Returning to the colony with the significantly large shark brings cheers of victory and satisfaction from the colonists, and more than one clap you on the back as you walk past with your prize.
Anya responds to the call for a butcher, and she assures you that she'll clean and prepare the shark meat appropriately for the grindylow.
"I don't quite know how they like their meat, so I won't be cooking it or anything. But I can get the scales off and get it presentable. You did well." the last bit sounds like she's genuinely impressed with your hunt, but she doesn't show much more than the praise.
"Go on, I'll handle this." she says brusquely, waving you away from her impromptu work station.
Ku'Hania grins, knowing that the brusque comment from Anya is akin to celebratory cheering or a round of drinks from anyone else. Taking the time to walk around the settlement, offering help where needed, before enjoying a swim, she meets her companions before they head to meet with Ramona and the officers for the truce with the Grindylow Queen.
The meeting between Ramona and her officers and the grindylows happens right before sunset, with Ramona inviting you along for the ride in the second rowboat behind hers. Anya has prepared the shark's head and side meat just like she said she would, having cleaned and skinned it.
The two boats pull up onto the shore outside the cave you entered just yesterday, and the queen is awaiting your arrival alongside a handful of the smaller adults. She waves towards you with one of her oversized arms as she sees you approach and grins widely, revealing a maw of crooked sharp teeth.
"I'm glad we have decided to handle relations this way." Ramona says, clearly nervous at the very large grindylow.
"It was only because of your good friends here that we were able to come to this agreement." the queen replies, looking sternly back at the expedition lead before widening her mouth again. "What do you think, friends, can our people exist together?"
"Indeed, for the benefit of both." Ku' Hania says with an affirmative nod.
“Ooh, definitely!” Ankha agrees enthusiastically, privately looking forward to the potential boon of having live grindylow volunteers to experiment on.
"Well we didn't come all this way for war!" Braxton declares. He summons ale for everyone to drink. It's not fantastic quality, but it's better than water. "Finding a trading partner this early in our expedition is nothing if not fortuitous. Almost like it was meant to be." Braxton had always been rather lucky. While the mystery of the first settlers still looms over them, the sailor cannot help but feel fate wants him here.
"As I thought." the queen says, before looking over to the bag full of shark meat. "I presume you have managed to slay the shark feeding upon our people, then? And that is the meat we shall share on the beach this night in order to solidify the alliance between our people?"
Ramona nods before motioning Anya forward, who deposits the shark meat in front of the queen. The grindylow laughs in delight and has her people begin crafting a large bonfire, both for entertainment and the task of roasting the shark for all to enjoy.
Within ten minutes of the meeting beginning, it has truly turned into a party. Braxton's ale mixed with the large amount of meat from the shark and a large variety of other seafood the grindylow brought out from their cave makes for a happy scene.
Braxton doesn't want to get into too serious a topic, it is a party after all, but he cannot waste this opportunity to try and learn at least a little bit from the natives about this land, so he asks around to try and identify the prominant members of the grindylow tribe.
Though she tries her best to pretend that she’s enjoying it, Ankha can’t help but make a face when she politely drinks the ale for the first toast. She flashes a warm but fake smile at Braxton in forced appreciation. But as the night wears on, with toast after toast after toast, she loosens up. She spends most of her time chatting enthusiastically with the grindylow, using gestures and charades for those who don’t speak common, asking all sorts of earnest questions: How long does your race live? What is your typical diet? What are your favorite foods? Do you drink salt water or fresh water? How can you stay in the water so long without getting all wrinkly? Do you suffer from any parasites or diseases? Do you have any doctors? Would you like a doctor? Are you open to other types of medicine? How about experimental medicine to make you healthier and live longer? I’d be happy to cut you open to improve your life.
By the end of the night Ankha drunkenly drapes her arm around Braxton’s waist, sloshing ale over both of them, as she slurs “Ooh, Braxton, this is the best ale ever!”
Though a Caydenite, Braxton is not, in fact, drunk, and he wraps a reciprocal arm around Ankha's waist to steady the doctor. He would almost be insulted by her compliment, but he knows better.
"Thank you, my dear, but I am afraid this is merely a replica of the real thing, and not a good one at that. Quality brew takes time, something magic cannot replicate. And even with time, any buffoon can make something containing alcohol, nature does it all the time with rotting fruit. Only a true craftsman can make real mead. I have some better quality drink in my things, but the end goal is to find a place here to start my own brewery. Somewhere with pure water, fields of flowers, and happy bees." He draws his holy symbol and unstoppers it, offering it to Ankha. "This is Viking Blood. Mead, made from honey and cherries. From the Lands of the Linnorm Kings. Made by monks in a monastery in the... uhh... mountains, somewhere, I suppose. It's certainly better than this summoned ale, but still not amazing. Still, it would be a sin for me to allow you to think this other drivel is the best ale ever."
Ku'Hania enjoys the relaxed atmosphere that develops as the celebration unfolds, watching with amusement as Ankha becomes increasingly more...relaxed, though inwardly cringing at some of the questions she overhears her asking the grindylow.
At some point she finds a moment with Ramona amid the festivities. "So, this is going well."
Most of the grindylow aren't very receptive to Ankha's questioning, and they don't even seem to be able to speak or understand Common. Eventually, however, one approaches her as she sits off to the side.
"I am our tribe's brinecaller, Kelpa. Come visit me tomorrow when you are...feeling better, and I will assist you in any way I can." she presses a seashell into the alchemists' hand before moving back into the crowd.
The rest of the impromptu party continues deep into the night and many grindylow and colonists pass out on the beach (Ankha included?) and stay there for the night. Ramona, however, has seemingly managed to keep herself sober and of sound mind.
Before the night is over, she approaches each of you and thanks you for your efforts, promising to reward you when she thinks of something appropriate.
“Oooohh … bloooodd.” Ankha is clearly impressed by the mead within Braxton’s holy symbol. “Viking blood. I need to remember to add that as an ingredient to my next formula. Or maybe blood in general if a Viking isn’t available. I wonder if Kelpa’s blood would do?” She absent-mindedly pats the pocket in which she has stored the seashell, then sways unsteadily and passes out.
Content with the events of the day, Braxton is ready to turn in. At the rate their progressing, he figures they'll identify and rescue (if needed) the lost colonists quite quickly, then he can get on to the real reason he is here.
The next morning begins somewhat loudly, actually, as cries of alarm awaken you from your sleep. A ruckus seems to be occurring in the field behind your chosen house next to the row of houses along the main street.
When you eventually make your way over, you find a handful of colonists standing around the field looking at quite the peculiar sight: a cloud of red mist hangs over the field.
One of the colonists looks over and sees you, recognizing you and calling out.
"You have to do something! Whatever is in that field has Faedwyr!"
Init:
15: Dakari
9: Ankha
7: it
6: Braxton
5: Ku'Hania
“Ooh …” Ankha groans groggily as she slowly stumbles out of bed. She doesn’t remember how she got back to her house from the party at the beach—likely one of her companions carried her in her drunken state. She hadn’t changed her clothes at all—indeed, she apparently slept in her armor—and though her well-made chain shirt is not uncomfortable, she still feels a little stiff and smells a little ripe.
The ongoing commotion forces her into consciousness, and the worry she sees pushes her into alertness. By the time she reaches the field, she is running at a concerned sprint.
“What?!” she exclaims, confused by the unusual crimson mist. “What happened? Where did you last see Faedwyr?” The protective alchemist waits just long enough to hear their answers, then races bravely into the fog, in the direction where the farmer was last seen. Along the way she draws her sling staff, knowing that she’ll need a close-quarters weapon with such limited visibility.
"We were just working on clearing and retilling the fields, and this cloud of mist popped up and he started screaming! I don't know what's in there but you have to go find out!"
"Whoa..., what is that thing??!!" The question emanates from the mouth of a teenaged girl with strawberry-blonde hair--a younger version of the colony's chronicler and cartographer, Perrell Beys. This must be her daughter, Becky. Becky wears a new, unsoiled and unspoiled suit of studded leather armor with a matching backpack, a pristine wooden buckler with the crest of the Bountiful Venture Company emblazoned on its center, and carries an equally unused rapier at her hip and a short bow and quiver slung alongside her pack.
"Well...I've never encountered one in person before, but that red mist looks like it might be...." The teen falls silent though her eyes are wide and you could almost swear you can see the mental wheels turning in her mind as she tries to pick out the mist from the dangers she's catalogued in her young mind.
Becky identifies the mist as coming from something known as a blood maize, an insidious type of plant that is named not for any coloration but it's thirst for blood. It looks like, and masquerades as, a regular cornstalk plant or similar crop vegetable. When prey comes near, however, it lashes out with surprising speed and attacks.
The 'mist' is actually just a cloud of pollen the plant releases, not an actual magical effect.
Init:
9: Ankha
8: Becky
7: it
6: Braxton
5: Ku'Hania
"...the pollen cloud from a plant monster called a blood maize," Becky finishes in a tone that sounds like she's reading an entry out of an encyclopedia. "I'm not quite sure what the pollen might do to us, so I recommend staying out of it, if possible." Though the teen's voice sounds more scholarly than inspirational, you can feel magic in her words as she maps out how to best defeat the plant. Drawing her rapier, the young woman moves southwest into the cornfield, searching for the blood maize she suspects is present...somewhere.
Becky Beys Bardic Performance Rd. 1 of 8: Naturalist +1 (blood maize). The archivist and any allies within 30 feet gain a +1 insight bonus to AC and on attack rolls and saving throws against exceptional, supernatural, and spell-like abilities used by creatures of that specific kind of monster (e.g., frost giants, not all giants or all humanoids).
Becky identifies the blood maize correctly, but it doesn’t seem to notice you. Instead, you hear a fresh round of screams from the man trapped inside the pollen cloud with it. But at least the yelling hasn’t stopped! Yet, anyway.
Braxton stumbles out of their shared housing unit hatless and mono-booted, his sheathed rapier in one hand and a throwing dagger in the other. He stomps angrily towards the sinister red cloud, passing those already assembled, amongst whom is a child for some reason. The child speaks.
"Blood... 'Maze'?! Or 'maize' like shoanti corn? We're being attacked by vegetables?! I TOLD you all the plants here are evil!" The brewmaster feels conflicted; on one hand he is happy he was right about the plants, on the other hand he is sad that someone is being eaten by a corn. Stopping at the edge of mist, he squints and peers into the fog. "Uhm, hello in there! Come to my voice, if you can!" His stance is somewhat relaxed, but his dagger is ready to let loose upon any evil, fake-sugar-producing being he sees.
Awakened by the chaos, Ku'Hania jumps out of bed, taking a brief moment to pull on her gossamer quick runner’s shirt, and grabbing up her spear and buckler before dashing out to join the others in her smallclothes.
Noting Perell's daughter among her companions, she arrives in time to hear her description of the enemy, grateful for her knowledge of such things. Moving near the edge of the mist, she tries to peer into it, seeking the source of the screams.
Throwing both caution and Becky’s warning to the wind, Ankha rushes headlong into the reddish mist, putting the farmer’s safety ahead of her own. She winces and blinks uncomfortably as she enters the pollen, but doesn’t seems any worse for its presence. “Faedwyr! Where are you?!”
Thinking more deeply on the plant monster's pollen cloud, Becky thinks she may recognize a couple of its effects. "Besides obscuring vision, I believe the pollen can temporarily blind any creature within the cloud, so...."
"NO!" she shouts at Ankha a moment too late. Seeing the young adventurer unfazed by the red cloud, Becky simply comments aloud, "Wow--she's brave!"
Ankha finds the blood maize unsurprisingly at the middle of the red cloud of pollen, with Faedwyr unconscious next to it on the ground. As she nears it, the cloud dissipates, finally dispersing in the wind.
Braxton sees the chance to throw his dagger at the plant, but because of how far away it is combined with it being entangled in melee with Ankha, he misses. The maize lashes out at her instead of continuing its assault on the poor man, three vines shooting out from the center mass of the strange plant.
One of the lashes hits her, through her skin and drawing blood with its sharp thorns.
Init:
9: Ankha
8: Becky
7: it
6: Braxton
5: Ku'Hania
As the mist clears and the deadly plant creature skewers Ankha, trying to drain her blood, Ku'Hania charges forward, trying to impale it on her spear.
“Watch out for its vines!” Ankha warns Ku’Hania through gritted teeth. Though the dagger-like thorns have ripped open a painful river of blood down her arm, she is glad to have drawn its attention away from poor Faedwyr.
While the blood maize is occupied with the aquatic half-elf, Ankha maneuvers to a flanking position on the opposite side, ducking and dodging the spiky tendrils as she moves. With the red cloud gone, she switches weapons, opting for a polearm that can reach over the prone farmer now before her, and swings wildly at the plant with all her might. In her haste the blade slams into the ground, closer to the farmer than to her target.
Only after thus 'protecting' Faedwyr does she turn her attention to her own wounds, half-closing her eyes and focusing her breath to heal some of her injuries.
Becky is surprised (but happy) to see Ankha cure some of her wounds on her own--without missing a beat in battle! The young bard opts to bring the fight to the blood maize--or the healing to her allies--from another direction. She moves to the alleyway between corn rows to the left (west?) and double moves to get closer to the plant monster, all the while hoping there aren't move of the dangerous creatures in the cornfield.
"Gah! CORN!" Braxton bellows, slashing wildly at various stalks as he himself stalks forward. "I said from the start all the vegetation needed to burn!" He advances behind Ku'Hania, swiping at the evil plants all around. At the last moment, before backing into the shaman, he spins, deftly ducking past the shoreborn and expertly jabbing his rapier at the evil plant. "Have at thee, second-rate alcohol producer!" He solidly skewers the plant... for all the good it will do.
Unsurprisingly, the plant doesn't hold up that well to sustained physical damage and it collapses into threads of vines as soon as Ku'Hania and Braxton strike it together.
Faedwyr is unconscious but alive, laying at the 'feet' of the maize. A cursory search of the corn field reveals two more of the insidious plants, but it looks like the ankheg larvae got to them before you could.
The other farmers approach carefully, not wanting to disturb any more of the plants.
"Is...is it safe? Are they gone?"
Becky moves to Faedwyr and, though she's obviously embarrassed that he was part of the near-mutiny her mother was involved with, heals the fallen farmer. When that's done, she checks on Ankha as well, healing her if necessary.
“Ooh, thank you!” Ankha gushes appreciatively as Becky’s spell closes her wounds and staunches the bleeding. “It’s, um, Rebecca, right? Aren’t you Perrell’s daughter? Was she the one who taught you magic?”
With Faedwyr healed, the alchemist takes a few moments to secure the corn field, searching for any other dangers before responding to the other farmers. “It should be safe—I don’t see any more of those … blood maize?” she glances questioningly at Becky before continuing. “Ooh, actually there were two more, but the ankheg larvae already took care of them. Hmm … I wonder if they might be trained for pest control?”
With her mind drifting to more scientific endeavors, Ankha squats down and snips several samples from the blood maize, storing them in various vials from her bandolier. “The pollen didn’t seem all that bad … I wonder if it might have any health benefits? Maybe if I mix it with a bit of the ankheg ichor?”
Becky gives a warm, "You're welcome!" followed by two nods at the alchemist's next two question. To the question about who taught her magic, Perrell's daughter seems giddy when she replies, "Actually, it was Ramona who taught me my first spells. She's awesome!"
The young bard uses a prestidigitation spell to separate the red pollen from the brown earth and makes it hover, allowing Ankha to collect it more easily. "I'm afraid I don't even know what an ankheg is, let alone if one can be trained," Becky admits, sounding a bit crestfallen.
Looking toward Ankha, she blurts out, "Would you mind if I watched you at work a bit? I know next to nothing about alchemy, but I'd love to learn at least some of the basics."
Braxton somewhat casually continues slashing at random cornstalks, felling one starchy foe after the next until he is satisfied that the field is safe to burn down.
"And what brought you towards the screaming field, Rebecca? Aren't you a bit young to be running towards trouble?" Braxton puts a hand atop the girls head, judging her height which is, apparently, how he determines age, and grumbles disapprovingly. The grumble hides his silent admiration of her (foolish) bravery. The world can always use more people who try to help others.
Harkening back to the previous night, he advises Ankha that she may wish to be less experimental with the concoctions she fabricates and consumes. "Have we not determined that everything here is dangerous and unhealthy? I can make you a drink if you want; I doubt mixing anything with anything from these terrible creatures can have any benefits."
“Ooh, thanks!” Grateful for Becky’s help in collecting the pollen, Ankha flashes a warm smile at the young woman. “Of course you can watch me work! I know almost nothing about magic myself, so that makes us even. All I know about magic is that I’m not very good at it, and that it’s always temporary, and doesn’t last nearly long enough, though some spells can provide really good inspiration for my recipes. You’re lucky to have found a good teacher.” The alchemist seems a bit wistful and perhaps even jealous.
She becomes particularly animated in her rejoinder to Braxton’s comment. “Ooh, you’re right that many things are dangerous and unhealthy, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t need them! Take breathing for example. We all need air to live. But I’ve discovered that there’s something in air that slowly breaks down our bodies, making us age and eventually die—that’s why we should try to breathe as little as possible, just enough to stay alive. So air itself is bad for us, but we can’t live without it. In the same way there are all sorts of poisons that are actually really helpful if taken in a small dose, or mixed with other ingredients, sometimes other poisons. It’s just a matter of testing and experimentation to get the recipe right.”
Ankha turns and beams at Becky. “Ooh, once we’ve fully established the colony you can help me with my experiments. Maybe we can administer small doses of different mixtures of poison to all the colonists! Think of all the alchemical data we could gather!” Her eyes shine with wild, unbridled enthusiasm.
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"Um...it was the screaming that brought me here," Becky replies to Braxton, frowning a bit when he puts his hand atop her head. She then listens to Ankha's spiel, her eyes widening a bit at some of the young alchemist's theories.
"Well, I've been told by some people to remember to breathe a bit when I start talking about a subject that interests me, so I've got that going for me!" she tells Ankha with a genuine smile. "And I'd love to help you with your research!"
“Excellent!” Ankha grins at Becky’s offer of help. “One recurring project of mine is to learn how to replicate other creatures’ abilities with potions. Alba—Have you met her? She’s the really nice dwarven alchemist who came with us. Shared a bunch of formulae with me. Really friendly. Anyway, she showed me how to use fish scales and fins to make a potion that lets you swim like a fish, for at least a little while at least. We could try to do the same with parts from this blood maize and from the ankheg we killed yesterday and … Ooh! I have a wonderful idea!” The alchemist beams as her thoughts suddenly change track. She gestures to her companions to move away from the gathering of farmers, so that they might speak in private.
“We have a special mission today to find out what happened to the first wave of colonists,” she informs Becky in a low, conspiratorial whisper, “but Dakari is still sick from last night. He was literally green the last time I saw him, so he won’t be able to come, which is really bad because he’s our expert with … let’s say, mechanical devices. Do you have any experience with clockwork mechanisms? Because if you do, would you like to take his place and join us? We could probably use your healing magic too, if you haven’t used it all already.”
Ku' Hania breathes a sigh of relief as the blood maize goes down, grateful for both Becky's help and knowledge, silently taking in the banter of her companions as she does a quick patrol of the general area for any threats.
As the farmers approach she nods, responding to their worried questions. "It should be safe now, at least safe from the plant creature. The other two that were here appear to be killed by the ankheg larvae, which you still need to watch out for until we eradicate them."
As Ankha gestures for them to move off to the side, she gives a nod of agreement with the Alchemist's offer to Becky, her skills would definitely be helpful.
"Are we going to eradicate these ankheg things next?" Becky asks Ku'Hania. Looking to Ankha and Braxton as well, there's an awkward pause before she asks another question: "And what exactly is an ankheg anyways?"
The slightly sullen and annoyed expression on the teen's face suggests that it's difficult or at least uncomfortable for her to not know anything about a subject...but also that her hunger for knowledge is stronger than her pride.
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“Ooh, an ankheg is like a huge bug—an adult is about the size of a horse, except it’s a horse with six legs, tough scales, long antennae, and sharp mandibles, that burrows underground and spits acid. We killed the mother ankheg yesterday, so only the babies should be left. I think the regular colonists should be able to handle those themselves, provided they’re properly prepared. What we’re planning to do next is far more interesting …”
Ankha grins and fishes a tiny contraption out of her backpack, along with an even tinier key, and shows it to Becky. It appears to be a metallic creature, with a spherical body, one oversized eye, and multiple spiderlike legs. “Have you ever seen one of these before? We found it spying on us in the government house.”
Once you're ready to follow the clockwork spy, you wind it up and release it. It immediately flies into the air at about shoulder height and departs, moving north .
About half an hour into the trip, a sound of rushing and running feet hitting the ground echoes from the jungle in front of you. It sounds like a human, but you aren't sure. At least until a moment later, when Lyra (one of the colony's two mapmakers, the other being Perrell) emerges from the trees running full speed towards you.
Breathless, she can barely speak, but manages to get some words out.
"Hey! You've got to help, Milo and I were exploring and mapping the wilderness out here and stumbled into a field of quicksand. Hurry!"
She points back towards where she had come and starts moving that way without waiting for a reply.
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Becky's eye go wide in excitement when Ankha reveals her amazing find. "Ne-e-e-e-e-at," she says in a tone of awe. After examining the clockwork, Becky shakes her head. "I've never seen one in person before, but I'm pretty sure this is a clockwork of some sort. You say it was spying on the new wave of settlers? That's really disturbing, given that the first settlers are all missing!"
"Oh dear! This is dreadful timing! Lyra--do you have some rope? Anyone have some?" It's obvious that the teen wants to follow the flying clockwork, but also feels a duty to protect her fellow colonists.
"Can you give the clockwork new orders?" the bard asks Ankha. Facing the flying spybot, she calls out, "STOP! HALT! FREEZE! Um...HOVER?"
The flustered bard thinks hard before blurting out, "This is a horrible decision, but we've got to make it. This seems to be a one-time-only opportunity to follow the spybot and maybe discover what happened to the first wave, but...we can't just abandon Milo! Tell you what--how about I help Lyra rescue Milo while you three keep following the clockwork? Then Lyra, myself, and hopefully Milo can follow? That might work--it seems that the construct's flying more or less in a straight line...."
Becky regretfully jabs the tip of her rapier into the ground as a marker and takes her bearings while calculating the current trajectory of the clockwork spy. "I shouldn't need that to battle quicksand," she points out. "Right now it'll better serve me as a marker so we can hopefully follow after you all."
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Ankha has her fauchard raised and ready to cut down whoever is thrashing through the jungle, but checks her swing when she sees that it’s one of the colonists. “Lyra!” she exclaims with surprise. “What are you …” She’s about to ask what the mapmaker is doing out here, when she realizes the obvious answer: mapping the island.
Her embarrassment is eased by Becky’s ineffective orders. Turning to the clockwork spy, she intones in a clear, loud voice: “Dakari says ‘Stop’. Dakari says ‘Wait.’” The spybot instantly halts, flies down to the ground, and ceases movement.
“Don’t worry,” she consoles the young bard, “you didn’t know that Dakari reprogrammed it, so you have to give orders in his name. Would have been funny if his name was Simon.”
As Lyra disappears back into the jungle, the alchemist turns to the emergency at hand. “We’d better all go—I don’t have any rope, so we might need to form a human chain.” With that Ankha hurries after Lyra.
As Ankha redirects Becky's flurry of directives, Ku'Hania turns her focus to Lyra, dashing after her, her mind already working on how to deal with the quicksand.
Becky joins the chase after Lyra.