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When Binjion is served a hot plate of crow after adamantly refusing earlier, he shakes his head vigorously despite the rumblings in his gut. "I be telling you again, I'll not eat such a vile bird. Who can stomach to eat a creature that subsists on the eyes, lips, tongues, and organs? Nay lads, I'd rather go hungry and face the music on the morrow than eat a monstrosity like that. Perhaps we will have better luck finding a more suitable meal on the morrow."
When asked, Binjion gladly agrees to take second watch.
As the sun sinks low across the horizon, Binjion quietly slips away and finds a tranquil spot to pray within sight of the setting sun. Kneeling he removes the energy burst shaped holy symbol from under his scale shirt, kissing it. "All knowing lady of the grave, I give you thanks for thy aid this day. Your blessings were felt and appreciated this day. I humbly request upon your grace that you grant me your blessings for yet another day. In doing so, I shall be your humble servant, as I have every step of this life till the Boneyard take me and forever after."
At the completion of his prayers he feels much more at peace and the rumblings in his stomach have eased a bit. Perhaps a fast will do me some good, he thinks to himself.
Seeing Binjion clearly refuse the bird, Dorsera will also offer her share to anyone who wants it, then will settle down by the fire and eat a ration. Looking over to Deelin "I am hoping for a relatively uneventful night. I could use the rest."
The night passes without event. Early in the morning, as the last of the adventurers are still waking, Lacore makes an announcement. "I don't think I'm cut out for this, so I'm heading back to the logging camp. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." After making his farewells, the wizard leaves in the direction the group traveled from just yesterday.
The group starts northeast, circles around the lake, then heads northwest. Torillan, Dirk, and Deelin together, confident in their decisions today, have an easy time keeping track of the direction of their movement. After six hours total spent on foot, with an occasional break, and with no conflict to impede their progress, the party finds their next destination.
The dense trees and thick brush of the forest give way, parting seemingly in respect for the titanic darkwood tree that dominates this clearing. Several times taller than a temple minaret, in one direction the obviously ancient tree reaches into the sky with branches like a giant's arms, while in the other it plumbs the earth with roots thicker than a man's waist. Its limbs broad and strong, its bar thick and so richly colored as to almost be black, and its leaves the size of bucklers, the giant thing is less a tree and more a cathedral of boughs and branches.
As you approach the tree, a wyrm-like creature appears from one of the branches above, pouncing on Torillan. With the body of a large snake, the creature has the head of a dragon and two claws on legs sprouting from its upper body. A sickly green mist wafts from its open maw. Its descends on teh fighter, puncturing his flesh with its claws (5 dmg), while its large maw tries to chomp down on him, but misses.
While travelling through the day the party notices they have a new companion that keeps darting in and out of the underbrush to grab the bits of leftover crow Deelin keeps offering it. It is the Firefoot Fennec they rescued yesterday and it seems to have taken a shine to the Ranger.
With the occasional laugh from the fennecs antics the travel passes happily for Deelin and finds him musing on a name. A name, a name, I wonder what to call this little chap. Perhaps firey, or scamper, or I don't know, does anyone else have any ideas he says to the companions.
At the clearing with the huge old tree, Deelin is as startled as anyone and the sounds of a warning die on his lips.
Torillan is awed by the size of the tree in front of him, so much so that he fails to notice the creature as it attacks him. Catching the flash of its movement out of the corner of his eye, he instinctively ducks, too late to avoid its claws, but just in time as its jaws slam shut inches away from his head...
Dirk looks at the large tree, and puzzles how something this big could exist without elves living in it.
Suddenly, something green and scaly grabbed Torillan, Dirk struggles to pull his weapon out to ready himself.
Dorsera stands in awe at the beauty and size of the ancient tree. Just as she looks up the scaly creature pounces on Torillan, tearing his flesh with it's claws.
Initiative
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Binjion awakes, yawns, and gets up stiffly. Massaging the small of his back he wonders if he has made a mistake when choosing to follow such young company off on an adventure of all things. This feeling is intensified as he watches Lacore leave and he once again misses the comforts of his humble abode.
Silly old man, he mutters under his breath, "last chance ye'll have to see the lands of your forefathers. And would dying trying be such a horrible fate? Perhaps, not, he chuckles.
After setting back on the trail his mood heightens greatly and he begins to whistle an tune whose words have to do with sailors and lewd activities.
Approaching the great tree he is as equally astonished as he was seeing it 20 years hence past.
"The old legends say that this tree is the heart of the Darkwood Vale and that if it is ever cut down the darkwood that we depend so greatly upon would grow now more.." slackjawed the old man gapes as the dragon jumps upon his companion.
Daegan spent the better parts of the day in contemplation, clamouring about the infinite possibilities of detrimental health afflictions from the various types of mold, moss, and plantlife he could identify -- and speculated on those that he did not recognize.
He accepted a smaller portion of the cooked crow he helped slay in the evening, but settled on his own rations for breakfast the following morning.
Taking note of the fondness the fox had of Deelin, Daegan didn't take long to respond to the ranger's request at a name for his newfound friend.
"Omnivorous canis," he retorts with a flat, antisocially cold answer. "Or perhaps Skinny since he would have been sold for his pelt had we not interrupted the hobgoblin, whom, come to think of it, used him as bait for unsuspecting adventurers."
There was a short pause as Daegan came to yet another name for Deelin's fox.
"I... never really kept pets. I gave the vermin in my shop names before I snuffed them out of existence; I'm sure whatever you call it will be fine."
Initiative:
[**dice] 1d20 + (insert mod here) [**/dice]
Turn order:
Deelin, Torillan, Daegan
Monster
Dorsera, Dirk, Binjion
On Dorsera's Initiative:
Seeing the wyrm-like creature tear through Torillan's flesh, Dorsera recites a quick prayer to Milani then moves up to try and counter the wounds.
Deelin quickly moves within 30' of the beast while drawing his bow and releases an arrow into the foul lizard.
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After the surprise finishes draining away from Binjion's face, the aged cleric steadily walks forward while chanting a repeating mantra, "Lo do I not fear death's embrace for it is my lady's will. May the lady of prophecy's will, be what be.."
When he reaches the unknown scaly creature, he boldly thrusts his palm upon his assailant's scaly hide while shouting, "You will hold no secrets from my lady of the weave!"
Dropping his shield, Torillan tries to grab onto the writhing beast, risking its claws and bite.
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Round 1
Deelin's arrow misses. Torillan attempts to hold on to the snake-life creature, but it easily keeps it mobility. Daegan draws his rapier and gets into flanking position. The wyrm chomps down on Torillan's chest, biting off the flesh covering his ribcage, even breaking some of those ribs and rending the heart and lungs underneath (9 dmg), felling its first victim. Immediately, Torillan's massive wound closes up (heal 8 dmg) as Dorsera invokes the power of Milani to heal her companion.
Dirk goes berserk, pulling out his axe and confronting the monster. Letting out a primal roar, he swings and cuts open a wound (7 dmg) along its side.
Binjion avoids having his hand ripped off as he places it on the vicious creature.
Seeing that Torillan is ok for now, Dorsera draws her morningstar and attempts to bash the wyrm like creature.
Deelin moves around to a better position and sends another arrow at the creature. That's it, hold it ste....ady..., Now! he exclaims as the arrow seeks its target. Oh Damn, I nearly got him.
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"Though the mighty tatzylwyrm clutches brave Dirk within its claws, my Lady of Death shall protect his life. Though it's poison breath doth dance upon your face, dwarf, may your ancient blood ward it's ill effects," finishing his chant with his holy symbol held high, he touches dirk and an eerie blue light emanates from the cleric's palm and briefly washes over the grappled dwarf.
Dirk, angering by the second, grows a few inches, his body heating up, waves of heat rise from his body, making the air above him shimmer. Dirk screams a primal scream. His eys go blank, as if nothing in this world is more important than following his primal instincts, the istincts so many of us have forgotten.
Torillan cries out from the pain, and he drops to the ground, but it soon subsides as Dorsera's touch covers him in warmth. Regaining his senses, he rolls away from the beast as it turns to face Dirk.
Round 2
Deelin skirts around the wingless dragon, trying to hit it from another angle, but still misses. Torillan rolls away from snake's erect body. Daegan punctures its body from behind, doing deep with his rapier, just to the side of its spine, blood spewing out onto the apothecary.
Dirk gets his arm caught in the jaws of the wyrm, and it holds the barbarian in a restricted position. Dorsera glances a off its scaly flesh, bruising it heavily. With one free arm, Dirk brings his axe in between him and his foe, swinging and slicing open its chest, but the wyrm retains his hold. At that moment, a shimmering force coats Dirk's body as Binjion finishes his spell.
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The sheer power of the beast causes Binjion to look on with awe. As he prays that the protective ward placed upon Dirk holds, the Cleric removes the dagger from his belt sheath.
The old man attempts to stab the beast but his blow is clumsy, the dagger not even seated firmly in the Cleric's grip, it nearly flies from his grasp as he strikes.
Dorsera again rears back swinging the morningstar high above her head and
attempting to bring it crashing down on the beasts head.
Torillan rolls into a crouch, drawing his sword over his shoulder as he stands. He then hefts his shield, ready to strike.
Dirk, outwardly not caring for anything more than this creatures death, swings again, hoping to gut the creature, and use its scaly hide to make a new pair of boots.
Dirk issues another gutteral scream from his lungs as he swings his axe faster than he has ever swung it before, as if the weight of the axe has somehow gotten lighter.
Daegan, nauseated by the stench of the creatures blood upon his body from the gaping hole he punctured in the previous assault, attempts to locate another hole on the beast. Lung, heart, spine... anything to get the beast to break its hold of his companion.
His attack seems to focus on the wurm, pressing his mind away from the sight of blood.
Attack =
[Roll does not include positiional bonuses for Flanking or Flat Footed for grappling/grabbing Torillan or Dirk]
- if the attack hits
-- Damage = ;
-- if Sneak Attack applies,
--- SA Damage =
The rapier punctures the wyrm a second time. This time, the wyrm falls, slowly slipping off the skewer as its jaws loosen on Dirk's shoulder. It bleeds out on the ground.
Daegan holds his breath, his teeth clenched as he fights the rumbling in his stomach. He flinches at a death-invoked spasm, leaping into the creature's chest. He plants his knee on the sternum and drives his rapier hilt-deep up and through the soft tissues nestled between the lower jaw bones - ensuring death by any passerby.
A sigh of relief breaks from the half-elf as he retreats to a position to aide anyone on the ground to their feet. He extends his left hand, the blood still dripping from the rapier in his right, which has been downturned to his side.
"I'm starting to get the feeling our journey together is not going to be at all boring," he says with obvious sarcasm.
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"Indeed, a tatzylwurm is far from boring in any sense of the definition," intones the cleric gravely, "I'd say we were exceedingly lucky. If it were not that Dosera was able to react faster than I, good Torillian would be bound for the Boneyard by now. Lucky, indeed."
He stops for a moment as if lost in thought and then comes to again, "Now wasn't there supposed to be an important patch of moss about the clearing?"
Retrieving his arrows, Deelin inspects the beasts carcass. A fearsome creature indeed, I have never seen it's like before. Father Binjion, you seem knowledgeable about them. Have you come accross one before?
Deelin then starts to look about the place for the moss described as he converses with the party. After a while he calls out Is this the moss we're looking for? As he's pointing to a patch near the base of the tree.
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Retrieving his arrows, Deelin inspects the beasts carcass. A fearsome creature indeed, I have never seen it's like before. Father Binjion, you seem knowledgeable about them. Have you come accross one before?
"Nay, friend Deelin, until today I did not know such a fearsome thing existed, but my Pale Lady knows a great deal about a great many things. She whispers this wisdom to her followers who must only train themselves to listen, as I have. With a single touch, my goddess grants a boon and imparts knowledge beyond my wisdom. Sadly, her knowledge only extends to living beings and the abominations some call undead, for those things are within her realm of influence. But alas, I fear I digress. Let me assist with more important matters."
"I am happy that beast is finally dead. Let me help search for the moss."
"Now, that was a fight!" Dirk wipes the sweat from his brow. "A shame I dinnae get any scars, though, good fer nothin' lizard!"
Dirk straps his axe to his back again and starts to open the enemy's mouth. A loud wet snap sound issues from whatever Dirk does with the now dead enemy.
Dirk, a triumphant smile on his face, pulls a bloody hand from the creatures mouth, his hand holdign a grizzly trophy of a few teeth.
"This will make a fine necklace fer me, proof of me fers' proper battle!"
Dirk then looks around and sees the rest of his companions scouring the floorbed of the forest, as if lookign for worms for fishing.
"Oh, that's right, we're s'posed teh look fer some kind of green stuff, right?"
Dirk then looks with the rest of the party, looking for the moss.
A small patch of thick moss is found on the trunk of the tree.
After cleaning and stowing his rapier, Daegan reaches for his leather satchel. He unfastens the buckles expertly and procures a vessel to store the moss in -- a glass beaker with a cork stopper in the top.
"Here," he says stoicly, a loud [POP!] erupting as he unstopped the container. "We can store the moss in here."
"Now's a fine enough time ter set up camp, and ter heal up, methinks. I may have not been hurt, but other people have got some mighty nasty cuts and bruises."
As Deelin carefully gathers the Elderwood moss he has found and puts it into the container proferred by Daegan he says, I'm happy to continue on unless we really need to stop as there is still some daylight left and the town needs this remedy.
"I agree with Deelin. The town cannot wait very long. People are perishing as we rest. I say we move on." Dorsera adds to Deelin's comment with a look of sadness growing on her face.
"Let's get this to the townsfolk. We can rest later", says Torillan. He gathers his things, ready to travel.
After leaving the clearing of the Elderwood, the party trudges on a little while longer to the west. Eventually, it's time to make camp. The adventurers set up for rest and rotate a watch through the night, and they go undisturbed until it's time to travel again in the morning.
Deelin helps cook the meal and entertains his friends with the antics of his new pet, the firefoot fennec he's been training off and on all day. Scamper, I've decided to call him Scamper, seems apropriate. The little creature balances on his hind legs to receive morsels of food and scampers about the place over and under all sorts of things.
The next morning after a short breakfast Deelin tries to help the canny Dwarf with directions but seems to get himself a bit mixed up. Ohh, if only Aulistriana were here, she'd be able to help us sort out the right way, he says to no one in particular.
Dirk amazes himself at how much he is picking up on this adventure, all the amazing sights and things he is seeing and encountering.
Travelling and sleeping in the wilds, Dirk only regrets, quite loudly, that he didn't bring any ale to drink, other than that, Drik is quite obviously having the time of his life.
--use "Bluff" to "Feint", Hey look! Its Santa! [run!]
--use "Diplomacy" to talk your way out; Why not discuss dinner with someone who knows more about it?
--use "Intimidate" to make them back down; Now that we're done eatting, you got 5 minutes to clear a path to the toilet... or ELSE!
Best wishes and Happy Holidays to everyone on the board.