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Essua Day was not in his right head for several days following his adventure in the cave. He found himself tucked into a room at a pathfinder lodge writing out a long letter to his sister. The more he wrote the more he realized it was time he returned home and told the story's of his first adventure to his family in person. The deserved to know the ways that they had helped prepare him for his life as a Pathfinder. They deserved that much. And next time, when he sets out for his next adventure, he sets out in honor of his family, not in spite of them.
Essua Day had followed the party along since the Minotaur fight but had been most inside his own head for the bulk of the march. With Dividesmit's whisper, his attention snaps back to the here and now. "Wassat?" he whispers. "This is the abominations right?" He tucks himself into a nook in the cavern right behind Dividesmit and draws his Rapier.
There was darkness, and then there was whistling. A sustained, piercing whistle, like a tea kettle. That's what first got Essua Day's attention. But there wasn't a tea kettle. There was only the ground, and the taste of iron in his mouth. He worked his mouth, trying to get a feel for why it was so dry and sticky. The whistle built up into pressure on his temples as he realized the sound of the kettle was coming from his own head. And then the word "Janira." Essua Day's eyes pop open, and he sees the blue sky above him take shape. The sun is warm, it feels good on his arms and on his belly. He notices that his tunic is wet, and sticky. He sits up carefully and delicately. He sees Dividsmit watching and nods appreciatively. At his feet is a dead minotaur. He sees his friends arrayed around the battle field. He sees a couple of them surrounding the body of Janira the pathfinder. He sees the sad look in Amelia Rose's face when he looks up from Janira's body to her face. "Just like daddy's shop," he croaks. He stands carefully, unsure of his feet at first, but he quickly gets his legs back. He picks up his weapon, and walks over to Amelia and Janira. Amelia hands him a vial and he takes it, and downs it gratefully.
"She's gone, huh?" he says. He unbundles a little packet of herbs from his belt, and places some at key points on Janira's body. "It may be too late, but we honor her spirit by offering her corpse these herbs anyway," he says.
"All is as it must be, I guess," he says. "I vote we finish helping the Gillman."
Essua's eyes go wide and the color runs out of his face as the Minotaur's damaged battle-axe strikes him. His mouth falls open, and he considers several witty or funny things he could say, but the only sound that comes out of his mouth is a wet, gagging burp. His eyes roll back in his head and he collapses where he stands,
A small trickle of blood rolls down his chin.
Essua watches the halfling fall and then sees Dividesmit fly across between him and the minotaur, a flurry of feathers and claws and fangs. He is tempted to cry out. He is tempted to run away. He is tempted to fall off the log. He curses the hubris that made him think he didn't need to carry a ranged weapon. Time slows to a crawl as his mind takes it all in. Essua doesn't carry a ranged weapon because he prefers to feel his blade cutting the flesh of his victims. He learned cutting up cattle, after all. He can pinpoint all the places on a cow that cause instant death. Aha! Ideas snap into place like magnets as Essua realizes that a minotaur is a lot like the beef that he's been cutting up at his father's shop for all these years. Hell, judging from the ragged look of this beast, he's felled tougher, meaner cattle in his time. This gives him burst of confidence; especially needed after teetering on the log like a dope on his way across the river. There will be no running away today. Maybe some bow training in the future, but for today, this glorified cow is about to taste Day family steel. Time returns to normal speed. He dashes around Nigiri and moves as close as he can () then stops, and calls out to the minotaur. "Ok, Fedinand," he jeers. "You're real tough, beating up a halfling. Why don't you try taking on someone your own size." He thumps his chest. "I am a butcher's son. I've carved peices of meat bigger than you into pies. You think you're tough? Try me, you cow." He drops into a defensive stance, daring the Minotaur to engage him. OOC GM OPTIONS :
Essua picks up his dagger from the centipede's corpse and moseys into the room where D. killed the Mite. "I feel like we should probably have chased them," He says. "With all the little loops and pockets in the tunnel we just came through, I'm guessing they've already got their ambush planned out." As he's speaking he's cleaning the centipede ichor from his knife. His mind wanders briefly. I wonder what kind of meat you can get out of a centipede like that? I wonder if Dad would even know how to carve it? "Thing is," he continues, "Not sure how a trio of blue mites qualifies as 'Troublesome beasts'." I'm guessing they're off to get their big brother. "I am, however, prepared to trust our falcon friend here's perceptive abilities. With his eyes, I think we can proceed cautiously. I'm willing to take the vanguard, if you guys are game."
Essua stands up and shakes off the floor dust. He draws his rapier. What the hell are these blue guys now? he thinks.
"Mites!" He snarls. "Blue ones! He drops into a defensive stance and motions for the fighters behind him to pass through if they want to. "We've got to get out this bottleneck!" he grunts at the folks behind him.
Essua hears the fight begin, takes a step out of the nook where he was hiding and slips into range behind Divdesmit as he draws his throwing dagger. As he moves down the corridor he quickly assesses the situation in his mind.
He narrows his eyes and assesses the beast's carapace. He finds the spot most likely to to do the most damage and quickly calculates the likelihood of successfully flinging a knife in there. Darn it, he thinks,With Divdesmit in the way, I probably can't get a clear enough shot to go for the kill, but doesn't hurt, really, to take a pot shot at the beast. He flicks his little throwing dagger toward the writhing beast.
If that hits:
Essua drops prone, in hopes that he can be out of the way of any other range attacks that could be coming from behind.
Seeing Amelia slide down a side alley, Essua ducks into a pocket on the opposite side and strains to listen to the voices to see if he can make out any details, or get a feel for how many unique creatures there might be. He holds up his hand in the "Wait! Listen" Gesture for the benefit of those coming along behind him who may not have picked up on the voices. Essua attempts perception:
Essua scampers out of the pool and chases after Divdesmit. He stops for a second, though, and reaches into the little city, and picks up the older copper coins he'd selected earlier. I bet these are lucky, he thinks, slipping it into his pocket.
He briefly notices that the party has selected the oposite of his recomendation for which set of monsters to tackle first. It's probably for the best, he thinks, I mean, given my current run of luck.
Essua sucks in enough air to find his voice, regains his composure and thanks Aabaal for his help. Then he digs into his pockets. He pulls out two copper pieces and leans them on the edge of the little city. "I got next, I guess," he says, "Any of you have any ideas? He stares dumbly at the little city, not sure of his next move.
If he sees any coins in the city anywhere:
He picks up the first two coins of similar size and color that he sees. He shows them to the party. "These look pretty good! He grins like an idiot, and then closes his fist around them. Then he smiles, and looks at the party again.
Regardless of the outcome:
He leaves all the coins there, including the two he placed.
He turns to the party, still grinning.
Essua wades respectfully up to the little city and pokes at nearest frog with the flat of one of his daggers. "Go'wan!" He mutters at a frog. He waits to see what the frog does. He taps another one. He takes a step back and says to the party. "Hey guys, from up here, this little city kind of looks like ..."
"... something I've seen before, but I can't quite put my finger on it."
If I know anything about frogs,Essua thought...
... its that frogs love fire. Maybe I could suggest that we build a fire nearby and the frogs will all, naturally, just come hopping over to it. Essua begins to open his mouth to suggest this, but decides to wait to see if any of the rest of the party had suggestions. "What about you, my Katapesh friend?" he asks of Abaal. "Do they have frogs where you come from? How do you deal with them?"
As the gillman drops back on his knees over the water, Essua feels a flood of relief that Amelia and Reis had managed to calm the situation down. That was too close, Essua thinks. I nearly let my own prejudices get in the way of seeing what this gillman was really up to here. What if he'd attacked? Would I have killed him? Would he have killed me? What kind of a Pathfinder would I be if on my first trip into the wilds, I kill the first exotic thing I stumble across? He reflects on Nigari's first words to him at the Pig's Paunch, how she assumed he was looking for a fight. He realizes she was probably right. He silently vows to try to be better about seeing that sort of thing. Then he thinks maybe he should say something to the Gillman, by way of an apology. Then he thinks better of it. What would he say that would make it better? Then he turns to Nigari, who, he supposes, he's come to think of something of a friend and asks: So, what are we going to do? Seems to me this ritual stuff is more up your alley, right?
Essua steps around Amelia, softening his demeanor, and making room for Reis Sier to approach. Gillmen. Ugh. Gillmen. he thinks, looking up and down the expressive little man's frame. He remembers the Gilmen who would come into his parents shop. They were from a river-bound tribe which had evolved a resistance to drying out, so it was not unusual for them to take the two day trip into town to trade, his father had told him. He had asked his father why he he would always buy up the gillmen's fish when he knew full well he'd inevitably have to throw most of it away. His father told him stories about how the gillmen people had lost much, and that it was a kindness to take pity on them. But Essua mostly remembered that they had a vaguely unpleasant smell and that the gillmen traders visits always corresponded with a few days of eating fish congee so rubbery that even the Day family spices could just barely make it palatable.
Essua Day takes a non-confrontational position in the front of the party, in case he's got to jump in to protect them. "Easy, Gilly," says Essua Day, holding his hands up in what he hopes in a non threatening gesture. "We don't want trouble."
Too late, Essua wonders if he should have maybe kept his mouth shut. He tries a different tact. "Did you see the chalk that Divdesmit gave me?" He starts to babble. "Crazy, right? Chalk! Here in a dungeon. Like we're going to school!" Essua chuckles a little, and then abruptly stops. "Seriously, Gilly". His eyes suddenly turn cold and steely. "We don't. Want. Trouble." He draws each word out, punctuating each one with a studied calm, never taking his eye off the gillman, never blinking, staring him down.
"I'll be honest, guys. I didn't think there would be so much riddling on this kind of adventure." Essua shrugs and grins sheepishly. "I'm not sure what you all mean by small city, really. But I have some coins you all can put into the little city. Whatever that means. Or I'll chase frogs, or grind up rocks or whatever. It's cool." Essua does that thing where a person leans their head from side to side and makes a horrible cracking sound in the vertebrae in his neck, and then looks at his colleagues in the cavern expectantly Then he looks around for some materials he could grind up to use as a dye or paint.
Essua Day makes a quick sketch of the inscriptions in his journal. The drawings are embarrassingly childish, but no less embarrassing than the doodles and misspellings that dot the rest of his notes and observations. As he works the images in his notebook, he churns through recollections in his mind, hoping to make a connection between these images and something he's seen before.
As if he were suddenly inspired by the muses, it all clicks for him: "This one looks like a ducky!" he announces proudly.
if it is:
Essua shouts down the pit to Abaal: "Hey, let's hoist that plank up here so we can walk across without climbing down into the pit. Not so much to get in, but I'm thinking it might be handy to be able to get out quickly later. " i wouldn't blame Abaal if he thought I'm delaying because I was afraid to climb, the way I've been acting so far on this adventure. he thinks to himself. If it is not: "Are we all climbing down and over then?"
Essua is awed by the wisdom emanating from the stoic fighter. He quietly vows to himself to try to be more like that. "Woah..." he says in slackjawed astonishment as the bird man transforms and leaps across the cavern. He stands transfixed in awe as Nigari creeps around him and peers over the edge of the pit.
Wait! He thinks, remembering something he read once about Gillmen.
"Gillmen have this weird dependence on water. This is probably connected to that. I bet this fills up under certain conditions.
Essua studies the walls of the pit, looking at the obvious cut marks and scrapes made by tool-bearing people. Or creatures. Or Gillmen. Or whatever. And the little bundle at the center piques his attention, too. He decides its probably a trap. He has no reason to decide this, but he decides it anyway. "Um. Why do you think they dug this trap?" asks Essua. "I mean. I assume its a trap. Somebody made this pit for something. One of you brave fellows should check for traps, just to be sure." He grins at the party after he speaks as if he had just said the single most clever thing, ever. He holds his eyebrows arched in anticipation of the accolades he is sure are about to come.
Angry Minotaur! Awesome! Essua thinks as he startles at the beast's appearance. He begins to reach for the hilt of his sword, but stays his hand. Something isn't adding up. Time slows down as he runs through his options, rapid fire in his head:
Essua curses the time he spent reading Dungeoneering Quarterly, and daydreaming about underground battles and skills. Then he curses the time he spent not learning about different creatures and races and girls and practicing social grace. Essua makes his mind up and ducks for cover, heading for the cave. Godspeed, my friend!Essua imagines himself shouting, but as he leaps, his mouth betrays him; he finds himself grunting: "Mosquito!"
Shaking it off, Essua continues along the path. . He bravely takes his first step along the path, catches on the root of a tree, and promptly stumbles. He follows along behind Amelia Rose, bouncing off the bramble and generally crashing his way along the path. Maybe Dad was right? he thinks. Leave the adventuring to adventure people, he used to say. We're a family that stays together, son.
Essua's followed Janira like a puppy dog along throughout the day's travel, half-infatuated with the historical tour, half-infatuated merely by the fact that she's a full-fledged pathfinder. Walking across the countryside stills him, he finds his tongue less tied and the rhythm of the party's gait gives him a chance to rattle through his thoughts. This is what it's like to be an adventurer he muses. Wind at my ... whatever direction the wind is coming from, and the sun overhead. Passing through fields littered with history.. where countless adventurers have gone before. After the first night's camp, he was up early and remained at Janina's heels as the party resumed the march. And then the swarm appeared.
Aha! he thinks. Kortos Mosquitos, common to this area! He prepares to announce to the party that they should be sure to spread out to make it hard for the insects to attack, but hears Deviņi shout the same thing, then transform into some kind of giant cat, and fling a flask at the swarm. Crapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrap. he thinks, realizing he is completely without any gear capable of harming these creatures. Play it cool, Essua. Play it cool. He watches others in the party throw magic spells and prepare flasks at the swarm, delighting as Janira's flask drives the swarm away. He hears her announce that "It is smart to be prepared for anything! Very well done, pathfinders!" and decides to try to cover for his lack of preparedness by echoing her sentiment with a rousing, "Yeah." Maybe nobody noticed that I actually didn't do anything during that fight.
No. They probably noticed
Oblivious to any meaning beyond fellowship that Nigari's arm on his shoulders my indicate, Essua's eyes roll up to the top of his head, as if he were reading a inventory sheet written on the inside top of his skull. "So, I have 10 torches, and some flint and a bunch of rope and this grappling hook and some other stuff in my Adventure Kit," he recites. "I also have my family spice kits, so i can totally take over cooking duties. I know enough first aid to be helpful out of battle, but I don't really have any way to heal up my own self." He blushes a little. "So, yeah. You know. I've never healed myself. I mean, that's gross, right? I mean, not gross. But, you know. I mean, no judgment, right?" He blushes a little more. "Um, I mean. Yeah. I might need healing some times, but I'm totally ready to go whenever you all are." Essua grimaces and clenches his fists. Shutupshutupshutupshutup "So, I mean.... Um. Let's hit the trail." The silence lingers again as he looks from eye to eye of his fellow adventures. "How do we get there?"
Essua turns to Janeira, who he's not 100% sure is really tracking the conversation and says: "I am Essua Day. I am very excited to be at your service." He considers saying more, but given how his last attempt at introducing himself went, he decides against it. Instead, he folds his hands together in front of him. Gets uncomfortable, unfolds them. Then puts them up by his chest, decides that probably looks weird, lets them drop down by his side, well now they're just dangling there, folds them together again, leaves them there, and rocks back on his heels a bit. He steels a glance over at Nigiri, and another over at the stoic man with the exotic grimace, across to the bird-man-bear-wolf man, and then quickly mets the eyes of the blond elven woman. Then, not sure what else to do, he exhales loundly and obviously. So... he says. Shall we hit the shoppes before we head out, or what?
Essua's eyes bulge just a little as he comes face to face with a nagaji for the first time. He swallows hard and takes the hand offered him awkwardly, unsure if he should take it in his and do one of those suave hand kisses like in the adventure stories. He opts instead for a sincere hand shake. "Erg...um..." he stammers, My name is dontsaysnakedontsaysnakedontsaysnake
"Snake." CRAP! "Essua! I mean. My name is Essua. Hi." There is then awkward quiet. But only for a half a second. "I'm not looking for a fight. I mean, I am a fighter, but yeah. I mean, but you can't loose a fight you didn't pick, right? But I get by as a swordsman. I do a little healing, my family recipe. I've never seen anybody with skin like yours, you know. It's really striking. Beautiful, really. He realizes he's still pumping Nigari's hand, and drops it limply. "I just, you know," he pauses for a deep breath, "I'm super excited to have a chance to prove myself as a Pathfinder. I've been dreaming about this forever. That'll show my dad that there's more to life than running a butcher's shop, for sure." He pauses for another breath, and it dawns on him that he may have been prattling on. "So I'm super glad to meet you. Is what I'm saying. Um. All of you." Essua grins earnestly, and hopes for the best. Maybe I didn't make a total fool out of myself, he hopes.
Essua pulls at his fingers on his left hand with his right in sequence from large to small. *pop!* *pop!* *pop!* *pop!* He switches hands and does the same thing, this time in reverse up his right hand: *pop!* *pop!* *pop!* *pop!* His mind continues to chew on the information that's been able to recall. "So, lemme get this straight," he says, "We're going down to the Kobar Foothills to map out some caves, find some, ugh, gillmen, and try not to get killed." A wry grin creeps across Essua's face after he voices this; the light from the pub fireplace dancing in his eyes. "What are we waiting around here for?" Essua stands up and hoists his pack up onto his shoulders while simultaneously dropping a copper piece onto the table for the barmatron. "One thing that bothers me though...and this might be a better question for Janira, but what did she mean when she said 'as my confirmation stretched on?'"
Essua Day pushes his hair back from his forehead with the flat of his palm and exhales. He'd imagined this day in his head so many times. Confirmation! A Pathfinder at last! But Gillmen? Really? Gillmen? Sure, goblins or giant spiders, that was what so many young Pathfinders chronicled about in their confirmation, occasionally a bugbear or kobold... But Gillmen? Why'd it have to be Gillmen?, Essua huffed. I'm not even sure what Gillmen would be doing in the Kortos foothills, let alone going underground there. Essua concentrates for a moment, thinking his way through all he can remember about Gillmen and the Kortos Foothills, looking for anything that might lend insight.
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