Fudrick watches in horror as his fellow Gnome goes down.
Time seems to have stopped. Jets of blood seem to have paused in mid air from the Gnome.
"It is all happening again. Just like on the ship. I couldn't do anything to save Mom or Dad then, but I can help this man out. I can feel her power coursing through me. I ... feel ... so ... alive."
There is a sound of a thunderclap. Time starts moving again. The jets of blood complete their arc.
Fudrick raises his arms into the air and screams, "FOR HETTAMA! BRING YOUR LIGHT AND SALVATION INTO ME." His hands start to glow with a soft white light. Swirling golden motes float through the light intensifying the glow. He points his arms at the fallen Gnome. The golden motes float into his body, swirling around swiftly, stopping the blood loss and closing the gash. His body starts to glow and shudders a few times before going still again.
"I pray it is not to late."
Yrar gives another raging yell of disbelief, “Die already, smelly pig, die,” and raises his gore covered maul. Bits of blood, skin, bone, and hair spray the air, evicted from the hammer’s head. The Half-Orc’s muscled arms slams the weapon down once again.
As soon as Yrar strikes the fatal blow Fudrick bends down to inspect the other Gnome. "I think he will make it. That blow took alot of of him. Is anyone else hurt bad? Yrar can you carry him for now?"
Yrar watches the boar's head explode into cracked bone and slimy gore. "Finally listened pig," he states to the dead animal as he spats on the corpse. The Half-Orc lowers his weapon, his heaving chest starts to slow as he sucks in deeper breaths. His shoulders slump, and he lowers his head, seeming haggard. Yrar turns to his companions, "We should get moving." The Half-Orc's damaged legs move lethargically, his stride is staggered, and his breathing labored. Stopping for a moment, he shifts his head back to the dead boar, "In the jungle, we usually eat what we kill. We have somewhere to be though. Another creature will enjoy an easy meal." He looks up at the carrion birds maneuvering through the jungle canopy looking forward to the free meal.
"I think he will make it. That blow took alot of of him. Is anyone else hurt bad? Yrar can you carry him for now?"
Yrar looks down at the unconscious Gnome, "How's he doing? If you think he will survive, I will carry him. If I do this though, my ability to check the trail for more disasters will be hampered, and if we are attacked, I will be delayed. Is there any more healing you could offer to get the silent one on his feet?" Yrar then looks at his own wounds, "Do not worry about me. Your healing has helped. Thank you. The rest will mend on its own."
The Half elfs looks at everyone before using his stick to lever the boar corpse into the pit , where hopefully it lands with a meaty thud breaking and dispersing some of the spiked impliments at the bottom.
Looking at the unconcious gnome he says " Either you can carry him and I will take point or I can carry him, I'm not sure if you know the way any better than me, Althought it shouldn't be hard to make a stretcher in any case, if its far."
Mr. Wolf:
Wands can be recharged correct? If so what is required to recharge my Wand of Cure Minor Wounds?
"Yes Yrar I think he will live. He is hurt very badly though and needs a place to rest for the night. Wait a minute. When I was on the ship I was given a wand by the priest. It has been tucked away in my sack for awhile as I had no use for it then. Let me see ..." Searches through his bag, "yes, here it is."
Fudrick stands above the Gnomes body. As he looks down he can see how pale he is. Sweat has broken out on his head and his eyes are darting back and forth under his eyelids. He closes his eyes and says a quite prayer to Hettama for his companion. As he opens his eyes he speaks the activation word for the wand while slowly waving it over the body. The tip of the wand glows very softly with the same golden motes floating through the light. As the glow disappears the body of the Gnome twitches slightly. Some of the color has come back to his skin and he appears to be more at ease. "He must have been pretty bad off. Let me do it a couple more times so he can at least walk. Twice more Fudrick lets the gently flow of magic enter the Gnomes body. After the final spell is cast he checks the body. "Look, I think he is coming around." Smilling he says, "Maybe now you can tell us your name." He gently helps him off the ground.
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"Yarrggh!" screams the revitalised gnome and he grips his wounded leg tightly. "Many thanks from my family's little boy. Call me Shulim."
"Where's the boar?"
Fudrick spoiler
Yrar watches Roman lever the boar into the pit trap, “Good idea. That could save somebody in the future.”
Yrar then watches Fudrick heal the injured Gnome, “Good job my friend,” he says to his companion. Then he turns to Shulim and smiles seeming to get some of his energy and personality back, “He lives! And, he speaks! Welcome back from the dead. You can thank my friend Fudrick here for a second chance. Don’t you know you should look for meals that are smaller than you?” Yrar says this last part with a grin. “So are you up to traveling, or do you need a ride?” Yrar asks while motioning to his back during the last part.
"This might not be the best of ideas. Hmm I remember my Dad telling me that people who said that usually ended up in a bad way. Anyway. Shulim is in no shape to get into the pit. Roman is to big to easily lower down. So Yrar tie the rope to me and lower me in."
Fudrick takes a look into the pit, turns back to the path, and takes his weapons and armor off.
“Heeh,” Yrar gives a grunting laugh, “Never went fishin’ using a Gnome before,” while a smile from ear to ear reaches out through his mangled beard.
The Half-Orc‘s smile disappears and his tone turns serious, “My friend, maybe it would be better if I just tied the rope to a tree and climbed down. I could use that filthy leg-stickin’ pig as a step stool when I reach the bottom. Best put your armor back on and keep your weapons ready just in case there is a family of the beasts.”
Yrar retrieves his rope and looks for a sturdy tree. He takes his time and ties the rope securely. Looking to his companions, Yrar says, “While I’m down there, anybody hungry for some fruit.” Then looking at Shulim, “I hope you know how to use that blade, if I’m doin’ this for ya.” He starts to cautiously lower himself into the pit and attempts to use the boar as a foot stool before reaching down and retrieving the rapier. Then he climbs back out.
“Many thanks is right,” Yrar forces a smile as he uses some leaves to clean the boar gore from his boots.
“Well, we havn’t heard any jungle screaming in awhile. Easy to get lost in the jungle if ya don’t know where ya goin’. So I say we keep movin’. Only so much daylight left. Not that it matters to me.” Yrar looks at the spiked pit, “Huh, I wonder. Someone must not want visitors up this way to dig this trap. I guess they could have been trying to trap the boar but digging in the middle of the path makes me question that. Especially with the cloth as a lure.” Yrar looks down at Shulim once again, “Can ya walk on your own? If so, we should go. Let‘s be careful, though. My guess is someone doesn‘t want us here. Fudrick, you know where your cousin is to be found, right?”
The Half Elf looks at bemusement as the Orc goes after the gnomes blade thinking, to himself, I'll be damned if I'm risking my health of body over a bottle opener. Following the others as they head towards the village , roman pipes up
"But what about those screams we've heard just before fighting the boar, if people were in trouble...."
before letting his sentence, unfinished hang in the air.
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As the group continues on the trail, discussing the gnome sorcerer Zartari , they reach civilisation. The trail winds uphill surrounded by jungle, until the woods thin and a large clearing appears over a rise.
Right in front is a large pile of rubble with a heavy pick resting against it. Beyond is a bunch of crates. One or two have wisps of straw trailing from their partly closed lids, the rest have been nailed down.
To the left of the crates is a pair of canvas shelters which use the edge of the jungle for their back-posts. Empty bedrolls and a jumble of gear lie around these tents. An empty curved scabbard lies on one bedroll, its red gem-encrusted surface glitters in the afternoon light.
To the right is a sheet covering a box of some kind. The sheet has been pinned to the ground and is brightly coloured blue with a gold and vermilion edge.
Right in the middle is a large pit, 5 foot square, which is filled with grey and black sticks of burnt wood. A metal spit and cooking pot hangs over the fire pit, from a”H” shaped iron.
At the rear of the area is another set of two shelters which stand either side of a small, ramshackle wooden hut. The hut door is closed. Again the shelters have similar arrangements of clothes and bedrolls and a visible small wooden chest for a pillow.
The view of the volcano is much closer now, only several hundred feet in height, there are a couple of trails running up and around its sides, towards the summit. But the sides are covered in lush vegetation, making it impossible to tell what happens to the trails.
The clearing is surrounded by fairly dense jungle except to the north (or centre of the island) where a trail leads away through thick seven foot tall grass. The trail is very narrow.
There is only one thing missing and that is noise. Not bird noise there is plenty of that around, but the sound of people. The place is empty.
"But what about those screams we've heard just before fighting the boar, if people were in trouble...."
before letting his sentence, unfinished hang in the air.
Yrar turns to the Elf as they travel upwards towards their intended destination, “I would like to help, I would, but the screaming has stopped, meaning the pain has stopped, meaning probably the life as well. Unfortunate yes, but to wonder an unfamiliar jungle … not a good thing. We could probably go back and follow the boar’s uprooted trail, but to what end. Without more screaming, we could easily get turned around and never find this trail again. If you want though, we can go back.”
Reaching the clearing, Yrar looks around at the emptiness of the place, “Fudrick, what is your cousin doing here again? Does it make sense for the camp to be completely abandoned while their work gets done?”
Sucking in a deep breath, Yrar booms, “Ho there, anybody here?” Yrar then turns himself around and checks the trees. He also listens to the breeze and checks the ground for any footprints to tell him a story as he makes his way to the edge of the trails and eventually the hut. As he begins, the Half-Orc turns to Roman, “I have been watching you. You seem to know your way around quite well. Let’s us find some answers to piece together what is happening here. What do you say? And Fudrick, you know your cousin best. Help us get to the bottom of this.”
"Yes we should help out whoever is hurt. Without a visible trail or noises to follow we would be at a disadvantage though. Let's make haste to the camp and see what my cousin has to say. I am sure they have heard the noise or it may be they are the ones in need." Just as Fudrick is about to set off down the trail he stops. "Um, guys wait a second. With all this excitement we didn't grab the supplies."
"The camp should be on the other side of this rise." As the companions come into the camp Fudrick notes the quiteness. He looks around in a circle not sure of what is going on. "Well now this is strange. Even with the work going on someone should be in camp tending to chores." As he completes his circle he spots the scabbard in the bedroll and the cover on the ground. "That is to nice of a scabbard to just leave out no matter who you are working with. The blade is missing to. Other than that it doesn't look like anything bad has happened. Maybe everyone ran into the jungle trying to help out whoever screamed. Let's get these supplies over by the tents and have a look around. What do you three make of this? Do you think the body we found at the beach is the owner of that scabbard?"
The Half Elf, dismisses the notion of the scream and turns to the task at hand, the camp and abondonment.
Nodding to the half orc, he joins him in the woods scouting searching and willing his way to the heart of the matter
for Dm
Survival 29, Spot 14, Listen 12,
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Fudrick Spoiler
[spoiler]Zartari was involved in important Badasah work here and the details he could not reveal, even to you. That in itself is unusual.[/ooc]
Shulim collapses on a bedroll next to the scabbard. He gives it a once over and agrees that it is valuable and probably would fit the black blooded blade on the beach.
Roman takes a good look around the campsite. It is a month's old campsite. The shelter next to Shulim seems to be badly damaged and there is a small cut in one wooden post.
Yrar spots that there are several drops of black blood around the same shelter. Shulim closes his eyes to rest.
So far no one has entered the hut. Its wooden walls are not well made, so that from outside people can see that there is furniture inside but no obvious movement.
The
“Not good. Not good at all,” Yrar says as he turns to face Fudrick. “More black blood. I think we may have to find out where those screams are coming from after all, and fast. I’m gonna try to follow this blood, then I’m gonna check out the hut.” Yrar spends a good deal of time checking the ground for a possible trail of blood then he walks over and extends his maul in an attempt to nudge the door to the hut open.
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Yrar can see the black blood splashes across the bedding and around, but where they lead to is a mystery.
The hut door slowly opens. Inside the room is dominated by a 2ft high wooden table covered in papers and strange bricks. Against one wall is a bed with a body in it. The body of a man, pale and still, lies under a golden coverlet, with his legs hanging over the end to the floor.
A large one foot high wooden chest sits against the far wall, positioned to double as a small chair under the low table.
The Half-Orc, having no luck with finding a blood trail, moves over to the hut. After pushing the door open, Yrar enters and swivels his head in a half circle, scoping the room top to bottom and side to side. The Half-Orc gives a yell behind him, “Hey, Fudrick, there are some papers in here. Do you know what they mean?” The Half-Orc then walks in further and uses his outstretched maul to pull the cover off of the corpse. “Fudrick, do you know this man?” Yrar then looks to see if he can tell what happened to him.
Mr. French:
Ok, just so I am on the right track. Did we get the supplies before heading into camp? If not, did all of us leave the camp and head back to shore to get them?
Yrar turns to his companions, “I don’t like this. That body on the beach went missing. Now a deserted camp. And this, another dead guy. If he starts walking away, I’m smashin’ him.”
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Suddenly there is the sound of running footsteps coming crashing through the tall grass.
The grass splays out in all directions as an elf breaks into the camp near the hut. He stumbles in with one hand clutching a small black and white monkey on his shoulder, paying almost as much attention to the grass behind him as to the camp. Sweat is pouring off his brow and his cheeks are flushed.
Yrar Spoiler
Fazaam Spoiler
While examining the body, Yrar twitches his ears as he feels the ground below him tremble softly, as if something is approaching at a run. Moments later, he picks up the sound of footsteps. “Now what, not another boar, I hope. If it is, I’m eatin’ it.” Yrar pulls his maul toward him and leaves the hut to see what the disturbance is. Seeing the tall grasses writhe about, Yrar forms a defensive position.
An Elf pierces into the camp, running and seeming disturbed, “No boar,” Yrar mumbles under his breath before speaking up, “Holt, who are you? What is wrong?”
Approaching the running elf, Roman gets in close with his staff and inspects the new comer.
The tall elf burst from the cover of the forest into the clearing of the camp. He skids to a halt, panting hard, upon seeing the group that is apparently waiting for him to emerge. The small black and white monkey peers, wide-eyed, over his shoulder as he gulps air. "Garyn?" He pants, barely audible, blinking sweat from his eyes, when he spots the sea elf approaching.
“No boar,” Yrar mumbles under his breath before speaking up, “Holt, who are you? What is wrong?”
The elf looks from person to person, the hope in his eyes fading when he realizes that the sea elf isn't who he thought it was.
"Run." The elf whispers between ragged breaths. "RUN!" He tries to act on his own suggestion, but stumbles to one knee, clearly unable to continue running just now. He quickly regains his feet, his rapier clearing the scabbard tucked into his sash in one fluid motion. He warily eyes the group as his blade tip flicks between them.
A chattering from the monkey perched on his backpack snaps his head back around to the forest. He sets his jaw, having appeared to reach a decision. With a graceful turn, he rotates to face the forest, and slowly backs away from it, towards the group. He glances nervously over his shoulder as he gets closer to Roman and Yrar, but obviously wants to put distance between himself and the forest wall.
"Creature in the forest,..." He pants, his breathing coming slower but still ragged. "Pretty sure,... it killed Yorall. Garyn and I ran,... we got separated." He manages to explain. His face grim as he watches the forest intensely.
It would seem that whatever is out there, he is more scared of it than four armed humanoids.
Yrar moves forward and to the side of the newcomer, searching the jungle but also wary of the Elf’s rapier. “What type of beast was it? How long have you been running? Is this your camp? Are you part of Zatari’s team? Who are these others you speak of?” Holding his maul in a defensive stance he waits and listens.
Yrar moves forward and to the side of the newcomer, searching the jungle but also wary of the Elf’s rapier. “What type of beast was it? How long have you been running?
"I have no idea." The elf responds much more calmly. His wits apparently returning faster than his breath. He turns to get a better look at Yrar, and you realize that he is unusually tall, for an elf. But at 5'4" he still doesn't clear Yrar's pectorals. "We never got a look at it. We were maybe halfway back to the beach when that fool Yorall stepped off the path to relieve himself. 'IT' attacked, with the most deity-awful scream you never heard. Even though we weren't even 5' apart, the jungle was so thick you couldn't see a thing. Garyn and I chose the better part of valor, and ran. But Garyn is better in the jungle than I am, he probably took a shortcut that I missed, and we got separated." He spins back toward the jungle, rapier raised defensively, as he responds to something that he thinks he heard. The monkey peeking over the top of his head as it holds onto the elf's golden ponytail.
Is this your camp? Are you part of Zatari’s team? Who are these others you speak of?” Holding his maul in a defensive stance he waits and listens.
The elf shakes his head once more, eliciting a squeal of protest from the monkey.
"No. This is not my camp. The others? Well, Garyn is a friend, a sea-elf, like your friend here, and Yorall," He spits the name, "Is, or at least WAS, an 'unwelcome acquaintance' let's say. And leave it at that."He glances at Yrar again, his amber eyes narrowed as he grins slyly. "And who might YOU be my large green friend? While I am grateful to find a living person here, I don't remember seeing you at the camp earlier, and I confess that my first panicked thought was that perhaps you were behind whatever attacked the camp earlier."
While retrieving the supplies from the boat, there seems to be something strange about the beach, the canoe and bloody dagger are the only things on it.
"Guys, something is definitely wrong here. What happened to the body?" Fudrick scans the beach up and down trying to see if he can spot anything like drag marks.
He looks down at the spot the body was at and notices the dagger half buried in the sand. "It seems whatever happened to the corpses did not affect the dagger or the canoe." Fudrick bends down grabbing the dagger by its hilt he sticks it blade down into the sand a few times to clean it off. "Either of you good with a dagger? It seems to be pretty well made." He offers the dagger to either one if they want. If not he puts it securely in his sash. "lets get these supplies back to the camp. We still do not know what is going on, but we can't leave these here."
As soon as the group enters the camp and sets the supplies down Fudrick checks the scabbard to see if the dagger fits.
The Half-Orc gives a yell behind him, “Hey, Fudrick, there are some papers in here. Do you know what they mean?” The Half-Orc then walks in further and uses his outstretched maul to pull the cover off of the corpse. “Fudrick, do you know this man?” Yrar then looks to see if he can tell what happened to him.
Fudrick enters the hut looking around quickly. He sees the body and does a quick check to see if he can be helped in anyway.
"This man is not my cousin." He looks at Yrar seriously, "Whatever happened here is very troublesome indeed. The body on the beach is gone, the camp is deserted with signs of trouble, the body on the table." Yrar quickly says, "If he starts walking away, I’m smashin' him." Fudrick nods and continues, "I don't know how long it would take to get up the trails, but we need to head up that way. If the two bodies we have seen were working the camp while everyone else was up the volcano. Then they may be unaware of what happened here and could be in danger. You are more familiar with the jungle. How long do you think it would take to get up that far? I am going to get some supplies ready for us to take. I did not pack for a trek up a volcano." Fudrick steps outside and starts to speak to Roman about the plans when ...
Suddenly there is the sound of running footsteps coming crashing through the tall grass.
The grass splays out in all directions as an elf breaks into the camp near the hut. He stumbles in with one hand clutching a small black and white monkey on his shoulder, paying almost as much attention to the grass behind him as to the camp. Sweat is pouring off his brow and his cheeks are flushed.
Fudrick grabs his weapons and draws it before he knows it. He moves into a defensive stance waiting for his opponent to move. Yrar comes out of the building with his huge weapon ready to smash down whatever ran into the camp. He stops and says, "Holt, who are you? What is wrong?" Fudrick realizes then the man was not running to attack but to get away from something. Yrar questions him on what is chasing him down. As the Elf explains what has happened Fudrick scans the jungle. "Quickly into the camp then. Yrar, Roman see what you can do about defenses. Let Shulim rest for as long as he can." Looking back at the newcomer he says, "Come over here and let me examine you." He checks him for any serious wounds finding none he says, "Lets see what we can do to help."
The elf gives a quizzical look as Fudrick begins giving instructions. He glances between the two, down at the Gnome, up at the Half-orc, with a calculating gaze. Finally he smiles, and, with a final glance at the jungle to ensure he isn't about to become monster-chow, sheathes his rapier with a flourish.
"Well then," He addresses the two talkative ones. "If we are to cooperate against fell beastie, Perhaps introductions are in order?"
He performs an elegant mockery of a formal bow, one ankle behind the other, straight legged, bowing stiffly at the waist with his arms outspread.
"I am, Fazaam." Spreading his hands wide as he introduces himself. "Gentleman of fortune. And this," He reaches out and quickly snags his monkey, who was busy trying to stick his head into Shulim's backpack. He gives the monkey a swift, dirty look as he returns it to his shoulder. "Is Hasan, currently my best friend. At least until I re-locate Garyn." Hasan chatters angrily at this as he returns to his perch on Fazaam's backpack. He holds onto the ponytail and looks over the top of Fazaam's head, giving their new acquaintances clearly dubious looks.
Fazaam looks at the others expectantly with an arched eyebrow. He has struck what is clearly a well-practiced pose. His left hand rests lightly on the hilt of his rapier, his right on his hip, head held high. He is the cutting image of a dashing Corsair or roguish nae'r do well. Which would be much more impressive if he were actually standing on a ship, or trying to impress women in a pub.
Roman begins searching about the camp for useful items in defence. Using the new dagger or borrowing blades from Yrak {and help from Yrak} as appropiate. Roman asks for any rope stores to be brought forward as appropiate.
For the old Wolf
Searching the Camp total9 (I would like to find more rope or twine, deadfall trees {large dead junks of tree that either are precariously placed in the foilage or that have already fallen down}, and torches if possible)
Survival Check for defencive Possibilities 15
Survival Check to set snares, Spike the ground on all sides, create dragons teeth {Logs with jabby pits that would be low to ground}, {This all depends on either rope or blades or pointy sticks or often all of them Total 25