Kisaiya draws her scabbard and nestles into her battle stance. ”Stand down now, whatever you are! We’ll kill you where you stand otherwise!”
HP: 10/13
AC: 18/12/16
Saves: F4/R2/W4
Hero Points: 1
Smite Evil Used: 0/1
Spells/Effects Active: Shield Gauntlet Style
[ dice]1d20+5[/dice] to hit;
[ dice]1d6+3[/dice] damage.
Rory mounts as he draws his weapon and Storm backs off for a clearer shot. Kisaiya demoralizes the creature as she tries a form of diplomacy!
- - -
Alas diplomacy doesn’t work, though it is demoralized. The faceless one slashes feebly at Mukluk in the door.
His multi-pronged tongue lashes out at Mukluk, but can't find purchase as he sees the prongs are sharp - and hollow to gather the fresh blood...
I'm informed that I was incorrect. The grab succeeds against the flat footed Mukluk!
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"Mukluk get out of there!"
”I CAN’T MOVE! IT’S GOT ME GOOD! HELP! I’M GOING TO BE MURDERT!” Mukluk, grappled, flails.
Round 1
Mukluk, unable to move, draws his pick and feebly tries to defend his face from being eaten, and his body from being murdert.
to hit;
cold iron piercing damage
[ dice=Trepanator]1d20+1[/dice] to hit;
[ dice=]1d6[/dice] cold iron piercing damage
[ dice=MuleBite]1d20+2[/dice] touch to hit;
[ dice=Divine]1d4[/dice] damage
[ dice=MuleKicks]1d20+2[/dice] touch to hit;
[ dice=Force]1d4[/dice] damage
AC: 12/12/10 + 1 w/shield
Fort/Ref/Will: +1/+2/+6
HP: 7/7
Focus: 0/3
Hero Points: 0/3
Speed: 20'
Luck? 0/1 used
Mule bites: 0/7 used
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Durgan attempts to strike around Mukluk and hit the strange creature with his cold iron battle-axe.
He then steps back to make room for Rory or Kisaiya.
Kisaiya attempts to slam past the monstrosity.
Mukluk stabs at his tormentor but misses wide of the mark. Durgan through cover (partial) and with the advantage of the grapple - plants one on the faceless one! Bypassing its DR, the creature shudders in pain as Rory bounds into the room, toppling the exhausted stalker to the floor! Kisaiya strides on through unhindered.
The faceless, but not tongueless, stalker attempt to hold the grapple!
His darting tongue - tongues really though they resolve to one root - finds purchase with Mukluk's skin. The sharp protrusions tear at the flesh and the creature slurps up the blood. Mukluk's blood.
The creature also stands, provoking from Rory, Storm, and Kisaiya. It looks worryingly at the inbound attacks, but hopes for the best. He needs to stand.
Round 2
Mukluk continues to flail and tries again to pick at the stalker.
to hit;
cold iron piercing damage
[ dice=Trepanator]1d20+1[/dice] to hit;
[ dice=]1d6[/dice] cold iron piercing damage
[ dice=MuleBite]1d20+2[/dice] touch to hit;
[ dice=Divine]1d4[/dice] damage
[ dice=MuleKicks]1d20+2[/dice] touch to hit;
[ dice=Force]1d4[/dice] damage
AC: 12/12/10 + 1 w/shield
Fort/Ref/Will: +1/+2/+6
HP: 7/7
Focus: 0/3
Hero Points: 0/3
Speed: 20'
Luck? 0/1 used
Mule bites: 0/7 used
Durgan moves back in and resumes the attack with another battle-axe blow.
Kisaiya slashes with her sharpened scabbard across the stalker’s back. ”Let go of him!”
Mukluk connects this time, further wounding his grappler as the tongue closes in for a second bite. Durgan isn’t messing about either as he brings the battle-axe down. Rory connects a few times, and Storm brings the creature back down to his knees - just in time for Kisaiya to deal the mortal blow.
And like that, the faceless stalker crumbles to the ground in a heap of elastic flesh. It's suckers drop from Mukluk and the cabin becomes deathly silent.
You’re currently in the main room which features a settee and several somewhat damaged potted plants. It looks like maybe this wasn’t the first fight to be held in this room.
Mukluk regains his feet and composure, no longer crying for Moose and pleased that the party was able to protect him. He wipes off the tonguey wetness as he gathers himself.
When he's calm again, he'll move over to drive his cold iron pick into the not-halfling's skull.
piercing damage
"Now who's murdert!?" he askes the clearly dead stalker.
And then he leans against the wall to recover more of wits.
"Wasn't expecting that, not at all. Wasn't expecting to be eaten like that. No, no, no."
"What has become of Walthus? And why would this creature impersonate a halfling hermit - unless it was him all along?"
Durgan searches the room for clues, secret doors, severed halfling heads, or anything else that might explain what is going on.
Durgan finds little of interest in his search. There are many rooms, and perhaps they shall yield more clues. The only thing he knows is that there was a scuffle here - and he saw that already.
Finishing the stalker, the group turns to search for Walthus. The ground floor is pretty straightforward - for the most part. The northern room is a kitchen/dining room with an adjacent pantry. The furniture is sturdy, small, and clearly built for one.
The small chamber in the middle of the house contains several wicker cages containing sparrows, mice, and other small live critters. It doesn’t make much sense until you open the southern door. This leads to a garden - open to the sky, but walled in with 10’ high brick walls. There are three rather substantial snakes here, who hiss and charge at the opening of the door. However, you can close it and thanks to opposable thumbs, keep it closed against the slithering mass.
Let me know if you head upstairs or search anything in particular more thoroughly - or even attack the snakes to see what they might guard.
"That's a lot of snakes? Why'd it hafta be snakes?" Mukluk says, closing the door. "Do you think we can lure the snakes out the front door? They might go that way if that's where we put the food, or maybe that's even more inhumane than just killing them. I dunno, seems cruel to hurt the snakes, but that stalker seemed to have snake bites on him, so it might be that Walthus was in there and they definitely tangled."
Mukluk looks for a table or some plywood to block off the snakes from going upstairs, figuring the party could close every good but the front door and see if the snakes want to chase the food outside.
Kisaiya flicks the blood off her bladed scabbard with a single motion before moving forward carefully. ”Let’s see, maybe there was a fight in here with tracks.” She begins trying to read scene, only to immediately lose her focus due to the snakes.
She follows Rory up the stairs, keeping an eye open for any trace of the erstwhile owner.
"It's quite a trick to train snakes as guard dogs. I didn't think they were that smart, nor that consistently aware when not hungry. This Walthus fellow must be an exceptional animal trainer."
Durgan will search the kitchen and pantry more thoroughly. A root cellar could be a hiding place, for example.
The upper floor is, if it can be believed, even less interesting. There is a supply room - containing tools, hunting supplies, and spare weapons, including three handaxes, a longbow, a few dozen arrows, and two Small suits of leather armor. There’s a guest room of all things, though it looks unused, and what must be Walthus’s bedroom. It is cozy and so full of stuff you can’t quite see the far wall.
But no Walthus. Not even in the big short wardrobe.
Mukluk moves upstairs to support Rory while still considering how to block off the stairs so the snakes have a way to get out the front door.
I forgot to mention it earlier, sorry. Durgan does find a panel that slides in the pantry to a small space under the floor where it's cooler. But the only 'loot' is a half-keg of beer, untapped.
Upstairs, the roof slopes down half way on the second floor. That makes it a bit tight for the taller folks near the edges by the wall, and extra tall in the middle of the building. But no attic.
Rory conducts a casual search and doesn't find anything.
Mukluk puts on his shield and is ready to join Rory in opening a door.
”Alright, Roresy, I got your back. Let’s do this.”
Rory, not content with a simple search, picks a corner and starts working the walls carefully. A few minutes without luck go by until he finds a secret panel! It’s well hidden, but opens easily.
You see a familiar looking halfling. He’s quite the mess - disheveled, covered in fresh but dried blood, and clearly frightened half out of his wits. He’s crouching in a small well padded hidey-hole behind the secret panel, ”Please don’t hurt me!” he cries out as he hides his face and waives a hand axe at you (somewhat expertly you might note).
When he’s not immediately attacked, he peers an eye in your direction and adds, ”Wait, there’s more than one of you. And none of you have… the tongue…” His hand goes to a fresh injury, less than a day old, which looks very similar to Mukluk’s. ”Who are you, and where’s Volorog?”
"Who is Volorog?" Mukluk says, offering stinkface to the halfling waving his axe around like a writ of prima notca.
"Like Roresy here said, the Sheriff of Sandpoint sent us. What is going on with you?"
"Was Volorog the creature that took your appearance? We have slain it. It attacked you, but you were able to escape? Or did it intentionally leave you alive?"
"Volorog, the faceless stalker. The guy with the tongue. Well, I think it's a guy anyway. I didn't really check, and he is a bit of a shape changer."
The halfling crawls out of the hole and climbs to his feet.
”I’m Walthus Proudstump, very glad to meet you. You aren’t Chellish by any chance are you? You don’t look it, but it’s been a harrowing day and I’m feeling quite drained yet. Damn tongue.”
"Was Volorog the creature that took your appearance? We have slain it. It attacked you, but you were able to escape? Or did it intentionally leave you alive?"
”Yeah, I escaped whilst my snakes kept him busy. Good creatures snakes. Very friendly.”
Raising an eyebrow as the disheveled halfling asks they not hurt him, Rory steps back near Storms saddle and pulls out a piece of dried jerky. Extending the jerky to his fellow halfling, "I'm Rory, you look like you could eat." Adding, "Are the snakes in the garden your pets?" He nods at Storm, "Storm's mine." Seeing the jerky and hearing his name, Storm moves a little closer wagging his tail, hoping the jerky was for him.
He munches on the jerky, as it was offered. ”It has been a while,” he admits. ”Totally my pets. Snakes are misunderstood I tell you!” he grins knowing full well what his 'pets' are like.
He’ll guide you back downstairs and, after kicking the stalker as you pass, manage a ‘bit’ of food for everyone in good halfling fashion. He even taps the half keg of beer for everyone’s enjoyment - though it’s thick and more food than alcohol, quite hoppy.
”So. The sheriff sent you huh? What does the good sheriff want?” He munches on an excellent pumpernickel roll, slathered in butter of course, and washes it down with a slug of beer.
Kisaiya offers to help with the food, insisting even because of the horrible circumstances Mr. Proudstump had just endured.
"The goblins in the area have stolen fireworks. We are looking to take care of them before they are able to do much damage. The sheriff suggested we check in with you, both to make sure you are safe and in case you had any information of help." She savors the pumpernickel roll and heavy, thick beer.
"Yeah, what she said. Sheriff said you could help," Mukluk agrees, putting away his pick and shield. "You didn't happen to say *why* the stalker came here, did you? And how long you've been trapped in that hidden nook? What was the plan there?" Mukluk has questions.
Durgan thinks about the issue.
"Are Faceless Stalkers known to associate with goblins? Do you all think there is any connection, or is this an entirely different matter? We have very little information to go on, I suppose."
"The goblins in the area have stolen fireworks. We are looking to take care of them before they are able to do much damage. The sheriff suggested we check in with you, both to make sure you are safe and in case you had any information of help."
”Why I’d be glad to help you. Goblins need to be corrected from time to time or they get delusions. Why give me a day and I’ll be right as rain, ready to escort you personally to their lair.”
”I won’t even take a share - goblins tend not to have much anyway. I’ll get the sheriff to front me a little cash for the effort. That’ll do fine.”
"You didn't happen to say *why* the stalker came here, did you? And how long you've been trapped in that hidden nook? What was the plan there?" Mukluk has questions.
”Oh Volorog has been in the swamp for a few months now. It was getting to where I thought maybe he accepted his place here. Apparently not. Trying to take my place was he.”
”I figured he wouldn’t find me in less than a day, I got some sleep. Let his nastiness get out of my system a bit. Got my axe, though I’m better with my bow. You surprised me though - I wasn’t quite awake yet!” he chuckles, his axe still at the ready in a loop on his belt.
Durgan thinks about the issue.
"Are Faceless Stalkers known to associate with goblins? Do you all think there is any connection, or is this an entirely different matter? We have very little information to go on, I suppose."
”No, I shouldn’t think so. Chameleons that they are, I imagine they’re loners. Volorog certainly was while he was here. I’d hear about him from time to time, but he kept to himself, stayed off the trails, and hunted on his own. Likely goblins in fact.”
”I doubt they’d work together.”
"So what do you say? You can camp here - you won't all fit in the guest room. But we'll have a roaring breakfast tomorrow and get to the goblins after."
Kisaiya smiles, glad that everyone is fine despite the drama. ”I do not wish to impugn your own abilities or to be inhospitable, but I would be happy to take care of breakfast so that you can rest and recuperate. It is my trade, and I would be happy to ply it as thanks for letting us stay here.”
Mukluk scrunches up his face as Walthus speaks because some of what he’s saying doesn’t make a lick of sense. But, since Mukluk has sense, he doesn’t say a thing lest he get murdert by that wicked axe or bow.
”Yeah, uh huh,” he murmurs, keeping his doubts to himself. He will eat and enjoy the food and beer, however, he is no fool in that regard (just in many others).
He will help clean the place up when the fooding is done, trying to earn his keep while others prepare food.
"If you are escorting us to the goblin lair, then healing you would be an exchange of services - not needing payment, but also not charity. And so in keeping with the precepts of Abadar. Shall I heal your injuries?"
Durgan will Channel to heal if requested.
Kisaiya smiles, glad that everyone is fine despite the drama. ”I do not wish to impugn your own abilities or to be inhospitable, but I would be happy to take care of breakfast so that you can rest and recuperate. It is my trade, and I would be happy to ply it as thanks for letting us stay here.”
"That's very generous ma'am. I'll show you around the rather simple kitchen, and you can cook what you like."
"But in the morning. My head still hurts too much from last night's fight. I need to get some sleep. Help yourselves to whatever."
"Walthus, do you have a waffle iron?" He reaches into the saddlebags, pulling out a bottle, "I have maple syrup!"
”No but I do have some excellent flap-jack mix for pancakes. We’ll use your syrup, you can be assured.”
"If you are escorting us to the goblin lair, then healing you would be an exchange of services - not needing payment, but also not charity. And so in keeping with the precepts of Abadar. Shall I heal your injuries?"
”Well that’s right kind of you. My injuries go deeper, but I do have a few scrapes too.” Mostly he’s suffering from con damage, but a channel or two will heal some of his wounds, and I think someone else was wounded too.
The next morning comes with fog from the marshlands and poor visibility. ”Won’t hit a thing in this mess.” Walthus grumbles as breakfast is made. ”But it will trouble the enemy more than we I expect even with that.”
It’s Gozran 3, a Moonday, and breakfast is a fine affair, with everyone chipping in, and Kisaiya at the helm.
The fog hasn’t lifted by the time the dishes are cleared. Walthus is ready in his leather armor, a brace of handaxes, and what really is a fine looking composite longbow (MW). He still looks a little peaked, so he hangs back in the rear while the rest of you head out into the swamp.
”Now remember, we’ll just go back the way you came, then we’ll go down the Old Coast Road east of the marsh, and hook back in on the Old Fish Trail. It’s an easy walk.” He shows you a decent map of the swamp, and indicates a few locations of note.
Let me know your plans as you head out.
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While Mr. Proudstump may not have a waffle iron, Kisaiya does. She prepares a hot batch of waffles in the morning with a touch of her usual spice mixture (cinnamon, ginger, clove, nutmeg, and long pepper) and a drizzle of honey in the batter to complement the maple syrup. Should Mr. Proudstump not have coffee on-hand, she happily provides, also having her own coffee pot if needed.
She is quite pleased with how the results turn out. She makes the waffles in front of the others, passing each out as they finish in the iron so they can be enjoyed hot. During the whole process, she offers little conversation, focusing intently on the quality of her work.
She looks over the map and notes the location of the Licktoads. ”They are close as the crow flies, but the roads would take us far afield. How easy would it be to take the direct route?”
She looks over the map and notes the location of the Licktoads. ”They are close as the crow flies, but the roads would take us far afield. How easy would it be to take the direct route?”
”Oh, I know these trails are twisty and long, but they’re far superior to the swimming, wading, struggling with underbrush. Oh the list goes on it does. Best to stick to the trails really. Plus, in the underbrush the goblins will have an advantage due to their small size.” He suggests taking the trails, but looks to the group for a decision.
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"I ain't so good at being fleet of feet, or full of float," Mukluk opines with flexibility. "I'm just telling you what I am. I'm good on the solid road, less good through the muck. Now if Moose were here, he'd tell you the same thing, but with Moose, things might be easier. If you want to go back and get Moose, I'd not complain, but he might. He might complain a lot because I done promised him time for nut picking and grazing and we ain't done that yet. So maybe that isn't the best way to go about things...as they are, I'd prefer the roads, with Moose, or the road without Moose, and *then* cutting straight across."