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"Be ready now lads and lassies! We're in for it now."
John speaks a word and his holy wooden stick begins to glow green. It's a bright and sweet emerald green that speaks of great untouched pastures and little people dancing at the ends of rainbows singing about their pots o' gold and their lucky charms.
** spoiler omitted **
One on Krystid died, one on Johnny Died
Ienmar swings again.
Smirking as the primitives close in, Amber ducks the swing of the club and twists out of the spear's path, answering in kind by burying her axe head in the spearman's(spearfrog's?) neck.
(CRIT!!)
"What is this? What do these folks want!?" Baldrek is still amazed that the frogmen didn't directly initiate the conflict, and that they haven't even answered first blood.
"What do you want from us!? Tell us now!" He said desperately, eager to find out whether they've screwed it all up or not. Still, he refuses to use violence until justified.
”Blackrock, if ye ain’t fightin’, defend the people from bein’ kidnapped!” Ienmar shouts as he fights, wiping away frog blood from his eyes as he shield-bashes the dead frogmen away to move and flank with Amber.
The 12 frog men who have come to fight you only half exist. With arrow, axe, and hammer they fall one. The spear frog took a deep nearly decapitating blood spilling its lifeblood into the wet much of the ground.
Another horn blast sounds and gurgling croak issues forth. A chorus of croaks follows this.
[ooc] Strength Save DC 15[/dice]
Perception
Arcana
STR Save
If she can attack again:
The croaks come to a crescendo and the very ground around you begins to writhe. Weeds shoot up to ensnare you and many finds hold on Morkham and John! These three were caught in some insidious power of these dastardly Frog Men.
Those not entangled notice your enemies are beginning to withdraw, and sounds of battle dying down. You all notice that the rain has become a torrent as well with the ground slopping even more.
[spoiler=Krystid] Yes you get a shot in, though it does not kill your enemy it does make it limp off[/xpoiler]
Ienmar drops his hammer and raises his crossbow, the carved dragon-head aiming at any frogmen carrying supplies or captives.
Failing to find anything, Ienmar turns quickly to survey the camp and the chaos.
"Who's missing?" he shouted, searching for the group's commander.
Baldrek notices something and quickly shouts it out loud.
"Their boss is there!" He points out the direction.
Dwarves stumble and cry out on a deary wet night. Some shapes in the mud never rise, and others groan. The Frog Folk and their friends seem to be heading off with speed.
Berk Iornbeard holding a gory Battle axe in one hand and holding his side in the other seems to be rallying some of the forces. Some of the settlers seem to have grabbed everyday items to defend themselves. Few though have come out from hiding and several lay on the ground.
Krystid fires a shot at one of the ones with a wand. Maybe that will break the spell.
"Cursed rain in my eye!"
Baldrek follows Berk Ironbeard and the others trying to reach the enemy's hq. He's sure he can contribute any way, though he's still nervous enough to be more of a nuisance than an asset for now.
No one told him a mass battle was such a chaos!
Ienmar forces his way through the weeds with powerful strides, smashing away the weeds when necessary. He tosses his crossbow away, picks up his hammer, and charges closer to the retreating foes, shouting, "For the Khaz'Azhyr!"
"Confound it! I like roots better than vines".
STR roll to break loose
One of the club wielding Frog folk is close enough to try and get but deftly dodges the hammer and then springs away.
As it falters on its own flipper-like feet the rest begin to slink off into the night. As they do the rain lessens.
"tha's right ya web-toed sissies! RUN!" Amber bellows at the retreating amphibians. Axe still in hand, she starts to make her way out of the grasping vines and toward Berk Ironbeard. "This was no random raid; they came prepared for us!"
One of the club wielding Frog folk is close enough to try and get but deftly dodges the hammer and then springs away.
Ienmar’s hammer comes down as an attack of opportunity.
Ienmar stands over the battlefield, witnessing the retreating foes, and clangs his hammer against his shield in a clear taunt and warning to not return.
”We need to build defenses,” he says as he returns to the camp. ”Preferably a base of operations in a mine or cave. We have the miners to turn it into a place to live in.”
Berk Iornbeard comes over to the others, and has a few dwarves head over to begin clearing the entangling weeds. As They did Berk Whirls his Combat Rod its combat ribbon signalling for those to meet up with him. Others who were next to him headed out to the perimeter. Other continued to free the captured or check the downed.
When those who gathered about Berk, the old grizzled veteran nods and speaks." Clan Godforge! We need to fortify our position. Now I know we need to get back our missing and our gear. But in this weather and with so many injured I can only send out a small group of you. This group will be accompanied by our Falconer Ogna Stoneshield, she will send updates back to her twin sister Ina Stoneshield and we will communicate back and forth. Who among you will volunteer. I know my contingent will work to reinforce this camp and heal the sick and treat the wounded. So its up to you settlers to forge ahead."
Ienmar approaches, and smashes the weeds clinging to his comrades with a powerful bash.
"I am yours to command, Berk," Ienmar says, grabbing his rain-drenched beard and twisting it dry, before tucking it into his belt. "I volunteer to any task for the Godforge!"
"I volunteer as well!"
Amber puts her fist in her hand, popping knuckles. "Nobody raids my kinfolk and just...HOPS away with them. They'll bleed or burn but by my brew they'll pay!"
As cries come out in support all of you are gestured to gather near the twin dwarven sisters with a Large falcon. Aside from your chosen dwarves. The one's the Thane had selected was a dwarven youth standing just over five feet in height with a huge liter on his back. He wore a leather apron and seemed to carry cookware on him. He was called Oolie, a simple dwarf who could not talk. He however was kind-hearted and strong.
Oolie using his hands began to gesture in that he would accompany them, carry and cook for the group as needed. Berk nodded and spoke."Young Oolie has decided to be this group's attache' and chef. SO mighty Warriors may Moridin bless you and guide you, and may Kords' strength break those frogs!"
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Once you are gathered the twins share a few different parcels and they then begin to look at the ground. At this time the rain is down to a heavy mist. Oolie grabs some supplies and puts them in his huge basket on his back. For assurances, he hefts his pan and smiles at the others.
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Johnny Boy is a Dwarf.
He is also a Druid.
So he has issues.
Torn between the world of his family, his race, his people, which revolves around rock and stone, mineral and vein, axe and pick, always with at least two eyes downward looking for the next great vein rich in ore, and the world of his heart, which looks upward, toward twig and stem and root and tree and all things green...his was a divided soul.
Thus when he left he must needs know a thing about the new world he sought to make his own. He delved into the language of the trees, of grass, and of dirt. He listened with rapt attention as the very ground lectured at length on what tales it had to spin, at what ancient kings had tread its paths and what new feet had yet to tread upon it.
He was an apt pupil.
"There! To the East! The dirty, dirty greenskin aliens are making no attempt to cover their tracks. Two dozen walking, I'd say, and some great host of frogs.
Still no match for us, but we must needs be cautious."
"Then we hunt," Ienmar says, following Johnny Boy's lead.
"Suppose I'll find out what frog parts can do for a brew." Amber rolls her shoulders and falls in with the hunting party.
Why did Baldrek volunteer? He should be with the miners. He's a miner!
He asks himself this question all the way through. Still no answer. Just... he felt he ought to come here. So he raised his hand.
His thoughts get interrupted by Johnny's warning. They're near their prey. Baldrek asks for help to the Alfather of Dwarves, and a blessing is bestowed on him. He feels safer now, and ready to catch some frogs.
Ogna and Oolis stand at the edge of camp and follow your lead. The Trail is basically apparent that many frogs and frogmen can't travel without leaving a few dozen footprints.
As you travel an hour passes and you note a few frogs the size of a buckler. As you continue passing you note the rain has stopped. As you travel you note the forest and ground have become a bit less muddy and murkier as if the mud was becoming brackish goo instead of mud.
As you slog along you begin to notice the landscape has changed. You no longer are in forested hills, but a strange bog with hills. Oddly enough your first hour of travel goes by uneventfully.
In the second hour, the sun begins to be seen. As it does, you can see more frogs and larger lizards appearing as well as a variety of insects. It gets thicker and feels like your legs are moving through ropes.
You do come to a small hillock that seems to be used as a campsite. A permanent firepit as well as a refuse pit. even a leveled spot for pitching tents.
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Morkam in a surprising burst of strength, shreds the vines holding him and steps forth ready to hunt.
"I hate frogs... well except for their legs which are delicious slow roasted over the fire with pepper and garlic".
Nature
He is for now content to let the more experienced nature loving members of the group but does his best to gather a few medium sized frogs for future digesting.
Survival (To hunt a few frogs).
But mostly succeeds in splashing himself and any nearby companions a lot.
Baldrek is not really sure to be sharing his companions' gastronomic tastes, but there he is, through the bog. He notices...
...well, something for sure.
"don't know if anyone's tried to make a drink out of 'em but I'll damned sure try."