party had come close enough to ensure privacy. She hands the spyglass to the party and stares out over the water towards the colony, "Something is wrong. Nobody's in sight. There's no smoke from cook fires or the smithy. Some of the buildings look burned out.
Ramona continues in a low voice "Sailors can't keep their mouths shut. Soon all the other colonists are going to hear about this- if they can't see for themselves already- and things could become...tense. I need you to take a couple of the ship's boats and explore the village. We have no other options except to land since our food will not last another trip back across the ocean so I would like you to discover if there is anything dangerous about the village and then meet us up the coast at the secondary landing sight."
The paladin picks the spyglass and looks, and her usually upbeat expression is replaced by one of desolation.
Yes... I... I see it. - she mutters, passing the spyglass to the others.
As the rest of the party looks at it, she continues speaking with Ramona.
Please, count with me... With us, rather, as I bet my colleagues share the same desire. - brief pause - We will take a boat and go explore it. Hopefully we can still find people alive, and they just had to abandon this village due to some... Inconvenience.
Even she finds hard to believe her own optimism, but yet she tries to stay positive as she waits for the others to ponder.
"Oh, I think they may already have a sense," Dolgrin says, itching his beard. The dwarf mutters a prayer for protection to Torag, and then leans around to look at the others around the ship. "We'll be yer away team, then. Just give me a moment to gather my implements."
He toddles off to go and get his equipment and get armed and armored.
Aleranna scratches her nose, careful as to not hurt herself with her nails - a bit longer due to the long trip. She holds for the others to chime in.
There is worry that grows in her heart as she is handed the spyglass from the others and they all seem to confirm the sighting. Something is not right. With concern for her friend on the island, she looks frantically to the left and right.
"If course!" she answers with a hurried worry in her tone. Volunteering for the task ashore will also give her the premier chance to find those she cares about.
When Dolgrin leaves to go gather his gear for the journey, she reminds her companions:
"Do it as quietly as possible. No need to get people worked up. Some may already be getting suspicious of us all gandering toward the land with worried looks on our faces. Smile!" she commands as she hands off the spyglass and heads downstairs herself. If anyone asks about what they saw on land, she will shake her head and just reply with "standard stuff", or "a town". If asked why she's getting armored up and ready, she will answer, "because it's standard procedure to send an away team to verify the safety of the teeming masses of people ashore. Who knows if they are diseased or not?" There is a downside to being popular; everyone comes to you for advice/questions.
When back up top, she will be wearing a beautiful golden-colored tunic with comfortable pants meant for fighting. Her hair will be tied back and ready for action. It is then that she will suggest something to Ramona:
I would suggest that you or the captain pick someone who has been sniffly as of late. Then, tell the others that because someone on board may be sick, the ship must be kept there for a time for the purposes of "quarantine". Only those who have not been exposed to that person and who are capable as scouts to ensure safety can go ashore. Something like that..." She shrugs nervously. "In any case, I don't envy you having to remain here to deal with these people ready to jump ship and swim for shore...Hopefully you can buy us a few hours, if not days if this is prolonged. We'll send up a flaming arrow if it is to take a bit longer. We will start a fire on the shore if it is safe to come."
Dolgrin returns to the deck after a few minutes, bedecked with his traveling bag. He has been humming the whole time, aware of the chatter around him but mostly ignoring it. People could gossip and fret all they wanted--there wasn't much he could (or cared to) do about it.
He pulls on his leathers--boots and armor both. He has more than half a dozen vials of different shades and viscosities strapped to his chest, and a cache of unmixed materials (herbs, liquids, and more) in compartments all over his body. An axe and a pick cross in an X on his back, while his clan dagger sits sheathed on his right hip. His hammer is secured to his left leg such that it doesn't hinder his walking but his ready to be retrieved quickly. But it doesn't look like the dwarf is headed off to war, as this sort pf weighed-down, well-prepared appearance is all-too common for him, even when he is swinging from the ship's rigging.
Before re-emerging topside, Dolgrin scrubs his leathers with a bit of oil to keep them from getting instantly water-logged, and then combs his beard and hair with some of the same oil. It wasn't multipurpose, but it would do something where they were headed.
Not trying to be contrary, Dolgrin pushes back a tad on Britta's recommendation. "No need to start our time off aground with a lie, nay even a bent half-truth. They already seem to know someat's amiss. I trust Ramona to handle her people right fine. But aye, we can shoot up a flamin' arrow n' meet ye at the secondary site after we push upshore."
Torik took the spyglass and gazed at the distant settlement for several several minutes, moving the device in tiny distances to shift what he was looking at.
Despite his attentive gaze he lowered the spyglass with a grimace and handed it to the next person, unable to scry out anything of use beyond what Ramona had told them. "There is no need for a fire arrow, the secondary site is several miles northwest of the town. As for the others..." Torik looks around at the mulling settlers and soldiers for a moment before looking back at Ramona. "Lying will only come back to haunt you. If you cannot tell them the truth then say nothing at all."
His blunt message delivered the pale ulfen moved to the stairs that led to the hold below where his own gear was kept and came back a few minutes later with a large backpack neatly ordered and packed. His ever present book had vanished and now three daggers lined his belt while a thick quarterstaff was strapped to his back. A folded light crossbow was strapped to his right thigh while several bolts fitted neatly on a leather strap that wrapped around his left thigh. In the the tropical paradise they sailed through the only clothing he wore was a loose clean white tunic that he left open at the chest and tucked into black pants. His feet, as they had been the entire journey across the ocean, were barefoot while his black leather boots were stored safely in his bag.
Without a word to anyone the taciturn Ulfen carried his bag over to where sailors were lowering one of the Ship's boat and dropped his bag overboard into the smaller vessel. He followed the bag a moment later once the boat had settled into the water, lowering himself hand over hand down the rope the sailors had tied to the railing and settled down at one of the oars.
Teacher Corvoril also takes a look through the spyglass. It does not look hopeful, but there is not cause for despair yet. "A fire in the village may have forced them inland to seek trees or caves for shelter." He says, collapsing the spyglass and handing it back to the captain. "We shall see." Like many monks, Corvoril's attire does not vary much. His primary garment is a pair if simple, linen trousers. Linen is not damaged by water, nor does is shrink when wet, making it one of the more ideal fabrics for use at sea. His upper arms and forearms are protected by leather spaulders and vambraces, each vambrace having five shuriken slotted for ease of access. The only obvious weapon he carries is the seaxe at his waist - a large knife of ulfen make, prized for its utility at sea. He is, of course, barefoot.
Corvoril retrieves a few items from his supplies and makes up a small pack to bring with. He has more supplies than he normally would courtesy of the Company, but he did not want to bring all of it with him now, and he lowers it into the boat bound for shore. Unburdened by armor or heavy clothing, Corvoril jumps up on the railing of the ship and dives into the waves below, making hardly a splash. He lets weight and momentum carry him down into the cool, dark depths. The pressure feels comforting. The aquatic half-elf sinks head-first to the ocean floor before turning, kicking of the sandy bottom, and rapidly rising back to the surface. Bobbing about near the bow of the boat bound for shore, he shakes his head to throw his wet, black hair clear of his face, and asks "Are we ready to depart?"
Not to be outdone, Dolgrin follows Torik down, sliding after him and avoiding rope burn thanks to thick calluses on his hands. The years in a lab instead of actively on a ship had only added to the variety of callus rather than diminishing them, owing to accidental chemical burns. Either way, it feels a bit like showing off and he chuckles lightly to himself as the others seem rather grim. Landing in the boat, the dwarf breathes the salty air with a look of delight on his face. "Aye, let's push off! Come on, lads and ladies, the isle awaits!"
Ramona narrowed her eyes at Torik's back as the ulfen wizard stepped away, clearly not liking his attitude. She half listened to the suggestions of the others and gave them weary smiles as they each stepped away to the long boat, clearly mustering the necessary strength to face the frightened settlers. When the last member of the party slipped over the edge of the ship they could hear the colony leader calling out to all on the ship to gather.
Once the last person was aboard Torik and Dolgrin would haul hard on the oars and steer the boat away from the ship and point it towards shore. The bay’s waters are calm, with only a gentle rocking of the ship’s boat. The shore is approximately three hundred feet to the east, where a lonely dock is built off a sandy beach. The ulfen would soon break out a rythmic dwarven song that flowed into the rowing rythm and made time seem to pass a little faster, if only seemingly.
Several minutes later the shore was quickly approaching and they could see the buildings more clearly. Ahead in the water the depth rose up sharply until it was only five feet deep and a sandbar was visible.
Dolgrin hums merrily along with Torik, his mind wandering and wondering if he might teach the Ulfen man any Dwarven work songs.
Torik grunts as the first hints of fatigue start to build up with a growing burning sensation appearing in his shoulders. A flicker of movement from the corner of his eye caused the ulfen to stand suddenly and point at the sand bar. "Ware the sandbar, Grindylow!"
When the others shift down the side, hardly waiting for Ramona to bid them farewell or give them additional instructions, she caringly pats the hardened sailor on the shoulder for what she'll have to endure on the ship.
"We'll see you all soon."
She is the last down the rope, taking her time to lower herself (in comparison to Dolgrin's hasty descent) to the boat. Despite being slower, she is still swift enough and capably keeps her balance once planted.
The sturdy pull of the oars surge the rowboat forward with a rushing sound of water. As it does, she takes her seat and leans back to enjoy the breeze in her hair--though it may not fly as freely as if were it freshly washed. Her gaze scans over the waters from left to right, even occasionally looking below them for the bottom.
With the warning of the sandbar approaching, she will sit up a bit and become a bit more attentive.
"I think we just passed the drop-off. The water is considerably lighter ahead. Let's land on the sandbar and carry the rowboat across it. It might save us more time than going around."
Agreed... - says the paladin, nodding to Britta - Let's be ready from now on. Whatever happened here, may still represent danger for us.
Aleranna is already covered in her breastplate, but the long elven blade isn't sheathed as she helps with the oars as the boat approaches the sandbar.
As the group gets closer the clear water suddenly gets murky as something on the bottom churns up the sand. When the boat glides over the sandbar there is a high shriek as two goblin-like creatures with octopus tentacles instead of legs streak straight at Corvoril under the surface of the water with teeth bared.
Teacher Corvoril-
Aleranna Dawn-
Britta Karan-
Dolgrin Briskalberd-
Torik Bolstad-
Grindlow 1-
Grindlow 2-
Torik sees the ripples as the two small monsters make a run at Corvoril and simply snaps his fingers to summon an oddly green colored chainshirt that settled around the ulfen's torso and fit like a glove. "Ware the tentacles, they can grapple just as well as an Octopus.
"Here they come!" she warns as the water shows itself as a clouded murk in the distance. She quickly pulls her weapon and slips off her pack as the threat looms. Then...the waiting. The sounds of other weapons are drawn. Silence. The grindylow's oceanic bodies are well hidden at a distance. Even the waves seem to wait. The sound of the ocean rising and falling is all she can hear--then the burst of energy, the cries from their foes, and then the surging forth toward Torik. The water boils as they collide with her companion. She leaps from the boat into the fray, stabbing downward on one of them with haste.
With a violent thrust forward, the swashbuckler shows her skill in combat, particularly in the water. Her blade slices through it as though it were homebound. She stays at the surface but holds her breath in this harrowing instance.
Aleranna jumps at the water, seeking to attack the closest enemy to her. Despite not being an efficient weapon underwater, she pulls her elven curveblade and tries to use it before the enemy has chance to act.
When Torik mentions grindylow beyond the sandbar, Dolgrin reaches to his back between oar strokes and draw his axe forth. A grin stretches across his face and he bellows something almost joyful sounding in Dwarven before switching to Taldane. "Let them crash against our blades!" He stands up and dives into the water, trying to surround one of the grindylows .
Teacher calmly awaits the approach of one of the little shipwreckers. Chasing after them would only be a waste of energy.
The first grindylow is stabbed and cut in half before it can get too close to the swimming monk as both Britta and Aleranna are doused in foul smelling and sticky black blood as the goblin-like creature floats away. The second one passes by the two woman and stabs out with its own small spear at the monk, ignoring the teeth shattering punch that Corvoril managed to land.
Dolgrin jumps into the water with cheerful vigor but completely misses the small and quick aquatic creature. Shouts come the ship behind them as the rest of the crew shouted encouragement as they all watched the melee from the railings of the Peregrine. Torik bites back a curse as the boat rocks violently from three people jumping off of it suddenly and just barely manages to grab both oars to keep the vessel from spinning or being swept back out into the ocean.
Now it was up to her! While on the surface, she gathers another breath and holds it. The other grindylow has filled the ocean with its foul essence, but she is not deterred. The swishing of her blade refocuses and she angles herself in proper alignment to hack now at the other creature as it leans in to stab at her comrade.
*Flanking
Despite being slowed down by the water Britta manages to drive her rapier all the way through the second foul creature where it thrashed around for almost 20 seconds before finally dying as a thin trail of sticky black blood begins to fan out as it hits the water. Behind the fighters the water begins to boil as suddenly hundreds of tiny fish begin to attack the two pieces of the first Grindylow, each fighting to take their own tiny morsel from the sudden feast. A moment later Britta will feel vibrations running up her blade before something larger darts through the water and slams into the dead creature impaled on it, almost knocking the sword out of her hand.
A thin fish several feet long with a mouth full of dagger like teeth has latched onto the arm of the Grindylow and thrashes with savage determination, determined to win this prize from the much larger invaders into the oceanic realm.
As quick as she can, she will gather the spear of the dead grindylow in hand before it sinks. She then will raise it in victory to the ship's cheering behind her, hopefully, showing them all is well.
The fish become more aggressive in the area and her blade is almost smacked out of her hand. She'll get the hint and calmly swims back to the boat with the others, ensuring not to splash around and become a target herself. It is clear that Grindylow are tasty in the expert opinions of fish and they were in need of a good meal.
When back at the boat, she will deposit whatever she was able to gather from the grindylow before it sank in a torrent of fish. What did this spear look like? Was it a treasure or a far reach from one?
Dolgrin places his axe onto his back with a mutter of "stupid fast small things" and then climbs back into the boat to help Torik row again. He raises a fist back towards the Peregrine in an echo of Britta's gesture, and then encourages the others back in given the sudden prevalence of marine life surrounding them. "Leave the fishies be, mmm? We still have a job to do."
Agreed, Dolgrin. We should head to the beach and start checking the town... We may even be able to find survivors. I fear the grindylow may have overran the city, which pains my heart. - says the Paladin, herself moving towards the shore to start exploring.
Both in the boat and swimming alongside the party traversed the final fifty feet and rode a small wave to beach the vessel firmly in the sand.
A well-worn path in the grass rises up a slope toward a cluster of buildings to the east. The buildings are arranged in a rough triangle, with each point ending in a wooden circular enclosure with rectangular notches cut intermittently, like battlements. These round enclosures are clearly meant to be three points of a wooden palisade fence, which would enclose this first group of buildings once completed. The palisade fence, however, is complete only along the southeastern side of the triangle and is obviously unfinished elsewhere. The grass around the settlement looks like it was cropped at one point, and many paths exist between locations in the settlement, but in less well-trafficked spots, the grass has started to regrow. All the buildings are constructed of either rough timber or mud bricks set in a wooden frame, and have pitched thatch roofs. Many have open window frames, but only a few have actual shutters or even a canvas curtain for privacy. Doors are basic, wooden affairs, too simple for locks, and some buildings lack them entirely. The construction is new, quite rough and unfinished.
Dolgrin begins looking at the unfinished state of the colony with uncertainty and discomfort. "They're supposed to have been here for a few months and this is all they finished?" he says in a low voice. Axe drawn, he begins walking around, trying not to look like he is skipping to keep up with the others, and instead using his space fairly low to the ground to focus on any available impressions in the unkempt grass.
"The construction looks new...and rough." She moves up the shoreline. "Perhaps they thought it wiser to abandon this, and maybe this is just an outpost to a larger settlement further in?"
Looking at the construction, she gauges which side is finished. Perhaps that is the side they were most concerned with defending against?
"Hello!?" she calls out, hoping to hear the voice of anyone, but especially her friend. She was a lead defender of this place and supported Britta's journey here. As Britta looks over the situation, she can't suppose that this is the fruits of her mentor's defenses.
"If it's an outpost, then it would make more sense to finish it, and at least keep something manned." Dolgrin responds. "Or repurpose some of the raw materials."
When Britta calls out, Dolgrin strokes his beard and looks up at her. "Maybe we don't call out so much just yet. If our folk are hiding, maybe there's a reason. If they're not here, then something else may be hiding in their stead."
The alchemist doesn't have much of a mind for tactics, necessarily, but he had come up against more than one abandoned ship out on the ocean meant as a trap for pirates to spring on unseasoned do-gooders. Those rapscallions could be a cunning sort, and sometimes you had to think like them to avoid their tricks.
"Of course, my friend!" she answers, not hesitant at all at the rebuke. "I merely thought that if there were villains present, they likely saw our massive ship slothingly approach, a boat descend from it, and us row toward shore. Then, fight quite loudly, then would hear the cheers from the ship and would have seen us openly pull up in our rowboat. I think if we are going to be ambushed, it is already in the works." She winks with a faint smile, showing she's considered this. "In any case, the deed is done, let's hope we are greeted by friends."
She then looks to Teacher Corvoril, Aleranna, and Torik for their insight on what they see. Perhaps there is magic afoot? An illusion would be a wise defense!
"I do not think it likely that any villains would be sitting around here for days on end on the off chance that a small away team might arrive." Teacher grumbles, kneeling on what he presumes to be a main path. "I do not see signs of battle. As you suggested, they may have left more-or-less willingly for one reason or another. This would not be the first settlement to find some overlooked or invisible obstacle after setting down roots." The tall half-elf searches for fresh footprints to see if anyone has been here recently.
Aleranna tries to aid to the best of her skills as the group searches for clues as to where the people here would have gone.
I'm not sure how you can determine that fast that there are no signs of battle, but I'm glad to hear so. This might mean we have more survivors. - she completes, somewhat showing that her priorities might be to the well being of people.
They may also be hidden in these constructions, right? Maybe there are some trapdoors around? I feel we should inspect the buildings before moving ahead.
As the party make their way into the roughly built town their voices will echo off the walls of the silent site. An eerie creaking revealed a badly constructed fence gate that waved in the wind and protested each movement. Several buildings had open front doors and were exposed to the elements, sand and other beach detritus already encroaching upon the interiors.
A solitary dock extends from the beach into the bay. The construction is solid and looks recent, suitable for tying off a small boat, although no watercraft are visible. The beach inclines to the east before giving way to grass and trees. Further on in that direction, buildings and a palisade wall stand on the rise. The beach was devoid of any footprints besides the party members, even above the tide line where such signs would last for several days, even weeks.
Coming up empty on a search for anything useful, Dolgrin makes a gesture towards the dock. "Mayhaps we start from the outside and then work our way in, eh?" Unless the others object, the dwarf starts toddling his way down towards the dock.
Very well, Dolgrin. I like having at least a plan, since our searches around here aren't proving fruitful! - says the Paladin, moving with the Dwarf towards the docks with her sword drawn.
Torik will follow behind Dolgrin and Aleranna while unslinging the crossbow hanging from his back, grunting with the effort to cock the weapon before placing a bolt and holding it at a ready position. "Grindylow so close to shore indicates it has been a while since any sea vessel plied these waters. They are normally quite skittish."
"Oh is that so, Torik?" Dolgrin says, his axe swinging gently with his slow pace. He had not taken much time to study creatures like grindylow, not being particularly germane to his research interests, and so he was appreciative of the wizard's insights. "They didn't seem to mind approaching us, though, to their peril. Just in case we find anymore of 'em, do ye have anything else to share with the class?"
The dwarf keeps his eyes peeled as he strides ahead. Despite the ominous environs, he seems mostly unperturbed.