For Ruuz:
Satisfied with his conversation with the changling, he pulls out his coin pouch and drops 1 platinum and 15 gold pieces into Ruuz's hand. "For your potion set. Let's hope if I need a healing potion next time, I have time to drink it. On second thought, let's hope for no next time." Once again he gives his patented toothy grin.
Ruuz looks around the table and looks back to Beren, "I know we all have our own little projects but if you need help I think that is what this little gathering is all about. Joining together to see if we can live a little longer and hopefully make some money while we are at it."
Beren nods his head in thanks. "I appreciate your companionship. Tomorrow, I will explain my ordeal. Tonight lets enjoy this fine meal and excellent company." He raises his glass in a toast.
"Yes, indeed - I shall hold you to it." Rokko also deposits 25gp.
“To us!” toasts Valessa, looking around the table at her companions. “Hmmm, do you think we need a name? I suppose a uniform would be taking things too far…”
“Well, I suppose Beren’s gambit will be our first ‘official’ mission. And then what say we meet with Tessik, see what he has to offer. I am really curious as to what that Sahuagin attack was all about.”
Valessa also agrees to Ruuz’ proposal, chipping in 25 gold to the venture.
|
Even having gathered good directions, it takes a while to find Muskor dur Rast. The place is set well away from the core of the Stormreach community, near the waters edge, but far enough up the beach to be nestled inside the tree line.
At first impression, the place is dilapidated, sitting on stilts, hanging just over fetid swampy water. Overhead, the trees hang over the building, nearly obscuring the rapidly darkening sky.
The building itself is squat and round, with a conical thatched roof turned black by soot and mold. From the very peak, a continuous stream of thick viscous smoke burbles, and rolls down the roof. There are few real windows, though dim torchlight can be seen oozing through the cracks between planks.
The faintest of breezes drags the smell of undercooked meat, as though blood had been poured on the bar-b-q flame. Otherwise, the smell is stagnant water, and swamp slime. If you have had to pleasure of visiting the Shadow Marches, you can see what a good job they have done of emulating them here, a continent away.
Leading to the front door, a long and crooked bridge is made of split and lashed logs. You aren’t entirely sure that you could make the crossing safely, and wonder how the drunken orcs manage to come and go in this place.
From the root of the bridge, a secondary and much smaller trail leads off, deeper into the woods.
"Um, so Beren - what is this place and why are we here?"
"Um, so Beren - what is this place and why are we here?"
Beren looks over and addresses Rokko, “I have traveled far in search of an assassin. An orc assassin,” he emphasizes. “This orc killed my tutor at Fort Orcbone. I have tracked her here to Stormreach. Shortly before hell was unleashed on that cursed ship, I caught her stink,” he sniffs and twitches his nose in explanation. “I also learned that this place,” he nods at the establishment in front of him, “is a favored orc tavern. I am here to find the orc and kill her.”
He then turns away from the goblin. Looking back at the shack that may hold his quarry. ‘Can this be it? Have I found the wretched beast? Why did she do this? Why did she bring this upon herself?’ These questions rapidly go through his mind. They have been there for a long time but now they are almost tangible, as if he could reach out, hold them, and read the answers written on them. Then he shrugs it off. ‘It doesn’t matter. Only one thing matters.’ Slowly, his voice gets deeper, more feral. His face contorts, and his nose twitches. “Vengeance will be mine,” he growls setting his hands on the hilts of his blades.
He reaches down into his racial ancestry and lets the ancient blood flow through to the top layers of his soul. The visible hair on his arms bristle, his nostrils flare and his mouth accentuates his jaw line, and slight fangs punctuate his determination. His gait is emphasized by his bended knees and sloping back. With his heightened senses he pounces ahead, momentarily stops, sticks his nose skyward and inhales the fetid swamp-like air, his arms splayed out to his sides. He continues this motion around the perimeter of the tavern and into the trees that guide the small path.
As Beren shifts and starts sniffing around Ruuz quickly take account of all the scrolls in his coat and prepares himself. Looking up at the tavern he thinks 'Might as well blend in.'
His hair shortens and turns a dark brown, his white eyes change one to bloodshot yellow and the other to scared over white as a scar appears over that eye up over his forehead. His skin darkens to a gray green and one tooth thrusts it way out of his lower jaw. Looking down at a small puddle by the road he admires his new orc appearance. 'Thats better I might not get attacked just for walking through the door now.'
'Now lets see if the walk all the way here was worth it.'
Valessa has to admit that she finds Beren’s revenge driven mission somewhat distasteful, but she wants to stick by her friend. She doesn’t have much desire to kill unknown orcs, but intends to watch Beren’s back and do what she can to keep this thing between the shifter and his quarry.
She stays towards the back of the group, keeping an eye and ear out for any trouble.
She also does her best to remain out of sight, in the shadows.
|
|
((roll -14+9=23) + action point (roll - 6) Total = 29)
Fortitude Save:
But you do catch the scent of your prey, the same feminine stench of decay, she has been here, and recently.
Fortitude Save:
"Aaaccckkkkkkkk," Beren stumbles away from the path dryheaving and coughing. "Orc piss!" He shakes his head in an attempt to get the stench out of his nose. "Blaah." He shakes his head again. Through the haze of dryheave tears, while he has his hands on his knees and he is bent over, he views his companions and says, "She's been here."
'Might as well blend in.'Give me a disguise check, not forgetting your racial +10 obviously
Ruuz watches Beren dry heaving in the bushes and sniffs the air, 'I can even smell the urine so I can't imagine what it is like for him.'
"Beren what does she look like? I was thinking maybe Rokko and I could go inside and she if she is in there. We should blend in a little better then the rest of you."
“I’m not so sure about Rokko,” muses Valessa, looking at the goblin. “Historically, relations between orcs and goblinoids hasn’t been all that warm. And I know we’re not in Khorvaire anymore, but as I understand it, in the Shadow Marches at least, relations between humans and orcs are more cordial than with goblins and orcs. Quite cordial if the amount of half breeds are anything to go by,” she adds dryly.
“Oh, and you do speak Orcish?” she adds as an afterthought.
“I’m not so sure about Rokko,” muses Valessa, looking at the goblin. “Historically, relations between orcs and goblinoids hasn’t been all that warm. And I know we’re not in Khorvaire anymore, but as I understand it, in the Shadow Marches at least, relations between humans and orcs are more cordial than with goblins and orcs. Quite cordial if the amount of half breeds are anything to go by,” she adds dryly.
“Oh, and you do speak Orcish?” she adds as an afterthought.
"No, I don't - and I'd prefer it if you didn't refer to me in the third person, thank you." Arrogant human.
“Well actually, I wasn’t talking to you shorty,” Valessa replies nastily. “I was answering Mister Handsome over there,” referring to the orcish Ruuz. Uppity goblin.
"Unfortunately I don't speak orcish but I do have a scroll that will let me understand it so I might be able to get by with some orc sounding grunts and gestures. I can imagine they are all that articulate anyway."
“Well actually, I wasn’t talking to you shorty,” Valessa replies nastily. “I was answering Mister Handsome over there,” referring to the orcish Ruuz. Uppity goblin.
"Yeah - so the fact I'm standing next to you obviously means you can't talk to me directly, does it? You humans are all the same - some petty litle kingdom and you think you own the whole of Eberron. We goblins had a empire that lasted thousands of years and fought off the daelkyr. You can't even fight off your neighbours! Sheesh - I came to Xendrik thinking that maybe I'd get less of this "It's only a goblin" stuff - looks like I was wrong."
Rokko folds his arms and gazes angrily at the middle distance.
"Beren what does she look like? I was thinking maybe Rokko and I could go inside and she if she is in there. We should blend in a little better then the rest of you."
Beren eventually stands straight, his feral ancestry sinking back to the depths of his soul. He uses his forearm to wipe his mouth, then looks at Ruuz as his focus becomes less hazy. Instead of the changling, he sees an orc standing there and is ready to draw his blades. His momentary confusion passes when he realizes that the orc is Ruuz. Hacking up phlem one last time, he responds, "I do not know what she looks like. I only know her smell." Then looking back toward the woods, he growls, "And does she stink, BLEH!" Beren then starts searching for the direction of his quarry to see if he can find a trail or if she is possibly in the tavern.
Beren looks over the group. "I appreciate everyone coming with me. I am unaccustomed to having many friends. I am going to check out this tavern. You may join me, if you are comfortable. She may or may not be in there. If I do find her in there, I plan to come back out and set an ambush. This could get bloody, and I do not expect you to involve yourselves. This may even seem wrong to some of you,” he glances at Valessa, “but she spilt first blood. Now I will repay that. If I do not find her in there, I will try to find which way she went from here. Either way, I plan to kill her.”
After this statement, Beren turns and heads across the bridge and up to the door. He does a quick look back to see if any of his companions are following, then he opens the door and enters. He scans the room with his nose. Through the stale air, sour ale, and smell of bodies, he tries to pick up that one familiar wretched scent.
|
|
The interior is consistently dimly lit. Long strands of rope hang from a single tank of oil, burning lightly along the whole length. For a moment the twilight robs you of your ability to see, but then...
You have stepped into an abbatoir. There are nearly a hundred bodies here, at least that many that can be identified. Orcs, humans, and their half breeds in various states of disassembly from simply quartered to shredded like Talentan spice beef.
Drawing in the scent of the place is nearly enough to send you into another fit of heaves.
Then you catch the glint of fresh blood on the far wall, letters, they spell out "You'll never catch me, Beren"
Then, just as you finish scanning the room, you spot several of the more intact bodies rising up, uneartly purple light cascading from their eyes.
Valessa manages, barely, to hold back the tirade that has begun to form in her mind in response to Rokko – now is not the time.
As Beren makes his short speech and moves forward towards the door, she looks around at the rest of the group. “Well you know he’s just going to get himself killed –again,” she mumbles, and checking her weapons, starts after the shifter … until she hears Beren’s sharply in-drawn breath.
Ruuz takes at few steps back as the zombies rise from the floor. 'Damn I hate the undead, their harder then the Devourers teeth to kill.'
|
|
K:Religion 10
K:Religion 12
K:Religion 20
|
|
Round 1:
Initiative table:
Brick 23
Rokko 22
Critters 19
Ruuz 12
Valessa 9
Beren 5
Raustikin 5
---
No one is more than 20' from the door, so a single move action will at least get you inside. Vallessa and anyone else specifically following Beren rather than waiting outside, is only 10' away.
The bridge is 20' wide, and 15' long, with orc-waist high railings. The water beneath is murky and brackish, but the grass growing out of it indicates a depth of only a foot or two.
---
Brick-by-Proxy: "Interesting, I would like to see this place." He moves up behind Beren, "Why are so many of the patrons inside out?"
Beren continues to stand still at the doorway, seemingly in shock. "What is it?" Valessa whispers sharply to him, gripping her bow. "What do you see?"
Beren continues to stand still at the doorway, seemingly in shock. "What is it?" Valessa whispers sharply to him, gripping her bow. "What do you see?"
"Abominations. I don't know what they are. Who are we dealing with?" With his last statement he glances at the blood written words on the wall, before refocusing on the undead in front of him.
|
|
On 19: Each of the four creatures stoops down, pulling bones from the corpses around them, before hurling them at Beren. As they tumble through the air with distubring accuracy, they too burst into sickly balefire, the same colour as the creatures eyes.
Beren bats the first aside with the back of his hand, and another hits the door fram beside him, but the other two impact roughly into his chest.
5 damage, +2 from negative energy.
"Blimey - not seen that trick before!"
Ruuz steps through the door as flaming bones start flying through the air. As a bone smashes into the door frame next to his head Ruuz flinches down and yells toward the front of the group, "Hey Beren I vote we go outside lock the door and burn this place to the ground."
Ruuz reaches into is coat and grabs a scroll and quickly reads it pointing his hand at the closes zombie.
The creature explodes, creating a geyser of blood and gore that covers everything within 20' of it...
As the strange zombie creature explodes Ruuz's jaw drops open and looks down at his hand and the now blank scroll like he had never seen them before. "I wasn't expecting that to happen."